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harrysweasleys · 3 years

Text

a familiar tune // b.b

summary: bucky may have lost a lot of himself throughout his life — but he hasn’t lost his dance moves.

warnings: major tfatws finale spoilers!

word count: 1.4k

a/n: my first mcu fic, and of course it’s for bucky, the loml. thank u to @feetoffthetablee for helping me brainstorm this ily 🤍 requests are still open!! also, i don’t have an mcu taglist yet but i will be making one! :)

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform]

To say the world had changed would be an understatement. Ever since people had returned from the snap, society was crumbling and life was beginning to get complicated. You had been lucky — if lucky was the proper word to use here — because you had been snapped away with Bucky. Meaning, you didn’t have to deal with having to maintain a daily life without him. So, yes, you’d consider yourself lucky.

But now, with humanity struggling to get back on its feet, you had been one of the few who managed to find yourself somewhat at peace.

For the last few weeks, Bucky had been away with Sam. You were following his situation rather closely — new Cap, an abundance of unregistered super soldiers, and something about breaking Zemo out of prison — and you had to admit, despite the hot mess that the situation had panned out to be, you did feel rather proud. Watching Bucky’s progress over the five months since your return as he crossed names off of his list made an unmistakable swell of joy grow in your chest.

And now, with Sam being crowned Captain America, and Bucky finally getting some time off, you honestly couldn’t be happier.

“Buck,” you mumbled against his neck, the two of you sprawled out on the couch as a muted game show played on tv, neither of you really paying enough attention to put the volume on.

He let out a “hmph” and turned to face you. You still had to get used to seeing him with short hair, having only known him with it being long. But it did look rather charming on him. He looked rather like the pictures of himself in the 40s that he had shown you throughout the course of your relationship.

“Were you a stud back in your groovy days?” you asked, fingers coming up to toy with the soft brown strands on his head.

His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a breathy chuckle, “Back in my groovy days? I’m still in my groove, doll.”

You scoffed, “You’re like, a hundred years old. You probably dance like a stiff old man.”

Under your touch, you could feel him sit up straighter, causing you to sit up as well. His body was tense, but you knew he was relaxed. You could see it on all his features; his shoulders were slouched, a lazy smile was on his face, his arm was draped loosely around your waist, and his eyes held a playful gaze. He was different from the Bucky you knew from before the snap. Different — improved, maybe. He felt better about himself and that’s what mattered to you.

“Is that what you think?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes, lifting a finger to poke him in the nose, “I should actually be asking about Sam. I’m sure he knows how to lead a lady on the floor.”

He let out a scoff, his pride taking over, “Oh, is that how we’re going to do this?”

You knew that him and Sam hadn’t been on the best of terms after the snap, starting with Steve giving Sam the shield, and then him having to sit back and watch as Sam gave it up. But they had grown, they had improved, and they had formed a bond that you’re sure would last quite some time.

However, Bucky would still take on any possible challenge to prove himself (especially against Sam), and you were certain this was no different.

“Yup,” you exaggerated and popped the p, “Do you have his number? I should give him a call.”

“No, no. You want to see me dance?” he questioned, his cold metal fingers tracing the skin under your shirt, “Let’s do it. Get up.”

You let him stand up, following suit. The both of you now faced each other in the middle of the living room floor.

“Oh, alright,” you grinned, letting one of his hands slide to your waist. You could feel the cold of his touch through your shirt, but at this point, it didn’t affect you as much anymore. You had gotten used to the sensation of metal on your skin — in fact, you had found comfort in it. Bucky hid his arm from you for so long, and now that he was confident enough to use it and be casual about it while around you, you were going to love it as much as you loved him.

You linked one of your hands with his, the other resting on his shoulder and toying with the short hair at the base of his neck. His eyes were gazing into yours, the piercing blue accentuated under the afternoon sunlight, but they were warm. Familiar. The only eyes you wanted to look into for the rest of your life.

“We have no music,” you chuckled, pulling back from him to go get your phone, but Bucky’s arm held onto you tight enough that you couldn’t go anywhere.

“We don’t need music,” he mumbled, pulling you close enough that his lips were against your forehead.

You chuckled, letting your head fall against his shoulder. His skin was warm under yours, and you could feel the steady thump of his heart against your own chest. You could also feel it begin to vibrate as he started humming a tune — one that wasn't overly familiar to you, but one that you had heard him hum before.

“It’s from the old dance clubs,” he would always tell you, “They’d always play the same song every Friday at eight.”

So he’d hum it for you all the time; while you were cooking, while you two laid in bed at night, while you two bathed together, and right now, as you two danced in the living room like the world was fading away around you. Like you were alone — completely alone.

You had gotten familiar enough with the tune that you could hum along with him, letting him lead you two in a slow dance. Neither of you were anywhere near being in sync, but the bright smile on his face was enough for you to not even focus on trying to line your feet up with his. You were focused on his eyes, and his eyes alone.

“I told you I was a decent dancer,” he smirked, his hand pulling away from your waist so he could give you a quick twirl before pulling you back against his body, “Sam is no competition for me.”

“I wouldn’t say this is a great routine,” you said, letting out a laugh and tilting your head to the side, “but you’re not so bad, Sergeant.”

You leaned forwards, pressing your lips against his for a quick kiss, loving the way he tugged you closer to keep the intimate gesture going.

“I think this is pretty great,” he mumbled against your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moved up to the back of your head, pulling you in once more. His lips were soft against yours, and you could feel every bit of trust and love that he was giving you. Bucky wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings through words, but he really did show you through his actions and gestures.

“Is this how you danced with all the ladies?” you teased once you pulled away, raising your eyebrow and poking a finger to his chest before interlocking your hand with his once more.

He shook his head, “Definitely not.”

You grinned, leaning closer, “Glad to know I’m the only one who gets to experience your moves.”

His lips pressed to your temple as your head fell to his shoulder once more, and you swore that if time stopped right now and this was how you’d be stuck for the rest of eternity, you would be happy. More than happy, really. This moment felt perfect.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his neck, feeling the way he shivered under your touch.

His hand gripped your waist tighter and his voice was barely a whisper, but he replied, “I love you.”

Bucky didn’t say the ‘love’ word too often, preferring to save it for the most intimate, private moments. And though you knew he loved you — he showed it through everything he did — the words never caused a flutter to erupt in your heart.

“So, do you still want Sam’s number?” he asked, the teasing tone in his voice making you grin.

“Nah, I think I’ll be alright without it,” you pressed a quick kiss to his neck before pulling your head away and locking eyes, “You’re the only one I want to dance with anyways.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes one shots

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hauntedfalcon · 3 years

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living in midnight

for day four of Nile Freeman Week: "Nile & Struggle" plus a fantasy AU in which superheroes exist, Nile isn't one of them, and she doesn't let that stop her. 1700 words, rated M for swearing. content warning for wounds and needles because it's Nile's turn for sapphic patching up, as a treat

the title is from Lianne La Havas’s “Midnight”. many thanks to @flightsofwonder for beta reading <3

read on AO3 or below

Nile opens her eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling. There is an unfamiliar pillow under her head, and she is recumbent on an unfamiliar sofa. Above it is a window, where streetlights reflect in the sinuous trails of raindrops.

Rain. Knives. Three attackers. She fought like hell, might have broken someone’s arm, but they landed one good hit. They left her for dead in an alley. She watched her own blood run into a puddle.

She bolts upright--and hisses when a wave of agony breaks over her, starting in her abdomen and shooting everywhere.

“Please don’t move,” says a softly accented voice. “You’re safe here. I haven’t seen your face.”

Nile collapses back down to the pillow and touches her face, just to be sure. Her mask is still in place. She drops her hand and forces one eye open, blurry with pained tears, to get a look at whoever dragged her in from the alley.

A white woman. Dark shoulder-length hair. Youngish, maybe Nile’s age. Dressed all in black, much like her--not for stealth but for soft goth vibes. Cute, if she’s honest, but this isn’t the fucking singles bar, get it together Freeman.

“I staunched the bleeding,” her rescuer says, “but I was waiting until you were conscious to do the stitches.”

“Do we have to?” Nile groans before she can stop herself.

A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “I’m afraid so. Would you like some fortitude?” The amateur surgeon holds out a bottle of Everclear.

Ugh. Nile takes the cap off and drinks deep, leaving enough in the bottle to sterilize whatever needs to be sterilized. It tastes like ass and lingers at the back of her throat.

Before the alcohol can set in and obliterate her senses, she says, “Can I borrow your phone?”

The woman hesitates. Very wise of her.

“Listen,” Nile says. “We had two leads come in at the same time. Al-Tayyib took one and I took the other, and mine was a decoy, which means...” She can’t, won’t, say it aloud. She hates how feeble she sounds. “I just have to check in with him. Please.”

The woman hands her a smartphone, unlocked. Nile hits the keycode to make the call anonymous, then dials Joe’s shitty flip phone from memory. He keeps it on silent when he’s on the rounds, and he’ll only answer if he’s safe.

Pick up, she wills him, because if she has to hear his stupid cheerful voicemail greeting now of all times, she’s going to scream right in front of this poor woman who didn’t ask for any of this drama in her life. Pick up, pick up, pick--

“Pronto.”

Nile’s gut tightens (painfully, but that’s not what matters right now) at the sound of another unfamiliar voice. The assassin. Joe walked into a trap.

“Where is he?” she demands, trying to sound hard and not like she’s lying on a stranger’s couch with an open wound.

A gust in the speaker. Is he laughing at her? She strains to hear anything that would give away their location: traffic, a clock tower, machinery, anything. There’s nothing else. No hint of Joe yelling in the background, either.

“I will return him to you presently,” says the asshole. Very formal.

“What, after you shank him like your goons did to me?”

“They were instructed not to kill you,” he says in a voice that wouldn’t fog a window in January. “Did you die?”

White-hot rage flares out of her with no place to go. “Where is he, you son of a--” But he has already hung up on her.

Nile resists the urge to growl. If this was her phone she would throw it against the wall. Instead she quickly deletes the record of the outgoing call, and hands the phone back to the woman, who pockets it. “Thank you,” she says tightly.

“I’m sorry to say so,” says the woman as she holds the tip of a curved needle in a candle flame, “but you are in no condition to save anyone right now.”

She blows out a sigh in answer. When she pulls the hem of her shirt up and peels away the medical tape and bandage pad, she discovers that the woman is absolutely right. This isn’t the worst Nile has been hurt and still fought, but it is pretty bad.

And it’s one thing to trash a gang of traffickers while she’s actively bleeding. It’s something totally different to track down a guy who has been three steps ahead of them this whole time, and seems to have removed his sense of morals with an ice cream scoop.

There’s only one thing left to do: say a silent prayer. The way she learned to pray feels insufficiently casual for the circumstances; she wishes she knew more about the format of the rakat. All she remembers is, “God hears the one who praises him,” so she starts on the Lord’s Prayer because praise comes before petition.

In place of, “Give us this day our daily bread,” she substitutes, “Get Joe out of this with his head,” and then she has to hold back a giggle at the rhyme. She must have lost a lot of blood.

The woman wipes the needle down with Everclear. “You know, I met the old Guardian too.”

Nile eyes her carefully. She won’t say Andy’s name in this woman’s presence. She won’t say Joe’s name either, much less her own. She won’t slip no matter how much blood she’s lost or how strong the alcohol is or how fundamentally good and trustworthy this woman seems or how much this is going to hurt. “Not under the same conditions,” she presumes.

“Very similar,” the woman says with another fleeting smile. “I hope she’s well?”

“She’s good,” Nile hastens to reassure her. “She retired.” And she left Nile her nom de guerre and all the weight that went with it.

“I’m glad she made it that long.”

“Probably thanks to you,” Nile says, and she gets a longer smile for it.

Then the needle bites into her skin and Nile whimpers softly and throws an arm over her eyes. She’s hard. She’s tough. This is what she does.

The woman’s gloved hand pinches the wound closed as she stitches. She works quickly, professionally. “I’m really glad you found me,” Nile manages. “I can’t exactly go to a hospital.”

“I think you would be surprised,” the woman says. “You are well loved in this city. People would protect your identity.”

That’s not it. Nile can’t go to hospital because there’s a chance her mom would be on shift, and the only thing worse than keeping her alter ego secret from her mom is the idea that she would find out because Nile came in on a gurney. She can’t do that to her.

A tug, as she ties the thread off, and then a snip of the shears. Nile lifts her head and looks down at a slightly puckered, neatly stitched, no longer bleeding knife wound.

Her laugh sounds brittle, just this side of hysterical. The woman glances at her. “I have work tomorrow,” Nile says weakly.

The woman tapes a fresh bandage over the wound. “Me too.”

No rest for the righteous. “The struggle is real, huh? Sorry for keeping you up late.”

“I will call in if you do,” the woman offers.

But going into the office in the morning might be the soonest opportunity to make sure Joe is okay. Nile pulls her shirt down and zips her bomber jacket over it. “I should go.”

The woman sets one hand on Nile’s arm. “Please stay. You shouldn’t be out alone tonight.”

“They might have been watching when you brought me inside,” Nile warns.

“Then I will need your protection, won’t I?” the woman says without blinking, as if she’s not the one that just saved Nile’s whole life.

Nile cracks an incredulous smile but the woman just gazes at her solemnly.

“Okay,” she says at last. “Okay, I’ll stay. Thank you. And I’m sorry for bleeding on your couch.”

It’s not enough, but the woman just sets about cleaning up her supplies. Nile settles back against the pillow and wills her muscles to unclench.

“May I ask,” the woman asks as she washes her hands, “why you do this? You don’t have superpowers.”

No, and none of the people who do have taken this city under their protection. Flippant, lazy answers parade through Nile’s mind, because she’s not in a charitable mood. Anger issues. No one else is gonna do it. I’m a giant masochist, actually.

But when she opens her mouth, the first thing that comes out is Andy’s answer, from when Nile asked her years ago. “Because there are people worth fighting for.”

Then Joe’s answer: “People who won’t get justice any other way.”

And, finally, one that’s all hers. “I have a responsibility. This is my city”

She’s going to pass out any minute, but beneath her fatigue there’s still a live coal of the feelings that made her put this mask on in the first place. This is her damn city. She spends so much time in the guts of its shitty justice system, and the rest of the time punching assholes, that she sometimes forgets her city is full of ordinary, decent people. Good people. People who will bring someone in from the rain. People like…

“What’s your name?” Nile asks, and then catches herself. “I can’t--give you mine. Sorry. It might be safer if I don’t know yours.”

“Celeste,” says the woman.

Good people like Celeste. How comforting that is.

Her pain is down to an ache instead of a burn, and her eyes drift closed. In the morning, she’ll be out of Celeste’s hair. She’ll shower at her apartment, carefully, and she’ll go into Legal Aid, and Joe will be there, a little banged up but alive. He’ll hug her, quick and tight, and they’ll loiter by the coffee maker and speak in low voices and sort out their next play. And when the work day is over, they’ll go with Andy and Quỳnh down to Booker’s for drinks and darts, and Nile will order a bouquet of flowers sent to Celeste’s apartment in thanks. Everything, for given quantities of everything, will be fine.

Confident in her safety, secure in her purpose, Nile rests.

#The Old Guard #Nile Freeman #nileweek2021

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elliesguitarstrings · 3 years

Text

Here For You

Masterlist

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter comforts you after you reveal your struggles with depression to him.

