#ch 11 is gonna hurt a little bit

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

There are kittens in this chapter :)))

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 12 ⬅ch.11

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | wc 3.5k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sooooooooo sorry if this seems ooc for ghost. i wanted to write him acting more empathetic while also maintaining his cold demeanor. i think some people tend to write him one way or the other and so i tried to balance it a bit more to be realistic. but if this felt ooc for ghost im so sorry!! feedback is appreciated so i can improve upcoming chapters! <3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the startling realization that you were sleeping in simon’s room is what woke you up that following morning. you sat up in his bed, the covers falling away from your chest, and you noticed he was gone. it was strange how this was the second time you shared a bed—completely platonically—with him and he was m.i.a. come morning.

you tried not to think too deeply about it, not wanting to get your feelings hurt even more than they already were. you were able to put what had happened between the two of you in the back of your mind yesterday, squishing down his words that hurt you so badly. 

you looked good in your dress. that’s all. m’sorry.

but that was yesterday. that was when he was the first face you saw after thinking you were about to be tortured. the face that rescued you. that was when he carried you back to base, his arms around you like a safety blanket. when he was the sense of security you desperately needed. when you felt like you needed him. 

this morning, your mind was far clearer. you even realized how stupid you were to let simon be that person for you when johnny was right there. 

you scurried from his room, still draped in his shirt, and made it back to your own. you told yourself you would visit the infirmary today, not for work, but to get yourself checked out. you weren’t hurt too badly, nothing that couldn’t heal with a little time. but still, you should really get checked over. and you were sure laswell or price would want to have a word with you about everything that happened. 

before you even managed to shift through your thoughts, johnny was at your door.

“how’re ya feelin’?” 

you grabbed your toiletries bag and spun to face to scot. “i’m okay.”

he gave you a once over. “are you sure?” he said a bit softer.

you gave him a gentle smile. “don’t worry, i’m just going to shower. then straight to the infirmary to get checked out.” you gave him a mock salute. 

johnny shook his head as he followed you out your door and down the hall towards the showers. “no, not that.” you glanced at him. “well, no, of course i wanted to make sure you were gonna be seen by a medic, but i was referring to the… psychological side of things.”

you laughed at his phrasing. “i’ll be okay, johnny. seriously. i mean, i know what happened terrified me and hasn’t left my thoughts since, but i could be a lot worse.” you were trying to make light of the situation. and while johnny understood that all too well, he still wasn’t convinced you were truly back to normal just a day after your kidnapping. 

you were taken a bit back. for once, soap didn’t seem to appreciate your humor. “and with ghost?” 

you almost dropped your bag, stumbling in your steps. “w-what about him?” 

“i saw him carrying you into base. the way ya clung to him. i just want t’make sure you’re okay.” his eyes trailed the shirt you were wearing—'swimming in' was more accurate—knowing it wasn't yours, but ghost's.

you sighed before spinning to face him. you wanted to make this very clear to soap: “he was the first person i saw. he was the one i saw close on my tail when i was trapped in that truck. he was the face who barged into that room after slaughtering men, pulling me out of that hole. i think i was just overwhelmed and felt like i needed him . y’know… a safety thing. but that has passed. i’m fine. fine .” soap raised a brow, not quite believing you. “nothing happened,” you said a bit bashful, noticing the way soap was staring at you like he thought more had gone down last night, and wearing ghost's shirt sure wasn't helping. “he just kept me company so i could fall asleep without thinking about…” your words trailed off. “point is, i appreciate you looking out for me, but i’m okay. i won’t let him…” a beat of silence passed as you looked for the words. “i won’t read things wrong again.” the sentence was a struggle to get out; like ash on your tongue.

you could see the concern on johnny’s face, so before he could protest and pry more, you slipped into the women’s showers so he couldn’t follow.

after showering and visiting the infirmary—-yes, you have been cleared—-you were making your way to price’s office. you assumed laswell would be there as well. 

you adjusted your black shirt as you strolled the halls, careful to not move in any way that would hurt your sore ribs. you walked past the gym, peeking in to see if you could spot gaz, surprised he hadn’t come to see you yet, and you almost choked on your spit.

you spotted simon—- ghost—- across the room in workout gear, addressing a new recruit. you hadn’t recognized her but you knew there were new recruits coming in this week so you assumed her to be one of them. 

you tried to pull your eyes away, but they were latched on to the tall brute and the shorter woman beside him. ghost hunched over slightly as he spoke to her and you saw her smile. her hand reached out and touched his arm softly and you felt your fists clench. 

ghost wasn’t yours . 

he was barely even your friend. he could flirt with whoever he wanted. it shouldn’t matter to you. and you knew you were overreacting. who's to say they were flirting? you hadn’t known ghost to be the best charmer, so why would he all of a sudden be cozying up to a woman he only just met?

soap’s words popped into your head: come to think of it. i don’t think i’ve known ghost to have hooked up with anyone since i’ve met the bastard.

all these rational thoughts and yet you ignored them. all you felt was a pang in your gut as you watched him instruct her, testing her skills, his hand lingering on her hip a bit too long. his eyes locked on hers. 

you didn’t feel any tears welling—so that was an improvement—all you felt was disappointment. ghost was emotionally unavailable. he also explicitly said he didn’t want you. this fantasy you had of him in your head was purely that: a fantasy. 

you had thought maybe he felt differently with the way his eyes traced your curves last night in the light of the bathroom. that maybe him letting you see him with his mask off was him letting you in. that he wanted to form some sort of relationship with you even if it was foreign to him.

but all of those thoughts went out the door. there were so many reasons why it would never work between the two of you. seeing him with that woman wasn’t what made you feel that way. all it did was remind you of the reality of your situation.

you sulked into price’s office, the smell of cigars filling your nose.

price’s warm greeting, his gentle smile, and his all-over fatherly presence set you back at ease. 

when laswell entered, her soothing hand on your shoulder reminded you that you could live so fucking easily without ghost. you had a family here. and while you had hoped to let ghost become one of those people to you, it wasn’t the end of the world by any means if he didn’t.

a week had passed and you had resorted to pretending like anything private that ever happened between you and ghost had never occurred. you weren’t going to sulk over him any longer. you thought he was attractive. that was it. you hooked up once and it didn’t work out. you were an adult, you could move on. 

you laughed animatedly at soap, grabbing his arm in your fit. ghost spotted you across the training room, your laughter floating over into his space, pissing him off.

he expected you to have wanted to talk to him after that night in his room. but you never did. you never sought him out. never came by to let him know everything at the infirmary checked out okay. granted, he never came after you either. 

he got up when he saw you leaving and followed you out the door. 

“iaso,” he called.

you stopped and spun to face him, smiling. “what’s up, lt.?” 

ghost was a bit taken aback by your friendly demeanor. not that you weren’t a friendly person, but you were acting oddly like nothing ever happened. like ghost hadn’t pulled you into his arms a week ago, his chest pounding and his arms shaking as he held you.

“jus’ wanted to see if you were okay,” he said dumbly.

“all good. don’t worry, i’ve been cleared to be back to work.” you smiled then turned and walked away.

ghost had never been left so dumbfounded before. he cracked his knuckles in annoyance.

you seemed to be ignoring him. 

whenever ghost entered a room you were in, you’d leave. he saw you linking arms with soap as you walked the halls, never meeting ghost’s eyes. he knew soap was visiting you in the infirmary on your breaks and he always seemed awkward when it came up between them. you even managed to get out of a poker session where ghost was present. you had stood up the second he walked into that room, calling it a night and tossing your cards in the middle of the table.

“she’s ignoring me,” ghost huffed as he shuffled through the dossiers on his desk. he was acting like he had any claim over you. like he had a right to your friendship.

“who?” soap asked. ghost looked up and glared at his friend. “i think you give yourself too much credit. she’s not ignoring you, lt. she’s just accepted your rejection and moved on with her life.”

“i didn’t reject her.”

soap rolled his eyes. “you really wanna go down that road?” 

ghost mumbled in annoyance as he stared at the words on the paper before him. 

“didn’t think you’d care, if i’m being honest.”

ghost glared at soap, waiting for him to elaborate since he clearly wanted to further this conversation.

“ her opinion of you ,” soap clarified. “you made it pretty clear you wanted nothing from her, so i just assumed that meant you wouldn’t be bothered by her ignoring you n’all.” 

ghost tapped his pen on his desk. “so she is ignoring me, then.”

“i didn’t say that.”

ghost knew he couldn’t fight logistics with soap, with soap being… soap and all. “we have actual shit t’go over. important intel before we depart friday.” 

soap slipped into the chair in front of ghost’s desk. “you started it.” 

“i didn’t—- bloody hell ,” he grumbled rubbing his hand over his face. soap tried to hold back his smirk. 

“y’know she’s coming with us,” soap said, referencing the mission soon to happen in the coming days based on the information the men had acquired from valeria. 

“well aware,” ghost said flatly. 

the idea of you being forced to be in ghost’s proximity tomorrow, knowing you couldn’t avoid it like you had been, made his chest swell slightly. he didn’t want to admit this to himself, but he wanted you to want him. desperately . and hearing soap talk about you, always seeing the two of you together, ghost felt like he was pushing you straight into his friend’s arms. 

he should have been okay with that. whether he found you attractive or not, he shouldn’t have felt jealous when he saw you with soap. he’s found plenty of women attractive, and plenty of them were involved with someone else. that usually didn’t bother ghost at all. he was fine admiring pretty ladies knowing they would never be his. he didn’t want them to be his. so this resentment he was feeling towards soap was new to him. 

he unclenched his fist. 

“jus’ wanna make sure you’re gonna behave yourself,” soap chimed. 

“christ, johnny. i’m not—”

soap cut him off. “i’m serious, lt. i know i don’t have this kind of authority, but she doesn’t deserve whatever it is that's going on inside your twisted head.” soap gestured widely at ghost, implying he was all sorts of messed up. “i’d die protecting her. and if it means i’d have to die in your clutches, then so be it.”

ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and soap’s dramatics. though, he did admire soap’s loyalty. 

shifting the conversation away from you, ghost debriefed soap on prep for the coming mission, letting him know— almost —everything planned. 

it was late when ghost spotted you. you didn’t see him as he stalked you around the bend of the hallway.

finally, you were alone. not linking arms with soap or laughing with gaz. you were alone as you walked through the halls of the barracks. if you had known ghost would have spotted you, you would have likely stayed in your room. but you had no idea the masked man was trailing behind you. 

ghost hadn't been planning on talking to you, irate by the way you’ve been ignoring him, but when he saw you, his feet moved on their own accord. the hall lights flickered, creating an ominous glow. he surmised you were heading back to the infirmary even though he knew your shift was already over. maybe you forgot something?

and then one of ghost’s steps was a tad too loud because you looked over your shoulder and he watched as your eyes widened momentarily. you scrunched up your nose and faced forward, your pace increasing. “are you following me?”

“this is my quarters jus’ as much as it is yours,” he grunted. 

you rolled your eyes. “well… it's plenty big enough. you could always go a different way.”

“still not talkin’ to me, then?”

you could sense him catching up and it made the hackles on your neck rise. “what’re you—”

“i know you’ve been ignoring me. don’t try t’lie your way outta this.”

you turned around and began to walk backward so you could face him when you spoke. “i’m not really in the mood to have this conversation right now.” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“well, good thing i wasn’t askin’.”

your mouth parted in surprise at his bluntness. you quickly spun on your heels, not wanting the emotions you had been shoving down for the past week to come back up. if you could just avoid him a little longer, you’d be able to move on. if he would only just—

in your nerves, you reached a dead end of one of the many barren halls. you were going to turn and scurry past him, not even wanting to grab your bag you left in the infirmary any longer, you just wanted to get away from him. but before you had the chance, ghost’s arms were on either side of your head, hands flat against the wall, caging you into his chest. your back was to him and your only view was the blank drywall. the corner he had you trapped in was dark and you figured even if you did spin to face the beast behind you, you wouldn’t be able to make much of him out. you hated that a swirl of arousal filled your stomach remembering him being this close to you in that tiny closet he shoved the two of you into all those weeks ago. 

“ghost, i don’t wanna—”

“ simon ,” he said a little aggressively. 

you gulped, his words grazing the edge of your neck as he spoke. you were quiet as you waited for him to say more. “you sure you’re ready to go back out on location?” he asked, referring to the upcoming mission you were going to be a part of. 

“is that it? you’re worried i’m broken or some shit like that?” your words screamed irritation, but your voice sounded more hurt than angry. “that i don’t know my own limits and can’t decide when i’m good to be back? that i’ll slow you down? i told you i was cleared!” you knew you were inferring a lot from his one little sentence, but you wanted to be mad. to be angry at him. 

“i didn’t say that.”

“no. but it’s what you meant.”

you heard ghost sigh and his hands dropped down to his side. you felt the warmth of his chest still behind you so you didn’t dare move to look at him.

“i know what it’s like t’lose everyone you love,” he started. 

“what does that have to do with any—-?”

“would you jus’ shut up for one second n’ listen for once?” 

you swallowed hard and nodded your head. he let out a breath. he knew he had snapped at you, but this was difficult for him. he wanted to get this out before he second-guessed himself and let you walk away forever. 

“i lost my entire family to men a lot more evil than me. did everythin’ in my power to get revenge. so i know what it’s like to love and t’lose.”

“did it help?” you asked softly. “revenge?”

you could hear the tension in ghost’s words as he mumbled them behind you. the only reason he was able to answer this question was due to the fact that you were turned away from him. if you two had been looking into each other’s eyes… he didn’t think he’d have to ability to open up. “depends how ya look at it. that kind’a dedication to death—never stoppin’ till you feel blood on your hands—takes a toll on ya. i think it’s what made me so… unbearable. but the general doesn’t seem t’think so. made me a stronger soldier in shepherd’s eyes.”

you felt your breath waver as you listened. 

“i wouldn’t have jus’ killed for them, i woulda died. it was years ago now that i was captured on duty. was tortured. buried alive. locked up. abused.” simon cleared his throat. “think it made me unwillin’ to let people in , as you would word it. i don’t know if i could survive another loss like that, like when i lost my mother and brother. s’not a feelin’ i ever plan on livin’ through again.”

“simon…”

“and you, ” he said a bit more potently. “you have been messin’ everythin’ up. when you n’ laswell were taken… it felt like when i saw my brother and his wife dead on their living room floor. the only thing i saw was red. i woulda done anything t’get you back. i couldn’t let this happen again. i couldn’t fail the people i cared about again.”

it pained you to know that simon placed all the blame on anything bad happening to those around him on himself. “laswell, too?” you said, but more as a question. you were purposefully trying to avoid the romantic ideation behind his words.

“no,” he said immediately, without a second thought. “course i wanted her back. but it didn’t feel the same as the way i wanted you.”

i wanted you . those words made your chest tighten. 

“why are you telling me all this?” you finally asked after a lull. 

“i jus’ wanted you t’know that i don’t mean t’hurt you. that maybe i needa try harder. and that… i’m sorry.”

you felt a single tear escape and slide down your cheek. you took a moment to steady your breathing, trying to reel in all of simon’s words.

when you spun to face him, unsure of what you’d find in his expression, you gasped. he was gone. you didn’t even hear him as he took off down the hall with your back still to him. 

eventually, walking alone back to your room, you let the tears fall freely. you cried for simon’s past. for his losses. for your own losses. for the strange sense of love you felt radiating off of him as he told you he’d move the world just to get you back safely. for the stupid feelings you had brewing in your chest. for the way you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or if you wanted to hold him as he told you more. 

simon felt like he couldn’t let someone else in. that he wouldn’t survive it. but you wouldn’t leave him if he did. and you needed to tell him that. you needed to show him that he might be a bit broken, lost from his path, but you’d help him find the light again, as cheesy as that sounded. you would show him how beautiful it was to love even after losing so much. that it was possible. he deserved to be loved. he deserved to be happy. he wasn’t some emotionless robot, no matter what the army thought of him. and you wanted to help him realize that. 

chapter 13 ➡

[specialagentlokitty]

Daryl x reader - take on the world together

Part 11:

Since that day a month ago you noticed a change in Daryl, only a small one that others didn’t quite notice, but you did.

That was something you were good at, noticing the small changes.

He was more protective of Spencer, wherever the boy went, if he wasn’t needed elsewhere then Daryl wouldn’t be that far behind.

You were in your cell, standing in the corner as you looked at your side that was still struggling to heal.

“That don’t look right.”

You spun around, seeing Daryl standing there with a bag on his shoulder.

He dug inside of it, pulling out a rabbit and he tossed it to you.

“A balanced diet.”

You looked at it and shook your head, handing it back to him.

“It won’t heal, you can bring me all the game you get, but it’s not healing, it went through, the bullet must had shattered a little I’m not sure.”

“Take the damn rabbit.”

You walked over to the bed and sat down.

“It’s no good Daryl, it’s not going to help, if there is a fragment in there it’s just going to keep moving, it won’t heal.”

“Cause you ain’t been eating the damn food I give you.”

“I don’t want to.”

He walked over, and he held the animal out to you again.

“Eat.”

“No.”

“I will shove this rabbit down your damn throat if I have to.”

You snatched it from him and set it behind you, covering it with a sheet in case someone came in.

He crossed his arms and looked down at you.

“I ain’t leaving.”

“You’ll be stood there a while then. Where’s Spence?”

“Story time.”

You nodded your head and picked up the rabbit, tossing it back to Daryl and you got up.

You left you cell and tried to ignore him, but he just followed you, to the walkway where you both sat down.

He dropped the animal back into your lap.

“I won’t do it.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because if I’m weak then I can’t loose control Daryl, it’s as simple as that.”

“If you’re weak you can’t protect nobody.”

You didn’t say anything and he clenched his jaw.

“Fine, I’ll give it to Hershel.”

He got up and stormed away and you carried on sitting there, placing a hand over your side.

A few minutes later he came back, and he looked at you.

“Show me.”

You lifted the side of your shirt, and he reached out, placing a hand on your side, he gently pressed around the wound.

You winced a little bit, and he nodded to himself.

“Found it, working its way out the skin.”

“My cell, I don’t want anybody to know.”

He nodded and followed you.

You laid down on your good side.

You grabbed your knife and handed it to him and he took it, taking the cloth from his back pocket.

“This is gonna hurt.”

“Just get it out.”

Daryl worked quickly, finding the fragment he pulled it out with the knife and covered your side with the cloth, applying pressure to the wound.

“Remind me never to get shot again…”

He chuckled a little, placing your hand on the cloth so he could help you sit up.

“How long?”

“If that’s the only one a few hours, shouldn’t be that bad.”

He nodded his head, and he leant back along the wall.

“You’re gonna have to eat at some point.”

“Nah.”

“How long you plannin’ on being this stubborn?”

“For a while.”

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t try help, you wanna be stubborn as fuck then that’s fine.”

You grinned a little and him.

“Don’t you grin at me, this ain’t funny.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you to care so much.”

“Shut up…”

You smirked a little, and you stood up, walking over you flicked his forehead like he did to you.

“I’ll be fine Daryl, I am eating, just not as much as you’d want me too. But I’m eating.”

“How you gonna look out for anybody if you ain’t gonna look out for yourself huh?”

“I’m still strong, it takes a long time to get to that point, stop stressing about it.”

He sighed, and you smiled softly up at him.

“Plus with you being his own bodyguard, I think Spence is gonna be alright.”

“Damn straight he is.”

You felt his hand brush against yours, and you looked down at it before looking back up at him.

He gripped you hand it his, and he placed a finger under your chin to turn your head up to him, his other hand leaving yours to touch your side.

“Is it better?”

You nodded.

Daryl moved his hands away from you and he looked away towards the cell door.

“I should go.”

He went to leave and you gripped his hand.

“How long are we gonna keep playing this game?” You asked.

“We ain’t playing no game.”

You sighed and walked in front of him, crossing your arms as you blocked the exit.

“We’ve been playing this game since that night we came back from the run. This whole two step routine, one minute you’re all nice to me the next you’re keeping me at arms length.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, move.”

“Make me.”

“Get out the way.”

“Not until we talk about this.”

He titled his head a little in annoyance, but he didn’t say anything.

You both just stared at each other for a moment and you heard your name being called and you looked at the cell door before looking at him.

“When you figure out what exactly it is that you’re wanting here Daryl let me know.”

You left your cell, and walked over to Carol who was holding Spencer’s hand.

You crouched down to look at him.

“What’s wrong buddy…?”

He sniffled a little.

“I don’t feel well…”

“Hey, hey that’s alright. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He nodded and you picked him up.

“I’ll get Hershel.”

You nodded and you carried Spencer back to the cell, sitting down on the bed with him, resting his head in your lap.

You soothed him quietly, running your hand over his head.

“You’re okay… it’s going to be okay… we’ll make you better…”

He nodded his head, and you covered him up with your jacket.

You couldn’t point out what exactly made him ill, it didn’t smell like any illness you had come across before.

Hershel, Carol, Beth and Rick came in.

Hershel looked him over, and Beth placed a cold cloth on his head.

“I can’t be too sure what he has right now, but if I had to guess I would say maybe a cold, or the flu. I’ve got a little a few antibiotics left.”

You nodded your head, and you gently laid his head on a pillow.

You go up to follow Hershel.

“How long will the supply last?”

“Maybe a week, as long as nobody else gets sick.”

“What does he need Hershel?”

“Let’s try what we have.”

You stepped in front of him to stop him, balling your hands into fists.

“What do I need for my boy to get better Hershel?”

“There’s a lot of things we could all need, right now all we can do is watch him, give him antibiotics.”

You went to say something but Rick placed a hand on your shoulder and you looked at him.

He let Hershel pass and you took a shaky breath.

“Rick I can’t let anything happen to my boy…”

“I know, I understand. Trust me, I do. But right now you just need to be there for him, okay?”

You nodded your head.

He smiled.

“Go on, go sit with him.”

You made your way back to the cell and you laid down next to him, placing your hand over his.

“Do you get sick…?” He whispered weakly.

“No, I don’t get sick..”

He nodded his head and you smiled, leaning foreword you kissed his forehead.

“Go to sleep, you’ll be alright in no time…”

“Will you sing my song..?”

You laughed softly.

“Yeah.. yeah of course I will…”

You quietly began to sing to him, letting him just there and listen.

When you reached the end you would started the song over, even after he fell asked you carried on singing to him.

You weren’t sure how long you were singing for, you just kept on singing, worried that if you stopped he would wake up and be upset or in pain.

You heard steps running up to the cell, and the sheet was tossed on the ground.

Daryl walked in, you looked at him but you didn’t stop singing.

“What’s wrong with him?”

You kept singing, and he walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with Spencer?”

You slowly stopped singing, and when you were sure he was definitely asleep you slowly sat up, gesturing to the top bunk.

You jumped up on it, and Daryl followed you, sitting in front of you.

“They think he has the flu… but they don’t know…”

“They can help him.”

“Daryl he wasn’t sick this morning, humans are always sick before they show that they’re sick. He wasn’t sick.”

Daryl furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Nothing?”

“No… last time he was sick was just after I found him, I could smell that he was sick days before he showed it.”

Daryl leant over the top bunk to look down at Spencer before he sat back up to look at you.

“We need more medicine.”

“We’ll get more, okay? I’ll talk to Rick, we’ll do a run, we’ll find more.”

“I need to find more now.”

Daryl placed his hand over yours.

“No, right now you need to be here.”

“I won’t just sit here while he suffers!” You hissed.

Daryl looked at at you and he sighed softly.

“I know.”

Daryl cradled your face between his hands and he leant forward, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“We’ll stay with him, both of us. In the morning I’ll talk to Rick about doing a run.”

You nodded your head, and you closed your eyes, placing your hands on his, a few tears falling from your eyes.

You climbed down from the top bunk, and you laid back down next to Spencer.

Daryl stayed in the cell with you, sometimes he would pace back and forth, other times he would would sit on the top bunk.

Now he was laid behind you, his back pressed against yours as he slept facing the wall.

He had his arm reaching behind him to hold your hand.

You couldn’t sleep, knowing that Spencer was sick and you were running out of medicine.

So, you slowly moved, making your way to the edge of the bed when suddenly and arm was around you, stopping you.

“I’ll tell Rick to lock that damn door if you even think about…” Daryl whispered.

You sighed, laying back down on your back.

He laid on his side, keeping his eyes closed.

“Don’t even think about trying that move again.”

You nodded your head, letting him know you heard him.

“You runnin’ out ain’t gonna do no good, you know that.”

“I know Daryl, but this is my boy. He’s hurting…”

“I’ll get him whatever he needs, but you need to give me your word that you’ll stay here, right next to him and not move from his side ‘till I get back you hear?”

You nodded, and rested your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything, because he knew how worried you were for Spencer, he was worried too but right now he couldn’t have you running out there and leaving Spencer in this condition

[crazyunsexycool]

'Til the end of the line and back

Chapter 11: A small break.

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Warning: fluff, kissing, cuddling, lil itty bitty bit of angst, mentions of nightmares

A/N: I think it was about time these guys just spent some time together! Let me know your thoughts!

Series Maserlist

Ch. 10

Bucky’s lips were soft against yours. Your reply had barely rolled off your tongue when he pulled you in, unable to hold back the need to kiss you any longer. His hold on you tightened as if you would disappear if he let go. Both of you are breathless as you pull away slightly. Bucky rests his forehead against yours. Steve clears his throat besides you.

“I would very much like to be included.” 

You laugh as you and Bucky open your arms to allow Steve closer. He kisses you first and then Bucky. The three of you stay like that for some time. Sharing kisses and lingering touches until the light in the living room turns on.  

“Finally.” Nat says from the hallway. Her presence causes you to pull away from each other. She’s still bruised and although she won’t show it she’s also in pain. That doesn’t stop the genuine smile she has.

“Is everything ok Nat?” Steve asks, a little bit annoyed at the intrusion.

“Adam had a nightmare and won’t calm down until he sees you.” 

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” You nod before turning to both men. Each of them receives a kiss on the cheek before you get up. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Ok, take your time.” Bucky says as they watch you walk out of the living room.

“Whatever you’re going to say, don't.” 

“I wasn’t going to say anything, Rogers. I’m just very happy that you three finally got your shit together.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes as he gets up from the couch. 

“I’m going back to bed.” 

“Me too, you should get some rest Nat.” 

“Yeah, Yeah. Don’t think I’m gonna let this slide, I want details.”  She yells after them with a satisfied grin on her face.

Adam’s panicked eyes met yours as you made your way into his room. He reaches out waiting for you to grab his hand.

“It felt so real. They made me watch while they hurt you.” He says on a shaky breath. 

“Hey it’s ok, I’m here.” 

