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thatsgay-writes · 3 years

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Catra x twin!sister reader where reader travels in alot of planets to find her sister and when she landed on etheria she explored the whispering woods and found melog, with their help she found glimmer and she led her to her castle and she finally met her sister. Catra wasn't pleased about it thinking that her family abounded her she just pushes reader away and goes to her room. Reader stays and went to deal with catra. They talked (mostly arguing) and in the end catra and reader hugs and they became very dear friends.

(I'm basically making you a nicer version of Catra with super girl powers (which you don't use in the story) and Lena Luthor as your wife because why not. I am also putting everyone in their early to late 20s... I also forgot to add Melog :( sorry.)

"Space log, day... 2000?" You mumble as you speak into the recorder on your ship. "It's been... 4 years since my son was born. 8 years since my people finally fully integrated with the civilization of our sister planet. 10 years since I renounced my royal title. 12 years since I met the love of my life. 16 years since my home world was destroyed by the Horde and my parents were killed. And... 24 years since I have last seen my baby sister." You breath out, having lost hope after so many years of things going wrong. "Lena and Madden have stayed on the planet Oa while I explore this last planet. It appeared almost 2 years ago and was the last place the Horde had ever been. Who or whatever is on the planet must be powerful." "This... This will be the final planet I explore. I have no hope of seeing my sister again." God you were so tired of the disappointment you felt every time you couldn't find your sister. "Happy 26th birthday." You mumble out as you get closer to the new planet. "End log."

---

"This is spaceship Kr 97. Requesting permission to land. I repeat requesting permission to land." You spoke into your radio, hoping to hear anything back. Maybe this planet didn't have the technology yet for radios? "If anyone can hear me. My name is Y/n and I come in peace. I will be landing my ship on your planet and will wait 2 days before exploring on my own." You say into your radio before putting it back where it had been hanging and controlling your ship into the planets atmosphere. It was a little bit of a bumpy landing but you landed your ship just fine on the outskirts of what seemed to be a forest. You set a 48 hour alarm on your phone. You weren't sure how the people or creatures of the planet told time, so you just stuck with what you knew. It had kept you alive so far anyways.

"Alrighty." You say to yourself as you step off of your ship. You take a deep breath as you feel the yellow sun power you up. "48 hours, let's get to work."

---

You spent the next two days cleaning up in and around your spaceship, setting up a camp, and watching how the forest worked so you knew what you could eat and what you couldn't. You had been sitting on the ground relaxing when you hear your timer go off. You click the loud noise off and stand up, grabbing the bag you had prepared. While learning the forest, you had seen some villages that seemingly lead towards somewhere and you had decided that the best course of action was to hop from village to village to see if their was a kingdom or something of that nature that you could get into contact with. You just hoped everyone was nice and that this wouldn't be a hard planet to navigate.

---

The first town you enter seems to be a farming village. You can tell because you had to walk through fields and saw, what you assume, were the livestock on the planet. You stood behind some trees for a while as you assessed how the villagers acted. You watched as kids ran around playing with their friends, shopkeepers and homeowners leaving their windows open in the nice weather, clearly not scared of being robbed. You decide that it's safe enough to enter and you have your powers to back you up incase things go wrong. It was weird because the planet had 3 moons and only 1 sun, usually planets had the suns out number moons but it was enough. You fix your cloak over your ears and tuck them back so they wouldn't be noticeable or a defining characteristic if things went sideways.

You walk slowly through the village, having expected to get some attention from your large black robe. And you do get some curious looks but it's mainly all friendly smiles. You are almost halfway through the village, aiming to enter one of the shops and ask around, when a something hits your leg. You look down and see a ball a few inches in front of your foot. You pick it up, making sure to retract your claws, and hold it out to the toddler who was staring at you and his ball. "Here you go." You say to him as you hold the ball out and shake it a little so his attention goes to it. He waddles up to you and takes the ball from you. He stares at it for a few seconds before making motions with his hands, wanting you to hold him.

Without hesitating, you pick him up and hold him close to your chest. "Where is your mother, kitten?" You ask him as he reaches up to play with your ear that were still under your hood. "Kitty!" He squeals as he knocks the hood off your head and you hear an audible gasp from behind you. "Oh my gosh, Catra I am so sorry! We didn't think you were visiting till next week. We would have prepared a feast for you and the rest of the princesses." You turn around and see an elderly looking man, who's eyes widen at the sight of you. "Have you gotten taller and cut your hair again?" He asks confused. You give him a small smile, "I'm sorry but I'm not this Catra you speak of. Are you saying there is someone similar looking to me on your planet?" You ask and the man gives you a weird look when you call it his planet but slowly nods his head. You feel hope for the first time in years and eagerly ask the man if you could stay near the town till she came next week. He gave you a bit of a weird look, not sure who you were now and unsure of your intentions, even though your reaction was positive. "Sure."

---

After returning the toddler to his mother, you basically sprinted back to your ship in excitement. "Lena! Lena!" You shout happily into the radio on your ship. Time is a little different on the planet as the sun was just starting to set but it would already be completely dark on Oa. But by your clock it was only 9, so Lena and Madden should still be awake. "Y/n?" You hear your name crackle through the radio and a smile appears on your face. "Lena you'll never believe it! There is someone on this planet that supposedly looks just like me and vice versa!" You say into the radio, feeling like a kid on Nova day. "I think it's her... I hope its her." You say as you image seeing your sister again for the first time in 24 years. "I'm so happy for you y/n! We will start making preparations to join you soon." You bite your lip in thought. "Maybe you should wait... I just wouldn't want to overwhelm her, you know?" You can almost hear Lena nodding on the other end of the phone. "That makes sense, we'll plan to leave by the end of the week if everything goes well."

"Geez I love you so much." You mumble with a wide grin. "And Madden too. Is he still up?" "No he fell asleep a few minutes before you radioed, he spent all day playing." "Oh well, tell him I love him and I'll radio back in the morning." "Okay, bye." "Bye."

---

"We need to be very careful about this." Glimmer says as she and the best friend squad enter the village who sent a letter the day before about someone who looked like Catra in their village. "We already knew that there were other people out there but as we already know not all of them are friendly." Catra walks next to Adora, numbly nodding along. Could this be it? Could she finally learn where she came from? Everyone else in the Horde had been born into it and Adora had come through a portal but no one really knew where Catra was from. "Are you okay?" Adora asked as she squeezed Catra's hand, nervous at how silent her girlfriend was. Catra just mutely nods back.

---

"This planet is simply marvelous!" The group hears you laugh out after being greeted by the village leader. "They look almost just like you Catra." Bow comments as they watch your tall figure move around as you play with the kids of the village and let them climb all over you. "Y/n!" You hear someone call your name and turn to see the village leader standing with a group of people and... Catra. They watch as you freeze and let your mouth fall open in shock. You set the kids down and encourage them to go play together. You walk towards the group with a smile. You go down the line of friends shaking their hands and introducing yourself, ignoring their looks of surprise, before finally reaching Catra. "Wow..." You breathe out in absolute awe. You can feel your eyes get misty the longer you stare at her. "You look so much like mom." You say with a watery laugh that completely sets Catra off.

"Who are you?" She asks as she pushes her finger into your chest making you take a step back. "What? Catra, I'm your sibling. I thought the similarities would make that clear." She glares at you and you can feel the whole village watching the interaction. "Just because we look similar doesn't mean anything." You move quickly and grab her right hand and hold it up next to your left one, both birthmarks showing.

You watch as Catra freezes. Her face and body come to a complete stop as her eyes flicker between the identical birthmarks and your face. "I know you must have questions and I do too. But I have spent the last 8 years going all across the galaxy looking for you and right now all I want is a hug... Please?" You get out as you let go of Catra's hand only for her to push you away one last time and storm into a temporary tent that had been set up for the best friend squad.

You take a second to take a breath before following after her. "I wouldn't follow after her, she needs time to cool down." A blonde, Adora, said to you as she placed a hand on your should to stop you. "I've dealt with people with anger issues before." You say as you brush her hand off. "I know how to handle this." You say and walk towards the tent again, not giving anyone a chance to stop you.

---

"You can't hide away in here sister." You say as you enter the tent, dodging a pillow that was thrown at your head. "Don't call me that." She mumbled angrily. "And why not, you are my sister are you not? I mean everyone saw the birth mark." Catra stands up angrily. "If you were my sister, you would have spent longer than 8 years looking for me! And how can you even compare me to this "mom" that I know absolutely nothing about!? Where are they anyways, huh? Where's great old mom and dad that I have spent the last 25 years not knowing about!" She unloads onto you and your feel your heartbreak at how disheveled she looked. You shouldn't have assumed everything would be smiles and laughs when the two of you first met.

"26." "Huh?" "You're... We're 26. Our birthday was 2 days ago." "So I don't even know my own birthday!" Catra explodes. "Get out." She says suddenly and quietly. "What?" "I said get out." She repeats and you shake your head at her. "I'm not leaving." You watch as Catra's hair stand up. "I am giving you one last warning, get out now or I will do something I might not regret." You cross your arms and stare her down. "I have spent the last 8 years planet hopping with my family looking for you. I. Am. Not. Leaving."

Catra jumps at you suddenly, attempting to scratch, hit, kick, do anything to make you leave the tent. Instead of doing what she wanted, you just wrapped her in a tight hug and sat on the ground. You stay like that for a while, her trying to hold back sobs and angry tears before finally letting go and you just rubbing circles on her back to try and calm her down. "Why?" Is all she says after almost an hour of being in that position. "Why what?" "Why now?" You let out a sad sigh at her question. "Mom and Dad are dead, killed by the Horde Prime and his followers when I was 10." You can feel Catra flinch at how blunt you were and the fact that she had worked for the Horde only a few years ago. "You had already been missing for 8 years at that point, multiple search teams being sent out but none could find you." You squeeze Catra tighter as you feel yourself relive all the grief that you carried for the past 16 years.

"I managed to get most of our people off the planet and to our sister planet before the Horde completely destroyed everything. Got everyone situated on that planet, met the love of my life, renounced my claim to any throne, and finally I started looking for you." It's silent for a few minutes as Catra absorbed everything you said. "So..." You asked as you wiped your tears off your face. "What about you?"

You and Catra spent the rest of the night and next day sharing stories about your childhood and how differently but similar the two of you had grown up. You even got to tease her about Adora and the fact that you were, technically, her older sister by 2 minutes. You were also very excited when you got to show Catra around the ship you had taken to get to Etheria.

---

"So I am guessing everything went well?" Lena asked over the radio after you finally called her about coming to Etheria. "It was a little rocky at the beginning but we smoothed things over... She's great Lena, you guys are gonna love each other." You say with a giant smile on your face as you look at Catra who was relaxing in the copilot seat next to you.

#Catra x reader #x reader #spop #spop x reader #she ra and the princess of power fanart #she ra and the princesses of power x reader #platonic

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finchleaf · 3 years

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howdy! sorry i've been away for so long; i've been visiting family here in turkey but i'm gonna try to start this blog back up :) for now it'll mostly be journal pics

24th july - would you prefer your summer to be shorter or longer?

honestly? maybe a bit shorter. i feel like the days tend to blur together during summer break and not having school to focus on seems to make my mental health even worse :/ anyways! i'm very excited for senior year as you can tell haha

answering the rest down below!

1st July - What are your plans for this summer?

lots of traveling, working as a camp counselor in august, makin some sweet sweet money to save up for college, playing the new sims expansion pack (!!), and hanging out with friends as much as possible before schoolwork begins to bury me alive again :)

2nd July - Do you have a specific goal for this summer?

i want to study really well for my sat in late august!! (i’ve already made some great progress) also i want to get a lot of college app stuff out of the way (write some more practice essays bc i don’t like my current one, get my letters of rec in place, figure out my major, etc)

3rd July - Do you have a lot of work to do for school, university or your job this summer?

ooo ok we have to read a book and write an assignment for it for ap lit this year (except i think we start that once we get back to school?). also i need to do a bunch of summer hw for ap calc, but that’s pretty much it! and then i have a job for 2 weeks in august (as mentioned above hehe)

4th July - What is the most important task that you need to complete this summer?

probably college app stuff ahhh don’t want to even think about it anymore

5th July - Do you have any special plans or activities for this summer?

traveling to turkey to see my family!! staying in a couple of villas (there’s a lot of us!) and then my grandma’s old summer apartment for ~5 days

6th July - What do you usually do during the summer? Is anything different this year?

going to turkey! a lifelong tradition since i was a lil baby :) last year we couldn’t go so this year’s extra special. also my first time doin a summer job!!

7th July - What did you do during the summer when you were a young child?

^^^ same as above haha

8th July - What’s your happiest summer memory from your childhood?

ooh probably one of the many from my grandma’s little summer apartment here. i have an 11 yo cousin so we share a lot of memories like running to buy our anneanne her newspaper in the convenience store downstairs, finding fish underwater at the local beach, staying up late gorging on magnum ice cream bars :)

9th July - Do you usually go on vacation during the summer?

yup

10th July - What is the best vacation you have ever been on? (note: doesn’t have to be a summer vacation)

oooh one time after flying into istanbul to stay with aforementioned cousin and my aunt, we all traveled to london for about a week! i loved that so so much, we never could really afford to go anywhere else for vacation so that was super memorable for me.

11th July - What is your favourite vacation memory?

swimming with my family in oludeniz, (called “blue lagoon”) a super pretty beach area. we swam to a little island and then jumped off its cliff :)))

12th July - What is the worst vacation you have ever been on?

oh god ok vomit tw for this one but one time my aunt, cousin, mom, and i traveled back to istanbul after staying at my grandma’s in ayvalik and we had to take a boat for a couple of hours. everyone on the boat (and it was a big one) for some reason started vomiting everywhere. i was i think the only one who wasn’t sick so it was hell haha

13th July - What is your dream vacation?

like a month-long roadtrip around france!!!! i’ve wanted to go there since i was in elementary school

14th July - Would you rather stay in one resort for a month or travel across the country for one month?

definitely travel cross country omg

15th July - Are there any special events for you in the summer? (for example, birthdays, festivals, etc.)

bayram!! bayram is sick you get money for kissing the older people in your family sjfdsjj

16th July - Do you have any summer traditions?

renting a villa with the entire family!

17th July - What is your typical daily routine in the summer?

at home, i usually wake up anywhere from 7am to 10am, take my dog for 2+ walks, read a ton, and avoid work ;)

18th July - How do you stay motivated during the summer? (for example, to study)

it’s pretty tough! i’m hoping to study daily in my town’s library for my sat once i get back home in august. i think that’ll be pretty handy!

19th July - Do you stay indoors or outdoors more in the summer?

oh outdoors there’s no ac here so we’re constantly heading over to the beach

but at home in the us, probably indoors

20th July - Are you a ‘summer person’?

nOOOOOO i love any season/month that allows me to wear sweaters and pants, so obviously i’m not a big fan of summer

21st July - What is an unpopular opinion that you have about summer?

oh hm i’m not sure... most of the women in my family always wear bikinis when we go to the beach and i just really hate them? idk haha

also i think summer camps are kinda weird but that’s probably because i never went to one as a kid

22nd July - What does summer feel like where you live?

rather cool in the later afternoon. i also love how it smells there-- lots of freshly-cut lawns, grills constantly being used, the hydrangeas in our backyard

23rd July - Would you prefer summer to be hotter or colder than it usually is for you?

oh huh it can get reaaally hot midday so it would be nice if it was a bit cooler

#flpost #journal #lookrylie #studyvan #sonderstudy #philologystudies #myhoneststudyblr #heyzainab #heypeachblossom #athenastudying #jeonchemstudy #summer studying challenge

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prorevenge · 4 years

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My Grandmother Put Greedy Preachers In Their Places .... Twice .... Even After She Died

TL/DR - My grandmother generously served her "Bible Believing Christian" church for almost 50 years, without asking anything in return. But when she became elderly, disabled and homebound, her church acted like she did not exist - until she was in hospice care and literally on her deathbed, when that church showed a sudden interest in telling Grandma to, "Remember your church in your will". She waited until exactly the right moment, in front of exactly the right audience, to expose these greedy assholes for what they were.....twice.

My grandmother was a member of a large conservative "Bible Believing" church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call BigWhiteChurch, was a member of a large Evangelical denomination. BigWhiteChurch was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible Belt of the Deep South of the USA.

Grandma was very active in BigWhiteChurch. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught Youth Bible Study on Sunday nights and was very active in supporting Home Missions, as well as helping with other youth programs. She always tithed, and often gave extra for missions and special offerings.

Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this first-hand many times. Although I belonged to a different church, I often visited with Grandma, and when I did, I usually went to BigWhiteChurch functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of BigWhiteChurch Youth, a task which took over 2 hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then, after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high-school student leader for, "Doing such a great job of organizing the Prayer Breakfast".

I remember that, on a BigWhiteChurch youth retreat at a rural Church Camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieve a big box of evangelistic materials, that one of the Assistant Pastors (whom I'll call AssPastor) had forgotten and asked her to get, in time for our morning program the next day. His boss, the Senior Pastor (I'll call him PompousPastor), never found out that AssPastor had screwed up or that Grandma had fixed it for him. AssPastor never even thanked Grandma. Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all; she told me her reward would be that those materials, "Would help children find Jesus".

Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73, when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and could not go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever, and her faith remained sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day.

During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit her at her home, etc., without success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored.

Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my Grandpa called her church and asked for the Senior Pastor, PompousPastor, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so that they could plan her memorial service, which she and Grandpa wanted to be held at the church.

PompousPastor was too busy, but AssPastor stopped by a few days later. According to my Grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting, with my Grandma literally on her deathbed:

Grandma, Grandpa and AssPastor discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then AssPastor started pressuring her to, "Lay up your treasure in Heaven" by, "Remembering your church in your will".

Grandpa told him firmly that, "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will."

They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then AssPastor steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly "her" church needed "her support".

Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or the church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. AssPastor would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs, heavenly rewards, "Where your treasure is your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34), etc.

My Grandma started crying.

To put this into context, Grandma was more than a "Steel Magnolia". She was "Titanium Coated With Diamond Wrapped In Kevlar". She rarely ever cried, and never EVER cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following 6 months in futile rehab. She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospital when they received bad news. She would cry to console others, "Weep with those who weep". But nobody - not Grandpa, not her daughter (my mom), nor any of my uncles or Grandma's siblings - ever remembered her crying for herself.

My Grandma was sobbing uncontrollably.

Grandpa, a retired steelworker, ex-Marine Sergeant and Korean War combat veteran, physically grabbed AssPastor and "escorted" him out of their house, not too gently.

Contrary to everyone's expectations, Grandma lived another 6 months, mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Grandma passed away and we held her memorial service at the funeral home, not BigWhiteChurch. PompousPastor and AssPastor were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no "Professional Christians", from BigWhiteChurch, at the service at all, not even in the audience.

To start the service, Grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, "Some of you may have heard that I dis-invited PompousPastor and AssPastor from this funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them."

"This funeral service may be different from other funerals that you have attended. It is going to be an "open microphone" funeral. Everyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that is worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I have asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so."

There were about a hundred people at the funeral service; at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours and, as best I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs on the piano and guitar, we all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns.

Afterwards, dozens of people told my Grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remarked that, "Funerals are better without preachers anyway", or something similar.

REMEMBERING HER PASTORS AND HER CHURCH IN HER WILL: THE ONE-TWO PUNCH

A couple of weeks later, it was time to start distributing the bequests in Grandma's will. Although Grandma and Grandpa dearly loved each other, they had separate wills because, she told my Mom, "That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf", and because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous, well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50+ years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg.

Of course, there is no legal requirement for anyone to attend "The Reading Of The Will", or to even have a "Reading". Modern telecommunications and near-universal literacy have made this quaint custom practically extinct.

But "The Reading Of The Will" was a tradition in our family because it was one of those events that gave our close-knit, extended family an excuse to get together. We never had "Family Reunions". They were too difficult to schedule for our large family. But we got together at birthdays, holidays, funerals, baptisms, etc., so that if you attended several of these, you would see just about every one of your cousins, aunts, uncles, and even great aunts & uncles who were Grandma's and Grandpa's siblings and in-laws.

With this family tradition in mind, many of our family members' wills often contained very personal bequests of items that had little cash value, but were the departed family member's way of telling their loved ones that they wanted to share a cherished memory with them one last time.

As an added incentive to attend, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by Grandpa, that Grandma's will contained some "surprises".

The "Reading" was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and many of the grandchildren.

We were all surprised, however, to see PompousPastor and AssPastor from BigWhiteChurch. They informed us that Grandma's lawyer had told them that Grandma's will had bequests not only for BigWhiteChurch, but also for them personally.

Maybe it was just our imagination; but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these Preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at Grandma's generosity.

Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will. The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle-class living room. Extra chairs had been brought in, every seat was filled and people were standing in every remaining space.

There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyer suggested that PompousPastor and AssPastor sit in chairs which were in the front of the room, next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant that the lawyer and these two Preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else. Although the Preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as all of the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the packed-to-more-than-overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room's single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape.

The bequests were quite generous, but pretty much what we had expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts and everything that remained after all of the bequests had been satisfied. Children, grandchildren and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant, amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives.

Grandpa was first beneficiary listed in the will. But, after him, all of the other bequests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece and nephew received a little more, then several local non-profits received very nice amounts, etc.

Bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor were (almost) the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but with steadily growing anticipation, as they noticed the exponential upward trend in Grandma's largess.

When Grandma's lawyer got to the BigWhiteChurch and Preachers' part of the will, he said, "This is a bit unusual, but before I announce these bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor, Ms [Grandma's name] requested that I read the following statement to everyone present."

He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting...

"For the past 10 years, NOT ONE person from BigWhiteChurch has ever called me, come to visit me or sent me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all of those years, loved dearly and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me, for many, many years. But when I needed you and your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist."

"I only got one visit. When I was dying and I invited PompousPastor to come to my house and help me plan my funeral."

"This was my last attempt, after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years, to reach out to my church and Pastor, whom I still loved dearly even though they had made it clear that they did not love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends, whom I had not seen in a decade, would come to the service to see me one last time. And I know they loved to hear PompousPastor preach, so if he preached at my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they would not have come to see me.

But PompousPastor couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not he was willing to preach at my funeral. AssPastor came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to, 'Remember his church in my will'. That's all. Just, 'Remember his church in my will'".

"It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The VERY last time."

"AssPastor did not know it when he visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will, long before his visit, which did include a double tithe - TWENTY PERCENT - of my ENTIRE ESTATE, for what was now my former ... FORMER ... church ... BigWhiteChurch.

This amount was [named the amount - an enormous shitload of money - generating muffled "wows" from many of her heirs, including me].

"But I got to feeling badly that we had not personally remembered such nice people as PompousPastor and AssPastor. So I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to BigWhiteChurch to match all of the love that they have showed to me during the last 10 years of my life, when I was suffering and lonely, and no longer able to work my ass off for them, for free, like I had done for almost half a century."

"That is her entire written statement", the lawyer said. "Now let's get back to the bequests in the will."

"Bequest to AssPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to PompousPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to BigWhiteChurch: One Cent".

The PompousPastor and AssPastor sat there looking like someone had just injected a gallon of novacaine into their jaws.

Every one of Grandma's family and friends felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. But we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it.

"There is one last bequest," the lawyer continued, "For a charity called ...", which he named and I'll call "BlackCharity", then he paused before naming the amount....

Most of us had no idea what BlackCharity was. But, by the looks on their faces, we could tell that PompousPastor and AssPastor knew BlackCharity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread and horror that they would have if the lawyer had said, "This bequest goes to The Demonic Baby Eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal".

Every eye in the room was now fixated on PompousPastor and AssPastor.

The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, one of Grandma's and Grandpa's sons, let the silence continue a few seconds more....

If we had been able to read PompousPastor's and AssPastor's minds, we would have known the history behind the looks on their faces. BlackCharity was sponsored by a large Black church just a few miles from BigWhiteChurch. They ran a free food/clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery of pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid, and other social services.

A long time ago, BigWhiteChurch, which was (and still is) 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to BlackCharity. Then there was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because BlackCharity was practicing "The Social Gospel", while BigWhiteChurch was preaching "The True Gospel". BigWhiteChurch even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.

But, this being The Deep South, everyone knew the real reason why BigWhiteChurch, or any white church, would stop supporting a Black charity: "Those n****** were getting uppity and not staying in their place". Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving BigWhiteChurch at that time. But they had reasoned that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words and example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth at their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, "My church is my Mission Field". We did not learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.

Since then, Grandma and Grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their "Tithe" to BlackCharity every month.

Most of Grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended.

But PompousPastor and AssPastor obviously understood what Grandma, by her actions which are more powerful than words, was saying to them. If you had grown up as a white person in the Deep South, as Grandma, Grandpa, PompousPastor and AssPastor had, you would understand.

To many white Southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemned their bigotry and crushed their delusions of white superiority by saying, "These Black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve my money more than you do".

Having allowed time for everyone to observe PompousPastor and AssPastor while they thought about how their white church had treated this Black charity, and how they AND their church had treated our Grandma...

The lawyer said, "The amount is...."

Then he named the EXACT SAME AMOUNT that Grandma had named in her handwritten letter, the huge amount of money that would have gone to BigWhiteChurch if she had not changed her will.

(source) story by (/u/BamaFan4Jesus)

#prorevenge #by /u/BamaFan4Jesus #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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harryhandstan · 4 years

Text

washed away in you

I don’t have much to say except I appreciate your patience with me as I worked on this piece! I apologize again for all the confusion with posting and deleting and now reposting. This is the third part to my Dad!Harry series. Once again you don’t have to read those to understand this one, but I’ve linked them below in case you would like to revisit them. :)

Thank you to @taintedwonder for reading over part of this for me!

word count: 4.2k

needles tw // (small mention towards the end)

I Want Your Belly (part one) | Wonderful and Warm (part two) | writing tag | masterlist

y’all have already been so good to me but as always likes, rbs, and comments are welcome!!

Of all the weeks to be put on bed rest, it had to be the week that Harry started filming for his new movie role.

Technically you were on modified bed rest, which meant resting as much as possible but still moving around as necessary, but the phrase terrified Harry enough that he was doing whatever he could to keep you still. It hadn’t been an easy task, you were in your 8th month of pregnancy, quickly approaching your due date, and there still seemed to be a mountain of important things to get done before your son’s arrival.

It had only been two days since you’d started having what you thought were contractions. It had forced you and Harry to realize just how unprepared the two of you were when you had to rush out of the house at 2 a.m. with nothing packed for what could possibly be the night of your child’s appearance into the world. Just the two of you with disheveled hair and rumpled pajamas under the harsh lighting of the ER exam room. 8 hours of tests and scans and a visit from your doctor later, you returned home to fall back in bed and catch up on the sleep you had missed.