A/N: Sorry it’s taking me so long to write part 3 of Silence but I promise it will be out soon. I’ve just had a rough couple of days so I wanted to write something that kinda reflects my feelings atm. I know that a lot of people are feeling the same way as I have been, so I’m just putting it out there that I am always open to talk if anyone needs help :)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of depression and suicide, language

~~~~~~~~

You let out a long sigh as you close your computer after the last class of the day. You’re exhausted, you have a pounding headache, and you don’t have a single shred of motivation.

When all of this COVID stuff first started, you didn’t mind doing school from home. To be completely honest, you actually loved it. You didn’t have to talk to all the annoying people in your classes, you could do a large portion of work on your own time, and you had an excuse to stay in your room all day. What’s not to love, right?

Wrong.

After a few weeks, you started to see how terrible it all was. You had to teach yourself everything because your teachers had no clue what they were doing (and they still don’t). You started to get distracted easily. And the worst part: every single fucking day was the same.

You lost all motivation to do anything.

You’re smart, one of the smartest in your class, actually, but your grades were dropping rapidly. You lost track of assignments, turning them in so late you didn’t even get half credit. You procrastinated like crazy, dreading every single day. You stayed up late every night, trying to finish assignments and get back on track. But nothing was working.

You want to change so badly. You want to be one of those girls who keeps a bullet journal with fancy colors and letters, who plans out their entire day with a checklist, who stays on top of their work, and who actually has the motivation to get up out of bed each morning. But you can’t and you aren’t, and you don’t know why.

Plus, right now you were on your period, which was not helping things. At all. You hate feeding the stereotype of girls being all emotional and unstable during their periods, but it’s true. Well, for you at least. When you’re happy, it’s like you’re bouncing off the walls. But when you’re sad, it’s like you’ve fallen into a 300 ft deep hole and you’ll never get out.

You crawl into bed and start sobbing, the only thing you can do right now. You just want it to be over. All of it.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your window. Your shades are drawn, but you know exactly who it is. It’s Peter. He goes patrolling around the city after school, but he always comes to check on you first, seeing as you’re his girlfriend and all.

You know that if he sees you crying, he’ll want to help you, but the last thing you want is to be a burden on him. Plus, you only started dating a few months ago, and you didn’t want to drive him away by getting all emotional around him.

“Just a sec Pete, I’ll be right there.”

You run to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, trying to get rid of the redness and puffiness in your eyes. You pat your face dry with a towel, put on the best smile you can muster, and run back to your room.

You draw back the curtains and open the window, allowing Peter to slip into your room.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get to the window, I um, just woke up from a nap,” you apologize, shutting the window back while he takes off his mask.

“Don’t worry about it! But didn’t school end like 10 minutes ago? How did you fall asleep so fast?”

“Oh, um, my last class got dismissed early, so I was actually done like 30 minutes ago,” you lied, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, okay, well I’m glad you got some rest. You need it.”

Smiling, Peter stretches his arms out towards you and pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead.

Just that small amount of affection is almost enough to make you burst out into tears again, but somehow you manage to hold it in.

Until Peter pulls back, looks you dead in the eyes and says, “What’s wrong?”

“What? N-nothing’s wrong Peter, I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you aren’t. I can sense something’s wrong, so just tell me.”

“Peter I swear. Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine!” your voice is shaking.

Peter folds your hands into his, “Y/N, please. I know something’s up. Just tell me.”

That’s when you lose it. You fall back into his arms, sobbing even harder than before. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. But there’s no stopping it now.

Peter holds you tight while you cry, letting you bury your head into his chest. He doesn’t ask any questions just yet, he just holds you.

After a few minutes, the tears let up enough for you to pull away, looking at Peter with red, swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry Pete, I’m so so sorry. I- I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you stutter between sobs.

“Y/N, no, no, it’s okay. You can let it out.”

His voice is soft and comforting, and it does actually help you a little bit. He pulls you into another tight hug, repeatedly kissing the top of your head while you continue to cry.

“Come here, lets sit down, okay?” he pulls away slightly.

You nod weakly, and he guides you onto your bed. You both sit down, facing each other, and he takes a hold of your hands.

“Peter I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a burden, you should go do your patrolling, I don’t want to hold you up – “ you start, but Peter cuts you off.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. And forget about my patrolling. I’m staying here until you’re better, however long that is.”

You smile weakly, to tired to even fight on it.

“Do you want to talk about it? Only if you’re comfortable though, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter questions.

You look at Peter for a moment through teary eyes. He was here for you, ready to listen to you and help you. You were hesitant, not wanting to spill all of your feelings out on him, but you’ve already gotten this far, so why not.

“Yeah, sure, but can we cuddle?”

“Of course baby, whatever makes you comfortable. But let me change first, I’m drenched in your tears,”

You chuckle lightly. Peter always knows how to make you laugh.

He changes into a sweatshirt and sweatpants that he left at your house and climbs back into bed with you. He pulls you close to him, and you snuggle into his arms.

“So, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Are you sure you want to hear my problems? I really don’t want to be a burden Pete,” you respond, still crying.

“Baby, I’m here for you. I want to help you and make you feel better. That’s what I’m here for.”

He really is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

“Well, um, okay. It’s just, I don’t have any motivation to do anything. Not even to wake up in the morning. Even just the simplest tasks seem so difficult, and I feel like I can’t do this anymore Pete. I just can’t do it.”

You start to sob once again, and Peter pulls you into him even closer. He lets you cry and slowly calm down for a few moments before responding.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I had no idea you felt like that. I mean, I knew school was bothering you, but not to that extent. But please, please please don’t leave me. You mean so much to me and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” now he’s starting to cry.

You lay there, Peter’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as close as humanly possible to him, both crying your eyes out.

“Y/N, I’m going to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Because losing you isn’t an option. So tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thank you so much Pete. You being here Is honestly the best thing you can do right now.”

You snuggle into him, engulfed by his warmth and comfort.

After a long silence, you look at him and smile, genuinely this time, “You know, even though I’ve been sobbing nonstop basically since you got here, just being with you has already made me feel better than I have all week.”

Peter looks back at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in and kissing you softly. Although the two of you had kissed many times before, this one was different. This was pure love.

You pull away, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Of course baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You both smile, going back in for another kiss, much like the last.

This time Peter pulls away forehead still resting against yours, “Y/N, promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise Pete, I promise.”

You snuggle back into his chest, your tears finally diminishing. Although the past few months had been absolute shit for you, Peter had always been there. And you know he always will be. He makes everything better, and you couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.

The both of you start to doze off to sleep, tired from all the crying you had been doing for the past, well, however long it’s been.

Before you fully fall asleep, you whisper, “I love you Peter.”

“I love you too, so much” he whispers back.

And in that moment, you are truly happy.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist (if you want to be added, removed, or changed on this taglist please comment or send in an ask!)

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @depeestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x y/n

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toomanyrobins · 3 years

Text

a little birdie told me pt. 7

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, cursing, mentions of forced marriage

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: thank you to @firefly-graphics for the team cap divider! Makes my life much easier! 💛

Series masterlist // next part

The next morning, Steve heard someone clearing their throat. He opened his eyes to see a familiar face standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed. “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell am I doing! What the hell are you doing? Why is my sister in your bed?”

Steve looked down and saw Y/N burrowed under the sheets. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well and hated to wake her up. “Let’s go talk in the kitchen.” he put on the coffee maker before turning back to his fuming friend, “Birdie stayed over last night after I had to rush home because Jaime was sick. She stayed to help with him and we fell asleep.”

The tension started to leave Peter, “Oh, is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Look, I get that you’re especially overprotective since Y/N came home but if she had woken up first and saw you, she would’ve been pissed. We are both adults and don’t deserve to be treated like criminals for what we decide to do.”

“You’re talking like something might happen.”

“Do you want to hear it?” Peter nodded, “Yes, I like your sister. She’s amazing and I enjoy every second I spend with her. I don’t care about her past and I hope she doesn’t care about mine. We both have made choices and we live with the consequences.”

“You like my sister...how long?”

“I don’t know. She used to just be your sister, the other half to the problematic duo that was her and Becca. Since she’s been back, something has changed.”

“Is this your savior complex?” Peter scoffed at the scandalized look on Steve’s face, “Don’t look like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Before I grew up, I was as strong as a limp noodle, and you and Bucky were always there to pull someone off of me. I just want to be sure you actually want Y/N because she’s Y/N and not because you think she needs saving."

“This isn't like you picking fights with guys double your size. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Parker. But whatever relationship I choose to have will be between us and I hope you can understand that. Because I won’t be the one to make her choose.”

“I hate you a little bit for this,” he ran a hand through his already unruly hair, “I kind of want to punch you.”

“Well Bucky punched Sam when he proposed to Becca. If I get that far, you can punch me.”

“Fine,” Peter took the cup of coffee Steve gave him. “So, when are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I’m scared she’ll say she’s not interested.”

“Well, I’d do it fast, before someone else notices how great she is.”

The duo decided to switch over to discussing some business, until they heard some noise coming from the baby monitor. Peter knew he should leave Y/N woke and made a quick escape. Steve walked back into his room, opened the curtains, and put a cup of coffee on the bedside table closest to Y/N. He peeled the blankets back and shook her softly. The only response he got was a grumble and her burying her face in the pillow. He decided to grab Jamie and let her slowly start to wake up. The baby at least was happy to see him that morning and kept saying dada over and over again. Steve brought Jamie into his room like he did every morning and put him on the bed next to Y/N. He immediately started to climb on top of her, wanting attention. “Sweetheart, you have to wake up. We have a visitor.”

“What?” The throaty morning voice that she spoke with sent shivers down Steve’s spine. She slowly sat up and kissed Jamie.

He handed her the mug. “A guy could get used to mornings like this: coffee, baby, and a pretty girl.”

Her face grew warm, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash so hard.”

“No need to apologize. We were all tired. Drink your coffee and I’ll drop you off on my way to the Ivory.” The trio moved slowly, enjoying the lazy morning. It hit Steve how comfortable and easy this morning was and that he wanted this to happen again. Their eyes connected in the mirror and she smiled at him. He spun around, “Would you be my date to the holiday party?”

“You want me to be your date?” Steve nodded and she bit her lip, “Yeah, I’d really like that, Stevie.”

He groaned, “What have I said about calling me that?”

“Follow through and I’ll stop.” He chuckled at her cheeky response and finished getting ready. They managed to get out the door on time and while she was bent over buckling Jamie in, she felt a sting on her ass. She whirled around, shock painted her face, “Did you just spank me?”

“You told me to follow through. I’m just doing what I’m told.” Steve walked to the driver’s side, leaving Y/N standing beside the car, a smile on her face.

A week later, Y/N walked into Steve’s apartment, garment bag draped over her arm, make up and hair already done. They had agreed that she would come over to help with Jamie and they would finish getting ready together. All of them would be spending the night in rooms at the Ivory since this party was known to get rowdy. She was glad to see that their overnight bags were packed for the night and she put hers down as she called out for him. “I’m in the bedroom!” She found him standing in the center of the room in just his trousers and unbuttoned dress shirt. He had a look of deep concentration, his tongue peaking out between his lips as he struggled with his shirt. Y/N laid her dress on the bed before Steve threw his hands up, “Can you help me with these damned cufflinks?”

She laughed at his struggle, laying her things on his bed and taking his sleeve in her hands. “I can’t believe you still are wearing these things.” They had been a gag gift from her their first Christmas after he became her guard. She had bought him Tweety Bird cufflinks and told him that he would always have a little birdie with him even if she ran away from him. She switched arms, “How did you get anything done before me, Rogers?”

Steve looked down at her, “I’m not quite sure, Birdie.” She stepped closer to him and started doing up the buttons of his shirt like it was a common practice between them. He held his breath, worried that the intimate moment would end if he made any quick movements. When she reached the top, she smoothed his collar down, her fingertips grazing his neck. She put her hands on his chest and smiled up at him, “There. Now I’m sure you’re capable of tucking your own shirt in. Yes?”

He simply nodded, worried at what pitch his voice would come out. Y/N grabbed her dress and walked into the en-suite bathroom to change. Steve took a deep breath, his skin burning where her fingers had brushed. He walked into his closet, trying to decide on which tie to wear. His decision making was interrupted by his name being called again, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Could you zip me up? I can’t get it.” Steve cursed up his breath, this girl was going to be the death of him. He walked into the bathroom and got the first look at the dress Y/N had been hiding from him. She spun around, letting the skirt swirl, “Worth the wait?”

“You look gorgeous.” Y/N blushed at his compliment and turned around so that he could zip her up. He purposefully took his time, dragging his finger along her back even after he reached the top of the zipper. When he reached the base of her neck, he left a lingering kiss where his hand stopped and walked out without another word. She let forehead come to rest against the cool countertop as she tried to get her hormones under control. The two of them had been playing this cat-and-mouse game for too long and it was leaving the both of them incredibly sexually frustrated.

Y/N had picked Steve’s tie to match her dress, ignoring his smirk when she chose it. He put everything in the car and the trio drove over to the Ivory. Steve’s hand found its way to rest on her thigh as she sang along loudly to the Christmas music on the radio. They handed the keys to the valet and made their way up to their adjoining rooms. Steve and Y/N quickly dressed Jamie up in his little suit that was too almost too cute to handle. She pulled on her heels and straightened his tie before they made their way down to the ballroom and marveled at the expert work that had been done. Tony and Pepper had decided on a White Christmas theme and the decorations were done to recreate the final scene of the movie. Giant trees were in every corner of the room and garland was strung across the room. An orchestra in the corner was playing music and everyone was in their finest outfits. They greeted their families and everyone was passing around well-wishes. They were complimented on what a striking pair they made and She tried to hide how flustered she was by Steve’s hand coming around to her waist and pull her closer.

Suddenly, Y/N heard her name being called. She spun around and groaned when she realized it was Alice Jones calling for her. That bitch had made her life hell in high school and the last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with her gang of women. She threw her shoulders back, plastered a fake smile and made her way over. Alice greeted her with a kiss of both cheeks, making Y/N roll her eyes internally. All of the women greeted her like they were old friends.

It did not take long for each woman to be trying to up the other of how great their lives were. Thousands of dollars worth of jewelry was flashed as they bragged about their husbands and fiances. Suddenly all of the women were looking past Y/N and fixing their appearances. She looked over her shoulder, confused, and realized that Steve was coming their way. He nodded quickly at the women before turning to Y/N, “Could you take Jamie for me? I need to discuss some things and his cuteness is a distraction.”

“Of course. Give me my little man,” she made grabby hands and Steve handed the baby over, who was all too happy to be with her. He babbled away as he played with her necklace.

The blonde gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for this. I shouldn’t be too long.”

When Y/N turned back to the group, they were all looking at her like she had grown another head. She laughed awkwardly as they bombarded her with questions. She tried to answer them gracefully and without giving away any actual information. No one but she and Steve were entitled to know what they were to each other and if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t even sure where they stood. They had become incredibly close since she had been back, even more than before and it seemed that they were both waiting for something to push them over the edge and it never seemed to come.

She let her eyes roam over the ballroom. Indy and Peter were off to one side looking like they were discussing something serious as she tried to get him to put down his drink. George and Tony were off to the side speaking with the latter’s old friend, Colonel Rhodes. She watched Steve shake a man’s hand and then walk over to the bar and start talking to Bucky. Alice placed a hand on Y/N’s bare arm, drawing her attention back, “Well we are so glad to see that you’ve finally settled down,” The group of women tittered away, “I mean I remember in high school how all over the place you were. A nightmare! You’ll have to tell us how little old you managed to snag Steve Rogers.”

Y/N smiled at Alice, “Well I suppose I was a bit all over the place. Not all of us can spend so much of our time in one place on our knees. If you ladies will excuse me.” She quickly made her escape and headed towards the bar. Y/N’s attention was drawn away by Steve and Bucky, who quickly traded her a drink for Jamie when he saw the stormy expression on her face. “What a loathsome bitch.” Steve snickered at the disdain in her voice and looked over to see that the group of women was watching them. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, partially shielding her from their gaze. He was sure it looked like he was whispering dirty secrets to her and it wouldn’t take much for him to start. They had been swirling through his head all night. “You’re an amazing woman. Don’t let them get to you.” Her grip slowly relaxed on the champagne flute and Steve nodded as he ran his fingers along her spine, “Good girl.” Y/N tried to hide the fact that the praise from him had any affect on her, but he knew her and noticed the slight shiver that ran down her back.

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

@founding-fuck-bois

@animegirlgeeky

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@directorsnarrative

@marvelofwitch

#avengers au #avengers imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #mafia!avengers #mafia au #mafia!steve #mob!au #mob!avengers #mob!steve #steve rogers #steve rogers au #toomanyrobins #avengers #avengers x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #mafia!steve rogers

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guessimwritingficsagain · 3 years

Text

To be seen, part Two (Frankie Morales x reader)

Summary : You somehow get closer to the boys, as an old acquaintance shows up..

Author’s note : The movie is definitely Portrait of a Lady on Fire.

Part one : Here

------

Life went on, and despite the occasional stories Jessie told you - she had a favorite now, Will, and you could see why - Benny and his friends became a distant memory. Then, September came along, and with it, preschool for Clara. That meant changes for you too. You’d take mostly night shifts at the bar, now, just so Jessie could work while Clara was at school and spend her evenings with her. Mildred, the other mom on the team, was already working days. But yeah, your babysitting days ? They were mostly over. Once you got Jessie through her little meltdown because her babygirl was growing so fast, it felt weird to have your life back to yourself. You found out you were giddy.

There was so much to do and see, and you had a regular schedule now. You didn’t stop to think about the fact you hadn’t had a holiday in ages, which is why it came as a surprise when you basically slept through most of the days the first two weeks.

You admitted as much to Jessie, one Sunday evening, sitting on her porch, sipping a beer as you both watched Clara play with a small red truck. Jessie made fun of you for that, but, after a beat, quietly admitted :

« It feels good. I feel like I have more time for myself. I can rest, you know ? Things are … better, I guess. »