You sat at the edge of the bed and ran your fingers through his hair. Adam finally started to relax back into the bed and his breathing evened out but his eyes stayed on you. Adam had been your friend since childhood and you knew that look well. It was the one he would give you if you got in trouble because of him.

“Adam, none of this is your fault you know that right?”

“How can you say that? I should have kept you safe before this. I don’t even know why you would even want me in your life anymore. You were right to run away from me that day at the bookstore.” 

“That’s enough,” you say sternly and turn away from him. “It wasn’t your fault Jackson owed money and that he did what he did. And it wasn’t your fault that hydra used me for their experiments and it wasn’t your fault that they chased us after the bar. If anything you should stay away from me. Now I really have a target on my back and they could use you to get to me.” 

This wasn’t working out the way you hoped. It was just the two of you taking turns freaking out. 

“No way, I’m not staying away from you. Besides, I have black widow on my side.” 

You chuckled as you looked back at him. Adam gives you a sad smile.

“So we aren’t going to stop being friends.” 

“What just because you’re an avenger now I’m not good enough?” 

“Exactly. I’m glad we had this talk, it was fun while it lasted.” You say making Adam smile genuinely. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just- it was almost seven years. Sometimes it still feels like I’m going to wake up and you’re still gone.”

“Never apologize Adam. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you. Not knowing what happened. But I’m here now and I’m never leaving again. Now let’s get comfy because I’m staying until you fall back asleep.” 

“Ok.” He said as he shuffled to give you some space on the bed. You laid next to him and played with his hair some more, using your abilities to make sure he wouldn’t have another nightmare.

The sun is starting to rise when you finally make it back upstairs to the hallway your room is in. Sleep is the only thing on your mind and you head straight to your room. You can’t help but smile when you open the door. Bucky and Steve are sleeping in your bed, as if they had been waiting for you. You walk over to the side of the bed that has an empty space and lay down. Hands immediately find your waist and you’re pulled back into a firm chest. 

“Morning, Pinky.” Bucky’s voice is still heavy with sleep.

“Morning, Buck.” 

“How’s Adam?” 

“Better now.”

“Good, get some sleep.” He says before kissing your shoulder and drifting back to sleep. Soon enough you feel Steve’s hand resting on your waist too and you smile again.

You could get used to this.

When you wake up it’s just a bit later in the morning. Your face is pressed against a hard, well defined and shirtless chest and you’re pleasantly surprised to find Steve being the one holding you. A smile graces your lips as you wrap your arm around his waist in order to keep him as close as possible. 

“Good Morning sweetheart.” 

“Morning, shouldn’t you be out running or something?” 

“Are you kicking me out already?” He teases.

“Well something must be up when you’re in bed but Bucky isn’t.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend some extra time with my girl, ever think of that?” He kisses your forehead. 

“No but it sounds nice. Maybe your girl would like some more kisses.” 

“I can do that.” 

Steve moves so that he hovers over you. He kisses your forehead, one cheek then the other, followed by placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and finally his lips are on yours. There’s no rush to the kiss, as if you have all the time in the world. And for the next few minutes you do. It’s sweet kisses, smiles and soft touches. Your hands travel up and down his back and chest as his lips move down your jaw towards your neck. 

“Steve.” You call out breathily. 

“Hhmm?” 

“We should um- maybe..”

“Hey Y/N if you’re up for it… oh my god!” Wanda had walked into your room without knocking. She covers her eyes and turns around quickly. Steve moves so he’s laying on his side. “I am so sorry I didn’t mean to just walk in.” 

“I’ll find you in a minute Wanda.” 

“Yeah, no- no worries. Take your time.” She stutters out before the door closes. 

Steve wastes no time, he quickly moves to kissing your neck again and his hands are on your waist. 

“Steve, I have to go.” You laugh as you try to pull away. But Steve just keeps pulling you back.

“She said for you to take your time.” 

“It’s just an expression. I have to see what she wants.” 

He lets out a frustrated groan as he finally lets you go. His perfect pink pout makes you laugh as you grab some clothes and walk into your bathroom to do a quick version of your morning routine. When you walk back out Steve is still laying down on your bed which is unusual for him. 

“Is everything ok with you? You’re usually up and either out for a run or in the gym by now.” 

“For the first time in a long time,” Steve sits up and reaches out for you, you place your hand in his and he pulls you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a soft kiss. “Yes, everything is more than ok. How could it not be? I have Bucky and I have you.” 

You smile up at him.

“Good. I want this to work. I want us to be happy.” 

“We are and we will be.” He says as he shifts to try and keep you in bed longer. 

“Don’t even think about it. I have to go find Wanda.” 

“Fine, But you owe me.” 

“Whatever you say, baby.” You give him another kiss and head toward the door. “See you later.” 

After apologizing to Wanda and her apologizing to you she finally explains that she wanted to train with you more. Since your full abilities had been unlocked she thought it would be good for you to practice in a safe space. Hours went by and you were both exhausted but thrilled to be able to fight like Wanda did. There was still so much left to learn and you were thankful Wanda had set up a training schedule for you.

“So you and Steve?” She says as you walk toward the door of the training room. “What about Bucky, I thought you were in love with him?” 

“Only Nat knows so please don’t tell anyone else.” 

“Promise.”

“They both asked me last night to be their girl and I said yes.”

“Like you’re dating both of them?” She looks at you a bit confused.

“Yes and they’re dating each other too.”

“Hhmm,” she puts an arm over your shoulder and smiles. “As long as you’re happy I am too. And if they break your heart I’ll break them.” 

You laugh, “I’ll let them know that.” 

“No, I'll do it. Once I talked with Natasha.” 

“Should I be scared for their well-being?” 

“Not if they treat you right. Now come on, let's freshen up and we can talk about it more during lunch.”

“I’d like that.”

Wanda and you talked for a while, especially when Nat showed up. It was good to have a little piece of normalcy considering the constant chaos that had happened in the previous days. Your mind however kept going back to Steve and Bucky. Specifically how you hadn’t seen Bucky all day which was unusual. You leave the girls and head toward Bucky’s room but find it empty, Steve’s is empty too. If there aren’t any current missions you know they like to either hang out with Sam or hit the gym so you decide to take a break in your room. 

A beautiful bouquet of flowers sat on your nightstand along with a note. You smile as you get closer and inhale the sweet scent of the flowers. When you open the note you see Steve’s handwriting.

Meet us by the lake at 5.

-S

The alarm clock on the nightstand lets you know you have about 15 minutes to get ready. You head to your closet and grab one of your more comfortable dresses and some sandals. Changing quickly and fixing your hair slightly you do a once over in the mirror. There’s no time for makeup but that's fine because they’ve seen you without it plenty of times.  

Once you reach the lake you see Bucky and Steve sitting on a blanket. There were a few pillows thrown around, a picnic basket and a Bluetooth speaker which Bucky was connecting to his phone. But more interesting was the easel set up to the side. There was a stool and a small portable table next to it holding painting supplies. 

“Hey.” You called out when you were close enough. They both turn and smile brightly at you. 

Steve was in a green t-shirt and jeans while Bucky had on his regular black t-shirt and jeans, they looked good. Bucky reaches you first and doesn’t waste any time in wrapping his arms around and crashing his lips to yours.

“You look beautiful.” He says sweetly, his eyes brighter than you’d ever seen before and a certain ease about him. 

“Well you look quite handsome yourself, both of you.” 

Steve steps up behind you and places his hands on your hip. He kissed your shoulder until you turned and he was able to place a kiss on your lips. 

“What’s this for?” 

“We wanted to surprise you. We wanted to take you out on a proper first date but with everything that’s happened we thought staying close to home was better.” Bucky explains. “For now.” 

“Well I still appreciate it.” You smile sweetly at them. “What are the art supplies for?”

“For you, I’ve got my sketchbook and Bucky has a book he’s been wanting to read.” 

You walked over to the easel and looked over the supplies.

“These are what Adam brought the other day.” 

“Yeah, he said it’d been a while since you painted, even before hydra.” 

“It has.” You say as you begin to imagine what you would fill the canvas with. Steve places a wine glass beside you and a kiss on your cheek before sitting down on the blanket. Bucky sits next to him, book in one hand the other around Steve’s waist. You smile as you pick up a pencil and start drawing an outline. Suddenly inspired by the scenery and both men in front of you. 

Music played softly as Bucky read, Steve sketched and you began painting. The smile never left your lips the longer you added color to the canvas. Hands wrapped around your waist, it was the only thing to pull you from your little bubble of concentration. 

“This looks amazing, love.” Bucky’s voice rings in your ear. His eyes scanned the unfinished painting. The lake is the main focal point but wildflowers fill the edges. Vibrant colors give the image just the right touch and bring everything together. On a small scale you added a picnic, much like the one you’re at right now, with three figures. “Is this us?” 

“Yeah, but I think I’m done for now. Thank you for this, both of you.” 

“You don’t have to thank us. We just wanted to spend time with you, sweetheart.” 

As much as you try you can’t stop smiling, you can’t remember a time you felt this happy. Bucky takes your hand and leads you to the blanket. He sits down first and you follow. Sitting between Bucky’s legs you lay back against his chest. Steve moves around until his head is laying on your lap and you begin to play with his hair. His eyes flutter shut and he sighs happily.

“I could spend the rest of my life like this.” Bucky said as his arms wrapped around you. You turn your head to look up at him as he begins to leave soft kisses on your shoulder. He moves slowly up your neck and then your jaw until his lips are on yours. After a few short sweet kisses you pull back and rest your head against his shoulders.

“You know, you two keep kissing and leaving me out of it. It’s starting to hurt my feelings.” 

“You know what, Rogers? You’re the only person that has made out with both of us, so you can sit there and watch.” You say as you look down on him. Bucky chuckles behind you as he takes your chin in his hand and tips your head back.

“I think we should give him a show.” 

His lips are on yours before you’ve had a chance to respond. The few kisses you’ve shared with him have been soft and sweet. This one is the opposite and it doesn’t take long for him to deepen it either. Bucky tilts your head back slightly before his tongue is exploring your mouth. A small moan escapes your lips. You’re pulled from Bucky and without much chance to breathe your lips crash against Steve’s. He pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him, causing your dress to ride up while Bucky chuckles behind you. 

“You’re a menace.” You tell Steve when you’re finally able to pull back. 

He smirks before pulling Bucky in for a kiss of their own. You watch as they deepen the kiss, your hands moving up Steve’s chest so they rest on his shoulders. They smile at each other, if it weren’t because you’re sitting on Steve’s lap you’d think you were intruding on an intimate moment between lovers but then they look at you. The same adoring gaze they had for each other is now directed at you. It was almost too intense to be the center of attention. Warmth spreads in your chest the longer you stay in their embrace.

 Like in the early morning hours you traded soft touches and lingering kisses. You’d moved from straddling Steve to laying down between them and watching the stars. The three of you were just as content with conversation as you were in silence. 

You move until your head is resting on Bucky’s chest, sighing when you feel Steve get closer behind you. He drapes an arm around both you and Bucky and you watch as they intertwine their fingers. The three of you fit perfectly together and although you knew trying times were on their way you couldn’t be bothered to worry about them. You pushed away the thoughts of missions and injuries, reports to file and debriefs. The only thing that had your attention were the two men that had made you fall madly in love with them.

Permanent taglist: @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5 @sturchling @angywritesstuff @seitmai @writing-for-marvel @goldylions @darkhairedmenrule @little--baby--bear @almosttoopizza @littleseasiren

Series taglist: @snufflet @kunaikunari @lfaewrites @5moremin @saranghaey @angieptt @shreyalokesh @pono-pura-vida

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch.5 "2:22"

Summary: Lee and Jo share a sweet texting conversation. He later hangs out with Dr. Bloom and soon after finds himself in another mess. Jo worries when her texts go unanswered. She pays Lee a visit and gets more than one surprise.

*Warning* Angst, language, alcohol/drug use, graphic descriptions, mentions of death, child loss, domestic dispute

Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

February 3, 2023

After you left, Lee went upstairs to crash and sleep the day away after eating pizza he had delivered. Lord knows he needed the rest after what he had just put his body through last night. He found himself tossing and turning into the night hours...with relentless thoughts of you. Thoughts of the loss you had suffered. He still worried that if you knew he was the doctor that tended to your brother, would you still look at him the same because he couldn't save him? He eventually just laid there talking to himself....and eventually to God, whom he believed in whole heartedly, although he had went through the first few years of being angry with him after Jacob's death.

Lee then picked up his phone to find a text message from you. When he had used your phone to call his so he would have your number, he actually texted it instead, knowing you would see the message he sent from your phone. It was a simple "Cherries are my favorite fruit btw."

Your reply conjured the biggest smile upon his face.

"So I gathered from the fact of u saying u liked the taste of my cherry chapstick and then dashed off singing about it. How r u doing? R u alright?"

Lee rubbed his eyes and sat up, staring at his phone in the darkened room, contemplating his reply. It was 11 pm, twelve hours after you had been there and he had only slept merely three of it at the most.

He swung his bare feet across the bed and placed them on the wood floor as he yawned and turned on his bed stand light, then put on his reading glasses.

"I am fine. A bit sore and bruised but ok. I just woke up actually. Gonna get up and continue cleaning this money pit lol. What about u? R u alright? How did things go with your mom?"

You had tried so hard to fall asleep but Lee's cologne was all over you, teasing your nose and other parts of you that ached for him. As you placed your hands on your face to inhale his remnants, you were startled by the sound of your phone chiming. You instantly hoped that it was Lee. Fumbling to look at the screen, his name appeared and awoke your butterflies from their dormant state.

"Hey u. Yes, I am fine and I am so glad to hear from u. My mom is drugged up on sleeping meds right now. We have to go to the funeral home tomorrow which I am dreading. I just woke up too, right before u texted me. Weird lol."

Lee softly chuckled. "Clairvoyant maybe? Ur not a witch are u?🤔"

If you had told him about your dream of him being hurt just eight hours before you found him passed out cold on the floor, he might actually think that you were. Hell, you even wondered sometimes, as this wasn't the first time you've ever had premonition like dreams.

"Well, I do live in Salem in one of the witch houses my father bought. I'll let u ponder on that. 😉"

"Oh dear lord. Well that is just perfect. I love witchy stuff."

"Really? Me 2. I actually write about things like that, fantasies and fairytales etc...it's just a hobby but it keeps me grounded, a coping mechanism per se. I kinda like escaping life for awhile."

"Well no shit? I don't write but I love to read. Your genre is right up my alley. I no what u mean about wanting to escape, even if only for a little while. I guess we now have another thing in common."

"It looks that way. So cool. So....do u believe in wishes?"

"Witches, maybe. Wishes....not so much. Why do u ask?"

"Because it is 11:11 right now."

"Ahhhh. Let's just say I have wished upon it before, but I never was granted my desires."

"Well...hurry. Make a wish right now before it turns and I will too. Maybe if we wish at the same time, it will come true lol."

Lee chuckled, then decided to humor you and closed his eyes. The wish he would have liked to make, he knew would not come true...ever, for it was for Jacob to be alive. He had wished it so many times, he lost track. The wish that invaded his mind in that moment stunned him. He wished for you. He had actually wished for you in the past. Not you literally per se as he never knew you, but someone just like you he longed for. It seemed to him that wish may already have been answered but he wanted to do it again, to maybe seal the deal...He then laughed at himself for being so ridiculous. He knew these things weren't real.

In that same moment, you made the same wish. You wanted him. You wanted him so bad it hurt. If only you both had realized that you wanted the same things, a wish would not even be needed, for destiny would take it's course regardless.

"Soooo...what did u wish for?" Lee asked.

"If I tell u, it won't come true. Ha ha."

"Alright. So if it does come true, u will tell me right?"

"Most definitely. Hey, I'm gonna let u go for now so u can go do ur cleaning n stuff. I gotta get up early for all the funeral stuff and what not. Talk later? I hope."

"Oh fo sho girl. Get some sleep...and...thank u so much for everything. Goodnight witchy woman. 😂"

"Omg lol....ur so welcome. Ok. Goodnight Lee. ttyl."

"Sweet dreams lady luck."

Lee began his cleaning while he was wide awake and in the mood. He knew this was going to take him longer than the two weeks he had off because he still had other priorities. He needed to visit his father and still check in on patients by consulting with the covering physician. Plus he had farm animals to tend to along with a cat and a dog, which he would go do each day at some point, and if he absolutely could not do it, he had well paid trustworthy people to take care of it.

He laid his phone on the table with pandora app set on the 80's pop rock station. A song came on that got him in a spunky mood as he started singing while collecting trash from the back porch.

"Josie I've got your number. IIII'm gonna make you mine. Josie don't change your number 867530 ni eee yiiiine." He laughed to himself in amazement at how well that fit with everything.

The doorbell rang in a frenzy. Lee opened it to find Orlando with booze in hand. Wine and whiskey, and of course, munchies.

"Banando!! Come on in man and give me some of that."

Lee grabbed the bottle of whiskey from Orlando's hand and trotted into the kitchen.

"Man, you weren't kidding bro. They really did a number on this place." Dr. Bloom said as his eyes scoured the living room.

"Tell me something I don't know...and if you tell me you open mouth kissed a horse once, I am going to kick your ass."

"Ha ha ha. No...I didn't do that...not recently anyways." Orlando grinned and poured himself a large glass of wine as Lee sat down with the Jim Beam, drinking it straight from the bottle.

"Why does it smell like women's perfume in here dude? You got some chic here somewhere??"

Lee was taken aback that your floral scent still lingered after an entire 12 hours had passed. He figured he must of become nose blind to it, but then he did slightly notice it after Orlando brought it up. The reason he could now smell it was because it was all over his tee shirt from when you had your body against his to help him off the floor...and when you had hugged him, which then explained why Orlando smelled it. Now Lee knew why he could not sleep, besides the fact that you had clouded his mind with your golden eyes and his ears with your angelic voice....and his nose with your succulent sweet scent. He seriously needed a shower, he told himself...a cold one.

"I wish." Lee chuckled. "I think it's your cologne."

"Oh, that's hilarious Bee Gee Lee....Seriously man, I smell it. Who did you have here? What's the big deal?"

"Exactly. What's the big deal?" Lee snarked and took a swig of his whiskey and swiped his finger over his phone., then glared at Orlando as the song by the bee Gee's played called Massachusetts.

Orlando set down his glass and stared at his best friend. "Ok...like...did I just strike some invisible nerve here? What are you not telling me? It's me man. Why do you act like you have some classified secret or something?"

Lee swigged another drink. "Because it is...technically. Doctor patient confidentiality." he smirked.

"Oh hellls naw. Are you shitting me? You're fucking a patient?"

"Whoa, hey. I never said that."

"Uh...you didn't have to. I see it now. It's written all over your sexually deprived face. Who is it? You know you gotta tell me."

"No, I don't."

"Don't or won't?"

"Can't. You know that. If it's a patient...well technically, she's not but.."

"There's that word again, technically. And what?? So there is a...she? Damn it man, spill it."

"Stop getting your also sexually deprived self in a twist. It's just....a girl...that I met at the hospital."

"A girl...a.... girl? Lee mother fucking Pace has met...a girl?" Orlando raved. "Ok, this is news worthy stuff here."

"Ok. This topic is closed. I gotta get this shit hole cleaned up. You helping or not?"

"Yep...I will help....when you tell me who this girl is that has you so damn secretive. Since when have you kept these things like this from me?"

Lee gazed down at his bottle. You weren't just a thing to him, that was why. He respected you, how could he not?

"Since now. I just don't want to talk about it alright? I got too much shit on my mind as it is."

"I'm sorry man. I know how hard this time is for you. I haven't forgotten what yesterday was."

Lee immediately deflected. "So, judging by your attire, I see you just came from the hospital. How are things going there?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Nurse Theresa always up my ass about my handwriting. You know she rudely came into a room when I was tending to a patient and scolded me right in front of her. Such bullshit man. It's how I write. If I try to change it, it will literally take me forever to get things done. Even the patient was pissed off by it. Called her a bitch after she had left the room." Orlando chortled as he pictured that moment.

The good doctor knew that patient was you and he still didn't tell Lee that you had requested to see him, even after he told you he would when he saw Lee again. Orlando wanted his own chance with you and he knew he wouldn't have a prayer against his best friend, since he could tell you were into the ridiculously gorgeous Dr. Pace. Even Nurse Theresa didn't give Lee a hard time and his handwriting was far worse than his. Dr. Bloom had always secretly walked in Lee's shadow.

"You know what I always say to that." Lee coaxed.

"Yep. Fuck em."

Both men bellowed in laughter and continued chatting and drinking for about another hour before attempting to get some work done. It was 1 am and Lee was heavily feeling his tippling inebriated state affecting him. He had never been much of a drinker until the accident and he could usually do it in moderation until the anniversary dates came around, and it certainly didn't help with him by being in that house with all of Jacob's memories and belongings.

Lee just wanted to sell it. Out of sight, out of mind kinda thing. Stupidly he went upstairs to drunk dial Elizabeth and tell her he decided to do it. She had no claim on the property so why he wanted to inform her was even beyond him as he avoided her like the plague. But as usual, his intoxication would always make him do stupid things. Such as drunk texting you as well.

"P.S. I don't want u to let me go." His thumb hesitated over the send button...and then he pushed it. What did he have to lose at this point, he thought. It's relevance was to the end of your prior texting session when you told him you were going to let him go so you could get some sleep.

Then, he called Elizabeth.

"Lizzy...it's me."

"Jesus Lee, it's after 1 in the morning. What the fuck do you want?"

"Do you always have to be such a bitch? I need to tell you something."

"And it couldn't wait till morning? We haven't even spoken in over a year. What could you possibly have to tell me that I could even care about?"

"Ahhh morning. Yes..I am in mourning...still. How about you mommy dearest? Sleeping like a baby at a time like this..."

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe. So? What's it to you? It's how I cope...unlike you who don't give a shit about what happened to your own son. New man less than a month after, new house and a new baby. You've got it all, moved on without a care in the world. Speaking of, that's why I called. To tell you I am going to sell this place. Then all of it will be non existent to you. Oh wait...it already is. My bad."

"And this involves me how exactly? I don't give a shit is right, about what you do with that dump and I am certainly not going to sit here and listen to your drunken rants. You need help Lee. I suggest you get some."

"After what you did to me? To our son, oh sorry, I mean your son. So is your child even the new guy's kid? or are you going to make him believe it is like you did to me? Then drop the bomb on him at the most inopportune time? And if anyone needs help Lizzy, it's you, to learn how to buckle a fucking seatbelt!"

Lee slammed his thumb on the end call button and hurled his phone against the wall as he roared in rage.

Orlando came running up the stairs to find Lee in a panic induced state.

"Lee, man what just happened? I heard you yelling."

Lee slowly turned to him seemingly disoriented.

"Lee! Are you alright man?" Orlando proceeded in concern as Lee wouldn't speak and began to breath heavily.

"Lee, snap out of it man! You're scaring me. I hate it when you get these attacks. You need to breathe..."

Lee knew in that moment how you must have felt just before you passed out. Orlando's words echoed and faded as Lee raced down the stairs and then all went black as he crashed to the floor.

February 4, 2023- 5 am.

Your hand blindlessly fumbled to disable the screeching alarm clock and then you laid back with a sigh after turning the light on. Up you finally went to go get a shower and begin the dreaded day.

Another hobby and talent of yours was ice skating and you were damn good at it too. So good that you could have went down that path professionally, but that wasn't what you wanted as a career. To you, it was just a sport that you began as a child and it became a huge stress and anxiety reliever as you got older. It was all for fun as well and twice a month, you even taught lessons at the ice rink downtown, and one of those days was today. You always went early so you could skate alone with the music blasting and you certainly needed it before you had to go with your mother to make funeral arrangements.

You quickly checked your phone, solely to see if Lee had texted again for any reason and there it was. The one he sent at 1 in the morning telling you he did not want you to let him go. You had to sit back down on the bed for a moment as it had taken you aback. Staring at his words, you pondered on how to even reply to that. What did he mean? A smile formed on your face as you felt a bit flirtatious and sent a simple reply.

"I wasn't planning on it 😉"

Finally, off to the shower you went but not before placing your shirt up over your nose and breathing in his lingering fragrance one last time. You swore you would never wash that shirt.

When you came out, immediately you checked your phone but there was no reply. Of course, though, it was 5:30 am and surely he must be sleeping, you thought. Out of curiosity, you checked the status of the text. Sent but not received. So now you figured his phone must be off and decided to text him later.

It was 7 am when you got to the rink as first you made breakfast for you and your mom, making sure there wasn't enough for Megan when she got up, which probably wouldn't be until late afternoon anyways as she was absolutely unproductive in every aspect of her miserable life.

You unlocked the door and turned on the lights, kicked on the music then sat down and put your skates on.

An oldies genre you picked today, 60's to 70's. You were just in the mood for something different than your usual rock genre. A song came on you hadn't heard in quite awhile. Massachusetts by the Bee Gees.

"Perfect." you said and went gliding out onto the ice. The cold breeze felt so good on your face as you did twizzles around the arena. Your thoughts instantly drifted to Lee and how much you already missed him. As the song concluded, you did a few axle jumps and then whirled around in a camel spin and merging into a sit spin.

You skated until 8:30, then sat down for a break as the class wouldn't begin until 9, which consisted of a dozen girls ranging between the ages of 11 and 13 and would last roughly two hours.

Checking your phone again in hopes to see a text from your dashing doctor, a frown devoured your face to see nothing. Probably still sleeping, you thought. You spent the remaining of your break thinking of him and the way his firm body felt against yours. God, you wanted to see him again so bad.

The class was finally over at 11 am and you then went home to change into something more appropriate for the funeral home appointment.

Noon

Lee awoke on the floor to a raging headache and a broken phone laying beside him....and Orlando asleep on the couch. He grimaced at the sunlight shining on his face and laid his arm over his eyes as he moaned and groaned in agony.

Memories of the prior night were vague but one thing he clearly remembered was stupidly texting you.

He painfully propped himself onto his elbow and saw the shattered screen on his phone. He then recalled throwing it against the wall upstairs after his heated conversation with Elizabeth. Orlando must have brought it down and laid it beside him.

He tried to power it on in desperation to see if you replied but it was dead and most likely trashed.

"Shit..." he muttered through his foul whiskey breath and let it drop from his hand.

Orlando heard the clunk and sprung up with a gasp. He had barely slept as he kept checking Lee throughout the night and early morning to make sure he was breathing. Lee's loud obnoxious snores had assisted in leaving Orlando sleepless so he knew he was going to be alright, but he still had to make sure and monitored his vitals. Dr. Bloom had witnessed these episodes on more than one occasion, even without liquor being a factor, and knew a trip to the ER was not warranted. Lee would have kicked his ass if he had called 911, but Orlando would have done it regardless if he felt it necessary.

