#its like a cold war for him he's never gonna speak it out loud but he IS winning (delusional)

[sophiethewitch1]

You mentioned that all the Wayne's post thirst traps. And that Damian's are like Victorian women showing some racy ankle. What does he consider a thirst trap then.

Have you ever seen a man in a dark turtle neck sweater.

[mmvalentine]

Heyy i reallyy love your writing. Could u please do an alternative inn scene (from acomaf) where rhysand asks feyre what she wants and feyre replies with 'you' instead of 'i want a distraction'?? I would very much love thatt! And also insert whatever u know u write best😉😏

OH INTERESTING okay, yeah I'll bite! Gonna just start by copy pasting a whole chunk because I quite liked the lead up but yeah let's get real divergent.

You

I murmured, "We should go to sleep."

The patter of the rain was the only sound for long moment before he said, "All right."

I crawled over the bed to the side tucked almost against the slanted ceiling and shimmied beneath the quilt. Cool, crisp sheets wrapped around me like an icy hand. But my shiver was from something else entirely as the mattress shifted, the blanket moved, and then the two candles beside the bed went out.

Darkness hit me at the same moment the warmth from his body did. It was an effort not to nudge toward it. Neither one of us moved, though.

I stared into the dark, listening to that icy rain, trying to steal the warmth from him.

"You're shivering so hard the bed is shaking," he said.

"My hair is wet," I said. It wasn't a lie.

Rhys was silent, then the mattress groaned, sinking directly behind me as his warmth poured over me. "No expectations," he said. "Just body heat." I scowled at the laughter in his voice.

But his broad hands slid under and over me: one flattening against my stomach and tugging me against the hard warmth of him, the other sliding under my ribs and arms to band around my chest, pressing his front into me. He tangled his legs with mine, and then a heavier, warmer darkness settled over us, smelling of citrus and the sea.

I lifted a hand toward that darkness, and met with a soft, silky material- his wing, cocooning and warming me. I traced my finger along it, and he shuddered, his arms tightening around me.

"Your finger... is very cold," he gritted out, the words hot on my neck.

I tried not to smile, even as I tilted my neck a bit more, hoping the heat of his breath might caress it again. I dragged my finger along his wing, the nail scraping gently against the smooth surface. Rhys tensed, his hand splaying across my stomach.

"You cruel, wicked thing," he purred, his nose grazing the exposed bit of my neck I'd arched beneath him. "Didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

"I never knew Illyrians were such sensitive babies," I said, sliding another finger down the inside of his wing.

Something hard pushed against my behind. Heat flooded me, and I went taut and loose all at once. I stroked his wing again, two fingers now, and he twitched against my backside in time with the caress.

The fingers he'd spread over my stomach began to make lazy, idle strokes. He swirled one around my navel, and I inched imperceptibly closer, grinding up against him, arching a bit more to give that other hand access to my breasts.

"Greedy," he murmured, his lips hovering over my neck. "First you terrorize me with your cold hands, now you want... want is it you want, Feyre?"

More, more, more, I almost begged him as his fingers traveled down the slope of my breasts, while his other hand continued its idle stroking along my stomach, my abdomen, slowly- so slowly- heading toward the low band of my pants and the building ache beneath it.

Rhysand's teeth scraped against my neck in a lazy caress. "What is it you want, Feyre?" He nipped at my earlobe.

What did I want?

I wanted his hands lower, and all over me. I wanted to not feel guilty anymore for Tamlin. I wanted us all to be okay and to not have to worry about a war coming our way.

"What do you want?" Rhys's words rumbled against my skin and his nails scratched lightly back and forth above my waistband.

And Cauldron damn it, at the end of the day what I really wanted was to just fuck all of it off and to just be with Rhys.

I had no idea how to say that though, without it all sounding so... trite. So human. And there was Rhys, waiting with his nose under my ear and the unliftable weight of his court on his shoulders.

What did I want?

In the end, all I could say was, "you." And it was as much a relief to admit that to myself as it was admitting it to him.

Rhys's hands stopped moving and for a second, I thought I'd said the wrong thing. He went so still- then I remembered his words.

I can't breathe when I look at you.

Let me touch you.

Because I was jealous, and pissed off...

She's mine.

And I knew better.

"You want me?" Rhys echoed, low and dangerous in the curve of my ear. He started moving again, coming up and over my body like another heavy layer of darkness.

"Yes," I whispered, and he nudged my knees apart so that he could settle between my legs.

"Is that so?" Rhys leaned his forearms either side of my face, and rolled his hips against mine so that the heavy length of him ground into me just where that ache needed the friction. I bit my lip against the things that did to me, and struggled to control my breath.

Not to be out done, I reached up and smoothed my hands across his back and up the arches of his wings. The shudder this produced had him rocking into me again, and now both of us were breathing a little hard.

"You'll be the death of me, Feyre darling," Rhys said, and then he kissed me and everything went more thoroughly dark than I had ever experienced in my life.

At the time I honestly could not have said whether this was Rhys's power flaring, or whether my mind just blanked out hard as soon as he kissed me. But what I knew is that I couldn't see anything and that just left me to feel everything a hundred times over.

The weight of his body pinning me down on the mattress.

The pull of his fingers tangling into mine just above my head.

The almost bruising pressure between my legs.

And the sure but honey-slow movement of his lips against mine, one lush press sliding into another.

Rhys groaned softly against my mouth, and I felt the sound all the way down my spine. The first touch of his tongue had me leaning up off the pillow, unable to reach for him because his hands still held mine against the bed. Rhys let go of one hand to smooth down the side of my thigh, sliding under my calf to hitch it to his hip. I threaded my freed hand through his hair, but Rhys chuckled and gently pinned it down again.

"Feyre," he purred. "Feyre, Feyre you have to tell me. What do you want?" His lips moved down the column of my throat and I struggled to answer him.

"I told you," I gasped. "I want you."

"You're going to have to be more specific," Rhys murmured against my collar bone.

"I want... everything." I lifted my hips for emphasis, and loved how his flexed in response. Rhys's mouth came down on mine again, this time hungrier and less gentle. He ground his erection into me and I moved back against him eagerly. He finally let my hands go and I twisted them around his neck, pulling him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, all sea spray and cointreau. One of Rhys's hands slid behind my head and into my hair, and the other snaked down between us and slipped between my legs.

My moan broke the kiss, and I could hear the grin in Rhysand's voice. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked me. He moved his fingers slowly, rubbing against my clit through my pants.

"More," I groaned, and with a flicker of magic my clothes vanished and his fingers were still against my bare pussy. My nails dug into his shoulders and I couldn't care enough to be embarrassed about how loud the next moan was.

"Mmm Feyre you're so wet for me," Rhys muttered. His fingers started moving again, at first just going back and forth over my clit but I moved my hips up to him.

"More," I ground out again, tilting so that his fingers were reaching further down. Rhys took the hint and pushed inside of me, swearing softly as I started to fuck myself on his hand. Rhys's other hand came up to squeeze my breast, his thumb stroking over my peaked nipple.

"Just like that?" he asked me.

"Gods yes," I struggled out.

"Still want more?" he said. I couldn't quite formulate a response because he had just added another finger. Rhys didn't wait. He ducked his head down, and while his fingers were still pumping inside me, he sucked my clit into his mouth.

"Fuck, Rhys!"

Rhysand did not respond. Just kept flicking his tongue, while my fist tightened in his hair and my climax built behind my eyelids.

"Rhys, I'm... Ohgodsfuck," I mumbled incoherently, my brain not connecting with my tongue.

What was that darling? Rhys asked without lifting his lips. I moaned. The intimacy of him speaking right into my mind was almost unbearable right now, and in the moment I had completely forgotten we could communicate like that.

Rhys... I sent back, but even non-verbally that's all I could muster.

Are you going to come? he asked me. Are you going to come on my tongue like a good girl?

Black talons scraped down the shields of my mind and they may as well have scratched straight down my belly.

Do it, he said. Come for me.

And cauldron help me, I did. I came so hard the scream hurt my throat, and then before I could fully regain consciousness Rhys was rising back up toward me and kissing me with pussy wet lips so I could taste myself on his tongue.

"Mmmm, you," Rhys said between kisses, "are absolutely, fucking delicious." I kissed him back and tried to catch my breath, but now his cock was twitching against my over-sensitive clit and my head was empty.

"What do you think?" he asked me, grinding slow circles with his hips. "Had enough pleasure for one night? Should I let you get some sleep?"

"No, please," I whimpered. "Need you so badly." My hands clawed at his chest, tried to reach down between us to touch him.

"You know, I have had a very long time to think about how and where I want you," Rhys said. The darkness lifted a little, and I could now dimly see Rhysand's face above mine. He was so beautiful I wanted to cry. "And I never thought it'd be in a tiny room where I can't even fuck you against the wall." I shivered at the suggestion.

"I don't care where we are," I breathed. "Just want you." Rhys moved his tongue the hollow of my throat.

"Do you?" he asked softly.

"Of course. I want you, I want all of you, I want..."

Rhys cut me off by kissing me, and I had to remind myself to breathe in.

"But do you know what all is?" Rhys asked hoarsely. And then I looked into his eyes and realised that there was real fear there. That for all his swagger, the reason he kept asking was because he still wasn't sure what I wanted from him. I put my hands on his face.

"Rhysand," I said. "I want every single, beautiful, terrible, wicked, brutal, lovely part of you. Okay?"

"Okay," Rhys whispered. But he just started at me for a minute.

"Don't you want me, too?"

And that got him moving again.

"Do I want you?" Rhys slid his hands under my shoulder blades and skimmed his nose across my jaw. His fingers tightened beneath me as his teeth tugged my ear lobe and his lips began working once more. "Feyre, gods. You have no idea how much I..." He cut himself off and groaned as his erection pressed insistently against me. "Feyre."

I pushed at the waistband of his trousers and he let me, kissing my lips as he removed the rest of his clothes. And then he was completely naked above me, and his bare cock on my pussy was more teasing than I could take.

"Rhys, please," I whimpered, my fingers finally touching the length of him. A snarl rumbled out from Rhys's chest, and then he was pressing into me.

Just a little. Just the head of him. But my body caught fire, and then started to tremble as the pressure built. He was big enough that he had to wait for me to adjust, and yet the need for him pulsed through me like a madness and my nails dug into his arms so hard I might have cut him.

I breathed through my nose as Rhys pulled out and came back, pushing a little further in this time with a hiss through his teeth.

"Fuck," he whipped out, half way in with the third pass. His forehead dropped to mine and I took his bottom lip between my teeth as he finally sank all the way in, eyes snapping open as we hit the hilt.

For a second, we just stared at each other. His eyes were black, and raw, and bottomless. Then he started to move and my mind slid.

In and out, painfully slow, and as my body got used to the size of him suddenly he was perfect. Suddenly something snapped into place and being with Rhys was like breathing air. I moved with him as he picked up his pace, and with every stroke I was being filled with something better than oxygen until I was brimming with it.

But somehow the more complete I felt, it appeared the more Rhys was coming undone. He buried his face in my neck, and his movements became more frenzied, more desperate. He gathered up my legs like he just needed to be deeper and couldn't get enough, and the sounds he made were like a starving man.

And all of it felt so fucking good. I went liquid under his touch and let him devour me. Rhys drew back a little to look at me, and when he made eye contact I almost came again. My eyes rolled back, but Rhys tugged at my chin.

"Don't ask me if I want you," he said when my eyes were back on his. "I will always, always want you." Rhys gripped my hip tightly as he fucked me faster. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything." His other hand cradled the back of my skull. "I want you more than I want my next breath." And indeed his breathing was labouring now, and his movements jerked hard into me. "I want you to be mine. Mine. Mine." His hips punctuated his words, slamming into me harder and harder each time until I was out of my body and screaming and coming and trying to tell him that I already was his.

When Rhys came he shuddered and shook so hard I heard his teeth click, and maybe my shields had slipped but I swear I felt his climax rip straight through my body like it might tear me in half.

I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to.

Of course as we lay there in that tiny room, in the dark, I never wanted to move again. I wondered, and could not bring myself to ask, if it was always like this for Rhys, if this was just how good he was in bed in general, if I was just overwhelmed because I didn't have much experience with fae.

"No," Rhys said quietly. "It's never like that for me, either."

So my shields were down.

But I didn't care at all, not in this state, not when Rhys carefully pulled out and rolled me onto my side so he could pull me into his arms again, not when he cleaned us up with a breath of magic and then started stroking gently over my flank while consciousness slipped from me.

"You want me?" Rhys whispered into my hair. "You've got me, Feyre darling. You've always had me."

And that was the very last thing I heard before sleep found me.

*****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27

[hoodieofholland]

Can u write a tickling war with best-friend!tom. Maybe Haz records them and post on insta so fans start to ship them ? ❤️

A/n: added some context first, got this idea and couldn't help but write it, hope you dont mind :)

Friends to lovers au - Actor!tom x best friend!reader

Warnings: none, just fluffy stuff

Masterlist

"Have anything planned for the evening, love?"

You hear Tom calling for you, but decide to keep reading the book on your hands nonetheless, not daring to avert your gaze to his face. Keeping a stoic face, you read through the lines of your book, though you're not really paying any attention to it. You just wanted to teach your best friend a lesson.

"Y/n? You here?" He chuckles nervously, trying to ease the thick air of tension he brought to himself. You were mad at Tom since last night, when he admitted he watched a movie with a girl, his date - a movie that both of you were excited to watch.

You shouldn't be so mad at it, you thought to yourself, but you were. Tom was your best friend, and you wanted all the best things for him, but that didn't mean putting any other girl above you. Knowing that he spent a precious time - which is pretty scarse for him because of his job - with another woman, watching your favorite movie together, drove you mad.

And, obviously, it did have something to do with your little crush on him, but you'd never - ever - admit this part.

"Y/n, darling, won't you talk to me?", he sighed, taking a seat on the couch besides you. You're taking most of its space, but he doesn't mind, touching your ankle ever so softly.

"I'm not your darling, for what I recall", you say in a cold and empty voice, flipping a page on your book.

Tom sighs heavily. He knows it's not true, but he feels hurt anyways. "Well, at least you're not giving me the silence treatment", he mumbles to himself, under his breathe. You look at him through your lashes, face still down.

"I would, if I wanted to", you flip through another page, "But came to the conclusion that it's not worth my time nor energy".

Tom grimaces, knowing you were joking, but not liking your tone. "Y/n, love, I've told you I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again".

His pleading voice touches your insides, and you squirm on your seat. Once you make the mistake of looking to his face, into those beautiful puppy brown eyes, you sigh in defeat, closing your book and putting it aside.

"It better not, Holland", you cross your arms. Tom wrinkles his nose.

"Don't call me that"

"Well, since you're in redemption, I think I might call you whatever the shit I want", you say, shrugging.

Tom opens his mouth in chock, but doesn't argument. "So, we're fine again?"

You pout, a fake deep in thoughts expression, before saying, "We'll see about that. For now, I rather be on my own company and maybe watch some of my favorite movies alone. Or maybe I should invite Haz"

Tom narrows his eyes. "Your favorite movies are my favorite movies", he says as a matter of fact.

"Yes, that's correct", you give him a victory smile and then get up from the sofa. "So, I'll be back in-"

Before you can finish your sentence or moves, a yelp scapes your throat by the surprise when Tom grabs your hips and pull you back to the sofa, your back landing on it not so softly.

"What the fu-"

"You're not gonna do it, y/n", Tom says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning both of your hands above your head. And though he was so talented on what he did for a living, you couldn't say he was playing the greatest role now, pretending to be stern and mad while hovering his body over yours. In fact, you could see his playful smirk on the corner of his thin lips. "'Cause now you're held against your will. And if you wanna watch those movies so bad, you're gonna take my company, you liking it or not".

"Unfair. You take another girl to watch what I wanted to, but I can't invite Haz, my incredibly friendly best friend?", you tease, wiggling your brows, but Tom's smile drops.

"He's not your best friend", Tom states, the grip on your wrists getting a little tighter.

"From now on, I decided that this is him".

Tom's face assumes an expression of doubt, just to fade to a smug one once again. "You're just jealous".

You arch your brows, incredulous. His breathing is so close to your face right now that you can sense your closeness, and if you're not imagining this yourself, it was very possible that the both of you touched each other's lips right now.

"Jealous of what?", you swallow thickly, eyes averting to his lips on them on. You can see his smirk growing immediately.

"Well, darling...", he emphasized, his accent thick enough to send shivers down your spine. "You're jealous of my date".

"Only on your imagination, Thomas", you split too quickly, which didn't make it any easier to swipe off that smugness on his face. If anything, it just made the whole situation worse.

"It's clear as water to me", he leans in, a wide smile plastered on his face, making his eyes wrinkle. The air seems to be stuck on your throat as he does so, and your heart scapes a beat when he gives you a sweet kiss on your cheek. "But you don't have to, sweetheart. You're the only girl I wanna around".

You know you shouldn't take this to the heart, but it's not up to you the tight feeling on your chest when you hear these words. You try yo convince yourself that he only says it as a friend, but something in his eyes, in the way he speaks those words with so much meaning slipping out of his lips, makes you imagine that wanted to share something else with you.

You sigh, feeling your walls break down. Tom was a charmer, you knew it already, but the way he spook with you, the sweetness of his words were beyond this part of his personality.

"You sound convincing", you try to say playfully, but you don't smile and stare directly into his eyes. He does the same.

"Because it's true", Tom tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding your eyes as he loses himself in his thoughts. "Yesterday, I realized that I was looking for something that I already have. Isn't it dumb?", he looks at you with a kind yet insecure smile. You give it back.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me". You heartbeat is so quick that you can bet he can listen to it, for the proximity. He's so pretty. You want to tell him that you feel like this, that you couldn't chase whatever you and Tom had, that this part of your life felt complete.

But the moment you part your lips to say so, Tom's smile widens and he releases your wrists just to take his hands to your belly. "You sure about that, love? Wanna take it back?", he says, a devilish smile playing on his face.

"Never"

"You asked for it, y/n", and then it all started. Tom started to tickle your belly, just on your weak point, where he knew you were more sensitive at. You quickly loose your air, gasping and laughing at the same time as he works his fingers on your skin.

"Oh, my God, Tom, stop!", you yell, rolling to the sides as you try to kick him away from you. Tom laughs' fill the air around you, and it's the most beautiful sound of your day.

"Make me, darling"

You fight with all your strength (and part of you believe he left his body loosen a bit, so you could have any chance to turn the game over). Finally, you're able to throw your body towards his and have him laying on the couch instead, your body over his as you tickle his neck, holding him im place by lacing his lower half with your legs.

"Not so funny, uh?" You tease, watching as his body squirms under you. You laugh along him, but it's not much time until he starts to tickle you back.

"What the hell you guys doing? Can hear you from across the-" Haz enters the living room, stopping in his tracks as soon as he catches the sight of his two friends in a tickling war. He chuckles silently, amused by the way you looked like a lovely couple already.

He knew about Tom's crush on you, and even though you'd never verbalize it, he had an idea about yours too. He sigh contentedly, a peaceful smile on his face, leaning against the door frame. The two of you don't even notice the moment he grabs his phone and point the camera at you, recording the scene.

Tom suddenly flip the two of you, propping himself on his elbows over you. "Say you're sorry", he demands out loud, still managing to tickle you.

"I- I have nothing- to be sorry abou-" you can't even speak an entire sentence, out of breath as you fight to win the battle. "You the one in redemption!"

Haz has to hold back his laughter. What two love birds.

He stops the filming when the two of you seem tired enough and are about to give up the tickling war. Making his way back discreetly, he opens his Instagram app and post the video as a Stories.

After the fight, reconciliation

Laughing to himself, he shakes his head and post.

Haz didn't know it by the time he posted the video, but by the end of that day, the internet would be overwhelmed with so many messages shipping you and Tom, who couldn't avoid the obvious fact that both of you were in love with each other anymore.

[inlustrissss]

Last Time

“The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country”

SPOILER WARNING!! CHAPTER 138

Edit: Thank you for 200 notes 😊😚

Levi x fem!Reader

TW! : slight angst but also mentioning of death, dw, got some nice and bittersweet moments as well

Summary: Levi and his fiancé are part of the survey corps and on a dangerous mission to stop Eren Jaeger in his plan with the rumble. On Marleyan ground, right before everything crumbles down, (Y/N) sees her life flash before her eyes

As Falco had caught on to the Kirschtein man, Connie looked devastated, the scene before the strong soldiers of Paradis unfolding into a complete disaster as Armin was about to detonate the bomb right around where Erens nape connected to it's bone-ish body.

"We need to get out quick!! Armin's gonna blow those bones to pieces!"

Having held down on to Piecks cart Titan body, (Y/N) loosened her grapple-hook, the gravity pulling her towards the ground as the hook returned to it's place at the ODM-Gear. At the same time the black haired woman Pieck emerged out of the Titan form, letting herself fall and hugging the (H/C) haired woman tightly.

Facing the ground, Falcos wings caught the women: "The armored Titan should be able to withstand the colossus Titan explosion—", seeing Jeans concern of their fellow old comrade, she tried to ease his worries as she sweated, "And most of all: Reiner's prepared for all of the consequences. To let this opportunity get away would be to let that go to waste!"

As suddenly Falcos Titan body increased its speed and flew up higher into the sky, (Y/N)s reflexes kicked in, making her close her eyes in fear. She felt an arm hug her waist tightly. Caught off guard, her (E/C) orbs opened frantically and her head swinging into the direction of the arms owner: it was her fiancé, the very man who had asked for her to marry him right in the middle of the war. Gifting the strongest soldier of humanity a subtle smile as a thank you, and maybe even slight reassurance for herself, she seemed to melt at his touch, getting lost in the rare colour of his cool blue eyes. Sighing, his tense shoulders relaxed for a second: "You okay?" His deep voice almost hoarse as it came out as a whisper, "Don't do anything reckless, stupid." Nodding speechlessly the woman noticed the bright light from behind her-- the bomb had been detonated and a loud, ear piercing bang sounded throughout the trampled battlefield of Marley. 

Wide eyes glancing towards the direction of Eren whereabouts, hands covering ears, the ring on (Y/N)s finger sparkled whenever the warm rays of sunlight reached the beautiful material. 

Was the battle finally over?