“Listen you’re both new to all this..I get it. But you’re putting too much stress on your body and that’s what caused this tonight. I know it’s hard but, take a week, relax, bed rest as much as possible. I’ll see you in my office again in a few days just to make sure everything is progressing along like we want. If there’s still too much stress on the baby, we may have to push your due date up a little earlier. But we don’t want to do that if we can avoid it.”

Currently you were in the nursery, where most of the last minute things to do remained. You were standing at the changing table, folding a set of onesies to be put away. Harry had been urging you for the past 10 minutes to sit down.

“Harry, I have been in bed all night, or as much of it as your son allowed me to be without kicking me in the ribs or pressing on my bladder. I just wanna get these folded and put away and I’ll be done.”

“Well you can at least sit while y’doing them. Or, let me finish ‘em.” His hands fall on your shoulders, gently guiding you towards the rocking chair in the corner. You gesture for him to bring the basket closer, “And why is he only my son when he’s causing you trouble?”

“Maybe cause it was your birthday treat that got us into this mess. Or because he already likes to tease us so much. Besides, you can’t do them, I have a system.”

“Yeah, a birthday treat planned by you. And I know the system, you showed me two days ago.”

“You knew the system, we changed it.”

“We? I’ve barely been home how’ve we..”

“I may have called your Mum again.” You shrug, propping your feet up on the small ottoman positioned in front of the chair, “She and I agreed it’s better this way.”

“You didn’t think it was important to notify me of this system you and y’new bestie have thought up?” He’s turned to lean his back against the changing table, arms folded across his chest. As much as he wants to be upset, he’s over the moon that you and Anne have become so much closer over the past few months. Between his mom and yours, plus your sister and his, he was thrilled to see you had so much support for days when he couldn’t be there. Anne had offered to fly out to spend the week with you, as did your mom, but you put them both off, promising you would need them more the few weeks after the birth.

“Been a little busy growing a human here, Harry. May have slipped my mind. I would’ve gotten around to it eventually.”

“Right, you can just tell me where everything goes then.” He’s already worked his way through folding the last of the pile, smiling proudly at you as you lean your head back and close your eyes, sinking further into the chair.

“Socks in the second drawer to the left, hats in the middle. If the onesies are newborn sized, they go to the right. Anything bigger than that gets tucked in the baskets by size there in the middle shelf of the closet, if you can find room.”

Between the two of your families and your group of mutual friends, you’d been given 4 baby showers over the past few months, combining with the items you and Harry had supplied for yourselves. People had been more than generous in helping stock the nursery for your little one.

“All done. How ‘bout some breakfast now?”

“You don’t have time. You have to be on set in less than an hour. I’ll make myself something in a bit. I may go back to sleep for a while, just got up to see you off and wanted to put those things away.”

“Always have time for you, angel,” He offers his hand to help you lift yourself up, “Maybe a smoothie?”

“Alright, if I let you make me a smoothie, will you take yours to go? Don’t want you to be late because of me.”

“Deal. But only if you let me tuck you back into bed before I go.”

“Deal.” You lean up slightly to accept the sweet kiss he offers before shuffling off to the kitchen together.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve decided. You’re not allowed to look.”

You knew he wasn’t listening, trying to maybe, but not really. He sits across the room at the desk in the corner of your bedroom, glasses perched on the end of his nose, guitar in his lap, journal open in front of him. He’s in writing mode, something that usually takes you at least 30 minutes to coax him from and convince him to come to bed. Not that you ever wanted to interrupt his process, but tonight you’re feeling anxious about your impending delivery, dread slowing working its way through your body.

It had been only a few days since your follow up appointment with your doctor. She had deemed you fit to come off bed rest, but urged you to continue to try to keep your stress level to a minimum as much as possible. Easier said than done, but you were finding small ways to relax yourself when you could; meditation, music, reading. But tonight you just wanted Harry for reassurance.

In your nightly scroll through one of your recent favorite mom-to-be blogs, you had come across an article on the difficulty of delivery. You appreciated moms who were brave enough to share their stories online and this person in particular had included a video. Despite your anxiety, you clicked to watch, curiosity overriding any fear rising in your chest.

When he finally puts away the guitar and the journal and sheds his soft purple robe to swim up the bed to settle next to you, he asks, “Were y’sayin’ something earlier, m’love? Got lost there for a bit, m’sorry.”

His writing sessions were normally done in his office or the studio, but the past few weeks he’d preferred to do them here. Liked the idea of you trying to softly hum along to a new tune he was working through, occasionally offering your opinions about what you liked or didn’t. It was rare that you disliked anything, but he liked that you didn’t shy away from being honest with him. His favorite though? The sight of you, an open book, hand always resting on the side of your belly while you read. It was just as much a comfort for him to be near you these days as it was for you.

“Yeah. I’ve decided. You’re not allowed to look when I deliver this baby.”

His head rests on your thigh, only the side of his face visible as he looks up at you, but it’s enough to see the disappointment flash before he composes himself, not wanting to upset you.

“Alright. What d’you mean by that? Like..you don’t want me in the room or..”

“No, no, I want you in the room, that was never a question. You’re just not allowed to look when I’m pushing. I watched a video and I’m traumatized and I just..”

He sits up quickly, “You watched a birthing video? Without me?”

“Yeah, earlier when you were zoned out. You’ve never seen one?”

“Never been curious enough to watch one ‘til now. Not ‘til I thought of you having our babe. Show me the one you watched?”

You’re hesitant. Truly you’re touched he’s so curious and wants to share this experience with you, but right now the thought of him seeing your body change like that is scary. He senses your unease, almost reads your mind; he knows you so well.

“Babe, s’your body. If you really don’t want me t’look, then I won’t. Just..at least show me what you watched so I can see for myself what it’s like, what you’ll go through. S’all m’askin’ for now.”

“Okay, fine,” You pat the bed next to you and he scurries up to sit, his head on your shoulder while you navigate through your browser history to find the video. You start it, but your eyes stay focused on his face.

“Y’not gonna watch it again with me?”

“No,” You drape your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer so you can rest your head on top of his, “I’d rather watch your reactions this time around.”

You’re curious to see how he reacts to certain parts; his little gasps and winces as the video progresses. When it ends, you’re not surprised to see tears have fallen down his face and made a small wet spot on the front of his t-shirt.

“Harry, you’re not upset with me, are you?”

“‘Course not, meant what I said earlier. If you really don’t want me t’look, then I won’t..but I don’t want you to think I’ll look at you any differently after. You’re givin’ me one of the greatest gifts anyone ever has, if anything I love you more than I ever thought I could. And that’s only gonna grow once our boy’s here.”

You run your hands through his hair, not sure what to say. You’ve never had a love this big, one that envelops you so fully. The past few months have shown you just how deeply he cares for you, and just how much your own heart could stretch to fill with your overwhelming love for Harry and now the baby growing inside you.

He doesn’t take offense to your silence, just stills your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips. He slumps further down the bed, head level with your stomach. He pokes it softly through your shirt. He doesn’t even have to ask anymore, you know what he wants and you’re glad to give in to him. You scoot down to rest your head on your pillow, pulling your shirt up and tucking the fabric under your breasts.

Instantly his head rests on your tummy, a hand reaching around to lay there on the other side of it, wrapping himself around you. You reach over and turn the lamp on your bedside table off, sleep drifting it’s way through your body and mind. You let one hand fall to his back, the other one joining his arm to wrap protectively around your belly.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“You can look. If you want.”

“Y’don’t have to decide tonight. We still have a little time to plan.”

“No. I don’t want to take any of this experience from you. The whole thing’s just a bit scary though.”

“I know it is, m’terrified too. But everything’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna be there for every second of it.”

“I know you are. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane through all this. You’ve been so good to me, H. Putting up with all my mood swings and late night cravings and whatever I needed.”

“I haven’t had to ‘put up’ with anything. Just want to make you and bub as happy as y’both already make me.” He turns to kiss the side of your stomach before looking up at you, “Comfy? Am I squishin’ you?”

“No, it’s nice. Don’t see how you can be comfy though.”

“I’ll move to my pillow in a bit. Just like being close to you and bub,” He yawns, “Goodnight, babe. Love you both so much.”

“We love you too, Harry. More than you’ll ever know.”

Sleep had been pretty much non-existent in your third trimester. You were lucky if you got a few hours each night and cat naps throughout the day were rare.

Tonight is no different. It’s 3 a.m and once you get up for your fifth trip to the bathroom, you know there’s no point in trying to get comfortable again. Harry will be up soon, and as much as he tries to stay quiet during his morning routine, he always found some way to unintentionally wake you. You couldn’t even sleep through his soft kisses to your forehead to say goodbye anymore.

Normally you take yourself down to the living room to find a mindless tv show or movie to carry you through your insomnia, but Harry also seemed to be infected with your curse of being a light sleeper these days. Most nights he would attempt to join you, sweet enough to not want you to be alone, stubborn enough to not listen each time you urged him to go back to bed. He always paid for it the day after though, dark circles under his eyes and nodding off to sleep throughout whatever he had scheduled.

So in hopes that you wouldn’t wake him by leaving tonight, you reach for the remote to the bedroom tv, muting it so the noise won’t disturb him. You would almost be content enough to stare at him for the rest of the night. The sharp outline of his jaw, freckles scattered across his face that would rival the constellations in the sky, all softened by the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. As much as you don’t want to wake him, you can’t help but reach out to run the back of your hand over the smooth skin of the man you admire so much. You adore the way even in his sleep he molds to your touch, soft snores and deep, even breaths never stopping as you move up to brush his curls away from his face.

You almost make it through 20 minutes of a movie before his eyes flutter open. You know how much your false contractions from before weighed on him, alarm is quick to flood his face before he has a chance to take in his surroundings.

You answer before he has a chance to let worry take over, “It’s alright. We’re okay. Just the usual..couldn’t sleep.”

He rubs his eyes to clear them, “What time s’it?”

“4:30.”

He squints slightly at the movie playing before chuckling, “How many times y’think you’ve watched this one? Know it’s been at least a dozen or so in the last month.”

“It’s my favorite. One of them, anyway. It’s always been soothing to me.”

“Bet you could quote the whole thing by now, even with it muted.”

You glance up at the tv and it only takes a second for you to pinpoint the exact part. You take his comment as a challenge, pushing yourself up out of your nest of pillows to rest your back against the headboard before quoting, “Faith is a bluebird you see from afar. It’s for real, and as sure as the first evening star. You can’t touch it, or buy it, or wrap it up tight. But it’s there just the same, making things turn out right.”

Your voice breaks as you say the last few words. Maybe it’s the combination of exhaustion and all the new fears and hormones running through your mind and body. Nostalgia of watching this when you were younger and now sharing it with your child when they are old enough touches your heart and you can’t stop the tears continuously streaming down your face.

“Baby,” He pushes himself up to rest next to you, tugging you until you're pressed close to his side, “Please don’t cry.”

“M’miserable, Harry. I’m as big as the moon and I can’t breathe and my feet always hurt and I’m just..ready for him to be here. Ready for him to be out so I can hold him and kiss him and put him in his own bed so I can rest in mine again.”

You know you sound childish and whiny and somewhat ridiculous, but being so sleep deprived means all sense has left and so the words come spilling out, a jumbled mess you doubt he even understood.

“I know you are, love. Hate to see you so upset,” He kisses the top of your head, “Certainly as bright as the moon, but not as big. Your body’s as exactly as it should be. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but that’s only cause you’re tired. He’ll be here soon and we’ll have so many people here to help, yeah?”

All you can do is nod, you know he’s right and you know once you have a nap things won’t feel so overwhelming. You pull yourself away from him to wipe your face on your t-shirt. A smile stretches across your lips as the thought enters your mind, “If I’m as bright as the moon, you’re as golden as the sun.”

“Yeah?” He’s blushing now, looking down at his hands before his eyes dart up to meet yours, “Guess that makes bub our little star, huh?”

You giggle before shrugging, “Guess so.”

“By the way,” His hand rests on your thigh, “We gonna keep calling him bub or we gonna pick a name?”

“Bub’s cute. Bub Styles.” You wrinkle your nose at the thought, “I just want it to be perfect for him, you know? I feel like I need to see his face before I just blindly pick a name. We could definitely narrow down some options though and see which one suits him best.”

“We’ll think of something special, eh? Somethin’ just f’him.”

“Yeah, we will,” You suck in a sharp intake of breath at a particularly hard kick from within your stomach. Harry’s head snaps to look over your face before looking down to where your hand lays on your belly.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are wide, on edge as he waits for your answer.

“It’s fine he’s just..ah, being a little rowdy this morning.” You take his hand from your thigh and press it to where the kicks were landing, “Right here. Think that’s his butt, his head’s down here, and..ah, his feet are right about here. Can you feel him?”

His palm lays flat across the front of your belly, “S’amazing, never gets old. Bet it feels so..weird to you though.”

“At first, yeah, but got used to it pretty quickly. It’s comforting now, like he’s saying hello or contributing to our conversations when we talk.”

He puts his mouth almost right against your tummy, so close his breath tickles and you feel the vibrations when he speaks, “Take it easy on mumma, little one. Just a bit longer, yeah? Can’t wait to see ya face. Bet y’so handsome like daddy, just gotta be a lil’ more patient like mummy, alright?”

“Think maybe he’s ready for his pre-breakfast snack?”

“Dunno..I’ll ask him though,” He bends again, “That why y’bein’ such a brat to mum, huh? Woke her up early cause you were hungry? Alright, daddy’ll make your usual.”

He kisses your stomach, before straightening to where he’s level with your face, “That sound good?”

Your “usual” was a bowl of what had been your biggest craving throughout your pregnancy; fruit. On nights like this when sleeplessness couldn’t be defeated, the two of you normally gave in pretty quickly and had breakfast together. On days when you were able to sleep through Harry’s departure, you would always wake to the bowl already prepared and ready for you. Oftentimes there would be a quickly scribbled note with the words “Love, H” stuck to the top or the side of the bowl, like you didn’t already know who had left it for you.

“You’re spoiling him already, Harry.”

He smacks a quick kiss to your cheek, pulling back just a second before diving back in to peck another one on your other cheek, “Tryin’ to spoil you too, angel.”

Contractions, real ones you were sure this time, had started 30 minutes ago. As much as Harry wanted to rush you out of the house in your pajamas, you had insisted on at least 5 minutes to change and pull your hair into a quick ponytail before gathering your bag and dashing down the stairs.

Just as Harry’s hand lands on the doorknob, you tug on the sleeve of his jacket, “Harry, stop for a second.”

“Why? Are you having one now?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“This is one of our last moments before we become parents. I want you to slow down, take a deep breath, and kiss me.”

“You’re impossible, you know that? Active labor and you stop me for a kiss.” He rolls his eyes but you can see his shoulders drop, relaxing just enough to press his lips firmly against yours. You reach your hand up and around to the back of his neck, deepening it for a moment before drawing back to scan his face.

“Better?” Your hand continues to work through his hair, happy to watch his face relax slightly at your touch.

“Much. How are you so calm?”

“I don’t know, really. I thought I would be scared, and I am but..I’m ready. So ready to meet him.”

“Me too. Let’s go.” His hand falls to the small of you back, leading you out the door and to the car.

Once you arrive at the hospital, he doesn’t leave your side, not even when the nurse suggests he do so while you get your epidural. She agrees to let him stay, but makes him sit in a chair in front of you and sternly tells him not to look.

He holds both of your hands, squeezing them tightly as an attempt to distract you. He knows how much you hate needles, how the thought of this procedure alone had scared you almost as much as the idea of labor. You release a deep sigh of relief when they announce it’s done, and he helps you settle back into bed, tucking the blanket around you.

“So proud of you, baby. You’re already doing amazing.”

Things progress much faster than you ever thought they would, and it’s only three hours before you’re ready to push. Harry’s there for every second of it, hand behind your back and small encouragements in your ear when you think you can’t go any further.

“M’tired, H.” The room is full of people, your doctor and a set of nurses, but his focus stays on you; simply existing together in that moment. Small pieces of hair have come loose from your ponytail, clinging to the sweat now covering your forehead. He sweeps them away before resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I know y’are, lovie, but you’re so so close. Doin’ so incredible,” His smile is so wide, beaming at you when he leans closer, “Y’look gorgeous too, never seen you look more stunning than now.”

That has a laugh bursting from you, still breathless when you reply, “You’re such a bad liar.”

“M’serious! Know better than to lie to you.” He winks just before working his arm around behind your back again, giving you the motivation you needed to keep going.

It’s not long before you hear what you’re certain is one of the best sounds you’ll ever hear, the sweet sound of your baby boy’s cry as he enters the world.

An hour later, both of you are still in awe of your little one, sleeping peaceful now in their dad’s strong arms. Harry’s wedged himself next to you in the hospital bed, long legs stretched in front of him. He keeps looking between where your head is propped on his shoulder and the baby.

He breaks the silence first, “Definitely think he has your hair. S’nice and soft.”

“Think it’ll be darker like yours though. Maybe he’ll have your eyes.” You reach over to run your finger along your baby’s nose.

He looks between you and the baby again, a prideful smile brightening his face. He smushes his lips against your temple, and you close your eyes as the feeling of adoration combined with the exhaustion of the day washes over you.

You hear him whisper just as you’re drifting to sleep, “My moon and star, together at last.”

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #dad!harry #still not perfect but I like it so much more #hope you all enjoy it!

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hide-in-imagination · 3 years

Text

"Roads That Cross... on a Day Off"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21)

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Inspired by 'Call it what you want', which is honestly THE simbar song. The author regrets nothing.

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Simón’s left arm was asleep.

He noticed it the moment he woke up, but he refused to move. The prettiest head of blonde locks was using it as a pillow, and who was he to disturb her?

It was a rare occurrence that he woke up before Ámbar. She was a natural early riser while he liked to sleep as much as possible. He usually woke up from her movements as she started her day, or— and this was his favorite— with some caress or kisses from her part. He could start becoming a morning person if that was what awaited him.

So, uncommon as it was, he wanted to cherish this, just this, having her close in complete calmness. Ámbar’s back was to his chest, their legs close together, and his free arm was around her middle, holding her against him. He wanted to run his hand over her skin, or maybe take hers in his, but he didn’t want to risk anything putting an end to this moment.

He fleetingly wondered how long his arm could go without blood flow before it did some damage.

Oh well, who cared.

He couldn’t see her face spooning her like this, but he noticed when she started waking because the even rhythm of her breathing he had been following changed. She began to move, stretching slightly in a way that pressed her back more into him. Simón did hold her hand then and kissed her shoulder. She hummed softly and turned her head to look at him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice groggy from sleep. She rolled to rest her head on his chest, which his left arm appreciated. He laid on his back. “What time is it?” She asked after a moment of just relishing the closeness.

Simón extended his right arm over to the nightstand to check his phone. “Almost eleven.”

“Eleven?!” Ámbar jumped, as if he’d said four in the afternoon. “Wow, I hadn’t slept in this much in a long time…” She said, recovering from the surprise. She brought her gaze to his with a coquettish look. “You really wore me out.”

Simón smiled smugly and gave a small shrug. “Well, what can I say? I like to be very thorough,” he said playfully. “Or… maybe all of this was part of my evil plan to get you to let me sleep until a decent hour.”

She raised her brows. “Decent hour? By the time we go downstairs, we might as well have lunch.”

He gave her a look. “You’re totally exaggerating, it’s not that late.” He turned on his side and ran his knuckles softly over her right arm. “And anyway, I wasn’t planning on going to the dining room.” He smiled at her. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s the least my queen deserves.”

She tilted her head to the side with the cutest melted smile.

“Aww.” She cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you.”

He gave her another peck. “I love you more.”

She drew back with a gasp in fake outrage. “You do not want to start that discussion, mister.”

“Oh really?” He said, playing along.

“Yep, because you’re going to lose,” she said confidently. “So better give up now while you still can.”

He smirked. “Or what?”

Ámbar’s eyes narrowed with challenge just as he wanted. With the hint of a smile on her lips, she rose and sat astride him, keeping his gaze from above.

“Or I’ll have to show you just how wrong you are.”

Simón kept his mask of a straight face. “That remains to be seen.”

One beat later, he went and flipped her over, making her explode into giggles that he captured with kisses in between his own smiles.

Maybe breakfast could wait.

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

The instant that “Esta Noche No Paro” stopped playing, claps and cheers replaced the music. Gastón was fascinated with the final product. It was magical to see everything put together when he’d been right there, in front of the camera, not knowing the shots that would come out of it. He was happy to see that both his dance moves and the choreography’s synch had come out great, but even more than that, he was happy to see the twinkle on Matteo’s eyes and the huge grin that split his face in two. They’d watched the video at the Roller with Delfi, Jazmín, Pedro and Ramiro, and Gastón could honestly say that Matteo and Delfi deserved all the praises that came their way— The video was amazing.

Everyone was very excited, so much so that Pedro gave them all smoothies on the house. Gastón had missed hanging out with his friends like this, a lot. Just their cheery conversations were sweeter than any drink. It was good to be back, no matter how short the visit.

The group dispersed after a while, everyone continuing their daily routines. Gastón and Matteo stayed on a table, Matteo still stuck on the video.

“It’s just… I really think if there is one person that should be receiving praises right now, it’s Luna,” he said, half awed by her, half lamenting she wasn’t there. “I mean, she came up with the video, shemade it happen… I really don’t know how to thank her for all of this.”

Gastón looked at his friend and pretended to think for a second. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you could give her a bouquet of flowers,” he proposed, which Matteo seemed to like. “… And, while you’re at it, get back together with her.”

Matteo immediately became self-conscious. Gastón pushed forward. “Come on, dude, I’ve been here for a total of two days and it’s already obvious to me that you two still care about each other. Can you explain to me why you’re not together yet?”

Matteo averted his gaze, looking disheartened. “… A lot of things happened. Every time we get closer, we end up hurting each other and… Luna doesn’t feel the same way anymore.”

Gastón looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Matteo, she organized a whole music video for you. To cheer you up, to make youhappy. What else do you want? For her to write it in the sky?”

Tentatively, Matteo brought his gaze to his. “You really think so?”

“Everyone thinks so,” he declared. “You just need to gather the courage and go for it.”

Hope and worry mixed in Matteo’s expression. He looked down, seeming deep in thought. Gastón wished he didn’t drown in those thoughts of his so much and listened to his heart.

Just then, Nina entered the Roller with Jim and Yam and his eyes followed her as she walked over to a table, settling with her laptop as they talked about one thing or another.

Gastón filled his lungs with a big, deep breath. Time to start following his own advice.

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

By the time they finally deigned to leave the bed it was like two in the afternoon, and only because Ámbar thought it’d be a bad idea to introduce herself to Simón’s mom while in bed with him. She wanted to make a good impression— The woman didn’t need to know how she was defiling her son.

They sat on one of the couches in the living room for a more neutral setting. Ámbar chose a white top with a white linen sweater over it for the occasion. It made her look harmless enough. She also liked how its black and cream pearl embellishments combined with her dark jeans, and the weather had been a bit cooler lately. Simón had also opted for wearing his jean shirt over his purple t-shirt instead of tying it around his hips for that same reason.

They settled in front of her laptop’s screen for the video chat. It had been Ámbar’s idea to have it through there so it was more comfortable, that way neither side had to be holding up a phone.

Just as Simón had told her, the call hadn’t been a serious affair at all. She’d been a little nervous at the beginning, but Simón’s mom’s wide smile and warm personality put her at ease quickly. The woman didn’t seem to hate her at all, and she seemed too genuine to be pretending to like her. She reminded her so much of Simón. She knew that he mostly looked like his dad from the photos she’d seen on his Instagram, but he had his mother’s eyes, and the more Ámbar talked to the woman, the more pieces of him she found in her. It warmed her heart.

It wasn’t a very long chat, but Simón’s mom found the time to tell her a fun story of when Simón was a kid, much to his embarrassment and her insurmountable enjoyment. She promised to show her the family photo albums when she visited Cancún. Ámbar loved the idea.

“You’ll have to show me your photos too then,” Simón told her, his eyes shining with excitement and curiosity.

Ámbar did her best to keep her smile in place. She didn’t have any photos from when she was a kid that she knew of. Sharon wasn’t one for sentimentalities like that. If she had any, they were probably taken by Amanda on specific dates like her first day at kindergarten and at the Blake. Maybe some from old birthdays. Ámbar had no idea where those could be though… if Sharon had kept them at all.

The only old photos she knew she had were from photoshoots. She’d first asked for one when she turned twelve, and had some more done after that. When all cellphones started having decent cameras, it became easier to have photos.

Ámbar chose not to say any of it, and tried not to let it darken her mood, but the bitter reminder stuck on the back of her mind. The contrast between Simón’s mom’s sweetness and the cold, scolding texts she’d been receiving from Sharon was too great. Ámbar was ignoring them. Her godmother had no right to reprimand her for anything when she was keeping her secret at the expense of jeopardizing her happiness.

The video call ended with Simón’s mom teasingly warning him to behave and giving Ámbar permission to put him in his place if he didn’t. The irony of Ámbar promising to keep him on the right track was not lost on her, but it was just playfulness in the end. She only hoped that the future plans they’d talked about did come to pass.

After that, Simón insisted on inviting her out for lunch. “When was the last time we had time for an actual date? We need to seize this opportunity!” He took her to a restaurant he’d visited before with Pedro and Nico. It was nothing fancy, completely unlike the restaurants Sharon took her to the times they ate outside, but it was nice, and the food was delicious. The company was the best part, of course. Ámbar felt like she could’ve eaten anything and anywhere as long as she was with Simón. She nursed her drink slowly just so they could stay there longer, smiling and conversing. She suspected he did the same.

They had a brief fight over who would pay the bill. Ámbar argued that there was no need for him to spend money on her when she had more than she needed, but Simón insisted that he had invited her so it should be his treat. She proposed splitting it, but Simón wanted to pay for both. Sensing that it was important to him, she relented.

She grabbed his hand as they left and they walked down the street with their fingers interlocked. Ámbar would’ve been happy to just walk around with him for the rest of the afternoon until the sun went down, but he proposed they went back to the mansion.

When they got there though, she didn’t get to cross the front door before Simón stopped her.

“Wait for me right here, don’t move.”

Ámbar frowned but did as told while he disappeared inside, curious as to what idea he’d come up with.

He reappeared about five minutes later, with both hands behind his back, sign that he was hiding something.

“Okay, so, um, I want to make you a surprise,” he started.

She smiled with interest. “Okay…”

“But, in order to do that, I’m going to need you to be out of the mansion for a while.”

Ámbar raised a brow. Now this was unexpected, but she was too curious to say no. “Like for how long?”

“I don’t know, an hour?”

“And… what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Simón finally brought his hands forward, revealing one pair of her skates and her helmet. “You can rollerskate,” he said cheerily. “I’ve noticed that with so much work you haven’t found much time to do so lately. And, I mean, it’s a shame really, to deny the world the chance of seeing the queen of the rink in action.”