"Well look who's up!" he shouted intentionally with a grin.

"Fuck you." Lee snarked and grunted as he placed his hands on his head.

"Oh I am sorry. Am I too loud?" Orlando snickered.

"Yes and I would prefer it if you did not speak at all."

"Well I am going to, to tell you what you already know. That you're a dumb ass. Why the hell do you keep doing this to yourself?? I am always saving you, from high school up to now."

"I was taller than you then, and I still am. I think I can muster the strength to come over there and kick your scrawny ass if you don't shut the hell up."

"Duly noted."

Lee staggered his way up to a standing position and quickly leaned on the wall. He still felt drunk.

"I think I am going to be sick."

He ran off to the bathroom just around the corner and upchucked yesterday's pizza and last night's booze. The taste made him continue his vomiting until he was doing nothing but heaving bile. He laid with his arms draped over the toilet seat and his head hanging almost inside of it.

"God...somebody kill me please." he exclaimed in a growl as he dropped to his butt and leaned up against the bathtub. Orlando peeked around the corner with a now serious and concerned face.

"You're doing a good job of that all on your own. Take some Tylenol with a shit ton of water and go try to sleep. I'll stay. I don't have a shift today. I can make lunch later if you're hungry then."

Lee moaned and laid his head on his knees. "God...no...no food. Man, my phone. It's history. I need it. I have to explain to her..so she understands...."

He abruptly stopped as he remembered exactly what he had said to you.

"Explain what and to whom? Lizzy? I assume that's who you were screaming at since I couldn't help but hear what you said."

"Fuck no...just forget I said anything. Can you go get me my other phone??"

"Just use mine man, if it's that important. It's that girl isn't it? The one you won't tell me about. Damn....you got it bad. I've never seen you act this way over any woman."

"No..." Lee blurted out and raised his blood shot eyes to Orlando. "I...I need one anyways...like now... so could you just do that? Go to the farm and bring me back some soup and crackers or toast. I think I can handle that and keep it down....and feed the animals please? I think my phone is in the kitchen....on the table."

"Alright. I saw Tylenol in the cupboard. Go take some and lay down. I won't be long."

Orlando left and Lee made his way to the kitchen to chug down ice water and take some pills. He stood over the kitchen sink with his hands on the ledge holding himself up and let his head hang as the humiliating events of last night scrambled through his pounding brain.

Off to the couch he went to lay down and try to sleep. All he could think of was you and what you must be thinking due to his blatant text. And he thought of Orlando's words. Yes, he was so right. He had it bad and he didn't know what to do about it.

You ravaged through your wardrobe in disgust. It wasn't that you hated dressier clothing, but the fact of what it was for. What you did hate was heels. You were a boots kinda girl and saved the murderous spikes and unstable wedges for when you had to work on the Haunted Star, as it was a fancy party venue. It absolutely amazed you that you could balance perfectly and gracefully as well as be on spot with coordination on a thin sheer blade over the slickest surface but could twist your ankle or fall at the drop of a hat in a pair of high heels. It wasn't even just the footwear that was a problem, as you were just uncoordinated as hell off the ice. Accident prone was your middle name and you had the scars and bruises to prove it.

You finally chose a long sleeved burgundy button down shirt to pair with your cream colored skirt, completely annoyed with the flimsy material as you fought with trying to find the sleeve.

Then you kicked off your boots and slid your feet into a pair of boring black heels, then pinned up your hair in a messy bun. Mismatched as hell you felt but were running late so it would have to do.

"Jo! Come on...it's time to go. What on earth are you doing up there??" your mom hollered up the stairs.

"Coming!!"

You sat in a chair at the funeral home waiting on the director to come out. Your mom sat beside you with a kleenex clenched tightly in her hands and said nothing until she saw your nose stuck in your phone. You were texting Lee to check on him since it was now 12:22 pm and you had heard nothing. All the usual assumptions ran through your mind as the status still showed sent only. His phone was clearly off. Was it dead? Was he ignoring you? Did he change his mind about wanting to be friends? Did you do or say something wrong? But then your mind wandered to worry. Was he alright? The anxiety was sneaking up. What if he was hurt again? You decided that if you did not hear from him by the time you left, you were going to go check on him.

"Josephine LeeAnn March! Is that all you can do is play on your phone right now?" your mother snapped. She only called you by your full name when she was fed up and meant business.

"Mom...calm down. It's not like we're doing anything at the moment."

"Calm down? Your brother's body is somewhere in this building where we sit and you are more concerned with texting whomever in the hell it is that you are texting. It's that damn doctor isn't it? Why can't you just be happy with Dave? The man adores you and you won't even give him a chance."

You ignored that last part of her ramblings as you were not going to discuss your love life with her.

"Mom...can you not say it like that? His...body."

"How would you have me say it then? That's what it is. You know, I had to see it don't you? To identify him. I couldn't even do it! His face was unrecognizable. All I had to go on was his clothing and his ring. The rest of him was badly burned. Do you know what a sight that was for me??"

"Thanks Mom, I didn't know but now I do after that detailed description. You do remember that I was there when it happened? You so did not need to tell me all this. I have enough anxiety as it is."

"Well maybe you should try taking your medicine and then you wouldn't have that problem." She turned her head and said no more.

God you couldn't take this. No one understood how the medicine made you feel. No one but Lee. You put your phone away to please her and sat with your head turned away as tears burnt your eyes.

It was finally over and you all went back home with a funeral date only days away. You didn't even bother going inside and quickly got in your car, taking off like a bat out of hell with a destination of Lee's place. One more time, you attempted to contact him by calling this time. It went straight to voicemail. You contemplated on leaving a message as his beautiful voice flowed into your ear.

"You've reached Dr. Pace. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, call 911 or go to the nearest hospital."

It was an emergency. You needed him but how ridiculous was it that you felt that way over someone you barely knew. Maybe you should just call Dave instead, you thought. No, you couldn't. You didn't want to. Something felt off and you were extremely worried about Lee after how you had found him...and even more so after his strange text in the early morning hours. Had he been drinking again?

Trying to compose your voice, you left a brief message.

"Hey Lee, it's me...I mean Jo...just wanted to check on you. I'm actually on my way to your place right now. I hope that is alright. Please all me back...or text. Ok...bye."

Your voice started to break up as you had told him to call you back. You hurried and ended the call so if by chance he got the message, he wouldn't hear you being a big baby. You honestly thought you should just turn around but something wouldn't let you.

You cried all the way there after a song played that struck every chord in your soul. You had noticed the clock when it had started. 2:22 pm. Strangely, it was the time you were born. You had this thing with seeing numbers in various ways and at certain moments, wether it was the time, catching the microwave's countdown or even the total on a purchase just to name a few. It was always double or triple digits of the same number. 11, 22, 33, and 44 were the big ones for you, and the 3's came in other ways too, such as the eerie pattern of celebrity deaths. The clairvoyance probability really wasn't that far fetched.

The first time you ever kissed his mouth, you absolutely did feel the earth move in your hand like the trembling heart of a captive bird....just like the lyrics said. You were in way over your head with this man. He had awoken something in you and made you feel alive again. He made you breathe....and without him, you would suffocate.

You pulled into the driveway behind his car and noticed the clock at 2:44. You released a stunned giggling sigh, wiped your eyes and got out, quietly closing the door.

As you came to the front door, you could see Lee through the three small windows it held, sitting on the floor playing catch with a ball against the wall.

You could hear soft muffled music and him singing from inside as you knocked but he didn't hear you, so you walked in.

"Lee?"

He then heard your voice and turned his head.

When he saw that it was you, he eagerly staggered his way up and almost ran into the wall, in which he then leaned on as a crutch. You could tell he had been drinking or maybe even on something else.

"Miss Massachusetts. What are you doing here?"

You sucked in a breath and began rambling.

"I'm sorry, the door...it was open and you didn't hear me. I..I wanted to check on you...your phone...is off or something. I....I hope it's ok that I came."

His body moved unsteadily as he tried to balance and seemingly didn't want to look you in the eyes.

"Yeah...that. Sorry.. I kinda broke my phone. Seems it can't handle the impact of a wall. But my other one should be here soon. Of course it's alright that you came. I am glad you did Jo March. Sucks being here all alone."

'Ohhh...yeah. That can happen." you lightly laughed. "Lee...are you alright?"

"Never better...now that you're here anyways....So...you came all the way here to check on me? Why?"

"I...I was worried about you when you didn't respond to my texts and call."

"You...texted and called? Shit...I am sorry. My phone...I broke it."

"So you already told me. Lee, what's going on?" You sat your purse down and walked over to him as you were worried he was going to fall.

His eyes looked you up and down and then he just gazed at you. His eyes were so glassy and his pupils dilated. He was definitely highly intoxicated, or just high....maybe both.

"My god, you...you are so beautiful it hurts."

Your lips slightly parted as a small gasp escaped them. How were you going to respond to that?

As you went to offer a simple thank you, the door opened and in walked Dr. Bloom.

@redeemer46

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

QUICK NEW YORK HEADCANNONS WHILE I DECIDE WHETHER OR NOT I WANNA WRITE A MAMA JERSEY HURT/COMFORT FANFIC:

-New York unashamedly headbutts those that are taller than him (such as Texas or Alaska). The others don’t know why he does this, they’ve just accepted it at this point. It also happens to those that are the same height as him.

-he is the youngest child, but he is the tallest and the scariest of his siblings

-he has a GIANT scar on his back running from the top of his left shoulder down to his hip that he got from 9/11 and he’s really insecure about it

-I think this is a universal agreement: York can purr and will purr if you run a hand through his hair, scratch his scalp, scratch him under the chin or behind the ear (these two are a bit difficult to get to because he might duck away from you)

-he CAN and WILL bite you if you give him a reason. And it’s gonna hurt like a b**ch cuz’ he has sharp little fangs like a vampire-

[izutsoupmi]

based on the current pacing i put together a rough estimate of how the rest of the episodes might play out.

episode 7-just chapter 10 padded out

8-12,13

9-14,15

10-16,22 OR just 16 padded out

11-17,18 (hopefully the biggest budget episode)

12-19,20

13-just 21 padded out

this makes the second loco/lieber fight, the sister gigant fight, and the lord enorme fight/punishment each their own episode. i dont think we're getting the beach party sadly unless they cut a chapter or squeeze 3 into one episode. but i think ending right when utena resolves her internal conflict between loving magical girls and hurting them is also pretty good. And I think the beach party would make for a fantastic first episode if we get a season 2!

First of all I wanna say that it's so sick and twisted (appreciative) of them to air ch10 on Valentine's day.

This makes sense! set up the Legion as a force to be reckoned with (Gigant crushing them (Miss Izumi Fuuka i am waiting with bated breath for this you have no idea), then Kiwi getting Loco'd, then Matama being punished by Lord), then have the big Leberloco fight in one go, since we don't do cliffhangers, then The Room My Beloved for a closer look at the new characters (and if we do add ch 22, Matama "firing" Nemo is immediately addressed), and the two final fights.

It would be a shame to not get to see La Verità beyond a little tease, and the final page of ch 24 is just SUCH a good closer (you don't need me to show you but I'm gonna do it anyway)

BUT it's true that, without a confirmed second season, introducing something like LV in the last episode could feel kind of odd, like it shifts the balance in Tres Magia's favor. The end of ch 21 is a bit sillier, but it fits the general tone AND it'd end at a high point for Utena, who's like our main character or whatever

[writerlyhabits]

New York

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: You can take the boy out of Brooklyn, but you can’t take Brooklyn out of the boy. 

Ch 12 of the Neighbors Series | Masterlist | Ch. 11 | Ch. 13

Warnings: mild language, pet names cause he’s a sap, suggestive behavior, SMUT (masturbation, m and f), some hurt/comfort at the end cause I like to hurt myself, i think that’s all I can say 🤷‍♀️

AN: oh my god it's finally here 🫠 And I’m apologizing in advance; I don’t know anything about Brooklyn, so what you see here is based on sparse research when I felt like it… and made up bits when I didn’t 😂 If I say anything else, I’m gonna incriminate myself, so just… read the chapter and have a good time, I’ll see you on the other side. @deceiverofgodss you’re a saint as always, thank you for your unhinged comments 💛

Gif from @lowkeysebastianstan

When Bucky got home from his session Saturday morning, he found you curled up on the couch still in your pajamas, a mug of something hot in your hand and your computer in your lap. You had your brows furrowed in concentration at whatever was on your screen, but it quickly changed into a bright smile when he opened the door. 

“Hey! How’d it go?” you asked sweetly as he closed the door behind him. He gave a shrug as he started peeling off his jacket, his usual response to your weekly question. 

“I mean, it… it wasn’t awful,” he grumbled, earning a giggle from you. 

“That’s an improvement from your usual grunt and glare,” you teased, pulling a half smile out of him as he turned to hang his jacket on the wall next to yours. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Mmm, hard pass.” Your laughter floated through the air as he moved into the kitchen to grab a slice of banana bread from the counter, the loaf more than halfway gone since it had come out of the oven the night before. He could have polished it off this morning, but he saved himself from your pouting and left you plenty to snack on. 

“Did you just finish that?” you whined. 

“Did you book the hotel yet?” Bucky shot back with his mouth full. Not exactly how he thought he’d bring up the question, but it would get him his answer nonetheless. 

“No, I’m doing it right now,” you groaned, rolling your head dramatically as you turned back to your computer. 

“Good, book it for Friday night, too.” You furrowed your brows at him in confusion, and he held his hands up in defense before you could open your mouth. “I talked to Raynor about it. We rescheduled next week’s appointment so that I go in Friday while you’re at work, and then we can drive up to New York once you get home.” 

“So you did talk to your therapist. I never thought I’d see the day.” He rolled his eyes at your jab – a fair shot, he’d be the first to admit it – but softened when he saw how excited you were to have that little bit of extra time to plan for.

Bucky did talk to his therapist. And he was on his best behavior the entire time… because he wanted something out of it. And he was sure Raynor saw through it, but she conveniently let it slide when she was finally getting answers to her questions. She’d had a field day when he mentioned your birthday trip to Brooklyn, opening up an entire session’s worth of questions about you, the trip, and everything in between. And because of it, she was more than happy to do him a favor when it meant extending something she deemed so important for him. 

Well… it was important to him. You were important to him. He’d bend over backwards – or worse, cooperate with his therapist – without a second thought if it meant making you happy. 

“You wanna come help me pick out a room?” No. He couldn’t have cared less about the room. But you wanted to include him in the planning of the trip, and he wanted to do what you wanted to. So he nodded, shoved the last of the banana bread in his mouth, and made his way over to you. 

“What’re my options?” he asked, circling around behind you so that he could brace himself against the couch, and lean down to look at the screen over your shoulder. 

“Well, if I get a room with two beds, the best I can get will be a view of the bay. But if I get joint single rooms, I can get one with a view of the statue,” you explained, leaving him more confused than before. 

“Two rooms… why do we need more than one bed? Who else is coming?” He asked, brows creased together in confusion as he looked down at you. 

“Well, no one…” When you looked up at him he raised his eyebrows slightly to signal he was waiting for more, and you huffed. “I just wanted to give you options. It took you weeks to try sleeping in my bed, and these might not be comfortable for you, so I-” 

“Okay, hang on.” Bucky pushed himself up to move in front of you, pulling the computer out of your lap despite your rebuttal and placing it on the coffee table before cornering you into the couch. “I didn’t turn down your bed for my own, my alternative was the couch or the floor. And that’s exactly how it’ll be in a hotel room.” 

“I just wanted to make sure you had space, in case you-” 

“And I appreciate that sweetheart, but you don’t need to spend extra money on a bed I won’t touch.” You still seemed skeptical, and he had to refrain himself from laughing at how concerned you seemed to be about this when there was a very simple answer. 

Maybe you just needed a little reminding.

He hooked one finger under your chin and leaned in closer. “Whose bed was I in last night?” He said, his voice low and smooth. You blinked a few times, your brain trying to catch up as you looked at him with those pretty eyes. “And the night before that, and the night before that…” he whispered, getting closer as he spoke. 

“Mine,” you breathed, eyes darting down to his lips, and he couldn’t help the smirk starting to form. 

“Atta girl.” You shivered and swallowed hard at his words. He did his best to ignore it. “If I’m going to sleep in a bed, it’s gonna be right next to you. Does that help?” You nodded as you started to smile too, and in his proximity he could feel the heat of your cheeks. “Good.”

Taking that to mean the conversation was over, he pulled your chin forwards so he could lock his lips to yours, his hand sliding around the back of your neck as he continued kissing you. Your lips slotted against his like they were made for him, and he pulled sweet sounds out of you as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Fuck he could get lost in you so easily… 

Instead, he pulled away just as your hands had started to trail up his chest, and watched your blissed out expression change when you realized what he was doing. 

“Tease,” you shot at him. He only grinned in response before leaning in for a chaste kiss, pushing off of the back of the couch, and walking away. You grumbled behind him, reaching over for your computer again to book one hotel room, and he was filled with a strange pride at the state he left you in. 

He was going to have to do something about his rampant desire soon. For now he was content teasing you, flustering you, making you wait.

… 

The three hour drive up to Brooklyn had gone by faster than you would have anticipated, with your super-soldier in the passenger seat providing constant entertainment. He was fascinated by the navigator, showing his age every time it updated the route or reminded you of directions, even going as far as to say it would have come in handy when his family made the drive to Indiana to move Becca in for school. He’d fiddled with the music the entire drive, and you were pleasantly surprised when he landed on a classic rock station and seemed to enjoy it. 

And any time you were stopped, either at a red light or in traffic, he had his hand in your hair and his mouth on yours. 

Bucky had been insatiable as of late. Ever since the first night he stayed over – after you were rudely interrupted by River’s phone call – it was like you had unlocked a whole new side of him you hadn’t known existed. He’d always been flirty, but he didn’t just make you smile like a blushing schoolgirl. Now it became a regular habit for him to get you all hot and bothered, only to leave you hanging with a smirk on his face and a puddle between your legs.

He knew it, too. Cocky shit. He was doing it on purpose, and you were hanging on by a thread at this point, close to begging for him to just do something about it. 

But you were as patient as he was stubborn. So you would wait. 

Your strong resolve didn’t help when it came to ignoring the effect he had on you, and it only proved harder to keep up the act when you crossed over into the city lines. It was as if the ladies man James Barnes once was had been trapped in Brooklyn all these years, and now that he was home, it was anyone's guess what he was capable of. 

When you got to the hotel, he’d been a perfect gentleman. Opening doors for you, doing all the heavy lifting with your bags, and keeping a hand attached to you at all times. A hand on the small of your back as he followed you through the building, practically standing on top of you as you checked in, and cradling you under his arm in the elevator. 

Being on a vacation looked good on him, and the trip had barely even started. 

Getting into the room you were momentarily distracted by the view, the whole reason you had spent hours trying to figure out which hotel you liked best. Staying near the Brooklyn Bridge gave you a beautiful view of the water in the upper bay, the Statue of Liberty standing tall and elegant against the purples and oranges of the evening sky. 

You heard Bucky throw your bags onto the one bed he was so adamant about, and you were tempted to make a playful comment about it. Before you could open your mouth, his mis-matched hands were sliding around your waist, pulling you into his chest from your spot in front of the window. You relaxed into him, leaning back to rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you took in the view, settling your hands over his.

“What do you think?” You asked, tearing your eyes away to look up at him, finding those blue eyes already looking down at you. 

“Beautiful,” he muttered, his lips turning up in a soft smile. 

“You’re not even looking,” you laughed, and in complete contradiction to your exasperated tone, you reached up to cup his cheek with one hand, playing with his stubble. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Well… I can only think about the fact that I haven’t kissed you properly in three hours, and how much I want to fix it,” he stated with a boyish grin. And as you started to laugh, he took your jaw in his large hands to tilt your head back even further, manuevering you in just the right way for his mouth to reach yours when he leaned down for a kiss. 

It was clumsy and distracted, both of you laughing in between kisses, but it made you feel just as warm and tingly as any other. After a few minutes of this giggly make out session he leaned back and looked at you, his eyes sparkling as he took in every feature. 

He gave you one more – no, two more – chaste kisses before he opened his mouth. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” you laughed, earning a chuckle from him in return. “What do you want, birthday boy?”

“Pizza,” he said matter of factly, like he’d had his mind made up for hours. “Really good pizza.” 

“Oh my god, you are from New York.” That earned a glare as he tried to hide his growing grin, before taking it upon himself to find a place to live up to his expectations. 

…

The next morning Bucky woke up before you, he always did. He watched the sun rise over the skyline, Liberty looking elegant as ever against the changing colors of the sky. It felt good to be home. He admired you as the orange rays bathed you in a warm light, glowing in the oranges of the early morning, perfectly content holding you close to his chest. 

The night before had gone just like any other, the same routines and patterns as you settled into the room. You’d insisted he order half of a pizza, which admittedly ended up being a good idea; it was the best pizza he’d had in years, and had eaten most of it the night before, the few slices leftover as tempting of a breakfast as ever. He made a comment about you wearing his shirt as pajamas, you made a comment about his lack of one before crawling into bed beside each other. And maybe it was the slightly closer quarters the hotel room put you in, but there was something different about it, something untraceable. 

Whatever it was, he liked it. 

He liked being at the foot of the bed when you came out of the shower all wrapped up in a towel, still damp as you stood between his legs to steal kisses. It was intimate, but it was also comfortable and safe. He’d wrapped you in his tender affection, while simultaneously pushing down his desires to slip his hands up under your towel and show you just how much he appreciated being here with you. 

But he didn’t. Which led him to where he was now, trying to focus on the view you had paid so much for and ignore the familiar feeling creeping up his spine, growing below the belt. Not an ideal situation to be in when your ass was pressing right into him, completely unaware of his struggles in your sleep. 

He could do this. He’d done it before, having to ignore his lustful instincts when you were cuddled up to him like this. He could ignore the way your soft lips parted ever so slightly, the way your curves fit to him like a puzzle piece. The way his hands felt wrapped around your body, fingertips brushing against the hem of his old shirt that had ridden up your frame in the night, leaving your thighs completely exposed…

Fuck. 

Why did you have to make it so damn hard? 

Why did you have to make him hard?

You stirred gently, and Bucky had to close his eyes and take a hard swallow when you pushed back into him, hoping to everything that was good that you couldn’t feel the tent forming in his sweatpants. His thumb rubbed gentle patterns into your abdomen as you started to wake up, grounding himself as you stretched your limbs. 

“G’morning,” you managed, looking over your shoulder with a sleepy smile. 

“Morning, pretty girl,” he said, low and smooth. He hadn’t meant for his voice to do that. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, and he felt your satisfied hum through your entire body. 

Torture. You were a special kind of torture made just for him. 

“How long’ve you been awake?” you drawled, resting your hand back over his. 

“Maybe an hour.” Maybe more, he had no idea. He wasn’t paying attention, he was preoccupied with the images of you his brain conjured up when his desires got the better of him. 

“Why didn’t you get up?” You giggled, sounding incredulous. You always did, even though he rarely left the bed while you were still sleeping, not if he could help it. He thought about his answer while he let the arm draped over you wander, where he brushed against the underside of your breast. 

“Didn’t want to leave you.” The words were coming out of his mouth, but the gravely, husky tone it came out with was there of its own accord. He was having a hard time keeping his breathing steady, but you gave another relaxed giggle at his response.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you hummed. The two of you sat like that for a few moments, and he swore his heart was beating so hard against his chest you had to have felt it. “What do you wanna do today?” 

You. 

“Whatever you want, sugar.” You smiled bashfully as you curled further into him, his erection twitching at the extra friction. 

“I love it when you call me that,” you sighed, light and airy and driving him crazy. He cocked an eyebrow to try and get more out of you. “I can hear the New York in you come out, makes me all gooey.” 

“Oh yeah?” Bucky grinned. This was hardly even playing fair, you had him eating out of the palm of your hands. He had to know more. “What else makes you all gooey?” 

You hummed a laugh. “I can’t give up all my secrets… you already abuse your powers as it is.” 

Damn right he did.

“You gonna make me guess, baby girl?” he teased, pulling out his secret weapon from the night he gave you a massage. You shivered beneath him, and he chuckled. “Oh? Is that one of ‘em?” he asked innocently, pleased this new nickname was eliciting such a response out of you. 

Bucky pulled himself up just enough to brush the side of your neck with the tip of his nose. You tilted your head to give him more room as he hovered over your skin, his breath tickling you as he made his way to the sweet spot just below your ear. You took a breath when he reached his destination, and he smiled against you before giving you a kiss. 

“There’s another one,” he lilted, pressing a few more kisses there. And then his mind wandered, as was bound to happen when he had you like this. His thoughts drifted and the hand keeping you close to him followed, slowly trailing up your body. “And I wonder…” he whispered in your ear, sending another shiver through you. 

When his large hand slid over your covered breast, pert nipple peeking through the thin material of his old shirt, you gasped. It was music to his ears. 

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” he husked, nipping your earlobe to earn himself another gasp. You gripped his wrist to find some kind of purchase when he squeezed your soft skin, a groan slipping past his lips. 

Bucky took your stiff bud and started with a gentle pinch, testing to see how far you were willing to let him go, delighted when your back arched to seek him out. He kept placing kisses down the side of your neck as he twisted and squeezed it, giving both of your nipples the attention they deserved, the attention he’d been longing to show them. He stopped every few moments to grab handfuls of your tits, his cock stirring in his pants with each gasp he pulled out of you. 

You were clouding his brain. The way you felt in his hands, the pretty sounds falling out of your mouth, and the fact that he knew it was all for him. 

Good god he needed more. 

You made a sound of disappointment when he placed his hand on your sternum, just out of the way as he took a second to steady himself. “Should I keep finding ways to make you melt for me, sweetheart?” He muttered, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. 

“Yes… James, please,” you whined, and he couldn’t help the amusement that rumbled through his chest. Oh, his poor baby, already so needy for him… 

He wasn’t any better. He needed you bad. 

Bucky shifted so that he was sitting up a little more, your head resting on his vibranium forearm – which you had assured him was surprisingly comfortable – as he laid you on your back. With his right hand, he followed the curves of your body as he trailed downwards, and you squirmed in anticipation. 

“C’mon Sarge, don’t tease.” Fuck… it always did things to him when you pulled rank, probably more than it should have. But it was wired into his brain from decades past, and his erection was almost painful at this point. 

You gave him an order, so he cut to the chase. 