Right then, with the sun slowly coming down, the world a soft shade of orange, and Clara babbling right in front of you, you understood what she meant. Neither of you moved, even after you’d both finished your beers. You fell into easy chatter, until Clara showed signs of exhaustion.

When you headed home, it was dark, but it felt good not to have to sleep on Jessie’s couch anymore.

———

You were sweating.

You were sweating and Anna was running around like she was Usain freaking Bolt and the young man the boss had finally hired to help in the kitchen was not helping in the kitchen at all because there was so many patrons he was needed in the main room. You thanked the deities Phil was very good at what he was doing because you were truly understaffed here.

And also : not used to it.

The fact that you’d previously not worked every Saturday evening meant you hadn’t quite had to go through that particular circle of hell.

And then, as soon as it started, the rush was over. Not that people had left, but suddenly, you could catch a break. Anna came back next to you, behind the counter and just slumped on the wall, next to the coffee machine.

« Good job, handling that. » smiled Santiago from his perch on the other side of the counter. He’d come in a bit earlier, alone. That had raised questions from Anna, even though you figured she was now too tired to even care that he was here. Jessie would be ashamed of both of you. You nodded, as you saw Phil come out of the kitchen and walk towards you. He sent Anna on a break with a pat on her shoulder, took her spot against the wall and mumbled to you, quiet enough so that Santiago or other patrons couldn't hear :

« We really need to talk to the boss about that. »

You nodded again - you weren’t quite sure your mouth was still working. It had to, though, because you spotted Benny, his brother and the other guy - Frankie, you remembered - walking in. The kid (whatsisnameagain?) walked hurriedly towards them but they gestured towards the counter, leaving him to watch the room anxiously, trying to spot if anyone needed anything. Out of politeness - or rather, because it was your damn job - you asked Santiago if they needed a table. He shrugged. You chose to take it as a no. You smiled in greetings at the new patrons, and Benny exclaimed :

« You’re back ! »

« Yeah. I’m back. »

As you were about to push yourself from the coffee machine you had left yourself slump on, Phil’s hand went to your shoulder and he whispered, quiet again :

« Go take a break, I’ll handle it. »

You frowned.

« Phil, they’re not … »

« That’s not why I’m telling you to take a break. You’re trembling. Go for a walk, have a smoke, something. »

You made a gesture towards the coffee machine.

« That, though, is off limits, » growled Phil. « No coffee. Go. »

You watched as he pushed himself from the wall and asked their orders. Then, admitting your defeat, you left through the backdoor and let the cool air ease your mind. You fished for a cigarette and spotted Anna, sitting right on the ground, sipping tea.

« So, he’s hot. »

« Who ? » you asked.

« Santiago. »

« Too old for you. » you reminded her.

She turned to you and wiggled her eyebrows. You countered :

« Meh, not my type. »

And that was true. He was hot in a way that made him inapprochable. You didn’t go for guys like that. Though, you thought about the fact that both Anna and Jessie were still obsessed with theses guys after months and that you were playing along and you groaned.

« We need to get a life. »

Anna simply hummed. She let her head fall on your shoulder, just for a bit. You finished your cigarette and tapped her thigh.

Time to get back to work.

———

« So, she’s gone then, your friend ? »

You had just handed a beer to Will when he asked. It was a thing, now : when the place was too crowded, they’d sit at the counter instead of taking a table. It didn’t happen every time, but enough that you’d had to make small talk once in a while. That, though, was new.

Benny and Frankie were in deep conversation and Santiago was -

Ah.

Santiago was not going home alone, tonight.

« My friend ? »

« You know, the lady that tended the bar on Saturday nights, before. »

You shook your head.

« Nah, but her kid started preschool so we had to make arrangements. She works during the day, now. »

« Preschool ? That makes her kid about as old as Frankie’s kid, then. Hey Fish ! Didn’t your kid start preschool too ? »

That got Frankie’s attention and you winced. You actively tried not to talk too much to Frankie. Or to look at him too much. There was something about him, about the way he fumbled with his cap, about the curls of his hair, about his eyes and his hands. Something soft.

(So yeah, you’d looked a lot, but you couldn’t help yourself.)

Will went on about Jessie’s kid, preschool, and you caught the name of the little girl - Maria. Frankie, never the talker, was nodding, a kind smile on his face. You explained how Jessie freaked out at first, how it had changed a lot of things for both of you. Benny asked :

« For you too ? »

You realized that you had said too much. Jessie probably didn’t want some random strangers she had a crush on to know she was a single mother struggling and you didn’t want them to know the only life you had revolved around Jessie and her kid. You tried to keep your answer as evasive as possible.

« I’m around a lot. Friends, right ? »

The two brothers nodded, smiles a bit too tight on their face. Frankie was looking at his beer bottle. There was something there, something you didn’t quite catch but it felt like you had just said the wrong thing. Trying to light up the room, you asked if any of them wanted a refill. Frankie fished for something in his pocket.

« Actually » he started, « I should head home. »

But before he could get his wallet out, Santiago appeared out of thin air, right behind him, grabbed him by the shoulder and said :

« He’s gonna have another one. All of us actually. Drinks on me. »

The two brothers cheered at that, even though Benny said something about Santiago being full of shit about paying. Frankie complied at his friend’s request and stayed. As you were handing out the refills, you saw Will and Santiago exchange a look as the latter sat back down with his friends. Turning around, you took a look at the woman he had been flirting with and wondered if things didn’t work out, in the end, though you somehow doubted it.

When you handed Frankie his drink, he smiled, showing a single dimple. You made the mistake of looking into his eyes and something in your belly grew warm. You felt like you were wrapped up in a blanket, on a rainy day, watching Laggies and drinking hot chocolate, your cat Starbuck sleeping in your lap. You couldn’t help but smile back, even though you knew you were screwed. Not for the first time, you were glad for the safety of the counter, though usually it was because it protected you from unsavory patrons. Right now, though, without it, you didn’t know what you would’ve done. Leaned in a bit, maybe ? You were sure he smelled good.

You turned around quickly and busied yourself, trying not to think about how Frankie smelled.

What was wrong with you ?

———

You finally managed to get that movie Linda had told you about, or rather : that movie you had told Linda about but never got around to watch it and in the end she had watched it before you could. You’d been grocery shopping when you’d seen the DVD and you’d taken that as a sign from the universe itself because why on earth would that small French movie be on display here ?

So you’d taken it.

You were about to press play when you got a text from Linda herself. It was a selfie. She hadn’t changed much, you noticed. Her hair was slightly shorter, and she wore glasses now, but she looked almost the same as she did five years ago. You were so focused at the relief you felt at not feeling anything but fondness that it took you a minute to recognize where she was. A second text popped up :

Was hoping to catch you !

She was at the bar. You thought for a second, there. It was your day off, and you were not in the mood to go back to your workplace for a drink. But Linda was there, hoping to catch you, so you got up anyway, turned off the TV, put your shoes on and walked through the door.

The thing was : everything with her had always been easy. So you didn’t feel nervous going there. You didn’t give a second thought to the way you were dressed, or what the two of you could talk about. You were slightly curious, though, as to why she was here.

The bar was slightly crowded, but nothing big for a Thursday. You spotted her immediately and navigated your way through the tables to get to her when you spotted a sign that made you stop in your tracks and snort.

Santiago was flirting with her.

You watched for a few seconds, and closed the distance with the table, eager to put Linda out of her misery.

« You know, Santiago, one of these days, you’ll get an harassment suit on your ass. » you joked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He playfully shrugged your hand off, and said :

« Nah, I understand it when I’m not wanted. No means no and shit, you know. But, one of these days, I’ll get you to call me Santi. Only my mother calls me Santiago. »

You snorted again. Clearly, if he was still hitting on the raging lesbian that was Linda, his radar was way off.

« Well, back off, Santiago. That’s my seat. »

« Oh. Girls’ night. I see. Well, I’ll leave you two ladies to it. »

He still extended his hand to Linda, who’d been watching with a small smile on her face.

« Lovely meeting you, Linda. If you ever wanna grab a drink. »

« You’re not my type, Santi. »

She shook his hand anyway. And then, it was just the two of you, together. There was a pause, there, as you smiled at each other before Linda got up and wrapped her arms around you. As you took a sit, you figured it was going to be a good night.

———

« And then, Starbuck tried to jump in the closet, missed and fell on my mom who screamed like she’d seen a ghost. »

Linda was laughing so hard you worried for a minute she would choke. You’d both moved to the counter. Once the the kitchen was closed, Phil had joined you. When she had recovered from the story, Linda quipped :

« I can’t believe you called your cat Starbuck. You’re such a nerd. »

Seeing Phil didn’t get it, she explained :

« It’s a callsign in Battlestar Galactica, the TV show. Starbuck is her favorite character. When I met her, she kept saying stuff like « what do you hear ? Nothing but the rain ». Sometimes she would listen to that bloody song for days, over and over, drove my crazy. »

« Hey, » you protested with mock indignation. « All along the watch tower is a classic. »

« Guess we found your callsign, then. »

You turned around to see Frankie smiling at you. He greeted Phil with a handshake as you, trying really hard not to get flustered, introduced him to Linda. The way she looked at you, you knew you hadn’t fooled her. There would be questions.

« Could I talk to you for a second ? I know you’re not working right now but it’s kinda important. »

He lifted his cap and ruffled his hair a bit.

« No, it’s fine. Guys, I’m going for a smoke », you told Linda and Phil.

Before leaving, you pointed a finger at Linda and threatened :

« Do not tell Phil any compromising stories. »

« No promises. »

Frankie kinda grabbed your elbow, then, to guide you outside. Nothing much, barely a touch but you felt like your skin was buzzing. You were tapping your fingers on the side of your thigh and your hands were a bit unsteady as you tried and lit your cigarette. You hoped he didn’t notice. The way he said here, let me and took the lighter from your hands showed you he did, but he didn’t say anything about it.

« Listen, » he started, a hand in his hair again, « the boys and me, we were wondering … I mean, tonight we’re kinda … we … »

He stopped and let the noise of the street wash over the two of you. You’d never seen him like that, and you didn’t know what to do about it. Hell, you’d never been alone with him. After a while, he took a deep breath and :

« A friend of us died last year, on this day. »

You probably stopped breathing. Whatever you had been expecting, that wasn’t it.

« And so, well, the thing is : he has a daughter. She’s gonna turn 17 in a month or so and well, let’s just say that for a number of reasons, we’re not gonna be invited to the birthday party. So we were wondering if, you know, since we like this place … »

« Frankie, » you stopped him, a hand shooting up on his arm to steady him as much as yourself because this was a lot of information. « Yes, you can celebrate her birthday here. Just make a reservation and if you want a special cake, ask Phil. »

He sighed, rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as his eyes fell on your hand. You removed it, and took a drag from your cigarette.

« Sorry, I probably didn’t need to tell you all of this but tonight, it’s … It’s a lot. »

You simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. What could you even say in that kind of moment ? You’d lost a grand-father, a few years back, and a great-grand mother sometime after but you never had to grieve a friend. And, a bit like that moment a few weeks ago when everybody grew awfully silent when you mentioned you were around for Jessie, you wondered what it meant that we’re not gonna be invited for the birthday party.

It was easy to forget they were ex-military, mostly because they never talked about it. You talked about Benny’s fights mostly, and, on that one occasion, about Frankie’s daughter, but you knew nothing about them, you realized. That’s what made that little fantasy thing you had going both with Anna and Jessie possible. But suddenly you had a sneak peek at something so very personal you didn’t quite know how to handle it. You didn’t quite know what it meant.

On a whim, desperate to lighten whatever that was, you asked :

« How’s Maria ? »

His head shot up at that. His smile was blinding.

« She’s perfect. »

You finished your cigarette, then, and allowed Frankie to take you by the elbow again. Before he let go, he squeezed and said, eyes heavy behind the hood of his cap :

« Thank you … Starbuck. »

This time, his smile was teasing and your own laughter couldn’t be contained.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' Morales x reader

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ not alone ❞, l.ty

synopsis → “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”

word count → 2.5k

warnings → angsty!!! the plot may not make sense since it’s literally 1 in the morning oops

a/n → i hope this concept makes sense and it isn’t too confusing or messy!! if it is just shoot me an ask i would be more than happy to clarify :] anyway i actually like the outcome of this but i am too tired to go back and reread it all for any mistakes so i just hope google docs has my back lol gn everyone

7:00 A.M.

the alarm you set for every year at the exact hour goes off at its appointed time, much to your dismay. the mere sound of your phone beeping has a knot forming in your stomach. you wished it would stop, that everything would just stop but that was beyond unrealistic. in fact, you felt foolish for even letting yourself think like that. no matter how badly you wanted things to change, they never would. you would have to endure the same things every year.

you had struggled to fall asleep the night before, that exact thought on your mind and the dread of facing the following day eating away at you. you had only managed to get some rest because of taeyong, who held onto you tightly and caressed your hair as he whispered sweet words to ease you into much needed sleep.

but the day was here now and there was no amount of romantic words or tender touches that would change that. there was absolutely nothing either of you could do about it.

you lean over towards your nightstand to turn off the alarm and taeyong stirs when he feels you begin to shift around in his arms. you lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling as he slowly begins to wake up. he yawns and stretches his limbs out on the mattress which was routinely for him. this would usually be followed by him trying to give you a smooch only for you to squirm away, giggling as you complained about his morning breath.

it is not one of those mornings.

8:09 A.M.

you end up having cereal for breakfast, another big switch up from your routine. normally, you two would browse the internet in search of a recipe that looked promising and try your best to recreate it. you would end up with flour, sugar and dirty dishes all over the place but you never cared. then you would sit at the couch, happily enjoying the finished product and chatting with the tv playing softly in the background.

that morning you sit at the dinner table silently, the cereal in your bowls going soggy before either of you had made a dent in it. you had lost any appetite and from the looks of it so has taeyong.

“you should eat.”

you glance up at your boyfriend. he isn’t eating either, instead he focuses on dipping his spoon into his cereal, bringing it above the bowl only to let it fall back in again. you put your silverware down. “i don’t think i can.”

he hums softly, agreeing with you. “are you nervous?”

it went without saying that you were both terrified. but you know he’s just trying to make conversation. you just nod your head anyway.

10:31 A.M.

you and taeyong move to sit on the couch, turning on the tv so you don’t have to bear anymore uncomfortable silences.

even the newscaster looks down in the dumps, as expected. her voice lacks emotion as she speaks about the forecast, knowing nobody would be taking genuine interest unless it was to get their mind off of the current situation.

what did she expect? the world was restarting, people weren’t going to care about the weather.

“now, for the ongoing events,” says another news anchor. “as we are all well aware of, today is the annual reset. businesses worldwide have closed, most people opting to spend the day with their friends and family and we advise any viewers to do the same. talk to your loved ones about the memories you’ve made in the past year and write down the things and people you do not want to forget.”

you turn to taeyong only to find his gaze is already focused on you. you don’t hesitate to grab the hand that rests in his lap and intertwined his fingers with yours. neither of you say a word as you go back to watching the television, taeyong giving your hand a reassuring squeeze every so often.

12:46 P.M.

by noon, you and taeyong had begun cleaning your apartment, making sure it was well organized so that the next day you could focus only on getting settled in to your, essentially, new lives. you do the standard dusting and vacuuming along with similar around-the-house chores. while going through the closet, taeyong finds a shoe box full of polaroids you two had taken throughout the years. there are dates and other additional notes scribbled in sharpie on every single picture so your post-reset selves could read about the details of each photo since you would not be able to remember it. he calls out your name, smiling brightly when he sees your face light up as you fondly look over your shared moments.

“i’m so glad we got that camera,” you say, shifting through a stack of the photographs.

he nods. “probably your best idea yet.”

you find a picture of him giving you a piggyback ride and coo. it’s quite blurry but you can clearly see the huge grins on your faces. “look at us.” you hand him the photo. “we look so happy.”

he makes a noise of agreement, staring lovingly at the image. “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”

“quit it.” you shove his shoulder, smiling sadly as you attempt to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. “i don’t want to cry right now, there’s still so much work to do.”

“it can wait.” he opens his arms and that’s all it takes for you to break. you crawl into his embrace, sobbing softly into his chest. it tugs at his heart strings. he tucks his chin above your head but you still notice how his shoulders shake and quiet hiccups escape his lips.

3:28 P.M.

once you and taeyong get tired of being confined to your apartment, you decide to go out for a breath of fresh air. you walk around aimlessly and your final destination turns out to be olympic park. as expected, it’s quite empty since as you had heard on the news, everyone was spending their last couple hours with those they loved in private.

you take in the beautiful scenery and if either you catch sight of a pretty rock or blooming flower, you will stop to pick it up and carefully place it in your pockets for safe keeping. you had found that they served as good reminders of all the time you spent together. in fact, there are many more of these mini souvenirs in your home, decorating your shelves.

“hold up,” says taeyong suddenly.

when you look at him his eyes have zeroed in on something on the ground. he kneels down and picks up a smooth rock. you can’t help but notice the familiarity of it’s color.

“pretty, right?” he says, dropping the item in the palm of your hand. “it matches your eyes.”

you smile at him, finding his attention to detail incredibly endearing. you hold on to the rock, feeling its curves with your fingers until a cluster of chrysanthemums catches your attention and you have to free up your hands to pick one. you decide on a yellow one and present it to your boyfriend.

“here,” you say. “for you.”

“hey, aren’t i supposed to be the one giving you flowers?” taeyong asks but he takes it from you anyway.

“you’re supposed to give flowers to people you like,” you say. “and i like you.”

“you like me?” he asks, gasping softly. “how embarrassing.”

you go along with his joke. “don’t you like me too?”

he shakes his head and makes a face. “no way... i love you.”

you shove his shoulder. “so cheesy.”

he can’t argue with that so he just nods and chuckles as he tucks the chrysanthemum into his dark locks of hair. at seeing this, you raise the polaroid camera round your neck toward taeyong and he, already used to it, automatically poses for you. he puts his arms over his head, curving them into a kind of crooked heart. he gives an open mouthed smile only resuming to his normal position when he hears the click of the camera. you and him share a laugh once the polaroid picture develops completely.

“oh god, i look ridiculous,” he comments. “please get rid of that.”

you only give him a sarcastic, “yeah sure” and continue walking.

you two never got rid of pictures, no matter how ridiculous or unflattering they were. you agreed that every moment you shared counted and deserved to be remembered.

although, they never would be.

5:45 P.M.

you chew on the cap of your pen, massaging your aching hand. you had been writing for almost an hour and you had your cramping fingers to prove it. despite the discomfort, you aren’t one to break tradition. the ‘things i love about you’ list was an ongoing thing you and taeyong had been doing for... ever. they definitely came in handy if either if you wanted to read about what the other was like in past years.

“everything good over there?” taeyong asks, from the other side of the couch.

you shake your head. “this is too hard. i have no idea how i’ve kept this up for four years.”

he puts a hand over his heart. “wow, i’m that hard to love, huh?”

“you know that’s not what i meant,” you say, glaring. “i just have so much stuff to say about you, so much stuff i want future me to know.”

he nods, solemnly. “i get it. i don’t want to leave out a thing but it’s kinda hard to fit a year’s worth of feelings and emotions into a couple pages.”

your let your head fall onto the couch. “why do you have to be so lovable?”

taeyong points an accusing finger at you. “i could ask you the same thing! you’re the most wonderful human being on the planet, if i try to write everything i love about you my hand will fall off!”

you sit up to stare at him. he looks genuinely offended by your ‘wonderfulness’. you pick up your pen and paper.

adorably dramatic, you write.

he scoots closer to you, exclaiming, “hey, what did you just put!”

you hug your notepad tightly to your chest. “no peeking!”

7:12 P.M.