There was no time to think of the answer to that question, there wasn’t even any time to think of the question in the first place. It was a bittersweet moment, when Falco finally landed on the ground in front of those Marleyans and Eldians who had survived the ramble up until now. Leaving his titan body Falcos eyes searched the crowd for his parents. The little yet brave girl Gabi doing the same, running up to her mother and aunt, hugging them tightly just as Pieck did with her parents. Carefully jumping off of the bird like titan body, (Y/N) and Connie took a hold of Levis weakened body, making sure he stood on his feet before Connie adjusting his arm and placed it around his neck. The engaged woman never leaving her financés side, she held him by his torso, looking at the children that had been with them for a long time throughout the war, finally reuniting with their parents. The sight of Gabi smiling made her forget all of her worries. With Levi close to herself, nothing could beat them now.

“It’s not like I don’t have any regrets but-”, Connie looking around, seeing all the crying faces, “we did the right thing, didn’t we?” “We stopped the rumbling..”

“Wait!”, Gabi suddenly called out, running towards the cliff, almost falling off of it if it weren’t for (Y/N)s reflexes to catch the impulsive girl, “Watch it Gabi!”, the woman said with concern lacing her sweet voice, “But Reiner is still fighting.. and Armin?!”, looking back to the battlefield, they saw Reiner on the ground with Armin walking over to the cliff where everyone had been.

“They’re okay.”, said Jean as he patted Gabis should, but something had caught their attention. 

It was the centipede- like looking creature, which had taken control over Eren when he had transformed into the founding titan: “Hey, look over there!!”, yelled Connie while pointing at the thing, “It survived the explosion?” “What the fuck is that thing..”, mumbled Levi with a disgusted look, “Who knows, love.”, said (Y/N), “But all I know is that we can’t let this thing survive.”, with a determined look she glanced to her comrades, tightening her grip on to Levi. A bright light emitted behind the colossal titan,  the place where Erens corpse had been. “I didn’t think it’d take that much to kill you..”, said Jean as he was looking towards the bright light, seeing a titan form in the distance.

Long brown hair dancing with the wind, it was Eren.

“We can’t let Eren get to that thing down there!”, yelled (Y/N). Right when she was about to turn towards Levi and possibly get him ready for another fight, she noticed him groaning and his head hanging low, “Levi? What’s wrong?!”, brows furrowing, she tried to take a hold of his eyes with hers. “Just a headache.”, he whispered.

 A headache- come to think of it, Mikasa had been having headaches throughout the fight with Eren too..

Noticing how Gabi had crouched down with the others, (Y/N) decided to let her finacés headache slide and see what was going on. “What is this smoke?”, asked Gabi, “Smoke?”, inspecting further, (Y/N) saw how the creature had deflated, leaving only smoke behind, which soon covered a large space and devoured almost all of the mountain where they had been seeking their cover. “Is that thing finally dying?”, Mikasa groaned as he raised his brow suspiciously at the thing. But Connie had another answer: “No, it doesn’t smell like a dead titan”, his hand covering mouth and nose at the smell. His heart dropping and hands growing colder with each second, he was under shock: “Isn’t it the same they did in...”, he swallowed, “..In Ragako?”

Only hearing the confused voices speaking in the background, it was completely silent among the group. No one dared to mutter another word, it had all come to an end.

She wanted to cry but she couldn’t, her heart stopped to fear it only started to clench in worry, “Levi you have to get out of here”

It only rung louder and stronger, it was like his head was killing him slowly, praising him with a painful dead, it was like his instinct was punishing him for his failure. No it can’t be instinct, he truly did love her, he was no servant. Yet his DNA was telling otherwise.

“No don’t do this to me-”, the Ackerman males murmurs were cut off by his beloved soon to be wife, “Pieck, Mikasa! Get on Falco and hurry!”

“Please oh god don’t do this to me-”

“Levi, it’s okay.”, softly touching his cheek, being careful not to hurt his injury under the dirty and sweat stained bandages, she held his paled face. This very face she saw all those years ago, when he was captured by commander Erwin with his fellow friends Isabel and Farlan, oh how she has missed them all.  Recalling their first interaction when Hanji ran off to greet them at their first expedition, praising them on their skill with the ODM gear.

She glanced at his eyes. Those eyes she first truly started to take in the night he was at his worst, crying under the moonlit night, cursing himself how he could’ve been stronger. Those seemingly cold eyes that would always watch over squadleader (L/N)s doings. Those very eyes that would always gaze at her with love and tender were struck with fear and disbelief now. She knew he was too weak, she was scared he wouldn’t be able to handle another death. 

Levis nose stung, his eyes burning, this is it, he was close to crying. But as he heard her sweet voice, it was as if there was no war raging, “It’s okay my love”, she said with an almost inaudible whisper, forcing herself to not break down and cry herself. “You need to get out of here Levi”, her voice calming his penetrating headache, “You need to survive” Foreheads pressed together, (Y/N) swiftly let go off of his face to look at her right hand, “Here quick, take the ring honey-”, sliding off the engagement ring, she took Levis weak hand and pressed the warm yellow gold into his palm, she smiled softly, not noticing a single tear slip, “I’ll see you again Levi”

Pressing her warm lips tightly against his cold ones, she took a hold of his shoulders and hugged him. 

He hesitated, needing to take in what just happened but hugged her back just as tight, patting down her messy hair, just like hed always do to keep his beloved tidy. As they slowly parted she whispered “You need to hurry.”

Their moment seemed as if took hours.

Seeing Falco take off with the one she devoted herself to, (Y/N) finally broke down. Her life flashing by her eyes and even all the talks she had with Levi about her future, she played it all out just how it could’ve been.

Remembering how he had asked her to be his wife in the middle of war, because he was scared he wouldn’t survive, thinking of all the reassurence they both gave themselves until now.  Dreaming of a future together, knowing it would stay one.

She cried.

Hot tears streaming down her flushed cheecks, she wasn’t even able to keep up with the flow of her tears anymore, (Y/N) just gave up on trying to dry them. The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country.

“So this is how it ends, huh?”, (Y/N) stopped.

It was Jean who was pulling her close towards himself, Connie on his other side, hugging the taller male as well. “Guess so..”, said Connie. Turning towards Jean with an indifferent expression he scoffed, “Remember the night of the entrance ceremony?”, Jean nodded, “This is your fault we’re here right now.”

At their bickering right before the end made, (Y/N) had to laugh, “Stop it you guys, now’s not the time” Connie groaned, “Come on, when’s ever the time..”, but Jean apologized, “I’m sorry Squadleader”

Growing only sadder at the title, (Y/N) sighed: “Drop the act Jean, we’re only human after all.”

“Right.. (Y/N)”

She wished she could look into Levis warm eyes again.

She longed to see, she would do everything,

just to see him one last time

 Closing her eyes, she let the sunrays hit her skin, making her look angelic with the golden glow. Will it hurt? Will it be quick? Her mind growing ever so slight when the worries ceased, she didn’t want those things to be the last thing, worry should not consume ones life.

So when the time finally came, she only thought of Levi Achermann, the man she had loved the most in her life.

Seeing his beautiful steel gray eyes in her mind set her at ease.  So she rememniced his lovely touch for one last time.

[theblackpearls]

For a Moment in Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black Reader

Warning: Smut. Porn without plot. Angst. Raw (please use condoms in real life, guys! Safe sex is smart sex!) Oral Sex (women receiving) Mentions of Racism (its the 1940's y'all. No trauma I promise.)

A/N: After seeing FATWS you can't tell me Bucky wouldn't have dated a black woman if it wasn't illegal. I still think he had a girl on the side in Winter Solider and she was black. That's my comfort Canon!

It’s in the middle of the night that you hear a knock on your door. You’ve just finished getting out the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. Normally, you’d open your front door with clothes but for this person, it didn’t matter.

Opening the front door, you’re met with that million dollar smile.

“You ready for me, Honey?” Bucky says leaning in to kiss you.

You want to but you shift your eyes to the side, looking at the women who clearly scoff at this scene. You’ve been through it a thousand times, the stares you get when Bucky ventures to your part of the neighborhood. Bucky senses your frustration but he kisses your forehead anyway, hoping to bring back that smile. He succeeds, a hint of a smile appearing on your face.

“Come on.” Bucky says, pushing your hips backwards, until you’re both inside your apartment.

Bucky closes the door behind you. You step on the stairs but are quickly pulled back, your back pressing against Bucky’s broad chest. The cold medals of his uniform tingle against your skin.

“It’s just us, Baby.” Bucky says, nuzzling his nose into the crook on your neck.

“I can’t wait to leave this place.” You sigh, leaning back against him and swaying in his arms.

“Don’t do that, Sugar.” Bucky kisses your shoulder, his pink lips running over your brown skin. “Let’s not ruin tonight, it’s our last one and I intend for those nieghbors to know my fucking name.”

“Whatever,” You say, elbowing Bucky and moving out of his hands.

“What?” Bucky says shrugging, “Come here, Baby.”

You back away from Bucky as he walks towards you. As much as you want to be in his arms, you’re still wet from the shower and would like to get dressed before.

“Bucky, wait-”

“Nope, I sai-”

You sprint up the stairs only to hear Bucky’s boot beating against the wooden stairs. You’ve almost made it but Bucky has you locked in his arms. Bucky takes you into the room and pins you against the wall, his knee wedged between your legs.

“You really are testing me, Honey.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, tapping his cheek.

“Mhmm.” Bucky says, biting his bottom lip.

Bucky eyes, trail down your body, starting at your breast that are just slightly showing. Bucky leans in, placing a kiss on the tops of each.

“Bucky…”

“I can't wait to fucking leave this place.” Bucky says, his hands trailing up your towel while his lips moved up, leaving warm kisses on your neck. “Take you to every place in Europe when this shit is over.”

“It’s gonna be a while, James.” You mumble, your breath staggered as he nibbles on your ear.

“Don’t do that.” Bucky hisses, his hands digging into your thighs. “Don’t speak like we’re running out of time.”

It was hard to not think of the time that you and Bucky had. You know you’d wake up in the morning and Bucky would be gone, across the world fighting for freedom. Neither of you knew how long this war would last but it was keeping you both apart. It was tough because your relationship in America was illegal and it seemed that only war could offer you guys the freedom, the freedom to pack up and move to Europe where you both could be open about your love.

“Sorry.” You whimper, Bucky spread your legs and his hips colliding with yours, his erection.

“Don’t apologize.” Bucky says, his lips laying kisses on your cheek until he moves to your jaw and then stops right over your lips. “I just want to make love to you, the way you deserve.”

Bucky cups your cheek, his thumb lighting grazing your skin back and forth. This love and compassion he shows you is hidden and safe within these four walls.

Bucky says nothing as he lifts you up, your legs instantly locking around his hips. You take note of the way Bucky moves around your room in the darkness, knowing exactly where your bed is, how far the nightside table is so he doesn’t bump into it.

Bucky lays you gently on the bed, you back against the soft sheets. Your legs fall to the side and Bucky is between the, looking down at you. The moonlight breaks through the window, illuminating your mahogany skin, showing the little droplets of water that still rest on your legs and breast. Bucky reaches for the white towel, removing it slowly, unwrapping you like his own personal gift. Bucky looks at you with longing and lust, his blue eyes illuminating as he bites his lip, wanting to devour every part of you.

Bucky bends down, kissing right above your sex. You wish he’d go lower but he actually moves up, kissing your stomach and looking at you in your eyes. Bucky then trails up your body, kissing your abdomen, to the valley between your breast, around your neck and up to your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, Babygirl.” Bucky whispers in your ear. “I’m going to remember every inch of you.”

You nod and close your eyes, not wanting to let the tears fall from your eyes and ruin this moment. Yet they fall anyway but Bucky’s pink lips are there to kiss your tears away. He catches every one until he kisses your lips, your tongues sharing the saltery tears between the two.

Bucky breaks the kiss and lefts up. He takes off his shirt, letting it fall to the side of the bed. It’s not long before Bucky is leaning over you, resting on his elbows.

There is no need for talking, you both know exactly how this will end. Bucky kisses you once more, one of his hands slides down the length of your body to grab your leg, wrapping it around him. Your hands are busy as well, trailing down his body, putting every muscle and cut into memory. Your hands reach the button of his pants and they’re quickly undone.

You slip your hand into his pants, touching Bucky’s length and he moans, breaking your intense kiss. His eyes never leave yours as your hand travels down further, stroking his cock. You want to have sex with Bucky of course, but you also want him to remember this. Remember how you stared him down as you touched his cock, watching him crumble on top of you.

You finally reach the tip, your thump running over his slit and catching the pre-cum. Bucky's hip thrust but his eyes are still open, watching you.

“Baby…”Bucky moans, his breaths becoming shallow and strained.

You want Bucky to come, to release and give you every piece of him. You pick up the pace, your hand gently squeezing his member, twisting your wrist. You feel Bucky harden in your hand, which only makes you move your hand faster. Bucky's arms shake, his head falling down to your neck, his warm breath dancing on your skin.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper in his ear, your hand becoming slick with his cum. “You can let go.”

Bucky moves his hips, thrusting into your hand, finding a manageable rhythm for him to get off without slipping out of your hand. He curses in your ear, his hands grabbing your wrist and tightening. It’s not long before Bucky releases in your hand, his moans falling into your neck as his mouth connects. Bucky collapses, his weight pressing against your and warming not only your body but your heart. You’re going to miss this, every single park of Bucky. Form his brown hair that might have too much gel to the curling of his toes as he releases inside you.

Bucky’s grip losses on your wrist and you take the time to wrap your arms around his neck.Your hands play in his hard and Bucky kisses a line from your collar bone to your ear.

“I’m gonna fucking marry you.” Bucky mumbles in your ear.

“I know.” You say, a smile carving its way onto your face.

Bucky gets up, takes off his pants and underwear, his come running down his legs. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to place himself between your legs, your sexes just inches apart as Bucky leans over you. Bucky kisses your forehead for a moment, not daring to move. Your left leg is on the bed while he has hand around your right leg, lifting it up, ready to end you, but he takes his time.

Bucky then looks down, asking for permission through both of you know that you need this. Bucky is slow with his entrance, kissing your softly and his hands making sure to massage your thigh.

“Bucky…” You mian as you feel his tip penetrate you.

“That’s it, Sugar.” Bucky groans, slowly sliding in further.

You lift your hips, wanting Bucky to fall deeper into you, find that spot and shatter every piece of you.

Your arms moved to wrap around Bucky’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. You moan, Bucky now fully encased in your wet pussy. It feels so right to be with Bcuky like this, connected with no barriers, oceans or laws to separate you.

Bucky doesn't move yet, his kisses are gently against your lips, something sacred between the two of you. His hands move, one falling to your cheek, keeping your head raised and kissing him while the other laces with your hand above your head and pressed into the mattress.

It is now that Bucky moves slowly, his hips grinding against yours. You moan into the kiss and Bucky devours every single one. You move your hips in sync with his, his cock growing within your warmth.

“Bucky…” You moan breathlessly.

“It’s just us, Baby.” Bucky reminds you. “Be as loud as you want.”

You don’t hold yourself back, not with Bucky and not this time. Bucky’s hand slides from your face to your leg, lifting it up and thrusting deeper inside you. You arch your back, closing your eyes and mouth falling open. Sweat trickles down your body and your mind goes blank. All you can think about it how good Bucky feels inside of you, how you want think to release inside of you, mark you as his and never fucking let you go!

“Bucky!” You shout.

“Fuck.” Bucky moans, his nails digging into your hands and Bucky arching his hips, pounding into you.

The bed creaks as you try to catch your breath but Bucky steals it away with a kiss. Your mouths are slowly against one another, sharing so much and saying nothing. Your stomach abdomen tightens and your toes curl, you know it’s coming, the release that only Bucky can give you.

“Come for me, babygirl.”

And you do, relasign everything you have to give to Bucky. Bucky releases inside of you, his come filling your insidious, sticking to them and burying himself in places no one would dare look. Bucky rolls over and rests next to you, pulling you into his chest.

“It won’t always be like this.” bucky says, drawing circles right above your hip. “As soon as I come back, we’ll leave.”

“I know, Bucky.” You kiss his cheek. “It’s hard to say goodbye though.”

“Then don’t.” Bucky holds you closer. “Don’t say goodbye just wait for me to return and we’ll continue, it will be like I never left.”

“Mhmm.” You mumble fighting sleep.

You know once you fall asleep, bucky will be gone. It was something you got used to with every deployment. Though you had faith in Bucky, that he would return, there was still fear in your heart. But you could not let that fear overrun you, Bucky there would be no place for Bucky if you did that. So, you buried your fears where only you could find them and only visited them when necessary.

“Go to sleep.” Bucky says.

You want to reply to him, to tell him that you don’t want to wake and the bed be cold. But you know that it won’t comfort either of you so, you say nothing and close your eyes

Six months have passed and Bucky hasn’t sent you any letters. You're worried because your last letter was important.  You were scared that Bucky had gotten the letter and didn’t send one back, an end to your relationship. Though you had faith in bucky, you guys never talked about this issue popping up.

Children.

There wasn’t an exact what to prevent you from getting pregnant. To be honest, you were shocked that it didn’t happen sooner with how many times Bucky and you were reckless. But it seemed that all the recklessness paid off say you touched your stomach.

The neighbors knew exactly whose child it was and they weren’t too happy. You’d walk around town and they'd curse your name and it never bothered you until now. Maybe it was your hormones and not hearing from Bucky that made you so emotional. But couldn’t think about that now, not when someone else was depending on you to be strong.  You just needed to know that Bucky also cared for you and didn’t abandon you. You hear a knock on the front door and wobble towards it. Your heart races, hoping that it’s Bucky.

However you open the door and it’s Steve instead. He’s bigger this time and a lot taller. You’d seen him once before and he never looked this big or good for that matter. But you ignore your hormones once again and smile at Steve though he doesn’t smile back.

“Steve.” You say. “Where is Bucky?”

[hansoulo]

how will I know; walk slow

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader (gender neutral, no Y/N)

Word Count: a humble 1.4k

Warnings: cursing, light angst, a kiss (sorta), spoilers for chapter 15 of the mandalorian

Gif Credit: (x) by @/bestintheparsec

A/N: hello bros and hoes it is me and i am back with another oneshot this time set right after chapter 15 with a title from this song by james blake

You bounded down the hangar ladder and stood toe-to-toe, heart stuck in your mouth and lodging up in your tonsils until the word came out thick and without eloquence. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry,” the Mandalorian offered. He didn’t really have anything to be sorry for. Sometimes the guy was just polite to a fault.

“It’s alright.” The words left your chest hushed, conscious of the footsteps up and around you that echoed tinny on the walls of Slave 1. Soft assurances. Gentle platitudes. “You’re here now, yeah?”

Mayfeld was “dead” doing Maker knows what. Fennec and Cara were both off in the ship somewhere, probably polishing blasters and trading war secrets with each other as intimidating Outer Rim women tended to do. That or in the communications monitor room below deck, doing far more risque things. Boba was piloting and making sure none of you died. And the Mandalorian was here. Standing in the cold metal cargo hold. In front of you.

His chest, in beskar now, not that shoddy Imperial shit, shook with a sigh. “Yeah,” the helmet rasped. It sounded like he was speaking more to himself. “Yeah.”

Why do you do that?

   Do what?

You’re very… monosyllabic. It’s unsettling.

   Unsettling.

You know you’re just continuing to prove my point, right?

   Mhm.

Maker, you’re infuriating.

   Yes, I am.

Hey that was three words! Progress.

Your throat tightened with a swallow when you realized you still stood only inches apart from him. Feet shuffled backwards in the small hangar until he was left at a larger, more friend-appropriate distance. “That’s good. I’m… I’m glad.”

The air in the ship was thick, with relief and with another heavy thing. Regret, maybe? But what did he have to regret?

“Mando,” you called out as he turned to step up the ladder. Names were sacred things. You didn’t want to use his here. To dirty it by sharing. “Hey,” your hand met the cold metal of his pauldron, urging him to face you again. He was still. Always so still. “Did something happen?”

   I’m fine.

You’re hurt.

   It’s nothing serious.

Let me help. 

   I’ll take care of it.

Or let the kid help. Somebody.

   I said I’ll take care of it.

Let me take care of you. Please. 

His words came almost too quick. He was like that when he tried to convince you of things. “No. No, we… we got the coordinates. Everything went-”

“According to plan,” you finished for him, though your brows were still furrowed.

What’s the plan?

   We get the kid back.

So… what you’re saying is that there is no plan.

   There is a plan.

What’re you gonna do?

   Whatever it takes.

You’re so dramatic.

“Mayfeld wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened before he fucked off, though, which is weird because usually he never shuts up and I just...” you sighed, wiping a hand across your face and letting it drop unceremoniously beside your hip. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look,” and here your voice paused, waiting for the words to fill themselves in. “Rattled.”

You look like shit.

   Thanks.

Welcome. You good?

   You just said I look like shit.

Well yeah, but I’m trying to redeem myself. Throw me a bone.

   Then yeah, I’m good.

You’re a horrible liar.

   Hey, you asked.

Yeah, I guess so. Take it easy for a bit? Can’t have you falling asleep piloting.

   Glad to know your only concern is for your transportation.

Don’t forget the paycheck.

   That too.

Seriously, though. Go get some sleep. I’ll be here.

There was a pregnant pause, only filled in by your quiet expectance and the sounds of beskar shifting on fabric. He moved his weight from one foot to the other. Looked down, then up.

And then, before you could go to actually leave, not wanting to pry a thing open that the man wanted to keep shut and done with having to reach the words out of his mouth, you were picked up and turned around. Like a sack of ration flour. 

In literally any other circumstance this would’ve made you seethe but Din’s hands, although surprising, weren’t unwelcome. The furthest thing from it, actually.

There were two warm palms on your sides and your feet stumbled on top of each other until they both left the floor again, suspended above the metal sheeting as you were lifted up and crushingly close to a man that smelled like blood and sweat and someone else’s clothes but who still held you until your ribs cried out for breathing. 

You were set down after a moment, but not let go. Silent words seemed to fracture in the way his fingers dug into the skin of your hip, almost bruising in their insistence. He couldn’t tell you what happened, but something obviously did. Something ugly and beating loud in the two-inch gap between your chests and really, really bad.

There were only about two things in the galaxy that he was afraid of. Losing the kid was one of them. Breaking his Creed was the other.

So what’s with the helmet?

   What about it?

You can never take it off?

   No.

Like, never? In front of anyone?

   Not unless it’s family.

And what happens if you do? Take it off in front of someone else, I mean.

   You can’t ever put it back on.

Oh, right. Sorry.

   It’s okay.

No, it’s not. I- I shouldn’t have asked. I dunno. It just seems…

   Bad. 

No, not bad! Not if it’s something you believe. Just… different. 

And suddenly you knew why he was holding you the way he was.