Bucky took your leg and hooked it over his own, hands digging into the soft skin of your thigh, and making a point to tease you as he trailed his fingertips down the inside of your leg. When his thumb brushed against your clothed core, you let out the prettiest whimper, just as pent up as he was. 

He pushed your panties to the side to slide his fingers through your weeping folds, his head spinning at the sensation. And then when he pushed two thick fingers through, he was just barely able to hear your moan over his own. It was damn near pornographic, your hand flying to tangle into the hair on the back of his head while the other gripped the sheets. 

“Buck, I need- shit, I need-“ You cut yourself off with a sharp gasp when he started pumping his digits at a comfortable speed, your slick making it more than easy for him to set his pace. Your mouth hung open in an ‘o’ shape, your face screwed up in pleasure. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you, baby girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek – hot and flushed against his lips – as your walls fluttered around him. “Fuck, squeezing me so tight… m’gonna take care of you,” he rattled off, his mouth moving completely separate from his brain. 

He flattened his palm against your mound, putting pressure on your clit and making your eyes roll back, the juices from your sex making it easy to glide right where you needed him. He changed his tactic, moving his hand in a way that would rub your sweet bundle of nerves just right. 

“God you’re so wet… doin so good for me, peach,” he murmured, resting his forehead against your temple as he kissed your cheek again. His movements were steady, and his easy pace reduced you to a moaning mess in no time. 

One of his motions against your clit had you letting out a choked whine, and you turned to face him. “James, I- faster…” you pleaded softly, resting your forehead against his, desperation written in your features. “I need you, faster- yes!” 

Bucky did exactly as he was told, knowing what you needed. He sent you hurtling towards your climax as his hand worked your perfect pussy with an unmatched speed, your breathing heavy between the blissful sounds you were making. He may have had mixed feelings about the serum running through his veins, but in this moment he was grateful for it, knowing he would be able to keep up with this pace – or a faster one if need be – without faltering when you needed him most. 

You were beautiful. Ethereal, bathing in the golden light as you writhed under his ministrations. He had no doubt he was already leaking precum, but he paid no mind to it. He only had one thing on his mind, and it was to worship you. He would kneel at your altar, lift you up onto your pedestal, cast a prayer to the skies in your name…

You let out a choked moan, walls clenching right around his hand, and your legs began to twitch as he kept them open. 

You were so close…

“Buck, I-”

“I know baby, I feel you.” A shiver ran through your body as he replied, and he chuckled under his breath. “I’ll make you feel so good… Atta girl, squeeze me tight,” he husked. Talking seemed to distract him from his own needs while helping yours, and it was hard to stop his affections from pouring out of his mouth. 

“You gonna cum for me, sweets? Show me how good it feels, make a mess for me.” Your nails scratched his scalp as you toyed with his hair, legs shaking as you gripped onto reality with a vice. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky…” You breathed in a high pitched whine, and he knew the sound of you saying his name like that would be echoing through his head for days. “I’m.. I- Buck-” 

He cut you off with his lips, silencing you with a crushing kiss. Your lips parted almost instantaneously, and he invaded your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours as your body began to shake with sensations you couldn’t control. 

He knew exactly when you snapped, he could feel it everywhere, surrounding both of you. A moan rumbled from the back of your throat, your legs trembling as your pussy squeezed the life out of his fingers. He broke away from the kiss and you took in a sharp breath, taking short quick gasps as the force of your orgasm hit you, and he pressed calming kisses to your forehead as he worked you through your high. He only stopped when the hand that had been gripping at the sheets snatched his wrist to stop him from overstimulating you, the aftershocks hitting you hard enough without it being too much. 

Bucky was a goner. Now that he’d been graced with the sight of you falling apart by his hands, he wanted to make you feel that good until the end of time. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, smiling as your head lulled onto the pillow. He chuckled when your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Good?” 

“Mmhmm.” His face cracked into a boyish grin as he closed in to brush your noses together, giving you a chaste kiss. He nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck, lifting your head up off of the pillow and earning a giggle from you when he started littering kisses there. “If this is what ‘good morning’ looks like in Brooklyn, I could get used to it.” 

Bucky gave a full belly laugh, interrupted from his barrage of affection as he leaned against your shoulder. He went to sit up and look at you, but as he moved he was reminded that his fingers were still buried inside of you, your walls still squeezing him tight as you came down from your climax. 

He ignored the twitch in his pants. Just five more minutes. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, sweets,” he teased. Before you could open your mouth to retort back, he started easing his fingers out of your sensitive pussy, focused on your expression as you clenched around him. “Shhh, relax for me baby. I got you.” 

Your sigh of relief when he slid all the way out went straight through his core, and he almost reached up to brush a stray hair from your forehead… But he was covered in your juices, and while he didn’t mind it one bit – he was entranced by it, in fact – he figured you might not appreciate it if he made a mess out of you after your shower the night before. 

Acting on instinct, and only a trace amount of thinking from the wrong head, Bucky slipped his fingers into his mouth. He couldn’t stop the sound that came from the back of his throat when your taste hit his tongue. He was lucky you were already over-sensitive, otherwise he would have buried his head between your legs and stayed there for hours. 

He already knew he would get addicted to you fast. 

“Fuck, James, you can’t do that to me,” you grumbled, breaking into a giggle as you looked away from him. “I’m not… I can’t think straight, and you’re sitting there licking  your hands like… I don’t know, just, gimme a minute,” you laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder. And after stealing another kiss, pleased when you moaned at the taste of yourself, he slid out of bed with a promise he’d be right back. 

Once he got to the small bathroom he had to brace himself against the counter, trying to steady his breathing, anything to calm the tent in his pants for two damn seconds. He couldn’t just leave you out there, swoop in for a good time and get up like it was nothing. You deserved better than that. 

When Bucky walked out with a damp washcloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other, he melted when he caught your sleepy smile. 

“Falling asleep on me?” He teased, and you gave a lazy giggle. 

“What are you up to?” You asked with a cocked eyebrow, the way you did when you knew he was getting up to trouble. 

“I promised I was gonna take care of you. Can’t leave my best girl hanging.” As he walked back over to the bed he watched your face change as you realized what he was doing, and something in his heart hurt when he watched astonishment cross your features. And then, before he could do anything about it, you gave him a sheepish smile as you rolled into the pillows. 

By the time he was finished cleaning you up – cuddling up close to you, kissing anywhere he could reach, whispering sweet nothings into your skin – your body was catching up with you, worn out after the workout he’d given you. He wanted so badly to be able to just lay there with you, but he could only hold on for so long. 

Instead, gave you a soft kiss to your cheek. “M’gonna take a shower, okay?” You nodded lazily, and he felt a little less guilty leaving you alone in the bed. 

And he felt a lot better once he slipped into the bathroom, his sweatpants cast to the side with more effort than he would have liked to admit. His cock sprung up out of his boxers, and it was bordering on painful how hard he was, having to give himself a few quick tugs before he got into the shower. 

Bucky let out a groan once the hot water hit his back, bracing himself against the wall with his vibranium arm. He wrapped his right hand around himself again, starting to pump at a steady pace and letting out a breathy curse at the relief that flooded his body. 

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, remembering the way you felt clenched around his fingers, making his tip start to leak once again. What he wouldn’t give to feel your walls clenching around his cock, milking him for all he was worth while he thrusted into your warmth. 

He would bet money your mouth felt just as good, his breaths labored as an image of you bobbing your head on his dick crossed his eyelids. Kneeling in front of him here in the shower, one hand wrapped around the base while you swirl your tongue against the spot just under his swollen head.

Bucky was fighting for his life. “Shit…” He almost doubled his pace, desperate for release as his sensitive cock throbbed in his hands. The plates of his arm whirred as he pushed against the shower wall, a split second of worry passing through him about whether he would break the wall. 

Your voice filtered through his head as a familiar flame licked at the base of his spine, reducing him to grunts and needy whimpers as his perfect memory projected your blissed out expression across the back of his eyelids. The way you said his name as you danced on the edge of reality woke a desire from deep within him. He was consumed with the idea of getting you to scream his name, claw at his back as he pounded into you… 

He choked on a cry as his climax washed over him, focusing his motions in short, quick pumps at his tip. For once, his mind was peacefully blank as he blew his load, his cum shooting out in ropes onto his hand. When his spend trickled down until it pebbled at his tip, he fumbled forward to rest his forehead against the cool vibranium of his forearm. 

He had no idea how long he stood like that, but it took him a minute to remember how to breathe let alone try to wash his hair. He hadn’t felt that good in a while, and you hadn’t even touched him. He could only wonder how it would feel if you did…

Bucky had to physically shake the thought from his head, worried about causing pain to his softening dick if he wandered too far down that line of thought. His super soldier stamina had caught up with him, no longer needing to support himself on the wall and turning to run his face under the water. 

Instead, he reminded himself of what was waiting for him back in the room in an attempt to calm his own thoughts. Think about the pretty girl waiting for him beneath the covers, tuckered out and cozy in his shirt. As he lathered it into his hair, he came to terms with the fact that the hotel shampoo didn’t smell as good as yours at home, and yet he was no less excited to crawl right up next to you and bury his nose in your hair. To mould his body to fit in every nook and cranny yours offered him, to have you as close as humanly possible while he planted his lips everywhere he could reach. 

That’s not what was waiting for him when he got out of the bathroom. 

Standing at the foot of the bed, you were fully dressed. Your suitcase was laying opn on the bed, which was fully made, and you were reorganizing your clothes back inside of it to tuck away again. And when you noticed him standing there staring at you, still damp with his towel wrapped around his waist, you simply gave him a sweet smile. 

How long had he been in the shower?

“You alright, Buck?” you laughed, referring to the way his eyebrows were creasing his forhead. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand – he hadn’t been gone that long, you should still have been in bed. 

He licked his lips as he started to close the distance between you. “You shouldn’t be functioning right now, baby girl,” he cooed, and he took notice of the way you leaned against the edge of the bed at his words. He sauntered up to you and reached for your waist, pulling you close to his half naked body again. 

“If I did what I was supposed to, you should be layin’ over there with wobbly knees.” You slung your arms around his shoulders to support yourself, and he wasted no time leaning down to tease your jawline. “Did I not do my job? Do I need to do it again?” he grinned. 

You put a little bit more of your weight in his arms as you leaned against him, arms wrapped tighter around his neck. “Buck don’t, I’m still shaky,” you managed in a half groan, half giggle. Damn right you were. He couldn’t help but laugh as he secured you in his arms, holding you steady to him. 

“Then what the hell are you doing dressed? I was supposed to come back and cuddle up to you, help you with all this. You’re makin’ me look bad,” he teased. 

“Because there was a chance if I didn’t get dressed, we would never leave the hotel room. What kind of birthday weekend would that be?” 

“I don’t know, that sounds like a pretty fun time to me,” he shrugged, and you slipped both of your hands down to smack his chest. You would never admit it, but you loved doing it, and he loved how much you enjoyed his body. 

“I brought you to Brooklyn for a reason you know,” you giggled, leaning back down to place an apology kiss on his chest. You lingered over towards his left shoulder and pressed your lips up against the scarred skin, right on the line where metal met man. 

He went a little stupid every time you did that. 

“There’s a park a few blocks away… you wanna pick somewhere for lunch and eat it there?” You suggested while he was still holding the cables together to try and hotwire his brain back to a starting position. 

“Mmhmm, sounds good,” he nodded, watching you smile up at him like he held the world up on his shoulders. “I’m ready when you are, sugar.” 

You giggled. “Sure, once I put on makeup, and you put some clothes on,” you sassed, pulling away to look down at his towel clad body. 

“What, you don’t like the view?” he grinned, and you only raised a brow at him. 

“This view?” You took your free hand and gestured to his figure. “The one that’s only for me? Cause I don’t feel like sharing.” He chuckled at your shameless claim – he liked it. You turned to walk away from him and keep getting ready for the day, but before he let you go too far he reached out and smacked your ass, earning an amused huff. 

… 

The day had gone better than you ever could have hoped. Bucky picked an old deli for lunch, one that had apparently been around at least ten years longer than he had. As you waited to place your order, he told you old stories about the place; how their minimalistic industrial decor complimented the original design, the faces they would make when Steve ordered his god-awful sandwiches, and meals when the Barnes family had enough saved to splurge on a lunch out. 

It was a beautiful day for March in New York, the sun shining bright and a calm breeze giving life to a few kids with their kites. Very similar to your valentines day picnic, Bucky pulled you over to sit beneath the shade of a tree, and only when the sandwiches were gone did you realize he had a reason. You went to ask if he was ready to go, and before you could get the words out he took your face in his hands to kiss you senseless, resulting in an unplanned – but not unwelcome – makeout session tucked away in the middle of Brooklyn. 

When you managed to drag him away from the park, you begged and pleaded until he agreed to show you around his old neighborhood, hiding his smile when you had gotten your way. Bucky lit up when he recognized a few of the old buildings, and you listened happily to his ramblings as he took your hand and gave you the full tour. Alleyways where he’d saved Steve from fights (“I think this one was his favorite, I couldn’t tell you how many times I found him here”), the old movie theater he used to take his sister to, and a trendy new restaurant that replaced his favorite club to take girls dancing. 

Your final stop before dinner was the bakery Jay had once talked about at the diner, where they had his cousin Miles’ favorite chocolate cake. Bucky sweet talked you into trying the shop’s banana bread before you made it up to the counter to pick up the small cake you ordered, having to tell the clerk you did in fact want “106” iced on top, excusing it as an inside joke. 

By the time you got back to the hotel after dinner, you were exhausted from having walked across damn near the whole city. And yet, when Bucky played Glenn Miller’s “Serenade in Blue” from his phone, you happily took his hand and let him sway you back and forth to the familiar song. 

“It’s our song,” he’d explained after claiming he wouldn’t let a single Saturday night go by without dancing with his girl. “The day you asked me to teach you how to dance, this was the song I taught you how to slow dance to.” And you nuzzled into him a little closer when he did, warm and cozy and content in his arms, wrapped in the affection that he so willingly offered. 

Bucky Barnes was your weakness, and you didn’t want it any other way. 

When you got out of the shower, clad in just his red henley once again, Bucky was already in bed looking out the window. Liberty was lit up against the purples of the night sky, and she looked beautiful, but his gaze didn’t meet the statue. When you approached the nightstand on your side to plug your phone in, he turned back to you and offered a distracted smile. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You asked, turning out the lamp so the room was illuminated by the lights of the city below, and crawling under to covers to snuggle up to his side. He was more than happy to open his arms to let you in, and he began to trace soothing patterns into your back as you laid on his chest. “I can see the gears turning, you better let me in there,” you teased. 

He smiled as he let out an amused breath. “I was just thinkin’… I don’t know, being back home made me wonder…” He furrowed his eyebrows as he searched for the right words. “Do you think you would’ve liked me, back in the 40s? D’you think we would have gotten together?” 

Oh. 

“Oh I think so,” you sighed, pleased when he seemed to relax a little at your statement. “At least for me. From what I’ve heard, you were kinda perfect. Strong, smart, charming… you were the whole package. The real question is whether Mr, Ladies Man would’ve liked me.”

“Of course I would.” He sounded offended, and when you looked up to see his face you saw his eyebrows creased between concern and confusion. He rolled you both on your sides and shifted down so that he was at eye level with you, taking your face in his hands. “I would have been so crazy for you, sweets, you have no idea.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled, taking whatever insecurity had brought this on and turning it into a game. Luckily, he understood the assignment, smiling back at you and pulling you into him as he thought of a response. 

“Mhmm. Would’ve taken you dancing anytime you asked, told the band to play our song every night. I would’ve taken you home and shown you off to my folks, rubbed it in Steve’s face.” You hummed when he wrapped his arms back around your waist. “Hell, I would have ditched draft for you. Run away and carved out a life all our own.”

Your heart couldn’t decide whether it was hurt or flattered. Ditching the draft for you?

“No you wouldn’t,” you settled on, your tone warm and soft. He furrowed his eyebrows again, making that crease you loved so much. 

“You don’t believe me?” He asked, a hint of playfulness behind it. “Do I need to prove it to you?”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” you laughed, stopping him before he got any ideas. “I have no doubt you would have wanted to, but you wouldn’t. You’re too good to do something like that.” 

“Yeah well, I didn’t exactly have their ideal mindset. I didn’t go throwing myself at them just because Uncle Sam said I should,” he shrugged, still not quite seeing your point. He was so damn stubborn he couldn’t even see just how wonderful he was. 

So you would make him. 

“Maybe not. But when your country said they needed every able bodied man, you enlisted. You could have waited for the draft, but you didn’t.” 

“Because nobody else needed me,” he grunted. “Becca was in school, Steve could take care of himself, and I didn’t have a reason not to go. You would have been my reason.” His voice was firm, ready to stand his ground, but you could still hear his raw emotion behind it. 

“You loved Becca, but you knew you had to go. You loved Steve, and he almost expected you to go. And…” You had to stop yourself before you jumbled your words and said something that was definitely a conversation for another time. “You had people you cared about that you had to leave behind, and I would have been one of them.” 

Bucky cupped your cheek in his right hand, still trying to argue his point. “There’s no way I would have willingly left you for a war I wanted no part in. They would have had to force me.”

“Alright, then let me walk you through a hypothetical,” you started, and he huffed as he waited for your defense. “Let’s say you didn’t enlist. Decided you would wait, that it would all blow over, and you would stay home with me. I’d say ‘okay,’ and let you believe that for a while.”

He gave no sign of rebuttal, so you continued. “I think that eventually you would have gotten tired of waiting for the inevitable. You would have told me you were enlisting, and I would have said I was waiting for you to make up your mind.” With this scenario you at least got a half smile, because he knew it was absolutely something you would do. 

“And if I didn’t?” 

“Well… then the draft papers would have arrived, we would have shrugged and said we knew it was coming. You would’ve packed up for boot camp, and I would have kissed you goodbye,” you finished quietly, trying to keep your tone light and nonchalant when it was the opposite of how you felt. 

Your last sentence caused something to shift, and Bucky’s expression changed ever so slightly, being reminded that you were right; any outcome of this situation still put him in a war. You tried to bring him back from wherever his mind was taking him, tucking your body into his and wrapping your arms around him, 

“I would have written to you damn near every day,” you tried sweetly, and he raised his brow in intrigue. “Would have told you all about what I was doing at home, maybe something your sister said on the phone. Go on and on about things I wanted to do when you came back to me.” 

The words felt weird when they came out of your mouth. 

One look at Bucky told you he agreed, not quite looking at you as he formulated his reply. 

“I wouldn’t have come home.” 

It was just above a whisper, an observation of this alternate reality you had created, but it shattered you just the same as if the words had been thrown in your direction. 

“I would have fallen off the train. Hydra would have found me … I never would have seen you again.” The pain in his voice broke your heart even further. 

“Then it’s good you have me now,” you offered, and those blue eyes snapped back up to look at you. 

He didn’t say anything, he just looked, like he was mapping out your features to commit them to memory. And where once you may have felt shy under his close attention, now it was exactly where you wanted to be. You no longer worried about what flaws he would find, your insecurities turning to look the other way as you were adored by the man who held your heart in his hands. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” he finally whispered. 

Whatever had taken over him, whatever had caused this worry, had passed. It had let him go, and you watched him grow more content as he settled into bed with you, finding comfort in your presence with you wrapped around him. 

“You better,” you said playfully, bringing that handsome smile back to his face. “James Barnes, I swear, I will track you down and drag you back home if I have to. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” He chuckled as he leaned over to place kisses across your cheeks. 

“Good. You fell right into my trap,” he smiled. Before you could keep up the game he locked his lips onto yours, and the playful attitude you had resurrected fell away, nothing but raw emotion in its wake. 

The kiss itself was soft and tender, but he poured his heart into it, speaking more of his feelings for you than words could ever do justice. If you hadn’t been so focused on kissing him back, reciprocating everything he was giving you, it might have made you cry. You felt his heart ache, his conflict, his passion, and his peace. He made sure you knew how he felt about you, how much you meant to him. 

It felt a lot like love. 

That kind of realization usually came with a panic, with a need to quantify it, to seek solid answers. And yet you were perfectly content to be tangled up in your super soldier’s arms, quiet as you followed him to sleep.

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Masterlist | Ch. 11 | Ch. 13

[thetomorrowshow]

poisoned rats in a pot of grain - ch. 11

Masterlist - Previous - Next

i'm stan and i was wrong

ok so i KNOW i said that last chapter would be the penultimate one but alas. here we are at ch 11/12. I SWEAR NEXT ONE WILL BE THE LAST ONE IF NOT YOU CAN HUNT ME FOR SPORT

cw: food, flashbacks, panic attacks, injury

~

Jimmy’s not sure what to think when he’s sitting in Major’s car once again, this time without a mask (and Major took his off as well as soon as they got into the car, pulling his hair up into a beanie to hide the blue, but Jimmy tries not to stare too much). It’s been over a year, he realizes, since they were last in these places.

Like last time, the clothes he wears aren’t his—but at this point, they might as well be. An oversized grey hoodie with the drawstrings removed. Blue sweatpants. Socks with the little grippies. A trash bag of similar clothing is in the backseat.

When he met with Major three days ago, he hadn’t expected this. He’d expected yelling, a jail cell with his name on it, thirty-to-life in prison.

Not a home. And a . . . a friend? Can he call Major a friend?

His head hurts. He’ll take a headache any day over that early, sluggish phase of his anxiety medication, though. The phase had left him feeling disconnected from his body, as if he was merely an observer from above. He didn’t like that. At least he can fully process everything going on right now.

Major turns on the radio and Jimmy practically jumps out of his skin when some country-pop song starts blaring from the speakers. Major turns it down with a muttered apology, then the car jolts back and they’re moving.

Jimmy runs his hands along the seatbelt, grounding himself bit by bit. The car starting to move had felt a little too much like a van pulling out of a garage, but not so similar that Jimmy felt anything more than a deep sense of dread. He breathes in, holds it for a moment, then lets it out. He’s safe. He’s with Major, and Major took care of him that one time so long ago when he’d tried to escape and had been such a bad pet—

In. Hold. Out. He’s safe. His fingers tap along the seatbelt. In his lap is a nice, new journal, and a pack of unopened markers. Josh had given them to him this morning after their last session. If his thoughts get too loud, he can crack open the journal and put some of them out of his head.

Major might think he’s weird. Barely ten minutes out of the mental hospital, and he already can’t handle himself. But Josh would tell him he’s had a very traumatic past year (and life), and that it’s okay to use coping mechanisms in public.

“Still want to stop at McDonald’s?” Major asks over the low music, and Jimmy can’t help that his eyes jump to his face.

Not that Jimmy’s seen very many unmasked heroes, but those he has seen he’s always been slightly disappointed with. Major is entirely different. Major is. . . .

Well.

Without even looking in the side mirror, Jimmy knows he’s turning a bit red. He hasn’t had any viable romantic candidates in a year, who can blame him? Major’s pretty, that’s it. It’s just—it’s a natural reaction to get flustered in the presence of a hot person. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I was gonna stop and get myself a chicken sandwich anyway, so it’s not like it’s out of the way. Anything you’ve been craving?”

He’s not sure how he can repay Major. His apartment and all of his belongings are likely gone, along with his money. But Major’s offering, and it seems safe to accept. . . .

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He wants to tell Major that just a hamburger is fine, that he is hungry, that he’s been craving fast food, but he can’t. He stares determinedly at the dashboard, willing his voice to work. His entire body is run through with tension, waiting . . . waiting for some undefinable other shoe to drop.

He hates it.

Major doesn’t seem bothered by his lack of response, just whistles a little to himself as he pulls into a McDonald’s drivethru. He grimaces at the line. It’s early afternoon, Jimmy realizes with a glance at the clock display. Lunch rush.

Lunch rushes are things. He forgot about that. There’s so many cars and people here. Jimmy shifts uncomfortably, slumps down a bit in his seat. That’s a lot of people seeing his face. He doesn’t like that. He really doesn’t like that. And he’s in the passenger seat, which means that he’s on the outside of the drivethru line and the front windows of a car are never tinted as darkly as the back ones and just anyone could look in and see him—

What can you do to fix this? Josh seems to ask in his head. What’s a simple thing that will help calm you down?

He can cover his face. His shirt? It’ll look a little silly, but not too bad. He glances over at Major, sees him idly looking out the window while tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Jimmy pulls the collar of his hoodie up until it covers his nose, hoping to quell the jitters in his stomach.

It helps tremendously and he lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Major does happen to look over, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ll order me a chicken sandwich, and you a burger, and both of us fries. Sound good?”

That’s . . . oddly considerate, isn’t it? Jimmy nods, looks over to meet Major’s eyes, sending him what he hopes is a sufficient smile with his mouth covered. Major apparently understands and smiles back.

“Right. That’ll come with ketchup, onions, and pickles, I think. Is that all good?”

It sounds fine, so Jimmy nods again, and soon enough there’s a burger and fries in his lap and a cup of water in his hand and he’s not entirely sure where to put it or whether he can eat in Major’s car. Major has pulled back onto the road, his own sandwich unwrapped and held in one hand, so Jimmy assumes it’s okay and sets the water between his knees before unwrapping his burger.

“My name’s Scott, by the way,” Major says between bites, and Jimmy, burger halfway to his mouth, freezes. Does Major expect him to say his own name, now? Because words aren’t exactly his strong suit right now.

As if he can read Jimmy’s mind, Major continues, “And I know that at the hospital, they were calling you TJ for some reason? But I . . . I know your real name, I think. Do you want me to call you your real name?”

He’s not sure why Major—or, Scott—would know his real name, but after taking stock of himself, he realizes that he actually wouldn’t mind being Jimmy. No secret identities, nothing misconstrued about his role. Just Jimmy.

It’s dangerous, he knows. But his name is his and his to give out where he wants to, and he wants to be called his name for once. Before his nerves can get the better of him, he nods.

Scott’s smiling a little when he speaks. “Okay. Hi, Jimmy. It’s nice to properly meet you.”

-

Jimmy makes it about thirty minutes in Major’s house before having a panic attack.

Josh had told him that even with his medication, the sudden change of environments would probably trigger emotional distress. So Jimmy’s sort of expecting something to go down—and down it goes, while he’s sitting in the middle of a bedroom that is so familiar it almost hurts to look at. It’s the same room he’d woken in that one time so long ago. He hadn’t thought he would remember it very well. Now that he’s here, though, he remembers everything about it, down to the color of the carpet, and it’s far too much to cope with.

His clothes are still in the trash bag, his new journal on the bed. There’s a desk in the corner, chair pushed up into it. He’s not sure what to do with that. One side of the room has both a closet and a set of drawers, which is somehow both thoughtful and utterly overwhelming because Jimmy only has three shirts and two pairs of sweatpants, one of which is reserved for sleep.