your boyfriend hands you his letter with hopeful eyes. unlike the lists that had been made hours earlier, these writings had been in the works for quite some time. there are letters you and taeyong had written for each other dated all the way from 2016. that was also the year the first polaroids you owned were from so you both assumed it was when you had begun dating. if you ever want to have a good cry, all you have to do is find those letters.

in them, there are heartfelt words for the other person’s eyes only describing how they felt around them, why they were so special, among other sentiments. most importantly, though, you always included why you would never forget the other person. of course, one could say how ironic this was considering that forgetting was what the reset was all about but nevertheless, it was reassuring to read. it made your love seem unbreakable; something so strong it defied the impossible.

you give taeyong your letter, feeling somewhat nervous. he doesn’t hesitate to open the envelope carefully. he slowly removes your letter from inside and you mirror his delicacy. the pair of you sit in absolute silence as you read the words off the pages.

my y/n,

what an amazing year it’s been with you. i know i say that in every letter i write but it’s really true. i never wrote things like this before you came along. only the basics—my name, who my parents were, my birthday, etc. you know, things like that. frankly, i had nothing else worth remembering. but now i do. you’re my whole world, the only thing i truly know and i am convinced i could not be any happier or luckier.

i don’t know what a life without you is like literally but i wouldn’t have it any other way. the situation the world faces with this whole reset mess isn’t ideal and i’ll oftentimes think of what a normal life would be like. even then, in this perfect universe, you’re still by my side.

i still wake up next to you.

i still spend every waking moment with you.

i still fall asleep with you in my arms.

you are still my everything. i am convinced you always will be.

many people avoid love or close relationships nowadays knowing that at the end of the year it’ll all be erased no matter what. how dumb is that? they don’t know what they’re missing out on. having a partner is nothing short of a blessing and you’ve taught me that by being with me every step of the way. sure, forgetting our past together doesn’t get any easier and neither does writing these letters but i’d write a million of them if that’s what it took to have you by my side.

i can only hope you’ll continue being there for me and give me something worth remembering in future years.

you are the light of my life and i can’t wait to fall in love with you again.

yours truly,

taeyong

the tears stroll down your cheeks and drip down on to the paper in your shaky hands. you use your sleeve to try and wipe them away to the best of your ability without smudging the ink. taeyong finishes reading your letter moments later, placing on the coffee table and only staring at you with a distant look in his eyes.

your voice comes out in a whisper. “are you okay?”

he nods, sniffling but his shiny eyes say otherwise. “can you maybe just... hold me?” his voice cracks along with your heart.

he ends up with his head in your lap, your fingers pulling and tugging at his soft hair. you have a couple hours left but you wouldn’t be opposed to leaving the year in this exact position.

11:59 P.M.

taeyong has made it clear he wants you to be the first thing he sees when you enter the new year. so, you spend your last minute getting into a position that will allow that.

you end up sitting sit cross-legged across from him. he’s in the same position and in the small distance between you, your fingers meet. the hold he has on your hands is so tight his knuckles have turned white. his eyes bore into yours and although he doesn’t say a word, his hazel orbs let you know it’s all going to be okay. you repeat those words to yourself.

it’s going to be okay.

“i love you,” you blurt.

he only has a couple seconds to respond.

“i love you, too. if you’re going to remember one thing, let it be that.”

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getthesamovarready · 3 years

Text

Do I Make You Nervous?

Owen x Michelle

@owelleweek day 2: "Please be careful" + suspense

He's been sluggish all day. From the moment he woke up he's been dragging his feet, and nothing has managed to perk him up. Even in the field he's been slow, his reflexes not what they usually are.

So when he decides to pull the Captain card and insists he be the one to enter the unstable building again Michelle is less than impressed.

"Owen you can't do this today." She hisses, even as he suits himself up. "You know you're not a hundred percent today."

"Michelle I'm totally fine, nothing to worry about." Winking at her, but his jaw betrays him. He's not up for this. "I'll be in and out before you know it." He rests a hand on her hip, giving it a light pat before moving away. He glances around them, hoping no one was watching.

The team are great, but they tend to make gossip last weeks. And he would rather not subject himself to it until he's sure it won't scare Michelle away. Michelle values the respect of her team more than a lot of things. It was part of the reason it took them so long to start dating, she's unfailingly professional.

"Please be careful, okay?" She whispers, and he can hear her trying to swallow back a choke.

"Yeah, I'll be careful." He assures her. "I'll be out in no time, and you can watch the whole thing." He wants to kiss her, just give her a peck on the cheek to calm her down.

"Fine." She rolls her eyes, smiling softly at him.

She smiles less when he actually enters the building. She hovers by Judd, trying not to let her anxiety show. But she is sure that it is coming off her in waves. She isn't usually anywhere near this nervous when he does things like this. She would be a constant mess if she was. But he was tripping over his own feet earlier. And he really can't afford to do that right now.

But he does. And that stumble sends rubble crashing down around him. She screws her eyes shut as it happens, the crash more than enough to send bile rising in her throat. She's waiting for a cough. Won't open her eyes until she hears him cough.

"Cap? Captain?" Judd questions next to her. So he doesn't know what's going on either. Michelle screws her hands up at her sides, and at this point she doesn't care that much if everyone notices.

She hears him cough. "Judd?" He splutters.

"Yeah Cap?"

"Tell Michelle I'm gonna need some stitches." It takes all she has not to cry while she laughs.

It is too long before he emerges, and she can't help the desire to rush to hold him. She comes to her senses within seconds of embracing him, jumping backwards when she realizes. "That was stupid."

"I know."

"I told you so." She smiles softly, taking his arm to lead him to the rig. "Let's get you fixed up."

She is glad that the rest of the team is busy right now, it's best that they don't see her hands shaking as she attempts to clean the gash on his forehead. He chuckles when she pulls out a suture kit. "Not getting out of this without a scar am I?"

"If you weren't an idiot you would have." Her jaw is set, not in the mood for teasing.

"Michelle…"

"Don't." She swallows, pulling a little too hard on the skin of his forehead. "I have to concentrate." He let's her, stews in his guilty silence until she puts the needle down. She turns sharply to walk away, stopped only by his arm snaking around her waist.

"Michelle I'm sorry." He tries to get her to understand, but all she seems to want to do is pull away from him. "I won't do it again. I love you." She stops struggling against him, though it was weak to begin with. Now she just stares at him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he means it. Now or never.

He tightens his grip on her waist, pulling her into him further. She knows what's going to happen, but can't quite believe he'd kiss her here, out in the open, with all the team around them. But he does, snaking his free hand around cup the back of her head. Distantly, they can hear shouts and cheers from the team. But it doesn't matter while she smiles into him, and he whispers his promises.

#owelleweek2020 #owelle week 2020 #michelle blake #michelle x owen #owen strand #911 lonestar

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kyloswarstars · 4 years

Text

Come on! • Part 3 – „Midnight Talks“

Peaky Blinders • Mini-Series

Vendetta had brought your family back to Small Heath for a while. As a Blinder you received orders from Tommy like everyone else did as well. Your current one: Keep eyes on Bonnie Gold. When you first heard those words you wouldn’t have dared to imagine this order would take a complete turn on you.

Pairing • Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

Words • 1.8k

Come on! • masterlist

/////

Oh boy, had it been a struggle to get permission to leave the city. Tommy was immediately like ‚NO! The vendettaaaaaaaa‘. Arthur ran around the kitchen like a mad cat, expected you to stay sat at the kitchen table as he gave a list of instructions on what not to do. Including not to smoke any of the weeds they might offer you or – and the even funnier one – get knocked up. To complete the protective trio, you imagined John sitting with you and just casually pushing a gun over the table. ‚You never know, kid‘, he said in your head.

It was Aunt Pol who tricked your older brothers into agreeing. You hadn’t asked her about it afterwards, but you could feel that she helped you because she was craving the woods just as much as you were. „We can see how honest Aberama Gold really is. He will prove his sincerity by protecting her,“ she explained. And that worked because on Friday you arrived at the forest. Together with Bonnie.

Friday was the day where he introduced you to his sisters, his father – officially, because you had seen him before but that was rather business wise – and to all his relatives that were staying at the campsite. You had hoped to sneak away for a while and just stroll around, just be. You didn’t get a chance, though. Being the ‚new‘ one there, you were drawn into a conversation whenever you had ended the previous one. Later in the evening you found out that they speculated you to be Bonnie’s new girlfriend, which you denied immediately – exactly like Bonnie who sat next to you. It was a rather awkward situation but everyone just laughed it away – and found the two of you strongly unconvincing.

Saturday was when you were able to sneak away. Bonnie followed you. He scared the hell out of you when he jumped from behind a tree. „Didn’t think I would notice you leaving, hm?“ He had teased you. And again, you turned away because it was flattering. Usually people didn’t pay that much attention. Bonnie wasn’t like everyone else.

He joined you for a walk through the trees. You picked up small twigs, shared childhood memories and didn’t realise all of the memories you talked about had John in them. It wasn’t upsetting when you realised it. later No clouds were lurking. Just Bonnie who patiently listened and then shared one of his memories again.

Saturday night, just like the night before, Bonnie gave up his bed for you again and slept on the floor of his caravan. You had told him it wouldn’t be a problem for you to sleep on the floor instead. It was his bed after all. He insisted you’d take it.

„Y/N? Are you awake?“

His whisper was very quiet in case you were asleep. You weren’t. „Yeah,“ you answered. After sharing all those memories today and being fine with it at first, you had this weird feeling now. It was none of those you were used to. It was something else you couldn’t pin down and it was bothering you to the point where it was impossible to just fall asleep over it.

Bonnie got on his feet, wrapped himself in his blanket and grabbed another one off the pile at the end of his bed. „Wrap yourself in yours and follow me.“

You didn’t react first while trying to answer the question as to why you should follow him.

„Or are you tired and want to sleep?“

„No.“ Getting up and wrapping the blanket around your body, you followed him outside.

Not far away from his caravan, he spread the blanket on the ground where the trees were further apart. Laying down, you could see through the openings in the treetops and were greeted by the night sky and all its shining stars.

Bonnie laid down next to you with his arm touching yours. The blankets were still between your arms but it felt way too close. Also way too good to move away, though.

„You do this a lot?“

„I think I don’t because every time I lay down here, I’m blown away all over again.“ His voice was as quiet as back in the caravan. Something about his voice being so careful and relaxed made you feel warm. „Are you having a good time, Y/N?“

„I am,“ you smiled. When you turned to your left you saw Bonnie staring at you. How long had he been looking at you instead up into the sky?

„I’m glad to hear.“ Somehow, it was impossible to return to the night sky. His face, illuminated by the full moon, felt more intriguing to look at right now.

That’s when this strange feeling hit like a horse’s hoof in the face. It made you question why you were even here. Why you had accepted his invitation. Why did you bring a potential vendetta target, you, here to Bonnie and his family? Are you fucking mad? He was way too good to be pulled into this. He shouldn’t have become a Blinder, his father should’ve never accepted Tommy’s deal.

You turned away from his face, sat up and stared back up through the treetops. „You do know this cap doesn’t come without burdens, right?“ Him being a Blinder, the chance of being used by Tommy if he needed an idiot to do god knows what, was unsettling. Or more upsetting. There was a lot you didn’t care about but Bonnie wasn’t part of that. You did care way too much for him. „Sooner or later you’ll die because you’re wearing this cap.“

This was another proof that you had let this come too far: He caught your sudden change of mood and it would’ve surprised you if he didn’t.

„Y/N, just like you, I make my own decisions.“ His voice was still relaxed, maybe even more so now to try calm you down. „I’d rather wear this cap, accomplish my dreams and die young than scrape a living without ever coming close to follow my dreams.“

„And you couldn’t have looked for someone else to help you with your dreams?“ Because if he had you wouldn’t have to care about if he got hurt one day. Or killed.

Bonnie sat up as well. „If I did… I wouldn’t have met you.“

„Bonnie.“ A deep sigh escaped your lips while your heart had problems to continue beating. You didn’t really know how to handle the conflict you felt right now.

„Did I say something wrong?“ He laid his head on his knees, watching you in the moonshine and was once again way too understanding and careful to do the right thing.

„You’re not doing anything wrong. That’s the problem…“, you admitted, finally looking at him again.

„Why would this be a problem?“

„Because–“ Yeah, why? „Because…“ Putting your thoughts into words wasn’t that easy. Why was it always so hard to form sentences? Why could you not just send your feelings and thoughts to someone else – if it worked that way misunderstanding wouldn’t be word in the dictionary. „My head is telling me that I’m not good for you.“

Silence spread. You couldn’t stop the thoughts repeating in your head that you should get the fuck out of here and slap Tommy in the face for making you keep eyes on Bonnie Gold. You were unable to estimate what was going through Bonnie’s mind.

He laid down again, arms crossed under his head. „I think you’re forgetting I’m a dangerous man.“

That caught you so off guard, it immediately made you laugh out loud. The exchange of the first day at King Maine’s together popped up in your brain. Never would’ve you thought Bonnie would have such an impact on you.

„Y/N, you said you don’t do anything you’re not enjoying. Sometimes you have to take risks for the things, or the people, you enjoy.“

„You shouldn’t be a risk taker. I don’t want you to get hurt.“

Bonnie tugged at your arm and pulled you down to lay next to him again. Facing his eyes, he locked with yours and keeping them fixed so you wouldn’t dare to look away again, you felt his arm move. His hand was searching its way into your blanket mess and when it found your hand, Bonnie intertwined his fingers with yours. „To be honest: at this point the only one who could hurt me is you. By backing away from me.“

Fuck. Your heart might just burst into a million pieces. But at the same time it couldn’t be true because it beat so rapidly in your chest. He did everything right. And that was the problem. How were you able to resist falling for him if he gave you the feeling that being unconditionally you was everything he wanted you to be? No chance.

Grabbing onto his hand like life depended on it, you noticed Bonnie’s face slowly coming closer. If he was willing the risk to get hurt, you couldn’t deny him to make his own decision. And you could decide not to shy away from his proximity. And you didn’t. Not now.

His nose slightly brushed against yours, his breath hot on your face in this cold night. For all you had done before, nothing had made you feel that anxious before. Not, because you were scared of actually kissing him – you anticipated it – but what it would do to you. It would be impossible to turn around after it. Bonnie would conquer your heart and you wouldn’t be able to keep away from his kind soul that made you feel welcomed anymore.

„You can still get away from the curse Shelby’s bring on the people around them,“ you tried one last time.

„Just, shut up, Y/N.“ It was the first time he eagerly wanted you quiet. Because this time, he pressed his lips on yours. Not lightly, not delicate – his body moved closer to yours and his lips moved against yours like it wasn’t the first time they touched them.

It all felt strangely familiar and so fucking warm. Your free hand, because the other one was still locked with Bonnie’s, moved into his hair. He smiled, when your fingertips were caressing his neck. „Tell me, you enjoying this?“

You were hardly able to answer because Bonnie’s mouth didn’t really let go of yours. Somehow you managed a simple ‚yes‘ through it all. And it was you who had to smile next. You had never felt something so intense before. You didn’t really know how love would be but you didn’t expect it to be that way. And it to happen so fast. Falling in love with Bonnie had been easy.

Spending this night under the stars was easy. In his arms. With his lips on yours. Your fingers intertwined. It felt like you were at a place where time didn’t exist. You wished you could stay there for as long as possible. With him.

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dakarimainink · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: Blood Money

WARNING: 18+, violence, blood, body burning, language, hint of sex

Characters: F!OC, River Ward, M!OC, Wakako Okada

Wordcount: 6,6K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own

Ch1

Masterlist

Aria’s body was sore and it begged her to stay in bed when she woke up that early evening, but her daily routine was not going to be broken due to the inconvenience of pain. She had crawled out of bed, forced on a pair of yoga pants and tied her jogging shoes while mentally preparing herself for her jog. Her wounds were aching and sensitive, especially the sown hole in her abdomen.

She took another route than her usual run. She jogged along the road towards California and Cartwright to have a look at the ocean. The air was crisp and the sun had just raised above the tall buildings, casting long shadows and drowning away the neon lights. Her earbuds were pumping out music from Body Heat Radio. The beats made her push through her groaning muscles and go a little longer.

Through the upbeat music, she heard the scream of a woman. She immediately popped one of her earbuds out, letting it hang down on its string. A woman ahead of her were running and pointing towards a man with a bright yellow handbag.

“Please, someone, thief.” The woman yelled while trying to stay in pursuit of the escaping man.

Her body were protesting before she could even think of what to do, but it didn’t help. She immediately darted forward, rushing down the road to try and catch up with the fleeing man. Aria passed the yelling woman who seemed surprised that someone actually listened to her pleas.

Slowly she caught up with the man, he took a sudden turn down an alleyway and she almost slipped on the road to follow him. She felt the stitches on her abdomen almost tear at the movement. She let out a grunt as she found her balance and dashed down after him.

The man stopped at the end of the alley, finding it blocked by a tall concrete wall. The only door available was locked as he tried to tear it open. Aria caught her breath as she realised he had nowhere to go.

She straightened up and looked at the man. “Nowhere to go, just hand over the bag and I won’t take you in for stealing.”

The man clutched to the bag with big eyes, but his expression changed to a smirk. “Fuck you.” He spat out.

Aria was pushed against the wall by a second man who had managed to sneak up behind her. Her head hit the concrete and pain shot through her body. A closed fist met her stomach, tearing at the stitches. She gasped in pain, holding on her wound. Another fist came flying towards her and she ducked away.

Before he could retrieve his hand, she grabbed it, twisted his palm up and pushed his elbow up, popping it out the wrong way. The man howled out in pain and she quickly jabbed him in the throat, rendering him silent as he choked on his Adam’s apple. He fell down on his knees while struggling to breathe.

The man with the purse jumped past her, but she grabbed his sweater and pulled him back. She kneed him in the groin, making him drop the purse to the ground. She fisted her hand and punched him in the stomach before grabbing his head and slamming it to her knee. The man tipped backwards unconscious.

The rush of adrenaline made her hands tremble and she stared at the two men lying on the ground. She picked up the purse and brushed away the dust.

The owner of the purse jogged up behind her and let out a gasp at the sight of the men. “Did you do this?” She asked.

“Yes, just call the police, they’ll pick them up.” Aria handed over the purse.

The woman let out another terrified gasp. “Oh dear, you’re bleeding.” She pointed at her stomach.

She looked down and saw the red stain on her top. Fucking great. She placed her hand over the wound and pressed down. The blood seeped between her fingers and a hushed moan slipped between her lips. “Would you mind calling a taxi as well?”

Aria was sitting on the floor in her bathroom with a vodka bottle and first aid kit next to her. She hissed as she poured the clear liquid on her open wound on her abdomen. She breathed as slowly as she could as she pulled out the last string of suture in her skin.

She took a swig from the bottle before she prepared the new string of suture and needle. She looked down on the hole and her spine trembled. “Okay, okay, okay… You can do this. You can do this.” She tried hard to encourage herself, but her shaking hand proved otherwise. She took a deep breath and forced the needle through her flesh. Her teeth were clenched as she fought to keep herself from screaming. As she pressed the needle through her flesh a second time, tears rolled down her cheek. She didn’t realise it was this painful to stitch herself up.

Blood kept running out of her wound as she kept sewing herself back together. By the third stitch she couldn’t hold herself quiet anymore. She wailed out and slammed her head back into the wall.

Several loud bangs against her door made her freeze. “Aria?” The familiar voice called out. “What’s going?”

Fuck, it’s River. She darted her eyes from her wound to the living room. Ah shit. She gulped, knowing he had heard her scream.

“The code is my birthday.” She yelled out. She heard him tap it in before she could even take in another breath.

The door opened and River charged in with two grocery bags in his hands. He dropped them when he saw Aria sitting on the floor with a half stitched wound.

“Aria.” He gasped and rushed over to her side. “What happened?”