Her heart melted with the flattery, and especially for how thoughtful a gesture it was. “You’re so cute. But the idea of this day was to spend it together,” she argued, moving closer to place her hands on his shoulders. “I would rather skate with you. I miss it.”

He showed a sympathetic smile. “Me too. We can do that if we find some time at work one of these days. But now,” he handed her her things, “you can have some alone time and clear your head.”

Ámbar received them with an acquiescent smile. “Okay.”

“I’ll text you when you can come back.”

“Okay. Just try not to destroy my house with whatever you have planned.”

Simón chuckled. “I won’t. I may have to borrow a couple of things though, you don’t mind?”

She shrugged. “You live here, grab whatever you like.”

They shared a short parting kiss.

“Have fun,” he said with a smile.

Ámbar gave him one last peck just because she could and left.

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

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Nina smoothed her hands down her skirt. They were sweating so hard, and she knew it had nothing to do with the mellow autumn sun shining over them in the quiet square.

It was all about the boy in front of her, who’d always had the ability to make her heart pound. And to whom, she realized, she still hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah, well, we’re still friends, right?” She somehow managed to articulate nervously, trying to show a smile. “I mean, if you need something, advice or anything like that, I can help. Although, I don’t know if I’d really be much help. Maybe you should talk about it with Matteo?”

Gastón looked at her in silence, in the eyes, in a way that did nothing to calm her heart.

“Matteo can’t help me with this,” he said, just the slightest hint of sadness in his voice showing he wished it were not so. “No one, really... It is about you and me.”

Yes, that was exactly what she’d feared. “…You wanna talk about us?”

Gastón nodded solemnly.

“Could we take a seat?” He invited her gently, signaling to the bench right next to them.

They both sat, keeping some small distance between them, but they were still very close. When had been the last time they’d been this close? Alone? Nina was having a hard time keeping his gaze. She was gripping the strap of her bag so hard her fingers would probably hurt later.

“Look, Nina,” Gastón started, his tense shoulders the only thing that betrayed he was nervous too, “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks… and you have no idea how much I miss you.”

Her heart clenched painfully.

God, how many times had she dreamed with him saying those words? So many scenarios, so many things she’d wished to say. And now she was frozen.

“Every second I’m not studying I think of you,” Gastón continued, his emotion-filled voice hitting her with each word. “Hell, even when I’m studying I think of you— That I haven’t failed a class is a miracle.” He looked down, ashamed. “And I know that saying this now is unfair when it was me who wanted to end it but… I need to correct my mistake.” Gastón looked up. Honest, determined eyes bore into hers. “I want us to be together again, Nina. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Nina felt herself tremble.

“I… I don’t understand,” she uttered, her brain registering the words but unable to process them. Or perhaps she was too scared to. “What happened with all you said? What happened with not making each other suffer and letting destiny bring us back together someday if it was meant to be?” She’d held on to that. To the belief that their names were being kept by the sea and maybe they’d find each other in the future. She’d accepted that, and now he…

“That was before my best friend fell off a fence,” Gastón said, somber, and his expression just quieted her once more. “He could’ve died, Nina. One bad hit in the head is all it takes. And I would’ve been a hemisphere away.” His hands clenched. His face reflected how much the idea tormented him. “I started thinking of possibilities. Matteo could’ve died or ended up in vegetative state or in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Accidents happen every day— And what if it had been you?” He said, his eyes dancing between hers in fear. “What if something had happened to you and I wouldn’t have been able to be there?” His jaw set. His head shook slightly. “I can’t trust a hypothetical future when I could die tomorrow.”

Nina’s throat tightened. “Don’t say things so horrible, please.”

“It’s true,” he dismissed her pleading, not harshly but with the calmness of someone who has complete certainty of what he’s saying. “That’s why I had to come. For Matteo, and for you. To ask you to give me another chance.”

He seemed to want to hold her hands but didn’t dare to do so. They fell back on the bench, right on the edge of the flounce of her skirt. Nina had no chance to be either disappointed or relieved by that because his eyes held her captive.

“I’m so sorry,” Gastón said, like from the bottom of his heart. “I gave up on us too soon. I was a coward; I see that now. I thought I was doing what was best for us, so we wouldn’t have to suffer from being so far apart. But maybe I was just thinking of myself and what I thought would hurt me less. Maybe I was just too afraid of you finding some other guy… And now, because of that, my greatest fear came true,” he said dejectedly, averting his gaze. “I’ve been told that you have a thing with Eric…”

“No!”

The word was pulled from her lips before she made a conscious decision. She was not surprised to see the surprise in Gastón’s eyes because she was caught off guard too. She began to backtrack rapidly.

“I mean… He’s a very sweet guy,” she said, because not saying it would be unfair. Just the fact that she’d denied him so adamantly made her feel mean. “We see each other every day and we talk. We’re kinda similar, we get along very well. And…” She doubted. She felt awkward telling him all this, but after everything Gastón had said to her, she had to be honest, she couldn’t act like there was nothing there. “…He likes me…”

She decided not to mention the kiss. It’d been a mistake and Eric had apologized. But by Gastón’s face, she might as well have.

He looked down, putting on a solemn mask. “…I understand.”

“No, you can’t understand,” Nina said immediately, and this time she meant the strength with which she spoke. She didn’t know where it came from but suddenly it was burning, and when he met her gaze this time, she looked at him straight on. “You can’t possibly understand because I don’t. Everyone’s telling me that I should give Eric a chance and, honestly, there are many reasons why I should, starting with the fact that he’s here and wants to be with me, but I can’t even think about being with Eric because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Now it was him that was rendered speechless. His eyes searched hers, a new light in them, and she’d already taken the jump, so she let the words fall whenever they led her.

“You may have gone very far away physically, but you stayed in my heart,” she confessed. The most real, hardest truth she’d ever had to admit. “And with it stayed the sadness, and this horrible feeling that I’m missing something…”

Gastón didn’t doubt this time— He took her hands in his.

“I feel the same,” he said with both relief and desperation. “I’ve been feeling the same way all these weeks, Nina. I miss you like I didn’t even think I could miss someone. I’ve been so angry at myself for letting you go when it was the last thing I wanted.” His right thumb ran over her knuckles and he followed the caress with his eyes. Nina felt it like a spark. “I know I have no right to ask you anything… But I just can’t go back without at least trying to get you back.”

“…But then… we’d be together but apart again?” She said, discouraged by that bleak future. They’d already been through that— Did he really want to go back to it?

“You were the one who said that I was never really gone,” he noted. “As long as we still have each other here…” He brought their joined hands to his chest. “…Isn’t that all that matters?”

She didn’t know if she could feel his heart against her fingers or if it seemed so because she could see it through his eyes. She was too overwhelmed. “Gastón—”

“Say yes, Nina.” He squeezed her hands. “Please.”

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to jump into his arms and hug him tightly. She wanted to believe that love conquered all and they would be okay.

But she had thought that once. She’d believed it with all her heart, all through that summer, only for him to put an end to the story she’d been trying to write.

She couldn’t just forget about all the nights she’d spent crying over him since then. Names in the sea or not, it had been the death of something and she’d mourned it. Her heart was just starting to heal a little and he wanted her to rip all the carefully placed stitches and re-open the wound once more?

What if it just bled out again? What if their love wasn’t enough?

“… I need to think about it.”

Gastón looked disheartened but nodded and let go of her hands, lowering them slowly. “Yeah, of course. I understand.” He tucked his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, like stopping himself from reaching for her once more. “I leave in three days. If you could tell me by then…”

Nina nodded, utterly unsure of how she was even gonna make heads of what she felt to come to an answer, but knowing that it was the least Gastón deserved, and she as well.

She either chose to give themselves another chance… or she closed this chapter forever.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy no matter which she chose.

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

Luna couldn’t understand what was happening.

She’d gone out for ice cream with Michel just like they’d promised. One second they were goofing around, laughing like always, and then the next, Michel was kissing her.

She froze, her brain scrambling to comprehend the situation. She hadn’t expected a kiss. She hadn’t given any sign for a kiss. He hadn’t just stumbled and fallen into her mouth, right? Nono, he was holding her face, and the way he was pressing against her lips was way too deliberate. Which meant it wasn��t a joke either, and even if it had been, it’d be a terrible one.

Finally, the repulsion she felt broke through the paralysis of confusion and she pulled away from Michel.

“What are you doing?” She asked, shaken up.

Michel was grinning. “I don’t know, I kissed you,” he said with a dreamy expression like something magical had just happened.

Meanwhile, it must have been one of the few times in her life Luna couldn’t see any good in a situation.

“Yeah, I realize that,” she replied, and she really couldn’t help the bite in her voice. “But, why? I mean, I didn’t— I never told you to kiss me!”

Michel’s shoulders deflated and his smile began to fade. “What are you saying? You didn’t like it?”

“Michel, how could I like it?” She honestly couldn’t believe he was even asking right now. Was he that detached from reality? In what world did he think this was okay? “We talked about this, didn’t we? Yesterday.”

“Yes, but,” he showed a tentative smile, “you said we are like birds of a feather and that you like hanging out with me…”

“Yeah, as friends,” she declared, keeping his gaze so he knew she was serious. A grimace wrinkled her face from all this situation. “God, Michel, you misunderstood everything, I thought we’d made things clear.”

Michel’s face finally lost all its light and became covered with remorse. “Luna, I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?”

“Why, I don’t know— Are we gonna talk and then you’ll try to kiss me tomorrow?!”

At seeing him wince in pain and regret, Luna’s outrage decreased somewhat; she didn’t want to be mean.

She closed her eyes, sighing heavily. “Look, Michel, I’m sorry, but this made me very uncomfortable and I need to go.”

She passed by his side and walked away, not looking back once, even when she heard him calling her name.

She wasn’t just shocked, she was hurting. She trusted Michel, she thought they were friends, she thought this outing had been as friends— Had he been just waiting for an opportunity to do this? Couldn’t he have at least leaned in slowly so she could move away instead of grabbing her face like that?

She rubbed her lips with the back of her hand as if that would somehow erase it. She knew it was just a kiss and she was probably exaggerating but… If she said she didn’t want something and then he just did it anyway, that was… that was just wrong.

She speed-walked to her house, wanting nothing more than to forget this happened.

A few meters away, a fresh bouquet of flowers laid discarded on the ground.

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

Ámbar felt the fresh air against her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, just taking in the feeling of her racing heart and the energy flowing through her muscles. She really had missed this.

She was standing by the lime green railing of the center of the park, her back and elbows resting on the metal as she took a break to refill her energy. She’d done pirouettes and jumps around this fenced circumference for a little over an hour, earning some appreciative stares from people passing by, which she enjoyed greatly. She loved feeling admired, especially because she loved what she did and knew how hard it’d been to reach this level. She remembered how her love for rollerskating had been born and wondered if any of the people who’d seen her today had left wanting to learn how to do the same. She hoped they tried it— It was a beautiful sport.

Eventually, she’d dropped the techniques and just skated around the park, looking at the scenery, at the sky, just letting her mind wander as the homely feeling of sliding on wheels lulled her accumulated stress away. When had been the last time she’d skated just for the sake of it, no choreographies or competitions in mind? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

A vibration on her jeans pocket made her open her eyes. Her heart jumped with excitement. She pulled out her phone and saw the contact she had been waiting for.

My love💙: All done, you can come back 👍

My love💙: Go directly to your room

Ámbar skated to a nearby bench to take off her helmet and change back into her boots. She wondered what Simón had planned. Maybe he’d cooked her something? She knew he and Pedro used to take care of cooking when they lived in the loft. Nico apparently couldn’t be trusted to make toasts without burning them. She wondered what kind of dishes Simón knew how to make. Maybe he could teach her some and she could make him pancakes. She was sure she could do it with some guidance from Mónica.

The idea made her smile as she made her way back to the mansion. She quickly wiped it off when she realized, showing a neutral face instead. Oh god, she’d just smiled to herself in the middle of the street. Was this what had become of her? Ámbar Smith, smiling in public like a love-struck fool. She blamed Simón.

She welcomed the heating system when she entered the mansion. She hadn’t realized how the early evening air had cooled her until she felt the contrast with indoors. Following Simón’s instruction, she rearranged her stuff in her hands and climbed up the staircase.

The minute she walked into her room, she stopped in her tracks.

“What the…”

Half her room had been invaded by bedsheets. From the foot of her bed to the back was some kind of tunnel made of different blankets, which didn’t reach higher than her waist. Some things from her shelves were on top of the ends of the blankets on each side; she gathered they worked as weights so the blankets didn’t fall off. The back of the tunnel opened into her closet. She could hardly see it— It was completely covered by bedsheets. It was like having a tent in her room.

At the front of the tunnel, she recognized the pink round ottoman she usually kept in her closet. It was standing on its side instead of the usual way, so it blocked the entrance to the archway of fabrics. Just then, she watched it slide to the right, leaned against her bedside. Behind it, crawling to fit under the blankets, appeared Simón, grinning from ear to ear.

“Surprise.”

Ámbar’s mouth was hanging open.

“I… What is all this?” She said with a stupefied smile.

“You said you’d never built blanket forts before, so I decided to make one for you,” he announced cheerily. “Come on in, check it out.” He crawled to the back. “Close in your way in!”

Still dumbfounded, Ámbar left her rollerskates and helmet on the floor next to her vanity. Usually, she’d put them back in their place first thing, but considering her closet was now a fort, that would have to wait.

She kicked off her boots and got on her knees to enter the tunnel. As she went inside, the construction became more evident: The blankets were hanging from her vanity’s chair, one of her sofa chairs and her desk on the left side, and from her bed, her second sofa chair and her pink bench on the right. She turned to put the ottoman back in its place and realized it basically worked as a sliding door. Wow, her boyfriend was so clever.

She crawled to the back, where Simón was waiting for her, sitting crossed-legged. The whole floor was covered in her dark grey carpet, and there were many pillows and blankets placed around. Bedsheet walls —there was no other way to describe it— flowed down at her right, left and in front of her closet’s shelves. Ámbar simply couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I asked Mónica to make us some snacks,” Simón said, still smiling, placing a small tray with food and drinks between them as she sat on his left. “I gathered you’d be hungry from skating. Oh! Wait, I forgot something.” He reached for an extension cord on his right and flicked the switch. Light shone all around them. “There you go.”

Ámbar looked around. Two garland lights had lit up, one on each side of them. She looked up, finding an arrangement of tiny golden lights illuminating the bedsheet ceiling. Were those Christmas lights? Where had he even gotten those?

The more she looked, the more details of his work she noticed. The bedsheet walls existed because he’d attached two parallel strings from the back of the closet to the front to hang them from. He’d taken care of hiding the cables of the lights so they wouldn’t disturb the space. There were at least three bedsheets, and she wasn’t even going to count the number of blankets he’d used in all of this.

She remembered his words that morning in the bathtub. “Don’t you feel like we’re in our own little world like this?”

It did feel like that. Like he had built a world just for her.

“Wow…”

“Do you like it?”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t tear her own from the splendor around her.

“It’s… perfect,” she said with some difficulty. Her throat had gotten tight. No one had ever put this much effort into doing something for her.

“I mean…” Simón relativized, looking around with a little grimace. “I did have to tape a lot of things together because they kept falling off…”

“Do not mess with my fort; it’s perfect,” she countered him strongly, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

Simón chuckled lightly. His eyes stared into hers, and he must have noticed the emotion in them because his expression softened. He didn’t comment on it, just handed her a snack from the tray with a gentle smile. “Let’s eat then.”

They shared the food in comfortable silence until conversation arose naturally. How had her skating gone, how he’d found Christmas lights. It didn’t go any deeper than that.

Once finished, Simón slid the tray outside of the bedsheet wall. “To make sure we don’t knock over anything. I’ll take it back later.”

Ámbar leaned on her hands to move closer to him and kissed him. She needed to do so for a while now. He tasted of the juice he’d just drunk. It stayed on her lips as she pulled away.

“So,” she said curiously, “what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Simón replied, and began to pile some pillows behind them, against the closet’s doors. “Usually when I did this I was with a friend or a cousin.”

Ámbar settled against the pillows as he did the same. “And what did you do with them?”

“We talked about kid stuff, like videogames or cartoons we were watching…”

“Uh huh…”

“Or we imagined that this was our secret base and we were professional spies, and we had to crack some code to get into the bad guys’ files or infiltrate their base to beat them.”

She gave him an appreciative look. “You’re saying I’m dating an ex-CIA agent? That’s hot.”

“Who said I ever retired?” He replied with a flirty brow lift.

Both chuckled. They shared a soft peck and Ámbar snuggled closer to him, circling her arms around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about you?” He asked, moving some strands of her hair back. She looked up at him. “What did you play with your friends?”

“We usually invented stories for the barbies.” She dug deep into her memories, bringing back those moments long past that she hadn’t thought of in years. “Like, there was Sofía, Nicole and Camila and they were best friends, and they did everything together, from shopping to saving the world…”

“That sounds very cool.”

“It was, until Camila found out that Nicole had hooked up with her boyfriend.”

His eyes widened. “Nooo.”

“Yes.”

“That bitch.”

“Right? How could she do that to her after she bought her tickets to Milan’s fashion week?”

“The audacity. I hope Camila put her in her place.”

“Hell yeah she did. We cut her hair and everything.”

Both laughed. The things one did as a kid.

“There was this other story,” she continued after a while, “in which the doll was in love with this guy that was about to fly to another country, so she had to run to the airport to catch him before he left to tell him she loved him, but the craziest things happened to her on the way there, making it suuuper difficult.”

“Did she ever catch him?”

Ámbar turned pensive.

“I wanna believe she did,” she responded. “That she told him she loved him, and he loved her too, and they lived happily ever after.” She looked up at Simón.

“Even with the distance?” He asked, caressing her arm softly.

“Well, no one says he could never come back,” she stated. “Or she could’ve gone to him. I’m sure they found a way.”

Simón smiled, looking into her eyes as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Their gazes stayed locked until the gravity pulled them in. Their mouths met for a long second, fitting perfectly against the other’s. The kiss turned into many— Soft, languid touches of their lips that felt better than even skating.

“Did you do this with your friends too?” She couldn’t help but quip.

Simón let out a laugh. “Definitely not.” And he went back to kissing her.

Ámbar felt light; lighter than she ever remembered being. Safe, calm, warm— Like wrapped in a blanket after having been cold. Simón was like that. Like the first sunny days after winter. Like a warm bath after a long day. Like sitting in front of the hearth after having been drenched in the rain. Little things that made everything better. He was made of them, and he took care of giving her each one.

He didn’t only help her find who she wanted to be, but he also allowed her to be the carefree little girl she never got to be. Simón gave her things she didn’t realize she needed until she lived them.

Ámbar pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes.

“My love?”

“Yes?”

She curled her fingers around his t-shirt, trying to find the words to express everything she felt.

“Really, thank you so much for this. It’s… the nicest thing someone has ever done for me and…” She swallowed. “I love you. So much. So much so that it kind of makes me wanna cry.” She chuckled weakly, a little strangled.

Simón’s eyes danced with hers, deep and soft and yet burning.

He smiled and held one of her hands. “Ámbar Smith… You are my heart. I swear if it beats it’s because of you. Why should you thank me for anything if thanks to you I’m alive?”

Ámbar’s throat got too tight to answer. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, like trying to go to him. All of her, from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet, yearned to cling to him.

She pulled his face to hers and joined their lips tightly.

Simón responded like he felt the same, with the same depth and intensity, but she doubted he could love her a third of how much she loved him.

They unclothed each other slowly, kissing reverently each extension of skin they uncovered. Under those sheets and golden lights, Ámbar felt like they were the only thing that existed. The universe started and ended with him— With each touch of his hands, each kiss from his lips.

The fur of the carpet was soft against her back as he slid inside of her. They gasped against each other’s mouths, a shared sound of rightness. Ámbar embraced him with her whole body and breathed in his scent as she followed the gentle rocking.

Simón left kisses on her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Ámbar dug her fingers into the softness of his hair and she stared at their fort. The lights above looked like stars. Her eyes absorbed each wrinkle, each mix of color, each scotch tape attached to a fabric. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would’ve changed all her wealth for having this. For having Simón. Always.

He was pushing deep between her legs, as if he too wanted to live inside her and never leave her side. He panted her name and she held him tighter, feeling how the sensations flooded her and stole her breath.

He touched her where they were joined, looked into her eyes, and then everything exploded, turning Ámbar into stardust.

She was barely corporeal as she felt Simón let go, dissolve in her with his breath against her neck.

A tear fell down her cheek.

Simón saw the wet trail when he straightened and, instantly, his face filled with worry. He opened his mouth and Ámbar could see the questions in his eyes. What happened? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?

But he didn’t voice any of them. Because he looked into her eyes and he understood. Just like that, he understood. Ámbar loved him even more for it.

Simón gave her a soft smile, with just the slightest speck of sadness, and kissed the salt off her skin. That was what he always did— Accept the fragile and unsure her, not just the laughs and her best moments.

She used to think she had to be perfect to be loved. He showed her that wasn’t needed.

Simón grabbed a blanket to cover them both and brought her to his chest. Ámbar pressed her forehead to his warm skin and closed her eyes.

“I wish we never had to leave this fort,” she said softly. “We could just stay here forever. Freeze time, right on this moment.”

Then she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. She wouldn’t have to keep secrets. She wouldn’t get scared every time she felt happy. They’d never have the chance to break each other’s hearts.

She felt the vibrations on his chest as Simón hummed.

“That would be nice…” He agreed, weakly gracing her shoulder with movements of his thumb. “But I’m more excited about all the new things I can still share with you.”

Her breathing stopped for a second. Ámbar looked up and found Simón smiling at her, that smile that was the sweetest she had ever known and sometimes wondered how her life had been before she saw it. His eyes were shining, full of possibilities.

Ámbar looked at him, and against all odds, she began to laugh.

“What?” Simón asked, but she just shook her head, looking away in disbelief.

How was it that he could brighten everything with just one phrase? One second to the other, just like that? It wasn’t fair. It almost made it seem like everything she’d been worrying about were just silly things. So not fair.

Ámbar sighed, and after a beat, brought her gaze back to him.

“Do you like pancakes?”

Simón frowned, clearly confused by the change of topic. “Yeah, why?”

Ámbar smiled and settled back with her head against his chest.

“No reason.”

…

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

(I had never written Gastina, so apology to the shippers if I didn’t get it right, but I believe it turned out pretty decent.)

Not a lot of plot advancement on this one, but I really wanted to give them, and you, this one sweet moment to hold onto. I've had the draft for this last scene since July 16th of *last year*, just so you get an idea of how long I have to wait to post the things I have in mind.

I really love this chapter, I hope you do too <3

I'll leave some reference pictures here. The first one is a drawing that I made. It was only meant for me to visualize the fort, so I apologize for the mess. If I had planned back then to share it with you guys, I would've made it prettier 😅

#simbar #simbar fic #simbar fanfiction #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross

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catching-kisses · 3 years

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But hey I’m having a baby! I thought I would come back on tumblr to document this pregnancy like I did Maddie’s 5 years ago. I found out on October 16 at 4 weeks exactly because I tested the day my period should have started. I was having those crampy feelings and knew there was a chance since I hadn’t taken birth control that cycle. I was shocked because it seriously took my ex and I soo many tries and this was just one time after being off birth control for not even a month while I waiting to get my next year’s prescription and I took a plan b I thought before I ovulated. I must have been wrong though. He was not shocked lol he got a girlfriend pregnant when he was 17 after just one month of them being together. We had talked about what we would do if this happened when we got together and had both agreed that an abortion would be best until we got to know each other, but after 6 months when things were a lot more serious with us we both knew we would want to keep the baby. That night we found out we talked a lot about everything and decided we were going to give us as a family a real shot. So now I’m 11 weeks and 2 days today. We got to see our baby on the 1st, their heartbeat was 172. Looks like I have possibly an anterior placenta this time and my symptoms have been different. I’m wayyyy more sick but not as tired. Right now I’m starting to feel a little better nausea-wise but I’m still sicker than I was with Maddie at the worst of it. I’m throwing up multiple times a day and when it was at its worst a couple weeks ago there were a couple days where I was completely sick from waking up to going to bed. I’m starting to show already and have been wearing maternity jeans since 8 or 9 weeks because of the bloating and my regular jeans were just too uncomfortable. I still fit in one pair but the other two I have to leave unbuttoned. Belly pictures are from 5 weeks, 8 weeks, 10 weeks, and 11 weeks. Our first prenatal appointment is on the 14th. I’m going to announce my pregnancy to the rest of the world this week. These next couple months are going to be hectic. We’re moving to a different city, Jordan’s mom is coming to visit, Jordan’s 30th birthday is next month and I want to do something special for him, and I’ll be finding Maddie a new preschool and possibly a new job for myself closer so I don’t have to commute. But I’m glad this is all happening now while I’m starting to feel better! It’s hard to believe how much can change in just a few years.

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years

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spun sugar (written for the ironstrange fanfic challenge)

Summary: He didn’t feel like going out, but he needed a distraction. Nothing would be able to take his mind off of the phone call he was waiting for, the call he knew would never come. Not even a double date to the carnival with Anthony, Hope, and Christine kept him focused today, and he was actually starting to need a distraction from his distraction.

a/n: just a heads up that this fic is on the heavier side of angsty so please be careful and safe! tw: for homophobia/mentioned use of slurs, outing, death (drowning), and family issues, and i think that’s it

Today felt like the world’s longest deja vu episode. It felt like standing in line at a carnival for hours, only to spin endlessly on one of those teacup rides. Everything was an unbreakable cycle of doubt, confusion, anger, and the old familiar self loathing. So for Stephen, it was just Thursday.

She didn’t forget.

She probably forgot!

She didn’t forget. She didn’t call on purpose.

She knows what today is.

She doesn’t want to talk to me.

I don’t want to talk to her either, and yet I still wish she’d call. Maybe then I could pretend that things are sort of okay.

Stephen sighed, completely tuning out his professor. He hadn’t been paying attention all class and wasn’t going to start now. There were more important things to be thinking about, like the nap he was going to take when he got home, or the fact that it was Victor’s birthday.

It was Victor’s birthday, and Stephen wanted to plan some sort of surprise call and later invite his brother to visit him in the city. Eugene immediately took to the idea and offered to help plan it and reach out to more of the family, but there was a catch. Of course Beverly had to be involved in some capacity. Even if she didn’t want to be associated with her older son, her younger one was near and dear to her heart and she wouldn’t hesitate to do anything for him. Except this, apparently, because that would involve speaking to Stephen. The med student didn’t expect to hear back from his mother and truthfully never expected a lot from her generally, but his hopes were still up.

Waste of time. She doesn’t need me.

She doesn’t even want me.

Stephen checked the time again. His lecture would be over in 15 minutes, and the next one started in half an hour. That gave him enough time to grab a coffee and call his dad on the walk across campus, and to make the time pass now he’d organize his inbox.