The words were hitched, almost keening as your arms wound around his neck, over the thick fabric of his cape until his hands reached around the lower slope of your back to steady your ground. You could feel the indentations of his metal vambraces against your skin. You couldn’t have cared less about it. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. He only let out a breath, the sound so rattled and tremulous you could almost taste the salt dew gathering in his eyes. Eyes that someone else saw.

The muscles of his arms grew firmer around you still and your body sagged, heavy in its aching realizations. “I’m so sorry,” you repeated.

To someone else more ambitious this would probably be a good time to do… a gesture. Of the sentimental variety. Neither of you lacked courage in the traditional definition, but this kind of stuff was messy. Uncharted. 

“Din,” you whispered. His helmet shot up at the monosyllable, nearly knocking you in the chin and you stumbled backwards, shaking off his apologies. So the charting of said uncharted stuff was going swell. “I,” you began, your eyes shifting around the walls and floor instead of meeting his visor. “I care about you. A lot. I hope you know that.”

There was a loud whirring overhead when the ship lurched forward, righting itself with an awkward turn and giving you a good excuse as to why you suddenly felt nauseous. Maybe you overstepped or he didn’t hear you because he hit his head? Holy shit, did he get a concussion? Was that why he was-

“I know.”

Oh.

So no concussion.

You only realized you’d been biting the bottom edge of your lip when a gloved thumb came up towards it, pressing against the soft flesh and pulling it gently out from between your teeth. A breath choked in the bottom of both your lungs. And you waited.

You couldn’t kiss him.

At least, not now. Not here. Not yet.

You were both thinking about it.

So you did something decidedly ambitious. You leaned forward and pressed your mouth to the crest of his helmet.

It wasn’t a kiss, not really. But he still tilted his helmet up to meet it with two broad hands and you still left a smudge of mouthmark where your lips were damp and tender and so somehow this imitation kiss, this substitute in between a moment that was over and a moment that was coming, was real. 

Your bounty hunter echoed his reciprocation after you’d turned away, the rungs of the ship ladder icy in your palms. You always did like to one-up each other.

“I love you.”

[jamie-leah]

War of Wolves (19)

Season 1

Episode 19 - The Search Begins

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2530

Warnings: Violence, injuries, manhandling, medical talk, swearing, POV Changes

A/N: Here's another! Late as usual I know, but my life has taken an unexpected turn. However, lets hope these updates will not be more regular. There will be POV changes and I know Bucky's part is third person but I call it Bucky's POV because it's easier for everyone to follow! Enjoy Lovelies! Feedback is always encouraged!

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist Series Masterist Oneshot Masterlist

BUCKY’S POV

There’s a pounding in his head that hasn’t stopped since the crash. As his senses start to come back Bucky notices, he’s lying on concrete, the cold seeping into his bones.

About the same time, he realises he’s on the floor he remembers what happened. Bucky shoots up from the floor, causing dizziness but he didn’t care. The only thought he had was you.

As Bucky looks around, he sees the chair you were in empty and the room also empty. Morning had started to break, and he curses himself for losing precious hours.

As Bucky starts to make his way out of the building his body aches as his head keeps pounding in time with his heart.

He finally finds an exit and walks until he comes to a main road. Bucky looks around and breathes a sigh of relief that he knows where he is. With no phone or anything to communicate with anyone, Bucky walks.

He follows the main road as his thoughts race. He can’t help picturing you with Isaac and it makes him sick. The worry for you and the anger at himself and Isaac is almost enough to bring him to his knees, but he said he would find you and he would. He would die before he ever stopped looking.

Bucky felt like he had been walking forever but it was probably only about twenty-five minutes. The older building coming into view. He picks up the pace until he comes to the gates.

Bucky walks right in catching the eye of two men. They look at each other alarmed by the way he looks but Bucky simply says, “go get him”.

The one runs off as the other stays by the gate. Bucky keeps walking afraid that if he stops, he won’t be able to get back up.

As Bucky reaches the door Darren steps out looking concerned. Bucky clenches his jaw before saying, “I need your help”.

YOUR POV

You’re cold. You smell damp. You hear murmuring.

You shift and groan as your eyes protest being opened. You feel what must be springs digging into your back as you make sense of what you’re seeing.

Its quite a dark room, the ceiling old brick and as you follow it the walls are brick too. You sit up fast and groan. You notice you’re sitting on a mattress and metal frame.

You stand up and gasp as your bare feet touch stone. When you get over the shock you notice metal bars covering an archway, the only exit to this room.

It took you a while to comprehend what you were seeing but you finally realised that you were in a dungeon. You’re incredibly confused as voices get louder.

You walk closer to the bars, your feet becoming numb due to the cold until two figures step into view. It doesn’t take you long to see that its Harry and Isaac.

You look at the both of them, “where the hell am I?”.

Harry’s British accent comes out loud in the small space, “This is an estate of mine. I had a lot of extra room here, so I let Isaac renovate a few of his labs here”.

You screw up your face, “am I in a dungeon?”.

Harry chuckles, “my estate is essentially a castle, this place has many hidden places, this small dungeon being one”.

Isaac speaks next, watching you carefully, “no one knows you’re here. It’s just me, Harry and one of my men. The rest of the men don’t know you’re here, so Bucky definitely doesn’t know you’re here. Don’t cause me any trouble”.

You hold his gaze lifting your chin, “he’ll find me”.

Isaac smirks, “no. He won’t”. That’s when he pushes some type of clothing through the bars, “wear that. I have some initial tests I want to run as soon as possible. If you don’t have it on by the time my man comes to get you, he’ll put it on you himself”.

Without another word from either of them they leave. You pick up the clothing and see that it’s a hospital gown.

Its freezing in the room due to the stone so you don’t really want to put it on, but you don’t want to risk anyone else putting it on for you. You strip and quickly put the gown on. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait.

BUCKY’S POV

Darren didn’t even blink when he agreed to help in any way he could. The first thing that Bucky did was call Steve.

“Hello?”, Steve’s voice sounded tired, strained.

Bucky was just relieved to hear his voice, “Steve, its Bucky-“.

Steve interrupts him, “Bucky?! Where are you?! Are you hurt? I saw the car-“.

Bucky just manages to get out, “Steve, he took her”.

There was a heavy silence for a few moments, “where are you?”.

Bucky’s head was still hurting, “Darren’s”.

“Me and Sam will be there as soon as we can”, Steve waits a second before hanging up.

Darren comes back with a woman with a full looking rack. Bucky just sits there on Darren expensive looking sofa.

She comes over without a word and starts attending to the cut on Bucky’s head. Darren sits opposite Bucky and waits for the woman to finish. Before she leaves, she hands Bucky some tablets and water.

As Bucky takes them, Darren asks, “What happened Buck?”.

Bucky stares into space picturing the events as he tells Darren, “Isaac ambushed me and Y/N. I didn’t even see it coming. Rammed straight into us. I held em’ off as much as I could but there were too many of them and Y/N refused to run”.

Darren’s eyebrows raise, “brave woman”.

Bucky’s mouth twitches despite the circumstances, “stubborn woman…He took us to a warehouse about half hour from here. He was gonna kill me, but Y/N convinced him not to. He knocked me out and took her”.

Darren’s jaw clenched, “what do you need from me?”.

YOUR POV

It took about twenty minutes for you to hear footsteps and for another figure to come up to the bars. You can’t make much out other than he’s blonde and tall.

He opens the bar door and his gruff voice comes out, “move”.

“Where’s my please?”, you don’t know if its you being brave, stubborn, or stupid, but the comment comes out just the same.

The guy comes marching in and grabs your arm. He yanks so hard that your cry echoes in the room and you’re afraid he’ll rip it out of the socket.

You fight against him, fear of what Isaac has in store finally kicking in. But it doesn’t matter, you can’t get a grip with your bare feet and your punches bounce off him.

He leads you down narrow corridors and you lose track until he stops abruptly at a wooden door. He opens it one handed and drags you in.

Its like you stepped into a different reality. The room was white, and the floor was tiled. It was like you had entered a hospital. It made the knot in your stomach tighten painfully.

Isaac was sitting at a desk in a white coat. Your eyes slide from him to the glass window in front of him that looked into a room with an MRI machine.

Isaac talks with his back still to you, “put her on the table”.

The man starts backing you up, but you keep resisting. You manage to clip the guy in the face, his grip loosening enough to break free for only a second. Before you can get very far, he pulls you by your hair and throws you into the table.

Your stomach collides with the edge of the table and knocks the wind right out of your lungs. You double over and end up falling to the floor trying to suck in air.

Isaac doesn’t even care. He just walks over calmly as you struggle to breathe and injects something into your arm. You don’t remember anything after that.

BUCKY’S POV

The pounding in his head hadn’t stopped. The dizziness was still there, but Bucky couldn’t keep still. He was pacing in front of Darren worrying about you and wondering how he was going to find you.

There was a knock on the door that made Bucky turn around in his pacing. One of Darren’s workers had guided Steve and Sam to the room.

Steve took big strides over to Bucky, pulling him into a hug, closely followed by Sam. When Sam steps back he says, “we’re gonna get her back”.

Steve nods before asking, “what happened?”.

So, Bucky tells them everything. Once Bucky finishes Steve asks, “you got people on the inside, right? You planted people in Isaac’s organisation a while ago?”.

Bucky nods, “I’ll reach out to them, ask if they’ve seen her or heard anything about where he’s got her. There were also cameras at the warehouse he took us to, pull the footage and see if it tells us something”.

Sam holds his hand up, “we’ll do all of that and whatever else you need us to do, but we need to take you back and get you some medical attention”.

Bucky starts to shake his head, but Steve talks next, “Sam’s right. You can reach out to your informants in the car on the way back home, but you need to get your head checked out. You’re no good to Y/N if you’re injured”.

Bucky nods frustrated with how right they were and how much time its going to waste, “okay, lets get moving then”.

Bucky starts moving towards the door and everyone follows. Steve and Sam get in the car and Bucky follows. Before he closes the door, Darren says, “I’ve got a few people I can reach out to. I’ll let you know if I hear anything”.

Bucky nods, grateful, before slamming the door. Sam hands him a phone to start making calls as Steve speeds back home.

YOUR POV

It was like you were repeating history. You wake up groggy again and you shift as springs dig into your back.

You take in your cell and start to get up before the world tilts causing you to crash back onto the bed. That’s when Isaac speaks, making your heart race, “you’re going to feel dizzy and you’ll probably throw up soon. I need you to rest because I’ll need to take a few more tests in a few hours”.

You manage to murmur, “fuck you”.

Isaac chuckles, “the harder you fight the more I’m going to enjoy breaking your spirit. There’s a bucket in the corner of the room for when you throw up”.

You listen to his footsteps walking away, loud to the throbbing of your head. You try focusing on your breathing, but it wasn’t long before you felt saliva flood your mouth and your stomach clench.

You stumble out of bed and towards the corner. You nearly fall two times before making it to the bucket and heaving. Not much comes out as you stay hunched over the bucket for about half an hour just heaving.

By the time it stops your body is shaking and you have to crawl back over to the bed. You get back on and curl in on yourself, falling asleep to forget.

BUCKY’S POV

By the time they get back to the house Bucky has got in touch with everyone that he can think of, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He gets out the car more frustrated than ever and once inside he makes a beeline for the office. That is until Steve blocks his path, “I don’t think so. Med wing. Now”.

Bucky doesn’t fight as Steve escorts him towards the medical wing. He asks softly, “how is Peggy doing? I can’t believe I missed everything”.

Steve smiles, “she’s doing great. She’s at the safe house with the kids thinking of a name for our boy as we speak”.

Bucky nods, lost in thoughts, “good, that’s good”.

Steve looks over concerned, “Buck…”.

Bucky reaches for the med wing doors, “go and get the footage from the warehouse and get in contact with anyone I missed in the car while I get my head sorted”. Bucky didn’t give Steve a chance to say or ask whatever he was going to say as he lets the doors close.

YOUR POV

You wake to the noise of the barred door scrapping against the stone floor. You don’t move from your foetal position on the bed.

It’s the blonde guy again, “move”.

Your body still feels weak and shaky. When your voice comes out you don’t recognise it, “go fuck yourself”.

You hear his heavy steps approaching and you brace yourself. Again, he yanks your arm and pulls you off the bed. You don’t expect it and can’t catch yourself in time before your hip and knee collide with the stone floor.

You yelp as pain radiates along your leg. As you try breathing through the pain, he takes advantage and manages to carry you most of the way without much fight from you.

He drops you on the table in the room and Isaac is waiting with another syringe. He wastes no time in using it as you feel the sting in your arm.

They both step back and you start to get off the table, but your limbs don’t listen. You try moving your legs, but you go nowhere. You try moving your arms but still you’re staring at the white ceiling.

Panic starts clawing in your chest as your eyes dart around the room as much as they can. You can feel the cool table underneath you but despite all your strength you can’t even make your fingers twitch.

You even go to ask Isaac what he did but your mouth wouldn’t open. Fear was gripping your racing heart as you hear your blood in your ears like the sea raging on the shore.

Isaac comes into view with a smile, “try not to panic, it wouldn’t do me any favours if you died. I needed to do an MRI with you awake, but I imagined you wouldn’t lay still for me, so I thought I’d make you”.

He nods to the blonde guy and he picks you up. He takes you into the next room and places you on the machine.

During the entire process you try to move, but nothing worked. The loss of control and feeling of helplessness made breathing difficult.

You decided to just close your eyes and picture Bucky. You picture him healthy and in one of his black suits. You try and imagine what he would say to you now. He’d probably cup your face and make your eyes look at his and say, “you’re strong, smart, and stubborn. I know you can do this until I get there, you just need to breathe Doll. Just breathe for me. I will find you”.

It was only when you opened your eyes that you realised a tear had escaped down the side of your cheek and into your hair.

WoW Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @crazyblonde124 @summerwelsh @scuzmunkie @loving-life-my-way @pequenaguaxinim @paranoid-borderline-insane @lilsonbucky @somanyfandomsblog @broco8 @inquisitor-selvala @mad-red @k-n-e @rinkashirikitateku @duhh-danielly @boundtomyfate @kalesrebellion @booktease21 @whatinthyworld @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @asapkyndall @yaszx @amoredashley @aveatquevale- @putinovertime @melimelbean @valsworldofcreativity @lokilokilokilokilokilokilo-blog1 @vesper852 @littlenerdgirl16

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Four

(Gif's not my own.) 

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

-It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

-This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

-English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

-Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

-Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

-Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Four starts after the cut. (Chapter Three can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Four

Chapter warnings: PTSD, angst (or as much angst as I’ll ever write), couple’s fight, outdated expectations of marriage (is that even a warning?), mentions of masturbation.

This chapter is a little different from the previous ones and it’s stitched together weirdly. Also, there’s no smut (which is unusual for me!), but Chapter 5 will be more humorous and lighthearted.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“When’s your next leave?” Harper asked from behind the wheel, knowing better than to take his eyes off the sand road. He had been transferred to the Special Forces after the whole water pumping station incident, with Sy’s approval.

They were at the very back of the convoy, like always. It was the only way Sy was able to keep all the Humvees in sight and look out for everyone.

“Not sure I’m gonna be seeing home before July.” Sy replied, blue eyes scrunched up as he tried making something, anything out in the darkness surrounding them. Doing this scouting mission at night hadn’t been his idea, but the order had come from higher up and it was when the guards were at their lowest.

Harper smiled, a short huff escaping his chest. “Ah yes! What are you going do once you’re home for good?” The soldier asked, the tiniest hint of teasing in his voice. “Give your wife a small army of Texan babies?”

Sy scoffed, his chest shaking beneath the heavy protective vest. “Eyes on the road, soldier.”

“Yes, captain.” Harper chuckled even as he obeyed the command.

The rest of the drive went by in silence. The whole point of doing it at night was to be unseen and unheard. Confirm it was an armory so that an airstrike could later destroy it. Quick and easy.

Sy absentmindedly rubbed his finger through the thick glove, trying to feel the wedding band beneath. He never took the thing off, but it still somehow eased his mind to make sure it was there – make sure she was there across the ocean. They had talked on the phone the night before and he could still hear her shriek as she stubbed her toe on the doorframe whilst pacing around the house as she spoke to him. She wanted to order new tires for his pickup truck because she was afraid the current ones would be expired once he got back. He told her not to worry about any of that, but she insisted and then asked about Aika, changing subjects. No matter what they talked about, he always slept better after hearing her voice.

The landscape changed ever so slightly. They were there, right outside the deserted town’s walls. Sy gave everyone the order to pull up and get ready. It was only when he stepped out of the Humvee, his feet landing swiftly on the soft sand and the cold night’s air hitting his face, that he realized that Sy had been there already. He was dreaming again.

He had been there hundreds of times, taken the same steps, given the same orders and run away from the same explosion. After having the same nightmare night after night, the shock and the surprise element had lessened, but the dread remained unchanged. Sy was cursed to relive the same scene again and again, for moments even wondering if he lacked imagination so much that his mind was unable to come up with anything else.

Still, every night, he'd try changing the outcome, attempt to take control of his past self and make different decisions: refuse the mission, take a different team, catch Lieutenant Wilkins before he had a chance to run into the trap. It never worked. The result was always the same with him shouting for everyone to retreat and grabbing on to the back of Wilkins' uniform, trying to drag him out of the building, unsuccessfully. Then the telltale detonation followed, the building shook and they were thrown backwards with the explosion. When Sy landed on the concrete, there was a corpse - or what remained of it - on top of him. It was what had shielded him from the worst.

He once tried to warn Wilkins about the child's voice asking for help, to tell him it was a trap and that they needed to ignore it, but he was unable to speak. They were there, on the exact spot, a large room right down the stairs with no windows or lights, only three parted doors. Unlike the first time, the real time, he knew what was about to happen, through what door the grenade would be thrown out of before rolling on the dusty ground. And he went through it all over again.

It was the noise that alerted him the first time, the impact as it hit ground and then the rolling sound on the uneven surface.

"Retreat!" Sy heard his own voice shout loud enough for the rest of the team behind them to hear, then an echo of hurried, heavy footsteps followed.

He knew what happened then. Sy waited for the faint, unidentifiable cry for help and for Wilkins to blindly bolt towards the voice, the grenade.  He knew he'd unable to stop him this time just like all the others. What was the point of making him relive the same failure over and over again?

"Help!"

Sy froze on the spot, unlike all the other previous nights. This time it was not a random infantile voice. It was Ada's. She was crying out for help, for him.

This time it was him who dashed after the voice, the grenade exploding before he could reach her.

°°°

Ada thought that they had dodged the bullet, that they had somehow managed to avoid all the stuff she had crammed her head with when she had found out Sy was retiring from active combat sooner than expected. The notes she had taken, the websites she had visited, the therapists she had researched and ranked according to online reviews; she had started to think none of these would come in handy. Apart from that small incident when grocery shopping and the whole thing with Tom, Sy was okay, they were okay. Or so she thought.

It only took maybe eight days of Sy being back home to find out that wasn't true. It was almost like when you took a plane and fly halfway across the globe. The first days you’d eat dinner at 3am and go to bed three hours later and nothing felt real. Then it settled in. But this wasn't a spontaneous holiday or a mid-life crisis, this was an honorable discharge. Sy wasn't leaving behind an unsatisfying career, he was leaving the war.

He came home. They reunited, caught up with each other, basked in other's presence. Ada had to keep reminding herself that she could fall asleep at night without the anxiety of feeling like she was wasting away his leave with something as frivolous as sleep.

Only sleep wasn't frivolous, Ada soon came to realize. Sy slept well the first few nights back home. The exhaustion helped, so did sex. Sy would kiss her, roll over, pull her into his arms and fall right asleep after it.

That changed quickly. On the eight night, she woke up to pee hours before dawn only to find his side of the bed empty. She found him downstairs playing on his new console. It was the jetlag that made him unable to sleep, he said. Ada knew better, even as she acquiesced.

The following night, after making love and taking care of her, Sy didn't even bother pretending he was going to bed. "I won't be able to sleep anyways and I don't want to keep you up," he claimed, putting on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before going out for a run. It was past midnight.

After going two days with barely shutting his eyes, Sy did finally fall asleep in bed with her. Ninety minutes later, he was awake again.

"You okay?" Ada groaned softly, forcing her eyes open but it was too dark to see anything. She had woken up with his tossing and turning.

"Yeah, just go back to sleep," Sy replied dismissively, turning on his side and facing the window away from her.

Ada was about to do just that, believing his words in her incoherent sleepiness, when her hand touched his clammy back. He had managed to sweat through his t-shirt, but his skin remained icy.

"You're not okay," she whispered to herself before switching on her small bedside lamp and sitting up.

"I told you to go back to sleep, Ada," Sy protested, still facing away from her.

She shook her head softly and tried to pull him into her arms, but he was too heavy, and she couldn't move him without his help. "If something's wrong, you can tell me, you know."

She waited in silence for him to answer, to say something, anything at all. She had planned on watching podcasts, meeting with veterans and whatever she could do to help, but Sy had come home several months earlier than planned and she didn't know what to do, what was expected of her as a wife, as his partner, as his support person.

"Alright, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," she attempted quietly, sliding back into bed and moving in behind him, doing her best to be the big spoon for once. "We can just cuddle until you fall asleep."

Apparently, that turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Sy jumped out of bed as if her touch had burnt him. "I'm not a fucking child, Ada. I don't need your cuddles."

She flinched at his tone, taking a deep breath but her voice still came out strangled. "I was not implying you were a child, Sy. I just thought - no - I just hoped that you would find some comfort with me," she admitted but he was already getting dressed, sweaty skin and all. "Clearly I was wrong."

His face was red behind his full beard. He was pissed, she could almost feel him buzzing as he tried to restrain his anger and not - she didn't know what he was keeping himself from doing. Whatever it was, Ada was sure his next words hurt just as much as whatever he was initially going to do.

"I don't need you to fucking comfort me, woman!" He spat out, putting on a pair of boots. "I don't need anyone's help and certainly not my wife's!"

With that, he marched to the bedroom door, forcefully throwing it open. "I'm going out for air. Don't wait up for me."

They barely saw each other the next day. Sy texted that he was going to spend some time with his mom. Still hurt and offended, even though she knew this was not about her, Ada left for the day without telling him her whereabouts.

She took her car and drove to the animal shelter to help out. No one was expecting her there, but they gave her some work to do and it did help her feel better for a couple hours at least. But it was barely noon when she was done and she refused to go home, meeting up with friends instead. None of them asked why she wasn't at home practically glued to Sy. They were used to their friend pretty much vanishing off the face of the Earth whenever Sy came home for two or three weeks, but they were wise enough not to question it.