“It got torn open on my run.”

He sighed and shook his head. “This is why you should have stayed in the hospital, you stubborn woman.” He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it behind him. He reached over and put on the gloves from the med kit. Without a word, he took the needle from her and glanced at the bottle of vodka.

“For the pain.” She smirked through the ache. She picked the glass bottle up and took a few chugs. “For the pain.” She whispered to herself and leaned her head back.

Her hands were fisted and jaw strained as River closed up the wound. He cleaned away the blood on her skin and placed a fresh bandage over the sore flesh.

“Next time, you stay in the hospital.” It sounded like a scolding rather than a plea. He pulled off the gloves and stood up. She looked up at him and silently agreed to his words. He helped her up to her feet and over to the sofa where she sat down. He went back to the bathroom to clean up the blood, alcohol and the old bandage.

“You’re here early.” She noted.

“Yeah, and glad I am too.” He walked over to her with the vodka bottle. “Your stitching skills are not up to date.” He handed her the bottle with a smirk.

She grabbed it and rolled her eyes. “You try and sew yourself up with no painkillers.”

“I wouldn’t have to, because I would stay in the hospital.”

She chuckled and took one last swig from the bottle. She handed it back and he gulped back the remaining liquid.

“So, are you here to teach me a lesson or to cook for me?” She teased and grinned up at him.

He shook his head and walked over to the grocery bags. “Cook for you?”

“Well yes, I am, after all, a helpless woman in pain.”

He snickered. “Helpless? You’re probably the least helpless woman in this city.” He walked into the kitchen with the bags. “So unless you want to miss the delicious taste of my Jambalaya, you better get your ass in the kitchen.”

She got up from the couch and ambled over to the kitchen. River was already unpacking the groceries. He peeked over his shoulder when he heard her approaching steps. She leaned on the kitchen counter and glanced at all the groceries laid out before her.

He handed her an onion without a word. She shrugged and found a cutting board and knife, peeled the onion and started cutting. She had barely cut half of the onion when tears gathered in her eyes. She squinted as she tried not to let the tears roll. River found the sight amusing and sniggered while he stirred the food. For each vegetable she cut and added to the pot, a new one was placed next to her. Somehow she managed to keep the knife away from her fingers and blood away from the food.

“Alright, now we just gotta let it simmer.” River walked over to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. “Let’s sit down in the living room.” He popped the caps off with his right metal hand and both wandered back into the living room.

They sat down next to each other with a huff. Aria snuggled up in the corner of the sofa and stretched her legs out, placing them over his lap.

He rose an eyebrows at her.

“What? Not my fault you sat down exactly where I was going to lay my legs.” She flashed him a smug smile and took a sip from the chill bottle.

He shook his head in response and took a swig from his own bottle.

“Any update on the case?” She asked.

He sighed with a faint smile. “Eager as always, Aria.” He turned his head to look at her. He scanned her face, her beautiful clear face with a pair of curious brown eyes. “The tech department is still trying to recover whatever they can. I’ll let you know as soon as they find something.”

Her eyes lowered and she chewed on her inner cheek.

“What?”

She shrugged. “It’s just that…” She hesitated. “I feel like I screwed up.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Because I damaged the chip.”

“Aria, you defended yourself. I rather have a useless chip than a dead partner.”

She looked up at him with big eyes. “Really?”

He let out a half supress chuckle. “Aria.” He turned in the sofa towards her, holding her legs in place so they didn’t slip off him. “Your life is worth more than anything.” His fingers caressed her leg carefully, nipping at her grey joggers.

Aria pulled her legs back and stood up. She walked across the living room to the big wide window looking out on the city. She crossed her arms, still holding the beer in one hand, and scanned the people walking down below. “Our line of work should tell you a lot about my view on that topic, River. I wouldn’t even consider waking up every day for this job, if I for even one second believed my life was worth more than the people begging for scraps on the streets.” She turned to him. “I put my life out there, to protect everyone else. We are a shield to be used and to be sacrificed, not to be hung up on the wall like a decoration, useless and gathering dust.”

He got up from the couch and left his bottle on the coffee table. He made his way over to her and placed himself right in front of her. His head was tilted down, catching her gaze. “Aria, for me your life is worth more than anything else.”

She turned her head and gazed out the window. “It shouldn’t. You shouldn’t get attached like that.” She sounded frustrated. “One day, suddenly they will be gone and that’s it. You will constantly drown yourself in pain until you’re either numb or dead.” Her words stung deeper within herself. Her mind almost went numb and her eyes pricked in the corner.

To hold back the tears, she took a few gulps from the beer and stepped past him. “Let’s check up on the Jambalaya.”

Aira and River sauntered down the hallway next to each other. A light breeze from the late evening rustled through their clothes. It sent a light shiver down her spine as River tried to explain the difference between a raven and a crow.

“Crows are more social and will often travel in larger groups, while ravens like to travel in pairs. They also make different sounds, so when you hear cawing sounds, it’s a crow, while a raven make a more croaking sound.” He was deep into explaining the difference, while Aria tried her hardest to keep her focus on him. She found it harder than she wanted to admit.

She sighed. “River, I’m never going to have use of this information.”

“Never say never.”

She rose an eyebrow at him. “Actually, this time I will.” She shook her head while rolling her eyes. He bumped her shoulder with his and chuckled.

Aria stopped mid step and stared to her right. River stopped a step ahead of her and looked back at her. “What is it?” He followed her gaze and ended up looking at the half open door to an apartment. He furrowed his brows at the sight. In the corner of his eye, he saw Aria walk towards the door and he followed her.

Aria placed her hand on the chill metal door and slid it open. Her eyes widened at the sight. Harry’s apartment was turned upside down. All his belongings were torn and shred all over the floor. His couch was ripped apart and all mirrors were shattered. There were blood splatter on the floor and up the walls.

Aria gaped in disbelief and felt a knot in her stomach. “I am afraid that next time you pass this door, I might not be here.” Harry’s words echoed in her head and she felt nauseous. She gasped and covered her mouth. Fuck Harry, how deep were you? She stepped into the apartment slowly and remembered the terrified Harry lying on the floor. She knelt down and touched the floor, her fingers brushing against the broken glass and dust. She looked over her shoulder at River.

“Aria, we should leave.” He suggested and met her low gaze.

Her lips were parted as she scanned his face. “I need a ride.”

He knew what she wanted; he could read it in her eyes. He didn’t like it; it was obvious some shady shit had gone down and she wanted to go chase after it. Her determination would get her killed one day and knowing that made him sick to the core.

Aria got out of River’s truck. The pink neon sign of Jig-Jig Street reflected in the several puddles on the ground. The people wandering the streets did not try to hide their intentions of getting laid or getting high. The place was known for its darker alleys, but still it attracted everyone who looked for the more exotic wares of Night City.

River jogged around his truck and stopped next to Aria. He scanned the neon lit streets in front of them. He did not like the fact that they were here, but even less considering it was Tyger Claw territory.

“Remind me again why we’re here.” He looked at Aria who seemed uncomfortable of being here.

She sighed, not out of annoyance, but because she felt she had to be here. “You don’t have to come with me, River.”

“What? And watch you walk into these dangerous alleys by yourself? I don’t think so.” He seemed offended that she would even suggest such a thing. “I just don’t get why we have to be here.”

She turned to him. “Because Wakako Okada is here and I know she has relations to the Tyger Claws.”

“We have several files on the TC at the office.” He advised and rose his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She titled her head and shook it. “River, they took him. I know they did. And I…” She choked at the image of beaten up Harry.

“Just… if I go missing, promise to look for me. I don’t want to rot in an abandoned building or container. Find me and burry me, anywhere, even a dumpster, but just burry my body, please.” His frail words echoed inside her mind. His plea was tearing her heart. She never were close with the man, but that moment, when he was truly at the breaking point, she felt for him. He had no one else and they both knew that, and he had asked her to find him and to bury him, because they knew the Tyger Claws would never bury his body in a proper way. They would probably chuck him in a container or at the side of the road in the Badlands.

“Let’s just go.” She was about to walk when River’s hand grabbed her arm. She halted and looked at him.

“If something feels off, we’re out.”

She nodded. He let go of her and they begun their cautious walk down the wet and somewhat crowded horny streets. The first thing to meet them were the almost blinding neon signs begging the wanderers outside to come in and let off some steam. Every now and then, a person would call out for you, tempt you to come inside and have some fun. The place were covered in some kind of lingering fog that smelled of sex, drugs and alcohol.

Aria had never been here before, but heard other colleagues talk about the place. Often people would walk in with a wallet and leave with a broken nose and empty pockets. She couldn’t understand how someone would even consider wandering these streets when they knew the dangers lurking. But considering the many empty and easily fooled minds of NC, it wasn’t hard to believe the place managed to bloom.

River seemed equally uncomfortable, she saw his tense shoulders and strained face. He was walking as close to her as possible without bumping into her. While he kept his eyes forward, Aria couldn’t help but look at everything around them. She was curious, even though it was a lot to take in.

“Hey, you lookin’ for some company tonight?” Aria stopped when the female leaning on a concrete barrier purred at her in a suggestive way.

Her eyes immediately were caught by the leopard bodice and fishnet stockings. “I’m sorry, what?”

The woman took a drag from her cigarette and winked at her. “Do you wanna have some fun?”

River’s eyes darted from the lady to Aria and back again. Before they could exchange any more words, he hooked her arm and pulled her with him. “Moving on.” He said as he kept her arm hooked in his as they walked.

They stopped outside of Wakako’s Pachinko Parlour. It was a small establishment with several pachinko machines lined up against the walls. A few of the seats were taken. The place was dimly lit, most of the light coming from the beeping machines.

The walked down the small pathway, trying not to bump into the men with their faces glued to the gambling machines. They passed through the door opening on the left side.

A big man dressed in a silvery tracksuit and black boots held out his arm, stopping them in passing through the bead curtain. Aria peeked at the figure of a female inside the room in front of them, before her eyes dragged up to the wide man who had stopped them.

River straightened his back, making himself half a head taller than the impassive man.

“I would like to talk with Wakako Okada.” Aria said, more like a request than an order.

The man shook his head, still no expression on his face.

River crossed his arms and puffed his chest. “Come on, we just want to talk.”

She wanted to skip under his arm and rush in, but the thought about being dragged out of there, probably by the hair, was not tempting.

“It’s okay, Benjiro, let them through.” A raspy female voice came through the beads.

The man’s arm lowered and they both passed him into the room ahead. As soon as they stepped into the room and met the scrutinizing gaze of the silver haired woman, they both felt small. Her eyes were fixed at Aria, who tried hard not to hide behind River’s broad frame.

“I assume you know who I am, considering you came to me.” Wakako crossed one leg over the other and entwined her fingers in her lap. “And I know you are the police girl.” She darted her eyes at River. “But you, I do not know.”

He crossed his arms and leaned his weight to one side. “And you don’t need to know either.”

She scoffed. “Don’t worry, I’ll know soon enough.” Her eyes returned to Aria. “Your friend kept crying about you when he was here.”

Aria’s eyes widened. Harry?

“Of course, he had difficulty saying it, considering the amount of blood pooling in his mouth.”

Aria tightened her hands into fists. It was a test, she knew it, but she wouldn’t fall for it.

“It took a bit of time to get the floors cleaned up, but I believe we got it all out of the wood.” A sly smirk grew on her lips. A degrading smile that spat acid at her. Wakako really wanted to see how far she could push.

Aria clenched her teeth. “Where is he?”

“Last I heard, he was lying in a pool of his own blood with most of his teeth missing.” She seemed comfortable in her seat, considering the picture she was currently painting with her words. “And a few fingers.” She added.

River noted the tension in Aria’s muscles and took a step closer to her. “Aria, relax.” He whispered.

“I imagine he doesn’t have much time left, if any at all.”

“Aria, do not let her get to you.” His voice whispered over her shoulder.

“I am scared, Aria.” It shouldn’t have cut this deep, his words shouldn’t have gotten to her, but she knew the feeling of being helpless, of knowing you’re fucked.

Aria exhaled deeply. “Where is he, Okada?”

The silver haired lioness shrugged.

Aria slammed her fists into the shiny wooden desk. A tense silence swept over them. Her eyes were drilled into Wakako’s gaze. Her heart sank when she realised what she had done, but it was too late to take it back. She kept her fists on the table, waiting for a reaction.

Nothing.

Wakako sat there quietly, examining the seemingly pissed of young woman. She hadn’t flinched when Aria’s fists had hit the surface, she knew it would come, mostly because she knew exactly how to read people. She leaned forward and picked up a half smoked cigarette from the ashtray on the table. She lit it up with a golden lighter and took a deep drag. She blew the smoke in Aria’s face, who still stood still bent forward.

“I will tell you, in exchange for a certain file you have at the NCPD.” She finally said.

Aria slid her hands off the desk and straightened up. “What file?”

“El Víbaro.”

“That’s just a myth.” River shot in.

Aria glanced over her shoulder at him with furrowed brows.

Wakako chuckled with a smirk. “If it’s just a myth, then why do you have a file?” He had no response. “Do we have a deal?”

Aria looked back at Wakako. “Deal.”

River grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. “Aria, we can’t just hand out files from the NCPD. It’s confidential information.”

“I am fully aware of that, but if you claim that it is a myth, there can’t be much information on that file that could be confidential. Please, help me out with this, we need to find Harry.” She begged and grabbed his hands.

He held her gaze for a moment. He could drown in her pleading eyes. He sighed. “Fine, give me a minute and I’ll make a call.” He let go of her and left the room.

“You should be careful around a man like him.”

Aria turned to Wakako, her words a surprise. “I thought you didn’t know who he was.”

“I know every cop in this city. What kind of fixer would I be if I didn’t.” She took another drag from her cigarette and placed the stump in the ashtray. “Do yourself a favour and stay away from him, his obsession for revenge is one day going to drag you down.”

His obsession? She must speak of his parent’s murder. She is somewhat right about it, but he hasn’t spoken about it for years, he has moved on. Right?

Aria crossed her arms. “He hasn’t mentioned in for years.” She pointed out.

Wakako shook her head. “Perhaps not to you, but what do you think he’s doing when you’re not around? What do you think he was doing when you were unconscious in the hospital? Where do you think he goes when most of the city sleeps?”

Aria opened her mouth but was interrupted by River entering the room.

“I got the file transferred; do you have a chip?” He asked and stepped past Aria.

Wakako looked through her drawer and handed him a small chip. He slotted it into his head and his eyes turned bright blue for a few seconds before he pulled the chip out. He handed it back to her. “There, now tell us where he is.”

Wakako inspected the chip in her hand and placed it on the desk. “He is in a dark blue metal container marked with three red claw marks. I’m sending you the coordinates.”

Their eyes turned blue for a second and Aria looked at them in silence. She knew what the colour meant, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they felt anything when they did the exchange. If they felt some kind of tingle or electricity, or if they felt absolutely nothing.

River looked down at Aria. “I got it, let’s go.”

Aria jumped out of the truck and splashed right into a puddle. Fuck. She shook her head in frustration before she walked forward. Her eyes glossed over the several containers in front of them, her lips partly parted.

River rounded the truck and stopped next to her. He crossed his arms and leaned his weight to one side. “This shouldn’t take too long.” He breathed and looked down at Aria. His brows furrowed. “You alright?”

Aria swallowed thickly. “What if we’re too late?” She turned her head towards him. “What if she lied?”

“She wouldn’t gain anything by lying, Aria. That woman might be dangerous, but from what I’ve heard, she’s an honest woman, at least about stuff that doesn’t regard her private life.”

Aria exhaled and stalked towards the big blue metal boxes.

The city air was thick and a low fog was lingering around the corners of the streets. The people who had lost their mind to drugs were babbling in their small tents. The slight layer of gravel crunched beneath their footsteps as they scanned for red claw marks.

“You never told me…”

Aria stopped and blinked at him. “Told you what?”

“Why you’re doing this. He was just your neighbour, wasn’t he?” River stopped a few steps ahead of her and turned to look at her.

She regarded him, feeling the somewhat passive tone in his voice. “I told you, you don’t have to come with me.” She reminded him and started to walk again. As she passed him, he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Why are you avoiding the question?” He asked with a stern voice.

She sighed heavily. A flash of feeling warm blood splatter across her face made her shiver. She forcefully held back a gag.

Her eyes rose up to his face. “It’s a long story I rather not get into, River. Just accept that I am doing this to hopefully save a life, or at least honour one.” He lightened his grip on her. “Now can we please try and find the container? I don’t want to waste more time.”

He studied her face and finally let go of her. He nodded and turned to continue the search for the mark.

They both roamed between the containers and looked at all possible graffiti tagged on the outside. Every little red streak caught Aria’s attention, desperate to just find the god damn box.

As she passed between the containers, she spotted a lone blue container at the end of the lot. On the front where three red marks. Her heart thumped against her ribs as she jogged over to the box. A rusty old padlock hung on the handle, keeping her from unlocking it. She gave it a few kicks, but to no avail.

“River.” She called out.

Within a few seconds he appeared behind one of the containers. He strode over to her and noted the padlock too. Without a word, he grabbed it with his bionic hand and jerked it, making the lock break.

“Thank you.” She nodded and they grabbed a handle each and pulled open the doors. They creaked in harmony and the smell of urine and blood filled their nostrils. They both gagged in reflex and took a step back for clean air.

She peered into the darkened shadows and noticed a black figure slumped together at the back. “Harry.” She whispered and rushed into the container. She fought not to throw up from the smell.

She knelt down next to the figure and lifted up the head by the chin. Two dark red and black empty sockets met her. She snapped her hand back and threw her head to the side, letting the vomit spew out of her.

“Aria.” River yelped out and hurried over to her. He held back her hair as she finished up throwing up. “Are you okay?”

She groaned in disgust. “His eyes, River. His fucking eyes.” She whimpered with tears rolling down her cheeks. She straightened her back and glanced over at River.

He was knelt down next to her and examined Harry’s face in revulsion. “Fuckin’ hell.” He breathed out.

His jaw was dislocated and probably most of his teeth were missing. He had several cuts on his chest and all his fingers were gone.

They sat there in silence, neither not knowing what to do or say. The sight was horrifying enough, just because he owed them some money. He had an addiction and they knew it, exploited it, but why? Did they do it just to have an excuse to torture him? They could have just taken someone off the street if that was the case.

Aria wanted to tear them all apart, to hunt down the fuckers who did this to Harry. She couldn’t imagine the pain he must have gone through, or what he was thinking when it all happened. “Your friend kept crying about you when he was here.” Did he think of her in his last moments? The thought sent unpleasant shivers through her whole body.

“What now?” River snapped her back from her thoughts.

She shifted her eyes between Harry and River. “We need to bury him.” She said and wobbled onto her feet.

“Bury him?”

She nodded. “We’ll take him to the junkyard.”

River shot up on his feet and shook his head. “No way this body is getting in my truck. The stench will be stuck for weeks.”

Her shoulders lowered. “Come on, River, please do this for me. I’ll pay for a thorough cleaning of your truck for a year, just please don’t leave me now.” She begged.

He regarded her for a moment, sometimes he glanced down at the slumped body. He bit his tongue and let out a deep sigh. “Fine but let me get the tarpaulin from the truck.”

Aria wiped the slight layer of sweat from her forehead with a deep exhale. The smell of death was soaked into her clothing and skin. She looked up at the clear sky above as the crisp air rustled through her hair.

River cleared his throat and her head snapped to his direction. He gestured to the rolled up tarpaulin on his truck reeking of piss and blood.

She swallowed thickly and threw the shovel on the ground. She stepped over to him and they grabbed one side each and lifted the covered body of Harry. It felt just as revolting as the first time she had carried his body to the truck. His soft limbs and horrifying smell had made her gag several times. She believed the only reason she wasn’t throwing up, was because she had no more to throw up.

They swung the body to the side and let it fall into the pit Aria had dug in a secluded area of the junkyard. His body made a wet slap sound when it hit the ground and body liquid seeped through the crevices of the tarpaulin. They both gagged as the smell of the fluid hit their noses.