Most of his messages weren’t surprising (they were mainly just calendar invites and the occasional email from Anthony with an article Stephen might like) or even worth reading, but Stephen was a bit surprised when Eugene called him first. He had a solid relationship with his dad, but it was still unfamiliar for Stephen to have his family approach him first. Usually it went the other way around.

“I was just about to call you,” he said. “What’s going on? Mom never told me when the family call is”

“That’s the bad news,” Eugene replied. “Your mom changed the plan.”

“So she shut me out? Again? Is that what I’m supposed to understand?” Stephen asked, his voice cracking like the thinnest sheet of winter ice under heavy footfalls. “I didn’t do anything.”

Eugene sighed. “I’m sorry.” That was all the confirmation Stephen needed.

“What happened?” He asked. “She would do anything to make Victor happy, even if it means acknowledging me as part of the family.”

“Which you are,” Eugene argued.

“Not according to Mom, and you know that,” Stephen replied. “Please just tell me what happened, my next class starts soon.”

“Your aunt called to wish Victor a happy birthday and then was chatting with your mom about the family, as they do. I think she asked your mom how you were doing and how your love life in school was going, but at that point I wasn’t really listening. You know that your aunt is one of my few in-laws I actually tolerate, maybe even like, and today she proved exactly why. Claudia said something about you, and based on your mom’s reaction it wasn’t what she wanted to hear,” Eugene explained. “She knows you’re gay and is really happy for you, against your mom’s expectations and wishes that she’d be ashamed.”

“That was the first time they’ve talked about my sexuality, right? Because I never came out to her. I assume Maxwell brought it up for some reason because I came out to him years ago. Why he’d bring it up now, I don’t know,” Stephen replied.

“As far as I know, this is the first time Claudia brought it up. I assume if they’d talked about it before, your mother would’ve gotten angry or cut her off. She wasn’t happy today,” Eugene said bluntly. It wouldn’t do any good to sugarcoat the truth when Stephen already knew all of this.

“Great! Mom’s already mad enough at me for coming out and being proud of myself. I bet I ruined her relationship with Aunt Claudia because I blabbed and Maxwell clearly takes after Mom since he outed me for no reason!” Stephen snapped. He took a deep breath, his head spinning. “Sorry for yelling, Dad.”

“I don’t need you to apologize. You have every right to be hurt, for a lot of reasons,” Eugene said. “But to make a long story short, she told me flat out that she wouldn’t be talking to you today and then left for work at the same time she always does.”

“Can I talk to Victor at least? I don’t care if she doesn’t want to talk to me, but I can’t ignore him,” Stephen pleaded. “I can’t not be there for him on his birthday, that’s cruel!”

“I know you want to be there for your brother, it’s okay. That’s the good news and why I called you. Give me a minute,” Eugene replied.

Stephen mumbled some kind of response, slowly but impatiently shifting his weight from side to side. He was thinking about blowing off the rest of his classes for the day, emotional exhaustion overtaking him. He could usually power through things like this, as he was used to his mother steadfastly refusing to accept him. Today she and her hatred actively prevented Stephen from wishing his little brother a happy birthday, and that was too damn much. The fact that his cousin suddenly outed him almost three years after Stephen came out was only making him angrier. Stephen always tried to do the best that he could for his family, especially his younger sibling(s), and was even more protective of Victor in the wake of Donna’s death. All he wanted was to look after everyone he cared about, and his sexuality didn’t negatively affect his protective oldest child instincts. If anything it made them stronger because Stephen always wanted to be an ally for his siblings. He would always stand up for them when they needed.

Sometimes he felt like he failed Donna, despite his best efforts to keep her safe and make her happy. Stephen couldn’t fail Victor and let their mother’s actions come between them. He wouldn’t. He looked at his phone to distract himself, editing his coffee order to include a latte for Anthony. He was usually home around this time and would more than likely appreciate the surprise coffee.

Thinking of his boyfriend, the love of his life and his person, made Stephen smile just enough to prevent him from sobbing in the middle of Starbucks.

Two (2) minutes that felt like an eternity later, Victor came to the phone. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday Vic!” Stephen forced a smile, hoping some cheer could be detected in his voice.

“Thank you,” Victor replied with an emotion that Stephen couldn’t place.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there today or join the family call. I wanted to be part of the call at least, but…”

“It’s okay. I know you care, and I know you wouldn’t forget my birthday just because you’re busy.”

“Right… busy!” Stephen’s laugh was forced. “I would never miss your birthday, and not just because I have a flawless memory.”

“I was just starting to miss you until you said that. Damn shame.”

“Not only is today your birthday, it’s apparently also the start of you acting like the smartass you‘ve grown up to be,” Stephen quipped. Eugene’s noisy laughter could be heard even over the phone.

“I didn’t come into this world as a smartass like you. I had to learn from you, unfortunately,” Victor replied. “And I’m glad to see you’re amused, Dad!”

“I taught you everything I know, and this is how you thank me?” Stephen asked.

The barista called out Stephen’s order.

“Hey I have to get going, but you and Dad should come visit me in New York sometime soon,” Stephen offered.

“That sounds nice, but you can also just call me. Contrary to popular belief I do want to talk to you on days that aren’t holidays,” Victor replied. “But New York sounds fun.”

I wish we could talk whenever, like we used to when I was welcome under her roof.

“I want to go to the city, I’m sick of the neighbors,” Eugene added. “We’ll have to plan a trip, but for now we’ll let you get ready for class.”

“Thanks Dad. Love you both, and I hope you have a great birthday, Vic!” Stephen hung up before they could reply, grabbed his coffees, and dragged his feet the rest of the way home.

++++

Anthony was in the kitchen, serenely flipping through a magazine and eating lunch when Stephen trudged in. He paid no mind to the door opening at first, dipping his grilled cheese into the steaming cup of soup beside him and continuing to peruse the pages.

Stephen smiled fondly at the sight of him, the tiniest bit of joy finding its way to his heart.

“I got you a latte,” Stephen said, setting both drinks on the counter.

Anthony gasped, curiously ignoring the coffee completely and standing up to hug Stephen. “Thank you cuore mio.”

“I figured I’d surprise you since I’m home early,” Stephen replied. He relaxed into the hug, slouching in Anthony’s arms.

“I appreciate that, but I’m much happier to see you. We both left at weird times this morning so we didn’t get to talk and get ready for the day together like we usually do,” Anthony said, a little pout on his face.

“Well we’re both home now, and I’m really tired.” Stephen was beyond tired and beyond annoyed, swaying a bit in Anthony’s arms.

Anthony hugged him closer and tighter to steady him. “Let’s go sit. Did you have lunch?”

“No, I just got coffee and came right home,” Stephen replied.

Anthony handed over the other half of his sandwich. “Take this then, I just made it. There’s tomato soup too, since Bucky made me go to Panera with him earlier.”

Stephen was about to object, stopping himself only when he saw the mirthful light in Anthony’s eyes. “What?”

“I mean I don’t mind either way, but I’m giving this to you so you don’t swipe it from me like the mischievous, overgrown British shorthair you are,” Anthony teased. “You’re not subtle.”

“If I was a cat, we both know I’d be a calico,” Stephen replied.

“I disagree. What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon?” Anthony asked.

Stephen shrugged. “I kind of want to nap. Preferably with you, under a blanket, and in front of the fireplace.”

“That sounds nice,” Anthony murmured, reaching up to softly caress Stephen’s cheek. “Let’s go, then.”

As soon as they were settled, Stephen rested his head on Anthony’s shoulder and practically melted into his side.

They made idle chatter and finished their lunch, Stephen glancing at his phone every now and then.

It’s stupid to hope something will change.

He knew his mom wasn’t going to call him, and that still stung no matter how much he tried to move past it. Stephen also knew she wouldn’t ever accept him again, and she’d continue to use his identity against the rest of the family who he loved and who loved him in return. Be it immediate family or the most distant relatives, Beverly was determined to exile him completely, erasing her oldest son from the family story.

Victor probably suffered the most from this, aside from obviously Stephen himself. Contrary to what their mother thought, Victor deserved to talk to whoever he wanted on his birthday, including Stephen. Being the middle child, Victor was the link between cautious Stephen and carefree Donna. The three siblings were incredibly close growing up, and their sister’s death took as much of a toll on Victor as it did on Stephen. Stephen almost left home for good a few days after Donna’s funeral, almost leaving his little brother behind. It was impossible to forget anything about that day.

Stephen knocked on his brother’s door.

“It’s open!” Victor was sitting on the floor building a Lego castle.

Stephen sat on the floor across from him. “This looks really good, Vic!”

“Do you want to help me finish it?” Victor asked.

“I can’t today. I actually came in to tell you that I might be leaving home for a little bit,” Stephen replied. He rested his head on one of his hands.

“When do you leave?” Victor asked, still not looking at him.

“Tonight or early tomorrow. I’m going to New York to help Anthony move,” Stephen said, making up a reason as he finished answering. It was true that he was going to New York to see Anthony, but he couldn’t tell Victor the real reason why. He’d already been through enough the past few days, he didn’t need to know that Stephen and Beverly weren’t on speaking terms as of today. He didn’t need to know that their mother was trying to kick Stephen out.

Victor just sat quietly and nodded, not registering his brother’s distress. “So you have time to help me build then. Can you hand me that brick, please?”

Stephen smiled sadly and obliged.

They were quiet, just working together like nothing was wrong until an overwhelming clamor filled the farmhouse.

“Dad’s home,” Stephen remarked.

“Are he and mom arguing?” Victor asked. “Why?”

Stephen knew why, but he held his tongue and just shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

Victor nodded and went back to building. “Make sure you follow the directions, I want this to be perfect.”

They continued to work diligently, not saying much to each other but listening to the argument from the kitchen. It wasn’t easy to make out what Mr. and Mrs. Strange were saying, but their mutual anger hung in the air long after the conversation ended. The whole house felt different, its welcoming energy replaced with something sinister.

And then someone knocked on the door. “Boys?”

“Hi Dad!” Victor said. “You can come in, Stephen is helping me build the castle set that you gave me!”

Eugene walked in, standing in the doorway and watching his sons work for a minute. “Stephen, can I talk with you for a minute? Sorry to tear you away from your building, but you can finish up later. I also brought home dinner. Victor, go eat with Mom before it gets cold.”

“Cool, thanks Dad!” Victor stepped cautiously over his castle and headed downstairs.

Stephen was still on the floor, Eugene sitting at Victor’s desk. He didn’t know what this conversation was going to be like, and fear made him snatch the first words without giving them much thought.“Dad, I fucked up.”

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t see it that way,” Eugene said.

Stephen had been staring at the carpet until then, looking sharply up at his father. “What?”

“I said I don’t see it that way. You didn’t mess up,” Eugene repeated himself.

“Mom wants me to go,” Stephen mumbled. He hung his head again, looking at the carpet. Victor’s room was the only carpeted one in the house, and no one knew why.

“Your mother also wants me to stop leaving my computer in the dining room since that’s apparently ‘her space,’ but last I checked this is our home and she doesn’t have a monopoly on that room,” Eugene replied.

Stephen was quiet for a minute. “She says it’s not my home. Not anymore, anyway.”

“That’s what we were arguing about,” Eugene said. “I came home from work and she told me what you talked about and how she felt. I don’t agree with her.”

“I wanted to tell you myself,” Stephen muttered. “She had no right to tell you, that’s not what you’re supposed to do!”

Eugene didn’t say anything, unsure of what he could say to make this better.

“I didn’t time this well, I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve given Mom more time to process losing Donna, and—”

“Stephen, I think your mother would’ve responded the same way if your sister was here. It’s nothing to do with the circumstances and everything to do with her,” Eugene said.

Stephen nodded slowly. “Are you upset with me Dad?”

“No I’m not, and I don’t think you should go,” Eugene replied.

“I probably should, for a few days,” Stephen said. “Anthony’s in New York, and I know I just saw him but I wanted to go visit again before he leaves for boarding school.”

Eugene nodded. “As long as you’re back at least a day before your school year starts.”

“Mom isn’t going to want me to come back, but I don’t want to leave Victor! I can’t abandon him!” Stephen said.

Eugene shook his head. “It’s not up to her. You’re our son, mine and hers equally, and I want you to be home with us while you finish high school. Besides, you and Victor need each other especially now. Your mom isn’t the only one who decides what family means. You are both our sons, and though our family might be a little smaller, we’re still family.” Eugene grabbed a box of tissues from Victor’s desk, handing them to Stephen as he began to cry.

“Thanks Dad.”

“It’s going to be okay. What day are you planning on going to New York?”

“I booked a flight for early tomorrow morning, Ant said anytime in the afternoon he’d be around.”

“And are you going to finally stop pining for each other and tell him how you feel while you’re there?”

“Dad!” Stephen hesitated before continuing. This was unfamiliar territory, discussing his love life with his father. Eugene knew Anthony and could obviously tell how Stephen felt, but it was weird to talk about this. Still, curiosity got the better of him. “Do you think I should?”

To make a long story short, that’s how they ended up here, in the apartment they shared with three of their friends while Anthony repeatedly nudged Stephen with his elbow.

“What do you want?” Stephen muttered, failing to even pretend like he was annoyed.

“Scoot over so I can go to the kitchen!” Anthony said, the slightest hint of a whine in his voice.

Stephen shifted and grumbled a little protest as he stood up.

Anthony smiled and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll be right back, then you can cling to me as much as you want.”

Stephen sighed, half in teasing exasperation, and looked at his phone again. He was staring daggers at it when Anthony returned, letting it go when he was pulled into a hug.

“Did you hear back from her yet? What time is the call?” Anthony asked gently, beginning to stroke Stephen’s hair.

“She hasn’t called yet.” That wasn’t a lie, but Stephen was too upset to give Anthony more details right now.

Anthony hummed, kissing his head again. “She will.”

“I don’t— yeah. She will,” Stephen mumbled. Also not a lie, as he was still clinging to the thinnest shred of hope that his mom would change her mind.

She won’t.

It doesn’t matter how much she loves Victor and values his happiness, I’m dead to her and that’s final.

“How was your day?” Stephen asked, eager if not desperate to change the subject. “Did you present the business plan you were telling me about? How did it go?”

“I did! Honestly it went really well, I wasn’t nervous like I usually am,” Anthony replied.

Stephen yawned. “I’m so happy for you. Every time you practiced presenting it to me, you were amazing.” He was physically and mentally weary, exhaustion dragging him into a midnight blue haze, but he was never too tired to give Anthony the praise he deserved.

“Thank you,” Anthony murmured. His eyes were closed, but Stephen could practically hear Anthony’s soft smile.

“I mean it,” Stephen said. “Love you.”

He was surrendering to the exhaustion, to the warmth of the fire and the blanket and Anthony’s embrace. Sometimes knowing that Anthony loved him and feeling the manifestations of his love made Stephen feel a little better. This was reprieve, and he was going to revel in it until reality came back to kick his ass.

Anthony still sounded like he was smiling. “I love you too. Get some rest sleepyhead.”

++++

Anthony woke up first, his phone ringing loudly from the carpet below. He was going to just ignore it, mistaking the notification for an alarm, until he came to his senses a little more and realized Christine was calling.

“Your boyfriend is bad at answering his phone,” she’d said.

“Hello to you too, Christine. He’s sleeping,” Anthony replied. “We both were, actually.”

“So sorry to have interrupted your mid afternoon nap,” Christine drawled. “But I’m glad you were resting. Stephen seemed really off today during class, and as much as I hate to admit it I was a bit worried.”

“You’re too much of a helicopter parent friend to pretend like you’re not concerned,” Anthony said. “I can see right through that.”

Christine just laughed. “Anyway, I know you could talk about Stephen for probably years but I called for a reason.”

“What’s up?” Anthony asked. Stephen was still asleep in his arms, and Anthony tried his best not to disturb him. “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah I’m fine! I was just gonna ask if you two wanted to go on a double date with me and Hope later? It’s the first night of the carnival,” Christine said. “Sam and Bucky aren’t planning on going until tomorrow because they’re boring, and we want an adventure.”

“Going out on a Thursday night counts as an adventure?” Anthony asked.

“Why wouldn’t it?!” Christine protested. “Let me know what you decide to do and just text me or Hope, we can plan to meet up later. I take it Stephen isn’t going to class but I am, so I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sounds good, bye Christine!” Anthony rolled his eyes in amusement, opening a game on his phone and holding Stephen closer.

It wasn’t more than twenty minutes later when he woke up, checking his phone and trying to hide his disappointment when his mom didn’t call.

What did I expect? She made up her mind.

She doesn’t want to talk to me.

Why am I pretending she cares, hoping she’ll call?

Stephen huffed out a sigh, more angry with himself than anything else.

“Nothing yet?” Anthony asked gently.

“No,” Stephen replied. He felt anger boiling in his system, unease taking over as he continued to lie and hope that something would change.

“I’m sorry,” Anthony said. “The day is still young.”

“I guess that’s true.” Stephen didn’t know if going along with what Anthony said was helping or hurting at this point. “I have a ton of missed calls from Christine though.”

“Oh yeah, she invited us on a double date with her and Hope since it’s the first night of the carnival,” Anthony replied. “You in?”

“Not really.” Stephen answered without even giving it much thought.

“Okay.” Anthony was always so amenable, sensitive, and empathetic, even at the expense of what he wanted. Sometimes Stephen’s heart ached at how selfless Anthony was and how much he cared for people. It was a privilege to be someone Anthony loved, but Stephen had to remind him constantly that relationships were a give and take. He didn’t want to drain Anthony’s kindness, not the way people in his past did. He wanted and tried to be as giving and loving to Anthony as Anthony was to him.

He didn’t even sound upset about not going out, but Stephen’s anxiety kicked in and convinced him otherwise. “Well wait Ant, what do you want to do?”

“It might be fun, but—”

“Why not go, then?”

Anthony was stunned by how fast Stephen changed his mind, trying to read his face for things his words left unsaid. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine… just a little jittery waiting for this stupid call. A distraction might help, and you’re right! It probably will be fun. Plus I don’t want to selfishly keep you from being out with friends, that’s not fair to you.”

“Nope, you stop that right now,” Anthony admonished gently. “If I wanted to go with our friends, I would. I want to spend time with you tonight, whatever that looks like, and we’re both allowed to want things. They don’t have to be the same thing, and you’re not selfish or controlling for disagreeing with me. Believe me?”

“I wish I could, because I know you mean it. I just feel like a failure since I can’t be there for Victor the way I want,” Stephen replied. “And I know it’s not my fault, but…”

“But it still hurts.” Anthony gently cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him. “Right?”

Stephen nodded, whispering a pained “yes,” into the kiss. It hurt more than Anthony knew, more than he was ready to discuss.

“You’re not a failure. You’re just trying to make everyone happy even when the most fucked up circumstances get in the way. It’s not a bad thing to prioritize yourself, and in fact it’s a good thing to give yourself the kindness you give to others. You have to,” Anthony said, protectively wrapping his arms around Stephen.

“I’m glad you listen to my advice enough to repeat it back to me, at the very least,” Stephen quipped.

“Yeah yeah, I know I sound like a hypocrite since I—”

“Since you’re not nice to yourself, even though you deserve to be,” Stephen finished his sentence. “I just want to be able to make someone happy today. I want to make you happy.”

Anthony smiled sadly and kissed him again. “I love you so much, you idiot. You always make me happy, and I’m always here for you.”

“I know you are. I love you too,” Stephen replied. “A distraction honestly might help me deal with the waiting game, though.”

“It could!” Anthony nodded, playfully adding, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Stephen played along.

“We can start by getting your favorite sushi,” Anthony offered.

Stephen genuinely smiled at that, attempting to hide it by burying his head in Anthony’s shoulder. “Really?”

“Why not?” Anthony replied. “It’s been awhile since we went to that restaurant anyway.”

“It’s been too long,” Stephen corrected him. “I’m not sure if I’m feeling up to being out for dinner and then going out later, though. I feel bad because you’re trying so hard to plan something fun, and—”

“You don’t have to feel bad. It’s not a problem, we can just order in and stay home until later. That’s what I was planning anyway,” Anthony said. “And if you don’t feel like going out tonight, we really don’t have to.”

“I want to, but I also don’t,” Stephen said. “You know what I mean?”

Anthony nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’m fine with whatever though, it’s up to you.”

“Let’s go then. I’m still kind of on the fence, but I’m leaning towards yes.”

++++

He was just being himself, but Anthony was making good on his little teasing promise to make the fair worth Stephen’s while. He had some magical effect where his smile made anyone’s heart sing, and his spell was especially powerful on Stephen. He was truly having fun, for the most part. His motion sickness didn’t flare up at any point, which meant he could spin a bit faster than normal on the teacups ride. It was exhilarating and just dizzying enough that he leaned slightly into Anthony’s shoulder while the group decided what to do next. Stephen found he was oddly at peace with himself and the evening, probably because of Anthony’s spell.

“Okay, here’s what I want to know: what the hell is a hall of mirrors?” Anthony asked.

“How do you not know?” Christine replied, her eyebrows racing up towards her hairline.

“Never in my life have I been exposed to anything that would entail being in a hall of mirrors,” Anthony muttered.

“Surely you’ve been to a carnival before, right?” Hope asked.

“Yes, and amusement parks! But again, I have no idea what it actually is,” Anthony said. “I’ve never seen one until right now.”

“It’s just as it sounds, Ant. It’s a room full of mirrors, almost like a maze I think, and some of the mirrors are distorted. It’s hard to explain without seeing it, but it’s kind of funny,” Stephen replied. “You’re the only person in life who ever gives me an answer,” Anthony half-joked, linking arms with Stephen. “The only person.”

“Rude, didn’t I just tell you the other day about—”

“Hope I love you but I made my point very clear,” Anthony teased. “I need to see these mirrors.”

Stephen smiled. Anthony was so full of an almost childlike wonder, he was kind of like the human equivalent of a ferris wheel… somehow… the comparison made more sense in his head. “This is going to be adorable.”

“Can we go?” Anthony was almost bubbly with excitement.

Stephen couldn’t say no to him, and right now he didn’t want to. “Yeah, come on.”

“It’s this way, let’s go!” Christine pointed vaguely to her left and led the way.

Stephen didn’t know what Anthony expected to see in a room that was literally just Full Of Mirrors, but his every reaction to it was more endearing than the last.

“Could you imagine decorating an entire house like this?” He asked, looking around the room.

“You mean you haven’t?” Christine teased.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “I can barely stand to look at myself for five minutes, this is like hell on earth. Don’t give Ant any ideas about redecorating our apartment, Christine.”

“She doesn’t need to, I wouldn’t do it,” Anthony replied. “Even I don’t need to see this much of myself.”

Christine laughed at their antics before chasing after Hope and giving them a moment alone. There weren’t many other people around, so Stephen had an unobstructed view of several of his reflections checking their phones.

Anthony was still standing beside him, taking everything in. “You okay?”

Stephen (and all of his clones) nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Still no updates though.”

I can’t even be honest with him. I can barely be honest with myself at this point.

“I’m sorry Steph.”

“It’s okay! I’m probably more anxious than I need to be, it’s really fine.”

Anthony frowned slightly but didn’t push him. “I feel like there should be at least one control variable, just a basic full body mirror at the beginning and/or end of these things.”

“There usually is at the end,” Stephen replied. “At least I think. It’s like when you leave home and take another glance at yourself to make sure you look decent. You’re the one who can, and you do, spend five minutes in front of any mirror, so—”

“That’s absolutely not true and you know it. The longest I’ve looked at myself in the front hallway mirror specifically is three minutes tops”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, babe.”

They continued their walk around the winding hallways, coming to a stop at a standard mirror just in front of the exits.

Christine and Hope were chattering outside, looking at a map of the fairground that they’d found somewhere (Stephen hadn’t a clue where, seeing as he wasn’t paying attention at the time).

“We look cute,” Anthony remarked.

“You do, I don’t,” Stephen said.

“No, we both do!” Anthony’s stubbornness was coming out to play, it seemed. “I mean I know you only keep me around because I’m adorable, but I’m probably the luckiest guy in the world to be yours.”

Stephen blushed and looked at his shoes. “Yeah, I’m only with you because you’re hot and not at all because you’re my best friend who I happen to be madly in love with.”

“Aww.” Anthony smiled and squeezed Stephen’s hand, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, you asshole.”

Stephen looked up, staring at their reflections and different expressions. His smile was tired and clearly forced, while Anthony’s was genuine and bright. He couldn’t help but sigh, disappointed in himself for not matching his boyfriend’s energy.

“You sure you’re okay?” Anthony asked.

“I’m trying to be,” Stephen replied. “That’s the best answer I have, and it may not seem like I’m trying very hard, but I am.”

“I know. Stress and anxiety don’t just go away when you ignore them, unfortunately,” Anthony reminded him. “Attention whores that they are.”

Stephen laughed, surprised as always by Anthony’s sudden dry delivery and humor. “I feel like you’re what ‘sugar and spice and everything nice’ means, you can go from sweet and calming to making me laugh within the same breath.” He shuffled forward a bit, dropping his head on Anthony’s shoulder.

“Well I don’t like the implication that I’m nice,” Anthony huffed jokingly.

“I didn’t really imply it, I’m telling you that you’re nice,” Stephen replied.

Anthony just rolled his eyes. “That’s your opinion.”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, you know I don’t like lying,” Stephen said.

Except for the fact that I’m so in denial about Mom not calling that I actually am lying to Anthony. He doesn’t deserve that.

Anthony just shrugged as Stephen looked up at him again. “So when you said that I’m not good at carnival games, that was—”

“That was me trying to encourage you, and while you clearly needed it I don’t think it helped,” Stephen quipped.

“Rude but true. At least there weren’t a lot of people—”

“Move!” A boisterous group of children who couldn’t be older than 13 ran past, shoving past them on their way to the door.

Stephen stumbled and fell back against Anthony, which caused one of the group to say something particularly rude.

Anthony glared at the instigator. “What?”

“Don’t, it’s not worth it,” Stephen said.

The same kid laughed, having the audacity to repeat himself before catching up with the rest of the bullies.

“I don’t know where someone who looks like they’re barely eleven years old learns to talk like that, but they can fuck right off,” Anthony said.

“You’re right. Honestly I would be more upset if worse things hadn’t happened today, but it’s all relative,” Stephen replied. “I’ll tell you about it later, we should go find Hope and Christine.”

Anthony nodded, a scowl still on his face when they found and rejoined their friends.

“Are you self-obsessed idiots done looking at yourselves?” Christine teased.

“You literally heard me say I can’t stand looking at my reflection for more than five minutes. We were just talking,” Stephen said.

“Why do people have to be so goddamn ignorant?” Anthony muttered, kicking the dirt in front of him.

“What happened?” Hope asked.

“Really nothing, just some middle schoolers being stupid,” Stephen replied. “It’s not a big deal. What are we thinking about doing now?”

“I want a snack, I think,” Christine said. “Does anyone want cotton candy?”

“We should get cotton candy!”

Donna had boundless energy, a zest for life, and a fun-loving mischief about her. She ran into each day like it was a new adventure, sometimes reckless but always under the protective watch of her brothers.