But what really sends him spiraling is the brand new phone in his hand, already unlocked and set up with Major—labeled Scott—as the only contact.

He doesn’t know what to do. There’s an app on the phone that leads to the internet, and Jimmy hasn’t been connected to this form of the outside world in months.

There’s a new phone in his hand. There’s a charging cable already plugged into the wall.

There’s an outlet in the wall that’s never going to blow out when he plugs his phone in. A phone that won’t spontaneously catch fire. A messaging app that won’t glitch out and send highly inappropriate texts to his contacts.

His tears aren’t of joy, like he’d expected. He’s not happy. He cries because everything is wrong, everything’s changed and it’s so very hard to cope with change after days—after years—of maintaining a routine.

So once Jimmy’s done hyperventilating over all the things that are new, once he’s done bawling about how nothing makes sense, he curls up in the corner of the room against the bedframe and stares at the wall until Major—Scott—calls his name. Then he rises, shoves the phone into his hoodie pocket, and leaves to join the superhero for dinner.

-

Scott really wants Jimmy to leave his room more often, and he’s not even subtle about it.

And sure, maybe lying on the floor staring at the wall for hours at a time isn’t the best thing, especially when he occasionally misses his medication because of just how deep he’s sunken into that mindset. Scott had laid down a ground rule of eating at least one meal a day together, and some days that’s the only time Jimmy can manage to drag himself up to face the world outside his bedroom.

It’s not that he’s not eating—he’s certainly not very good at eating, but whenever he has the strength to to slip out of his room and fix himself some lunch or breakfast, he grabs a couple of non-perishables and stocks them away in the set of drawers. If Major notices, he doesn’t say anything. And when Jimmy’s stuck in the recesses of his own mind, he’s always got a sleeve of crackers or a can of soup to keep his strength up. It’s certainly more than he’d eaten before.

About two weeks in, he has his first therapy session with Nora, who is a very nice woman but frowns when he mentions that staying in his room just feels safer. He knows what’s going to happen while he’s there. He knows that everything there, while new and disconcerting, is more familiar than anywhere else (including this downtown office, so far away, with the stiff sofa and the sequined pillows) and therefore more tolerable.

He doesn’t mention that while he’s in his room, his mind slips into a deadened state where all he can do is stare at the wall and hope that no one will come to hurt him.

He does mention that every time Scott knocks on the door, he immediately shoots to his knees and bows his head, months of conditioning refusing to relinquish its grasp.

Nora suggests two things: one, leave the room more often. Spend time in other parts of the house, engage in leaving the house maybe once a week. Jimmy doesn’t like that suggestion at all—it sounds terrifying and like a recipe for disaster.

Her second suggestion is to leave the door to his bedroom open, and really, why hadn’t Jimmy thought of that?

It makes perfect sense. He can’t be taken by surprise when Major knocks if there’s no need to knock. So even though it’s nerve-wracking and possibly one of the hardest things he’s ever done (anyone could see him, anyone could come in and hurt him), Jimmy starts leaving the door wide open.

And then he’s embarrassed about the way he occupies himself in his room, so he starts holding on to his phone while he stares at the wall, a video pulled up and ready to play in case Scott passes the doorway.

And then he just starts actually watching the video pulled up.

He still doesn’t have a reason to regularly leave the room, but he starts watching a long series of videos purely by accident and ends up getting sucked into the series, taking more and more time out of his staring-at-the-wall time and redistributing it to other things. It’s almost like just engaging with the content of the series gives him energy to do more.

And by some happenstance, Scott mentions that he has a home gym over dinner one night.

Jimmy’s never been able to properly work out. He used to go running, and he picked up more than a few hand-to-hand fight tricks in his time both as a hero and a villain, but an actual gym he’d deemed too dangerous for his spontaneous volatility. And suddenly, with his powers no longer as random as they had once been, he has the freedom to do whatever he wants. Somehow, he hadn’t already put that together.

It’s a little overwhelming, if he’s honest. When he mentions it in passing to Scott (as casually as he can, though he spent days building up to it and he’s inwardly shaking in terror), Scott only looks sad for a moment before offering to start small—use the home gym for as much physical activity as he’s cleared for, try to spend more time out of his room each week. It’s just like what Nora recommended, and while Scott isn't a certified counselor, he is probably the smartest person Jimmy knows.

He’s also the kindest person Jimmy knows—he doesn’t know too many people, to be fair (his social circle consists of his conservator and his therapist and that’s it), but that doesn’t mean that Scott isn’t the first person to seem to genuinely like him in . . . well, forever. Jimmy knows, after several weeks of nothing but patience and encouragement and reassurances that there isn’t another shoe about to drop, that Scott only has his best interests in mind. He trusts him on this.

So he starts working out. He starts joining Scott for movie nights. He starts helping out with chores here and there, and that’s perhaps the most surprising thing—Jimmy finds he likes doing chores. He feels like he’s actually helping out, repaying Scott’s hospitality in little ways—and it reminds him of the time Before, when he and Lizzie would clean the bathroom together or switch out the laundry. It ain’t much, but it’s honest work, and he hasn’t had the opportunity to do anything like it in years.

He has panic attacks, of course. He has flashbacks. One morning he lies in bed, too terrified to move because he’s back on that table and faceless scientists are operating on him and Xornoth has a gloved hand in his hair.

He can feel Scott’s touch on his arm, he can hear what he’s saying, but all he can do is whimper when Xornoth demands, “Eyes on me, little bird.”

“Jimmy, can you look at me?”

He can’t, he really can’t, because Xornoth just told him where to look and he can’t disobey his master’s orders.

Scott’s thumb is making circles on his wrist, and Scott himself is saying things like “Wake up, please” and “It’s just a nightmare, you’re okay, you’re safe”.

Scott’s never lied to him before.

So despite the threat of Xornoth right in front of him, the next time Scott asks Jimmy to look at him, Jimmy opens his eyes and sees Scott and not Xornoth.

And though he can still feel the IV in his arm, the touch of too many rubber gloves and a too-familiar hand carding through his hair, Jimmy knows it’s not real.

Scott holds out his hand, and with a herculean effort, Jimmy takes it.

Scott smiles, and it’s enough to break the flashback’s hold completely.

Jimmy, haltingly, smiles back.

It’s after that flashback that Jimmy knows he can trust Scott. That had been one he wouldn’t have been able to break out of by himself, one that would have swallowed his voice for days. Scott had interrupted it before it had really ascertained its hold on him.

Sure, he’d trusted Scott before. He’s trusted Scott for a long time—ever since he first put his life into Scott’s hands. But this is different. It’s like an entirely different type of trust, because Jimmy now trusts Scott as not just a caretaker, but as . . . as a friend.

He knows for certain now that Scott isn’t taking care of him out of some moral obligation. Scott genuinely cares about him. He’d suspected, of course, but he hadn’t been able to know for sure.

Jimmy finds himself shy for the rest of the day, avoiding eye contact and speaking nary a word. The dynamic has changed, somehow, and he’s pretty sure it’s in a good way.

Even good change, however, is change, and he’s exhausted and anxious about anything that might go wrong. He goes to bed early, finds comfort in the security of laying on the floor and staring at the wall until he drifts off.

-

Jimmy ventures out into the world again for the first time five weeks into his stay with Scott.

It’s not a long trip, nor a dangerous one, but Scott drives him down to a city park and they walk together, Jimmy with a medical-style face mask on and Scott with his bright blue hair tucked into a beanie.

They bring vegetable peelings and scraps to throw at ducks—which is confusing to Jimmy, but Scott had said something about bread being unhealthy for them which is whatever—and on a bridge, over the duck pond, they talk.

Scott starts. Scott talks about college, about his friends, about how he became a superhero—and with that, his misadventures in dating.

“Wait, you dated a villain?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “And you almost joined him?”

“I was a stupid college kid,” Scott defends, though he’s laughing. “I made dumb choices back then.”

“Oh, and you never make any these days.”

“Exactly,” Scott declares pompously. “I’m known for my impeccable decision-making skills.”

Jimmy chucks a potato peel into the water, watches the ducks and turtles fight over it. “Was it a good decision when you let me into your house last year?”

Scott goes silent, looks down. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, fiddling with the railing. “One of my best ones.”

Jimmy blushes. Not quite what he’d been expecting, but he’s not going to say no to a bit of a confidence boost. “Really?” he asks quietly.

Scott doesn’t answer, though. “Was that really where you lived?” he changes the subject. “Where I dropped you off that one time? Because . . . well, after you went missing . . . again . . . I—I kind of went looking for you. And the landlord of the building I dropped you off at didn’t recognize the description I gave.”

“Oh, no. I had you drop me off a few streets away, I think,” Jimmy replies, casting his mind back. A lot of his memories from then—the brief period between captivities—are fairly blurred and unstable. “But yeah. I lived in that neighborhood. Nothing special, I know.”

It hadn’t been anything special. It never had been, not as long as he’d lived on his own.

“I sort of thought you had a decent bit of money,” admits Scott, tossing a scrap to the ducks. “I mean, you were always robbing banks and rich citizens.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Okay, firstly, I have zero credit score. There was no way I could get anywhere nicer than the shadiest of apartments without getting arrested for having suspicious amounts of physical money. Secondly, I lost a lot of that money. And third of all, most of the time stealing from actual people was an accident—I usually just shoplifted from Walmart or whatever.”

It’s quiet between them, then, and Jimmy stares out over the pond, sees turtles lined up on a log a little ways out. He turns to ask Scott if he thinks he can throw far enough to get food to those turtles, only to find Scott staring at him, slackjawed.

“Wh-what is it?” Jimmy asks nervously. Scott blinks several times, straightens.

“I—lost how? And what do you mean, stealing on accident? That was—that was an insane amount of money that you took, what happened to it all?”

Before Jimmy can answer, Scott continues. “Lost, like—like you blew it all at a casino? Or—”

“Gosh, no!” Jimmy bursts out incredulously. “Me? In a casino? Are you joking?”

Scott has the decency to look embarrassed, at least, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I—all right, then, how?”

“I . . . I just lost it.” Jimmy shrugs, flicks a piece of carrot into the water. “Depends, really. Once on the pier my wallet fell out of my pocket and rolled into the ocean, where a fish swallowed it. Once I dropped it all down a drain. One time a roll of bills caught fire in my hands.”

“No way.”

Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, fingers rolling over the scar there. “Yeah. It never worked out for me. I think I mostly just kept doing it because . . . I guess I wanted someone to stop me.”

Scott doesn’t respond for a long while. When he does, his voice is quiet. “I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed.”

“That wasn’t your responsibility. We were enemies, Scott.”

They stand there in silence a minute more, then Scott hands Jimmy what’s left of the bag of scraps, and Jimmy upends it, shaking about half a bag’s worth of vegetable peelings into the water. Ignoring the frenzy below, he and Scott set off for home—which Jimmy is privately grateful for. He didn’t want to say anything, but he’s been growing more and more anxious that even with the medical mask, someone would recognize him.

“So,” Scott says once they’re back on the proper trail, heading in the direction of the parking lot. “Stealing from rich people on accident?”

Jimmy groans, but he’s smiling. He really, really likes this. He likes the way Scott talks to him, like an equal, not like something delicate that could break at any moment. He likes the way he teases. He likes hanging out with him.

“Look, what you have to understand first is that most of the time, I had no clue what I was doing, I was just trying to not hurt anyone. Got that?”

“You disabled the alarms on Joey Graceffa’s house before sneaking in, Jimmy. We have camera footage of it. You’re telling me that was an accident?”

“Entirely.”

-

Scott had asked him, back in his first week here, when he would be feeling up to meeting with Lizzie.

Apparently that day is today, around two months into his stay at Scott’s house. He’s anxious—too anxious to be in his room all morning, instead sitting around in the kitchen or the living room and just generally getting in Scott’s way. The man has become his main source of comfort and is probably the only person he truly trusts in the world—even Nora doesn’t see him at his worst, those moments only for Scott.

Scott had taken the day off without even asking Jimmy if he wanted that, which warms his heart every time he remembers it. Scott curls up on the couch and puts on a commentary video to watch, which Jimmy can’t help but become absorbed in. He doesn’t even know the movie the commentator is reviewing, but it seems terrible and the commentator is witty. It doesn’t put his anxiety to rest, but he manages to become distracted right up until Scott checks his phone and lets him know that Lizzie is on her way.

Then he runs, bolting from the couch to his room in a matter of seconds. He hides behind his bed, trying to breathe. In, hold, out. His hands are shaking. His entire body is shaking. This isn’t good. He doesn’t feel good.

Long minutes pass. His ribs hurt. His ribs burn. One of them is broken, it’s surely broken, it was kicked in and snapped he can feel it—

His scrabbling hands pull up his new blue sweater (he’d tried to dress nice for seeing his sister again) and he prods at his side. Nothing. It’s normal.

Flashback. Okay. He’s fine. Somehow, over his panicked not-breathing, he hears the front door open. That was—okay. Perfect. He loves that for himself. He’d expected maybe twenty minutes of time to calm himself in his room, maybe longer, but apparently his bad luck was still in effect even when it literally couldn’t be.

Another few minutes before there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Jimmy? Can I come in?”

Jimmy can’t quite make his voice work (please not today, not when he actually has to talk), so he shifts around until he can extract his phone from his back pocket and texts Scott an answer in the affirmative.

A moment later, his door creaks open. “Jimmy? Are you—hey, there.”

Jimmy looks up through watery eyes (when did he start crying?) to see Scott kneeling beside him. Scott doesn’t say anything at first, just settles in against the bed and holds out a hand.

Jimmy takes it.

Despite himself, he feels his heart jump.

Scott sits there with him for a few moments, then says quietly, “It’s okay if you can’t meet with her today. Do you want me to tell her to come by a different time?”

And Jimmy feels a wave of gratitude and affection for Scott utterly overwhelm him, because in the past decade, nobody has ever shown this level of kindness toward him. Few people have seen him as anything good or deserving of love, and here Scott is, holding his hand and offering to change everything out of nothing but the kindness of his heart.

Just knowing that Scott is here, and that Scott is Scott, Jimmy feels okay with what he has to do. Not great, but at least capable.

After all, how bad can it be compared to living as a pet for literal months, abused at every turn to the point of barely even knowing his own name? Talking to his long-lost sister about how he killed their loving parents is going to be a walk in the park.

“My life sucks,” Jimmy realizes aloud. He lets out a bark of laughter. “Gosh, it really just has sucked, hasn’t it?”

“I . . . Jimmy, I’m. . . .”

“It’s fine. Really,” Jimmy adds, when Scott raises a brow. “I just can’t think of anything good that’s happened to me in the past decade, up until—” he cuts himself off, heat spreading to his cheeks. “Anyways. Don’t—don’t send Lizzie away. I can talk to her. I just . . . freaked out.”

With Scott’s help he stands, and with Scott’s hand still in his he finds the strength to walk (his bad hip twinges, but he’s not sure if it’s actually acting up or if the pain lingers from the brief flashback) into the nice living room.

Lizzie’s sitting there. Maskless. Street clothes.

Her fingers tap-tap-tap against her knee. Jimmy knows that feeling. That anxiety, but nowhere to run. Holding it in because there’s no other option. Staying quiet and complacent because if your master thinks for even a second that you’re moving without permission, they’ll punish you terribly and brutally.

He’s working on that.

Lizzie looks up when he enters, smiles cautiously.

Jimmy doesn’t think he can be blamed when all of his words of apology die in his throat and all he can think about is how much he missed her.

Something tips her off. He’s not sure what. But she stands, spreads her arms, asks the question quietly.

“Is it all right if I hug you?”

Jimmy throws himself into his sister’s arms and sobs.

-

Jimmy’s been living in Scott’s house for nine weeks and two days (not that he’s counting) when the man hugs him.

It’s a shock, one that sends him reeling and grasping for any reference on how to work with this. He hasn’t been hugged since . . . he hasn’t been hugged . . . in years, probably, because even before everything he’d been a fairly solitary individual. He doesn’t think he’s been hugged on a regular basis since childhood.

If Scott is a hugger, that’s probably going to change relatively shortly.

Scott pulls away quickly, likely put off by the way Jimmy freezes (because of course he can’t respond to things like a normal person, he’s a pet he acts like a pet), and holds him at arm’s length, face cycling through all sorts of feelings.

“Sorry, I really—I should’ve asked, we ought to make a list of—”

Jimmy gently deattaches his arms from Scott’s loose grip, then tries for a hug of his own. It’s awkward, and stiff, and he thinks he put his arms in the wrong place but Scott—

Scott doesn’t mind, just gasps slightly and relaxes into Jimmy’s hold, hums softly. And even though he knows he’s doing it wrong, he can’t help but feel this is unequivocally right.

Uh-oh.

Very suddenly, Jimmy’s life is shifting from a depressing series of torturous events to a romcom. Because out of nowhere, he has a crush on—on Major.

It’s so sudden that his vision seems to tilt, from this way to that, in a dizzying sequence that leaves him feeling rather ill. He barely has to wonder why Scott’s become an object of his attraction. It’s barely been more than two months and he’s already done a million incredible things.

Three days in, he’d gone over Jimmy’s medications with him and asked about allergies and favorite foods and the like, obviously trying to make Jimmy’s time here as pleasant as possible.

Whenever Jimmy expresses that he likes a food, Scott writes it down. There’s now a list in Scott’s list notebook (he makes lists so often that’s all Jimmy can think to refer to it as) with all of Jimmy’s favorite meals.

Jimmy had mentioned offhand that he went to a trampoline park once as a kid and had missed it ever since, and Scott had gone out of his way to look one up and offer to go, eyes bright.

Scott leaves the doors open ever since he noticed Jimmy doing it.

He never complains about Jimmy’s frequent panic attacks.

He’s seen Jimmy at his lowest, and continues to care about him.

Not to mention, his cyan hair is gelled up into the loveliest little curls, his eyes are a prettier blue than the noon sky, the dimple in his left cheek is placed just perfectly to offset his brilliant smile. His arms are strong and chiseled, as Jimmy’s noticed on one or two sleeveless occasions, and the one time he’d seen Scott with just a towel wrapped around his waist his mouth had actually gone dry.

How had he not noticed before now? It’s fairly obvious, in hindsight.

“We should make a list of what physical touch we’re okay with,” Scott tells him as he pulls away, and Jimmy only closes his mouth and nods and tries furiously not to blush.

He can’t have a romantic relationship right now. He’s not even interested in one. He’s trying his best every day to remember that he can even be a human, let alone a boyfriend.

He shouldn’t. But gods above, he wants to try.

[aetheternity]

My wifey, my best friend

Synopsis: Draken knew two things in his life for sure. One, that his best friend was a virgin and two, that he had a thing for his best girl. So he decides to kill two birds with one stone. 

Disclaimer: Fem reader, Unprotected sex, kinda not really a threesome, Oral sex (m recieving), and voyeurism are all present in this. (Minors dni) 

It wasn’t hard to see. Draken’s girl had always been a sight for every man’s eyes. Even before they’d gotten together. She got attention for the way she presented herself, her face, her body and overall just how chill of a person she was. Because while she looked mean (and honestly she could be at times). She was always ready to defend anyone in her squad. 

And very often that meant Mikey. Which Draken had always been thankful for seeing as once he had the help he didn’t know how he’d done it by himself for so long. But he didn’t miss how much quicker his girlfriend got violent when it came to Mikey and vise versa. Didn't miss the prolonged smiling between them or the way they were somehow always touching.

Didn’t matter how much she’d deny it when he’d call her out. Her eye roll adorable despite the clear deception behind her words. The flush of her cheeks, dilated pupils and nervous laughter all giving her away. She wasn’t just into Draken.

She was into Mikey too. She just didn’t seem to see what he saw.  

At first it had been a bit of a sore subject filling his brain. His girl and his friend had the same feelings for each other? Well he knew you wouldn’t cheat on him, you’d always been such a sappy romantic. Crying over love stories you’d read online and forcing him to watch movies that were far too long for just a stupid kiss at the end. 

And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mikey wasn’t a concern. But every time he saw you two together it seemed as though you’d gotten even closer than the last time. Which eventually became the basis for a plan. 

“Hey.” Draken’s braid hung down the back of your couch as he called to you where you stood in the kitchen filling a big bowl with an assortment of chips and popcorn. 

“Hey.” You mimic his deep voice with a giggle coming over and setting the bowl in his lap. 

“Did you have fun with Mikey today?” He asked pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 

“Yup. Me, Mikey, and Emma had a lovely day out today.” You tossed a kernel of popcorn into your mouth with a snicker. 

“Don’t be like that. You know I’m not asking because I'm jealous.” His hair tickled the side of your face as he leaned in closer brushing stray strands of hair back from your cheeks. 

“No no, I know Ken Ken.” 

His breath flushed over your cheeks and nose when you met his eyes. You brushed your fingertips up the side of his head to trace his tattoo. His hands meeting your waist, fingers threading over the small of your back while he kissed you. And you returned the affection with every bit of eagerness that flooded your body. 

“What do you have going on Saturday?” He asked as he pulled away 

Your smile was warm, eyes practically twinkling as you said, “I don’t know whatever you’re doing I guess.” 

“You, me, Mikey, Mario Kart.” He suggests 

“That sounds so fun.” You place a kernel of popcorn on his tongue before turning to flip on the movie pulled up on the DVD player. 

“What is this?” Draken grumbled over the snack in his mouth. His demeanor quickly shifting. 