River went back to the truck and pulled out a cannister with gasoline. He glanced at Aria before pouring the content over the body, the smells mixing up, making it somewhat more bearable. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket.

Her eyes snapped to the silvery box in his hand. “Let me do it.”

Without hesitation, he handed her the lighter.

She felt the smooth metal between her fingers as she stared at the soaked covers in the hole. Something in her wavered.

Harry had no family, no true friends, no one, yet he found friendship with her. She might have been the only one who knew who he was, who knew about the few stories of his life he had told her as they had chatted. She wasn’t sure if she should feel honoured or depressed. Here she was, burying and burning his body after being tortured to death. His last moments might have been of her and she honoured his death by burning him. It didn’t feel right, but it was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

He had asked her to bury him, they both knew he had no money to get a proper burial, so what did he expect? She didn’t want his body to rot somewhere above ground or be forgotten in some dump, at least here he could rest in peace, even though it was in the middle of the junkyard.

She lit the lighter and held it for a moment, pausing just one last time to consider her actions. This was the best option, he wanted it, she knew it. She flicked the small metal box forward and it landed in the hole.

The gasoline was set on fire immediately and grabbed a hold of the tarpaulin, before edging its way to the flesh inside. The smoke rose to the sky and the once disgusting smell of bodily fluids, blood and piss, turned to a mix of beef and fatty pork.

Aria took a few steps back and slumped down on the edge of the pickup bed. She watched the fire dance in front of her as River sat down next to her. He handed her a bottle of whiskey and she took a swig.

“What you have done today is commendable, Aria. You truly went the extra mile for someone who could never pay you back.” He took a swig from the flask.

“This wasn’t about payment, River.”

He looked at her. “Then what was it about? You avoid the question like the wasting plague.”

Aria sighed heavily. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. The tall shadows danced on the ground and along the piling trash pyramids.

“When I saw Harry in his apartment, beaten up, it…” She choked on the word.

River moved closer and placed an arm around her. “Aria, you don’t have to…”

“Yes I do.” She interrupted him. “It reminded me of my mother after one of the men had been to visit.”

His lips parted in shock. “What men?”

She had never told anyone about her past life, not a single one. She was living with these memories by herself and now she was going to share it with the one person who had been there since she was alone.

“Remember when I told you my mother was a cleaner at a hotel?”

He nodded slowly.

“Well, my mother had a second job to keep us afloat, so we didn’t have to lose our apartment.” She gulped and her eyes looked at the warming flames. “To make ends meet, she exchanged intimate moments for money.” She didn’t want to say the word, not in the context of her own mother. She always knew it came from a good place. “Sometimes, not often, but sometimes the men wouldn’t pay, and instead of just leaving the place, this one guy…”

She fisted her hands and clenched her teeth together. River wrapped her closer, letting her know she could stop whenever, but she had already made up her mind. She was halfway, so why not tell it all, even though they both knew the ending.

“He punched my mother in the face and she fell to the ground. I was standing in the corner, frozen at the sight of the big man. He pulled her up to her feet and punched her again and again and again and again, until a few teeth fell out, followed by blood splatter across the floor and walls. Some of the blood landed on my face. I can still feel the warm liquid slowly run down my face.” Her body was trembling with anger and sorrow. “He finally stopped and dropped my mother to the floor. She didn’t move. The man regarded me for a moment, I was terrified he would come for me, but all he did was giving me this disgusting smirk. Then he left.

I stood frozen for a long time until I finally collapsed and dragged myself next to my mother. I was afraid she was dead, but the shallow breath between her lips let me know she was still there. I couldn’t call anyone because I didn’t know anyone to call and we couldn’t afford to get a trauma team to us. I sat next to her the whole night, not knowing if she would survive or not.”

River pulled her onto his lap and she wrapped her arms around him.

She felt relieved to have told him, but the lingering pain was too great to ignore. Usually she would suppress the memories, but to tell them out in the open had brought her to a breaking point. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she buried her face into his chest.

“What happened to the man?” He asked carefully.

She shook her head. “Never caught. My mother never pressed charges because the police wouldn’t care considering what she was doing.” Her heart sank. Injustice.

“I am sorry, Aria.” He pressed her closer to him, enveloping her in his warmth.

“Thank you, River.” She sniffled. “Can you please drive me home? It’s been a long day.” She sat up and looked at him.

“Of course, would you like for me to stay with you?”

“No, I need some time alone.” She admitted with a frail voice.

He nodded understandingly.

They sat there for a moment longer, only listening to each other’s breaths and the distant sounds of the city.

(Want to be tagged? Let me know :D)

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #river ward #wakako okada #female original character #male original character #female oc #male oc #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #Ao3

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enchantedlokii · 4 years

Text

Peppermint

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: near-death experience, anaphylaxis, language

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, FRIDAY

Mentioned: Happy Hogan, May Parker

Peter was never quiet. The hyper teenager was always bouncing around, babbling about his day or an idea he had. So when the boy came in and silently threw away his empty cup, Tony knew something wasn’t right. At first he assumed that he was upset over something, but then he noticed the red tint to his cheeks and knew that the kid must be sick.

“Hey, Kiddo,” he stepped over and put an arm around the boy, surprised when he noticed that Peter was shaking a bit. Not only that, but he seemed winded, a slight wheeze coming with his slowed breaths. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I actually feel really sick, Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted, leaning against him a bit. “I was feeling fine this morning. I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t think I could even get sick.”

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Tony led Peter over to the couch, worried by his slow movements and the way he stumbled a bit, grasping Tony’s arm for balance and closing his eyes for a moment. “Talk to me, Pete. What’s wrong?”

“My throat hurts,” Peter murmured, his voice starting to sound scratchy. “And my chest. And my head. Everything hurts, Mr. Stark.”

“Okay, okay, hey, don’t panic,” Tony noticed that Peter was taking sharper breaths now, the wheezing becoming more prominent. “Just breathe, Kiddo. When did you start feeling bad?”

Peter seemed to think for a moment, glancing towards the empty cup he had thrown in the trash. “After I started my smoothie,” he told him. His eyes widened a bit as he came to a realization. “Oh no.”

“What? What is it?” Tony asked. He didn’t look up as he heard footsteps in the doorway. Something was wrong with Peter, and that was more important than whatever whoever was there needed.

“Peppermint,” Peter told him, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Peppermint. Spiders don’t like peppermint.”

That’s when it clicked. “Sh*t, Peter,” he huffed, trying to keep the panic from setting in. He raised his head now and turned to look at whoever had come in; Clint and Natasha. Good. “One of you run and get two EpiPens from the medbay and one of you find Bruce.”

He didn’t wait for a response before turning back to Peter. They had argued in the past, but he knew that neither of them would deny helping someone who needed them. Especially not when that someone was Peter. They loved him — all the Avengers did. “It’s going to be okay, Kiddo. I promise.”

Peter shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came was a wheeze. His eyes were pleading now as he looked at Tony, silently begging him to help. And he desperately wanted to help, but he didn’t know what to do. He had to wait for Clint or Natasha to get back with the EpiPens and pray that the boy wouldn’t stop breathing.

He saw tears in the boy’s eyes and pulled him close. He found himself pushing his finger’s against Peter’s wrist and counting the faint heartbeat in an attempt to calm himself. His heart was still beating. He was still alive. He wasn’t going to die.

But Peter was getting weaker every minute. He started to collapse against Tony, and when the man looked down he saw that the teenager’s mouth was gaping now, desperately trying to pull in air but not managing to get any. His lips were paling and his eyes were starting to droop. “No, no. Stay with me, Pete,” he said quickly. He could hear the panic in his own voice. Because he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer without help. “FRIDAY, where are they?”

“I’m here!”

Tony looked up at Clint, silently pleading as he watched him shaking the EpiPen and snapping off the cap. “Sorry, Peter. This is going to hurt a bit,” he said quickly, pressing a hand against Peter’s hip before stabbing the needle into his thigh. Peter didn’t react, still struggling to try to take even a small breath. His lips had a blue tinge now, and he was constantly blinking in an effort to stay awake.

“Just a little bit longer,” Tony told him. “Come on, Pete. Come on. Breathe for us.”

“Should I get another ready?” Clint asked, already pulling a second shot out of his pocket. In his eyes, he seemed torn between giving the boy another dose and waiting another minute to see if it kicked in.

Before Tony had a chance to reply, the silence broke and Peter wheezed weakly, managing time take in a small breath. Then he took another, slightly stronger. He shook his head, probably trying to wake himself more.

“There you go. That’s it.” Tony pulled Peter close again, rubbing his back. He hoped that it would help him regain control of his breathing. He was aware that his voice was breaking, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was Peter. Because he had to be okay. “That’s it, Pete. Keep breathing.”

The color started to come back to Peter’s lips as he started to take stronger breaths. His cheeks were still flushed, but the pain was fading from his eyes, replaced with pure exhaustion. Then they flashed with recognition and fear and started to swell with tears. “T-Tony. . .”

“Shh, save your strength, Pete,” he whispered, pulling Peter closer and cradling his head. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

He silently hoped that Peter was too out of it to hear his rapid heartbeat. Now that it was okay — now that Peter was okay — he realized just how terrified he actually was. Even though he kept telling himself he wasn’t going to die, he knew that truthfully Peter had just almost died. Peter knew it, too, based on how upset he was. It was too close. Way too close.

“Oh, thank God.” Tony looked up as he heard Bruce. He was winded from obviously running to them. “He’s okay.”

Tony just nodded in reply, pressing his face into Peter’s hair. The boy was still crying, but that was okay. He was breathing again. His heart was still beating — much faster than it should be, but he knew that was from the epinephrine. “It’s okay, Pete. You’re okay.”

“Hey, Peter?” Bruce came over and crouched down beside them, rubbing the boy’s leg. “I want to get you up to the medbay and keep an eye on you for a few hours, okay?”

Peter shook his head and pressed closer to Tony, his trembling fingers grasping his shirt. “It’s okay, I’m coming with you,” Tony murmured, stroking his curls. “I’ll even carry you up, alright?”

Peter just whimpered in reply, still crying. It broke Tony’s heart, but he tried to again focus on the fact that he was alive and breathing. He could handle crying. He couldn’t handle losing him. So he carefully maneuvered himself to the edge of the couch, carefully lifting the surprisingly light teenager.

“FRIDAY, care to have Happy call May and let her know what’s going on?” he asked as they walked towards the elevator. “Actually, have him go pick her up. Don’t need her driving while she’s upset.”

“Will do, Boss,” FRIDAY replied.

“Great,” he replied, pressing his face into Peter’s hair again. “Let’s get you fixed up, Buddy.”

The first thing Peter noticed when he woke up was the annoying beeping of a heart monitor. The rhythm was steady, not too fast or too slow. If it was an actual heartbeat he was hearing, he might find it comforting, but it was instead a high-pitched beep that hurt his sensitive ears. Then, he realized it was his heartbeat that lined up with the monitor.

Peter scrunched up his face, noticing that a cannula was pushed up his nose, helping him breathe. There was an IV in his right arm, pumping fluids into him. His thigh was sore, but his chest and throat ached more than anything.

He groaned softly, moving his head sideways and letting his eyes open slightly. The lights were dimmed, thank God, and he was able to make out the familiar medbay. He was safe.

That’s when everything came back to him. Peter had bought a peppermint smoothie after school. He had been thirsty, and it was hot outside. It wasn’t until he felt his throat starting to close off that it hit him that he was most likely allergic to peppermint now. Unfortunately, that most likely was a certainty. He had panicked, searching Tony’s eyes for some sort of hope that he would be okay, but he could see the fear in his eyes that didn’t fade even after Clint stabbed in him in the leg with an EpiPen and he managed to refill his lungs a few minutes later.

And Peter had cried. He had cried and clung to Tony like his life depended on it. Because he had just barely escaped death, and he wasn’t ready to die yet. He didn’t want to leave. Not when he had barely lived. And he definitely didn’t want to die from an accident that could have been avoided if he hadn’t been so ignorant. And after the incident, he realized, he didn’t want to die in front of Tony. Because the man’s panic showed him that he would have been a mess if they hadn’t managed to pull Peter away from his near-death.

Peter didn’t realize that his eyes were filling with tears again until he looked up at the sound of someone coming in and realized that his vision was blurred. “Oh, Pete. Hey, it’s okay.” Peter sniffled as Tony came over and combed his fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.”

“I-I almost died,” he breathed.

“But you didn’t,” Tony whispered. Peter was surprised when the man bent over and kissed his forehead. “You scared me, Kiddo.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, his voice breaking. He felt arms wrapping around him and squeezing him tight. “I-I should have realized.”

“Shh,” Tony hushed him. “I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters, alright? That, and peppermint is now forbidden in any Avengers facility. Period. If anyone so much as brings a peppermint scented candle in this building I will blast it with a repulsor.”

Peter managed a small chuckle, feeling Tony smile above him. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. I-I’m sorry that I was clingy afterwards. I. . . I was kinda terrified.”

“It’s alright, Pete. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t want to let go either. Not sure how much you remember, but Nat practically had to peel you away from me for Bruce to look at you.”

Peter smiled a bit and pressed his face against Tony’s shoulder. “I-I need to thank them too,” he murmured. “And Clint. For, um, stabbing me to life?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

The two jumped at the voice, pulling apart. Tony rolled his eyes, looking up at the vent on the wall. Clint waved through the bars, causing Peter to chuckle. “Thanks, Clint,” he said quietly. His throat still itched and he was tired beyond belief, and he silently hoped that the man had his hearing aids turned up enough to hear him.

His hopes were answered when the man opened the vent and jumped down. “Of course,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m with Stark; just glad that you’re okay. And sorry if it hurt. I know it was necessary but I still feel kinda guilty for it.”

“It’s okay,” Peter promised. He shifted in his bed and opened his arms. Clint smiled and came forward to hug him. His hug was gentler and shorter than Tony’s, but just as caring.

“Does Aunt May know?” he asked as Clint pulled away.

“She just left for work, actually,” Tony told him. “I can call her and ask her to come back if you want. I already planned on pulling some strings for her to get the night off, but you know how she is.”

“Could I just call her and let her know I’m okay? So she doesn’t worry?” Peter asked. He reached to try to find his phone only to realize he was in a gown rather than his normal clothes.

“Sure. FRIDAY has her number on file. You want us to step out?” Tony asked, rubbing Peter’s arm gently.

“No, you can stay,” Peter told him. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“Call May Parker, please.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #friday #iron man #spider man #hawkeye #black widow #hulk

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jarienn972 · 4 years

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A Simple Spell - Chapter Fourteen

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

For weeks, I was feeling as though this story would never come together. Amidst all of the chaos, I finally found the words again and with a few tweaks from my original plan, my @cssns 2019 story is at last complete! I really want to thank everyone for all of the encouragement and wonderful comments along the way. I have to extend many thanks to @lassluna for her beta assistance. Sorry this ended up taking so much longer than planned, but man, the real world can certainly be stranger than fiction! Thank you @cocohook38 for the incredible banner you created for this story. I plan to print it out and hang it on my wall now that this is all completed! And thank you @kmomof4 for being such a great cheerleader as I muddled my way through my first AU. I’m definitely looking forward to working with you on this year’s story!

When we left off, Emma had kissed Killian awake (although she doesn't know it yet) before being whisked off to a rooftop to battle Walsh. Now, having defeated him, she's still left with a ton of questions - and some of the answers just might be more than she imagined.

To get caught up from the beginning, you can find the entire story on AO3 or FF.net. Here are the previous chapters on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen

She should have registered some reaction as the ominous clouds drifted apart, but assuming that the trickster had been controlling the darkened skies, Emma barely noticed the evening wasn't as foreboding as earlier. Her brain was still struggling to process the sequence of events that had just taken place on the rooftop and the shocking role she'd just played. She sank to her knees in disbelief as her gaze locked on the stuffed toy that rested in the very position Walsh had stood moments ago.

Magic - magic more powerful than she'd ever experienced - had escaped from her fingertips like an electric shock, yet she hadn't really been surprised by the sensation. This new magic had felt so comfortable, so natural. Had she always had those abilities?

The only real surprise had been in her unexpected ally. There'd been something familiar in that creepy cackle but at this particular moment, she was too shaken to place the voice that had whispered in her ear. Whoever (or whatever) it had been, the shadowy figure's presence had angered Walsh. It also hadn't been fazed by Walsh's powers yet Emma was astounded to think that this person had shown a degree of faith in her powers that she wouldn't have thought she was worthy of.

It seemed to have been an eternity since she'd been whisked atop this building but how much time had actually passed? Emma finally found the strength to push herself back to her feet and took a tentative step towards the plush monkey, approaching the toy with a degree of caution as though it might spring to life. Had she really just turned Walsh Gibbons into a stuffed animal?

She slid the garnet-capped signet ring onto her index finger, finding herself twisting it mindlessly as thoughts of her actions crossed her mind. She pushed them away as she lowered her hand to scoop up the little monkey. It didn't appear quite so sinister upon closer inspection, but she wasn't taking any chances and certainly wasn't about to leave it here. After a brief examination and determination that there was no lingering paranormal effect, she tucked the toy beneath her arm. It was time to get the hell off of this roof and get back to Killian…

Killian! Her mind was suddenly in overdrive, flooded with anxiety about what may have happened to him. She patted her pockets in search of her phone before remembering that she'd set it down on the nightstand before she'd kissed Killian. Ugh… how was she supposed to find out what had happened to Killian if she couldn't call anyone? For that matter, how was anyone supposed to call to see if she was alright?

Too bad the mysterious stranger couldn't have let her know if she had the ability to poof herself back over to the hospital before vanishing…

Emma managed to locate the doorway that led to the building's stairwell and hurried down the three stories to reach the ground level, using a tiny bit of magic to unlock the door of the ice cream shop she found herself in. She took a moment to secure the lock once she was outside but she made a mental note to return tomorrow to apologize to the proprietor anyway. She'd reimburse them for the lock in the event her magic caused any permanent damage.

She darted across an empty Main Street, still clutching the stuffed monkey, and made a left on 3rd, running as fast as her feet would allow before nearly colliding with a vehicle approaching from Oak Street. Hyper-focused on finding her way back to Storybrooke Hospital and the man she was now certain was her True Love, it barely registered that the vehicle now screeching to a halt was the black and white Sheriff's cruiser and the figure leaping out of the driver's seat was her brother, David.

"Emma!" David shouted to garner her attention, but she didn't seem to have noticed him. "Emma! Stop!" Her head snapped around as she heard her name called along with the order to Stop. Now she recognized David, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of her sibling. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. "Regina called me and said you vanished from the hospital and we've been searching all over town for you…"

"I'm fine, David," she insisted, not wanting to waste time explaining things to her brother right now. "It's all over and I promise, I'll tell you everything, but right now, I need to get to Killian. I need to know that he's okay…"

"Your pirate, uh…, I mean Captain is fine. He's awake and confused, just as we all are."

"Then give me a ride over there."

"Yeah…, sure," he replied as he calmed down enough to notice the toy tucked in the crook of her arm. "But can you tell me what's with the monkey?"

"That is a very long story," Emma stated as she tossed the plush toy into the back seat of the cruiser before climbing in to the passenger seat. "I'll try to explain later… if I can figure it out myself first…"