His words had stung. Ada was aware he had been mad, and that people always said dumb stuff when they were mad, but she did find some truth in his words. Why would he need her comfort? Her help? Or even a wife at all?

Sy had lived thirty-three years without knowing her and then three more married to her but living continents' apart. He could command soldiers, lead missions, plan attacks and whatever it was that he also did back in Iraq. The house was his, his mom would be overjoyed to cook for him and do his laundry again if he didn’t want to do it himself and Ada didn't kid herself - if he wanted sex, all he had to do was walk into a bar.

So, technically speaking, she knew Sy didn't need her. He was a grown ass man who could survive on his own better than ninety-nine percent of the population. What had hurt her was that he didn't want her, nor her help or her comfort. And if he didn't want her to try and make his life a lil' bit better, what was even the point.  Ada didn't know and all the cocktails she consumed didn't provide an answer either, but they did end up forcing her to eat almost her own weight in food to soak up all the alcohol before driving back home at ten.

She was still fishing out her keys to open the front door, when Sy pulled it open with so much force, it almost flew off its hinges.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Sy shouted as soon as she set a foot inside.

"I was out with friends.” Ada took off her shoes by the door. "How's your mom?" She looked up only long enough to find him staring down at her with his thick arms crossed in front of his chest.

"I sent you a dozen texts and called you just as many times, but you never picked up." Oh, his tone had switched to that unsettling calm before the storm.

"I apologize, my phone was on silent," Ada replied. It was true, though she had still noticed his calls and texts. "Look I am tired, and I am going to take a shower." She said before walking upstairs to their bedroom.

To her surprise, Sy followed her up, stopping only at their room’s threshold as if he weren’t allowed inside without her forgiveness. "I am sorry for yesterday," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s okay.” Ada shook her head, undressing rapidly and balling up her dirty clothes to throw them in the hamper. She smelt like a whole bar and she was desperate for a shower.

“I didn’t mean it, what I said,” he added, finally walking inside the room but still keeping his distances.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” She reassured him, disappearing inside the en-suite. This was just a fight. Couples had them all the time. Sy had even apologized. “I am sorry too. For today.”

His voice startled her, Sy was closer than she had expected. “Do you have need for me?” He asked, making her still as she bent down to fetch some fresh towels from the drawer. Did she have need for him? Ada frowned even though he couldn’t see her face. She heard him sigh again behind her.

"I felt useful back in Baqubah. I ran that city, commanded soldiers, gave my country something and then an explosion happens, two of my men die. And you know what they do? They send me home. Not to punish me for fucking up; they send me home because they thought I had witnessed enough shit and deserved an honorable discharge. Whatever the reason, my services weren't needed there anymore."

"Then I come home to my wife, to you, Ada. And you know what?” He asked before providing the answer himself. “The doors don't screech, the mirror has been replaced and my wife doesn’t even need me to take her out on dates or to the movies because she already has someone for that. So really, what's my goddamn purpose here? The house doesn't need me. You don't need me. Even my mother doesn't need me what with her new boyfriend. So why the fuck did I come back?"

He paused and Ada took it as a chance to stand up and face him. She didn’t know what this was. His voice wasn’t loud, he wasn’t shouting, and his posture didn’t appear hostile. They weren’t arguing, this was something different. “That’s not-” Sy cut her off.

"Then, last night, I realize that while you don't need me, I sure as hell need you, Ada. And that's not how I imagined my marriage would be. I should be the provider. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around."

"This is not the 1950s, Sy," Ada chuckled faintly despite herself.

"That don’t matter. It's how I was raised: preside, provide and protect. I don't care about the presiding part; I knew from day one that I'd never be able to boss you around and I didn't want to. But I still very much believe in providing for and protecting what's mine, and instead, you're the one doing that. So, not only did I fail my men back in Iraq, but now I’ve failed you too."

“No. Stop right there.” Ada interrupted him, more forcefully than intended. "Okay, first, you never failed me. Don’t you ever say that.” Sy huffed from his spot by the door, clearly unconvinced but she was determined to get this out. “Second, I... I think you need to stop settling for being needed and instead accept that you are loved, at least by me."

Sy stiffened against the doorframe, his face taking over an unreadable expression beneath his beard. Shit. Did she mess up again? "Did I say something wrong?"

He didn’t reply right away. Ada took a few steps to him when his words took her by surprise. "You said you loved me."

She stopped in her tracks, opening her mouth and closing it again a few times, stammering. Confusion was evident on her face. "Well, yeah."

"You've never said it before," Sy explained, the hint of a smile on his lips.

Ada frowned, a little unsteady on her feet as she thought back. "Are you certain? I'm pretty sure that is what I ended all our phone calls with."

He shook his head. "I meant in person.”

"Oh, I never realized.”

The cold bathroom tile floor was not the place either of them would have picked out under different circumstances, but it was where Sy finally allowed himself to be cuddled into the warmth of her embrace for the first time, his head resting against her naked breast with her slow heartbeat lulling him into a different kind of peace. “I do love you, Sy.”

Ada was no fool, this wouldn’t soothe all his troubles, but for now, it was a start. And that was all she could ask for.

°°°

Sy sat down on the chair in their study. Most walls were covered with Ada’s textbooks from floor to ceiling. He huffed at the sight. If you’d told him five years ago that he’d end up with an academic wife, he’d have laughed in your face. Now, he tested touched the shelves, watching them wobble slightly and decided he ought to build her something sturdier.

First, he had to take care of some administrative bullshit for the new job he'd be starting at Camp Marbry in January. He had always hated bureaucracy but there was no escaping it. He had learned it the hard way as a private. Maybe it was also time he started going through their utilities folders. Ada had taken over all of it when they got married, managing their bank accounts and paying the bills. Sy hadn't taken of that shit in years but he probably should relieve her of some of those chores.

His eyes wandered over to the neatly organized shelves under the office desk, trying to find the correct binder when his attention landed on what appeared to be a fancy silver notebook. Was that the one Tom had mentioned?

Sy knew he shouldn't go through her stuff, but he was curious and it was not like she had hidden it or anything. Ending his hesitation with a shrug, he picked up the notebook only for stray bits of paper to immediately fly out and land on the carpeted floor. "Shit!"

He bent down and gathered them all up quickly in his hand, lest Ada find out he was snooping and chide him like a soldier. He sat back on the chair and started reading through some of the bits and slips of paper he had caught: "shaving gel not cream!", "dog treats (the fancy ones)", "boxer briefs in L"... They were all dated too. Sy figured they were just old shopping lists until he opened the notebook.

The first part appeared to be a logbook of sorts with notes about each and every one of their calls for the past year. Sy went over some of them, grinning despite himself. He never imagined Ada took notes during their weekly phone calls.

"Sy says it's really cold at night in the desert."

"He seems a little down..."

"Aika has a sweet tooth." Damn, he missed that dog!

“Explosion. Two men dead.”

He skipped over the next few pages, remembering it all too well. After the logbook part, came a set of lists, all dated. "The monthly care packages," Sy realized, reading through them and concluding that this was where the bits of paper had fallen from.

All the care package lists were cross-referenced with the calls logbook. Sy had never understood how she always managed to send him exactly what he needed. He wasn't even aware that he had mentioned most of these small things to her. Most of the time, he didn't even understand how she managed to fit so much stuff into those small USPS boxes. Whenever he tried putting everything back in the cardboard box for safekeeping, half of it didn't fit back inside.

He flipped through a few more care packages before landing on a particularly long list. The date was highlighted, it was the package he had received on the month of his birthday. Ada had made him promise not to open it before the 18th. “You can open the box, but I will know if you open the present before your birthday, Sy,” she had warned him on the phone, trying to sound very stern.  “And if you do, I’ll come to Iraq just to whoop your ass.” He had laughed so loudly, Harper had knocked on his door to make sure he was alright.

Sy laughed again as he went over the list, remembering how the private from the deliveries and postal department kept on complaining because packages this big were 'not usually authorized' and that he was getting 'favor treatment' because he was captain and that Ada shouldn't even have been allowed to ship a box exceeding the maximum dimensions. Sy had taken the package from the soldier and asked if he fancied a trip to the infirmary. That had shut him up quickly.

There had been candy (no chocolate because it had melted through its packaging once when she had tried sending him some), gum, the two first James Bond novels, dog treats, a new photo of his niece and nephew, underwear that was way too fancy for him and a handwritten letter from Ada.

What had immediately caught his attention was the very neatly wrapped gift box with a big red bow and a small card that reminded him once more not to open it until his birthday and only when he was alone.

Sy laughed, remembering how giddy he was to open that damn box. They'd gone on a recon mission on his birthday and when they got back, everyone was exhausted and dirty. He had hurried to the showers, cutting off some soldiers and then rushed to his private room to open the gift.

In all his adult life, Sy could only remember blushing three times, two of them the same day. First was when Ada said 'I do’ and he tried sliding the ring on her finger, but nervous and tipsy like he had been, the damn tiny thing slipped off his hand and fell on the carpet. Second was when the limo supposed to bring them back to their hotel was caught up in traffic, and the two of them decided to get it on in the chapel's storage room while another couple was getting married. Not only did they promptly – and accidentally, might he add – knock over all the props, he literally ended up fucking her through the cheap and unstable dry wall. The look on the couple’s face had been priceless!

The third time was on his birthday. Inside the box, he had found a handful of professionally made photos of Ada in lingerie and sometimes not even that much. If that didn't have his mind spinning and his dick throbbing after so many months away, he certainly couldn't believe his eyes when he found a small tube of lube and a transparent fleshlight.

It was not the gift as such that made him blush. The photos had him beyond excited and he was all too eager to try out the fleshlight. No, the embarrassment only settled in afterwards. More specifically when Sy remembered that despite having a private room as a captain, the washrooms where shared and he found himself cleaning the fleshlight in the sink with the little water they had, hoping no one would see him.

"Oh shit!"

Sy jumped in his chair at her voice, he hadn't heard her get home, let alone upstairs.

"Fuck. You weren’t meant to see that, Sy.” Ada babbled, quickly walking up to him with a sheepish look on her face.

Sy smiled, interrupting her as he seized her hips and pulled her down to sit on his lap. "It’s okay, darlin'."

Ada's eyes widened incredulously. "Really? You’re not even mad at me for meeting with a therapist to get advice?"

Sy closed his eyes, nostrils flaring for a moment. Right. Admittedly, he had not yet made it to that part but while he wasn't exactly keen on discussing his private life with strangers, he felt no anger at finding out that Ada had tried to look after him. Her words from last night had somehow made it through his thick skull.

"No, I'm not angry, not even for that. I know you were just trying to-"

Sy opened his eyes again at her silence only to find his wife grinning like the Cheshire cat as she looked at the open page on the notebook.

"You didn't even make it that far, huh?" She chuckled, pointing at the list. "Nope, you were still stuck with that ridiculous birthday gift I gave you!" While her tone was accusatory, Sy could see that she was trying not to burst out laughing.

Rolling his eyes, he pried the notebook from her hands and set it down on the desk. "It was not a ridiculous gift. I kept it all," Sy reassured her, pressing her body closer to his. "Well, not the lube. That was gone in weeks. And the photos are definitely a little used now but-"

Ada kissed him out of the blue, shutting him up. "Sy, I really love you but you're giving me secondhand embarrassment right now."

The bear of a man laughed, holding ever impossibly tighter before kissing her forehead. "I love you too, wife." Then, another thought crossed his mind. “Do you think it’s possible to send a care package to a dog?”

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​

[laceymorganwrites]

Your weapon

Word count: 2,087

Pairing: Zeldris x fem!goddess!reader x Meliodas

Warnings: threesome, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (both receiving), slight dubcon

A/N: I don´t know how it ended up like this, this whole thing is a mess 

Purgatory was the last place one would think about when being on the quest to find love.

Well, you weren´t really on a quest, you just wanted to prove your mother wrong who told you you couldn´t be loved. You doubted you yourself could love.

But here you were, running away from ´home´ and escaping the tortures your mother did to you.

You weren´t a goddess anymore, your mother modified you into a monster.

Her intent was to produce the perfect weapon to obliterate the demon race, so naturally she used her own daughter to experiment on.

She used all sorts of magic to make your emotions disappear, she injected you with demon blood and did other horrible things to you so that you would satisfy her need for war, destruction and despair.

You experienced the first sign of happiness when you let yourself get caught by one of the princes of purgatory, Zeldris.

He had a proud smile on his face as he chained you up in the dungeon prison, he thought he caught the weapon, not the broken girl.

You couldn´t really blame him, instead you felt a wave of relief coming over you as you stood a midst the cold brick walls.

“Thank you” you tried to smile at him, if felt weird, you never smiled before but it felt like an instinct, if felt right to do when you were happy.

Zeldris frowned.

“If you try to pull anything, me and my family will kill you” he stated without any emotion.

“Thank you” you said again, leaving him confused and infuriated.

It was finally over, you were free, and should you fall into your mother´s hands again, they would end you.

Everything was going to be alright, you could rest assured.

Soon another prince was getting you out of the cell to bring you to the demon king, he wanted to be sure of your intent.

You knelt down in front of him and waited until he told you to speak.

“My mother sent me to exterminate your race, however that is not my intention. I want to thank you for saving me. I don´t wish to ever return to her, she´s a cruel woman” you told him, you didn´t know how you could speak so freely. Your mother would never let you, you were scared that she would hear you now somehow and scold you, but she didn´t come, everything was silent.

Peace.

It was the first time you experienced inner peace.

“I understand. You are allowed to walk freely” the demon king told you, making you bow your head in gratitude.

The castle was huge, but you didn´t realize you got lost, everything was so great and impressive.

You opened a door and hot steam hit your face, blinking a few times you realized you just stumbled into the bathroom where Meliodas was taking a bath.

He didn´t notice you at first, you stood silently in the doorway, not knowing what to do.

Should you just close the door and leave? But it was so nice and warm, you wondered how the water felt.

“Do you want to get in?” Meliodas asked you as he noticed you.

You nodded, slowly closing the door and entering the bathroom.

Fumbling with your clothing, you allowed yourself into the warm water. Usually you only splashed yourself with cold water to get clean, the thought of taking a bath to relax never once crossed your mind.

As you sunk into the water, a sigh of relief left your mouth as you closed your eyes, just enjoying the moment.

Meliodas´ eyes scanned your body, hunger blurring his thoughts. You were beautiful, he found it hard to control himself around you.

The demon inside of him told him to kill you at sight, but the bigger part of him told him to make you his.

“Thank you” you said, meeting his gaze and letting your arms rest beside you, you were on full display for him now.

Meliodas didn´t even try to cover up the fact that he was staring at your tits, he was so fixated on them that it was hard to hold back from touching them.

“For allowing me shelter...I don´t know if you realize this, but your family saved me” you explained after a little silence.

“And what do you have to offer as a sign of your gratitude?” he husked, his demonic aura taking over and darkening his eyes.

“I could become your solider and fight my clan with you” you stated, pledging your loyalty to the demon clan.

Meliodas smirked and put a wet strand of your hair behind your ear, the water droplets form his body fell down on yours and pearled down your flesh, he followed them intensely with his hungry eyes.

“Didn´t my father make it clear already that you fighting days are over? You´re gonna have to come up with a better way to show your gratitude” he purred, his eyes resting on your tits.

You thought about his words for a while in silence, the air around you was hot, the steam from the water rising up and making you dizzy.

“I have nothing to offer you… I only exist to fight, it´s the only thing I´ve ever known” you answered after a while, it frustrated you, suddenly you became hyper aware of yourself. You wanted to be your own person.

“I think you´re offering me quite a bit right now” he darkly smirked at you and you tilted your head in confusion.

“I...I don´t understand” you quietly admitted, furrowing your brows and helplessly looking at him.

His smirk widened, you were such an innocent one… he´d love to corrupt you.

Meliodas got awfully close to you and still wore that lustful smirk as he whispered in your ear how gorgeous your body was.

“You think so? I never put much thought into it… the only thing I needed this body for was to fight” you reckoned.

“You missed a lot of fun things you could do with it then. Do you want me to show you?” he husked into your ear to which you subconsciously nodded.

You had to admit you were quite curious.

Your breath hitched when Meliodas got even closer to you, you could feel his hot breath on your skin, wet strands of his hair fell in his face and droplets of water glistened on your skin.

A moan escaped your lips when his lips met the skin of your neck, it wasn´t soft.

No, Meliodas violently sucked on your neck, growling and leaving marks.

Though you didn´t mind, pain was a foreign concept to you and you felt something new with this… something exciting.

At the same time his hands found your boobs, squishing them rather roughly, enjoying the feel of hot skin.

His mouth wandered from your neck to your throat, then below to your collarbones and finally he had your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it and gently nibbling on it. Meanwhile with his other hand he pinched your other nipple between two fingers and circled it between them.

The feeling was overwhelming and you couldn´t quite control your body as you let out a rather loud moan.

Meliodas´ demonic aura was evident as Zeldris entered the bathroom, having heard your moan even downstairs.

“What the hell are you doing, brother? You´re hurting her” he called out and glared at him, trying his hardest not to stare at your beautiful bare form in front of him.

“She can´t feel pain anymore, it doesn´t matter. Besides, she´s not complaining. Why don´t you join us?” his tone was bitter, but he could see how badly his little brother wanted to have you as well.

Zeldris hesitantly undressed and let himself sink into the warm water next to you.

His eyes gazed over your skin, taking in the bruises his brother left.

Hesitantly he came closer to softly kiss each and every one of them, pulling you closer to him, his arm resting around your waist.

He pulled away for an instance and locked eyes with you before locking lips.

His gaze was so full of emotion you couldn´t read but would understand eventually.

And his kiss… it made you feel things you never did before, it was like the rush of going into battle, but so much more intense. And so much more… safe.

When his tongue touched yours, you felt a rush going to your middle and held on tighter to him.

While Zeldris was making out with you, Meliodas came up behind you to leave more marks on your neck and to caress your ass.

You felt yourself subconsciously grinding against his length as you flung your arms around Zeldris neck to deepen your kiss.

Soon Zeldris scooped you up to sit you down on the brink of the bath, his hands resting on your legs, softly tracing them over your skin.

“I´m sorry for the way I treated you before, I´m gonna make up for it now” he gently said and looked up at you before spreading your legs.

Somehow his words left an anticipating feeling in your stomach and you watched in awe as he started licking up your entrance.

Zeldris was so concentrated, sucking on your clit gently and awakening new sensations in your body.

He had to hold your legs down because they started shaking so much.

But that didn´t stop him from continuing his work as he dove his tongue into your pussy, immediately pressing it against your g-spot.

You felt your hips buck against his face, craving more.

The friction already drove you crazy and you didn´t quite know how to react to all these new feelings and sensations, however your body reacted on its own and you couldn´t hold back your moans and mewls.

You never wanted this feeling to stop and it got even better once he added his fingers, moving them in and out of you at a rapid pace.

Meanwhile he came up again and kissed you passionately, you returning it in the same way.

“I-I want to please you too...” you breathed out after you separated for air.

Zeldris blushed deeply at your boldness but couldn´t deny you, so he now took your place and sat down on the brink of the bath.

“I´m also not done with you yet” Meliodas called out and made you bend over,  placing a knee between your legs and spreading you open.

You felt a rush of excitement go through you as you felt his length press up against you, entering you in one swift move.

A cry of pleasure left your lips and you leaned down over Zeldris´ cock to circle your tongue around his tip.

He sucked in his breath at that and gripped your hair, whimpering as you continued and now put it in your mouth to suck on it.

Meliodas meanwhile slammed his hips into yours unapologetic roughly and that way you were forced to take Zeldris deeper into your mouth.

Saliva was dripping down his cock, coating it and he moaned loudly, your own moans only adding to his pleasure.

You could hear Meliodas´ low growls and grunts from behind you, the way he gripped your ass tightly and used you to his own pleasure was exciting beyond belief.

And then there was Zeldris who looked at you with such emotion in his eyes, something so pure and warm, it was like a flame that wouldn´t burn you. Something you never experienced before. The way he ignited said flame inside of you, in such a different way than his brother did.

Meliodas made you dizzy with pleasure but Zeldris made you fuzzy with feelings.

And as the realization hit you that what you were feeling could possibly be love, you let a wave of pleasure overcome you.

Meliodas still pushed in and out of you throughout your orgasm until he came inside of you, his cum leaking and dripping out of you while Zeldris came in your mouth, you tried to swallow it all, but it was too much and so some of it drizzled down your chin.

Meliodas pulled out of you and you also let go of Zeldris to catch a breath.

“You did well” Meliodas smirked and left you two alone.

Zeldris held your collapsed form and cradled your back while you gazed up at him with tired eyes.

He proceeded to wash your body gently, cleansing it and kissing your marks again.

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 29 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: While Daryl and the others are fighting their way through Alpha’s trap, the reader comes face to face with their fear as Beta enters Alexandria. 

Word Count: 4826

Warning: Swearing, Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes

Note: So, this scene is a bit different. Judith is not in Alexandria at the moment as she’s with her mom in Hilltop. I am not removing Michonne from the story like she is in the show. So, this fight is gonna play out a bit different!

-------

Arriving back home in Alexandria, Enid words followed you.

She was right, Lydia should not have been out there alone and it would be your fault if she got hurt or worse, fell back into the hands of her mother.

Even as you walked down the darkening streets of Alexandria, there was a part of you that didn’t care if Alpha took more lives and that terrified you. You loved your friends, your family, but if collateral damage was necessary for Beta and Alpha to die, then so be it. 

The bitter taste in your mouth followed you as you walked towards home. When you noticed Rosita pacing outside the cell, you slowed.

“What are you doing?” you asked. Rosita looked up at you and then walked forward wrapped her arms around you. 

Confused, you hugged her back before letting go. “Ro?” you asked again. 

“Sorry, I’m just… A lot has been happening,” she said. 

“Like what? I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Gamma is here,” Rosita said, gesturing towards the cell. 

“What?” you asked, glancing towards the small window. 

“She arrived earlier, said she wants to help us,” Rosita said. 

“And you believe her?”

“I don’t know. That’s why she’s locked up,” Rosita explained. 

“You think she’s another spy?”

“No,” Rosita said, shaking her head. “Though, I don’t know what to do with her. I keep thinking about when Dwight switched sides.” Nodding, you understood where she was coming from. Dwight had given you valuable information that helped you win the war against Negan and his men. 

“Dwight had someone he cared about pushing him forward,” you reminded her. “Sherry was everything to him.” 

“Gamma has her nephew,” Rosita reminded you and you knew she was right. Earl had taken in the Whisperer baby after Connie had saved him from his mother abandoning him in the sorghum field. 