“I told you I was finally gonna show you The Notebook tonight.” You replied and Draken resisted his urge to groan as you cuddled up to his side fishing a couple chips out of the bowl still in his lap.

~~~~

Saturday morning Draken had arrived at your house at eleven am. He’d set everything up. You thought Mikey was coming at one but Draken had told him eleven knowing that he probably wouldn’t actually get there till twelve.

He’d helped you carry the bulky consoles and teased you all morning just so he could get you here. Right now at 11:45 am, your ass pressed between his bare thighs, socked feet tickling his bare knees, with your panties hanging off one foot as you worked your body up and down his length. The steady claps of your skin meeting creating a beautiful noise that bounced off the drab paint job in your living room. 

His name left your lips with a chorus of pleas. Pleas for his attention to your clit. Pleas for his thrusts to be harder. All greedy and messy while you gripped his shoulders tight for some form of stability. 

“Come on Darling, you can do it.” He replies thickly, the fingers he has sinking into the smooth flesh of your back hurt but the tighter it gets the more he’s enjoying it. “You’re doing so well.” He groans 

He slips a hand under your tee shirt looking for a better angle. His thighs spread and just for a couple seconds he indulges his good girl a little more. Feeds into your anxious cries as you whine about needing your orgasm so bad. Cock brushing against your cervix while you greedily weep for more.  

“Take it then.” He tells you breathily, head tilted back to show off the bob of his adam’s apple. His groans a little deeper as you work him up so close. Cunt squeezing so perfectly around him. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from the accumulation of sweat. “I want you to make yourself cum, Darling.” 

Your fingers twist into his shirt at every slam of his hips. Wandering hands drifting up to cup your breasts through your bra before coming back down to your hips.

You clearly can’t hear it. Too lost in bliss but the subtle click of the door opening and closing isn’t lost on Draken at all. He never stops feeding you his cock though. Not as the taps of footsteps get louder, not as the pounding in his chest gets a little harder and not even when Mikey is standing right in front of the two of you. 

“Name, Ken ch-” 

Mikey freezes and your eyes fly open thrashing around to grab the blanket at the end of the couch to cover your lower half. “Oh my god Mikey!” Mikey stays quiet though his eyes grow dark, lips parted as he stares at the two of you. “Mikey, I thought you weren’t coming till one..” You huff, hand over your forehead and eyelids as you clutch the blanket a little tighter with one hand. 

“Are you saying you’re upset that he’s here early?” Two sets of eyes fall on Draken. He has yet to let go of your hips as you sit in his lap still fully seated on his dick with his best friend standing only a couple feet away. 

“Not this again Ken..” Your words drift away as the palm of his thumb slips beneath the blanket to slide smoothly over your swollen clit. Surprisingly Mikey doesn’t make a move to leave. Feet seemingly stuck in their current position. 

He leans toward your ear though it's still loud enough for Mikey to hear. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t squeeze my cock when Mikey walked in? Are you saying you don't like his eyes on you while I make you a mess?” 

“Wha.. Ke-” A breathy gasp leaves your lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mikey finally finds his voice though it lacks the malice he usual manages to possess. 

"You might as well stay while we finish. She's almost done."

Draken spreads your thighs with one arm pulling one of your ankles up till it’s resting partially against his shoulder and partially against the back of the couch. Slowly but surely the blanket begins to slip off your lower half exposing you slightly to Mikey. With your other leg resting against his; he thrust into you so deep that it creates a noticeable bulge in your stomach for just a split second.

A couple whimpers flutter off your lips and you try to slightly steady yourself as Draken guides his length into you without even the slightest hesitation. The couch shudders with loud creaks as if it's protesting the rough pace Draken has set never taking his eyes off a still shocked Mikey.

"Have you ever thought of fucking her like this?" Draken asks his voice husky and thick over your moans.

You're almost unabashed in the way you look over to Mikey with tears welling against the corners of your eyes. Thigh tensing with every rough pound of Draken's hips.

"K-ken.." You try only to gasp. It makes Mikey's hand fly to his tee shirt trying his best to cover what was so obviously growing right before you and Draken's eyes.

"I want to watch as Mikey fucks you." Draken finally admits. "Would you want that darling? Want Mikey to pound your pretty pussy like I always do?"

"Mm close.." You cry, lips trembling and wet as you throw your head back. Your fingers twist in Draken's shirt, leg twitching awkwardly by his head.

Mikey's lips hang open. His breathing raspy as your whole body tremors. You lean forward in Draken's grasp pushing him even deeper inside you as you cry over and over, "M' cumming K-ken.."

Draken lets his head fall back against the couch as you milk him while you're trapped in your own euphoria. His dick twitching through the intense groans you pull from his chest. When he's finished he places a gentle hand on your stomach.

"Will you take care of Mikey now?" He lifts your body off of him, placing you next to him.

"You want me to fuck your girlfriend? Have you lost it?" Mikey asks, cheeks stained a bright pink.

"Yeah, I'm giving you permission to show, Name a good time while I watch."

Mikey looks over to you. Slowly but surely you extend your hand to him looking at Draken for any bit of hesitation on his part. He hesitants and then his sandals are clicking against the hardwood as Draken motions for him to get between your legs. Mikey's eyes wide with attention as he stares down at you, hands stiff at his sides.

You look to Draken again who's pulled off his shirt by this point; laying back against the couch to rub his softened cock back to life. "Kiss him." Draken nods to Mikey who's basically stone at this point.

"C-can I?" You sit up pressing your hands to his cheeks immediately delighted by the strands of hair delicately brushing against the knuckles of your fingers.

When you lean into him, he presses forward. Hands reaching for the back of the couch for support. His lips are cold. Not at all what you'd thought they'd be. Hesitant, a little shaky and over all cute.

You couldn't help but trace the shape with your tongue. They were smaller than Draken's that part was obvious and more gentle too as though he was scared he could hurt you from just a small kiss. When you pushed him a little further coaxing his lips apart he conceded for you. With a heavy breath he slid one hand down to your face, Adam's apple bobbing where you could see it through your peripherals.

When your tongue slid into his mouth he took a deep breath cautious as you prodded forward with your tongue. And just as soon you were pulling away.

Draken added pressure to his tip with his thumb before sliding his hand back down his shaft in a smooth motion. "Take her shirt off." He instructed

Not only were Mikey's lips cold but his fingertips were also slightly cold as they slipped under your shirt with shaky hands. When you reached for Mikey's shirt Draken tsked,

"Be careful with him. He's still a virgin."

Mikey gritted his teeth in Draken's direction but ultimately said nothing. Weirdly enough that information broke the tension still present in your shoulders.

"Aw Mikey that's ok." He raised his arms as you slipped his dark blue shirt over his elbows, allowing it to join your already discarded clothes in the growing pile.

Though a part of you was slightly curious about whether or not it was by his own choice. With a bit more confidence now you slid your back up the couch a bit pulling Mikey in by the hem of his shorts. Without a second thought you reached behind your back to discard your bra bringing Mikey's free hands up to massage your breasts.

The little gasp he let out was so endearing, eyes clouded with tenderness and lust. Draken snickered at his end of the couch, "How's it feel to touch boobs for the first time?"

"Shut up." Mikey grunted

With your guidance he gingerly twisted and pulled at your taut nipples earning a sweet gasp as a reward. Meanwhile your hands curved up and down his physique, enamored by the touch his abs had just beneath your finger tips. So rough yet smooth and soft as they expanded and contracted for each of his breaths.

Not wanting to waste a second more you gestured to the band of Mikey's shorts, "Is this ok?" And once he nodded you pulled the string loose letting them fall to the ground with his boxers soon following.

Unsurprisingly he was smaller than Draken but he was thicker than you'd imagined. Pretty in both size and color with a much more rounded tip than Draken.

You looked up to Mikey's face. His attention elsewhere as you wrapped a warm hand around the base of his cock. "It's so pretty." You mumbled with a giggle when that gorgeous pink took full color against his cheeks. "I want to put it in my mouth. Can I?"

The bob of Mikey's Adam's apple didn't go unnoticed by you. The way sweat was already starting to appear on his forehead making you smile as he silently moved his hips closer to your mouth.

The hiss that slipped past his lips when you pressed your tongue to his tip and circled it gathering the precum sliding down was precious. And it dawned on you as if you hadn't remembered before that this was Mikey's first blow job.

The famous Mikey was getting his first right here and now. It pushed you further, you left wet open mouthed kisses all over his shaft before letting every sweet inch of him into your mouth. Delicately and steadily over his shaft till you were kissing his pelvic bone.

Never in all the years you had known Mikey had you ever seen him be so cute. His mouth was open for every panting breath he could muster trying and failing to catch his breath. His cheeks an even deeper pink than before and his eyes shut impossibly tight.

He reached out for the back of the sofa as you slowly pulled your mouth back before edging him all the way down your throat again.

"Oh God.." He choked out

Draken's laugh was boisterous the hand that was on his cock now slapped over his mouth as he tried to contain himself. "Darling you can't see from this angle but his face is perfect." He grins

You know it's bad when the only response Mikey gives to this is a loud gasp. His nails digging into the cushions behind you with a heavy grunt.

Draken leaned forward twisting his fingers into your hair gently to guide your head back and forth a little faster. "You look gorgeous, keep going."

Mikey's whimpers fill your ears and spit trickles over your lips. Your tongue swirling over the prominent veins at the base of his cock as you work him up with just your mouth. Curses flying off his lips at an exponentially higher rate.

"Doesn't she have such an amazing mouth?" Draken groaned hand resuming its earlier work.

Mikey could only hum lost in bliss with each thrust of his hips. He managed to angle himself deeper down your throat, reaching out to card strands of your hair back as well as he pushes his cock as far as it could go.

"Shit.. sh-it I think I'm gonna.."

Draken pulled your lips off surprisingly harshly. Fingers still deep in your hair as he guided your thighs open for Mikey. Cum from Draken's earlier orgasm still stained your thighs as Draken pushed Mikey forward by the small of his back.

The angle was kind of weird, especially for a first time but it did help Mikey align better and slowly but surely he was pushing inside. The fill of his cock pressing inside of you left you feeling a bit dazed and your eyes fluttered close. Nails finding purchase on his shoulder blades.

His forehead soon met yours, hitched breaths from his lips flush against your face. "Shit.." He heaved almost breathless.

"Yeah she'll do that to you." Draken grinned. You couldn't tell if it was your heartbeat or his pounding in your ear but you soon regained enough consciousness to wrap your legs around his waist.

"You ok?" He asked, eyelids fluttering open.

"Yeah. Feels good." You reply with a concentrated breath.

Mikey's hand slammed down against the couch cushion as he slowly began to move sucked in by your warm cunt. Every inch of his dick snug inside you. In a way that was so different from the earlier feeling of your mouth.

"Mikey.." You huffed trying not to lose it completely whenever he bottomed out. He wasn't long enough to touch your cervix but every inch of him was so obviously present inside you. Grazing your walls like they were built just for his cock.

"Angle your hips to the right a little." You could hear Draken's voice. All deep and husky like it always got when he was in the mood.

Mikey did as he was told, adjusting his hips till his dick perfectly pressed into your g-spot. You couldn't help it now your head falling back and your thighs shaking when he thrusted right into that spot.

"God.. f-uck.." Mikey grunted

"You're doing so well.." You mewled brushing his blond hair back where it was starting to stick to his face. "It feels.. s'good.."

Your thighs tensed as he started to speed up a tremble setting in his shoulders. You already knew what that meant. Bringing a hand under his chin to pull his lips into yours. The sounds of both Mikey and Draken settling in your ears as you felt the beginnings of the coil tightening in your stomach.

"Mm gonna cum.." Mikey moaned

The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you had you gripping him like a lifeline and he did the same. His arms wrapped around your waist as he emptied himself inside your fluttering walls.

"Oh God.." You sighed

His body continued to tremble, eyes far gone as you held his face to look at him. "You ok?" You giggled, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Draken was right about your pussy." Mikey grins

"Oh my God you told the guys?!" You pick up a pillow next to you chucking it at your boyfriend.

"I only told Mikey that part." Draken replies catching the flying projectile. "Hurry up and finish. This shits getting painful."

"Finish?" You're cut off by Mikey slowly pressing all the way back inside you. "You didn't get to cum." He whispers into your ear. His knee slides onto the couch next to you, guiding your hips against his cock.

Your head banging against the cushions behind you with each of his rough thrusts. Breaths short where they're falling off your lips. You don't miss the way Mikey's eyes clench shut, the way his teeth ungrit trying and failing to keep his noises quiet.

Your once messy and now unruly and missmanaged hair slips from the tie you'd once used to hold it. Strands falling over your face and into your eyes and collecting with the sweat present on every inch of your face.

Draken's groan came from the pits of his throat as he squeezed the tip of his cock in his fist. "I'm gonna cum." He warned, warmth spread through your stomach as you watched the tensing of his body soon followed by his thick cum shooting up only to return to earth. Coating his fists in liquid.

His dark eyes shut as he breathed through his orgasm with a deep sigh.

You cursed under your breath issuing your own word of warning as your thighs clenched around Mikey's waist. "Don't stop.." You pleaded, hands heavy on Mikey's shoulders as you pulled his body closer.

"I won't."

The coil in your stomach soon settled as your release coated Mikey's pelvic region slicking his cock as you cried out. A sense of familiarity soon falling over you as you watched the same build of intensity forming in Mikey.

The roll of Mikey's eyes utterly intoxicating as his hips stuttered forward with a breathy moan for the first bit of his orgasm. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his own hair a complete mess as he released deep inside of you completely losing control of his hips.

"Fuck Mikey.."

Mikey finally pulled out leaving his cum to ooze out of your used pussy as Draken stood from the end of the couch, heading for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" You asked

"We need chips right? For Mario kart?" Draken called

"Yay we're still playing!" Mikey bounces like he's not still completely naked and didn't just finish fucking you.

"Of course we're still playing. That was the whole point of today." Draken replies

"You don't want to shower first?" You gesture to his cum covered chest and thighs.

"Like all together?" Mikey asks

"Nevermind let's just play."

[peninkwrites]

Wake Up. Ch 12 of ?

Punz feels betrayed. Tommy doesn't.

(CW: abuse and suicidal thoughts)

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 11

Ch 13

~

Punz resists the urge to bombard Wilbur with questions.  That’s not how he would act normally, and since Wilbur isn’t at his throat, there clearly isn’t much suspicion to worry about there.  And poor Connor– He hadn’t really seen anything.  He’d been dead before he hit the ground, he’d never had any indication of Punz working with Dream and it seems he’s fallen for Punz’s little sob story about just trying to get Tommy somewhere safe with ease.  This is the part where he bows out, if he wants information, he has a better place to get it, and if he’s honest, he has no fucking clue what Dream is playing at sending Wilbur back out.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” Punz stands, a hand going to his side as his ribs protest at the movement just as his leg threatens to give out.  Fuck, that hurt.  “Phil, can I have another health pot for the road?”

“Yeah, yeah sure, mate, do you want someone to walk you?  I can look for… I dunno, an old sword for you to use as a walking stick or something?” Phil passes him the potion.

“What happened?” Wilbur has been staring at the floor like a man at the foot of a deathbed, waiting only for bad news, but now he looks up, noting Punz’s injuries.

“Dream.  What else?” Punz says flatly.  “Look, I’m tired, Connor can fill you in on the rest.”

“I’m tired too!  I’m the one who died today,” Connor says.

“Fuck, I’m sorry about that too, man.  I could’ve… acted faster, I dunno,” Punz sighs.

“Hey, quit beating yourself up.  We were all a little thrown off by that, huh?  I’m just glad you like, tried to stay with Tommy or whatever.  I dunno,” Connor shrugs.

“You did?” Wilbur stares between the both of them.  “I’m sorry, I know– I know you’re tired, but please.”  He stares at him, something far too vulnerable and desperate behind his eyes.  He doesn’t even offer a question, he just looks at Punz, thinks of Tommy, and says please.

It unnerves Punz a bit.  “I was the one watching him.  When–” Punz stops with an appropriately heavy sigh.  “When Dream showed up.  Killed Connor.  Shot me in the leg before I could take a step and kept me down with this,” he gestures bitterly to the bandages wrapped around his torso.

“And what did you do?”  Wilbur isn’t pitying.  Not like the others.  He’s still desperate, but now he’s sharp too.

Punz stares at him, irritated.  “Besides… bleeding out?”  He says coldly.

“No, before then.  Okay, he shot you in the leg.  What the fuck were you doing when he had to switch over to his sword?” Wilbur sounds like he’s trying his best to cut Punz open again with his words, and for a moment of genuine fear, only a moment, Punz thinks maybe he does know something.  Some indication of Punz’s loyalties that had slipped through the cracks, despite Punz’s avid efforts to avoid Wilbur’s cell on his visits to Dream’s little hideaway.  But that look in Wilbur’s eyes… it’s not suspicion.  He’s wholeheartedly and furiously accusing Tommy’s protector of not doing enough, no treachery needed.

“Wilbur,” Phil is as scolding as he can manage when he’s treating his undead son like glass.

“No, it’s fine,” Punz keeps his voice steady, calm, but he cuts out that self pitying bullshit, that dramatic guilt of oh if only I could have done more, that might work on Connor, even on Phil, but not Wilbur.  He doesn’t know the man well, but he knows something of him from his louder acts.  Wilbur knows theatrics are bullshit because that’s all he was ever good at.  Punz is good at his job too.  “I’ll go through this step by step for you, Wilbur.  And I mean step by step.  Just to get you caught up on the amount of wasted efforts have gone into trying to keep Tommy safe, okay?” Punz puts out a hand as if to tell Wilbur to hold that thought, because he’s not stopping.  “See, Sapnap has been planning patrols to look for Dream constantly, and somehow I have gotten myself roped into it.  We run into Ponk and Sam– You know, Sam hasn’t left Ponk’s side since the rescue and he was very much right to, because he’s made the mistake of working for Dream in the past and got a target put on his back for failing him, so Dream shoots Ponk.  Dream shows up right there,” Punz points out the front windows toward the aquarium tunnel.  “And Tommy is also nearby, of course.  With Tubbo, obviously, because Tubbo has been watching Tommy like a hawk since he got back.  Along with the night shifts we’ve all been taking to keep Tommy safe.  But Tubbo– honestly reasonably, needs to go after Dream.  Kill him, kill the problem, right?  And Sapnap has already taken off, and Sam is freaking out because Ponk is fucking shot, so I offer to look after Tommy.  Easy, right?  Dream went the other way, and we are surrounded by other people.  Sure, Sam is occupied but he’s a good fighter.  Ranboo, I don’t know, but the kid seems tough enough, and Phil is right there too.  I almost feel ornamental, he’s so safe.”

Punz laughs, sarcasm with a hint of viciousness.  “And you know what our dear Tommy does?  Tommy, who every bleeding heart on the server has been slaving away to protect?  This kid runs away.  He bolts, and maybe I should’ve known right then the job was more trouble than it’s worth.  And Sam is currently busy getting covered in Ponk’s blood, but that sweetheart looks like he wants to follow him, but obviously he should stay with Ponk, so I say I’ll go after him.  Bring him back– It should be easy, right?  So I head toward Tommy’s house.  And I’m right.  He’s there, freaking out.  And I make my first mistake.  Tommy doesn’t want to go back, he wants me to leave him alone, etcetera etcetera, typical poor terrified Tommy shit.  And I humor him.  I don’t leave, obviously, but I don’t take Tommy back the way we’d come, I think, oh, the smart thing to do is to work our way around.  Tommy didn’t want to go back to Phil’s, so I was thinking maybe we’d hide out by the docks or Niki’s old place or something, but first I try to get us away from the main path and here comes Connor, who it is not my job to protect.  He’s a liability– no offense–”

“None taken?”

“–so I basically tell him to fuck off.  He doesn’t.  I keep moving.  And we find ourselves outside of the prison.  And Connor gets in my way.  So we are not moving.  And then Dream arrives.  Dream who is supposed to be on the other side of the fucking server getting beaten up by Sapnap and Tubbo.  But no.  First he comes around the corner, out by the prison, after I have spent the last five minutes bickering with Connor over letting me take Tommy somewhere.  So instead of looking out for Dream, my whole job, I am looking at him.  That’s my next mistake, right?  That mistake is what got Connor an axe to the neck.  Dream leaves his axe and has his crossbow out.  He is out of range of me.  I have my sword and I get to take one step forward.  Dream shoots me in the leg, it starts to give out, and I make another mistake.  Okay?  I already had my sword out, I could’ve swung at him,” Punz smiles, sharp and bitter, this time the facade has nothing mournful, only a cold assessment of his own work.  “And I grabbed Tommy.  Okay?  I had a split second, and in years of cold hard training to be one of the best goddamn mercenaries on this server instead of swinging my sword, protecting my bad side, all the practical things I have done my whole life, I got stupid.  I got emotional and my first instinct was to grab Tommy and try to pull him back.”  Punz sees it change.  The look in Wilbur’s eyes– not pitying or accommodating in any way, but a change nonetheless.

Punz finishes strong.  “So yeah.  Dream got to take a cheap shot between my ribs.  And for that, Wilbur, I am sorry.  I really am.  So if you have to know, those were my mistakes.  And that is why I had to lay there on the fucking ground while Tommy walked out of there with Dream.  And yeah, I failed, and this part won’t make you feel better, Wilbur, but even then, at least I fought harder than Tommy did.  Tommy has been protected for weeks and it’s on my watch he decides to make it harder every step of the way.  Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Wilbur falls for it.  Hook, line, and sinker.  It’s something unkind and cruel and maybe a bit too close to home for the self loathing former president, that Wilbur will believe.

Wilbur shakes his head with the morbid, fanatical smile of a grieving man.  His voice tremors.  “You’re right.  Doesn’t– It doesn’t make me feel better.”  He laughs, something more like a sob.  “You should’ve fought harder.”

“Yeah.  Well, not like I can do anything for him now.  So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home and rest without the company of a miserable asshole looking for a target– sorry, a target other than himself.  Your projection could use some subtlety, Wilbur.  Best of luck to you all.”  With that last snide comment, again, just cruel enough to be trusted– and maybe Punz gets a little satisfaction from it as well– he leaves them to it.

Wilbur watches Punz leave with full acceptance.  He knows his scolding Punz for not fighting hard enough is inane considering it’s not like he did any better.

“Wil?  Can I have a look at your head?” Phil says gently.

“What?  Oh, yeah right,” Wilbur grudgingly leans forward.  “Ow, fuck–”

“Sorry, just hold still, mate,” Phil winces sympathetically.  “You wanna take off your coat?  I’m gonna try and get some of the blood out of your hair.”

“Doesn’t matter I’ve been damp for weeks.”

Connor laughs, reminding Wilbur of his presence.

“You alright?”

“Huh?  Me?” Connor seems surprised.

“Yeah, you–” Wilbur stops with a gasp as cool water pours down his head.

“Sorry, sorry you said it didn’t matter!” Phil fusses over him.  “Don’t think you’ll need stitches, that’s something.”

“Lucky me,” Wilbur sighs.  “And yeah, Connor, you fucking died today.  So, you alright?”

“Yeah!  Yeah, it was pretty quick.  So,” Connor shrugs it off, a hand going to the raised scar across his neck.  “I… I guess I just feel bad about Tommy.  Like, last time I wait too long to say stuff, and that ended up being bad for him.  And this time I thought ‘you know what.  If he seems all freaked out, this time I’ll stay with him.  Make sure he’s okay,’ and I tried to do that, and I think I ended up making it worse.  Like.  Tommy looked like he was gonna puke or something, and Punz was basically forcing him to keep moving, so I got all bitchy and tried to cut him off.  I dunno what I was thinking.  Even if Punz was being pushy it was because Tommy seemed like, shell shocked or something.  He wasn’t like, bullying Tommy.”  Connor sighs.  “Stupid of me.  So.  I’m sorry too.”

“What do you mean last time?” Wilbur turns reproachful as Connor’s words catch up to him.

“Oh– Yeah, so.  Forever ago I saw Dream revive Tommy.  When the whole server thought he was dead?  That time?  And I was like, holy shit!  Tommy’s not dead!  Why’s he sneaking around, right?  And like, it was probably like 2 am or something I was barely fucking awake.  He’s like, talking to Dream about something, Dream helps him up, and they start leaving.  And I just sorta went ‘okay looks like Tommy just faked his death good for him.’  And didn’t tell anyone, because like.  Clearly Tommy didn’t want anyone to find out.  He walked out of there with Dream when he could’ve gone to L’Manberg or whatever.  And now I know he’d been… I guess brainwashed?  I don’t know it’s not all really clear to me, but when I thought I was just letting a guy fake his death I was actually like, helping this other guy get away with kidnapping a kid.  So,” Connor nods solemnly.  “I fucked up.  And I think about it a lot.  And then this time I tried to help him and it didn’t do shit.  So.”

Wilbur looks for the coldness that had come to him when Punz had said his piece and finds he doesn’t have any anger left.  Not for this poor bastard who had never had a job to do or someone to protect.  Maybe later he’ll think about it more, think about what Connor getting his head out of his ass sooner could’ve prevented, but right now the only person worthy of scorn is himself.  He’d known what his task had been and had had the opportunity, and when it came down to it, he just wasn’t strong enough.  The only reason he hasn’t left to find a ledge to throw himself off of is Phil’s incessant worrying over his shoulder.  He misses when it had just been Tommy he had to try to protect.  He’s back among the living and all that is is a dozen more people for him to fail.

“I think I’m gonna go sit outside.  I haven’t… it’s been a long time since I’ve been outside,” Wilbur stands unsteadily.

“Yeah, sure.  Want me to come with you?” Phil hovers, looking like he wants to help Wilbur stand.

“No.  I just– I just need some time,” Wilbur presses a hand to his eyes as the room still tilts.  He focuses on keeping steady and makes it out the door.  He stops at the edge of one of the platforms, in this strange, new world they’d pieced together on top of the crater he had left them with.  Wilbur had brought them all that pain, all that destruction, and now he has the luxury of sitting on top of his reckoning, alive and well.  There’s water filling the crater.  Tiny, darkly colored fish flit through the shadows underneath.  Wilbur can smell the water.  He feels wind tugging gently at his hair and the shadows of clouds shift and change to occasional sunbeams.  Wilbur tucks his knees into his chest, grabbing fistfulls of his hair, eyes shut tight.  He doesn’t know what right has to cry when he’s the one that made it out.

~

Punz’s story had been a careful web of half-truths.  The irritation was true.  Punz had done his job perfectly and Dream rewards him by freeing one of their lab rats.  Dream had been the one insisting they needed both, they just had to get Tommy to test the revive book on two subjects and of course now that he has Tommy he changes his mind.  Punz does return to his home, but not to rest.

You whisper to Dream: stasis?

Dream doesn’t reply, but in a moment Punz feels that familiar jolt in his stomach of falling through space before he hits the trap door, pain shuddering through his wounded leg.

“Everything good back on the Mainlands?” Dream helps him steady, a hand on his arm.  Punz was supposed to stay there and keep an eye on things.  Dream assumes something went wrong for him to come back so soon.  To be fair, something had gone wrong.

“Yeah,” Punz brushes Dream off irritatedly.  “Except, it was weird, everything was going to plan, the hunters I saved your ass from came back, but they weren’t empty handed, huh?  No, Wilbur fucking Soot comes walking back into town– And I thought to myself– hey, that’s weird!  He’s supposed to be in a fucking cell, a hundred blocks under water, where he can’t tell anyone fucking anything!”  Injured or not, Punz shoves Dream back into the wall, his shouts echoing through the dome.

There’s a splash in the water on the other side of the room.  Punz turns around sharply, about to go for his sword, but instead he sees Tommy, standing just inside the doorway, staring at him, looking almost impressed.

“What’s… what the hell is he doing out?!” Punz isn’t shouting anymore, still sharp, still irritated, but unnerved as well.  He’d easily avoided Wilbur who had been confined to a cell at all times, but this?   Considering his participation in Tommy’s abduction, he can’t help but feel like Tommy isn’t supposed to be here.  Not where Punz has to see him at least.

“It’s not like he can go anywhere,” Dream scoffs.

“So you’re just letting him wander around the base?!” Punz asks incredulously.

“What’s your fucking problem, then?!” It’s Tommy who replies because of fucking course it is.

“Does he know where his room is?” Punz keeps talking to Dream, staring at that mask instead of the kid behind him.

“Yeah.  I already gave him the grand tour,” Dream has the audacity to sound amused.

“Go there, then, Tommy,” Punz turns back, pointing in the other direction of the hall.

Tommy doesn’t move.  He glances between Punz and Dream, waiting.

“Yeah, go,” Dream waves him off.

Tommy gives Punz an almost taunting look, eyebrows raised, a poorly buried smirk.  Waiting for Dream’s orders is as close to telling Punz he isn’t the boss of him as he can get.

“And hey, when Punz asks you to do something, you do it,” Dream adds.

Tommy scowls.  Still, he’s quick to make his exit while he has the chance. 

“I don’t need you to defend me from a teenager,” Punz snaps.

“What, were you gonna go over there and actually hit him to make him listen to you?  Because that’s what you’d have to do,” Dream says it like a challenge, a test of Punz’s willpower.

Punz buries the urge to snap back: I could have done that if you’d given me the chance, but the truth of it was he hadn’t made any move towards Tommy, he’d just stood there and let Tommy look smug.  “…You still screwed me over– don’t change the subject.”

Dream scoffs, brushing him off.  “Okay, I can see you’re mad–”

“Mad?  Oh, do I seem mad to you, Dream?!  What gave you that idea–  Maybe it’s because you just decided to put me at risk– and for what?!” Punz steps forward, jabbing an accusing finger against Dream’s chest.  “You were the one who said we needed them both!  That was your fucking excuse for me helping you play your little mind games, sneaking around all of Tommy’s little guards, and the moment you get your fucking way you let Wilbur go?!”  Punz can’t help it, he shoves Dream back again.  He knows Dream won’t be afraid to hit back, Punz injured or not, but he’s so fucking tired of Dream’s shit.  “Do you forget I am the one who had to run in and save your ass when your starving unarmed prisoner managed to get you on the ground?!  Maybe I’m fucking mad Dream because you gave me no warning about this little part of your plan and we had no fucking insurance that he didn’t see me before he blacked out, how about that, Dream?!”

“...And did he see you?  Did he say anything?”  Is all Dream says, without any anger, maybe mild interest.