"I'm going to regret asking, aren't I?" David asked as he slid back into the driver's seat and pulled the door closed while Emma fastened her seat belt. She answered him with simply a shrug of her shoulders. She'd just defeated a powerful demigod, albeit a weakened one, who had masqueraded as someone she'd once loved. She'd put an end to the town's history of supernatural challenges designed to strip witches of their magic. She'd thought to ask questions, to do the research that her mother hadn't done and now, it was time to reunite with the man she'd known for only a week. The man she now knew was her true love.

She certainly had some interesting conversations ahead of her.

**********

David slightly abused his authority as Sheriff as he sped his sister to the front entrance of Storybrooke Hospital, lights flashing and siren blaring the whole way. Using David's phone, Emma messaged Regina to ask her to lower the protective spell, promising she'd explain everything (at least as well as she could) when she arrived. She didn't have the faintest idea what she was going to say but something would come to her. At least she hoped something would come to mind since she really wasn't sure herself.

Regina's face wasn't exactly the one Emma wanted to see as the elevator doors parted so she tried her best to disguise the disappointment on her face when her cousin started asking questions before she could even step into the corridor.

"Emma, what the hell happened? Where did you go?" Regina impatiently rattled off her inquisition but before Emma could even open her mouth to reply, David held up his hand with the best I've got this expression on his face.

"Give her a minute or two, Regina," David stated, ushering the mayor aside while Emma slipped past. "She's had a rough day and just uncovered her true love. Don't you think they deserve a moment alone?"

Emma grinned at her brother's words. It had to be killing him to say that, she thought as she overheard Regina sputtering through a dejected reply. Madame Mayor wasn't used to being usurped by her underlings, even if they were her relatives.

Her heart was pounding and her skin was flushed as she passed through the open doorway into Killian's room, finding him seated atop the bed wearing the same dusty black jeans he'd had on when she'd found him in Walsh's root cellar. He'd clearly been rushing to dress himself, his midnight blue tee-shirt still clutched in his hand when she entered. His back was to her but he turned immediately to face her at the sound of her footsteps on the tile. Her breath hitched in her throat for a split-second at the sight of his bare, well-toned chest, eyes drifting to the patches of dark, thick hair trailing across his pectorals and down the center of his abdomen.

"Killian, hi…," she stammered, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes before he caught her checking him out. The sly smile that crossed his lips indicated she was probably too late.

"Emma...I'm so glad to see you, Love," he said, dropping the tee-shirt onto the bed as he stood to face her. Both felt equally awkward and anxious, having learned in very different ways that they were true loves. They still had so much to learn about the other. There were so many more words to be said and time to be spent together but in this instant, all of those seemed insignificant as she rushed toward his open arms. Without hesitation, he drew her to him and captured her parted lips with his. Emma sighed into his kiss as their bodies pressed together, relaxing as she relished his embrace, the fear of losing him diminishing as she gently caressed his wounded shoulder.

Without breaking their connection, Emma wiggled her fingers in the direction of the door, willing it to close as the sudden need for a little privacy struck her. As she heard it slam shut at her command, the corners of her mouth upturned into a deeper smile that Killian reciprocated when he noticed the glass wall of the hospital room frosting over with an opaque white film as if by magic.

Pure true love magic.

The Next Day

An overnight in a hospital bed was certainly not the evening Killian Jones would have preferred to spend with his newfound true love. Dr. Whale had insisted his patient stay the night for observation since he hadn't been able to determine the unknown substances present in Killian's blood. Emma knew it was the sleeping potion, but Dr. Whale didn't know that. The doctor saw a man who'd been inexplicably unconscious for hours with a stab wound in his shoulder and despite Killian's arguments that he kept his hook spotless, Whale had insisted on intravenous antibiotics to stave off infection. The stubborn captain was finally forced to concede defeat when Emma reminded him that his abductor might have subjected Killian's hook to some less-than-sanitary treatment before shoving it into his shoulder - not that Killian wasn't going to grumble about his additional night of forced captivity.

Having slept for a full day already, Killian was wide awake so, despite her own exhaustion, Emma stayed up to talk with him as long as she physically could, eventually drifting off to sleep curled into his uninjured side on the narrow bed. He wrapped his arm around her, careful not to entangle her in the tubes and wires attached to him while he thought of ways to inform his crew that they'd be remaining moored in this port for a little while longer.

When released shortly after 9 o'clock, David met them at the curb, dropping off Emma's car while Graham waited in the cruiser across the street to drive his boss back to the station. They'd both agreed that Emma deserved a couple of days off so they offered to cover her shifts until Wednesday to give her some time to decompress. She, of course, planned to spend as much of that time as possible with Killian Jones.

Emma drove Killian to the harbor, leaving him to reclaim his position as Captain while she made a brief trip back to the loft for a much needed hot shower and a change of clothes. She assured him that she'd return in an hour or two and whether or not it made her the talk of the town, she had no intention of leaving his side tonight.

She managed to dodge most of Mary Margaret's questions as she cleaned up and pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans that she paired with a casual charcoal grey sweater. She hurried downstairs clutching her favorite ankle boots, flopping onto one of the kitchen chairs to tug them on while her sister-in-law brought her a brown paper bound parcel.

"I almost forgot," Mary Margaret spoke up as she extended the package towards Emma. "This came for you this morning."

"It did?" Emma asked quizzically as she took the parcel into her own hand. She didn't see any postmarks or return address on it and she hadn't been expecting anything. What was this that had mysteriously arrived today?

"I found it on the doorstep after David left to pick you up."

"Oh, okay… Thanks." Emma peeled off the paper wrapping and was stunned to find that beneath that outer layer was her mother's journal. "You didn't happen to see who left this, did you?" she asked as her sister in law turned on the faucet to start washing the breakfast dishes.

"Uh, no, sorry."

"That's okay. I think I may know…" Maybe she'd been wrong about something here but she knew she'd need to make a pit stop on the way back to the harbor. "I've got to get going. Thanks for this."

"Enjoy the time with your Captain," Mary Margaret dismissed her with a knowing grin as the sink filled with hot water.

**********

But the Jolly Roger wouldn't be her immediate destination. Emma drove to Main Street and eased her Bug to the curb, setting her jaw firmly as she parked the car and clambered out, clutching the toy monkey that had materialized the previous night in her left hand. She stomped fervently to the entrance to the pawn shop and unceremoniously shoved the door open, thankfully finding no patrons in the shop as the little warning bell attached to the handle sounded. Without waiting for the shop's proprietor to emerge from the back room, she flipped the Open sign over to read Closed instead.

She'd rather this be a private conversation.

A slightly perturbed Mr. Gold emerged from beyond his bead curtain as Emma flopped the stuffed toy atop his glass countertop.

"Deputy Swan… To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?" He stabbed a bony finger at the toy littering his counter. "And what's with the toys? If you're planning to pawn that, it's hardly worth anything…"

"I think you know why I'm here," she replied. "I think you know a lot more than the little bits and pieces you've been feeding me."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Yeah, I think you do. After all, you showed up to help me last night - albeit in a very different form. Just who the hell are you? Forget that… what the hell are you?"

Gold sighed dejectedly then raised his hand and locked the door with a flick of his wrist. "Seems as though we should keep this between us."

"Fine with me, as long as you start telling me the truth!"

"Truth can be subjective, Miss Swan. You of all people should understand that."

"Understand what? How everyone has lied to me since the moment I arrived into this town? I used to think I could tell when people lied to me, but then I came here and suddenly, I have no idea who I can trust…"

"I'm afraid that's because the spell your mother gifted you with doesn't work within the boundaries of Storybrooke. She intended it to protect you from those outside our town lines, not within."

"So people from Storybrooke can lie to me all they want and I'd never know it? How do I know you're not lying to me right now?"

"Because right now, your desire for the truth has brought you here, exactly as I knew it would."

"You knew. I knew it!" she exclaimed although there was still a heavy degree of skepticism in her voice. "What the hell is going on here? Last night, I got transported across town, had a battle with a damned trickster who once pretended to care for me, had some creepy, shadowy figure show up and give me this…," she unfurled her right hand to reveal the garnet ring that had repelled Walsh's magic. "And then a magical shield suddenly deflected his magic and he disappeared, leaving only this little plush monkey where he'd been standing. But I'm pretty sure you already knew all of that since you were the shadowy figure up on that rooftop with me. Isn't that right, Dearie?"

Gold chuckled, picking up the toy to examine it. "You're every bit the witch I knew you would be, Emma. From the moment your powers emerged, I knew you'd be the one to save this town."

"And I thought you barely knew my family? What else do you know about us? About my mother?"

"As much as any grandfather should - except how to protect her…"

"Grandfather?" Emma wasn't sure if what he was saying was real, but she found herself suddenly speechless.

"You wanted to know who I was. When I founded this town, my name was Francois Albert Blanchard. Of course, that's just one of many names I've used over the centuries and I projected a far different appearance. I was a little taller and a little burlier back then… Something more like this…" The old man snapped his fingers and in the blink of an eye, an entirely different person stood before her. This person stood six inches taller in stature and had a far stockier build than that of the often frail looking Mr. Gold. And there was no doubt that he was the spitting image of the Blanchard family patriarch.

"What are you…?" Emma demanded, backing a step away from the counter as the image of her great grandfather vanished and the familiar face of the pawn shop owner reappeared. "Walsh said something about me being descended from something more evil than him… I didn't believe it but I don't know what to believe right now…"

"Walsh wasn't wrong - there is a degree of evil to me. As the living embodiment of dark magic, there always will be evil that comes with that. I've been called many things throughout the years but essentially The Dark One has been the name that stuck."

"The Dark One? Seriously? Are you another immortal like Walsh? Another trickster?"

"You're not entirely wrong, Dearie. While my powers are not exactly akin to my more volatile brother, there's some degree of similarity between the two of us."

"Brother? Walsh was your brother? Please tell me you're kidding me…"

"Well, adopted brother. My mother had a habit of bringing home strays back then. His given name was actually Malcolm. Believe it or not, he was once the epitome of light magic - well, at least he was when we left the old world. He quickly discovered what so many magic practitioners learn the hard way - power corrupts. Unfortunately, he became addicted to it. By the time we'd founded this town to create a refuge for those like us, Malcolm was growing crazed for power. So, I created a talisman that would temper his magic. It kept him tied here to Storybrooke."

"Walsh… Malcolm… he said you'd kept him tethered here… That ring? That was the talisman, wasn't it? But if you had his powers under control, why couldn't you stop him?"

Gold sighed, leaning back against the doorframe as he tried to determine the best way to answer. "After our falling out, Malcolm vanished off into the woods and no one saw him for years. I'd honestly lost track of him, and interest in finding him, until the attack on Ursula. By then, I'd been here far too long as a Blanchard so I had to leave for a while. When I returned, my children were long grown and I bore the appearance of someone my grandchildren's age. No one had heard of or from Malcolm in a generation, yet somehow, the tale of the town's founding had evolved into the one you heard - one about a warlock seeking to trick witches out of their magic through unknown challenges rather than a rogue trickster who'd been stripped of most of his powers playing absurd, dangerous games."

"You came back and joined the coven with your own granddaughters? Interesting… and only a little disturbing…" She'd barely processed half of what he'd divulged and none of it was getting easier to digest.

"I joined the coven to protect my family. I just couldn't let them know who I was. I did everything I could to help teach them to respect magic, but I didn't know about that ridiculous love spell Malcolm planted until it was too late. He was calling himself Ozmund by then and I know he targeted your mother on purpose. He knew Ava was a Blanchard so he knew her powers would help restore his own, but he had to defeat her to steal them. I hated seeing what he did to her…"

"Let me get this straight - your power-crazed brother pretended to romance his own great-niece to steal her powers? Adopted or not, do you have any idea how depraved that is? And then - damn… He did the same thing to me?" Emma was suddenly sick to her stomach at the thought of her time spent with Walsh in Boston, now ever so thankful that their relationship had never advanced to the bedroom. "I think I'm going to be sick…"

"Try to save the retching until you're out of my store. You've no blood relation, but I agree, it was rather disturbing. I didn't know him anymore. He'd become every bit as evil and dark as I was, perhaps more so, and I had hoped that after he stole your mother's powers that he'd just leave Storybrooke and never return. He'd regained enough to cross the town line. He had no reason to come back here…"

"Until he ran into me," Emma realized. Walsh or Malcolm or whatever his name was might not have come back if he hadn't stumbled into her in Boston. "He said that running into me in Boston was completely by chance. He recognized me because I look so much like my mother. Did I bring him back here?"

"You're not to blame. No one ever set the story straight that there was no actual warlock and your mother never completely recovered from her ordeal. When you started showing signs of birthright magic - magic that comes from within, not learned from a spell book, she got scared. She took you and ran from Storybrooke, leaving your heartbroken family behind. She didn't understand she would have been safer staying here."

Emma paced a circle through the center of the shop, her mind spinning with information overload. What a week this had been…

"Walsh said he'd been back here though… Even you confirmed that you'd seen him, did work for him… He came back before I did so why didn't you stop him then? According to you, my mother's box was here the whole time so why didn't you use the talisman against him again?"

"I couldn't," Gold confesses with a loud sigh. "When he returned, Malcolm was stronger than I'd expected and as I'd done to him, he created a talisman to control my powers. In a game of chess, we'd have both been in check. I couldn't deny his requests whether it be creating potions, gathering exotic elixirs and supplies from abroad… or sending a letter…"

A letter? Emma's pupils broadened as it instantly clicked. "About a year ago, a letter showed up addressed to my mother. It had a return address here in Storybrooke. That's what sparked my interest because she'd never mentioned Storybrooke before. My curiosity got the best of me and it brought me here - right into his trap…"

"That was precisely what he wanted. He saw you in Boston and thought you'd be the weakest link of the Blanchard heirs, but he completely underestimated your tenacity - and your natural ability to question everything. That proved his downfall."

Emma was overwhelmed. She hadn't walked in here expecting any of this, but there as more she needed to know. "You created the sleeping potion that he used on Killian, didn't you?"

"You mean the young man who proved to be your true love? Unfortunately, yes, I did. I'm glad your heart was strong enough to let you see through it."

"Was kissing him really the only way to wake him?" The old man nodded, confirming that it had indeed been their true love that awakened Killian. "Alright…, I've heard about as much as my head can handle for one day but I've got two last questions. First - does Belle know who and what you are?"

"She does not. As of this moment, you are the only one who knows who I am. I change my appearance gradually each year to mimic aging and eventually, I will have to leave her and our son. In a few years, I'll return with a new identity."

"Sounds like a pretty lonely existence…"

"After five centuries, you've no idea…," he mused, voice deep with melancholy. "What was your other question?"

"Was Walsh really waiting for some package to arrive or was that all an act?"

"Oh, he was definitely anxiously awaiting an elixir he'd procured from some distant realm. Supposedly, it would have granted him the ability to use his powers beyond the bounds of Storybrooke."

"He could have used his magic in the outside world?"

"Was that a third question, Miss Swan? I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that one, but I do have work to get back to. Don't you have your Captain to return to as well?"

"Yeah, I do. Thank you for your honesty. Your secret is safe with me, but when I've finished digesting all of this overload, I'll be back with more questions."

"I'm certain you will," he replied, squeezing the body of the toy monkey as he carried it back into his private sanctuary beyond the beads. She hadn't expected he'd want to keep it, but he'd not asked for the garnet ring back. Perhaps it's job was done or perhaps it was just time to bequeath it to the new generation. Either way, she slipped it into her jacket pocket as she unlocked the door and reversed the sign to again read Open with the slightest wiggle of her index finger.

Gold listened for the bell on the door to chime, for the echo of footsteps to dissipate before returning to the shop, the plush monkey still clutched in his left hand. He watched Emma make an illegal u-turn in the middle of Main Street as she departed for the harbor front. Satisfied that the only person in Storybrooke who knew his secret was out of sight, Gold propped the toy on the counter and let out a hearty chuckle.

"You've never looked better, Malcolm," he said snidely as his palm closed over the toy's head. Gripping the body with his other hand, he twisted the head and yanked it from the body, spilling foam and polyester stuffing onto the glass countertop. "I warned you to leave my family alone," he continued, pulling stuffing from the toy by the fistful until a gold ring nearly identical to the one Emma had left with toppled out from amongst the fluff except the the capping stone was a deep smoky topaz instead of a garnet. "I knew you'd have it on you," Gold beamed with a wide, toothy grin as he slipped the ring onto his left middle finger, relishing the warm glow it gave off. "The Dark One has returned."

There were no ears to hear his announcement. No one to share his elation over the sensation of lost magic once again coursing through his veins. He didn't need it to be broadcast though. The extent of his power would remain a secret and both that secret and his legacy would be secure with his great-granddaughter.

**********

The jovial face of William Smee was the first to greet her as Emma bounded up the gangplank and stepped onto the deck with a canvas backpack slung over her left shoulder. After last night's supernatural darkness, today's brilliant sunshine was welcoming. The bay was so calm she barely noticed the ship bobbing with the gentle waves.

"Deputy Swan! It's so wonderful to see you," Mr. Smee smiled as he offered an arm to steady her land legs while maneuvering around and over obstacles including buckets, mops and ropes. "Sorry it's such a mess. Last night's storm did a number on the deck…"

"I'm sure it did. Is Killian… uh, Captain Jones in his quarters?"

"He is indeed," Smee replied. "He's been expecting you, but he has been resting as the doctor ordered. Is it true that we'll be spending another two weeks here while he recuperates?"

Emma had to stifle a giggle at Smee's question, wondering what else Killian had told them to explain why they weren't sailing out this week as planned. "Uh, yeah… the doctor didn't want him heading out into the open ocean until his shoulder is healed. Not taking any chances, you know?" She hoped her story was close enough to whatever tale Killian had spewed to be believable. Of course, she doubted it would take long for the crew to figure out the real reason.

"No matter. We're all just glad you were able to find the captain and bring him back to his ship. He instructed me to have Cookie send down some luncheon items for you once you arrived. I'll make sure to do that."

"Thank you, Mr. Smee," she replied as she raised the hatch to Killian's quarters. Smee helped her hold it open as she descended into the cabin at the ship's stern, finding Killian seated at his writing desk when she reached the bottom.

"Hello, Love," he smiled, standing to meet her in the center of the cozy cabin as the hatch fell closed above them.

"Hello to you, too," she responded, tossing her backpack onto the chair he'd just vacated. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"This is resting," was his reply as he slipped his arms around her waist. "I'm resting my eyes on the most beautiful woman in all the realms."

"Really? I don't think this would meet those doctor's orders…," she teased him, brushing her lips against his cheek as she eased him backwards toward his bunk. His untrimmed stubble prickled her skin as he turned his head to try to capture her lips with his own but before he could, she pushed him down onto the mattress. "You're supposed to be resting…"

"And I do indeed plan to rest, but right now, I desperately want to kiss you…" She almost wanted to burst out laughing at the ridiculous pout on his face but she held her composure as she flopped down next to him on the narrow bed, tossing a couple of jewel toned silk pillows to the wall as she reached over and began to unbutton his shirt. "Now Emma…, I thought you intended for me to rest?" he said in mock protest as she undid the rest of the buttons and gently slid the fabric over his bandaged shoulder first before he shrugged it off his other arm.

"Oh, I fully intend to help you rest," she assured him as she planted a tender kiss on his crinkled forehead. "You're way too overdressed…"

"I do enjoy the way you think," he smirked as she shook her head.