“Is Adam enough?” you asked. 

“I hope so,” Rosita said. “I don’t know if we can win this fight without her help.”

“Is that willingness I hear, Espinosa?” you asked. 

“It just might be, (Y/L/N),” Rosita countered. 

“Well, what does Daryl think? Michonne?”

“Michonne is a bit MIA at the moment. She’s travelling from Oceanside or to Oceanside, I don’t really know. Daryl however, is gone.” 

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you asked, suddenly concerned.

“He, Jerry, Aaron, Connie, Kelly, Magna, and Carol got a lead on the horde. They went looking for it,” Rosita explained and you could see that she was worried as well. Sighing, you rubbed at your temples. This was why Carol had wanted you home. She needed someone to watch the front lines so she could go find Alpha’s Walkers. 

“They should have waited for me,” you said, clenching your fists. 

“I think one unstable person is enough,” Rosita mumbled and then realized what she said. 

“Nice,” you quipped, storming past her. 

“(Y/N)!” Rosita tried, but you kept walking, not wanting to hear what she had to say. You weren’t stupid, you knew that you had been acting irrationally. That much was clear and you could see that when it came down to it, you were not thinking clearly. However, you couldn’t get Beta’s face out of your head. 

It would be a cold day in Hell before you let him win. Then again, you felt as if the last decade had been Hell on Earth. Still, you pushed on, ignoring the worried looks of your friends as you headed to your house. 

Gabriel was coming out of Rosita’s house as you passed the front steps and he looked as if he was going to say something, but didn’t. Considering how pissed you were, he must have figured it was better to give you a moment alone. 

Shoving open your front door, you let it slam behind you. You went straight to your garage. The overhead gaslight illuminated the myriad of maps laid out on your workbench only reminded you of the failure you had experienced when trying to find Negan. Lashing out, you swept your hand across the table, scattering the maps across the map. 

Bracing your hands on the table, you struggled to keep it together. “I really need you,” you whispered to the empty room. A single tear dripped onto the old wood and you scrubbed the second from your cheek. Your knees sunk to the floor as you began to feel the loss of him again. 

“He’s not dead,” you reminded yourself. “He’s out there.” Even as you encouraged yourself, Negan’s face remained behind your eyes. Negan being alive was the only thing that was keeping you going. 

Sitting there on the floor of your garage, you thought back to a conversation you had during the war against the Saviors with the one and only Rick Grimes. 

Eight Years Ago…

“Hey, Boss,” you said as you walked into Rick’s house. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” Rick said with a small smile. 

“Ah, well, it’s a force of habit. You are, in fact, our boss. One that I am more than willing to follow.” 

“Well, thank you, (Y/N),” he said. 

“So, what’s up?” you asked, hopping up on the counter of his kitchen. 

“I need your advice on something,” he said. 

“Is this about Dwight?” you asked. “Because if it is, then I have to tell you that I don’t trust the weasel, no matter what he told Daryl.” 

“It’s not,” Rick said with a small frown. “It’s about Negan,” he said. 

“What about him?” 

“Carl thinks that he’s more than we think,” Rick said. 

“More than a psychopath who murdered our friends?” you asked, not liking where this is going. 

“Carl thinks we can reason with him.”

“And I think that the dinosaurs are going to come back,” you deadpanned. Rick gave you one of his looks, but you weren’t deterred by it. “Come on, Grimes, you don’t actually think that we can resolve all of this by a damn conversation, do you?” 

“I want the killing to stop,” Rick said. 

“I know, I know,” you said. “I just don’t want you to lose focus.”

“You think I should kill him?” Rick asked, but you paused. Taking a moment, you reviewed everything that had happened since the Satellite Station. 

“I think,” you began, “that you should do whatever is necessary to protect our people.” 

“What if that doesn’t include killing Negan?” Rick asked.

“Then it doesn’t,” you said with a shrug. “Look, I don’t know the man. I haven’t had the opportunity to actually speak to him or see what’s behind the cocky grin so I can’t speak on his character. I believe in a person’s actions and so far, Negan’s have been horrendous. Do I think that maybe one day he can be a decent person? Yeah, sure. I don’t think anyone is truly lost, but the future is a long ways away and we need to think about surviving now.” 

Rick was quiet for a moment before he looked back up at you and nodded. He then reached out and gripped your forearm and you mirrored the movement. “Thanks, Shots,” Rick said, using Carl’s nickname for you. 

“I’m always gonna be here, Rick. I ain’t never leaving you behind,” you promised. Rick smiled at you. 

“I know,” he said. “You never leave anyone behind. That’s why I love you so much, kid.” 

“Not a kid,” you reminded him. 

“Shut up and take the compliment,” he said and then you pushed him back. Rick feigned surprised and then pushed you back. The two of you ended up wrestling in the kitchen, laughing the entire time. Regardless of what was to come, you would be by his side as one of his closest friends and that was all that mattered.

--------

A loud thud pulled you from your thoughts. 

You waited, listening, and when you heard it again, you grabbed your sword and slipped out the side door, picking up a spare radio on the way. 

Pausing out front of your house, you searched the darkness around you. Something felt off and it made your skin crawl. Drawing your blade from its scabbard, you began to walk along the sidewalk, checking around every corner you could find. Your heart was hammering in your chest, but your breath remained steady. You were trying to rationalize that it could have been anything. Maybe a stray animal had gotten in and couldn’t get out. However, there was a part of your brain that knew how ridiculous that was. 

You never got this particular feeling unless it was for a good reason, or rather, a bad one. 

Slipping in between the houses, you searched darkened windows, checking in on your fellow Alexandrians, but everything seemed to be okay. That is until you came across a specific house. You could hear dull thuds as if someone was redecorating at the odd hour. 

Sneaking up to the front window, you peered into the dark living room. Suddenly, a pair of white eyes and a gaping jaw appeared at the window, startling you. As the freshly-turned Walker fought to get to you through the pane of glass, you noticed the slash mark on its throat. One that a very particularly large blade would make. 

“Shit,” you swore and pulled your radio as you stumbled back from the house. “Gabriel?” you whispered into the radio as you tried to get your nerve back. 

“What is it?” he asked, answering your call. 

“Walkers, there are Walkers inside the walls,” you said, finally turning away from the house. 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, looking around. It was then that you noticed a trail of fresh soil on the ground. If you hadn't been trained by the best tracker out there, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. However, the large boot prints in the soil only confirmed the fear in your mind. That fear turned to rage as your eyes began to scan for your target. 

For Beta. 

“(Y/N),” Gabriel said. “What is going on?” You went to answer him when you had a realization. 

“Gamma,” you gasped as you took off running, letting the radio crash to the ground as you ignored Gabriel’s worried tone that crackled over the line. You pushed your legs harder to get to Michonne’s house as quickly as possible. 

Throwing yourself down the cement steps, you burst into the jail that had its door broken down. When you beheld what was in front of you, however, you nearly crumbled to the ground. Instead of Gamma, you found Laura on the floor with blood across her face. 

Sliding to her side, you grabbed for her face and neck, checking for a pulse. “Laura? Laura, wake up,” you begged. Her eyes opened weekly as she saw your face. 

“(Y/N)?” she asked. 

“I’m here,” you said, trying to wipe the blood from her face. Her blonde hair was soaked in her own blood as she struggled to stay awake. “It’s going to be okay,” you promised her. As you pulled back your hand, however, they were drenched in red. 

“Beta,” she choked out as blood dripped from her lips. “Run,” she said, gripping at your shirt with weak fingers. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said to her as she kept staring into your eyes. “You’re not alone,” you whispered. Gripping her hands tight, you felt her trying to return the favor, but she was too weak. “Where is Gamma?” you asked her. 

“Got her out,” Laura said. “Safe… I… Think…” she said just as a tear fell from her eye. “I, I can’t,” she struggled. 

“Shh, don’t talk,” you said, trying to soothe her, but you didn’t have any more words of comfort to offer her. How could you tell her everything was going to be alright when he had done this? 

“Eugene,” Laura sputtered, choking a bit. “Tell him, thank...you.” 

“I will,” you promised as she reached for your face once more before her hand fell to her side and Laura drew her final breath. “No, no, no,” you cried as her pulse dwindled and then stopped altogether. “No!” you yelled, clutching her body to yours. It was as if the world stopped spinning. You knew that there wasn’t a guaranteed amount of time, you knew that and you had to finish it before she came back. There was a universal agreement across all the communities, nobody turned.

Pulling the knife from her belt, you quickly slipped it into the base of her skull, silencing her soul. As you pulled the blade, you fell into her again, hugging her close to you. Your tears mixed in with the dirt and blood on her skin as you clung to her, not ready to let go.

“I’m sorry,” you cried into her neck, holding onto her with dear life. “I’m so sorry.” As sorrow filled you, the anger began to boil over, nearly drowning you. Beta had done this. He had taken yet another person from you and probably enjoyed it too. Laura had been given a second chance after the war and he had stolen her life as if it meant nothing. 

Gently placing her down onto the floor of the jail, you shut her eyes with your steady hand. Taking a deep breath, you got to your feet and gripped your sword tight. Looking down at Laura again, you felt your heart breaking, but you ignored the pain and channeled it into fury. 

A loud crash came from above followed by a loud grunt. Turning from the body of your dead friend, you ran from the cell just to see Beta run from Michonne’s home, his knives in both his hands.

His large form was even more terrifying than you remembered. Daryl’s voice was in your head as you were reminded of what happened when Beta had fought him, but you weren’t Daryl and now, this was even more personal. 

As Beta turned his focus to Rosita’s home, you attacked. Drawing a smaller knife from your boot, you reeled your arm back and threw with all your strength. The knife embedded itself into Beta’s shoulder, making him stumble from surprise. You ran at him with all the speed you had left in you. 

Beta turned just as you raised your sword, aiming for his head. Beta ducked, parrying your blade with both of his. He knocked you back, but you returned with a strike aimed at his torso. Beta spun around, knocking you off balance, but you never stopped. 

Trading blows back and forth, you finally had another opening and aimed for his throat. Beta blocked once again, leaning in close as your blades scraped against one another. Looking into his eyes, you didn’t show an ounce of fear, but recognition lit up in his eyes as he groaned against the pain in his shoulder. 

“You,” he spat, his lips pulling back in a sneer. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Me.” Beta roared in anger as he kicked at your stomach, sending you to the ground. Rolling to your feet, you slashed at his leg, cutting into the back of his thigh. Beta stumbled again but remained on his feet. “Did you get my message?” you asked, lowering yourself into a crouch. 

He ran at you again, swinging his blades over your head. Ducking just in time, you avoided decapitation. “What did you do with Gamma?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” Beta said and then braced himself. “Yet.”

As Beta stalked towards you, all you could think about was Jesus and Tara and Laura and everyone else they had taken from you.

Red encompassed your mind as Beta aimed for your heart. With a quick turn, you pivoted on your right foot, ducked under his arms, and brought your sword up along his back. Your blade bit into his flesh as the leather tore. 

Beta yelled out in both pain and alarm as you drew your sword back. He whipped around, landing a blow to your head. You fell to the ground as stars danced in your vision. Beta kicked away your blade as it fell from your hand. Reaching down, he lifted you from the ground and got in your face.

“You are not worth death,” he spat in your face before throwing you against the curb. Your head hit hard and just before the darkness overwhelmed you, you swore you saw Beta smiling.

-------

Negan had no idea what Alpha was up to.

There were cryptic whispers around camp that led him to believe that Alpha had attacked Carol and the others, but he wasn’t sure of anything.

Then there was the Beta problem. Negan had no idea where the human Rottweiler had gone. 

Alpha was across from him, staring into the fire and she looked to be waiting for something. Negan wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but whenever she was that calm, it was never good. Just as he was about to speak up and ask her what was going on, her attention snapped to the shadows as Beta finally reappeared.

Negan watched as the second-in-command arrived and he looked rough. Even in the dark, Negan could see that Beta was injured. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think the Terminator douchebag could get injured, let alone bad enough to warrant a limp.

“Beta,” Alpha greeted as she didn’t move from her spot. Beta stopped before her, kneeling on the leg that seemed to be the less injured one.

“Gamma has betrayed us,” Beta reported. He then noticed that Negan was there, but Alpha kept her attention on her second, not caring about who was listening. 

“What happened?” Alpha asked, looking at the fresh blood. 

“She was hiding,” Beta said. “I couldn’t find her. These people are protecting her.” Negan had to hand it to Aaron, the man sure did know how to make friends. Negan continued to listen. 

“And the blood?” Alpha asked tilting her head to examine the wounds he had sustained. Her fingers threaded through the torn jacket and Negan could see the blood on her hands as she pulled it back. “Yours?” she asked, confused. 

“Ambushed,” Beta responded. 

“The archer is with Carol,” Alpha said. “Who else could have done this?” she asked. Clearly Alpha thought that Daryl was the only worthy opponent to go up against Beta, Negan thought. However, she had never seen Rosita when she went all “Mama Bear” and Negan hoped that he himself would never be on the other end of one of Espinosa's fists.

“Broadsword,” Beta bit out, the rage echoing out of him like steam on a train. At that one word, Negan’s blood ran cold. He tucked his hands under his legs before either of them could see the small tremor that was sneaking up on him. Negan fought to keep himself from swearing out loud as he put the pieces together. 

You had attacked Beta and you had nearly defeated him. 

“Are they alive?” Alpha asked casually. 

“For now,” Beta said. “I have plans for them. That one, dies by my hand.” Alpha nodded to him and then dismissed him to get his injured taken care of.

“What do you know about this sword-wielder?” Alpha asked him. Negan met her eyes and then relaxed further into the ground, shrugging one of his shoulders. With a lazy look on his face he vaguely waved a hand. 

Beta huffed and disappeared back into the camp. Negan watched after him, trying to keep it together. He knew that you had placed your sights on Beta, but now the man was turning his on you and that terrified Negan. 

“Absolutely nothing.”

-------

When you woke up, you were in a somewhat familiar room. 

An ache in the back of your head made you wince as you tried to sit up.

“I would take it easy if I were you.” Blinking, you turned towards the soft voice to see Enid standing over you. It was then that you realized you were in the medical trailer at Hilltop. “Here,” she said, reaching for your arm. Enid helped you sit up, placing a few pillows behind your back. 

“What happened?” you asked, trying to get your mind to stop racing.

“Beta knocked you out pretty hard,” she said with a sigh. “You hit your head and you’ve been out for almost two days.”

“Two days?” you asked.

“Siddiq brought you here to keep you off Beta’s radar,” she explained.

“That won’t last long,” you said with another wince as you rubbed at your temples.

Everything from that night was coming back in waves and it was making you feel a bit nauseous. Emotions swelled in your chest as you remembered the rage you felt when attacking Beta and the sorrow and dread you felt as Laura died in your arms.

Beta had done all of that just to find Gamma. A stranger had brought death back to Alexandria and you now had lost someone who truly understood you.

“Laura’s dead,” you whispered.

“I know,” Enid said, reaching for your hand. You squeezed hers back as you sat in silence.

“Where is she?” you asked. “Where is Gamma?” 

“Safe,” a new voice said as Michonne approached you. She was looking at you with concern but also relief. 

“Good,” you said, nodding. If Gamma had been taken or killed, all those lives lost the night Beta stalked Alexandria would have been for nothing. “I’m glad you’re here,” you said to Michonne. 

“We’re all here,” Judith’s voice piped up as she appeared behind her mother. 

“Hey, you,” you said, reaching out a hand to her. Judith walked forward and took your hand in hers. “I almost got him, kid. I was pretty damn close,” you promised her. Judith nodded as Michonne placed her hands on her shoulders.

“There’s something else, (Y/N),” Michonne said. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Daryl’s missing.” You fell back into your pillows at the news and you fought the urge to scream. You didn’t know how much more of this you could handle. It was starting to look as if Alpha may win and that made you want to beat her that much more.

--------

Holding a mask made from Walker skin was the last thing Negan expected to receive from Alpha.

"You've earned it," Alpha said as she stood next to him. Standing next to her, he could see the blood that streaked her clothing. Something had happened when she went off on her own hours before. Negan figured she had been in a fight, but he couldn’t be sure who she had gone up against. 

He did know that it wasn’t you. Beta was someone who would be a challenge for you, but Negan had a feeling that if you got Alpha one on one, she wouldn’t be standing next to him right now. No, this was someone else. Trying not to think about any of it, he returned to what was in his hands. 

"Why?" Negan asked, not liking the way the leathery skin felt against his calloused hands.

"You were right about Gamma," Alpha said. She then stepped forward and ran her hand down his arm. "She was the spy. You proved yourself to me."

"All I did was share my opinion," Negan pointed out as he met her eyes. Alpha was examining him and Negan knew what she wanted. His hand slipped into his pocket to rub along the marble, keeping his connection to you.

"You showed me that you want this. You are a crass man, but a smart one. The mask proves my loyalty to you as your words proved it to me."

"Well alright then," Negan said with a small smile. With a shake of his head, Negan pulled on the mask and secured it behind his head.

He could appreciate the irony, the act of putting on a mask when he was already wearing one. As soon as it was in place, Alpha reached up and ran her hands over his new face.

"Perfect," she whispered. Negan stared down, afraid of what he may have to do in order to keep his cover. He had done a lot of shitty things in his life, but sleeping with the enemy was not something he was eager to do, not when he still yearned for you and your touch.

The way that you lay your hands on his skin was as if you were searching for solidity kept him sane. He was your rock, grounding you into this world just as you were his. Without you, Negan wouldn't want to survive and he just hoped you hadn't lost that love you held for him because he sure hadn't. 

“Since we are trading trade secrets and all,” Negan began, causing Alpha to stop looming over him. “I had another idea.” 

“Go on,” she said.

“I know you are all about destroying everyone and proving you’re the alpha female. Though it’s not like you need to, you are the damn Alpha.”

“Your point?” she pressed.  

“How about we get them to join us?” Negan offered. “You were right when you said that these places with their walls and doors don’t last very long. I’ve seen many kingdoms fall since this whole shit show started and trust me, it’s only a matter of time. However, we get them to see how much better the way we live is…” Negan splayed his hands. “I’m just saying it would be something to think about.” 

Alpha was silent for a moment, thinking over his words. Negan was just hoping that she didn’t see the true intentions behind this sudden epiphany. The truth was, after Beta had admitted that you had done some serious damage, Negan was not eager for Alpha to exterminate you and your family. 

“What did you have in mind?” Alpha asked finally. Adjusting the mask on his face, Negan grinned at her. 

“I have some ideas.” Alpha raised her eyebrow at that but gestured for him to keep talking. “First, we’re gonna need a big ass tree.”

-------

Enid had finally cleared you and you were eager to get back on your feet. 

Walking out into the bright sunshine, Hilltop was bustling around you. You felt as if you had the worst hangover in history, but you pushed on. Dianne was on watch, Alden was over at his blacksmithing station, and you could see Ezekiel over at Barrington speaking to Kelly who looked distraught. 

Aaron spotted you then and jogged over. “Hey, you’re okay,” he said, grabbing you into a hug. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you said, pushing him back. “What happened while I was out?” you asked, gesturing to Kelly. Aaron sighed, running his hand through his curls. 

“Alpha, she trapped us in this cave full of Walkers. Her entire horde was down there,” he said. “We managed to find the exit, but…”

“But what?” you pressed.

“Carol tried to take out the horde with some old dynamite,” he said. “The explosion caused part of the cave to collapse.” The look on Aaron’s face told you enough. 

“Who?”

“Magna and Connie are trapped down there and we don’t know if they’re even alive,” he said. You hadn’t known Magna that well, but you liked her enough. However, Connie had become someone you turned to at times and you knew how much Daryl cared about her. Not to mention her sister who was her everything. This was too much after just losing Laura and now two more may be down.

“Are you okay?” you asked him. 

“Not really,” he admitted. You took him back into your arms, hugging him tightly. 

“Me neither,” you admitted, sinking into the embrace. 

“Open the gates!” you heard Dianne yell from her spot up top. You and Aaron split apart then and with a look, you both took off towards the main gate. 

You let out a breath of relief as you saw who was walking into Hilltop. Daryl and Lydia leaned on each other as the gates shut behind him. Daryl seemed dead on his feet as Lydia struggled with both of their weapons. You ran forward and grabbed the crossbow from her as Aaron took hold of Daryl. 

“Daryl fought her,” Lydia said as she breathed heavily. Daryl’s leg was bleeding, and he looked as if he had been run over by the horse and the carriage. Michonne came running behind you, helping Lydia stay on her feet. 

“You’re a moron,” you said to Daryl, grabbing at his face. “But I love you.” Daryl snorted and then you were taking his other arm and helping him to Enid. Lydia followed close by as Michonne carried her staff for her. “I’m sorry, Lydia,” you said to her. “I shouldn’t have asked you to go looking.”

“It was my decision,” Lydia defended. “I didn’t find him, but we have a new problem.” You, Aaron, Michonne, and Daryl all looked at her then. 

“What is it?” Michonne asked. Lydia grimaced. 

“My mother’s coming.”

TAGS: @lucillethings​ @cameronsails​ @stark-dreams​ @amaroho​ @thanossexual​ @yes-sir-hotchner​ @boom-bunny​ @delusionalteenagewhispers​ @scootankle​ @ritajammer21​ @writteriguess​ @tea-atfive​ @jennydehavilland​ @waspyyy​ @yespleasejayhalstead​ @hoemadegrace​ @writingdeadangel​ @huffledor-able541​ @pulplorrd​ @felicisimor​ 

[silver-strands]

Silver & Golden | Chapter 1

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger

Genre: Angst, Smut, Post-War

Word count: 3373

Warnings: Morally Grey Draco Malfoy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Eventual Explicit Smut, Forced Marriage, Dysfunctional Relationships, Possessive Draco Malfoy

Summary: Hermione Granger has Draco Malfoy figured out. She doesn't believe his carefully created façade of redemption and atonement that has the rest of the Wizarding society bewitched. After one reckless night ends up in her becoming the new Mrs. Malfoy, she's forced to reconsider everything she thought she knew about the enigmatic man who guards his secrets like a dragon guards its treasure.

Weekly Updates. 

When it rains, it pours.