It’s fucking infuriating.  “No!  No, as far as I can tell, he didn’t see shit.  Got on my case about losing Tommy, but no.  If he knows, he’s stronger than I thought.  I don’t think he would’ve been able to restrain himself if he thought I’d helped take him.  You know what they’re like,” Punz finally steps back.

“Well, then no harm no foul, right?” Dream shrugs.

“Fuck you, man.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Dream saunters over.  “Things changed, opportunities presented themselves.”

“Opportunities?  What do you mean opportunities presented themselves?”

“I got rid of the lodestone, sent those idiots on a wild goose chase, and now Wilbur is out there to keep them occupied with all of his bullshit, right?”

“Explain.  Explain better.”

Dream sighs, leaning against the glass.  “Okay, fine.  I gave Wilbur the Lodestone.  Tubbo found him instead.”

“So?  You could’ve just dumped it somewhere.  Or broken it.  Attached it to a mob or something send them chasing after that.”

“Tell me, Punz.  Right now, according to all those poor desperate people back in L’Manberg, what is their best connection to find Tommy?”

Punz eyes him warily.  “...Wilbur?”

“Yes, Wilbur.  And tell me, Punz, what would you think if your enemy took someone and let another prisoner go?”

“...There was a trade.”

“Right again!  And between Wilbur and Tommy, who does L’Manberg like more?”

“Tommy.”

“And if instead you got the annoying, manipulative guy who blew up your nation, who appears out of the woods, clearly misleading you by design, would you trust that person?”

“No.”

“See, Punz?  Now, when you tell me what those little pawns are up to, if they start noticing a certain trend, who is the last person who had a connection with the evil monster Dream that’s been terrorizing them?”

“Wilbur,” Punz’s anger has faded to irritation.

“Exactly.  Not you, but Wilbur.  Sure, they might not blame him for it, probably assume it’s to protect poor little Tommy, but they won’t go pointing fingers at you.  Not for a while, at least.  In the list of targets they might wager is working with me, I mean, Sapnap would make the list, probably.  Then maybe Sam.  I mean, he built me the prison, and I shot Ponk, not him.”

“Connor.  I’ve been trying to push the idea that it might be Connor.”

“Wait, really?”  Dream sounds delighted.

“Yeah.  He saw you revive Tommy and didn’t say anything, and he was there when you took him last time.”

Dream laughs, sharp and wheezing.  “Oh my god!  That’s perfect.  See if you can keep doing that.  Connor getting arrested or something from getting accused of working with me.  That would be so funny.”

“Okay– Let’s say I believe you let Wilbur go as some clever plan to keep my cover– you were the one saying we needed both of them,” Punz is still reproachful.  “I have spent weeks sneaking around helping you scare that kid all so he wouldn’t put up a fight.  It’s fucking insane.  You could’ve grabbed him at the very start when I said I spotted you by L’Manberg!  And you– what, you talked to him?  Tommy can’t put up a fight.  And if not him– you could’ve taken literally anyone on the server, like, you could’ve taken someone who wouldn’t have been missed.  Like… I mean, like Connor for instance!”

“All of my research so far has been using Tommy.  It’s important to be consistent.”

Punz eyes him doubtfully.  “...Right.”

“And yeah, letting Wilbur go was a bit of a spur of the moment decision, but it’s not permanent.  You think that idiot is going to stay out there knowing I have Tommy here?  These people– It’s too easy.  Their attachments make them weak.  Wilbur, with all of his self loathing bullshit, I’d bet he’ll kill himself by the end of the week and tell Tommy he’s coming to help him.”

Punz mulls this over, pacing the dome, the water splashes annoyingly.  “Okay, fine.  I still think you’re a dick, but fine.  I–”  He stops, irritation returning sharply at the outline of a figure trying to make himself small and hidden in the shadows of the corridor.  There’s nowhere really for him to hide, but Punz has to give Tommy some credit.  He’d managed to go unnoticed in the darkness between sea lanterns this long.

Dream follows his gaze.  He moves carefully along the wall, keeping out of sight of the doorway.  Punz is surprised Tommy can’t hear him coming, but the sound of the water must echo, it’s hard to follow.  Tommy yelps as Dream drags him back out by the hair.

“Having fun there, Tommy?” Dream forces Tommy to look at him.  “I let you have full run of the base and this is how you repay me?!”  He tugs on Tommy’s hair until he cries out to emphasize his point.

“L-Let me go– I’ll go I–”

“Arguing, now?  Really?  What the hell has gotten into you?  Have you really forgotten everything I’ve taught you?” Dream turns scolding.  Then he turns to Punz, throwing Tommy at his feet.  “Will you do the honors?  You’re the one that told him to leave.  He disobeyed you.”

Tommy scrambles back, putting some distance between them but the only other option is getting in reach of Dream so he stops.  He looks up at Punz, not quite scared, but wary.  This is a test.  From both Dream and Tommy.  Punz doesn’t see why it should matter who does it.  Tommy hits the ground with a split and bloody lip either way.

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time ch.1

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.

Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.

Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.

Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.

Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.

Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.

Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.

Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.

Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.

Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.

He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

Toommy

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

do u wanna play Terraria

His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.

A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.

"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.

For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”

Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”

The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”

Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”

The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”

Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”

“Then you know Shakespeare?”

Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”

His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”

He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”

Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. “And my names Tommy, dickhead.”

The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”

Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.

Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”

Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.

Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—

Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.

No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.

“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”

Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”

The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”

“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.

“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”

“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.

“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.

Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”

Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”

Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”

“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”

Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”

Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”

Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”

“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”

“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”

“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.

“Because you were going to jump?”

“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“

“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”

Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”

“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.

“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”

Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”

“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.

Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.

Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”

“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”

They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.

JACK OF ALL TRADES

That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.

“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.

“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“How?”

Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”

Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.

He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.

Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.

“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.

“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”

Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.

Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.

He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”

“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.

Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.

“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.

“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”

“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.

“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”

“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”

“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.

Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.

Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.

Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.

“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.

“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“

“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.

“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”

Tommy considered it. “Same time?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.

They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.

This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.

“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”

“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.

“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”

“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.

“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”

“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”

Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.

Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.

“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”

Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.

“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.

Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”

“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.

Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.

His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—

Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.

Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.

Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!

He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.

He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.

He really should've put money on it, though.

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 10)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Wait For Me

Next Chapter: Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill Event

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

We are halfway through the story~ I never planned for this to be over 40k😅 but I've added some integral scenes in the later chapters. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 10: Invisible Ties

You couldn't sleep at all the few nights that followed. Mai and the others noticed your fatigue. They worriedly asked about you and let you cuddle into them and nap when you had some free time.

Miwa even let's you stay with her in her room at times, and it does help for a bit, but you don't want to bother them. And something was telling you it wasn't just regular fatigue.

You sometimes zone out in class and could barely stay awake during physical training. Eventually, you consulted Utahime about your possible insomnia.

You had a feeling it was tied to your feeling of unrest over your soulmate bond. It didn't help that your soulmark was stinging and all your heart wanted was to be with Noritoshi. There was a strong sense of unease over this bond.

You pulled down your sleeve to reveal the mark on your wrist flashing madly like a broken stoplight. You groaned and shoved your face into your pillow.

You've taken to wrapping a black velvet ribbon on it during the day, to not attract attention. If this light flashing keeps up, you might have to use a thicker fabric.

◇◇◇

Noritoshi was feeling the same uneasiness you did. He tried to shake it off and act as natural as he could around you, but even he was still shook at how quickly your negative emotions transmitted over the bond.

He was in his room and it was past 11. He tried to get to sleep, but found that he couldn’t so he tried studying. He was actually distracted for once, looking over his desk at the soulmate record and diaries of Hotaru and found himself reading them.

◇◇◇

On the other hand, you were restless in your room.

"I shouldn't bother Noritoshi senpai but..." You glanced over at your clock. 12:06am. Just past midnight, he was surely asleep. And yet you found yourself grabbing your pillow and blankets, and quietly making your way to his dorm room.

It was as if your body was moving under the command of your red strings. Pulling you back to the man who was responsible for messing you up like this.

You stood outside for a good 5 minutes, contemplating on whether or not you should knock. You haven't had a proper sleep in nights and it is starting to show in your studies.

Finally, you decided to quietly knock a few times. A beat passed and there was no response. You were about to walk away when the door opened. He was awake to your surprise.

He was in his dark navy Kimono, hair wrappings undone. Some strands of his hair fell over his eyes. At that moment, you thought to yourself that he was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Can I help you y/n?” He was staring at your pillows and blankets.

Ah right. All of the sudden you feel so small and dumb for coming all the way here for no good reason. “Ah, Noritoshi senpai. Um, good evening.” You scrambled for words.

“I, uhm, I’m sorry I can’t really sleep- Ah what I mean to say is that I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I was wondering if I-” a cold gust of air blew past you and you shivered.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened at this and he pulled you into his room and closed the door behind you. He was so close, your face turned bright red. Way too close for comfort.

He seemed to get the hint and took a step back from you. “So you want to stay the night with me, is that what you’re getting at?”

You stayed still before slowly nodding, then looked up to see his reaction. His face was like stone, nothing was giving anything away. He didn’t look so happy to see you in your opinion.

“I’m sorry to disturb you…. I was gonna…. ask… if I ….. could … sleep …. on … your floor…, “ your voice was getting smaller and softer with each word, heart clenching painfully. Your fists tightly scrunched up in your blankets.

Suddenly he leaned down close to bring his face to yours and raised his hand. You flinched and closed your eyes tightly, expecting a “no.”

He cupped your cheeks gently and touched the bags of your eyes with his fingers. “You’ve been looking so exhausted lately, I was actually going to bring it up to you, but I wasn’t able to catch you earlier today. Just share the bed with me.”

You blinked. What. Did you hear that right?

You looked at him with wide eyes. His face was red too. “Is this okay with you? I really don’t want to overstep my boundaries… Last time….” you opened your mouth then realized you didn’t come here to dump all the shit that’s troubling your mind onto Noritoshi.

‘I’m sure he also has it hard on his end’. “Ah, never mind. Thank you so much senpai.” you smiled up at him.

Noritoshi’s chest hurts to see you fake a smile towards him. Time and time again, he’s loved watching how expressive and honest you are with your emotions.

He’s seen your genuine smiles more often than not. Seeing you like this just felt wrong.

“Tell me.” He said.

“Ah- it’s really nothing, I know you’ve been dealing with so much on your end, you’re also stressed, I’m just thankful that you’re letting me stay here in your room-” you were rambling without realizing it.

“Tell me. Don’t hold back. I can feel your unease through the soulmate bond.” he said sternly.

Noritoshi was starting to understand that you both had to work through the negative emotions each one feels together. That’s the reason for the soulmate bond. Ignoring it would be like dragging yourselves through mud.

You got the gist of his line of thought, having the same realization at the same time. You spoke cautiously so as not to offend him, "This has been bothering me. Last time in your room, it just felt like you were treating me as an outsider and it hurt. Like I thought that we were more than that, but maybe it's just me. Also, you once said I didn't know who you are. So I just…. Wanted to understand you better..."

Noritoshi’s eyes softened, and he just couldn’t resist you anymore. He pulled you towards his bed and set down your blankets and pillows. Then turned back to you, “Can I hug you?”

“Of course.” It was fun to see him blush and awkwardly hold his arms out towards you. You stepped into his space, grabbed one arm to throw around your shoulder, and the other around your waist. As he didn’t seem to know where to hold you.

"I do admit I have my secrets and I’m not ready to tell you about them yet. For that I apologize, you have to wait a bit longer until I’m more comfortable with you. But you're not an outsider to me my dear. You could never be. I also believe that we are more than friends, like I said before. I need you to trust me a little more. And I’ll do the same with you, I’ll trust you a bit more. I want it all and this soulbond, as long as it's you."

Your eyes widened and sparkled upon hearing his words. Your bond finally settled into something of a quiet hum underneath your veins. You hugged him tighter, which he smiled at.

"I'm sorry, I should have explained to you how I felt senpai." You whispered sadly. But he just hushed you and held your hand. "It's okay, next time we can do better. Let’s start anew shall we?"

You spoke out a soft yes in response. It was honestly still a disjointed relationship. Like you’re both just two parts of a whole trying to find their way to each other.

"Let's face the truth. This is really an unconventional relationship. We can't really abide by the normal fall in love then confess situation can we?" You said.

"Why can't we?" Noritoshi asked, looking a bit surprised. "It's unconventional and gives us a fair share of problems, that's true. But we can still fall in love and confess the normal way. With time." He added.

You just hummed and nodded.

You pulled back from him, “Anywayss, Why are you still awake at this hour anyways senpai? It's bedtime.”

“Reading the diary of a man who was my past life.” Your eyes widened at that. “Let’s read a bit of it together, then we can sleep?” You nodded.

He set up the pillows so both of you could lean side by side in bed while reading the diary entries. The story was not a nice one. Hotaru eloping with his lover, on the run from their families, curses and curse users. Constantly taking odd jobs to get money, and hiding in old inns. It sounded so exhausting.

You found yourself looking over at Noritoshi every now and then, wanting to lean closer, your eyelids getting heavier.

He turned to you then looked at the clock. 12:47am.

No classes tomorrow, since it's the weekend but you looked terribly sleepy. So he closed the book, set it aside. Closed the lights before climbing in beside you.

You stretched out like a cat before tucking yourself under the sheets. "Sleep time??"

He smiled at you. "Yeah." He laid down beside you, and you were both lying on your sides, facing each other.

"Good night darling." He whispered. Your face heated up but you thanked the darkness that he couldn't see your blush at the pet name.

"Good night Nori- ah senpai." You whispered back.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Drop the Senpai, just call me Noritoshi."

"Okay…. Noritoshi."

"Mmmm."

2 minutes passed, but you're both still staring at each other.

"Noritoshi."

"What is it?"

"Nothing much… Just saying your name feels nice. Can we hold hands while we sleep?"

He chuckled and reached to clasp both your hands in his. Your mark has long stopped flashing wildly. It's now a warm dark red glow.

You smiled at your marks.

"Can I kiss you? Properly?" He asked hesitantly.

Oh. You would like that very much. Your heart is literally in your throat, beating so furiously Noritoshi could probably feel it.

You could feel some of his stronger emotions through the bond. He really wants to hold you in his arms, you realized. You never felt so bare with another person before. He could probably feel your emotions too, so no point in hiding it.

As you nodded, he slowly crawled over you, caging you in with his arms. Slow, he was too slow.

You grabbed the front of his Kimono and pulled his lips down to yours. His eyes widened, but soon closed shut as he finally finally got to taste you. He was careful not to crush you as he pressed you into the sheets for a deeper kiss.

You both found yourselves running your hands over the other's body. His tongue entered your mouth and played with yours. Dangerous. Your hands tugging at his hair. It was getting dangerous.

Noritoshi quickly pulled back, chest heaving against yours, and tucked you under his chin. His heartbeat was beating furiously before quickly calming down.

"Darling I'm-" how could he tell you that he wants you right now. This wasn’t good, he had to hold himself back. He kissed you on the forehead.

"Shhhh, I'm right here." he whispered sweet nothings into your ears as you whined out at the loss of his lips on yours. "Time for bed as you said. Good night." He kissed you once more on the cheek.

You pouted and looked up to see him cuddle you with such a soft expression. So you relented, "Okay. Good night Noritoshi." And fell into a deep sleep in his arms.

◇◇◇

"Nnnghhh…."

"Mmnghhh…."

…. You opened your eyes to see Noritoshi groaning above you. It's like 3am, in the middle of the night, and you accidentally shoved your knee in his gut.

He was still asleep, but he could feel the pain. You hurriedly retracted your knee, reaching over to pat him on the back. Then moving to stroke him gently on the head.

As he finally settled back into sleep, you subconsciously moved forward to tuck your head under his neck. He is feverishly warm and comfortable. It’s gonna be hard going to bed without him.

And as you fell back into a deep sleep in his arms, Noritoshi, still asleep, wrapped his arms tighter around you and then continued dozing off.

◇◇◇

You felt yourself wake up with the best night’s sleep you’ve had in years. And that was saying something.

Noritoshi was still sleeping. He looked like he was having a rather nice dream. You traced the outline of his features with your fingers until his eyes snapped open.

You jumped back, shrieking and almost falling off the edge of the bed. But Noritoshi had fast reflexes, hand reaching out to grab your waist and pull you close to him. Your face smacked into his chest.

"Morning." His voice was so deep and raspy, you shivered at the sound. His eyes darkened.

"Morning senpai." You whispered, feeling so small.

"Do you make it a habit to play with other people’s faces while they’re asleep?" He whispered.

Goosebumps prickled along your skin as he stroked your arms slowly. "Ahh, I didn’t know you were awake, I’m sorry." You blushed.

Both of your stomachs were kind enough to growl and save your sorry ass. Noritoshi laughed at this.

"My darling needs some breakfast. I'll have the Kamo household prepare and deliver some for us." He said as he reached for his phone.

"Noritoshi, you don't have to, I don't want to be a bother really." You tugged at his sleeves.

“I already said you're never a bother to me haven't I?” He slumped over you as he typed out a text.

You groaned from underneath, "You're heavy Noritoshi."

"That's to stop you from leaving my room without breakfast." He deadpanned.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[onesillybeach]

New Beginnings Ch. 18

F!Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao

This one is short and I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. Also, yay Helena cameo~ But also, aw, Helena cameo ;-;

@ancientowlgirl @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @shang-hung

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 *15 16 *17

You two hadn’t had sex. You’d made out. You’d talked. You’d made out some more. You’d talked some more. You’d fallen asleep with Liu in his bed. His light snores had lulled you to sleep comfortably. Finally, relaxed.

You’d woken up the next morning when Liu had shifted. You felt his lips on your forehead and smiled before opening your eyes to look at him.

“Good morning,” Liu said softly.

“Sure is,” you said, then returned the kiss, but to his lips.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright.”

“Did you want to train with me this morning?”

Yes. You did… But you trained with Lao in the morning. And today was supposed to be Lao’s day with you as well. If you ditched him for Liu… You didn’t want to think what would happen. But, instead of telling Liu that, you shook your head and snuggled under his covers, inhaling his scent. “I’m gonna sleep a bit more. I’ll see you at breakfast?”

He grinned and nodded as he got out of bed. “Take your time,” he told you, grabbing his gi-top from the floor and tossing it into a basket. He took another moment to watch you with a smile before stepping out into the hall.

As weird as it was to notice, Raiden had not been acting like himself lately. Him being distant wasn't new. Raiden had seemed to keep a distance between everyone. But as you trained with Kung Lao, you noticed Raiden watching with a solemn expression.

When you finished training, Lao had given you a kiss. Oh, that kiss. It wasn’t a simple kiss. No. You’d learned that Lao wasn’t a fan of giving you those little pecks. When he kissed you, he did so with purpose. He’d held your face. His lips engulfed you. That alone could be all the encouragement you needed to train harder. As he pulled away, your smile brought him to smile in return. You could tell the kiss encouraged him as well. It was a reward for both of you. But instead of following him to Breakfast, you told him you would catch up later.

You watched Lao walk off… watched his ass a bit selfishly, then turned your attention towards Raiden. He was watching you.

You gave him a respectful bow.

He gave you a bow of his head.

"Lord Raiden," you addressed as you approached him. "Are you alright?"

He raised his brows to you. "Of course I am, Y/F/N."

"You don't look it," you pressed.

Raiden took in a stiff breath. "I assure you, I am fine."

"You can't lie to a nurse," you told him. "We know better."

That got a little chuckle from him. "You are quite observant."

"I was trained for it."

"I suppose you were."

"So what's bothering you? Is it me? Am I not training hard enough?"

"You are doing well."

“The kiss? Was that awkward for you?”

“No.”

"Then what is it?"

Raiden sighed. His glowing eyes shifted away from you. "Your issue has painfully reminded me of my own."

"Of the person you loved?" You’d remembered.

"I still love," he corrected you.

"Didn't you say it's been like five-hundred years?"

He nodded.

"They're… still alive?"

"...No.”

"Oh..." You weren’t sure what to say.

Raiden sucked in another breath. You could tell this was difficult for him to talk about. "She was killed in a tournament."

"What was her name?"

Raiden frowned a bit. "Helena Morana," he'd breathed.

You blinked at him. "A human?"

He nodded.

"What was she like?"

“Just and selfless. She used her magic to help others, even myself.”

"She was a witch?"

“A sorceress.”

"Like Shang Tsung?"

Raiden frowned. "No. Not like Shang Tsung. Shang Tsung is a snake corrupted by evil… Helena Morana… My Helena… Was once a beacon of light and hope for me." As Raiden stared at you, you could tell he was hurting. You could see the pain in his eyes. He wanted to say something else, but no words came from his lips. You frowned to him.

"You are concerned for me?" Raiden asked, now amused.

You nodded. "She must have meant a lot to you.”

“She still does.”

You were quiet then. The way he spoke of Helena, as if she still existed, made you wonder. He must have read your mind again, because he chuckled and nodded. He then offered you his arm. You took it carefully despite your confusion. He began to lead you through the halls.

"What do you know of Mortal Kombat's history?" He asked you curiously.

You cringed. History was never your forte. You barely passed your history classes in highschool. And you honestly didn't remember much of what Liu had told you. You blew out your cheeks.

"Ah." Raiden nodded, not at all disappointed. "It is a complicated history. Do not worry."

"Liu told me all kinds of things. I just…" You made a vague motion with your free hand.

"It is alright. You are being forced to learn much in little time."

"Yeah…" You frowned despite Raiden's understanding.

"He did not mention my Helena?" He asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I know he told me about a bunch of people, but I think I would have remembered your girlfriend. It’s kind of… odd.” He lifted a brow to you then. You quickly tried to explain yourself. “I mean. You don’t usually hear about gods falling in love with humans… Except for like, Greek mythology.”

Raiden laughed. A good laugh. But he said nothing as he continued to lead you through the halls. Eventually, they grew totally unfamiliar. You'd never seen this part of the temple, but you knew you were deep in. The air smelled different… musty.

Raiden stopped before a large wooden door and turned to look at you. "Prepare yourself. I know mortals are rather uncomfortable with what rests behind this door.” And before you could answer, the door had opened and revealed to you the source of that musty smell.

Tombs. Catacombs. Hundreds--No, thousands— of bodies were at rest, lined neatly along the walls, dressed in robes. Most of them were nothing but skeletons now. Some seemed mummified. You quickly realised who these people were as you stepped in: Monks. Your brows knotted. Why had Raiden brought you here? And why weren’t you grossed out?

Probably because you’d seen your fair share of disgusting things. Being a nurse wasn’t all bandaids and booster shots.

“Come,” Raiden said, pulling you from your head. You turned to see him walking further into the catacombs. You quickly followed. “Those who perish in my service, do not go forgotten,” Raiden said.

“Are all of these people… Did they all serve you?”

“Yes,” he simply answered. The further he led you, the more you were grateful he was there to guide you. The catacombs were an absolute maze.

“This place is insane…” You whispered as you looked from one body to the next.

“Those here are only the ones who wished to be here… or had no other place to go.”

You turned your head to look up at him.

“You may be put to rest here as well, if you choose.”

Your jaw stiffened. You were sure Raiden meant that as a simple offer, and not a warning of what was to come. “Thanks…” You said. “But… I don’t think I’d match the dress code.” Joke. Humor. Always when awkwardness hit.

Raiden glanced to you. “There is no dress code.”

Maybe he just didn’t understand that it was a joke. “The robes… And the… bones. I think I’d look too fresh.” Oh, God, what was wrong with you? You weren’t a slab of meat! “I mean—”

“They were not all just bones and robes when they entered here.”

“No, I… I guess so. I just… I’m sorry. You just threw me a curve ball and I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Ah,” He nodded.

You must have followed Raiden for several more minutes before you began to notice a change. Some of the bodies wore armor instead of robes. Were those… fighters? Former Earthrealm defenders? Wait, if those ones were here… “You’re taking me to her, aren’t you?”

Raiden let a small grin pull his lips.

“How did she die?” you asked. “I know you said in a tournament, but… how?”

“Shang Tsung defeated her. He took her soul.”

The catacombs had twisted and turned the whole way so far, but Raiden now led you into a large, circular room. The walls were lined with more remains, all in different clothing. Some with beautiful armor, some in simple clothing. One section of a wall in particular caught your eye. Nine bodies, each with their own burning incense, were lined up on their own shelves. And the shelves and remains themselves were neat and clean. Stepping closer to them, you could hardly see a speck of dirt nor dust on either of them. It was such a stark contrast to the rest of the bodies in the room, and in the rest of the catacombs, where the bodies had mostly seemed left alone. But these nine seemed actively taken care of. Why?

“Kung Lao’s ancestors,” Raiden answered your curiosity.

Lao’s ancestors. Nine of them? Surely there were more...

“This room is for Earthrealm’s former defenders,” Raiden answered your thoughts again.

“So these are all the past Kung Laos?” You asked, stepping back to look them all over as a whole. “Then this one here—” you pointed to the one you figured was the oldest.

“The Great Kung Lao,” Raiden answered. He sighed then and rested his hand on the edge of a raised, open, sarcophagus in the center of the room. “And this is my Helena,” Raiden said slowly, painfully. He wouldn’t even look at his lover’s remains. It was too painful. You looked, though. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d stepped right over and peered down into the stone sarcophagus.

She wore a dark dress. You weren’t sure what color it used to be. She wore simple shoes, not too different from the ones you were offered by the temple. Her hands were folded neatly over her stomach. Her hair was long and black and draped over her shoulders. And you could tell, even with how horribly sunken her face was, how mummified she was, that she used to be pretty… gorgeous even. You frowned at the sight. “She’s beautiful, Lord Raiden,” you said softly.