“If that’s what you want, Donna, I’ll buy you some.”

“What about me?”

Victor didn’t come into the world with a smartass attitude, but he quickly adopted some of Stephen’s mannerisms. He learned how to assert himself and how to be fair, which meant he knew when and how to argue on his own behalf.

“Of course Vic, I’ll get you some too.”

“I want the bubblegum flavor!”

It was the end of summer, and the Strange family was spending an afternoon at the zoo. Donna loved animals more than almost anything in the world, and all she’d wanted was to spend the day with her family sharing random animal facts and learning as much as she could. Stephen was the one to plan the excursion, the trip occurring the day after he returned from California. He was visiting Anthony for just under two (2) weeks then, that summer their last as ‘just friends.’

Donna was elated when Stephen came home, her little face lighting up when he announced the family outing.

Outing was an interesting choice of words.

That day trip was the last time the Strange family was whole. That day was the last day Stephen was worth something in his mom’s eyes, the last time he read his sister a bedtime story after pretending that he didn’t want to. All Stephen did was plan a surprise afternoon for Donna and buy her cotton candy, and she was the happiest he’d ever seen her. It was, in the most tragic sense, the perfect last day. She drowned in the lake the next morning, and Stephen felt like he lost control of his life. Desperate to take it back, and against his better judgement, he came out a few days later. He hoped his mom would be supportive, understanding, and maybe even encouraging, but he was as good as disowned by her that day.

“Hey… Earth to Steph.” Anthony softly caressed his face. “Stephen?”

He snapped out of his flashback, probably looking like a deer in the headlights when his eyes met Anthony’s. “Sorry.”

“I thought you were gonna pass out for a minute,” Anthony said.

“I’m good. I just zoned out,” Stephen replied. “It’s not even motion sickness, I genuinely stopped listening to whatever you guys were talking about.”

“So you didn’t hear me ask if any of you wanted cotton candy?” Christine asked.

“That I did hear.” Stephen heard the sudden brittleness in his voice and steeled himself, subconsciously reaching for Anthony’s hand.

“I forgot you don’t like sweets that much, sorry man,” Christine replied.

“That isn’t the problem,” Stephen said. “And that’s not even true.”

Christine just shrugged. “Alright.”

Stephen sighed, ignoring the confused look Christine gave him and running his free hand through his hair. He sighed again. “Sorry Christine.”

“You’re forgiven, Stephen. It’s fine, and sometimes you just have a bad day,” Christine replied. “It’s not like I’ve never gone off on you before.”

“I wouldn’t call that going off, I’ve used all of my self restraint today,” Stephen said. “But thanks.”

He sighed for the third time and leaned against Anthony’s shoulder.

“You okay?” Anthony asked gently.

Stephen looked at his phone again. “Still no updates.”

Anthony frowned, concern and understanding written all over his face. “That’s shitty.”

“You’re right about that,” Stephen replied, laughing despite himself at how direct Anthony’s delivery was. “Rollercoaster?”

“Damnit, I thought I was enough of a thrill for you,” Anthony teased.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “You are, you dumbass. I just thought it’d be fun.”

“I’m not disagreeing! I’m in,” Anthony replied.

“The line isn’t too long, y’all should go now,” Hope said. “We’re getting popcorn, and then we can ride the teacups again before leaving if you guys want?”

“Sure,” Anthony said.

Stephen just nodded. He’d had a good time, but honestly just wanted to go home and pretend like today didn’t happen.

“We can hold your shit too, if you want,” Christine offered.

“Thank you for not bringing up the Great Adventure mishap,” Anthony replied, handing Christine his bag.

“Not sure if I’d call forgetting to take off your sunglasses a mishap,” Stephen quipped, also handing over his bag.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll have called by the time we’re back.

If I asked a magic 8 ball what the chances were of that happening, I think it’d tell me to go fuck myself.

“What would you call it, then?” Anthony asked indignantly.

“Unfortunate, and a consequence of you not listening to me when I said not to wear them,” Stephen replied.

“You’re both wrong, that’s just Ant’s smooth brain energy hard at work,” Hope said.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry that wearing sunglasses is such a big part of my personal brand! Whatever, see you two in a bit!”

Hope and Christine probably rolled their eyes as Stephen and Anthony went on their way, but all in good fun.

Stephen was starting to feel a little better while they queued for the rollercoaster. He’d always liked them and they never made him dizzy which really helped. Coasters were sort of like a spontaneous thought process in his mind. There were digressions, breakthroughs and thoughts that were best left alone, and something to look forward to at every corner. Stephen felt like there was less time for self loathing on a rollercoaster, less time to hone in on certain things while he was moving so fast. He definitely preferred rollercoasters to tilt-a-whirl type things, even though he didn’t hate the spinning teacup ride they ended the night with. There was just more sitting still involved somehow, which meant more opportunities for self loathing. The pattern of the ride mirrored the circular thought process he slipped into, almost like he was cycling through stages of grief. Stephen wasn’t sure if he was angrier with Beverly for how she treated him or with himself for hoping she’d call, and he hadn’t even made it out of the denial stage. To his expected disappointment, there were no calls from his mom when he checked his phone on the ride home.

I don’t know what I expected.

I keep telling myself that I’m dead to her and it doesn’t seem to sink in.

I know it’s true, and all of this might hurt less if I just accept that.

Christine and Hope were bickering about something in the front of their car, and Stephen didn’t have a clue what it was. He’d tuned them out again, despondently resting his head on Anthony’s shoulder as Christine navigated the traffic.

“Ant?” Stephen’s voice was hushed and straining as he tried not to cry.

Anthony hummed. “That’s me.”

Stephen smiled sadly. “She’s not going to call, Anthony.”

“The night is still—”

“No! No, I mean she’s… I’ll tell you when we get home.” Stephen was trembling now, overwhelmed with everything that he was feeling.

“Okay,” Anthony murmured, softly kissing his head. His heart broke as Stephen started crying into his shoulder. “I love you.”

Stephen barely fought back a sob. Sometimes he needed reminders that people loved and cared about him, but he was always ashamed to ask. He was getting slowly better at asking for affection, but verbal reassurance was a completely separate beast. When it came to dealing with his mother, he needed to hear that he was loved and valued for who he was to try and combat the self loathing that followed their conversations. He needed help getting his confidence and self assurance back. He didn’t like to be so vulnerable, but Stephen couldn’t deny that sometimes he just wanted to feel loved and safe. Anthony, affectionate and protective and caring and sweet, always knew when Stephen needed these loving affirmations and always provided them. “I love you too.”

“It’s okay. We’ll be home soon, mia vita,” Anthony soothed. He reached for one of Stephen’s hands, holding it in both of his own. “Ti amo con tutto ciò che sono e con tutto ciò che sarò.”

He loves me…

++++

There was always something sweet about coming home to a loud house. The noise could be jarring, a pleasant consequence of 5 relatively loud friends living together, but it served as a welcoming of sorts. Today it was even louder when Stephen and Anthony got home, thanks mostly to an argument between Sam and Wong. Standing between them, Bruce was acting like a moderator of sorts.

“The lovebirds are back!” Wong announced, interrupting what looked like a heated rebuttal from Sam. “How was the carnival?”

“It was good! I tried to win one of those balloon dart games,” Anthony replied.

“Keyword is ‘tried,’ guys,” Stephen added.

“I was too busy thinking about what prize to win since I wanted to give Steph something cute, but it didn’t really go to plan,” Anthony said.

“Next time babe, I believe in you!” Stephen cheered as brightly as he could. He was tired of faking a smile, tired of hoping his mom would come around.

She’s never going to change her mind.

“Maybe we should’ve gone tonight, I feel like it’s going to be more crowded tomorrow,” Sam said.

“I think it depends on when you go,” Anthony replied. “Speaking of going places, you know your man dragged me to Panera with him earlier.”

“I told you! Nothing comes between Bucky and a bread bowl,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “What time do you think is the best to go tomorrow night?”

Stephen shrugged. “Probably 8? I don’t know. Most of the lines move relatively fast so you should be fine.”

“Don’t worry Sam, if the grumpiest boy on the Eastern seaboard says you’ll be fine, you’ll definitely be good,” Wong teased.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Stephen turned on his heel and left, retreating to the comfort of his bedroom.

“Did I upset him?” Wong asked, mostly addressing Anthony. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Something is bothering him,” Anthony replied. It wasn’t his business to go into detail, nor was he the gatekeeper of what problems Stephen chose to share with their friends. “He should be okay, but I’m gonna go keep him company.”

Anthony headed for his bedroom, bringing the conversation to a halt. Stephen had closed the door, which wasn’t unusual but Anthony still didn’t want to just open it in case Stephen wanted to be completely alone.

He knocked quietly yet audibly to avoid startling Stephen. “Hey, it’s just me. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Stephen mumbled. He was curled up on their bed, trembling as he looked up at the ceiling.

It was warm in their room as per usual, so Anthony knew Stephen wasn’t shivering from cold.

Stephen felt the bed dip as his boyfriend sat beside him, and he closed his eyes as Anthony began to gently massage his scalp.

“Wong and Christine are probably angry with me,” Stephen said after a while.

“Wong didn’t mean to upset you,” Anthony replied. “Neither did Christine. And I think they understand that you’re not purposefully antagonizing them.”

Stephen sat up, the intense mix of emotion in eyes burning a hole in the ceiling as he leaned against the headboard and a pile of throw pillows.

Anthony shifted just enough to rest his head on Stephen’s shoulder, silently reminding him that he wasn’t alone. He offered one of his hands, Stephen holding it gently. He drew figure eights on Anthony’s upturned palm as he thought, the motion soothing as he started talking.

“Before I came home today, when I went to Starbucks, I got a call from my dad,” Stephen began. “Mom changed the plan for today, he said. I don’t know what she did specifically but all that matters is that she rearranged the family call so I couldn’t join. That was her way of telling me she’s mad at me without having to burden herself by speaking with me.”

Anthony shifted to straddle him, comfortingly resting his hands on Stephen’s arms. Stephen didn’t meet his concerned gaze.“I’m sorry.”

“It gets worse. When I said earlier that I’ve dealt with worse things today than some homophobic children, all of this is what I mean.” Stephen was still staring upwards, as if their ceiling had an answer he didn’t. “I got to talk to Vic, which was most important to me. We didn’t talk for very long since I was planning on going to my next class at that point, but I got to wish him a happy birthday and apologize for not being able to join the call. He wasn’t upset with me, he understood and we left things on the same good terms. I didn’t tell him why I couldn’t join, but I’m sure he knows. I’m sure he’s figured out why Mom and I don’t talk, he knows enough of the story to figure it out.”

He was crying now, all of his emotions boiling over. He was livid, devastated, and afraid for some reason, hiding his face in his hands.

Anthony was silent, taking both of Stephen’s hands and letting him cry until he’d somewhat calmed down.

“Sorry,” Stephen mumbled. He rested their joined hands in his lap and turned his teary gaze on Anthony. “I've not even finished the story and I’m already a mess.”

“It’s okay Steph, you don’t have to be.” Anthony brushed a few stray tears off Stephen’s face.

Stephen sighed. “I knew by the time I got home that she wasn’t going to call me. That’s why I came back, honestly. I didn’t want to sit through my classes thinking about it, thinking about how I’m… thinking about how she wouldn’t call. I tried to make myself tell you earlier, but I can barely come to terms with all of this in my own head. I wasn’t trying to lie to you when you said she might call, I promise. I was just holding onto the smallest wisp of hope that maybe she’d change her mind.”

“I don’t feel like you lied to me,” Anthony replied, one of his hands again finding its way to playing with Stephen’s hair. “I’m sorry I was so insistent in saying she’d call. I was trying to reassure you.”

“I know,” Stephen said. “It helped a little, especially since I was trying to convince myself that she’d end up calling. But she never did, Anthony, and she won’t. Dad said she told him directly that she wasn’t going to talk to me, so why am I such a fool and still hoping she’ll come around? I’m dead to her and I should be able to understand that!”

“I imagine you’re trying to make yourself accept it so you can move on, right?” Anthony asked.

Stephen nodded frantically, his eyes shut tight as he began to cry again. “I know that’s not the best way to deal with things, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t expect her to accept me anytime soon, and I know my family isn’t going to ever feel whole again. But I ruined Victor’s birthday by not showing up for him with the rest of the family! I would’ve joined the call if she wasn’t mad at me, and I didn’t even fucking do anything!”

Stephen was crying more out of anger than sadness, resting his head on Anthony’s shoulder and subconsciously pinching his forearm.

Anthony hugged him, both to reassure Stephen and to keep him from hurting himself in anger. “You haven’t failed him. You did what you could and made the best out of an awful, fucked up situation.”

Stephen just nodded, hearing Anthony’s message but not fully listening “Speaking of fucked up, and this is actually probably the thing I’m most upset about, you know my cousin Maxwell?”

"Yeah.”

“He took a page out of my mom’s book and outed me to my aunt.”

“Jesus Christ.” Now Anthony looked as angry as Stephen felt, a storm brewing in his eyes.

“I’m lucky because my aunt Claudia is great, and she’s really accepting but that obviously pissed my mom off so now she’s mad at her sister and at me,” Stephen said.

“That’s good about your aunt, but why the fuck would your cousin do that?” Anthony asked.

“He might have thought she already knew, I don’t know. It’s not okay that he did it, but it’s a relief to know that at least she took it well. I was worried she’d make fun of me since she always likes to prank and make me the butt of the joke, and even that would be fine compared to my mom’s response,” Stephen replied. “If I got over this faster I wouldn’t have taken all the fun out of tonight.”

“Hey, stop that,” Anthony murmured. “You didn’t! I like being around you no matter what mood you’re in, and I’m always here for you. That includes when things aren’t going well, by the way. My love for you isn’t conditional.”

Stephen looked up enough just to see Anthony’s face. “Do you think she’s ever going to come around? And not just today, but in general?”

“I hope so,” Anthony replied. “You don’t deserve to deal with this from her, or from anyone but least of all your own mother, and I hope she understands that sooner rather than later. But I can’t say with certainty what she’s going to do.”

“I just want today to be over,” Stephen said with a sigh. “I mean I did have fun tonight, but spending the entire day attached to my phone and trying to ignore what I already know wasn’t really nice.”

Anthony nodded. “Why don’t we get ready for bed then? We can put it all behind us and start over tomorrow.”

“That sounds good,” Stephen whispered. “I know I won’t ever forget this, but just for now I want to set it aside.”

++++

The day should’ve ended there, with slight banter and falling into bed with the person Stephen loved most in the world. But of course it didn’t, of course the powers that controlled his life had to have the last laugh. He’d just closed his eyes and was starting to slip away, content as Anthony pulled up one of their nighttime playlists and hummed along to whatever song was playing. Stephen was the little spoon tonight, feeling loved and secure and safe in the dark of their bedroom and Anthony’s arms. He was finally starting to relax, and then the phone rang.

He didn’t expect it and was annoyed when he heard the first notes of his ringtone, but he answered anyway thinking it was one of their friends. Thor especially had a tendency to call people earlier in the morning or later at night. “Hello?”

Despite having called him, the person on the other end of the line responded with a hasty “I must’ve misdialed. Don’t call back.”

Oh my god.

The cold, familiar voice ringing out over the speakerphone made Stephen’s heart stop.

SHE CALLED!

“No Mom, wait! I didn’t think you were going to call.”

“I don’t consider you my son, I don’t know why you keep calling me your mother,” Beverly replied. “I told you, I misdialed. I wouldn’t go out of my way to speak with you, not after you continuously cast shame onto my family.”

“Not even today? On Victor’s birthday?” Stephen asked.

Beverly scoffed. “No, and don’t even say his name! You and Victor aren’t brothers anymore, you decided that for yourself, and I’ll not have any outside influences corrupting my only son!” She hung up before Stephen could defend himself, the dial tone uncomfortably loud.

Stephen wasn’t sure what to do. A sharp, stabbing numbness seized his body and he curled in on himself to escape the onslaught of emotion hanging over his head. He turned onto his other side, burying his head in Anthony’s chest and failing to keep himself from crying.

“None of what she told you is true,” Anthony said. “Not a damn thing. You—”

Stephen shook his head. “Anthony, don't talk. Please, I’m sorry, I love you and I love your voice but I can’t… it’s too much…”

Anthony shushed him softly, carding his hand through Stephen’s hair again. He wanted to say something, to tell Stephen that he didn’t have to apologize, but that wouldn’t do any good. Instead, he just hugged Stephen tighter and gave him a soft kiss. Sometimes love was best conveyed in actions.

This is just like when I left after the funeral, when we hid from the outside world together. No one makes me feel at home the way Anthony does.

Stephen was too used to crying in Anthony’s arms because of things his mother… because of things Beverly told him. He knew he could run and hide from this or any problem with Anthony, and he’d always be safe and accepted and home. The thought was comforting, especially to the part of Stephen’s mind that was loath and afraid to confront the truth.

Eventually I’m going to have to process this fully and give myself the time to do it. I know myself, and I’m not going to change for anyone. Why should I have to?

Stephen shifted closer to Anthony, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. He rested his head on Anthony’s shoulder, the tiniest smile on his face.

How does he already have bedhead? Adorable.

Despite saying that he wasn’t tired, Anthony was already falling asleep. “Need anything?”

Stephen shook his head and softly kissed Anthony’s cheek. “I’ll be fine. I’m just as tired as you, if not more.”

“Doubtful.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you just scoffed at me.”

“I didn’t!”

Stephen rolled his eyes and leaned up to kiss Anthony’s cheek. “I love you. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything, really, and I love you too,” Anthony replied with a yawn.

“You’ve done more for me than you realize, and I think you know it,” Stephen murmured.

Already falling asleep, Anthony didn’t respond verbally. He just hugged Stephen closer, again saying much more than words ever could.

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @taruyison @kitkatfat15 @katninjagirl97 @spookywizardboy @ocforeverything @ironstrange-chaos @chocopiggy @lokis-leah @majesticnerdynerd @maya-custodios-dionach @thespacecryptid @kiwidino @doctorstephenvincentstarkstrange

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theficplug · 4 years

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l Next Lifetime l Erik Killmonger l

warnings: none, but the usual 18+ for the eventual smut and a possible tw for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcom

synopsis: reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). I really want to make it a series that i actually keep up with (sorry Girls Trip readers) because I have up to part 4 written. alright thats all i hope yall vibe with it.

erik killmonger x black reader

Every night since Erik crossed over into the ancestral plane he has visited you in your dreams. You went through every single stage of grief before you began to accept the facts.

At first you sat and festered in your anger for him and refused to talk to him. The audacity of him, after you begged him not to follow through with the idiotic plan of trying to take on all of Wakanda.

You told him that his ideas and his heart would’ve been in the right place had they not have been clouded by rage and carrying years of hurt and anguish. You understood where he was coming from but you knew and he knew that the way he was going about it was only going to leave him with one ending.

He loved you more than anything but once his mind was made up about something there was nothing in Heaven or Earth that could change it.

You knew that he would have to see it through even if that meant to his own demise .

On the first night you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cuss him out for leaving you like that and going off and getting himself killed. You told him that he had done the same thing to you that “King” Azzuri had done to his father. Left you feeling alone and to deal with the loss of not having your heart with you.

“I COULD HAVE LOVED YOU THE WAY YOU WANTED TO BE LOVED. I COULDN’T HAVE LOVED YOU MORE EACH DAY IF I TRIED. FUCK YOU E. THAT WAS SO DAMN SELFISH OF YOU. FUCK YOU. I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU. AND YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO INVADE MY DREAMS LIKE THIS. YOU AREN’T EVEN REAL.” you would yell into his face and watch as his demeanor was a lot different there.

It was as if his Earthside worries didn’t bother him as much his face seemed much more relaxed and his scars had healed over.

You would run your fingers over his chest as the tears well in your eyes and you take in the sigh of him for a moment.

“I know… It wouldn’t have been enough. I couldn’t contain it. It felt like something had come over me . Possessed by the idea of revenge. I needed it. I felt like my father’s memory was worth avenging until I sat down with him here. He and moms sounded a lot like you at first. They were pissed off, but they understood. The ancestors told me that “a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth”. I wanted their warmth at first. To know what it would feel like to have what T’Challa and Shuri got to experience their whole lives. But it was something about the heat of fury that felt different. But I realized somethin’. On this side, don’t none of that matters. None of it. The only thing I see and think of is you and how I wished I would have focused on growing old with you instead.” he explains and you fall into his arms to let out the sob that you had been holding in for a while.

You wake up in the dark room in cold sweats and gasping for air. You realized that you had been crying in your sleep and wiped your eyes before trying to shake it off and smack at your phone to get the alarm to stop.

For weeks it would go on like this every night. You would settle into bed and fade into hues of reds and purples as you wander around finding him sitting in different sections of the flowers and creeks. He was holding a little bouquet of random tulips and wildflowers in his hand for you.

You settle on the grass next to him and rest your head on his shoulder as he turns to kiss your head.

“You ever wonder what life would be like if it wasn’t like this? If we could truly do anything, be anything and not have to worry about everything else.” you ask him and he takes your hand in his.

He looks at you pondering your question for a moment before tucking a lilac into your hair.

“Nah, I can’t let myself think like that because I'll get stuck in wishing I were there. Instead of getting to enjoy these moments and building my own lil slice of heaven with you.” he says quietly thinking things over before leaning into kissing you softly.

You wipe at the tear falling down his cheek before replacing your thumb with a kiss.

“Take me back to being 6 years old in the cool murky ass Toll Plaza waters,feeling weightless, not caring about a damn thing.”

“We’re reaching out for each other with our popsicle stained hands and laughing at shit that doesn't even make sense but it made sense to us. My gramps yelling at us to not go too far out so that he can get to us. We called him crab pawpaw for the rest of the day...What I wouldn't give to be sitting on my grandmother’s porch swing, trading cards with you. Our birthday is coming up soon. I’m going to miss getting charms from you.” you say to him softly as you run your fingers through his thicker beard and take in every second that you get with him.

“I’ve been promised that I can give you something more special than a charm. You gotta just trust that everything gon’ be alright.” he reassures you and pulls you closer into his arms

“GIRL IF YOU DON’T GET UP RIGHT NOW. YOU LEFT THE ROAST IN THE OVEN-” your best friend Tika yelled from the kitchen as she flailed around with the extinguisher and you wake up puzzled for a moment before letting out an “oh shit”. You remember that you laid down on the couch to scroll while your roast baked and the next thing you know, you were sleeping and that that old ass oven is smoking.

You spring up from the couch grabbing a towel and fanning the fire alarms trying to get them to stop blaring before the Super comes pounding at your door.

“Alright. Alright, stop hollering. I was trying to surprise you with a nice dinner to thank you for being there for me over the last 9 months. I know it ain't been easy having me mope around and not be myself. I swear I sat down for 10 minutes tops and I was just flat out asleep. Them doubles at work has been kicking my ass and grad school-.” you explain and Tika shakes her head.

She puts the extinguisher down and holds up her hands. “When my dad passed junior year of college, you and your entire family were there for me and my mom. You guys made sure that we had food for weeks and were able to make rent on time and everything in between. I know what grief looks like. I couldn’t imagine losing the love of my life like that. I know that we didn’t know Erik like you knew him but the way you talk about him. You’ve convinced me that he hung the moon itself in the sky.” she reassures you and you nod while looking over at the blackened roast that's sitting in the pan, burnt to a crisp.

“It’s only 6:30. Wong’s is still open. I'll just go get something real quick. Do you want vegetable noodles and the teriyaki chicken again?” you ask as you pull on your shoes and grab your umbrella.

“Surprise meeee and you owe me flan for cleaning up this messss.” She sing songs as she grabs the mop.

“Leave it up to a theatre major to turn nearly burning down our apartment into a song. I got you.” you reply, laughing on your way out the door.

You couldn’t shake what Erik had told you in your dream this time though. He had been promised that he could give you something better than a charm. What the hell did that mean though? You were sure you were probably just overly stressed and exhausted from working and classes. You were going to enjoy your birthday beach trip this weekend with your friends and try to put everything else behind you.

Somehow as lost in your thoughts as you were you managed to make it to Wong’s and back home just in time to greet an overly dramatic Iridia at the door.

“What the hell happened here?” she asks, sitting down her bags and surveying the burnt roast and little residues of foam still left to clean.

“She fell asleep and almost turned our overpriced condo into dust.” Tika answers for you and you give her a small nod.

“I got you spicy egg rolls?” you offer and she hesitantly takes her order from you with a small smile.

“Got something to lift your spirits. It’s new dresses to wear this weekend cause girl I get it. I do, but grey is just not your colour sweets. You’ve got yellow undertones, you need scarlet reds, ochre. Something, not, this…” she trails off pointing at your baggy sweats and oversized sweatshirt.

You laugh softly at her bluntness finding it kind of nice that some things have remained normal.

“Whaaat? I thought this was hermit chic?” you retort sarcastically.

“Thank you. That’s almost sweet of you.” you reply by taking the bags from her. You look at the red mesh dress and admit that if there’s one thing about Iridia is that her bougie self got style and you missed getting dressed up.

You thank the girls one final time before retiring to your room to finish some of your assignments up. You look over at the clock and notice that it’s 2 am. You crack open the fortune cookie on your nightstand and eye the quote etched across the small piece of paper

“Pfft. If only that damn 10$ that i lost last week could circle back around to me. That’d be nice.” you thought to yourself before closing your laptop and trying to get some rest to have enough energy for this weekend.

As you settle in the usual hues of lavender, violet, and scarlet come into view and you are taken into the field of flowers and you giggle as the butterflies land on your shoulder and one on the tip of your finger.

Your plan worked. You only thought about E’s favourite double chocolate cake and hoped that you’d be able to bring it into your dreams with you.

You carried it proudly as you scan the field of flowers and beautiful willow trees for him.

“E? E ! Happy Birthday to us! E. Where you at?” you call for him and look around but he’s nowhere to be found. You sat on a large boulder by the water hoping that he was just exploring and would find you eventually.

You didn’t get much sleep that night after waking up shivering and in tears thinking about how the only connection you two still had left was broken.

You do eventually fall back to sleep only to dream about running across campus and being late to a final even though you were nearly done entirely with university.

A few restless hours later and you were already dressed and enjoying your fresh brew while watching the world awaken from the kitchen window.

“Good morning.” you startle Iridia and Tika who were trying to sneak into the kitchen with breakfast and set everything up for you.

“Damn we can’t get anything past your insomniatic self. Buon compleanno bambina!” Tika says sliding on her little party hat.

“You’re wearing the dress! You look so pretty and is that eyeshadow I see on you? Okay lemme find out our girl is slowly coming back to herself.” Iridia says smiling at you.

“Thank you, do I smell pancakes?” you question and they laugh as they hand over the box to you.

After you have all gone over plans for the little weekend trip you grab your bags and are ready to hit the road.