Hermione should have been aware that things almost always never go the way she plans them to, what with all she’d been through in her teenage years. She’d finally started to believe that the post-war life she had carved out for herself might be different. A nice boyfriend, even nicer friends and a job at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures straight out of Hogwarts.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop for years now. And it had. Her long-time boyfriend and life-long friend had broken up with her in a spectacularly humiliating and public manner. Ron’s tongue down Astoria Greengrass’s throat at a ministry gala last weekend celebrating the expansion of the DRCMC - Hermione’s department! - had been plastered over the gossip pages of all newspapers and society magazines. She’d thought nothing could be worse than enduring the pitying glances and whispered words wherever she went. Silly her, she thought public humiliation, her boyfriend’s betrayal and everyone being privy to her carefully constructed life imploding in her face would be all she would have to go through.  

Of course not.

Hermione glared at two matronly witches whispering behind their hands as they surreptitiously eyed her. When they noticed her scowl they scampered down the corridor, their old-fashioned robes swishing behind them. It had been close to two months and it seemed like Britain’s wizarding society was still not over the entertainment Hermione’s situation provided them.

She wondered what they would think if they knew what she had learned from Healer Abbott five minutes ago while expecting nothing more than a diagnosis of the common stomach bug. If they could only read the rolled up scroll she was gripping so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

This was different than the other hundred problems currently plaguing her. This was personal. Something that all the others witches and wizards, healers and staff currently milling about all around her in the lobby of St Mungo’s second floor would not have dared to imagine could happen to Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age, one-third of the Golden Trio, about to become head of Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, essentially the most driven and ambitious witch in all of Britain.

No, nobody would imagine that she was capable of jeopardising her entire career and future goals in such a clichéd manner, all by herself.

Wait, that wasn’t true. She scowled as memories of gossamer soft hair beneath her fingers, an icy grey gaze trained on her lips and a chiseled pale torso languidly moving above her assaulted her mind, crumbling her resolve to not think about a certain platinum blond who had tipped Hermione’s world on its axis that fateful night.

In more ways than one, she thought as blood rushed to her cheeks.

Not wanting to spend one minute more in the place which had delivered the news of her doom, she steadily moved towards the fire-places lined for floo-travel from St. Mungo’s, dreading going back to her corner office at the Ministry.

How was she supposed to meet the eyes of all her colleagues and friends knowing what she knew? How was she supposed to carry on like nothing had changed when her whole life had?

Green flames died down behind her as she stepped into the Ministry’s main atrium, keeping her head down and hoping no one would stop her. Quickly snagging a relatively empty lift, she almost breathed a sigh of relief as she arrived at her level without incident.

She just needed time to herself. Time to regroup and compartmentalise her thoughts, come up with the best solution to this new problem which eclipsed everything that had transpired with Ron a few months back.

With renewed resolve she stepped out of the lift and looked up.

Her heart seized in her chest, missing a very telling beat at the sight of the tall, platinum blond wizard silently nodding at whatever her mentor and DRCMC head Helena Hornby was enthusiastically gesticulating about.

His face was blank and impassive and if she didn’t know better she’d think he wasn’t paying a lick of attention to whatever Hornby was so excited about. But she knew better.

Nothing slipped his notice. He was the bane of the senior members of the Ministry and the Wizengamot. She’d seen him throw their own words - said during tipsy socialising at various Ministry events - back at their faces with a barely suppressed air of haughtiness at various meetings and conferences where he lobbied for the Malfoy Estate and Holdings. He was a clever conversationalist. If he was listening to someone speak with a vacant expression, he was either cataloguing every word to memory or they were boring him to death. There was really no way to tell.

Hermione almost stumbled as she hurriedly hid behind a potted Flutterby Bush beside the lifts. Fortunately, it wasn’t in bloom, she didn’t need her newly sensitive nose assaulted with heady scents, no matter how pleasant.

She held her breath as Malfoy’s head briefly turned in her general direction as the plant shook and quivered at Hermione’s close proximity. Hornby clutched his forearm to get his attention back.

Malfoy stiffened and deftly shook off the tall woman’s hand with pursed lips. Hermione almost sniggered as he tried to suppress his annoyance. She would have rolled her eyes, but she had become entirely too familiar with the peacock dancing and preening many witches (and some wizards) attempted in Malfoy’s presence, trying to get his attention or start awkward conversation that always led to them asking him out and him turning them down.

Her mouth twisted in a grimace. Her Department head, who was happily married, was no exception to the charm of the deceptively pleasant and attractive persona her school bully now went about wearing. After the war, he had turned his public image around 180 degrees and many contributed it to his parents looming influence and legacy no longer shadowing him. Lucius Malfoy was serving life in Azkaban and Narcissa Malfoy had decided to shift to the Malfoy estate in France to get away from the shunning glances and vitriolic words of the rest of the Wizarding society.

Everyone had thought that the Malfoy heir would follow after his mother, but he hadn’t. He had defied everyone’s expectations with his actions.

Thoughts of Malfoy’s miraculous redemption fled her mind as she noticed a branch of the Flutterby nearing her stealthily. She shuffled back, inwardly cursing whoever thought putting a pot of the most unsuitable plant in the Ministry’s cold interiors would be a good idea.

Fortunately, it looked like Malfoy had finally had enough of whatever Hornby was talking about as he started to turn towards the row of lifts, probably making some excuse to leave. Hermione couldn’t hear much from her crouched position.

Let it be said that Hermione was afraid of no-one, she just did not want to deal with what she had learned that morning without forming a plan of action first.

She felt a slight tickle under her nose and she hastily slapped at the branch which had sneaked under face, but not before her nose twitched and a loud sneeze resounded throughout the lobby. She froze, her hands snapping up to cover her mouth.

She looked up, her eyes widening

Malfoy was watching her with bemusement, his head tilted to the side. “What are you doing Granger?”

Hermione scrambled to stand up with as much dignity she could muster after getting caught hiding behind a plant. She brushed off her sensible black skirt, her nose rising in the air as if nothing out of ordinary had happened.

She sniffed. “I was just checking if the Flutterby was in bloom.”  

“Right," drawled Malfoy, eyes glinting with amusement as he watched her stiffly walk towards Hornby. Her department head gave her a confused look.

“You were eavesdropping. Clearly something you’re not good at.” His tone turned mocking. “Who would’ve thought.”

Hermione whirled around to glare at him. “I wasn’t—“

Her words died in her throat. Malfoy was eyeing the scroll of parchment in her right hand which she hadn’t even realised she was crumpling under her tight grip.

The scroll bound by a lime green ribbon signature of all paperwork from St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  

Hermione reflexively moved both her hands behind her back, her left hand clutching her right wrist in her best appropriation of a casual stance.

He glanced up impassively, giving her a terse nod before striding towards an open lift, not waiting to hear whatever explanation she might have come up with for eavesdropping on him and Hornby.

“What was that all about?” Hornby muttered, frowning at Hermione.

Her mentor was a tall woman in her mid-thirties with auburn hair and kind brown eyes. Hermione liked her. Most of the time.

She shrugged, changing the subject smoothly. “What were you and Malfoy discussing? Anything important that I need to know about?”

Hornby smiled, her eyes lighting up. “I was just reminding him about the meeting scheduled before lunch today. His presence at a HEPA meeting is going to send a strong message to all the other departments. They’re gonna take our draft legislation seriously or risk getting on Malfoy’s bad side.”

Hermione’s jaw clenched as Hornby talked about her most ambitious project as some sort of joke which could only be legitimised through a rich lobbyist’s sponsorship. House Elves (Protection and Advocacy) Bill  or HEPA for short was the defining idea of Hermione’s short career, conceived when she was just a school girl shaking donation boxes under other students’ noses for S.P.E.W. After five years working at the ministry, her idea for Elfish reform was finally getting somewhere.

“Why do we need his sponsorship again?” she asked curtly. “It’s not like the bill is envisaging House Elf freedom. It’s simply outlawing Elf abuse and allowing them a chance to be represented by the ministry in legal disputes.”

Hornby gave her that patient look which always gave Hermione the impression that even though her mentor clearly admired her intellect, she thought Hermione was still a little wet behind the ears.

Usually Hermione didn’t mind it, always eager to learn more about the psyche of the upper echelons of the Wizarding society, but in this context, where her school nemesis was involved, it rankled.

“We are essentially asking for house elves to be categorised as legal entities capable of taking their masters to the Wizengamot through a Ministry representative in extreme cases. That is bound to cause an uproar, Miss Granger.” Her lips twisted in a grimace. “Never mind the fact that we have had to limit this option to a few exceptional situations and House Elves are not likely to come forward and demand justice anyway, most witches and wizards will not see eye to eye with the DRCMC on this.”

Hermione sighed, reminded of the uphill battle in front of her. She had gotten a bit distracted with the recent developments in her personal life. Her desk was piling up with statistical reports and legal research she had to review and proposals she had to draft for the exact purpose of making witches and wizards see eye to eye with them on this bill.

Hornby continued. “Wealth matters, Miss Granger. No matter how much we want the system to work purely on the basis of good morals and righteousness, if people don’t see their own advantage in these kind of things, they don’t care much for it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “And that’s where Malfoy comes in.”

They were familiar enough with each other that Hornby didn’t mind Hermione’s cheek. “He has the galleons.” She shrugged, folding her arms. “And the connections.”

Hermione scowled. “That itself is a travesty.” She shuffled her medical report from one hand to the other. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at the meeting before lunch.”

With a nod of farewell, Hermione entered the archway that led to her department. The main hall contained the small cubicles for entry level workers and beyond that a series of equally sized boxed walls comprised the individual offices.

Hermione dodged interdepartmental memos as she made her way to the one north-east corner of the building. She loved her office. She only had one office neighbour directly to her left. An aged man who worked for the Office of Misinformation. She’d learned that he was long past his retirement age but still refused to actually retire. Hermione appreciated his hard work, as well as his penchant for being quiet and un-obtrusive.

As soon as Hermione entered she set about making some tea to calm her stomach. Waving her wand to start on boiling some water in the kettle kept on the side table, she took out her favourite green tea and a chipped mug Ginny had gifted her for Christmas two years ago which she only ever took out of its hiding place in the drawer when she was alone. The mug was a rather unfortunate consequence of Ginny’s lewd sense of humour and her awareness of Hermione’s aversion to Quidditch.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the looping picture of a broomstick flying on the porcelain surface before the spell “Reducio!” flashes in bold black letters and the broomstick shrinks, flying straight beneath the long skirts of an unsuspecting witch who widens her eyes.

If anyone other than Ginny had given it to Hermione, she would have clobbered them over the head with it.

Tea in hand she sat down behind her desk with a sigh, going over the  disastrous morning in her head like a movie reel.

Waking up tired and annoyed after a day of meetings and draft revisions of HEPA while avoiding inquisitive glances and words in the cafeteria and the corridors, finding out that Witch Weekly had published another piece about her and Ron in their “Trouble in Paradise” section of their society pages. Which also happened to have a picture of Draco Malfoy leaving an Opera House in Paris with a long legged blonde on his arm.

That had been enough to put Hermione in a foul mood but then her stomach had decided to act up again for the fifth time that week and because her own remedies had failed her she’d finally scheduled an appointment at St Mungo’s.

Then everything had crashed and burned around her.

Hermione burned holes in the crumpled parchment on her desk with her eyes.

She was pregnant. And she knew for a fact that it wasn’t Ron’s child, not that would have been any consolation. Her relationship with her school friend was also currently on the way down the drain if she didn’t do anything about it soon.

Her priorities had shifted though, and as her mind so helpfully supplied the image of Malfoy’s cold eyes just a few minutes ago, she began to comprehend the daunting task ahead of her.

That night had meant nothing, just a way to get back at Ron for kissing the younger Greengrass girl in front of half the British wizarding society. Malfoy had been the only one who had followed her after she left the ballroom with deadened eyes and her cheeks on fire, Harry had pulled Ron away to no doubt give him a piece of his mind and Ginny hadn’t been in attendance that night.

Afterwards she had wondered if Malfoy had only followed her because he didn’t trust her wandering by herself in his manor. He hadn’t been sympathetic or pitying when he found her in an empty study, just asked her if she’d like something stronger than the glass of champagne she’d been clutching in her hand. She’d agreed and as they shared a bottle of the finest firewhiskey in front of the fireplace in silence, something reckless took over her. She’d reached across the couch and grabbed his shirt to pull his mouth down to hers.

Later she’d convince herself that it had been the firewhiskey, but she knew better, she’d been entirely too sober when she kissed him. Too sober to blame it on anything else but her need to feel those full lips on hers, to run her fingers through silver strands that created a halo around his head in the moonlight filtering in from the tall window, and to finally satisfy a forbidden curiosity that she’d kept close to her heart since fourth year at Hogwarts.

A curiosity that had strayed too far from innocent teenage musings over the years.

But the worst part was, even now that she was facing the consequences of acting on her forbidden desires, she knew that that one night had done nothing to douse the fire of the depraved thoughts that came to her deep in the night, when she was all alone.

No, that one night had only served to add fuel to the flame.

Putting her mug down with a thunk on the desk, she reached up to massage her temples as she felt the familiar pressure of a stress headache beginning to form.

When she had rejected Ron’s marriage proposal at their favourite restaurant close to three months ago, she hadn’t known that one refusal would snowball into events that would forever change her life. She berated herself for telling him no in front of the whole restaurant, she should have accepted and then gently let him down in private. Then Ron wouldn’t have felt vindictive enough to return the favour and she wouldn’t have ended up in Draco Malfoy’s arms of all people.

Then she wouldn’t be carrying the baby of her school bully.

She didn’t know where it had all gone wrong. She vaguely remembered casting a contraceptive charm after they’d hurriedly divested their clothes just enough to allow him to thrust into her and erase all thoughts of precautions from her mind. Maybe she hadn’t been precise enough. Contraceptive charms weren’t always foolproof anyway.

She’d been uncharacteristically careless and now she was paying the price.

A thought popped into her head, replacing despair with anger.

She wasn’t the only person responsible for this, Malfoy could also have been more careful that night.

He could have refused her advances.

For all that he went about displaying his superiority and for all his vows in school that she was filthy, he hadn’t objected once to sex with her. Where was all his pure-blood nonsense when it was needed. Short term embarrassment at his rejection would have been better than this.

Apart from her, Harry and Ron, everyone else believed that he had changed for the better. His countless charity drives, reparation efforts and ministry donations, as well as his tendency to be behind all the post-war reconstruction efforts as a sponsor aided that public perception. He made frequent appearances at society events and funnelled galleons where they were required in the Ministry to clear the negative reputation his father had acquired for the Malfoy name.  

She didn’t buy that he had genuinely changed. Even though she had testified for him, believing that he didn’t deserve an Azkaban sentence was different from believing that he would shed his blood supremacist prejudices that easily.

Malfoys gravitated towards power, they didn’t rest until they got what they wanted. She wouldn’t put it past him to adopt a pleasant, progressive veneer to do exactly that.

Hermione got up as her stomach twisted for the second time that day. She didn’t have any of the nausea calming potions listed in the parchment atop her desk so she settled for taking deep breaths till the sensation passed.

No matter what she thought about Malfoy, she needed to tell him. Although her Gryffindor morals and passionate self-righteousness had evened out as she’d aged, she still had some tenets she stuck by. The thought of keeping the information that she was pregnant with his child from Malfoy didn’t sit right with her. No matter what she decided in the end, as the father he deserved to know about it.

As she took another deep breath her resolve hardened. She would tell him. Today. After the meeting. She would ask him to lunch and she would tell him.

[rosella-writes]

writing tag game

Thank you so much for the tag @noire-pandora, @kittynomsdeplume, @melisusthewee and @emerald-amidst-gold <3

Whoooo boy, here we go.

How many works do you have on AO3?

17, but quite a few are just one-shots. I only have a couple long-fics, mostly because my poor ADHD brain is cruel to me.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

190,052, but if I hadn't orphaned my old (and embarrassing) Skyrim and Sherlock fanfics it'd probably be closer to 300,000.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips - 579

i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted - 56

a fuller feeling (a brighter burst) - 54

Eunoia - 40

i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you (fuel the pyre of your enemies) - 39

(And to be perfectly honest, my most popular fic is by far my worst. I spend so much more time carefully crafting for Eunoia than I do anything else, but the little following it's picked up has made it worth more to me than all the kudos and comments on "honey.")

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! I used to be terrible about it, mostly because the vast majority of comments I once got was hate (I wrote for a weirdly unpopular wlw pairing). Now I make it a point to respond to every single one when I can, even the short ones, to thank them for taking the time. It means so much.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It was a drabble for the r/dragonage writing thread, actually! The premise was a font in the Black Emporium that would show your OC the outcome of a decision made differently. I wrote Eliana Lavellan from Eunoia discovering what would have happened if she'd fought with Solas in Crestwood until he told her the truth... and its outcome was worse than the timeline where he left her and kept his secret. You can read it here (it's about 1200 words, nice and short).

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My various Solavellan pairings don't get happy endings. Evelyn Lavellan was more of a narrative tool to explore Solas with, so her ending was cut short. Eliana doesn't have her ending yet, but it will be bitter and painful. My happiest ending was for my Bella/Rosalie pairing for Twilight - Bella became a vampire and lived happily ever after with her wife.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't, unfortunately! Since my days on tumblr and FFNet, S*perWh*L*ck left a terrible taste in my mouth when it came to crossovers. I'd be open to it one day if I can find fandoms chill enough.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

As I previously mentioned, yes. In my Bella/Rosalie fic, I made it a point for Rosalie to love all the parts of Bella that weren't conventionally beautiful. My Bella is also a dark-skinned black woman, and the intersection of racism, colorism, and misogyny where it concerns attractiveness was something I thought worth including because I didn't see enough of it in fic. I wanted to highlight all the things that don't get enough attention or are actively reviled, like hyperpigmentation, stretch marks, natural hair, soft bellies, areolas and vulvas that aren't perfectly symmetrical or small, pubic hair and armpit hair and little hairs around nipples - things that I love about AFAB people! I got a lot of comments on my smut chapters calling Bella disgusting, or me nasty for choosing to include those traits. I deleted every single one.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So much. I love exploring pairings or power dynamics that people wouldn't necessarily consider, like a strong female warrior Lavellan domming Solas, or Solas topping Blackwall. I wanted to show a black woman in an interracial relationship with a white woman where she got to be soft and loved gently, where she got to be quiet, bookish, and looked after instead of expected to be the loud, strong stereotype that we pin black women into. I wanted to show the power of masculinity in an elven mage who loves a warrior woman (Solas/Cass), or the nurturing side of domming in a relationship between a pan giant and a bisexual elf (Iron Bull/Solas).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, tbh. I turn up to fandoms a decade late, so usually by the time I get any traction the fic-stealers have done their dirty work and leave me alone.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't! I hope to one day write a fic in Greek for my best friend, though. They deserve to read about Solas in their mother-tongue.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but have done some plotting with aforesaid Greek friend.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Solavellan, absolutely. Any variation, honestly - I've loved m!Solavellan, f!Solavellan, as well as any variation including nonbinary, trans, or other interpretation of the relationship. Solas sees and loves the spirit, and I love the idea that its vessel doesn't matter so much to him. I headcanon him as a he/him agender bisexual, for what it's worth.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I've technically marked i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted as complete, but it cuts off right before Adamant and was intended to be a full Solavellan story. However, I just didn't care for my rogue f!Lavellan OC very much, and didn't think she matched Solas well. I developed an OC that I enjoyed writing much better and rolled with it. So, I'm sorry Evelyn Lavellan, but your story is frozen with the two of you happy in bed. Solas will never break up with her so long as I don't write that part, right?

What are your writing strengths?

I love dialogue and crafting character voices! Getting a comment that I've managed to portray a favorite character so well that they can hear their voice in their head as they read? Priceless.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Exposition vs description. I want to show instead of tell, but developing the right environment for a scene can be tough for me. It's so much easier to write that the characters are cold and the ground is wet than to wax poetic about dripping leaves and frosty air. But I'm working on it.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'm obsessed with it. I love little bits sprinkled through that make sense with context, and culturally speaking it would feel wrong not to sometimes! I'm also the type of person that's always been obsessed with languages, and instead of becoming fluent in one I've learned a smattering of a whole lot. So any opportunity to sneak in some French, Welsh, German when it makes sense? I'm taking it. And don't even get me started on Elvhen or Qunlat because I will sprinkle that shit like biodegradable glitter.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Okay I'm gonna flout this question and just write my fandoms in order:

Sherlock (circa 2010 - 2014)

Skyrim (2016)

Twilight (obsessed from 2005 - 2010 but didn't write for it until 2019 or 2020 when Midnight Sun released)

Dragon Age (March 2021 and easily the most fanfic I've ever written ever)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite one to write was probably i'd wanna be felled by you, but my favorite to reread is Eunoia. It's most likely the most honest, least presumptuous thing I've ever written, and it's easily the longest thing I've ever attempted. I'm very proud of it.

As far as tagging goes, I've been very rude lately with it by tagging people late in the day, or tagging folks that I haven't tagged before, and am still refiguring out tumblr etiquette (since I haven't been here since the days of the skeleton war and the Mishapocalypse lmao), so presume if you see this you're tagged to participate. With no expectations nor pressure, though, I'll tag @dreadfutures, @varric-tethras-editor and @blarfkey if they'd like. <3

[sevfanfic]

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 8: Trust Me

Thank you all for being so patient! I’ve been super busy with work and other bullshit but I hope you enjoy this chapter :”) 

Word count: 2,212 

Warning: SMUT, NSFW

It was a busy week of midterms. You found yourself preoccupied with last minute grading and anxious students with endless questions. One evening while reviewing papers your concentration was interrupted by thoughts of Severus. You held your breath as the feelings of that night flooded your body. The taste of his lips lingered like the bold scent of smoke from a fire. You brought your hand to your mouth and the tips of your fingers tingled.

Soon you gave up on grading and made your way to Severus’ office. You had to see him. In your mind you made up an excuse for the visit but you paused at the door when you heard his intense voice hissing at someone. 

“How could you show her that?” He sounded enraged.

“She deserves to know, Severus.” Mcgonagall said matter-of-factly. “You’ve seen her power. The Ministry will be watching her, watching us.” You stood outside the door listening intently. Severus was quiet for some time.

“I do not care about The Ministry and their paranoid antics.” His voice was low and sounded more like a growl. 

“I know that, Severus. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“Don’t.”

There was a pause in the conversation. You pressed your ear against the cold wood. You felt bad for eavesdropping but they were talking about you and countless questions raced through your mind. 

“You know better than anyone, Severus, her potential. We must ensure the past does not repeat itself.” There was another pause and then you heard footsteps approaching the door. The sudden fear in your chest reminded you that you were about to be caught. You quickly found a place to hide and watched Minerva leave the office and walk away. The conversation you heard left you feeling confused. 