A small, single sound of disbelief left him. “She is nothing but brittle skin and bone now.”

“Well… Yeah,” Your frown sunk. You supposed it did sound silly to say such a grotesque sight was beautiful. “But… That’s not how you remember her.”

Raiden nodded, then let his grin come back to his face. “No, it is not.”

“She’s beautiful, Lord Raiden,” You repeated.

“She is,” he agreed.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

All Over Again - Chapter 11

Summary: What was lost can be found. 

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence. 

Ch. 10

* * * * * *

Sweat builds with each second that passes. 

You wring your fingers together nervously as your leg bounces up and down. 

Calling a team meeting was the fastest way to get this done so here you sit, in the common room of the compound, waiting for everyone to show up. 

Just two weeks ago you’d come to the decision to move to National City with Lena. In the time that passed after that you spent three days there, mostly hanging with Lena but also visiting the DEO. You weren’t surprised to see Alex there, the woman being the director. While she hadn’t welcomed you with open arms, she was impressed with your initial interview(which was just her kicking your ass up and down the training room). After being assured you’d have a spot at the DEO by the Director herself, you came back to NYC. 

The team had yet to handle the enhanced individual situation but the moment you got back, or at least the day after, you all organized a mission to capture them. With the whole team’s collective strength and skill, you were successful in capturing the enhanced which you were glad for. It made this part all the more easy.

“Y/Ln what’s the reason for this meeting?” Steve asks, stepping around the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, a mask of strictly business written on his face. 

“I-I’d rather wait for the rest of the team before I say anything. Could you sit?” You gesture to the couch, ignoring how your hand shakes in nervousness. 

Steve clearly catches the involuntary action, eyebrow quirking in the slightest. He sits nonetheless. 

Much like Steve, everyone eyes you curiously or straight out asks what the point of the meeting is as they come in and you tell them to be patient. Until finally everyone is seated on the couches around you, all of their eyes trying to look through you to figure out what’s going on.

They’re the people you’ve grown to love and care for over the years. People you’d give your life for without question. Your family. And you’re about to leave them. 

E/c eyes land on familiar green ones. The two of you have yet to talk again, after the engagement situation and all. Admittedly you’d miss the hell out of her. Sure things haven’t been great the past couple years but that couldn’t write away all the good before that. She’d given you a love like no other for three years. She cherished and loved you and there was no denying that.

You then look over to the other set of green eyes. Ones that belonged to the young woman you’ve loved and will always love. You claim her as your best friend but she’s your sister, a blessing you hadn’t had before the Avengers. God, leaving her is going to be the hardest. Looking at her soft, reassuring expression, it’s already tearing you up inside.

“Um-” you clear your throat, hating the sting of fresh tears that starts in your eyes,“ I guess there’s no easy way to say this but I- I’m moving to National City.” 

. . .

. . . 

. . .

“No you’re not.” Natasha is the first to speak, voice hard with determination. That same emotion in her eyes. 

But the look you give her makes that slip away.

Steve frowns, sliding to the edge of the couch,“ why?”

You have to look away from Natasha. You can’t say why if you’re staring into those already hurt green eyes.“ My girlfriend lives in National City. I think it’d be best for our relationship and quite frankly myself if we were closer.”

That answer triggers a wave of mixed responses from everyone. For the most part they’re upset but some of them, Bucky and Bruce, are fairly calm about it all. Sam is damn near shouting at you, not understanding why long distance couldn’t continue to work since it had obviously been before. Steve can’t believe you’d give up saving people to go to National City and you can’t even tell him that that’s not what you’re doing since Natasha is mean mugging you and damn near spitting at you that you need to think on this more and it’d be stupid of you to just up and leave for a relationship that’s just begun. 

In their anger, no one notices the single tear that slides down your cheek, almost no one. Before you can swipe it away and pretend it’s not there, a gentle hand rests on your cheek and an equally soft thumb brushes it away. 

You already know who it belongs to and you can’t bring yourself to look at her. 

“Y/n,” Wanda’s quiet, honey like voice hits your ears.“ Is moving going to make you happy?” 

Out of all the things you’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. It makes you look at her. 

She’s squatting in front of you, one hand resting on your knee and the other still on your cheek. The look in her eyes, though distorted by unshed tears, is pure and sincere. Your best friend/sister just wants you to be happy. To her, you deserve it more than anyone she’s ever known. She’s seen how happy Lena makes you and if going to be with her is going to further that she sure as hell isn’t going to stand in the way of that.

Nodding, you take a shaky breath,“ yeah it is”

“Then go and don’t feel bad for leaving.” Now she’s the one letting tears fall.“ Just promise to come visit.”

Both your hands cup her face to wipe the now quickly falling tears,“ you know I could never leave you for long.” The two of you, moving in near perfect harmony, wrap each other in a hug. 

Wanda’s arms loop around your neck, face pressed into your neck, as yours tightly wrap around her waist. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much Wan.” Your voice is a whisper against her neck.

The two of you remain in your embrace, completely forgetting the team around you. They all looked on, seeing you like that with Wanda makes them realize that as hard as this is for them it’s the same for you. You may be the one making the decision to move but that doesn’t mean you aren’t hurt by leaving them. 

Pulling away, Wanda grabs your hand. At this point she just needs to be close to you.

“When are you leaving?” Steve asks.

You take one more steadying breath,“ about a month from now. I want to get everything squared away here.” His eyebrow raises.“ If it’s okay with you I’d like to stay as a remote member of the team, I’d be more than happy to come help if need be but I’ll be working with the DEO in National City.”

Steve nods, already knowing of the organization, while the rest of the team waits for an explanation. 

“Department of Extranormal Operations.” 

“So you have everything set then?” Bucky asks.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips,“ yeah. Job is set and I’ll be living with Lena. Plus it’s nice to already have friends there so-”

“You’re living with her?” All gazes more to Natasha.“ What if things don’t work out?”

Instead of getting angry with her, you take a deep breath in. She’s upset which you take into consideration before replying,“ well for one I’m hoping things do indeed work out and if they don’t I’m very capable of making it on my own if need be.”

Her eyes narrow at you and the second Bruce’s hand brushes her leg she shoots up and walks away. E/c eyes follow her as she leaves the common room and you look back at Bruce,“ you mind if I-”

“Sure sure.” He nods and gestures after her. 

Giving Wanda’s hand a gentle squeeze, you smile softly at her nod, and follow after the upset redhead. She can only be one of two places and when you check the first(the gym) and she’s not there, you head straight up to the roof. 

As expected you find her there. She’s sitting on the ledge, legs hanging over, as she plays with her fingers. For just a moment you allow myself to take in how beautiful she still is, especially with the sun accentuating the brown specks in her green eyes and her hair, unusually, in a ponytail. You look away before you can begin to feel guilty.

“Hey.” Your voice is deliberately soft as you sit beside her. 

When she looks over, you can feel her eyes bore into the side of your head.“ I knew when you told me that I wouldn’t lose you it wasn’t true bu-”

“I meant it when I said you wouldn’t lose me-”

“Yet you haven’t spoken to me since that day and now you’re leaving so how am I not losing you?”

“I’m not leaving forever Natasha. And I’m sorry we haven’t spoken but things have been insane between us and I don’t want it to be. I just got frustrated with the engagement and your need for an answer.” 

“I’m sorry okay I didn’t want to frustrate you.” Seeing tears glisten in her eyes breaks your heart.“ If you’re leaving because of me- because of how I’ve been acting then don’t okay I can-” 

Hating that the usually strong woman is so deeply affected by this, you wrap an arm around her without thought, and pull her into your side. She’s quick to bring her arms around your middle and hug you back. 

The deep sigh you give makes her tighten her hold a bit.“ Tasha I promise you I’m not leaving because of you. Like I’ve said, things haven’t been perfect with us but that doesn’t mean I’d run from it. I just want to be closer to Lena.”

Those words make Natasha pull back, her hands running up her face and over her hair.“ Is this real- with her?” Honestly the woman is trying her damndest to come to terms with you, quite obviously, loving someone else.  

You nod, making sure to look into her eyes so she knows how serious you are,“ it is. I truly love her and I know she feels the same. It’s why this move is so important. We’re going to have issues and the distance would just make that worse. And I don’t want the distance to be the problem either.”

“I understand.” She nods, her bottom lip settling between her teeth as she looks away.“ Just be careful I- I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” 

“Trust me I will be.”

Silence creeps in and you both stay up there for a little longer. It’s the most untense the atmosphere has ever been between yourself and Natasha in years and finally, after all this time around her, you can smile. Natasha, upon seeing the expression, does so herself. 

But around the compound moments never last. This particular one is cut short at the quiet, almost inaudible, sound of a jet. 

Looking ahead reveals the all too familiar red and gold color metal suit. Iron Man hovering up and over onto the roof. His thrusters stop and he power poses as he hits the ground. His helmet disassembles from his face to reveal the glare he’s fixed at you.

Taken aback by it, you lean away just a little,“ hey Tony.”

“You’re leaving. I don’t recall giving you permission to do so.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues,“ as an original member of the team and a long time friend I hereby forbid from leaving. Glad that’s settled.” He shrugs as if to end the conversation.

With raised eyebrows, you reply,“ Tony, it’s best for me to go to National City, and it’s best for-”

“Miss Luthor. Yes I’m aware. Lena’s a lucky lady but we have dibs so. . .” His eyes scan your face before flicking away to some random sight.

Sighing, you step toward the man and rest a hand on the nanotech suit. You aren’t at all surprised by his reaction, especially after the way everyone else reacted. This is his way of telling you he’s going to miss you without saying anything.“ Tony I promise I’m gonna visit. And I’ll be on call for whenever I’m needed.”

“Then you might as well just not leave.” 

A pointed look from you and Tony knows to not fight it any further. Not that he really thought his words would make you stay. 

“Don’t think you’re escaping without a party.” He says as the helmet forms again.“ I’ll send you the details, make sure the schedule’s clear.” And with that he shoots off into the sky. 

Over the next few weeks you find yourself more busy than you have been. For the majority of the beginning you focus on dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s of your business with the Avengers, filing mission reports, working on weapons that could be needed, and finishing missions that were previously assigned. 

The very second that was all done, you went straight to Wanda. Your first night with the young woman, you didn’t sleep a wink, even though it was a sleepover. 

Between the endless movies, random dance/singing sessions, pigging out on food and sweets, and just talking to each other about any and everything, you’d ended up spending four days with her and only her. After which you promptly, and rightfully, dedicated time to your entire team. 

Your impending departure drew you closer to every member of the team, yes even Bruce who, while not your best friend or anything, proved to be a truly cool guy. The time spent with him pushed you over that line you’d been hesitant to cross. He’s what Natasha needs and what she wants. Acknowledging that she’s going to be more than fine with you gone makes this whole thing that bit easier.  

Before you know it, your last month is up.

“Hey, you ready?” 

Smoothing your hands down the button up you’d chosen for tonight, you raise your gaze to Wanda through the mirror and smile.“ Is anyone ever ready for Tony’s parties?” You refrain from bringing up that it’ll be your last for a while.

Your best friend shakes her head,“ no never.” She makes you chuckle.

Easily looping her arm around yours, she walks you both out of your now empty room and down the halls to the common room.

With Tony having planned this whole thing, you weren’t sure what to expect but what you find doesn’t surprise you. 

Across the front windows are big golden balloons spelling out “Later Traitor” and you nod, suppressing a laugh. More gold and silver balloons and streamers decorate the place. The table is covered with food and the bar is just barely decorated but still in theme. 

“Ever one for tact mister Stark.” You joke as you approach him. 

His head rises, brown eyes locking with yours,“ I wouldn’t be me if I weren’t honest.” The man hands his drink over to Pepper,“ I’ll need daily reports of your time in NC,” the billionaire says, leaving no room for a rebuttal as he adds,“ and if you need anything at all let me know.” With that he’s pulling you into a hug. 

Admittedly it’s been a long while since you’ve hugged Tony and you missed it. It wasn’t much of a common occurrence but for him to now show his care for you through the action warms your heart. 

Gentle pats to each other's backs make you pull away. You exchange a few words with Pepper who’s as sweet as she’s always been, making you promise to visit often, before hugging and then heading to the bar. 

Much like every party you’d been to here, your eyes are met with the sight of an incredibly familiar redhead. Her hair is down, curls falling over her shoulders in complement to the fitting black dress she sports. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” You instantly tease, leaning against the bartop.

Green eyes land on you, a large amount of restraint used to not let them linger your form,“ I figured if anyone would be serving you drinks tonight it should be me.” Red lips curl into a little smirk.

Head tilting ever so slightly as you smile a bit, you nod,“ than I’ll have the usual miss Romanoff.”

As she makes your drink, you’re approached by a number of people: Rhodey, Carol, Steve, Bucky, etc. Everyone makes mention of seeing you soon, wishing you luck, and promising to not be strangers. You’re hugged more now than you’ve ever been.

A coaster is placed right beside your arm, your usual sat on top in a glass.“ Enjoying all the attention Y/Ln?”

“In every way I’ll allow myself to yes.” You answer cryptically, knowing Natasha understands.

Martini glass raised to her lips, she takes a sip and maintains eye contact,“ if you need to step away feel free to find me,” another smirk,“ or if you need another drink.”

Walking away with her statement lingering in the air, Natasha ensures she doesn’t look back at you.

You chuckle softly, a slight shake of your head your way of accepting her small flirtatious comment. It’s Natasha, you expect nothing less. 

Over the next few hours, surrounded by the people you’ve spent almost half your life with, stories are shared, jokes are told, and more memories are made. By the time you take Natasha up on her offer to step away, your stomach and face hurts from laughing and smiling seemingly too much. 

The redhead eyes you while walking up the stairs,“ you’re not gonna die on me on the way up are you?” She teases about your rapid breaths and slightly flushed face. 

“Are you implying you wouldn’t try to save me?” You quirk a brow.

The so-so tilt of her head makes your jaw drop and she laughs at you,“ you know I’d stop at nothing to ensure your safety Y/n.” 

Her words make you smile softly and you goodnaturedly bump your shoulder against hers,“ ditto Romanoff.” 

Your time on the roof with her is spent in scattered silence. Every so often one of you brings up a memory or some random topic. Reconnecting with her feels really good and it’s a shared sentiment, made known as the two of you turn to head back inside.

“Hey uh,” she reaches out, grabbing your hand and stopping you from walking further,“ I- I’m really going to miss you.” 

Eyes softening, you think nothing of pulling her into a hug. Her arms wrap around your middle and yours take place around her shoulders. For the first time in years, Natsha’s head rests against your chest, ear pressed to your heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna miss you too Tash.” Giving her a good squeeze, you pull back, still holding her shoulders,“ you make sure I get a wedding invite.”

Smiling softly, she nods, and hugs you once more. 

After that things seemed to move faster than you’d wished. You say goodbye to everyone who’d come to see you off, grabbed the things you packed to take with you on your flight, and climbed onto the quinjet. 

Wanda had insisted she be with you until she absolutely had to leave your side, which is why Sam offered to fly. The man now pilots the jet as you sit beside your best friend in the back. 

Her body presses into your side, arms wrapped securely around you as you reciprocate her cuddle. 

“I’m moving, not dying.” You joke lightly even though your emotions match hers exactly.

She sighs and snuggles closer as if that’s possible,“ I know but this is different than before. It’s permanent. No more random sleepovers and throwing popcorn at Bucky during movie nights. I won’t be able to have your breakfast in the morning or be able to train with you just to get distracted halfway through.”

The sigh you now give is just like hers,“ I mean, we’ll still be able to do that stuff, just not as frequently as we used to. I promise I’ll visit often.”

Your promise lingers in the air until you’re flying into National City. The closer the jet gets to the ground the more visible the awaiting black sedan. It pulls a smile to your face when you land and see the gorgeous woman waiting at the front of the car, her gaze clearly locked on the jet. 

As the doors open and the jet sits idly, Sam gets up to help carry your bags and you stay back to have one more moment with Wanda.

“Call me when you guys get back home, kay?” You give the younger woman a pointed look and she nods.“ I told you I’d always be there for you and that won’t change cause I’m moving.”

She nods again,“ I know, I know.” Then pulls you into a tight hug, face buried against your chest like Natasha’s had hours ago.

“I love you Wan.” You whisper against her hair. Wanda replies with the same sentiment and a tight squeeze before stepping away. 

From her you give Sam a quick hug, jokingly telling him not to waste the imbued bullets you’d left for him, and then back step as they climb back into the jet. 

Reaching Lena’s side, the woman wastes no time slipping her hand into yours as you watch the jet take off. 

It’s quiet for a moment, then Lena asks,“ you okay?”

You turn to face her and smile brightly,“ I am yeah.” Stepping closer, you rest your forehead against hers,“ I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Her voice is just as quiet is yours and she draws closer to kiss you passionately. 

Having her lips against yours after a month sends a swirling feeling straight to your stomach and you sigh into the kiss. 

“Let’s get home shall we?” 

A simple nod later and you’re climbing into the car and pulling away from the private airstrip. The whole drive to Lena’s apartment, you damn near feel the excitement radiating off of her. From the way her hand squeezes yours to the taps of her fingers against the steering wheel and the little smile that seems permanently on her lips. Admittedly it makes you just as excited, seeing how clearly important it is to her that you’re here and moving in just makes your heart flutter. 

Just when you think she can’t get any cuter, the instant you’re in the apartment a brilliant smile is on both your faces.

The usually calm and collected CEO takes you around the place in an adorably giddy mood, showing you all that she’d changed to insure you are comfortable moving in. She’d cleared off spaces on her bookshelves for you, converted one of her guest rooms to a mini lab/office just for you, and what she seemed most excited about, having cleared space in her closet and had a new dresser brought in for your clothes, plus making sure there was room for your things in the master bathroom. 

Her words seemed to escape her faster than the Flash as she walked you through the entire place and showed you everything. You’d spent more time looking at her beautiful face, green eyes lighting up like stars, than you did actually paying attention to the tour of your new home. But you’ll have plenty of time to learn the place so it doesn’t matter.

Your welcome doesn’t stop there either. Once you both have unpacked your essentials, Lena has dinner, the usual takeout, and champagne waiting for you at the table. As you eat and indulge in more than a few glasses, you express your appreciation for all that she’d done and you both share in your excitement about this whole thing.

Laughter and smiles continue as you share about your little quirks and pet peeves when it comes to living with someone. There weren’t many and truthfully most of them were shared so you didn’t think this would end in flames. 

All that excitement leads to pure nervousness as you both realize how tired you are. In the rush of it all, neither of you really gave thought to the fact that you’d be sharing a bed tonight. It seems as though you both try to procrastinate a bit, taking longer than needed to wash the dishes and bring in the last of your bags and having showers that go just a little too long. 

By the time you're both ready, Lena is biting her lip nervously as you stand side by side staring at the large king size bed. 

Silence sits far too long for your liking, resulting in a soft chuckle from you. 

“Can we admit that we’re being a bit childish here?” You ask, looking over at her green orbs. 

Seeing the light in your e/c ones and hearing your teasing tone make her laugh a little,“ yeah I guess we are.”

But when she doesn’t move you figure it’s on you, so furthering the childishness, you jump onto the bed. Bouncing back until you’re resting against the headboard, you pull the covers back and pat the other side of the mattress while looking at Lena.

“Let’s not lose sleep because we’re being awkward.” 

At your words, she shakes her head and climbs into the very space you’d just patted. After you’re both comfortable under the cloud-like comforter, Lena presses a single button on the remote on her side table and the lights go out. 

Another button push has the curtains drawing closed, the room going dark, aside from the slivers of moonlight.

It takes a couple hesitant twists and turns for you to find a position that's just right, only to realize that in a bed beside the woman you love, this position(facing the windows away from her) isn’t at all how you wish to sleep.

With a short inhale, you shift once more, turning around to face Lena who you find staring up at the ceiling. Subconsciously you bite your lip. It’s not lost on you how cliche it is to say that she looks breathtaking in the moonlight but you can’t possibly ignore it.

The white rays sneak through her curtains casting this incredibly angelic glow on to her skin. You’re so lost in her that you don’t even notice when she turns to look at you, that is until you look back up to her eyes and find that green you’ve grown to love staring right back.

“Am I being creepy?” You whisper into the silence inciting a quiet giggle from the woman. 

She shakes her head,“ no you’re not.” Her eyes search your eyes and the cutest little frown and pout covers her face,“ what’s wrong?” Whatever she found made her ask. 

“I don’t know. Nothing’s really wrong it’s just-” You pause to think of what to say and how to say it. Lena’s soft eyes remind you of how honest you can be with her, free of judgment, which leads to you blabbing what’s running through your head.“ I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I can’t help but want to hold you or your hand at least. And I can’t just roll over and do that cause what if you don’t like to be held or you aren’t ready for-”

Your girlfriend, amidst your rambling, doesn't withhold her smile. She’s seen the confidence you hold while speaking to investors or members of “high ranking society”, she’s seen the incredibly sweet you that’s portrayed in your dealing with her friends and Wanda, and she’s obviously seen the nerdy side of you that could convert alien engine energy into clean reusable energy. 

Each side of you she’d fallen in love with. And now she has the privilege of seeing this, slightly flustered and still partly dorky side, and falling in love all over again. 

Mid rant, Lena scoots closer, runs her gentle fingers up your arm to cup your neck, and kisses you. The soft plump muscles melt against yours making you sigh in pure euphoria. 

“I was talking too much huh?” You ask once having pulled away. 

A chuckle falls against your lips from hers,“ not necessarily. I just found your rambling cute.” Heat rushes to your face at her admission.“ And for the record, I would love it if you held me.”

“Yeah?”

She nods and smiles softly before turning over, grabbing your arm, and lying it over her waist. 

You take her consent and encouragement to scoot closer so as to press against her. Lena sighs happily at the soft warm breaths that fan her neck and wiggles ever closer, not that it’s possible. 

It’s right there with your arms around her body that you wonder why you’d had any doubts to begin with and it’s in your arms that Lena sees how perfect this truly is. 

* * * * * * 

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom​ @chicken-wang09​ @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl​ @blackluthxr @starlingelliot @vxidnik

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 11/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Part 2 is now out and the first chapter can be read on tumblr or ao3.

Words: 1,406

"I can't believe we were both right." Tony shook his head. 

The baby was a boy with a light dusting of blond hair on his head and startling blue eyes that stared up at them all sparkling and full of wonder as he took in all of the new sights around him. 

"He's beautiful," Steve murmured. 

Tony hummed in agreement, pulling the baby closer to sniff his head and take in that baby scent that seems to cling to all young pups. They were still just staring at their baby in awe when he started to cry and Tony's nipples started to leak, wet spots forming on his shirt. 

"I think I'm gonna have to walk around shirtless for the next few years," Tony said with a sigh. 

Steve glanced at him in surprise as Tony passed the baby off to Steve and stripped off his shirt. 

"I have no complaints there, but you do realize he's only gonna stay a baby for like one maybe two years max." 

Tony gave him a look. 

"Don't question my parenting methods, Alpha. You're not the one who carried this thing in them for nine months and you didn't have to deal with him jumping on your bladder either. So I get to make all the decisions when it comes to how we're gonna raise him." 

"Yeah, but I'm gonna be the one staying home with him." 

"I know and I'm very grateful, but if you have any questions you can just call me." 

Steve nodded, because there was nothing else to say about it. If Tony said this was the way it was going to be, then this was the way it was going to be. 

"I'm gonna get hard if you keep bossing me around." 

"Good, we can get started on trying for the next one," Tony teased, taking the crying baby back and coaxing him to latch onto his nipple. 

Steve's eyes widened and he looked scared at the thought. 

"Another one? Already?" Steve squeaked. 

Tony just giggled. 

"I'm just kidding, Alpha. We'll wait until I stop breastfeeding this little guy and then we can try for another one. Until then, I'm going on the pill." 

Steve nodded. 

"Cool. That's, um, cool," Steve said awkwardly. "It's not like I'm against having another one. It's just- I'm still not sure what we're gonna do with this one." 

Tony smiled softly and kissed his cheek, still cradling Harley to his chest while he suckled at his nipple. 

"You're gonna be a great daddy, Steve," Tony promised.

Steve grinned at him and leaned down to kiss him. 

"And don't worry about not knowing what you're doing. I'm an Omega so I have the instincts for these kinds of things." 

"Yeah, but I'm not an Omega." 

"I know that, but you didn't know what you were doing when we first started fucking, but I taught you how to please me and I'll teach you how to do this too." 

Steve blushed bright red. 

"You said I did good!" Steve squeaked. 

"You did. You were eager to please and what you lacked in skill you made up for by being cute." 

"What I lacked?" Steve said, his ego clearly bruised. 

Tony rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, Steve. You were a virgin and the way we play goes against most all of your instincts, so it took some time for you to learn. There's nothing wrong with that. I'm a very experienced teacher and you learned quickly how to get me off, so no harm done." 

"Tony!" Steve squeaked. 

"What? Don't worry about it. You're much better now." 

Steve just scoffed and shook his head. 

"Yeah, whatever," Steve grumbled. "I'm gonna go start dinner." 

Tony sighed as he walked away, but his attention quickly turned to Harley. 

"As soon as you can hold your head up, I'm gonna let your daddy take you for a ride on the bike that you were named after," Tony cooed at him. 

The baby didn't respond of course, still happily suckling at Tony's flat chest, but he did look up at his mom like he was aware of what Tony was talking about. Tony smiled softly at him and brushed a finger over his cheek. 

"You're gonna be the most spoiled, loved, happiest baby in the world Harley. I promise," Tony murmured.

*****

Steve was still pouting when they went to bed that night, Harley curled up in between them. Tony really didn't think he would be so hurt by the comment, since in many ways Steve didn't seem like an Alpha. Sure, he was protective and he had a knot, but for the most part he acted more like an Omega, at least when it was just the two of them. 

Tony wasn't stupid though. He knew he had upset him and he sighed when Steve kept peering at him through his lashes, a pout on his lips, looking away anytime Tony looked his way. 

"Steve," Tony groaned, scooping Harley up and gently laying him back down so he was now sleeping by the wall instead of in between them. 

They had pushed the bed up against the wall, because Tony had read that was the safest way to co-sleep. 

"Alpha. My pretty, pretty, Alpha. I love you so much, you know that right?" 

Steve didn't respond, he just bit his lip and fidgeted with the sheets. Tony groaned again and pushed him flat on his back, climbing on top of him. 

"Steve, look at me," Tony ordered, knowing that Steve wouldn't disobey him. 

He smirked when Steve's eyes snapped up to meet his instinctually. 

"There you go, pretty Alpha. Such a good boy you are, Alpha," Tony purred. "I'm sorry that I upset you, but you don't get to just pout about it. If there's something wrong you have to tell me. You don't get to keep things from me, Alpha, because you're mine. You understand?" 

Steve bit his lip, his eyes darting away from Tony's, but returning when Tony growled softly in that way that wasn't quite a growl but still managed to come off as a warning. 

"Yes, sir. I understand." 

"Good. You're so good for me, Alpha. I didn't mean to upset you and I shouldn't have teased you like that. It was mean. Can you forgive me?" 

Steve whimpered, pouting. 

"I'm still an Alpha, you know. I know that I'm not like other Alphas, but I still have pride, Tony." 

"Aw, I know you do and I like that you're not like other Alphas. I won't do it again, okay?" 

Steve chewed on his lip for a moment, considering something.

"Um, Tony?" 

"Hm?" 

"Do you think you could maybe do it again, but maybe while we're, you know, mating?" 

Tony raised his brow at him. 

"Really? You want me to humiliate you, Alpha?" 

Steve licked his lips nervously, nodding. His cheeks were bright red, but Tony could feel his dick hardening. 

"Maybe just a little?" 

Tony chuckled and kissed him. 

"Yeah, I could do that, but not now. Sam and Brock are watching Harley this Friday and I'll take you apart then, okay, baby?" 

Steve whined, his hips rocking up. 

"Please, sir." 

"Shh, not now," Tony murmured. "Don't wake the baby or I'll be punishing you on Friday." 

Steve whined again, but he wrapped his arms around Tony when he slipped off of him and pressed back until his ass was snug against the erection in Steve's sweats. Steve squirmed and Tony smirked, shifting slightly just to hear him whine again, the sound muffled as he ducked to hide his head in Tony's neck. 

"I love you, Alpha," Tony teased, his voice sugary sweet.

"I hate you," Steve mumbled into his neck and Tony wriggled his hips just to punish him. 

"Be good, Alpha, or I'll make you regret it." 

Steve sucked at his neck, his hips rutting forward at the threat. 

"I love you, Tony. My pretty Omega. I don't know how I got so lucky." 

"I don't know how you got so lucky either. I'm a catch," Tony teased. 

Steve rolled his eyes affectionately and kissed Tony's cheek. 

"You really are." 

Tony smiled softly, a light blush on his cheek. His eyes landed on their baby in his sleep sack, laying on top of their thin covers. He doesn't know how he got to be so lucky as to end up with a perfect mate and a perfect pup.