It was only an hour to The Smith’s beach house for the weekend but all 3 of you were well stocked with snacks and playlists.

“We are heerrrreeeeee” Tika announces while parking the car.

You get settled into the lavish and snazzy beach home, courtesy of Iridia’s parents. You hadn’t been since junior year of college and was just glad to be in a different setting.

“They said that the wine bar is open to us and we can have the party here as long as it looks the same as when we found it.” Iridia says already getting ready to change into her neon bikini to compliment her rich complexion and hit the beach.

“What, it’s summer? You never know who the winds of adventure are going to blow in-”

“FUCK MEEEE” you both hear Tika call from the bathroom down the hall.

“HUN?” you call back and you both laugh at the long sigh followed by “guess who Mother Nature decided to surprise 2 weeks early? I didn’t even think about it and didn’t pack any tampons.” she explains

“On it. I’ll be back in like .2 seconds in the meantime toilet paper pad it and figure out which boutiques we’re going to damage our savings with first.” you say before hearing Tika’s protests.

“It’s your birthday. I’ll go.” Iri suggests and you shake your head. “I love y’all but it’s our first birthday that we don’t get to spend together apart from when he joined the military and I know he wasn’t perfect and he had his flaws but I really wish that I could get to hug him once more. To make him feel special even if just for a second… So please, I'll get the tampons. I could use the fresh air.” you say quickly dabbing at the tears prickling the corners of your eyes. Iri pulls you in for a hug before nodding and starting the conversation with Tika through the door about if she would prefer to go for the street festival first or the carnival games.

- - - -

You pull at the top of the sundress getting it to hit just right and not fall down as you make your way down the aisle of the market and pick up a few things that y’all might need for the weekend like the small cups for shots, fresh fruits for your ‘cure to a hangover’ smoothies, and food.

You pick up a small double chocolate cake with ‘happy birthday’ written in cerulean letters.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry ma. I don’t mean to bother you right now but I got a head splitting migraine right now and can’t find the Advil for nothing and was hoping maybe you’d know which aisle? That’s what I get for listening to my friends talking bout, drink “the beast”. Niggas had me dreaming in colours and flowers. I felt like I was traveling through space or something... It’s my birthday too. Happy Birthday “ you hear the man ranting away behind you and his voice reminds you of E’s. You chuckle softly to yourself before turning away from the cakes to see the man's face.

You let out a loud scream and drop the cake on the ground . It crumbles instantly across your sandals and everything fades to black before you faint.

When you came to you were sitting in the break room of the market with Erik and the store managers who were opening a ginger ale for you and asking if you were okay.

You nod slowly, coming to, and closing your eyes again to count to 5 as they leave the room.

“This can not be happening. I know that this is not happening right now.” you say to yourself and you look up at him again to see that he’s still standing there.

“It’s hot as fuck outside. You probably just got a lil overheated. This ginger ale is cold so you should be alright.” Erik says to you and you shakily take the ginger ale from him.

“Who are you? I don’t know what kind of joke this is or who put you up to this, or if my girls thought that this, whatever this is would be funny but it’s not. It’s really insensitive.” you say as tears fill your eyes again.

“I’m N’Jadaka Stevens? My parents, I’m adopted, but those are my parents regardless, own Aloha Oakland so you ain’t gotta worry about paying for this” he gives you the bags of items you collected before you fainted.

“ I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I never come down here so I don’t really know where shit is in this place. I'm actually here with my own friends, celebrating my birthday. So, I don’t really know what’s going on. You good?” he asks again before asking you to follow his finger.

You wrap your arms around him and break down sobbing. “Happy Birthday.” you whisper to him and he looks at you puzzled for a moment.

“Ma, you lowkey weird but everybody needs a hug and I can’t have my birthday twin crying on her special day so come here.” he says squeezing you a little tighter.

“If you’re here through the weekend. I’ll catch you around. Try to stay out of the heat but if you go out try to keep something cold with you to drink so you don’t pass out again.” he advises and you take him all in.

You slowly give him a once-over noticing that his hair was now faded and it was neatly lined up on the sides connecting with his beard. He slid off his hoodie and left the black tank top underneath, you quickly noticed that there were no scars or keloids. His jaw was unclenched and there was no vein popping from his forehead. There was a serene and relaxed look etched across his face despite him stating that he had a migraine earlier.

“But shiiit if you don’t mind. Can I get your number? Cause for some reason. I don’t know why I feel like I know you? To be honest I don’t remember much from before being adopted.” he admits

You nod your head before putting your number into his phone and you grab your bags and quickly make your way to your car.

You breathe in deeply through your nose before looking around. “I’m losing my fucking mind.” you say to yourself quietly. “I gotta be. This can’t- This can’t be happening right now.” you say resting your head on your steering wheel.

- - - -

“What happened to you? It’s been like an hour almost. Are you okay?” Iri questions as she eyes you and the bags.

“I just. I fainted that’s all and they wanted to make sure I was okay before going home.” you explain and Tika thanks you for the tampons as Iridia overly dramatic self sighs and presses her hand to your forehead.

“Poor thing, I knew I should’ve gone with you. Sit down, I’ll get you a cold glass of Stella Rose.” she says laughing at the wine part and walking to the kitchen.

Group Text from DakaStevens84: Party @ Royal Rochelle’s Roller Rink. Yes, the roller rink cause who says you’re too old for a roller rink? Come skate fast and shake ya ass.

You laugh softly at the message knowing that this is something that he would’ve totally wanted to do but never took his eye off his plan or gave himself time to just breathe and be.

“My fault. It’s Daka from Aloha Oakland btw. My friend Orleans really tryna go through with this. Man a whole ass party planner and this the best he could come up with. Y’all can still come through though if you want. I wouldn’t complain if I got to see you again, and them pretty ass coffee eyes.” he texts to you and you smile softly at the butterflies fluttering in your stomach while looking at the text

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” you ask Iri as Tika joins you at the bar.

[tag list @doublesidedscoobysnacks @chaneajoyyy @mirandkimy @doitforthevine67 @dasia21 @depressionandfandomsinc @sinfully-dope @ambitionwood @heybriheyyy @wholelotta-melanin @theesotericqueen @mbakuwife @spookys-girl @teardropzih @bigchoose @ceo-of-baby @sweetpeachjones @lost-ssoull @love17us @beautifullmelodyxx @ghostfacekill-monger @shyblackgurl ]

#erik killmonger #black panther fic #erik killmonger smut #Erik killmonger x Reader

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cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 34

Happy Birthday, Ella

Summary: It’s Eleanor’s 18th birthday

Word Count: ~2.6k

A/N: big time jump!

A/N 2: ahhh this is the last chapter!! the one before this was sort of a conclusion but in this one is more like... the aftermath of the aftermath, haha. anyway, this was more than difficult to get out, firstly because i absolutely suck at conclusions so if this is terrible, sorry :( and secondly because this is my first fic and i really can’t believe it’s finished! am i crying? maybe... anywayyy, thank you all so much for reading!! i hope you’ve enjoyed this series as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!! <3

Warnings: mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book, “The Goldfinch”)*

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890 @choicesbutterfly

- Eleanor -

I sit at the empty desk across from my bed. There is nothing in front of me, but I stare at my neat piles of notebooks and novels: some that Daddyo had recommended to me, others that I had borrowed from his library.

My bedroom door is open. From the hall, I hear the tapping of Roger’s paws and the light thuds of Fabian’s footsteps. The noise of their arrival lightly raises me from my seat and my tired thoughts. I walk out of my room and go after them.

Roger runs away from Fabian with something in his mouth. My little brother giggles as he runs after our dog, struggling to keep up with him. The dog weaves through crowds of servants, making its way towards the front of the palace.

Fabian sighs, frustrated. I put my hand on his shoulder and urge him to continue on with me.

Once we reach the front doors, we see that Roger has stopped running and is having his belly rubbed by Aunt Rowan, while her oldest son, Rowell, races towards my brother.

Rowell and Fabian run off quickly, already in the midst of a game. Lord Maxwell gives me a side hug, holding his and Aunt Rowan’s youngest son to his side.

I hug Aunt Rowan, then give the little babe a kiss on his chubby cheek. I lead them towards the sitting room, where Mama drinks tea with Duchess Hana and Duchess Olivia.

After the adults are all seated, they usher me out of the room. I giggle, saying that there’s nothing they have to hide from me, but I know what they’re planning and agree to leave.

Outside the sitting room, I decide to go look for Gabe and Daddyo, hoping that their meeting with the dignitary was over. I check my watch and see that they should have been done about a half-hour ago, but I know my brother had probably gone on overtime.

He had started taking his duties more seriously as of late, and I know it’s because of the talk Daddyo had with us at Applewood. He had insisted that I come along into town with them and receive the same speech, even though I said I was fine with staying behind.

Gabriel and I had laughed when Daddyo told us that he was the heir and I was the spare. The silly phrase wasn’t the only thing that sent us into a fit of laughter, but it was also a bit of disbelief. My brother and I weren’t naive; we knew what the people of the court had to say about me being a member of the royal family. Daddyo never failed to remind us that their opinions didn’t matter and that I was his daughter no matter what anyone said, but of course, people kept talking.

Sometimes I wanted to argue with him and say that keeping my last name as Blaise — while Gabe’s had been changed to Rys years ago — would keep me from being fully considered his daughter, even though he had officially adopted me when he married my mother.

But I knew such arguments were ones that broke his heart. The smallest change in my behavior made him fear that I no longer considered him my father, which was heartwarming, in a sense, but also depressing. (When I was about twelve, I had thought calling him “Daddyo” was too childish, so like Gabe I called him “Dad.” One morning he pulled me to the side and with the saddest eyes asked me if I was upset with him, or if he had done something to anger me. I laughed it off but went back to calling him “Daddyo” immediately. Though I cringed every time I said it, it was better than upsetting the only man who had ever felt like a true father to me).

And so most of my daily thoughts were now consumed by the anger I had for my biological father — everything he did to my family, and to the nation and people I had come to love — but I was slowly coming to terms with it. Even though I was ashamed of him, I was accepting the fact that he could no longer dictate my life or the lives of those I love.

These past few months marked ten years after the bombing. When my father had died, and Gabe and I had been in the hospital waiting for Mama to get better, I had been childishly angry at him. My last clear memory with my biological father had been reminding him to take pictures of the new exhibit at The Met so I could get a glimpse of what he and my mother would see. He was never able to show me those photos. That is, if he even took any.

But that was a different kind of frustration. One that, if my little brother Fabian expressed, I would sadly laugh at and explain to him the seriousness of the situation.

Theodore’s actions had controlled all of us, even Daddyo, Uncle Drake, Lord Maxwell, and Duchess Hana.

But now we are all in control of our lives again. Uncle Drake and Duchess Olivia had done honorable work with the King’s Guard. Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan had married a few months after my parents did, and a year later Duke Rashad married Hana — around the time Fabian was born. Daddyo eventually mended his relationship with Uncle Leo, and every few months his family would come to visit us.

Any person who was a threat, such as Boris — his betrayal was one that broke my childish heart, but not a day passed where I missed him— and Uncle Drake’s ex-fiancée, Jessica, were spending the rest of their lives behind bars.

It had taken our parents a while to tell us everything, and when they finally did, it took even longer for us to come to terms with it all. But Daddyo and Mama never pushed us away when we needed to talk to them.

As I walk up the stairs to Daddyo’s office, I take deep breaths, allowing the concerns to flow out of me. Before I knock on the door, my mind is clear.

I smile to myself as I reach for the handle, memories of our obstacles so far behind us that I feel foolish worrying about them at all.

Inside, Daddyo, Gabe, Fabian, and Rowell are crowded around something on the desk. Everyone turns to face me.

“Is it time for the party?” Rowell asks.

“Shush!” Fabian elbows his friend while Gabe and Daddyo laugh.

Once the boys are done scolding each other, Daddyo asks, “What do you think about eating out for lunch?”

“Same restaurant?” Fabian questions.

“Unless you wish to go someplace else?”

I shake my head, then link my arm through his. “No, I like that place.”

As we walk out the doors of the palace, we spot Uncle Leo, Aunt Katie, Hunter, and Heather with bags in their hands. Once they see us, they lightly toss those bags back into their limo, and they join us in our car to go eat lunch.

We had eaten in this restaurant on my eighth birthday, which had been only a week after Mama and Daddyo had come back from their honeymoon. My family came here often, and Uncle Leo liked joining us.

We enter the restaurant and see that the place is empty. The menus are put in front of us, and we order without looking at it. Fabian and Rowell talk between themselves, and Heather tells me about their flight, while Uncle Leo asks Gabe how he’s feeling.

Gabe shakes his head, an amused look on his face. “You know, I thought this would all be overwhelming. I was scared that the pressure would bring the anxiety back, but it didn’t.”

Uncle Leo pats my brother’s back. “Now tell me about that girl you mentioned in that course you took.”

Gabe’s face goes red, and he gives a little laugh. Aunt Katie raises her eyebrows, while Daddyo urges him to talk.

My brother leans back in his seat, the amusement increasing. “I’m think I’m gonna draft a letter to her.”

“Oh?” Aunt Katie takes a sip of her drink.

“I’m planning on asking her to join the next Social Season. That reminds me.” He cuts off and looks towards our father.

But before he can say anything, Uncle Leo goes, “Gabe, go to your dad when you want to know what not to do. Take my advice instead—”

Hunter interrupts him: “You say that like your advice doesn’t backfire on the regular.”

“Poor soul is speaking from experience,” Heather whispers to me. Daddyo overhears her, and laughs with us.

We leave as soon as we finish our meal, not considering dessert. The ride back to the palace is filled with smooth conversations and laughs. As the limo stops in front of the entrance, everyone tells me to exit the vehicle first.

Tentatively, I crawl out the car and make my way up the stairs. Servants open the doors for me, and the entire room is flooded with balloons, decorations, and sweets.

My mother kisses my cheek, then Daddyo and Gabe wrap me in a hug. Fabian runs off quickly with Rowell.

The rest of my parents’ friends continue giving me birthday wishes, until Fabian finally reemerges with an envelope in his hand. Everyone crowds around me as I open it and take out a thin, rectangular piece of paper.

“It’s a bookmark!” Fabian cries as I examine it. I turn it over in my hands, feeling the soft edges against my skin. On the other side, there’s a drawing of six stick figures. Fabian puts his finger on the bookmark, and I bring it to his eye level.

“That’s you with the books since you like reading,” he tells me. “That’s Daddy and Mom since they have the crowns, and Gabe is the one with the smaller crown, and that’s me and Roger, and that’s our home in the background.” I follow his finger as he points to his little drawings. “I know it’s not very good, but I didn’t know what else to get you!” He giggles as I further examine it.

“No one knew what to get her,” Gabe comments. “Little Miss—” he takes on a high pitched voice— “Oh, you don’t have to get me anything! No, really, I don’t want anything!”

The room of friends laugh and chuckle at the mocking voice.

I go through everyone else’s gifts, which are mostly things that I can use, but don’t need and didn’t ask for; like Fabian said, everyone had wanted to get me something, but I was in need of nothing. I know that Uncle Maxwell was more than frustrated when I told him so, and he must have been even more upset when he couldn’t get any hints out of my parents either. His and Aunt Rowan’s present to me are new pointe shoes.

Duchess Olivia had started giving me more self-defense lessons, so her gift to me is a stiletto knife, along with stiletto shoes.

Duke Rashad and Duchess Hana give me a pearl necklace: when the Duchess had taught me how to paint, we had made portraits of each other and had illustrated pearls on our pictures. The portrait I had made of his wife was the Duke’s favorite.

Uncle Leo and Hunter give me new paint brushes and a steel paint easel. Heather hands me a cup with a picture of her and I on it — I had given her something similar for her birthday — and Aunt Katie gives me a cute bag.

Uncle Drake gifts me a new pair of skis: last winter and during the Social Season, we had raced down a slope and I had lost both times. “So you can practice a bit more next time we head to Lythikos,” he tells me with a pat on my back.

Gabriel hands me a heavy box. My arms burn as I make my way towards a table and put it down. Inside are books that are on my to-read list, candies that we had tried and liked on our last family trip to Italy, a bracelet with charms, and gold earrings shaped like a crescent moon. “You didn’t give me any clues for what you wanted, so I just put all of them in there,” my brother says with a shrug.

Mama and Daddyo’s gift is next. My father wraps me in a large hug, then holds me to his side as servants roll in a new Baroque piano — it was similar to the one I had seen in a museum the last time we visited Applewood. The old one was being wheeled out; I had played it daily in the last few years, both for the entertainment of my family and for important members of the nobility, and even though it was constantly cared for, the strings had started to become dusty. I knew we wouldn’t get rid of it; I was sure that Daddyo had plans to donate it, but again I felt that there was no need for a newer one. We could have just taken more care of the one we had.

But I don’t complain. I could never complain for this group of people who love me so dearly. I accept hugs from everyone in the room, and then the cake is brought out. The frosting looks like a painting, and is sweetly smooth as we eat it, the icing staining the corners of our mouths.

We sit and chat about nothing at all, simply enjoying the blissful companionship that came with family and beloved friends. I had told my parents that I didn’t want a big party, and this was exactly what I had in mind. The room is light and joyful: Uncle Maxwell tells jokes while Uncle Drake rolls his eyes, Mama throws her head back, Daddyo’s arm around her while he tries his best not to laugh, and Uncle Leo, Hunter, and Gabe wipe tears from their eyes.

The rest of the party is spent like that. The irreplaceable friendships that had went from nothing, to everything, to nothing again, then beyond the meaning of intimacy that came with being understood. It fills the rooms of the palace as it has these last ten years.

I think about the gifts I’ve been given today, wondering where I would put them in my room — except for the piano, which I will leave in the ballroom — and how I will use them. I smile when I remember Gabe’s joke about my refusing presents.

I don’t think he understands that I didn’t wish for specific objects because I can’t remember the last time I longed for anything, and if I ever did, there was no request that Daddyo wouldn’t strive to fulfill. My life had never felt lonely or without purpose, and I think that means I’ve found happiness. Like everyone in this room.

Daddyo notices that I’ve zoned out a bit. From the corner of my eye I can see the gentle wrinkles on his face and the graying roots of his hair. He leans towards me and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Happy birthday, Ella dear. I love you.”

I smile at him, then use my fork to steal a bit of icing off his cake. Fabian follows suit, and soon our dad’s cake has no frosting on it.

The three of us laugh, and with a mouth full of sugar I say, “I love you, too, Daddyo.”

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr fanfic #choices the royal romance fanfic #choices the royal heir fanfic #trr #trr au fanfic #liam x mc #liam x mc fanfic #maxwell x oc #choices fanfic #trr fanfic #choices trr #the royal romance fanfic

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kitten-mafiagang · 4 years

Text

The One That Got Away [Bokuto x Reader x Akaashi] SongFic

(Akaashi's pov)

Summer after high school, when we first met We'd make-out in your Mustang to Radiohead~

Me and bokuto-san met (y/n)-san in middle school.

She ad bokuto-san are nore closer though...

And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos~

But what if i say me and bokuto-san catch the same feelings for her..?

Should i let go?

Used to steal your parents liquor and climb to the roof Talk about our future like we had a clue~

Even though she's a wild one like bokuto-san i still like her..

she's different to me..

(Bokuto's pov)

Never planned that one day I'd be losing you~

I like (y/n)-chan and im not dense i know akaashi likes her too...

Should i let go?

In another life, I would be your girl We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world~

When the school held a prom i confessed my feelings to her..

"(Y/n)-chan... i like you..." i told those words

She told me to wait..

In another life, I would make you stay So I don't have to say you were the one that got away~

(Akaashi's pov)

I know bokuto-san confessed his feelings...

But i want to try...

"(Y/n)....i like..you." i told her but she smiled at me and told me to wait.

Is she going to play with our feelings..?

Why (y/n)...why

The one that got away~

(3rd person)

Its been 2 weeks since the confession

And (y/n) disappear without a clue which worries bokuto and akaashi.

(Bokuto's pov)

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash Never one without the other, we made a pact~

Its the 3rd week today she never answers my texts and calls i am now wprried and distracted to my volleyball career.

Sometimes when I miss you, I put those records on, woah~

I would browse my gallery on my phone and remember happy memories of me and her...and akaashi

Someone said you had your tattoo removed Saw you downtown, singing the blues~

(Akaashi's pov)

Im really worried to (y/n)...

She doesnt answer my calls and texts.

It's time to face the music, I'm no longer your muse~

Me and bokuto-san are planning to visit her.

But when we went inside her house..

we saw her mom crying.

we ask her what happened but here we are she brought us to a hospital room..

And (y/n)..lying at the bed...looking at us with a teary smile..

In another life, I would be your girl We keep all our promises, be us against the world~

Everyday we been visiting her supporting her.

In another life, I would make you stay So I don't have to say you were the one that got away The one that got away~

(3rd person)

As for her last day..

In another life, I would be your girl~

akaashi and bokuto sitting on her bed.

We keep all our promises, be us against the world In another life, I would make you stay~

"(y/n)-chan...why did you made us wait..?" bokuto ask trying not to cry.

So I don't have to say you were the one that got away The one that got away~

"...please do wait me.." she tried to speak

"...(y/n).." akaashi called.

The one...~

"pl-please do wait me..." she said.

In another life, I would make you stay So I don't have to say you were the one that got away~

Akaashi and bokuto nods.

The one that got away~

"I will find you" both of them said at the same time.

#haikyu x reader #x reader #hq angst #akaashi angst #bokuto angst #haikyuu angst

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ravs6709 · 3 years

Text

These Feelings Inside (How Deep Do They Go)

Chapter 2- A Broken Heart

Read on ao3.

Masterlist. Previous. Next.

Woo, chapter 2 of the fic for the @kotlc2021collab! Fun fact, like all of this chapter was supposed to happen in the first one, but I got carried away with the prologue (which I do like)

Anyways, this is a mermaid (siren) au, so its about time we meet a siren. I've mentioned last time that this was inspired by Siren's Lament. I didn't use those lyrics as the siren song, and instead made my own (with very loose inspiration from SL's version)

And uh... I did record myself singing it, and made a post for it. If you want to listen to it, you can go here! (I'll put a link at the end too)

Warnings I guess? Uh, Sophie goes through a whole panic section at the end. And then the siren lures her and it's indirectly said that she falls off a cliff/whatever and into the water and starts drifting off. Idk how to label that but yeah

Anyways, enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Sometimes, I'm still surprised you keep them," Biana said, gesturing to the various flowers that were in the corner of Sophie's room. "I mean, if you ever want him to look at you differently, you're going to have to make a move. You know that, right?"

Even without saying a name, Sophie knew that she was referring to Fitz. It took a long time until she'd admitted the crush to Biana, who had already known. She always liked keeping the flowers that Fitz gave her, and would keep them for as long as possible. They might not be what she wanted, but she still appreciated the fact that he even gifted the flowers to her in the first place.

"It's not like I've kept them all," Sophie pointed out.

She ignored the fact that the ones that she had thrown away were too old to be kept.

Unfortunately, Biana knew that. "If they didn't wilt so easily, you'd be keeping them all. But you ignored my question. You know that you'll have to make a move, right?"

"Biana, he gave me a yellow rose first. He's the one who made his feelings clear first. What am I supposed to say? Oh yeah, I've had a crush on you for like eight years now, and I never mentioned it before because you've been giving me signs that you clearly see me as a friend? Is that what you want me to tell him?"

Biana shrugged. "When you say it like that…"

"Even if saying that did work, it's not like I'd be able to actually say it. My brain just runs non-stop but then the moment I make eye contact everything just stops."

"Sophie, when has he not been understanding of you?"

That was true. A lot of people didn't take the effort to try and understand Sophie, but Fitz did. The way he was so respectful- despite the fact that it should have been basic decency- was one of the numerous reasons why Sophie loved him.

"I know he'll be understanding, but that's just going to make things even more awkward."

"I guess. Should we go down now?"

"Sure."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Oh, Fitz, you're here! What are you doing?" Sophie asked.

While he did come over often, he was usually busy on Thursdays, which was why Sophie was surprised to see him.

"I'm free this time, so I figured that I'd drop by," he explained.

She liked that he was around for the visit. Working at the shop wasn't boring, but it was more entertaining when she had someone to pass the time with.

He walked closer to her, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Also," he whispered. "I'm making sure that plans for tonight go well."

She glanced at Biana for a moment, who was on her phone. Sophie whispered back. "Your house or mine? I think yours would probably be better."

"What's the movie for tonight? That movie Biana said that she wanted to watch?"

"That's the plan."

"I don't get why you two always get secretive about the birthday movie night," Biana said.

Both Sophie and Fitz spun towards her, and it turned out that she still wasn't looking up from her phone.

"We've been doing this for years ."

"It's the birthday spirit we're trying to achieve, and you know that!" Fitz defended.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The couches at Everglen were really comfortable. It was even more comfortable to be sitting with her friends. The birthday person was often the one who sat in the center, and Sophie smiled as Biana wrapped an arm around her. Occasionally Dex would join them, but he wasn't available this time.

The movie was playing, but they were only somewhat paying attention to what was going on. Sophie paid more attention to the clock, which showed 11:58 p.m. Just two minutes away from midnight, or Biana's birthday. She counted down the seconds, until it was finally time.

"Happy birthday!" she cheered.

"Happy birthday!" Fitz repeated.

"Thanks, both of you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"You'll be fine, right?" Sophie asked.

"Sophie, it's just one day," Edaline said, exasperated. "You don't have to feel bad about taking a day off."

"Tell us how the game goes!" Grady added.

Biana's university team had managed to make it to the finals for volleyball, so Sophie and Fitz planned to go support her. But it also meant that neither of them would be at the shop.

"You'll text me if you need help though, right?"

"Yes, we'll text you. You can leave, it looks like Fitz is waiting for you." Edaline pointed to the entrance, where Fitz was indeed standing.

"Bye mom, bye dad!" she said, before kissing them both on the cheek.

Fitz took her hand as they walked to the car. She concentrated so hard on trying to stop herself from blushing that she didn't realize when they stopped walking.

She'd been pining after Fitz for around eight years, and her feelings had gotten easier to work with. Most of the time, at least. But during the times like this, those feelings that she suppressed would fight to be released. He was casually affectionate, which was great (sometimes she found it hard to initiate the contact, no matter how much she wanted it), but it constantly did things to her heart.

Each time it happened, she had to remind herself that no , he wasn't flirting with her or acting out of romantic interest. That was just how he was.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, let go of his hand, then went in the car. It was silent on the way there, but she needed that silence in order to prepare herself. She took out her headphones once they were almost there.

"Sophie?" Fitz called out.

She responded with a hum.

"You know how it is. If it gets too loud, squeeze my arm."

She hummed again.

Then they arrived, and made their way to the seats. Biana was brilliant on the court, and she seemed to be doing even better than usual. By the end of the game, the cheering got loud, but not bad enough that it hurt. Biana's team had won by a decent amount.