You thought it was best to leave him alone for now so you went to your room and got ready for bed. It had been a long day and your body felt exhausted but you couldn’t keep your eyes closed. Thoughts about what had been said in Severus’ office kept you awake. You quit trying to sleep and went to sit in front of the fire. What did she mean about keeping the past from repeating itself? And what are Severus’ feelings for me? He kissed me but we were drunk, was it a mistake?  A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. 

Severus had been struggling with the thought of you knowing the truth about him. His past was full of darkness and he preferred to keep it secret. The mark on his arm and the evil he was entangled with brought him nothing but shame. He was almost certain that you would hate him now that you knew everything. The pain in his chest intensified as he approached your quarters. He had to speak with you, help you to understand but he was wary. Why had you been so nice to him? Was it pity for his sorry existence? He had planned out what he wanted to say to you but forgot everything when you opened the door. The glow in your cheeks and the curve of your lips reminded him of the kiss you shared. He felt foolish for just standing there staring at you but you made him this way. The very sight of you left him dazed in a way he had never felt before. 

“Y/N, I-”

“Wait,” you interrupted, “I just want you to know that I am truly sorry for going behind your back and asking Minerva about your past. I’d completely understand you’re upset with me but I don’t care about any of it.” You paused and watched the confused look grow on his face. “Well I do care but what I mean is that it doesn’t bother me that you were a death eater because I know that you are a good person and you were willing to sacrifice so much to help win the war and-” You realized at this point that you were babbling so you stopped yourself. Severus looked at you with a raised brow and when he opened his mouth to speak you added, “What I’m trying to say is you’re the bravest man I know and I very much enjoy spending time with you.” Your cheeks flushed.

“Are you finished?” He asked quietly.

“Yes.” You nodded, eager to hear what he was going to say.

“Good. I came to apologize for not being able to tell you my story myself, I would’ve preferred that you heard it from me but I am not upset with you.” 

“You’re not? But I eavesdropped on you and-”

“I’m not upset.” Severus grinned and how relieved you looked. 

“Thank goodness,” you sighed, “I was so worried that I couldn’t sleep and-” You were interrupted by the touch of Severus’ lips against yours. His hands held your cheeks as you melted against him. It was a welcome surprise and the small gasp that left you when he pulled away made him smile.

“You talk too much.” He chuckled and for a moment you saw happiness in his dark eyes.

“I know.” Was all you answer before he pulled you close and kissed you deeply. His tongue found its way into your mouth and you pushed yours into his. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he stepped closer and grasped at your waist. The motion brought you completely into your room and he closed the door behind him. With one swift motion he lifted you and brought his hands to your thighs pulling them so your legs wrapped around him and then turned to press you against the door. A surprised moan escaped from you when you felt the growing erection in his pants against you. He smiled devilishly and kissed you again with fierce movements that left you breathless. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs and you moaned against his lips. He started to move his kisses to your jaw and then to your neck.

“Severus,” you gasped at all of the sensations that overwhelmed you, “Severus, wait.” He looked up at you with concern in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, we can stop.” He set you down quickly.

“No,” you smiled, “I just wanted you to know that I really care for you and I would never judge you for your past.” 

He looked at you trying to find the lie but there was none. You meant every word and his heart swelled. He kissed you again gently and caressed your face lovingly. 

“That means more to me than you’ll ever know.” The look in his eyes was warm and he pulled you against his chest. 

Severus then wrapped his arms around your back and lifted you with ease. The look in his eye was deliciously naughty and you bit your lip as he walked you to his bed. He threw you down and admired your flushed appearance before he began undressing you. As he removed the layers of fabric he planted soft kisses on your exposed skin. When you were completely bare he paused again to appreciate the curves of your body. 

“You just gonna stare at me?” You asked playfully and propped yourself up on your elbows.

“I could stare at you all day.” He looked you over once more and then began to unbutton his shirt and then his pants. With that he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over you. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. His hand squeezed your breast and you moaned. He kissed at your neck and moved down to your shoulder and kissed along your collarbone. Then he flicked his tongue against your hard nipple. The sensation sent a tingling sensation down your spine. He moved back up to your lips and pressed another kiss against them before pulling away to look in your eyes. You felt his fingers gently brush over your clit. You gasped at the feeling. 

“Please, Severus.” You whined and he raised a brow. He then slid his hand over your wet entrance and pressed a finger into you. 

“You are so impatient.” He smiled mischievously as he slipped another finger into you. You whimpered softly as he pulled them out and pushed back in deeper. He did this a few more times before pulling his fingers out of you and brought them to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently as if he told you to and the look in his eye made your heart skip a beat. It was like a fire had been lit. With a swift motion he positioned you so your hips were tilted up towards him and he used one hand to guide his cock into you. The moan that escaped from your mouth was the most exquisite sound Severus had ever heard. He was bigger than you expected but as he began thrusting in and out the pain quickly turned to pleasure. 

“Severus,” you moaned his name and took his lower lip in your teeth. He grimaced and began thrusting faster. His cock pounded the delicate spot inside you. The blissful feeling made you throw your head back with a loud moan and shudder with pleasure. 

“Please don’t stop.” You clawed at his back and as you dug your nails in Severus growled. He positioned his arms around your shoulders so his body was against yours, he buried his face in your neck and held you firmly as he slammed his cock into you. His breath warmed your neck as he panted and whispered dirty desires in your ear. You felt an explosion of euphoria as you climaxed and grinded your hips up so his dick went deeper. 

“Oh, Severus!” you cried out as he continued to fuck you making you ride out your release until all you could do was quiver beneath him. With a few final thrusts he climaxed inside you and filled you with warmth.

“Fuck.” He sighed as he pulled out and laid beside you. 

“Wow.” You laughed as you caught your breath. Severus looked at you and smiled. His heart was filled with happiness, more than he’s felt in a long time. He pulled you close and you rested your head against his chest. You fell asleep in his arms and he felt something growing in his heart for you that he never thought would be there for anyone. 

The next morning you awake to the sound of soft snoring. You had forgotten for a moment who was next to you but when you looked up to see Severus’ peaceful sleeping face you smiled. Memories of last night made your heart pound in your chest. You untangled yourself from his arms and he stirred. As he opened his eyes he grinned softly at you. 

“Good morning.” he spoke lazily.

“Good morning,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek, “sleep well?” 

“Yes.” He stretched his arms out and wrapped one around you so he could pull you close again. He held you against his chest and you listened to the soothing sound of his heart beat beneath your cheek.

“Yesterday, when I overheard you and Minerva talking,” you paused, worried that your question would anger him. You were dying to know what she meant when she said The Ministry would be watching you.’

“Mhm?” he encouraged you to continue.

“Why would The Ministry be watching me? What did she mean by preventing the past from repeating itself?” 

“You shouldn’t worry about that, Y/N.” You felt his body tense as he spoke.

“Just tell me the truth Severus.” You lifted your head and looked at him. He shifted and pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed.

“The truth is, when you performed that healing spell The Ministry took notice. They have  been on edge since the end of the war and anyone who shows a certain… potential, is monitored closely in case,” he stopped and looked at you.

“In case I’m evil,” you nodded in bitter realization, “I get it.” 

“Y/N, I know you’re not but Minerva insisted that we keep an eye on you so-”

“So is that what you’ve been doing? Keeping an eye on me in case I’m actually some monster?” 

“If that’s what you think this was then you’re wrong. I would never use you like that.” His brow furrowed as he attempted to explain himself. But all you felt was anger and confusion. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” It was a valid question. He had deceived Voldemort after all. But the look of betrayal on his face broke your heart into a million pieces. You didn’t mean to hurt him. It was too late though, he looked away from you and shielded himself again. The walls that you had carefully brought down were immediately built back up. 

“You don’t.” Severus began to gather his garments and dressed himself.

“Severus, please. I just want you to trust me.” You pleaded with him, hoping that he’d stay.

“And I thought you trusted me.” He snapped at you then turned to leave. You didn’t stop him. It would’ve been pointless. You had hurt him when he was vulnerable. He wouldn’t forgive you so easily. 

[justmaybee]

To Stop a Fight (Before It Starts)

Summary: Jiro and Saburo have been acting strange recently. Ichiro is about to find out why.

A/N: Y’know when you get an idea that just won’t leave you alone till you do something about it? Yeah, that’s this. Buster Bros too, who would’ve thought?

———

Ichiro is confused — very, very confused.

Like, he can’t pretend he understands his brothers all the time, twenty four-seven. Sometimes Saburo gets all technical, talking jargon Ichiro’s never heard of. Sometimes Jiro gets overexcited, speaking so fast that his stories get jumbled up and hard to follow. It doesn’t matter, Ichiro will always lend an ear and hear them out.

But he can’t do that if they’re...hiding something from him.

The thought inches its way into Ichiro’s head, and it makes his stomach turn. He presses his lips together against the small wave of nausea.

It just doesn’t sound right. Jiro? Saburo? Hiding something from him?

He may not understand his brothers all the time, but they’re everything to him. He knows them better than anyone, and vice versa. It’s them against the world.

So the idea that they’re keeping something from him is...off-putting.

He links his fingers, pushing them up over his head. The crack in his spine alleviates a load of pressure on his back and the relief is audible in his groan. He’s not cut out for all this computer work. Saburo really is a talented kid.

He stands up, wobbling for a second, before stepping out from behind the desk. Research can wait, he needs a snack.

He steps over to a cabinet, stuffed full of junk foods. Not the healthiest thing, but you grab what you can when you’re working on a job. He stares blankly at the bags and boxes, slipping back into thought.

He’s definitely being a little dramatic. They still get together and throw around some lines for practice every night. His brothers still come to him whenever something’s happened at school or during a mission. They live together, of course, and if it were a really big deal they’d have a hard time hiding something even if they wanted to.

Sometimes Ichiro can get a little tired of their bickering and back and forth, but he likes to think he’s become someone reliable, especially to his little brothers.

So no, he’s not that worried.

But then what has been up with them recently?

He only started noticing this last week, but a part of him thinks it could be stretching back further than that. A bunch of separate events, but he knows they have to be connected. Call it a hunch. It just all revolves around those two fighting and then going silent.

Like a week ago, Ichiro remembers them kicking around a soccer ball on the street. The way Jiro’s eyes lit up when they saw it, a little deflated and worse for wear off to the side, made Ichiro laugh. And neither him nor Saburo could even dream about outplaying Jiro, but that wouldn’t stop them from trying.

It was a lot of fun, more fun than Ichiro could’ve thought really. And by the time the sun was getting low, and Ichiro was calling out that they’d have to head home, both him and Saburo were feeling a little worn out. Jiro was still dribbling the ball like he could do it all night.

And of course, Jiro decided to shoot a cocky comment to Saburo, who lashed back immediately, always ready for a fight. Ichiro’s lived through a million of these squabbles and he’s sure to see a million more, so he didn’t give it much attention, heading down the street back to their place.

He had no doubt that they’d follow behind, but he did turn to peek when he heard a shout from Jiro. He was afraid Saburo had started pinching him again, but that wasn’t the case. At least, he didn’t think so.

Because what he saw was Jiro doing a fast jog to catch up to him, while Saburo stepped at a leisurely place behind. Not weird, but the wide-eyed expression on Jiro’s face and the satisfied smirk on Saburo’s made Ichiro a little suspicious.

Fast forward to the weekend. Two? Maybe three days ago? Jiro and Saburo were giving Ichiro the run down of a job they had finished up. Nothing too crazy, but enough that Ichiro felt more comfortable sending them out as a pair.

The job itself went off without a hitch, as expected, but the debrief was chaotic in its own right. Jiro gave most of the points, but Saburo was very generous with his corrections and notes. Sometimes they were helpful, more often than not they were nitpicks that had Ichiro wanting to laugh and sigh at the same time.

Jiro was starting to get a little flustered, eyes narrowing in annoyance by the end. When Saburo gave another quip, it looked like Jiro was really ready to grab a pillow off the couch and slug him with it.

Instead...

“Nii-chan, I think my phone’s about to die. Could you hand me the charger?”

Ah, yeah. Jiro’s phone did have a battery issue. They should really think about upgrading it.

Ichiro spun around in his chair, looking over the back desk for a charger and jumping in his seat at a pitchy yell from Saburo. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the cord, ready to lecture Jiro on why smothering Saburo with a pillow is not a good comeback but—

Jiro...wasn’t smothering Saburo with a pillow. Surprisingly. No, he was sitting back against the couch, arms crossed with a smile on his face that made Ichiro immediately check up on their youngest brother.

He was...fine.

A little pouty, hair maybe a little mussed up. Also leaning back against the couch, but his posture—

He was almost—how to put it—curled up?

Ichiro can’t remember if he had his feet up on the couch before, but between his knees being pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them...

Jiro chose that moment to keep explaining, so Ichiro gave him his full attention. But he started picking up on their pattern.

The three of them are together. Either Jiro or Saburo starts picking on the other (nothing new there). Then one of them shouts, like they’re about to start yelling at each other, but—

Nothing. Silence.

They break up the fight before it’s even happened. And Ichiro doesn’t have to say a word.

This should be a good thing. It is a good thing.

Right?

It means they’re maturing. Growing up. Taking Ichiro’s words to heart and moving past their constant bickering and fights...

Ichiro shuts the cupboard. With a little more...force than necessary, if the avalanche of snacks he can hear means anything.

Okay, so he’s not exactly sure what any of it means, but he is sure of one thing.

He spins around to shut the computer off. Everything is saved, and Saburo can get back anything that isn’t anyways. He kicks the chair in place and grabs his keys, spinning them around one finger as he steps towards the door.

He needs to see his brothers.

———

Ichiro loves their city, loves Ikebukuro with all he’s got, but there’s nothing quite like their own home. It took a lot of time and money. It took doing things he hopes his brothers will never have to stoop to. But it’s theirs, and Ichiro can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief whenever he steps through the door.

Tonight though he’s cut off by a scream that has his blood running cold.

He doesn’t kick off his shoes. Doesn’t shrug off his jacket. He sprints towards the noise, grabbing at his pockets until his fingers stop fumbling enough to hold his mic.

The rubber of his shoes catch him from sliding on the floor when he stops dead in front of their living room.

“Ji-Jirohohoho! Would you—ack—quihihiHIHIHIHIT!”

It’s, um—

They’re—um—

Ichiro’s sigh of relief is a lot louder this time, slipping his mic back into his pocket.

It’s loud enough that it’s somehow heard over Saburo’s squealing, and Jiro turns to see his older brother leaning against the entrance.

It’s kind of funny, now that Ichiro’s adrenaline has calmed down.

Jiro looks like he’s been caught red-handed, even though Saburo is the one with a tomato for a face right now. He pulls his hands out from under Saburo’s sweater, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

Saburo takes the chance to roll onto his side, hands clutching at his stomach. The shrieking Ichiro heard when he came in dulls to tired giggles.

“Oh, uh, hi.” Jiro waves. He tries to act nonchalant, but he looks more embarrassed than Saburo whose hoodie is still bunched up at the waist.

Ichiro smiles back, “Hey.”

Jiro is yanked from the one-sided, awkward conversation, but Ichiro can’t say it’s the better choice for Jiro.

Jiro yelps as he’s full-body tackled, falling backward over the other side of the couch. Saburo’s panting for breath, and he probably can’t see much past the mess of his bangs, but he doesn’t seem to have any trouble latching a hand onto Jiro’s knees and squeezing.

“Ah, wha-! Sabu—no! Saburohohohoho!”

Suburo’s response is the same treatment on the other leg, and Jiro makes a squeaking sound before he’s cackling. He twists against the cushion but he can’t seem to get himself up enough to push Saburo away from where he’s straddling his shins.

Like Ichiro isn’t even there, they treat it like a war zone, going back and forth with a familiarity that has their oldest brother shocked.

“No—no! Jiro, dohon’t! You’re gonna stretch out my—my shihihihihihirt!”

“Ouch! Not fair, Saburo! No pinch—ah! No PINCHIHIHIHIHING!”

“JIRO! No, I-I swear, I’m gonnahaha — I’m gonna kihihiHIHIHIHICK YOHOHOHOU!”

“Nah! No! I’m—I’m sorry! You win! Just—No! Not thehehehehere!”

At some point Saburo’s head is hanging off the arm of the couch while Jiro drills his thumbs into his ribs. Through watery eyes, he finally sees Ichiro, watching them like they’re the entertainment for tonight. He’s can’t possibly be in the right state of mind, and that’s probably why he makes the biggest mistake possible.

“I-Ichi-niihihihihihihi! H-help!”

Ichiro coughs to cover his own laugh, though Saburo’s scream when Jiro’s hands find their way under his arms does the job pretty well.

Guess it’s his turn to join.

Jiro’s confused noise gets cut off when his back hits the couch, bouncing once off the cushions. Saburo is still giggling weakly beside him, so that means—

He gasps so suddenly he almost chokes on it, and only a garbled version of Ichiro’s name comes out before he’s squealing louder than even Saburo could.

His hands push, pull, grab weakly at Ichiro’s hand latched onto his hip. He didn’t even know he was ticklish there, but the bright laughter that bursts from his mouth and has his eyes watering makes that so clear so quickly.

Ichiro chuckles, watching Jiro shake his head back and forth, red cheeks hidden by his wild mane of hair. Ichiro’s only using one hand, but Jiro might be the loudest he’s been all night. Even as he sinks against the couch—slipping down because of weakness, gravity, maybe both—Ichiro is able to keep him in stitches.

Speaking of one hand.

With Saburo laying back over the arm of the couch, it’s pretty easy for Ichiro to slip a hand under the gap in his shirt and start vibrating his fingertips into the taut skin of his stomach.

Saburo again proves how good he is at everything he does when he shrieks, loudly. His lung capacity is really something. His head flies up for a moment, but the weight of gravity and his own exhaustion keep him from getting all the way. He has to settle for wrapping both hands around Ichiro’s wrist and kicking his heels against the couch, as if that’ll help calm the ticklish buzzing of Ichiro’s fingers against his skin.

It’s something like fate when they both call for mercy at the same time, cries of “Nii-chan!” and “Ichi-nii!” just legible through the hysterical laughter.

Ichiro pulls his hands back with a little pat against the prickling skin. The pair droop so quickly, Ichiro has to be quick to catch them before either slip to the floor. He drags Jiro upright, and moves Saburo to sit against the couch properly.

He ends up leaning against Jiro while they catch their breath. Ichiro tries not to smile, like they’d even notice if he did.

“Okay. Two questions,” Ichiro starts once his brothers look a little less ragged. He knows they’re good when Jiro nudges Saburo off him, Saburo shooting a stink face his direction.

“How did this happen, and why wasn’t I invited?” The way his brothers avoid eye contact at his second question is too funny.

“...Well,” Saburo starts, fixing his bangs to look at Ichiro properly. “You were upset the last time we got ‘too violent’ with each other, so next time Jiro said something stupid I just—“

“—decided to be a smartass and do something that ‘wouldn’t hurt,’” Jiro scoffs, finishing for them.

Ichiro laughs aloud at that one, and—even after everything—it isn’t long before the other two join in.

“And we—um—didn’t ‘invite you’ because we didn’t think you’d want to,” Saburo mumbles.

“—or that you’d be so good at it,” Jiro mutters, hand rubbing subconsciously at his hip.

Ichiro claps a hand on both of their legs, only smirking a little when it makes them jump in their seats.

“It’s been a while, but I do have some experience in tickling you both to tears,” Ichiro smiles.

“That makes sense,” Saburo mumbles. Jiro nods, looking at the carpet.

“But Ichi-nii,” Saburo asks, always thinking one step ahead. “Are...you ticklish?”

Hm, all the times Ichiro had tickled his brothers when they were younger, he never had to worry about taking what he dished out.

But now, it looks like Jiro and Saburo have found something they’re willing to work out together.

Um, g-good for them.

[imaginesbymk]

“There is no Goodbye.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Nothing is more ironic than Eugene breaking up with you just for the sake of sparing you the heartbreak if he were to die at war. But when he’s lucky to return home to Mobile, his first mission is to find you. Will Eugene be able to win you back before someone else does?

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: angst/breakup, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of an ethnic slur + mentions of war violence

Word Count: 3,016

Author’s Note: song inspiration for this oneshot is wait by m83!!! i totally recommend this song cos its so beautiful!! pls give this a like/reblog and maybe some feedback!! <333

YOU were sick of crying in your pillow every night. You were aware of how puffy your eyes must have been by now, you acknowledged your friends who called and visited, checking on you, but not even that helped soothe the heartache in you. His name just kept echoing in your mind and replayed, finding their way into your sleep. You wished you hated Eugene Sledge, but deep down in your heart- you just couldn’t.

Three knocks came on your bedroom door. “Y/n, your food’s getting cold,” you heard your mother from the other side.

“I’m not hungry.” You couldn’t remember the amount of times you’ve used that as an excuse to stay where you were, depressed and heartbroken. 

Eugene broke up with you on a Sunday night. You two were dressed for the occasion; a dinner party was held at a grand convention center that was known and popular by several Alabamians. You wore the necklace Eugene got you as a gift, and you loved showing it off. In fact, you wore it every day to remind yourself, your family and your friends that Eugene Sledge was the love of your life. 

Later you noticed how strange he was acting the whole dinner, how quiet and tense he got so suddenly. His hand would slip away whenever you held it while walking, or when they were held under the table. It was like he was trying to hold something back, like a cat catching his tongue. Then, you found him outside, leaning against the stairway. 

“What is it, Eugene?” 

He paused every time he looked at you, how it pained him to say what he needed to say. Whether it was now or never, he leaves for the train in a couple of days.

“Wait a minute, Eugene,” You remembered your body turning cold as ice, but not from the night breeze. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Oh how you wished he was kidding, but the look on his face read that he wasn’t in the slightest. He was joining the marines corps, despite his heart murmur and his father and brother encouraging him to go to college instead. He flunked out of his classes on purpose just to enlist, and since only God knows what fate lies ahead, he felt it was best to put a stop to the relationship.

It wasn’t your right to be angry about his choices sometimes. He was in his twenties now, old enough to make up his mind. He was fighting for everyone’s freedom, after all, which is probably the bravest thing Eugene is doing. However, you didn’t understand why. Eugene was a believer, he believed in God and miracles. He asked God to send him a miracle through prayer in his own time, and they were answered in the form of you. So why couldn’t he believe in the stable relationship you both can still have even when he’s off to fight?

As expected, you didn’t take it too well. Right there, you broke down in front of him. Eugene walked over and reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, but you shoved him away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You angrily ripped the necklace off of you and threw it at him before running off in tears. He never chased after you.