"Congrats, Biana!" Fitz cheered once it was over and they met up.

"It feels unbelievable, because that was the finals? I can't believe we just won!"

"I knew you could do it," Sophie stated.

"I mean yeah, but the other uni was also really good! Guess it wasn't their day, huh?"

"It was definitely your day though," Fitz replied.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hate the fact that horns exist," Fitz groaned.

"What, so you like being hit by blue shells?" Sophie asked.

"Obviously not! But I like hitting you with them!"

"If you're able to get blue shells, it's clear that you aren't good at the game!"

It was game night again, and they were playing the newest version of Mario Kart, a game that was nostalgic to them. They were sitting in Sophie's room this time. Biana wasn't there, as she was busy studying with Dex.

"Look, if you aren't second place all the CPUs are there and you aren't safe," he retorted.

"Then just don't be third place? It's not that hard?"

Somehow, he managed to actually do that, and was quickly approaching her kart. It was the end of the final lap, and he passed her. But she got a red shell, shot him right before the finish line, then won first place.

"Excuse me?" he shouted. "Why do you get the red shells?"

She turned towards him with a smirk, only to be startled by the proximity. All she could see were those teal eyes, and the snarky reply she had planned to make was now forgotten. His eyes were wide, and he seemed to barely be breathing. It felt like time had frozen.

Could she take the risk and close the gap between them?

Should I?

Before she could make up her mind, he turned away, and he even moved slightly further away.

He's keeping his distance…

The realization was a hard blow to her, because that wasn't something he had ever done before. Was he that bothered by it?

"I thought you were good at the game," Fitz teased.

But unless Sophie was imagining it, his tone wasn't as lighthearted as it usually was. She tried to channel the frustration and use it to focus on the game, but she was doing worse. Ninth place. She hadn't scored so low in a while.

"Looks like that was the last game," he pointed out. "I'll head home now."

"Bye, Fitz."

She winced at her voice, because she was doing a terrible job at pretending that she was okay. Once she was sure that he left, she buried her face in her hands and just sat there. What was going on? Was Fitz mad at her? That would be the only reason why he would distance himself like that.

But why? Did she do something wrong? If she knew, she'd try and set things right. But what was she supposed to do?

Even though her room was large, she felt restricted. Too small, too hot, too suffocating. She couldn't breathe.

Her actions after that were a blur. She'd grabbed a sweater and went outside. She walked aimlessly along a path. The area seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't tell where she was.

The wind was cool against her face, the only thing that kept her remotely aware of her surroundings. There may have even been rain too.

Breathe. You need to breathe .

The voice sounded strangely like Fitz's, and it reminded her of when she had a panic attack and Fitz was there to help her. But he wasn't here this time. Was he going to start avoiding her? What about Biana? Did she have a problem with her too? W-

There was a hum, loud and melodic. She looked around for the source.

'Oh you, with that broken heart.'

"Who's there?"

'You, whose life's falling apart.'

Almost as if against her will, her mind replayed the moment of Fitz turning away from her. The rain fell harder, making it harder to see anything except her own imagination.

'Have you come here to the sea,

To drown in your memories?'

If Fitz and Biana were going to distance themselves, what was she going to do? Ten years worth of memories, were they just going to be tossed aside?

'The weight of them is too strong,

Crushing you, it's all so wrong.'

Different memories kept emerging. Her first meeting with Biana. Her first meeting with Fitz. Exchanging flowers with Fitz. Weren't the worst memories the ones that started off good? They were the ones that had you soaring, until you're being dragged towards the ground.

'May the waves wash all the tears,

That you've gathered through the years.'

Sophie knew that she could show her emotions around her friends, but she hated doing it. She had a tendency to suppress her sadness and tears and right now felt like a good time to just let it out.

Very distantly, she could feel herself walking towards the source of the singing.

'But what if there was a way,

To make the pain go away?'

Was that a thing? She hated doubting her friends, it hurt so much. But if she could just not worry, wouldn't that be better? Wouldn't that ease so much of her pain?

'To leave behind your sorrows,

Enter a new tomorrow.'

If tomorrow could come and ease away all of her pain, shouldn't she take that chance? Her foot caught against the ground, and now she was tumbling forward, and fell into the water.

'I have an offer for you,

You can start your life anew.'

The fall was by no means something that snapped her out of her daze, but Sophie found herself slightly more aware. Starting your life anew? Did she want that? Did she want to leave behind the people she loved?

Wasn't that what she worried Fitz was doing? Throwing their love away?

Sophie thought of the memories that they'd shared. It hurt, but they were the best memories that Sophie had. Would it ever be worth it to throw away all those good times just to abandon a potentially bad one?

I want my life , she told herself. I'm happiest with them. But… it's hard.

'You can escape the abyss.'

The voice was so much louder now, and she tried to move away, but her body wouldn't move.

'All I ask is for one kiss.'

She couldn't see, and she could vaguely feel a pair of lips press against her own. She was just drifting, in both her thoughts and the sea. She kept drifting until she could no longer feel anything.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You can find the song here!

Kotlc taglist- @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Just let me know!

#sophie foster #fitz vacker #biana vacker #sokeefitz (eventually)#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #fanfiction #ravi writes a thing #these feelings inside (how deep do they go)

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xanican-exile · 4 years

Note

Interview the Muse

Do all of them

Long post under the cut

- What is your Full name? Include any maiden names, aliases, or nicknames.

”Venix Savreux. My last name is Mornese, I guess that must be where my mother was from. Its a country a bit to the east of Xanica.” - When is your birthday? Do you know where you were born and at what time?

”I’m actually not sure. I know that my birthday is a few weeks before the first snowfalls, but rangers didn’t really have calendars out in the Wyrmswood.”

- What is your star sign? Do you know your Chinese Zodiac too?

“I don’t know what that means.”

- What is your earliest memory that you can remember?

“My... Mother wiping a bloody scrape on my cheek. I’m really young, can’t be more than 4 or 5? It hurts a lot but I won’t let myself cry. Babies cry, but I won’t. She’s chiding me for getting in a fight, especially with two boys that are bigger than me. But I think a little part of her is proud. They were making fun of me for being a whore’s son.”

- Where was your childhood home? Was it more urban or rural?

“I was born in docks quarter of Esklay, one of the big port cities in Xanica.”

- How was your childhood in general? Did your parents treat you well? Did you have a lot of friends?

“My mother and I didn’t have much. She was a whore, no idea who my dad was, and I wasn’t exactly around there long enough to make friends.”

“Things got a lot better when I joined the rangers though.”

- How was/is school? What is your favorite and least favorite subjects? What were your grades on average?

“I didn’t go to school, but I was trained to be a ranger from the time I was... 8, 9? Something like that. I know I was ranked pretty high among the cadets, I was the top in sword skills, but everyone else that would join my pack was better than me in at least one thing.”

- Did you have a best friend growing up? What was their name? Are you still in touch?

“No, no I’m not in contact with any of them. Vex, Rand, Mako, Velite, Ilia. They.. They aren’t around anymore.”

- Were you in any cliques?

“We were encouraged to become close to small groups, they would become our pack once our training was finished.”

- Best childhood memory you can recall?

“The day my pack became full rangers.”

- Worst childhood memory you can recall?

“... My mom dying.”

- Name an event in your childhood that has shaped you into the person you are today

“Probably the day I was found by the rangers. After my mom died I ran from home, didn’t know where I was going, too young to think beyond getting away. I think it was a few weeks of being on my own, barely surviving on scraps. I guess I was going north, because I eventually ended up in the Wyrmswood. I don’t know how, it’s hundreds of miles from where Esklay is on the coast, must have ended up in one of its southernmost reaches. I.. I ended up passing out around a ranger campfire, barely noticing the people watching me. A lot of lost kids, orphans, bastards, and street rats end up as rangers, but I’ve never heard of any others stumbling on them like I did. Its probably happened, Xanica is pretty big, but I’ve never heard of it. Anyway, when I woke up they fed me, tended to my wounds, and teased my story out of me. I remember one of them asking me if I would like to be strong enough to never let something like this happen again. I took his offer without a second thought.”

- What is the dumbest thing you have ever done to impress someone? Were they impressed or was it all for naught?

“I guess there was a couple times when I was still training that I tried to go off on my own, hunt things I wasn’t ready to to impress our masters. Only took a couple beatings before I stopped doing that though.”

- Did you ever have any sweethearts or lovers? Do you have a boy/girlfriend?

“Not really. I’m on the road a lot, going from place to place. I don’t get time to get close to a girl like that. There is this one bard I seem to keep running into though..”

- Are you a virgin?

“No.”

- Do you ever plan on getting married in your life? Do you want kids?

“I’ve.. never really thought about that. I guess no. Having a family or getting married doesn’t sound like something I can do.”

- Would you rather have your own kids or adopt? How many kids would you want?

“I don’t really have a preference, its hard for my to imagine doing either.”

- Do you think you'd be a protective parent or a relaxed parent?

“I don’t think I’d be a very good one.”

- How would you prefer to pass away? Surrounded by loved ones and at peace, or while doing something heroic?

“Definitely fighting. I want whatever takes me down to remember how much of a struggle it was to kill me.”“

- Generally, how healthy are you? Do you get sick or injured easily or are you fit?

“I do everything I can to stay in peak physical condition. Doing otherwise would mean I end up dead in my line of work.”

- Have you ever been badly injured before?

“Several times. You don’t fight monsters for over a decade without collecting a fair share of scars.”

- What is the worst injury you have ever gotten? What was it and how did it happen? Were you ever close to death?

“This one right here. Those three slashes across my chest? Those are from a Wyrmling. Its like a wyvern but flightless and with four legs. I had to hunt one on my own once. Those claws destroyed my armor, but I would have been turned to paste if I hadn’t been wearing it.”

- How many times have you been to the hospital/doctor's?

“I haven’t been to many hospitals. Those are for sick people, but I’ve had to visit a lot of surgeons and healers over the years to get stitched up or have other wounds treated. I’ve never tried counting how many times I’ve been to those.”

- Have you ever had a concussion or brain injury? Have you ever had amnesia?

“I’ve had more than a few concussions, but I don’t think I’ve ever had amnesia or a serious brain injury, thankfully.”

“...I should really get a helmet.”

- What was the worst illness you ever contacted? Do you know what it was? How long were you sick?

“I don’t know what it was, but there was one time that I was stuck in bed for over a week as a child. It happens sometimes to cadets, they weren’t sure I’d survive, but I proved stronger than they expected.”

- Ever had any extended hospital stays? What for?

“Didn’t I already answer this?”

- Have you ever had to give yourself or someone else emergency first aid? What happened?

“Multiple times. Sometimes they lived, sometimes they didn’t.”

- Are you employed? Where do you work and who do you work for? What do you do?

“I guess you could call me a mercenary. Since leaving Xanica I’ve made my living going from place to place dealing with bandits, poachers, and monsters. Once or twice I’ve been hired to stay on a noble’s estates for a season to keep it guarded. Those jobs are boring, but pay best.”

- Are you happy with your current job?

“...No. Most of it is just busywork. I do it because its what I know, because its closest to what I used to do. But I wish I had something more meaningful to use my skills for.”

- Did you have any previous jobs? What were they and what did you do?

“I was raised to be a ranger. Its what I did until leaving Xanica about 2 years ago.”

- Most dangerous thing you have ever done?

“That’s hard to say. I’ve been involved in a lot of dangerous things. The expedition into the Divide might be at the top though.”

- Do you consider yourself a more active person or a more relaxed person?

“Definitely more active. I’m not good at sitting around doing nothing for than a day or so.”

- What is your dream come true? How about your worst nightmare?

“My... My nightmare already happened. My dream would be for my pack to be alive.”

- What is the biggest and most important goal you have set for yourself?

“To never let what happened to the rangers happen to someone else.”

- How persistent would you say you are? How much does it take to get you to give up on a task?

“I’d like to say I don’t give up easy, but I guess I’ve already given in on the stuff that matters.”

- Would you surrender yourself to your enemies or fight to the very end?

“Fight. I won’t run again, not while there is something I can still do.”

- When do you usually do your shopping? What is currently on your shopping list?

“Usually between jobs, or right after I finish one. Right now I need to get myself some new rope, hardtack, my cloak stitched, and a pan for cooking.”

- Top three things on your wishlist?

“Wyvernhide leather cuirass, a pair of those new glyph inscribed boots that resist water, and a warm chocolate mint drink.”

- Currently, what is something you want but do not need?

“A warm chocolate mint drink “

- Do you like shopping? What is your favorite thing to shop for?

“I don’t know if I like shopping, but I don’t dislike it either, its just something I have to do.”

- What is the most expensive thing you have purchased? Was it worth it?

“My mail shirt. Absolutely worth it, saved my life more than once.”

- What would you do if you were suddenly given one billion dollars out of the blue?

“I’m not sure. I don’t really buy a lot of luxuries. Maybe I would purchase a keep or something? A place to winter at when the roads get snowed over.”

- What would you describe your style of clothing as?

“Practical.”

- Do you have any hobbies? Name all of them if you can.

“I can make simple woodcarvings, I play the flute, and I guess I’ve dabbled in falconry.”

- Do you like and appreciate art? What is your favorite piece of artwork?

- Do you like music? What is your favorite style of music?

- Have you ever seen any musicals? What is your favorite?

- What are your top three favorite animals? What would you say your "Patronus" or "Spirit Animal" is?

“Eagles, Hawks, and Bears. Most rangers would probably say our spirits are most like wolves.”

- What are your top three favorite colors?

“Red, white, and I guess yellow or amber, though that last one is really just with eye colors.”

- What is your favorite season? Do you prefer hotter or colder weather? Do you like snow at all?

“Spring. I can’t stand the snow, it makes it easier to be tracked, and the work always slows down during the winter.”

- What kind of flavors do you prefer: Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Spicy, Dry, or Umami (savory meat taste)?

“Savory is my favorite. I’m not really a fan of sweets aside from fruits. I like mint a lot as well, but I don’t know what that falls under.”

- Can you cook at all?

“Yes. Everyone in the pack took turns cooking. So we all got pretty good at it.”

- What is your favorite dish? Can you prepare it? Do you have the recipe handy?

“I don’t know if I have a favorite, but I do like going to new places and trying their foods.”

- What is your favorite fruit and vegetable?

“Strawberries and onions.”

- What is your favorite dessert? What is your favorite type of candy/treat?

“Choclate is just about the only sweet I enjoy.”

- What is the best thing you have ever had the opportunity to eat? What is the worst?

“Xanican haggis is always a treat.”

- Do you like to drink tea or coffee? Any favorite flavors?

“Both are good, as I said earlier I like mind a lot.”

- Describe your sense of humor.

“Sarcasm.”

- What is one thing you are justly proud of?

“My skill with a sword. I’ve always been good with a blade. The best of all the rangers in my age group.”

- Do you have any religious beliefs? If not, have you ever been to a church service?

“Everyone pays respect to the gods, but I wouldn’t say I’m really religious. I’ve had to go to a few services when going to priest or nun healers. They usually make that their payment.”

- What would you say is the worst thing someone has done to you? What is the meanest thing someone has ever said to you?

"Tricking my pack into helping stoke the fires of a civil war and then getting them all killed. Anything that’s been said to me doesn’t even come close to that.”

- What is the worst thing you have done to someone? What is the meanest thing you have said to anyone?

“I’m not really sure. I tend not to talk much unless I have something really worth saying, insults are usually not worth the effort.” “Worst thing I’ve ever done to someone is definitely kill them. I’ve had to kill quite a few people.”

- Share the latest entry in your diary/journal.

“I can’t write.”

- What is the most precious thing you own? Is it valuable at all?

“Garmr. My sword. Over a thousand years old. I’ve heard some people say that its worth a kingdom, I wouldn’t know, and I don’t plan to sell it.”

- Talk about someone you know. It can be someone you either like or dislike.

“Rubio. He’s just a kid, got a lot of heart but a chip on his shoulder too. He’s had a rough start to his life, and I’m hoping to teach him a few things so he can make the rest of it better.”

#divinefellblood

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #437

“you get what you pray for / you don’t get anything”

Do you tell your mom and dad everything? No. Who was the last person you talked about something that was bothering you with? Most likely my mom. What’s your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. Who did you last share a taxi with? I've never been in a taxi. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I've never done drugs, but the first time I drank was actually an accident. I'd come in from a long, hot walk, and I desperately needed water, and Mom offered me what I thought was just pink lemonade. Turns out it was a Mike's Hard Lemonade and I CHUGGED it before everyone around me was like "NOOOO!" because it was alcohol lmaooo. If you were far from home and needed to sleep for the night, would you choose to rent a crappy motel room for $60 or sleep in your car for free? I'm sleeping in my car. I'm afraid of things like bed bugs. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? I don't think so? Have you ever rolled off your bed in your sleep? Pretty sure no. What is your favourite planet? Saturn! Do you enjoy Mario games? Not really, honestly. They're just not my style. Mario Kart is fun every now and again, though. What flavor fruity drink is your favorite? Strawberry, in most cases. Ever done a keg stand? No. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you have any health problems that are unusual for your age? I have carpal tunnel in my wrists from typing so much, but I'm not sure how "unusual" that is for young adults nowadays... I feel like there's something else, but it's evading me right now. Do you bite your nails? No, I pick/peel at them. :x What’s the longest nap you’ve ever taken? Oh god, hours. To the point it no longer really qualifies as a "nap." When people ask you about school, what is your usual response? Do you enjoy talking about school? Why or why not? I get all awkward and just reply that I gave it numerous shots, but my mental health couldn't handle it. I hate talking about school because I feel like a failure. Do you know how to fill a car’s tire with air? Have you ever had to do it? No to both. Do you like your best friend’s parents? Why or why not? Omg I LOVE them. They are spectacular people with massive hearts. I especially am drawn to her dad, whom I find incredibly inspiring. Both her parents are just great. I miss 'em. What do you like in your hot cocoa - marshmallows, whipped cream, candy canes? Do you even like hot cocoa? I loooove hot chocolate. I really just prefer it plain, but you can toss a few marshmallows in there. Which do you have a problem with: over-eating or under-eating? I'm way more likely to over-eat than under-eat. A girl likes her food lmao. The last boy you kissed, good-looking? He's by no means ugly, but I wasn't physically attracted to him personally. Do you love him? Not romantically, but definitely platonically. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. When was the last time you were given flowers? Ummm... I want to say the last time was many years ago when Tyler visited for the first time when we started dating. What do you want to name your children? I don't want kids. But hypothetically, Alessandra and probably Damien. Would you ever write a letter to someone you haven’t met yet, like your future spouse? No. I'd probably get too emotional anyway. Do you carry a mirror in your purse? No. Do you believe that there is beauty in everything? I've always thought this was such a stupid idea that tries to make reason out of life and its tragedies. Like yeah, cancer, rape, murder, etc. are definitely "beautiful." There is absolutely no beauty in a vast plethora of things. The first time you smoked, did you cough like a fool? I've never smoked before. When you were younger, did you have a Neopets account? Oh, yes. I loooooved Neopets, but not quite as much as Webkinz. I've actually remade a Neopetz account multiple times because I'd forget my info, ha ha... Who was the last person you got in a fist fight with? I've never been in a physical fight. Did you and your mom ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? Not "move out," no. We did, however, have a fight where I stayed with Dad for I want to say a week, maybe a bit less. Do you dislike anyone? Why? Well, yes. I don't know anyone who doesn't dislike somebody. There are a few people, in my case, that I'm not going to spend time going through and pointing out what I don't like. Do you think you will be in a relationship 2 months from now? No. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? Like constantly. Does your animal sleep with you? Roman usually does, yeah. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? No. Mom has those in photo albums. What kind was the last chip you ate? I want to say traditional Lays? It was at my nephew's bday party. Do you eat onion rings? No, I'm not a fan. What was the last thing to disgust you? I think it was some thumbnail I saw on YouTube, even though it was (weakly) blurred. Where do you see your ex in 5 years? "The" ex, I don't want to think about it. Probably somewhere great for him, but would break my heart if I knew. Do your parents swear? Dad swears big time, while Mom tries to hold it back. You won't hear her say something like "fuck" unless she is SERIOUSLY upset. Do you ever drink warm milk? Warm milk sounds literally disgusting. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? No. I literally just came back from my break from it, so it'd be more funny than anything. The universe's way of telling me "nah, son." Who do you know that wears the most makeup? My friend Summer, but then again she's a cosmetologist. Have you ever had bronchitis? No, thankfully. Jason had it BAD once and I will neeever forget that cough, good Lord. Do you like to wear makeup? I hate applying it more than anything. Like, I love that it can help me feel prettier, but I pretty much never wear it because it's just a pain to put on, especially by myself because I have bad tremors in my hands. How many times have you been to the ER? Way too many times for being suicidal. How often do you feel lonely? Honestly, pretty much always. When are you most uncomfortable? I dunno, man. I'm always uncomfortable about one thing or another. Has anyone ever revealed a secret about you? Not that I remember... Have you ever revealed anyone else’s secret? No, that is such a shitty thing to do. Have you ever had a family member/friend that was hospitalized? Yes. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? No. Is there anything you want to experiment with? I mean, nothing that quickly comes to mind. There are things I want to try, but nothing major. What do you hope happens to you after you die? Mixed feelings. Sometimes I hope there's some sort of nirvana-like state we experience, I think it'd be wonderful to be reunited with loved ones, but I also sometimes think it'd be best if we just... stopped existing. Consciousness just stops. I dunno. I'll find out eventually. What is the most disgusting thing you have seen in person (not on TV)? Probably a maggot-infested deer corpse that I faintly remember from where I used to live. I thought it was the sickest thing ever lmao, in both senses. What is something others make fun of you for? Always holding some sort of technology. Just don't fucking comment on it. It makes me self-conscious as hell. Is your life turning out like you pictured it would? QUITE THE FUCKING OPPOSITE. Do your initials spell out a word? No. Has anyone ever given you roses? Yeah. Last baby you held? My older sister's youngest daughter. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsman? My aforementioned sister's. What is something you would never do to your body? I mean, there's a large number of things. There are certain piercings and tattoos I wouldn't dare to get, I plan on taking care of my hair as best I can to avoid ruining it despite wanting to dye it a lot... *shrug* Stuff like that. How are you planning to decorate your house for Halloween? I don't know if we'll decorate. We haven't really for a few years now... I don't have the motivation to do it myself, and now that it's just me and her and I'm grown up (I know, I'm laughing too), Mom doesn't really bother with doing it. I know I DO want to carve pumpkins this year, though. Dunno what, but I'll figure it out. Ever lived in a trailer park? No. Do you like salsa that has fruit in it? NOOOOOOOOOOO Can you count in binary? No. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? I'll eat both, but I have a strong preference for soft ones. When was the last time someone kissed you on the cheek? Who was it? I'm sure that was either my niece of nephew when I was leaving their house when I last visited for Ryder's birthday. What kind of ice cream did you eat last? Where’d you get it from? It was chocolate. I had a scoop at the aforementioned birthday party. Do you like flowers? What is your favorite kind to receive? I love flowers. I don't have a favorite to receive, really. Have you ever unblocked someone that you blocked before? Yes. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? I like to be pretty similar. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No. I don't fuck with that, even for that much money. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? He wants nothing to do with me. Do you think it is okay to drive while high? Obviously not...? Do you find Halloween or Valentine’s Day more exciting? Halloween. Has anyone you know ever had serious surgery before? Yeah; my mom immediately comes to mind in both instances she had cancer. When she had kidney cancer, the tumor was larger than the kidney itself, and she lost the entire organ. When she had ovarian cancer, she had to have a complete hysterectomy because the cancer was EVERYWHERE along her reproductive system to an almost fatal degree. My mom's pretty metal. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? No, because that's a violation of privacy? You don't do that shit. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not, have you ever came close to? Yes. The only time that I remember was maaaany years ago, like, maybe '14. I've nearly fainted plenty of times since then for various reasons, but mostly just from low blood pressure. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in that class or how you used to before you took the class? Yes; I believe one course was mandatory in middle school. I type the proper way, yeah. Ever cut your hair (the entire thing – not just the bangs or a little part) yourself? Noooo. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? Well, I'd like to be a freelance photographer, but to be real, I'm starting to loosen up on that dream. It's been too long, I just don't see it happening anymore. Baby steps are one thing, but I've barely managed any of those in forever. Ever meet and talk to someone from an online dating site? No. Would you date someone you weren’t physically attracted to? Why or why not? Yes; I've done it before. I just care way more about emotional chemistry. Besides, historically, me liking someone for their heart has made each person a lot more attractive to me as a whole. Last person to hang up on you? I dunno. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Blair Witch Project. The second one is great, too, plus The Crazies. Which urban legend is your favourite? Oh man, you can't ask me this. I LOVE cryptids and conspiracies 'n shit. Are any of your fears completely irrational? Yes, like whale sharks. A whale shark ain't gonna hurt u boo but I see that mouth and am like no thnx Where is the light switch in your room? Funnily enough, I don't have a light switch; there isn't a ceiling light in this room. I instead have two table lamps that I can turn on on either side of my bed. Would you make a good lawyer? Hell no, I cry when I argue lmao. It's funny tho because I remember in TWO instances, in-depth surveys recommending jobs for you brought up me being a lawyer, and each time I was just like,,,,, no???????? Why did your family decide to live where you’re living now? It was more necessity than anything. Our old house had a LOT of issues to it, and with Mom's cancer diagnosis, she needed the cleanest environment possible, and that was NOT our old place. The house we live in now is owned by a family friend, and when the previous owner died, the timing just... kinda worked out to where that family friend I mentioned helped us pay our way into here. We really don't like this place because of the location, but it had to work. What was the best pet you've ever had? All things considered, I have to hand it to my boy Teddy. That dog was someone special. Very, very special. If you were allowed one murder without punishment, would you do it? Nah. Name one song you can play on an instrument, any instrument! I can probably still slam out "Hot Cross Buns" on a recorder. \m/ Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? Noooo, I'm scared to. On the opposite sex, do you prefer muscles, average size, or scrawny bodies? It depends on the person, ig. I can be attracted to any of those. Just not EXTREME muscle. Not my thing at all.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

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looking-for-another-world · 5 years

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Not Alone

summary: Bucky spends Christmas alone at the compound. Or nah?

pairing: Bucky x reader

warnings: 18+, tiny bit of angst, mentions of family toxicity, cursing, explicit smut, dirty talk, like one allusion to reader being plus-sized, soft!bucky, really sappy - you have been warned

words: 6321

a/n: This is my entry for @honeyhan-123‘s HOLIDAY SPIRIT WRITING CHALLENGE. I had the prompt “Finding the perfect Christmas tree / decorating it” and looking back, I might have slightly diverted from that oops. This was so much fun to do though. This is literally my first finished piece of writing in years, so be nice to me, ok? Right, tmi. Anyways, this has gotten way out of hand in terms of how many words I wanted to write. I might make 3 separate files of it when I’m in the mood to figure out links, but for now here’s the entire fic in one. Enjoy! Also, I hope your 2020 is going to be amazing ❤💫🥂🎆

Prologue

As soon as Bucky stepped into the kitchen of the Avengers compound, his super soldier senses made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something’s wrong.

It was Dec 23, one day before Christmas Eve, and everyone except him had gone away for the holidays. Clint was visiting Laura and the kids, accompanied by Natasha (apparently, the boys had been nagging their mom for a solid 2 months whether Aunt Tasha would be staying with them), Wanda and Vision were traveling around Europe, Tony had taken Pepper to some little island in the Caribbean Sea, and Steve and Sam had booked a cozy, remote cabin in the woods to go skiing, hiking, getting drunk (well, Sam at least) and most importantly, getting away from being the Avengers for a few days.

Initially, Steve had Friday book the trip for three persons, but Bucky had refused. This was the first Christmas since many years that he was starting to remember who he was, really was, and although Steve was pretty much everything he considered home, he had preferred to spend Christmas where he actually came from.

In the end, Steve had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to push his best friend, but insisting that they at least spoke to one another on the phone every day. And so, Bucky had spent his day wandering the streets of Brooklyn for hours, fulfilling his best friend duty on his way home and telling Steve how much everything had changed and yet, strangely, still felt familiar. He could hear Steve smile through the phone; he felt the same. That’s when Sam had burst through the door of the hut, screeching “All I want for Christmas is you” next to Steve’s ear and ruining the moment. Steve had said his goodbye, leaving to stop Wilson from inhaling another bottle of Eggnog, and Bucky had wished him good luck with the bird brain. He returned to the compound, more mentally than physically exhausted, and headed straight to the kitchen, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t eaten something in hours. And there it was: A small puddle of water on top of the counter, as if someone had taken something out of the fridge and put it there for a moment. Only that there was no one to do that. He was supposed to be alone.

It couldn’t have been him: his soldier and assassin training had left him with an urge to leave everything neat and tidied; no traces. Silently, he made his way back into the hallway, calling the elevator and going two levels down, to the first level that was officially “Avengers territory”. Going back up, he searched every floor without coming across anything suspicious. And then, as the doors of the elevator opened to the 18th floor with a slight swoosh, he sensed it: There’s someone else on this level. He tensed up. His super soldier hearing going into overdrive, he snuck along the dimly-lit corridor until he heard them: sounds coming from the last room to the left, the entertainment room, stacked up with books, movies, consoles, a pool table, anything you could think of to pass your free time. He tried to hear more intently. The person on the other side of the door barely produced sounds; all he could make out was their shallow breathing. Someone with a normal hearing wouldn’t even have caught up on it.

Bucky conjured up a blueprint of the room: even if he could get through the door unnoticed, there was no place to hide. The whole design of the room practically screamed: “Look who’s coming!” His only advantage was the element of surprise. Trying to calm down his nerves, he took a few deep breaths and braced himself. Not wanting to have his arms in a position he could easily be taken hold of in, he stepped back, raised his right leg and kicked the door down, storming inside, met by a piercing scream and a loud splash as the bucket of ice cream you had been holding met the ground.

“(Y/N)?!”

“What the hell?!”

“Why are you here?”

“I fucking live here in case you haven’t noticed! Why are you kicking the goddamn door down like I’m some HYDRA agent trying to slit your throat?”

“Because-”, Bucky stops, guilt washing over him. Guilt and anger with himself. Even HYDRA wouldn’t be so dumb as to blow their cover like that, and they’d do a bit more than get the kitchen counter dirty if they wanted to make their presence known. “Because I thought you were one.” His voice is low now, almost a whisper, his eyes unable to meet yours, fingers fumbling with the hem of the coat he didn’t have time to take off. And seeing him like this, you understood: He thought someone had intruded.

You let out the breath you were holding. “I’m sorry, Buck. I wasn’t thinking. I should have let you know about my change of plans and that I’d be spending Christmas at the compound.”

His ears perked up at that. “You are? I thought you were going to visit your family.” You smiled sadly and now that his mind and body weren’t overtaken by adrenaline anymore, he took in your state for the first time. You looked pale, your eyes red-rimmed, like you had been crying. You were wrapped in the navy-blue blanket twice your size that Wanda had given you for your birthday. It went all the way down to your ankles where the legs of your sweatpants were peeping through, showing just a small stripe of skin before the fabric of a pair of green fuzzy socks covered your skin again. The ice cream you had dropped started melting on the ground, slowly dampening part of the expensive rug the pool table stood on, which you didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?”

You let out a mixture between a snort and an unconvincing laugh. “I talked to my mom on the way to the airport. She started complaining about how much I’ve been letting them down this year, bringing up things I didn’t even think were an issue anymore, and how she hoped I would pull myself together this time, for the sake of Christmas and our family. So, I figured I’d probably have a more fun time being alone in my room and sleeping for like 2 weeks than I’d have being with them.” The last part was meant to sound casually, but Bucky didn’t miss the twitch of your lips and how your eyes started to gloss over again. He wanted to say something to comfort you, but his mind didn’t know where to start and so he just kept staring at you wordlessly, which you took as a sign of annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you with that shitty Christmas music or candy or anything of that kind. I’m not gonna ruin your alone time. Just pretend I’m not here.”

He frowned at that, then, and as his tongue still seemed to be tied, he did the only thing he felt was appropriate: He put your arms around you and hugged you, hard, all-consuming. “I’m not worried you’re going to ruin my alone time. I like having you around. I’m sorry your family are like that, when they’re the ones letting you down.”

You’d liked to reply to that, thank him for his sweet words, but you were sure you’d start crying again the second you stopped biting down on your lip. So you reciprocated the hug as best as you could; after all you were lacking Bucky’s strength. Bucky squeezed you shortly and let go, and when your eyes locked again, you couldn’t help but mirror his warm smile. Jesus, this guy certainly made you feel things. No surprise you were crushing on him so hard.

“We’d better clean this up”, Bucky said gesturing to the now empty ice bucket head and your eyes widened as you noticed the mess you’d made. “Shit!”. Tony had spent an insane amount of money on that carpet, even for his proportions. He’d shoot you to the moon for that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Bucky jogged back to the elevator, returning a minute later with a wet cloth and a roll of kitchen towels which he handed to you. Getting to work, you suddenly became aware of how much closer than usually you two were. You could smell Bucky’s aftershave – something resembling cedarwood – watch the muscles in his arms flex as he tried to rid the fabric of its B&J make-over, study the stubble on his perfectly sculpted jaw, his hazelnut locks, his plump lips. Oh god, his lips. Just thinking about having those lips kiss every inch of your body got you worked up. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!

“So you’re really planning on skipping Christmas? It’s your favorite holiday”, Bucky interrupted your thoughts, shooting you a glance to see you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t want to see my parents right now, and I can’t imagine celebrating Christmas on my own. So yeah, guess I’ll be taking a break from it this year.”

“You’re not on your own, though. You’re with me. We can celebrate.”

You felt a pleasantly warm sensation in your stomach which you tried to ignore, quirking an eyebrow at him instead. “You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate all of it, I hate what it’s become. I hate that most people care more about what useless shit is in their stockings or under the tree than about who they’re spending their time with. I hate how every shop starts putting up Christmas stuff before it’s even October. They don’t even call it “Christmas” anymore. I mean seriously, xmas? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Despite yourself, a small giggle escaped you at how upset he could get about it all and realizing he had started ranting without wanting to, Bucky had to stifle a laugh as well. "Point I’m trying to make is ” he concluded “I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with the right company.”

Oh, and that’s supposed to be me? Right company?“, you shot back. "Sure thing, doll. You’re like an expert on Christmas, I can’t go wrong with you. Also, I like having you around. ” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve already said that, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, you have. But that’s okay, I like hearing it”, you laughed, your hand briefly touching his arm. You were becoming kind of needy, it appeared. Bucky didn’t seem to mind though, or at least he didn’t let it show.

Looking down, you noticed with an internal sigh of relief that the ice cream puddle had given way to the water and the kitchen towels. All that was left was a wet patch that would hopefully disappear overnight.

“Guess that’s as good as it gets”, you joked. “Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s the least I could do, after scaring the shit out of you.” He took the dirty towels from you. “Guess we’re Christmas buddies then” he grinned. It was surprising how excited he seemed to be all of a sudden, but you didn’t let yourself linger on that thought. “Well, as the official Christmas ambassador, I have to let you know that this place sucks. There’s not even decorations.”

That was true. The past weeks had been incredibly hectic, even more than in previous years, and since almost everyone would be gone over the holiday season anyway and Bucky had emphasized several times that having the tower turn into Santa’s village would most likely lift his dinner, rather than his spirits, Tony hadn’t bothered to put up decorations.

Bucky gave you an amused look. “I see you’re getting into it. Alright, what do we need?”

“You mean, like everything?”

“Yeah, like the ideal setting. Can’t be that difficult.”

You gave him a sceptical look. “Oh no, not at all. We just need the decorations, music, candy, ugly Christmas sweaters, stuff to bake cookies, a firepla-”

“Okay, okay, I take it back.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “This is too much. What’s the most important thing?”

“The tree”, you replied without thinking. “The tree is the most important, to me at least. When my dad used to tell me he’d be bringing the Christmas tree home tonight, I’d spend all day glued to the window of my room, waiting for his car to steer into the driveway. It’s the one thing we ever did as a family, all three of us, decorating the tree. Everything else would be pretty much Mum and me, since Dad would be out working. The tree is … it just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without it.”

Inadvertedly, your brain had walked down memory lane to pictures of baubles in gold and red and purple and every color of the rainbow, mingled with the scent of fir and your dad’s bass voice singing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” to you while you were sitting on your lap, and suddenly another wave of sadness hit you and you had to fight back the tears that were starting to well up again. You swallowed thickly before looking back at Bucky and were met with an understanding look. He had noticed your struggle but chose not to bring it up again and you were grateful for that. Grateful for him.

There were a few beats of silence before the super soldier offered you a tentative smile and said: “So Christmas tree is your final answer?” Another giggle.

"That’s my final answer.”

Part 1

You woke up to a sky the color of granite. Gloomy light and heavy clouds. Your heart jumped a little in your chest at the prospect of another downfall of snow. What’s Christmas without snow, right? Too comfortable to get up right away, you snuggled back into your pillow and let your mind wander.

It was embarrassing, really, but thinking about spending the whole day with Bucky filled you with a mix of anticipation and nervousness you usually felt before first dates. Prior to your job interview last February, you had spent hours and hours hooked up on research about the people you might soon be working with – the fucking Avengers! -, but Bucky’s story, or at least what was known of it to the public, had fascinated and moved you the most. It was hard for you to wrap your head around how someone could endure the most appalling things you could possibly imagine, and that for decades. Someone like the ex-Winter Soldier could barely be human anymore, filled to the brink with hatred and disgust for the world and the people in it, that you were sure of. And then, when you got the job and got to know him – he was the exact opposite. Sure, he was careful and hard to read, especially at the beginning, but he was kind. He was funny. He was emphatic. He was a nerd. He was sweet. And when you moved in to the tower and the two of you spent more time together, your feelings towards him grew stronger, and you found yourself imagining waking up next to him, his lips on yours the first thing you taste in the morning. Cupping his cheek and watching his eyes crinkle when he flashes you his million-dollar smile. Stroking his hair while he reads his favorite passages out to you or rambles about how all the things he’s just discovering now are not quite as good as what they had back in the days, but some of them are not bad. Being pressed down by his weight as you get to explore all of his gorgeous body and find out what sounds he makes when he’s buried in you, filling you up, making you feel so good as you’re begging him not to stop because he’s hitting just the right spot and you never want to let go of him, so good, please Bucky, please don’t stop, oh God, I’m so close baby, fuck…

The loud buzzing of your phone jerked you out of your trance and made you sit up straight in your bed, your heartbeat thumping in your ears, cheeks heated, fingers you didn’t even remember putting there coated in your arousal. Breathing heavily, you stretched your neck to see who the caller was: Mum. Oh, hell no. In a sudden burst of resurging anger, you declined the call, threw your phone away from you and let yourself fall back against the headboard with an audible huff.

Finishing the job wasn’t going to happen after yesterday’s events started rolling in, so you forced yourself out of bed and into the shower, washing away the heat of your little daydream with water as cold as you could bear. Putting moisturizer on, you focused your thoughts on today. If Bucky still wanted to help setting up everything for Christmas, they should get started as soon as possible. An actual Christmas tree was a bit too much to ask obviously, but maybe they could find a fake one and some funny tree ornaments to go along with it? Sweaters shouldn’t be that much of a problem either, they practically threw them in your face around this time of the year. And the Christmas music could easily be taken care of by Spotify.

You started listing the essential ingredients for three or four kinds of Christmas cookies in your head when you left your room to get breakfast. Closing the fridge door, you tried to decide where and in which order to go to get everything you needed on time (or should you split up?) when you noticed the yellow, blue, pink and green dots on the cold metal surface, dancing around in a carefully studied rhythm like colorful fireflies. Frowning, you turned around.

The huge panorama windows were decorated with beautifully woven ice flowers up to almost half of their height and framed by several strings of Christmas lights, cheerfully blinking against the grey sky outside and bathing the living room area in a colorful hue. Now that you stepped closer, the living room looked different as well. The couches and armchairs were covered under thick and fluffy-looking plaids and pillows with different Christmas-themed motives; a very kind looking Santa Claus on one, a couple of reindeer holding cups of Eggnog and singing “Jingle Bells” on another and the slogan “Tis the season” in as much glitter as could be fitted on so small a space emblazoned on a third. There were decorations, too: a nutcracker next to the tv, an angel’s choir holding candles on one of the couch tables, a snowman, a sledge, a rocking horse, a squirrel in a scarf… You couldn’t even decide where to look first. Too preoccupied to take everything in, you didn’t notice Bucky’s presence until he cleared his throat. “Do you like it?” You turned around to meet him, dumbfounded and still trying to understand what was going on, even more so when you saw the sweater he was wearing: fir green and depicting a penguin wearing a Christmas hat. You let out an incredulous laugh. “Did- did you do all this?”

Bucky lowered his gaze briefly and gave you a sheepish smile. “Pretty much, yeah. I’d hoped you’d sleep in. Gave me enough time to set everything up.” Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find words. “I-“ “Wait!” he interrupted. “There’s more.” He outstretched a slightly shaking hand and seeing that you didn’t respond, hastily withdrew it. Finally though, your body and mind seemed to have rebooted, and you grabbed his hand with both of yours. It felt hot against yours, hot and slightly raw. Bucky shot a surprised look from your intertwined hands to your face and you could’ve sworn that his cheeks blushed slightly. Is this even real?

Squeezing your hands slightly, he walked past you and into the living room, pulling you with him. Around the corner, out of your line of sight, there was a slightly smaller lounging area with the best stereo sound system Tony could get his hands on and without tv, designed for the numerous occasions you fancied actually spending time with each other and being able to face each other when chatting or playing games instead of just staring at a huge screen in unison. Now though, the bean bags had been moved to the side and in the center of the room stood – a tree. Not just any tree, but a fir tree about 10 or 11 feet high, almost filling up the room with its size and emanating that unmistakable scent that always took you back to fond Christmas memories. Next to it, on the ground and on several of the bean bags Bucky had piled up a seemingly endless number of boxes containing Christmas baubles of all sorts, ranging from the traditional ones to typical Christmas motives, Disney characters, and even the most absurd things such as very small-sized fruits and vegetables.

You couldn’t remember when your heart had last felt so light and full. If Bucky’s hand hadn’t anchored you, you might have just floated up through the ceiling and into the sky. And why not? Who knew what else might be possible after all this had felt so much like a dream already? Giving yourself no time to think about overstepping boundaries and the like, you threw yourself into Bucky’s arms, feeling rather than noticing his strong arms instantly enveloping your frame. “Thank you.” Your voice was muffled because you had buried your face in the crook of his neck and because you were close to crying again. Sensing your state, Bucky started tracing soothing patterns on your lower back and mimicking his movements, your hands started stroking his broad shoulders. “My pleasure, doll.”

He held you like that for several moments, lightly swaying to and fro, taking deep breaths with you. And after a while, when you’d quieted down a bit, you noticed that not only your heart threatened to jump out of your chest; Bucky’s heart beat a lot faster as well, hammering against his ribcage so much that you could almost feel it against yours. You drew back a little so you could see his face and were met with a look you’d never seen on him before, a look that went straight to your groin. His hands tightened on your back, like he was afraid to let you go, and your nose lightly brushed his. And just as you were about to close your eyes… his phone rang.

The noise startled you so much that you jumped in his arms and Bucky let out an audible sigh. “That’ll be Steve. Be right back.” With that, he let go of you to grab his cell from the kitchen and you felt like someone had just emptied a bucket of ice water over you and snapped you back to reality. More than that, you did feel cold. Had your body grown used to the heat radiating off him so quickly? Also, and that was the most important: What the fuck did just happen?

Bucky returned about 10 minutes later and found you in almost the same spot where he’d left you, now sitting awkwardly on one of the empty bean bags, desperately trying to regain composure. His heart still fluttered from being so close to you, and as he wanted this day to be anything but awkward, he’d spent a good 7 of those 10 minutes away thinking about how to proceed. In a manner he hoped would come across as relaxed, he sauntered over to the closest bean bag and picked up one the boxes filled with baubles. “Soooo”, why was his voice so squeaky? “let’s get started, shall we?”

He couldn’t see your heart slightly sink in your chest because the magical moment had officially passed of course; he just had eyes for the warm smile you offered him in return. “Sure.” You got up to take hold of one the boxes as well when he remembered something. “Hang on.” You raised your head and could make out something slightly mischievous in his orbs. “I won’t be the only one wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.”

—

4 hours later, any sign of awkwardness or discomfort between the two of you had officially gone to the wind. As instructed, you’d put on the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find (an awful mix of pink and gold in the shape of a Christmas elf with actual bells that jingled whenever you moved), Bucky had put on some music and you’d gone about your business. At some point (probably after your fourth cup of cocoa with rum and Bucky’s third pint of Asgardian mead he’d snatched from Thor’s quarters), you decided to forego any sense of aesthetics and just put up as many ornaments as would fit on the tree. As a result, it now looked as if the slightest gust of wind would make it collapse on the spot, but you two were oddly proud of your work. Taking cocoa and mead with you, you decided to have a small break and moved over to the living room area.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence, Sinatra softly buzzing in the background. Then, out of the blue, Bucky asked you to tell him your favorite joke. You were too tipsy to question how he’d come up with that, so you pondered his request for a moment and then answered. “I hate Russian dolls. They’re so full of themselves.”

Bucky sat up on his spot of the couch and gave you an odd stare that made you wonder whether he’d understood you at all, and then burst out of laughter, almost spilling his drink in the process and making you laugh in return. You’d never really heard his laugh, just the occasional snort when he deemed something worthy of a reaction, but this was a sound made from the gods themselves and you could listen to it all day, every day, for the rest of your life.

Slowly, his fit came down to a low, melodious chuckle. “Honestly doll, sometimes I want to kiss you all over.” “Don’t hold back.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you could stop them. They didn’t remotely sound as teasing or nonchalant as you had meant them to. They sounded sincere, almost desperate. Because they were. And suddenly, as you watched Bucky’s expression falter, you felt remarkably sober again. Oh god.

Part 2

Carefully, Bucky stood up, moved over and sat down next to you. “Are you serious about this, (Y/N)?”

Heat crept up your skin, all the way from the swells of your breasts to your ears. You’d honestly never felt that put on the spot. Unable to answer, your gaze fixed the carpet, hoping that if you stared long enough, maybe it would do you a favor and swallow you whole. Bucky was now less than inch from you, close enough for you to smell his shampoo, his breath fanning the side of your face, making things only worse for you. Your heart sank deeper and deeper until you could feel it in your stomach, heavy like a rock. This day had been going so well. Why did you have to ruin it with your stupid inebriated brain? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then you felt his flesh hand cup your face, softly turning your head to meet his eyes. Those beautiful, cerulean eyes. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you.” Frowning, you shook your head, your synapses refusing to process that bit of information. You swallowed several times before you found your voice again. “Please don’t mess with me, Bucky”, you heard yourself whisper, at which Bucky violently shook his head. “I promise.” And then his lips were on yours and you kissed him back.

It started out innocently enough, slow, tentative kisses, allowing the other to back out in case they changed their mind. Only that he didn’t back out like you thought he would. And you didn’t back out like he thought you would. Realizing how effortlessly your mouths pressed against each other, how right his lips felt on yours, you gradually grew bolder. You turned slightly to mirror his position and your hands went up to his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and jaw before carding through the silky strands of his locks at the back of his neck. One hand in his hair, you let the other explore more of his body as you felt up his biceps, his back, his chest abs. A content hum escaped his throat which only spurred you on. One hand in his hair and one bunching up the fabric covering his chest, you pressed yourself closer to him. His grip on your face tightened as he opened his mouth and his tongue caressed your bottom lip. Greedily, you welcomed him in your mouth and let out a deep sigh as your tongues met for the first time and the two of you fought for dominance over the other.

Bucky’s hands wandered down your body to the hem of your shirt and his lips soon followed suit. You let out a whimper when he sucked at the sensitive skin of your pulse point, determined to mark you. You’d never really liked hickeys, but this was different. You wanted everyone to see, see what had happened between the two of you. While your hands tangled in his hair, his slowly made their way under the fabric of your sweater, exploring the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your belly, cool on your right side, burning on your left.

It was so much more than you’d ever dreamed of, almost too much to bear, and yet his touches only made you more impatient, more needy, more desperate to have him. “Bucky…” It was barely more than a sigh, but Bucky’s head shot up at the sound and his eyes met yours. “What’s it, sweetheart? Talk to me” You took a moment to take him in, tracing his glistening bottom lip with your thumb. “I need you.” Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “I need you too, doll. So much. That’s why I’m so scared of messing up with you.” You took his face in your hands again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes closing at the sensation. “There’s no way in hell you can mess up with me, James. Don’t hold back. Take me.” Bucky let out a shuddering breath. “Please.”

It was like a switch had been flicked. Bucky leapt forward and buried you under his weight, making you sink into the soft cushions. Kissing you even more passionately than before, he positioned himself between your legs. The bulge in his pants now clearly noticeable, he started grinding down on you and the friction made you pool with lust. You let out an audible groan that made Bucky’s cock twitch. Steadying himself with his metal hand, he clumsily lifted your shirt up your body with his right hand so the fabric bunched up over your breasts. Eager to assist, you arched your back to unclasp your bra and pulled it up as well. Bucky’s hand immediately reached out to palm the newly exposed skin while his tongue darted out to massage your already swollen buds. He went from left to right and right to left, making you stick your chest out as much as you could, before suddenly taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking greedily on it. You cried out in pleasure and his dark eyes went to scan your face, lip drawn in between your teeth, eyes pressed shut, your breathing getting heavier by the minute. Too mesmerized by the sight of you, he didn’t notice your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair move from his back to the front of his pants until you massaged his erection through the fabric, running your palm up and down his impressive bulge. He let go of your breast to take a deep breath and used his right hand to feverishly rub your clothed pussy, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to slow down. “Don’t want to finish off like that. Need you inside me.”

Bucky’s answer was an appreciative growl. He stood up, freeing himself first from the sweater that was becoming increasingly hot and then from his jeans and boxers. His size was impressive, the tip swollen and glistening with pre cum and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together in anticipation.

“Uh-uh. Let me take care of that sweetheart.” His voice was now a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. Agonizingly slow, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off you, groaning when he got a glimpse of your drenched panties. Sitting back on his haunches, he pushed your knees apart and ran his palms up the inside of your thighs, then softly ghosted over the purple cotton, before hooking his thumbs under the waistband. “Show me your pretty pussy, (Y/N).” In one swift motion, the piece of clothing was gone, and Bucky let out a low hiss at the sight of your wet folds. “Fuck, doll. You’re ven more beautiful than I imagined.” You were at a complete loss for words, but Bucky didn’t give you time to respond anyway. He took a hold of his erection and coated in in your juices, your overstimulated body jumping at the sensation, before locking eyes with you and carefully sliding his tip inside you. You both let out a needy whimper when he filled you up, going deeper and deeper, your pussy obediently swallowing him, until he bottomed out.

Bucky was still on his haunches, giving you time to adjust to him, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You okay?” You nodded. “You can move.” Bucky started thrusting in and out of you, accelerating his pace when it became obvious that you were in as much pleasure as he. Soon, he was mercilessly fucking you into the couch, snapping his hips forward and pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, and then repeating his actions, over and over and over again. When he used his metal hand to draw circles on your clit, you were a whimpering mess beneath him, uttering incoherent curses and multiple variations of his name. You felt the familiar sensation build up in your gut and squeezed his hand to hold off, but he wasn’t having it, only increasing his efforts. With a muffled scream, you came all over his dick, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. The sight of you coming undone combined with your cunt convulsing around his dick pushed Bucky over the edge as well and his thrusts became sloppier as he painted your walls with his seed and then collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and bathed in sweat.

—

Your second time together was slow and gentle, taking all the time you now knew you had, making sure to leave no inch of your lover’s body unattended to. The third time was rough again, Bucky fucking you against the shower tiles, cold water pouring down on you because you’d accidentally changed the setting when Bucky had lifted you and neither of you had noticed. The times that followed took place in various places of the Tower; the pool table where Bucky had found you the day before, the kitchen island, Sam’s bed (which seemed to give him a particular kind of satisfaction), in several of Tony’s cars, at one of the panorama windows, your front against the shining outline of the city (and the fake ice crystals) while Bucky took you from behind, all the while whispering sinful things to you that drove you insane, how often he’d sat in his room fucking his fist to your image, your plump lips that were just made for his cock, your curves that made your entire body jiggle when he drove into you, that beautiful ass of yours, imagining your sweet voice begging him to make you feel good. After all, it appeared he’d thought about you as often as you had about him.

—

You woke up to a rose-tainted sky and soft kisses peppered across the back of your neck, your shoulders and along your spine. You giggled into your pillow. Bucky’s strands brushing your bare skin gave you a tickling sensation. “You’re up early.” Bucky hummed into the crook of your neck, making your skin vibrate. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before heading out for my run.” You turned around to face him, his hair tousled, eyes still glossed over from sleep. Nobody should be allowed to look that gorgeous. “What is it?”

“Steve and Wilson will be back from their trip in a few hours and they will pester me about my crush on you and whether I’ve finally done something about it.” He rolled his eyes and your smile grew wider. “What are you going to tell them?” Bucky reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “I’d like to tell them that I asked you out on a date and that you agreed, but that wouldn’t be entirely true, would it?” You quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re asking me for permission to lie to your best friend?” Bucky laughed at that, that kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle. “Y/N, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

You tilted your head to the side. “Depends. Does that mean we’re gonna have to sleep in separate beds again?” Bucky raised your hand to his mouth and softly kissed your knuckles, then he stretched his head and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No way. What do you say?”

“Yes.”

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