You dared not to go back inside the dining hall where your family and friends were, as well as his, so you walked home by yourself without waiting for anyone to catch up with you. He was going mad, you bet. Enlisting in the marines was one thing, but calling it quits on your relationship?

That was the last time you saw Eugene. He didn’t wait to see if you would turn up at the train station, begging him to have a change of heart. He never saw you there, and he boarded the train to California.

What were you more upset about: the love of your life dumping you, or the chances of the love of your life dying?

THE year was now 1945, and Eugene sat in the passenger seat in Sid’s mobile when he picked him up from the station. 

The Japanese surrendered, and the boys back at the islands held a celebration with drinking, bonfires and loud music. Eugene, Snafu and Burgin sat on the rocks, watching the night sky, contemplating their return to home.

Victory Day was now nighttime, Eugene blew out smoke from his pipe, counting the stars. His tiny bible that was pocketed in his dungarees was pulled out, using the distant lit fires as a light to read through the tallied marks from the book of Genesis to Thessalonians, then out came a piece of paper that fell onto his lap. 

He picked it up and unfolded it, taking another puff from his pipe. Eugene reads the first two words. 

Dear y/n

The letter was never delivered to you because it was a letter Eugene had never sent, in fact it was never finished. He never got his first sentence down as they were ordered to get their gear ready to move down Okinawa. He never wrote a letter to you at all for the rest of his time serving, because he knew he wouldn’t be receiving one back.

Snafu slapped him awake one night and told him to shut up because he kept saying your name in his sleep. Eugene sounded desperate and panicked when he said it, too, and if the volume increased, it would have given away their spot. The marine was lucky it was a slap in the face rather than a bullet to the skull. 

The next day, Snafu asked Eugene for two things: a light, and who “y/n” was.

“She was my girl,” Eugene handed a lighter to Snafu to light his cigarette.

“Was.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home just for a man in uniform to come to her door to tell her I’ve been KIA.”

“Shit, so you dumped her?” Snafu grins. “Should of given her to me, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene didn’t laugh. It was an inappropriate joke, no surprise coming from Snafu himself. He sat in the filth in silence, his bloodied and dirty hands holding your gold necklace that you threw at him. He brought it with him to war, and kept it as a bookmark in his Bible.

Eugene’s home was the same as he had left it, he knew that when Sid pulled up at the long pathway at the gates. Georgia cottage was indeed a sight, and Eugene loved it so much as a child. It was spacious with nature and trees to walk his dog, a forest down the road to go hunting and fishing with his father, a meadow where he would take you on a warm day.

Sid sat in the parked car for a few moments, Eugene hadn't started walking to the front door just yet. “I visited her,” Sid broke the silence. “Just like I promised.”

Eugene had to ask, “How is she?”

“I was starting to think she had forgotten about you... that was until I showed up at her door,” he replies. “It was tense, but she’s doing all right.”

Eugene nods, smiling a bit. He trusted his best friend to check up on you for him. At least you were doing fine, according to Sid’s words. "No crying?”

“She don’t cry no more. I introduced her to Mary Houston and invited her to my wedding- if that’s alright with you.”

He chuckled, making a face. “Why would I not be? It’s your wedding, you greaser.”

“Well one, and you should probably take my word for it, Y/N still hates your guts,” he said. “And two, whether or not she speaks to you at all on my wedding day, at least I’ll have you there as my best man.” Sid noticed the look on his best friend’s face. “There’s the O.O.M ball coming up. Y/n’s gonna be there.”

He smiles at him. “See you later?”

“Welcome home, Eugene.” And he drives off, prompting Eugene to reunite with his parents.

[x]

SHOWING up to the O.O.M ball immediately made you feel bummed. You showed up without a date. You shouldn’t have the right to feel bummed, anyway. You turned down any guy that had asked you. You could have said yes, but something in your heart was telling you no, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Sighing, you suddenly didn’t feel like going to the bar for a second drink, and you just didn’t like waiting until your friends weren’t with their dates to go up to talk to them, so you found yourself heading outside to the front. It’s not like you could escape the guests, as tables and chairs were set outside occupied with more people, and even more people standing around and chatting with their friends.

You leaned over a tree where you felt like no one could see you for approach, being able to hear the loud music from the inside. But for what? You could just leave and say you felt sick. What were you waiting for? 

Several years had gone by since he left, and nothing about you has changed. Your hair grew a bit after a slight trim, and so has your wardrobe. Your dress was pretty expensive, and no one complimented it. You just needed someone to come up to you and say- 

“You look beautiful.” 

You spun around, knowing that Southern accent all too well. Not a lot of alcohol was consumed, so asking yourself if you drank too much that you started to see and hear things was out of the question. How did he know where to find you? How was he able to sneak up on you like how he used to as a surprise? He’d always do that, then pick you up and spin you around with joy. But this time, he stood in front of you, gazing at you like a painting.

Your vision started blurring.

“Y/n?” he thought you were having a stroke in front of him, and he reached out his hand. “Y/n?”

“Gimme a minute.” You breathed heavily, gripping the tree for support. Maybe you were about to faint in shock. After picking up your senses, you were able to respond. “Eugene,” you said softly. “You’re here.”

He nodded. “In the flesh.” You really couldn’t believe it. Maybe you were seeing and hearing things. But he was here. Eugene Sledge was really here, standing before you, and not a scratch on his face. His hair was fixed, too, and you could tell he was now in greater shape.

“How was...” you felt like you shouldn’t ask for so many reasons. “I mean, you made it. You’re home.”

“At last,” he answered, placing his wooden pipe in his mouth. “What are you doing all the way over here? Your date’s probably searching all of Mobile for you.”

“I don’t have a date,” you shook your head. “I mean, I came alone. I didn’t bring anyone.”

“You too?” he blew out smoke.

“Yeah. Um-” all it took was for you to breath in and crunch your nose from the awful stench of nicotine that everyone was so used to. “Since when did you start smoking?” 

He shrugged. “Since I killed my first Jap. Helps me calm down.”

"Well... I’m talking to you and you’re blowing smoke right in my face.”

Eugene nodded, taking the pipe out. “Sorry. How have you been?”

“Good.”

Eugene furrowed his brows. “That’s it? Just good?”

“I mean, what else would you expect me to say?”

“You’ve completed your education, you’re engaged, you and your partner are buying a house?”

“Jesus, Eugene. It’s way too early for that. I can’t even drive.”

“I’m kidding. I can only assume you’re in complete shock. I can’t say I’m not surprised,” Eugene says. “I can also assume you hated me as soon as you threw the necklace I gave you right at me.”

“And I still hate you.”

He looks at you, scoffing. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “You dump me and leave to join the marine corps, I wrote you a letter on your birthday and you never wrote back, every time I see your parents at the market they look at me like I’m the face of death. You shouldn’t have come here, I was doing just fine.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his eyebrows. The nonsense coming out that mouth. If only Eugene could kiss them shut. "All right. Heard you spoke with Sid.”

“Yeah, and? He invited me to his wedding."

“And he asked me to be his best man. So you might as well hold in your punch until the wedding is over.”

Your blood started to boil. Maybe you haven’t changed, but the war did indeed change the hell out of him. This attitude he carried wasn’t impressing you one bit. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem? I’m trying to have a conversation with you, y/n.”

“And you’re acting as if I’m the reason you dumped me.”

“I had my reasons,” he spoke back,

“Damn you, Eugene Sledge!” you slapped him repeatedly on his chest and shoulder. “Damn you for hurting me like that! Damn you for not writing to me! Damn you for leaving me!”

You cried out, as he simply stared and did his best to restrain your arms away from hitting him once more. 

He never spoke a word until you calmed down. Then, you realized... “Oh God, Eugene. I’m so sorry,” you gasp. “I would never lay a hand on you.”

“A Jap tried to kill me with a bayonet,” Eugene said. “I kinda had that slap coming.”

You let a tear fall down your cheek, and you looked down so Eugene wouldn’t be able to notice, but he was smart enough to know. “Baby... it’s okay. I’m here now.” He pulled you close and held you. You haven’t felt his touch since that night. You were overcome with the nostalgia during the happy times, and even the sad times. He would hold you like you were gonna slip right out of his hands.

“I’ve missed you so much, y/n. There hasn’t been a night where I haven’t dreamt about you, where I would die, or where I would watch you marry a man who doesn’t know you the way I do.”

“Eugene... you broke my heart and just stomped on it like mud.”

“And you had every right to be hurt, but that was never my intention, I just did what I thought was the right thing.” He played with the curls in your hair and kissed you softly on your temple.

It wasn’t like it was a last minute decision. Regardless his heart murmur was there or not, he wasn’t going to stay home and attend classes. Breaking up with you wasn’t last minute, either. 

“I guess I should have been more understanding,” you admit, leaning back against the tree. 

“I spent nights trying to come up with what I was going to say, and when I was planning on saying it. I used to worry about the murmur, if I’d remember to feed Deacon, or telling my Mother about my plans for the future.”

“You weren’t sure about any of those things, Gene.”

“Seeing your face that night made me realize I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love you,” Eugene shook his head slowly. “I was definitely sure about that.”

“Loved,” you correct him.

“No, y/n. Love. I still love you, more than the stars reach the apex of this goddamn universe. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop loving you. You’re really the answer God has given me after endless nights of praying for something good.”

“Then why didn’t you write me?”

“I had to find a way to move on. If it distracted me from fighting, I would have been as good as dead. Something in me died from the war, but the feelings I have for you are still here.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit. “I love you more, Eugene.”

“So I hope it’s not too late to ask this,” Eugene said. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, are you seeing anyone?”

You shook your head.

He raised his brows. “So for nearly four years, you haven’t been seeing anyone? Not one fella?”

“I tried to. I mean, I kept thinking you slept with a nurse.”

“Women weren’t even in my corner of the pacific, and nurses were there to do their jobs. Besides,” Eugene smiled. “I’d rather come home to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known in Mobile.”

“Mary Houston?”

Eugene laughs. “I was talking about you. At least you’re humble.” He laughed harder when you started playfully slapping him on the chest repeatedly again. “Hey! But there’s no one I’d rather be with. I’m willing to start over, maybe pick up where we left off.”

“I would love that.” 

Eugene reached in his tux pocket, pulling out the golden necklace you loved wearing. “I believe this belongs to you.” He walked behind you, and began wrapping the necklace around your neck, clipping the lock together in place. “Y’know, after throwing it right at my face?”

“Sorry,” you blushed. “Don’t ever do that again; saying goodbye.”

“There is no goodbye.” He turned your head to face him using his finger under your chin. “There never was, just the old hello.”

You smiled again. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He pulls you close to him. “Is that all right?”

“You can kiss me whenever you feel like it, Gene.” And you wouldn’t mind it one bit.

“Yes, ma’am.” And he leans in, kissing you almost a dozen times now, the overcoming nostalgia of the good time hitting once more. “And once I’m done kissing the daylights outta you, I’m bringing you inside. It’s been a while since I’ve danced with the love of my life.”

the end

[jamie-leah]

War of Wolves (20)

Season 1

Episode 20- The End Is Nigh

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2425

Warnings: Violence, outbursts, mention of weight, vomiting, kidnapping, injuries, hallucinations, swearing

A/N: Okay all you Lovely people, I am hitting you with another episode thick and fast. I love you all for your support and encouragement! Enjoy this one! And come tell me if you would like to see another season of WoW? Because I have a few ideas...

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist Series Masterlist Oneshot Masterlist

A week later

YOUR POV

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. It felt like a lifetime of Isaac drugging you up, poking and prodding and taking samples.

You had been in and out of consciousness like a yoyo. Your body getting weaker every day. Isaac barely fed you saying some bullshit about experimenting how the stress affected the way your ability grew.

Any food that you did manage to eat it was another story trying to keep it down. You often found yourself dreaming or imagining conversations as if Bucky was here.

You were currently imagining being back at that restaurant with the aquarium as a wall having a meal. You were laughing at him tipping sauce down his suit when the scraping of your cell door cuts through it.

You keep your eyes closed trying to hold onto the dream as Bucky says, “looks like our dinner is about to be rudely interrupted Doll”.

You wave him off, “let him carry me, as long as I get to keep my eyes closed and see you it won’t be interrupted”.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, “and have you stop fighting against them? Come on Doll, you know I’ll be here when you get back”.

The blonde man cuts through the dream, “move”.

You open your eyes suddenly feeling the cold in your bones, “make me you curly headed fuck”.

You knew what was coming, yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to move or stop fighting him all the way to Isaac.

BUCKY’S POV

Night had fallen hours ago but Bucky stayed sitting in his office. He watched the footage again and again of you being shoved into the car and being whisked away from him. He hadn’t slept and only ate and drank out of necessity.

Sam was in the room talking on the phone trying to get information out of more informants when Steve walks into the room.

Bucky rewinds the footage again as Steve approaches, “you need to get some sleep Buck”.

Bucky ignores him, watching the footage again hoping to spot something he missed. Steve waits a few seconds before closing the lid of the laptop.

Bucky stares at where the screen was, the image of you burned into his eyes, for a few seconds. Bucky stares until he shoots up from his chair and sweeps the contents of his desk onto the floor.

“And what the fuck is sleeping gonna do Steve? Nothing! She’s out there now, on her own! Its been a fucking week and we still have nothing!”, Bucky’s chest is heaving, the strain of keeping his emotions in check showing.

Steve speaks normally, not matching Bucky’s raised voice, “and what good is staring at the footage doing? Also, nothing”.

Bucky shakes his head, “I’m not sleeping while she’s still out there going through only the devil knows what”.

Steve sighs, “you need sleep Buck, to think clearly…you know if she were hear now, she’d be saying the same thing”.

Bucky bursts again, “but she’s not Steve! She’s not here”.

Bucky doesn’t wait for empty words from Steve or Sam. Instead he strides from the room and towards the back doors.

He keeps walking until he reaches the door and pulls it open. Winter starts to get up to greet him but Bucky orders him to stay.

Bucky goes over and sits next to him just like you would. Winter sits up facing him as Bucky strokes him. After a few moments Winter whines and Bucky nods, “I miss her too boy”.

Bucky shakes his head, “its my fault she’s gone, I should have done more…she’d probably slap me for even thinking that”.

Bucky smiles at the thought of you being cross with him before saying to Winter, “Steve’s right, isn’t he? She’d tell me to sleep if she were here now”.

Bucky pats his lap and Winter settles next to him laying his head on his leg. Bucky lays his head back and closes his eyes, images of you haunting his dreams.

YOUR POV

You think about two days had passed since Isaac had sent for you. On the one hand you were grateful for the rest, but it was freezing. The only warmth you felt was in that shitty room.

You were in the corner dry heaving for the hundredth time that day. Your body was shaking violently from the cold and strain your body was going through.

Your dreams had spilled out into reality as you now conjured the image of Bucky while you were awake. He was still wearing his black suit leaning against the wall, “that’s the third time today. You need to start keeping your food down if you want to get out of here”.

You spit into the bucket, “you think I don’t know that? It’s the fucking drugs”.

You put the bucket down and go to stand but you fall instead. Bucky goes to help but stops himself, you both know he’s not real and he can’t help.

You finally manage to make it back to the bed before saying to Bucky, “you can’t find me, can you?”.

Bucky pushes off the wall, “you know I’m trying”.

You nod slightly, “I know that. I just don’t know how much longer I can live like this”.

Bucky looks alarmed, “you can’t stop fighting”.

You close your eyes, “but I’m tired Buck”.

Bucky scoffs, “you know there’s things you could be doing to help me find you”.

Your eyes snap open in anger, “yeah? Like what? In case you hadn’t noticed I’m locked in a cell”.

Bucky shrugs, “you know the more people that know you’re here the more likely it is that I can find you. Everyone has a price for information and everyone knows I’d pay anything”.

You lift your head up to look at him. He looks exactly like your Bucky but there’s something off and you’re well aware that he’s not real and none of this is healthy.

You stare at him a little longer and you realise what’s off, it’s the eyes. His eyes aren’t the same colour blue as your Bucky, “did you have something in mind?”.

You waited another day before the blonde guy came to get you again. You had gathered your strength for what you had planned.

It was the same story of the door scrapping open and his voice seconds later, “move”.

You don’t even waste energy on a reply. You just count his steps so that you can time it all perfectly. When you know he’s a step away from pulling you off the bed you twist from your foetal position and smack him in the face.

You know he’ll only be shocked for a second, so you get up and knee him in the balls to keep him down longer. You hear him grunt before falling to one knee.

You don’t wait to see if he recovers, you run. You ignore the shaking in your legs and the way your feet thud against the stone.

You run as fast as your heart would allow down the narrow corridor and passed the door that leads to Isaac. That’s when you hear the guy shout for you to stop and you nearly laugh at the absurdity of it.

You near the end of the corridor and take a sharp left down another corridor. Its just as narrow but you see a set of double doors at the end of it, the only double doors you’ve ever seen in these corridors.

Your body is screaming at the exertion, but you keep going, the image of Bucky popping up by the doors pointing to them.

You feel like you’ve been running for hours but you don’t stop as you approach the doors. You brace for the impact as your body slams into the wooden doors.

They give way followed by a loud crash of metal hitting a wooden floor. You fall and realise that a knight uniform was in front of the doors to make it look like they weren’t useable doors.

You look behind you and see the blonde guy halfway down the hall and gaining fast. You look forward and see some stunned men and maids.

You scramble to your feet and step over the metal, realising you’re in the foyer and the front doors are right there.

Hope blossoms in your chest at actually having a chance of getting out of here as you sprint towards the doors.

Bucky is standing by them and you smile at him. You skid to a halt to open the door. Your shaking hands taking a few seconds to turn the door knob. Valuable seconds.

Just as you push the door open arms grab you around the waist. You scream and struggle as hard as you can as you watch the door swing open.

Sunlight floods the entryway and hits your skin, the only real warmth you’ve felt in what feels like eternity. Bucky stands passed the threshold looking at you as you get dragged back through the double doors.

The sunlight gives an aura around him that makes him look like an angel and as you lose sight of Bucky, the door and hope, you can’t help but call out his name.

BUCKY’S POV

Bucky was in the office with Sam, Steve and Darren. Darren had come over to say that he hadn’t found anything out but wanted to help any way he could.

They had been talking for the past hour about what else they could do. Bucky could barely concentrate on what was being said as he looked out the window thinking of you.

“I know we looked into Harry, but he could be worth checking again. He may have estates we don’t know about”, that was Steve.

Bucky heard Sam next, “but if we don’t know about them how are we meant to find out?”.

Steve again, “I don’t know, but Harry’s organisation isn’t big, he wouldn’t have anything outside of the UK”.

Darren this time, “but the UK is still a big place if we don’t know where we’re looking”.

A few seconds of silence and then a buzzing. Bucky was trying to ignore it as he thought about you. He was quite successful in ignoring it until one of his spare phones gets shoved into his face by Steve, “Bucky! You’ve got a call”.

Bucky quickly snatches it from Steve and gets up from the chair before answering, “hello?”.

A whispered voice comes out, “Bucky is that you? Its me, Noah”.

Bucky nods as if he can see, “yeah, its me. Tell me you got something Noah”.

Noah continues to whisper, “she’s here”.

It was only two words, but it was enough to leave him feel like he had been suckered punched, “you saw her? Where are you exactly?”.

Bucky turns to see everyone standing now, “yeah I saw her. He was keeping her in a place I didn’t even know existed. After this conversation I’ll text you the exact location”.

Bucky had too many questions he wanted to ask, “how did you find out where she was?”.

Noah was silent for a few seconds before whispering, “she made a break for it. I was just about to leave when she came crashing through a set of doors and ran to the front door. Someone got her before she could make it passed the door and took her down corridors I never even knew existed…you know I couldn’t help her as much as I-“.

Bucky cuts him off, “I know. You did the right thing…how was she?”.

Noah was silent, and Bucky clenched his jaw, “just tell me Noah”.

Noah sighs, “she didn’t look great. She was skinny and had bruises, was wearing a hospital gown. She screamed your name before they took her away”.

Bucky closed his eyes, he didn’t know why he was asking he was only torturing himself. Bucky managed to speak, “thanks Noah. Send over the details and be prepared for contact from me soon”.

They both hang up after that and Bucky relays everything Noah had just told him as he texts through the details. Bucky finishes with, “so let’s go. I’m not waiting any longer”.

Steve blocks his path, “hold on Buck. You and I both know that we need to plan this properly. We can’t fuck this up”.

Sam nods, “Steve is right, but we can plan as we make our way over. If we do both at the same time, then we don’t waste as much time”.

Darren also chips in, “I’m coming too”.

Bucky looks at all of them before nodding, “lets get everything in place then”.

YOUR POV

Isaac was furious with you and you took great satisfaction in it. Not even him slapping you across the face could wipe the smile you gave him as you said, “you can’t break me”.

He ordered the blonde guy to take you back to the cell and you fought with what little energy you had left.

You were now on the bed trying to sleep, but it just wouldn’t come. You open your eyes to see Bucky leaning against the far wall again smiling, “you did great. I’m thinking we could do that again and even get out this time”.

You scoff, “you think I’ll be able to do that again? You’re delusional”.

Bucky laughs, “actually I think you’re the delusional one. I’m thinking if you get the keys off blondie and lock him in next time you’ll be able to do it-“.

“Shut up”, you murmur.

He ignores you, “you may have to wait a day or two because he’ll be jumpy-“.

“Shut up”, you try again.

He still talks, “come on Y/N! We can’t give up now, we’re so close-“.

You lose it as you shoot up from the bed, the anger giving temporary life to your bones, “shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I hate you!”.

You stand there, chest heaving, as Bucky looks hurt, “I thought you loved me?”.

You huff in frustration, “you? No. Bucky? Yes. You’re not him, you’re not even real! I imagined you as a way to make myself feel better but all you’re doing is making me feel worse. You’re just a reminder that Bucky, MY Bucky, is out there and I can’t touch him or see him…I need my Bucky, not whatever you are. So just go away”.

You sink back down on the bed and turn your back on him, your heart breaking in the silence of the cold room.

WoW Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @crazyblonde124 @summerwelsh @scuzmunkie @loving-life-my-way @pequenaguaxinim @paranoid-borderline-insane @lilsonbucky @somanyfandomsblog @broco8 @inquisitor-selvala @mad-red @k-n-e @rinkashirikitateku @duhh-danielly @boundtomyfate @kalesrebellion @booktease21 @whatinthyworld @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @asapkyndall @yaszx @amoredashley @aveatquevale- @putinovertime @melimelbean @valsworldofcreativity @lokilokilokilokilokilokilo-blog1 @vesper852 @littlenerdgirl16 @wiccanmetallicrose