"Don't think too much into it - at least not today," she stated, noting the immediate disappointment in his gaze. "You really do need to rest. You look exhausted, even if that potion did make you sleep an entire day. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere though. According to the laws of magic, you're my true love and honestly, I really don't want to screw this up. I want to take this time to fill in some blanks. To get to know you. Hell, I want to get to know me… A whole lot has changed for me this week and I hope you understand…"

"Emma, Love… I would wait an eternity for you. If fate means for us to be together, you won't find argument from me. I've been smitten with you from the very moment I laid eyes upon you and all this week, I've dreamed that you would feel the same."

"Well, how's this for an answer…?" She leaned closer to him, at last pressing her lips into his, gently at first but becoming increasingly fervent, driven by a passion she'd never experienced before.

So this was what true love felt like? Maybe she still had a lot to learn… And she was more than willing to commit a lifetime to it.

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #witch emma #a simple spell #sorry it took so long to finish this #the past few weeks have been pure insanity #I'm actually amazed the muse returned

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vs-redemption · 4 years

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Darkness (A Hawks One Shot)

Summary: Hawks struggles to live in a world turned to darkness

Warning: ⚠️This story contains manga spoilers. It also contains dark themes, violence, and character death. I’m actually kind of nervous to post it because I’ve never written anything like this before so please let me know if I need to add a warning or tag something⚠️

Edit: I wanted to add that I don’t think Hawks would ever get this deranged. I just wanted to try writing something a little different from the other HawksxReader story I’ve been posting.

It was still early. The morning sun had hardly even started its journey across the sky, but the city it illuminated felt as dark and dangerous as if it were the middle of the night. Keigo Takami kept his face hidden as best he could with a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap as he made his way to his destination. Anybody could recognize him at any time even though he wasn’t ‘Hawks’ anymore. Hawks was the name of a hero, albeit a failed one, but a hero nonetheless. Just because that person didn’t exist anymore, the general public would know the face of the man they once relied on to protect them if they saw it. He didn’t want to tip them off that he was in the area.

“Hey! Get back here!”

A young woman comes dashing out of a nearby convenient store with a heavy looking duffle bag. An elderly man runs out after her shouting, “You have to pay for that!” The woman actually stops and turns around to mock him by giving him the finger. She laughs at the look of outrage on the man’s face before taking off again and disappearing into an alley. The urge to pursue her and return whatever she’d stolen crashed over Keigo with the force of a tidal wave, but he knew he couldn’t act on it. He’d have to add it to the list of countless other crimes he’d stood by and witnessed. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d watched happen, not by a long shot. That’s how things were now though, so he just had to take what little comfort he could in the fact that some part of him still desired to do good. He continued on his way, ignoring the cries of the elderly man who cursed the way people had to live nowadays as he stormed back into his shop.

* * *

It had already been a few years since the villains had won their war and taken over the country. Shigaraki’s first act as king had been to give the surviving heroes an ultimatum; kneel or die. As expected, most of the heroes continued to fight or went into hiding. Keigo still wondered why he’d gone against the grain and chosen to fall at that psycho’s feet. At the time, he’d told himself that there might still be a chance he could find a way to take down the villain empire from the inside. He owed it to all the brave heroes that had lost their lives in that final battle that would’ve never happened had he not failed his mission in the first place. He had blamed himself for the massacre, and called his decision to join the villains a necessary self-sacrifice to atone for that mistake.

He had been kidding himself back then. After all this time, he was no closer to taking down the villains than he was when he started. In fact, he’d only made things bleaker by accepting the task to be Shigaraki’s personal hit man. As soon as the leader of the villains had taken his throne, a team had been put together to search for the remaining heroes. Once they were found, Keigo would be sent in to eliminate them. He probably should’ve backed out then. He could’ve snuck away and went into hiding himself instead of going out and slicing down his former comrades one by one. So why hadn’t he stopped? Why did he continue to accept and complete Shigaraki’s orders?

Maybe he was still in denial, thinking that each time he stained his hands with the blood of a hero it would earn just a little bit more of the villains’ trust. Perhaps one day he’d eventually get close enough to Shigaraki to take him down.

Perhaps it was a different reason though. Maybe shouldering the guilt of botching his final mission as a hero had made Keigo so desperate to prove he wasn’t a failure that he’d accept any type of success, even if that meant doing Shigaraki’s bidding.

There was another possible explanation for the former hero’s actions, but it was the most disturbing of all. Keigo didn’t like to think about it, but perhaps he was still going out to assassinate the last rays of hope for humanity because he had actually started to enjoy it at some point. The thought made him sick to his stomach, but it was always there, lingering over his head in a cloud of self-doubt and disappointment.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon now and Keigo’s back and legs were starting to protest at being in the same position for so long. He’d been crouched behind a pile of wood pallets for hours, watching the large metal door that stood between him and his next victim. According to Shigaraki’s team, there’d been rumors that a hero had been spotted around this area the past few days, but perhaps the information had been false. Or maybe the hero had already moved to a new location.

Keigo passed the time by wondering who he might see step out from behind the door. The villains never told him who he would be killing. It was possible that they didn’t know themselves, but the more likely reason was that they withheld the information just to mess with Keigo’s head. If he didn’t know the name and face of his victims until they were right in front of him, it gave him no time to prepare for any emotional trauma that might come along with the kill. Sometimes Keigo was thankful they didn’t tell him though. That way he wouldn’t have to agonize over taking the life of someone he’d once been close to. Other times though, he wished to know the name just for the mere fact that it was hard to decide how he was going to go about completing his job without knowing the strengths and weaknesses of the target beforehand.

The faint sound of a lock clicking open pulled Keigo’s focus back to the metal door. He reached down to pull his blade from the sheath on his belt and prepared to strike as fast as possible. These jobs would be so much easier if he still had his wings, but he’d adjusted and found ways to win without a quirk. The door opened slowly and a familiar figure appeared. Keigo swore under his breath. It was Ectoplasm.

Keigo had never been close to the pro hero who had also been the math teacher at UA high school once upon a time, but the fact that his quirk allowed him to make clones of himself meant that this job was about to be extremely difficult. There was no way to know if the man he saw now was the real one or not. The revelation of this triggers a memory of another man who could double himself, fleeing from the fight as Keigo’s long red feather came down from above and stabbed him in the back. That’s right, Keigo thinks while shaking his head to try and banish the memory from his mind. He had been a murderer even before he’d nearly been burnt alive and the villains took over. He was going to have to deal with Ectoplasm quickly before any other reminders of his past came back to haunt him.

* * *

The streets were completely dark now as Keigo made his way back to his apartment, clothes tattered and splattered with blood. In the end, he’d managed to take out Ectoplasm. When he’d gone to deliver the body to Shigaraki though, the villains had just mocked him for looking so battered before sending him away. He was a joke to them. Why did he continue to help them?

At times like these, Keigo longed for his wings. He missed the sky which had always been the place he’d felt most in control. He missed the speed that made him feel free and untouchable. He missed the sound of people calling out to him as he flew by, hoping for a chance to interact with their favorite pro hero.

Even then though he hadn’t truly been free. For as long as he could remember he’d been under someone’s boot, always trying to serve them and please them in the hopes that one day he’d get to live the life he really wanted to. So what did it matter if the person he was shackled to now was a villain?

“Hawks.”

Keigo freezes, not only at the sound of the name he rarely heard anymore, but also at the familiarity of the voice saying it. His bad day had just gotten a whole lot worse. He turns slowly to face the person who had risked coming out of the shadows to confront him.

“Tsukuyomi.” The student Keigo had quite literally taken under his wing as an intern way back when stood before him, looking stronger and fiercer than the last time they’d met. It was obvious he’d still been training the past few years in preparation for the day heroes came back to reclaim society. For the first time, Keigo was actually glad for the burn scar marring the left side of his face and his missing wings. At least it meant the kid in front of him could differentiate between the hero he’d once been and the monster he’d become, or had there ever actually been a difference?

“Why did you turn to the darkness, teacher?” The boy asks in his deep calm voice. “Nobody blamed you for what happened with Twice. You did what you had to do. That sin was a redeemable one.” Keigo’s stomach twisted at the words. This kid still thought enough of him to call him ‘teacher.’ Perhaps killing Twice had been something the hero ‘Hawks’ could’ve come back from. But it seemed the former intern still had no idea about what he’d done to Best Jeanist, the hero that had welcomed ‘Hawks’ into his home only to be cut down, stuffed in a bag, and used as a sacrifice for Keigo’s failed mission.

Yes, he was a failure. A failure as a hero and a failure as a role model for this student who had looked up to and trusted him. But how was he ever supposed to have succeeded in a world that had allowed good people to become villains, and bad people to become heroes? The people in charge had promised to make Hawks into a shining hero but had raised him to be a killing machine designed to follow orders without question. They’d ignored broken people who genuinely needed help, and allowed a man who had abused and neglected his family to raise up to be the number one hero. They’d told young aspiring heroes that killing was never okay before sending them into a war zone to watch their teachers and friends get slaughtered right in front of them. Keigo suddenly thought he might understand why he’d chosen to side with the villains. At least Shigaraki had been honest about wanting to destroy the world.

“Tsukuyomi,” Keigo takes advantage of his student’s trust and closes the distance between them, pulling the boy into a one armed embrace. “I’m sorry.” He pulls the bloody blade from his hip and plunges it quickly into the boy’s stomach, removing the weapon just as quickly so he can back away in case he activated his quirk. The boy falls to the ground looking shocked as he desperately tries to cover the bleeding wound.

“Hawks,” the boy still seemed to remain calm as he tried to think of a way out of the situation. “I don’t understand.” Keigo tunes out the sounds of his dying student by assuring himself that this was for the best. If Shigaraki found out he’d talked to a hero and let him escape, everything he’d done so far would’ve been a waste. What was more, the kid would no longer need to live in hiding in a cruel world with the false hope that someday things might be better. In some ways, Keigo could still consider himself a hero. He was saving people by taking away the misery of living in such a harsh reality. It was an easier way to look at it.

Keigo walks back over to his student and picks up the lifeless form, knowing that it would bring him a few steps closer to having the complete trust of the villains. One day, maybe, the darkness would truly be vanquished.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #Keigo Takami #Hawks #Cindy's Writing

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carl-grimxz · 4 years

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Confused Feelings- Part 4

Carl Grimes x Reader

Part 4

Summary: The group move into the farm and plan to settle in and relax for the night, but when something happens that puts them in danger, Y/N’s feelings are seriously put into perspective.

Word Count: 3,654

Warnings: Possibly near death???

A/N: Things get serious in this one guys, real talk... emotions are heightened and this was a fun one to write! I’m glad to see a few people are liking this series, I may have to carry on doing even more in the future, depending on how these next couple go!!! Enjoy :D

It was dark now which made it hard to know exactly what the farm looked like, but it seemed cool. I’m just happy that we’re gonna be relatively safe for the night. Especially with that fence up.

It was a small farm, well… it looked more like a large-ish house that happened to have a field and stables. Somehow I have a good feeling about this place though. We all walked up the steps and through the porch that appeared to run the length of the house and entered through the white painted front door.

Before long, we had lit some torches and had enough light to see more clearly. We had entered into a large living room, complete with couches, a bookshelf, an old TV that obviously wouldn’t work and other usual stuff that you’d find in a room like this. I looked around and realised most of the ground floor was open plan. An average sized kitchen right off of the living area.

“Looks pretty decent” Michonne acknowledged.

We were all exhausted and so didn’t say much before we moved straight to settling in. Very quickly, Carol had some canned food ready to eat and we were all sat around on the couches eating. Well, actually there’s too many of us to all fit on the couches so Carl, Rosita, Sasha, Glenn and I sat on the floor to eat. We didn’t mind though. The atmosphere was really relaxing.

There was quiet conversation as we ate, and I decided to see what Carl thought of this place so far. I always value his opinion.

“So…” I spoke up, nudging him “You like it here?”

He glanced at me and then back to his can to load some more tomatoes in his mouth.

“Well I mean, we’ve been here less than an hour…” He smirked

I rolled my eyes. He knew what I meant.

“…But yeah. I like it so far.” He smiled. “I get a good feeling about this place”.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Rick cut in, addressing the whole group.

“I know it’s been tough recently…” He sighed. We all felt that. “Really tough. But I’m proud of every single one of you for staying strong and pushing through. It’s hard, I get it. But I want you to know that we will make it. We’re a family. We always will be”.

Everyone was deep in thought. No doubt thinking over everything we’ve had to endure to get here. Carl turned to me and gave me a knowing smile. I returned it.

“Your dad’s right” It was near a whisper that left my mouth.

“I know”, he nodded his head in thought.

Our eyes were back on Rick.

“I think this could be the place. The one we’ve been looking for. Somewhere we can call home and not only survive… but thrive” Rick had a grin on his face. Almost getting emotional over what could be.

“It can be”, Michonne added. She always supported him, it was very sweet.

“Amen to that” Abraham cheered, lifting his glass of wine that they were pleased to find in the kitchen.

All of a sudden there was a low grumble that could be heard. It was faint, but there was no doubt on anyones minds what it could be.

Walkers.

We looked around at each other. Slight panic in our faces, we were caught off gaurd, trying to decide our next move. The mood had changed in an instant.

“That’s outside” Carol directed at Rick “Doesn’t sound that far away!”

Rick rushed to the undrawn windows and peaked outside. A faint look of fear emerged on his face.

“Oh my god” Glenn gasped, standing at another window. “There’s loads of them! Where did they come from?”

Carl and I exchanged glances. I could tell he was slightly scared and so was I. He seemed to edge closer to me, making me feel a little better. We all had our weapons drawn.

“We’re gonna have to face them head on. Can’t let them get too close”, Rick acknowledged while pacing.

He marched towards Carl and I.

“Tyreese has got Judith-“

“Dad don’t tell us to stay in here. We’re gonna help fight!” Carl looked at me for support. We’ve always wanted Rick to trust us more with this kind of thing. I nodded quickly, knowing we didn’t have much time for persuasion.

Rick looked between the both of us, reading our faces. I could tell he was trying to make up his mind.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” I answered matter of factly, while checking how many bullets I had in my gun.

Now Carl nodded.

“Ok c’mon then”

Rick led us all outside. The walkers got louder once they saw us, close to tearing down the fences.

“Stay in formation. Don’t let them get too close and use knives if you can. We don’t wanna draw any more in”, we all starting to spread out when Rick grabbed our attention again “Hey… Be careful.”

With that we all headed towards the snarling monsters. I thought I’d be a lot more afraid than I actually feel. What with what happened before. But now I’m here and it matters. I know I’ll be ok.

I looked at Carl as we strode towards them and he nodded. That was all I needed.

There were loads of them. At least thirty. This would be tough but we can manage.

I lost sight of everyone else. Even Carl. I knew they were there, fighting the fight with me. But I was focused on the task at hand.

I neared a walker and raised my arm at the ready, knife in hand. At this point I grew weary realising that the thing coming towards me was actually extremely tall. Much taller than me. It would be hard to get its head while it’s still upright, so I thought quickly. I took a slight run up and kicked its right knee cap. With a struggle it fell to the floor and began crawling at me instead, hands fighting to grab me. Without a second thought I plunged my knife in and out of it’s skull with force and it ceased all movement instantly.

I had managed to kill a good three or four when I heard gunshots and a struggle to my left. There weren’t many walkers left at this point and I thought it was going quite well. That is until I saw what the commotion was about.

At the other end of the field. There was Carl, underneath a walker.

He was struggling to keep it from sinking its teeth into his flesh. Carl had both hands holding the walker up and I couldn’t see his gun or knife. The others were busy with their own walkers and couldn’t help, but I had already made the decision.

I started running as fast as my legs could carry me, like this was the only thing that mattered. It was. I was panicking, more than I ever have before. Even above the time that it was me in Carls position. That was nothing compared to how I felt right now. If his hands slip… If he loses strength for even a split second… he’d be gone. I couldn’t bare it.

“Hang on!” I screamed at the top of my lungs

In my hurry I run straight into another walker of my own. No time for this. No time for knives. I knew Rick would judge me for using my gun but being quiet was not my highest priority. I sent a bullet straight through the walkers skull and pushed it away as it fell towards me.

I tripped slightly, either over my own feet or the walker. I fought not to fall, trying to be quick, and remained upright still trying to get to Carl as fast as I could. I should have stayed by his side. Idiot. Why did he have to be so far away?

“Hang on Carl!” I became fearful, shooting another walker that was nearing him. Nearly there.

I was so close now.

I see the walkers teeth. They sink into Carls shirt right at his neck.

“CARL!!” I screamed a gut-wrenching scream in complete and utter horror.

I wasn’t quick enough.

He still fought with the thing that had proved just too strong for him. He was bit. He must have been. I could feel myself falling apart. Legs turning to jelly as I neared him.

Carl pushed back with all his might, only making the monster more aggressive. My heart was pounding in my chest and in my throat, everywhere. It felt like it was being ripped from my body. Struggling to fight back tears, I carried on. I had to get to him.

I was there.

At great force from the speed at which I was travelling I kicked the monster off of him. Taking all of my anger out on it. Off of the boy that I now knew for sure meant more to me than anything. It rolled over unwillingly, attempting to get back up. All of the other walkers were dead now. In the corner of my eyes I could see everyone make their way over, trying to work out what was happening from behind me. I was overcome by a rage that I had never felt before.

I wasn’t going to let this thing get back up. One shot in the chest, and another and another, continually until Sasha tried to pull me back, I fought her off to send one final bullet through the centre of the beasts head. Tears were now streaming down my face.

I escaped Sashas arms, ignoring her completely. I stumbled and fell to the floor, landing beside Carl.

“It bit you!” I cried in disbelief as I pulled at his shirt collar trying to examine him as he laid there.

“No Y/N, I’m fine!” His eyes were wide grabbing at my wrists, restraining me “I’m ok! It didn’t get me! It just got my shirt” He tried desperately to calm me, out of breath himself from trying to fight the thing off.

He’s ok? He wasn’t bit.

“You’re ok?” I whimpered as if I needed him to say it again, to convince me. I was so sure that he was gone. I was truly sobbing now. Everyone was silent as they observed, and Carl had a look on his face that I had never seen before. He was shocked by my reaction.

“Yes” he exhaled, relieved, still attempting to calm me. “Yeah, I’m fine!” He sat up slightly and his arms traveled up to grip my shoulders. My eyes scanned over his body for any sign of a bite. No blood. Nothing, except a scratch across his face. He will be ok.

“Oh my-“ I spluttered, not even able to get my words out. I have never cried this hard. Ever. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breath. He was so close to being gone forever.

He pulled me into his chest hard and I clung to him for dear life, scared to let go. He held me firmly, as close to him as physically possible and my face sank into his neck.

“Carl I-“ I still struggled to get any words out while I bawled, tears soaking the flannel covering his shoulder. My chin trembled as if I was a child.

“It’s ok. I’m right here, I’m alright”. Carl spoke tenderly attempting to pacify me.

I honestly didn’t remember much of what took place next. I know we made our way inside, but it was all a bit of a blur. Something had come over me out there. When I thought I’d lost him… something in me broke. Now it was like my mind was working double time to try and fix the pieces back together again.

But now I know… It took almost losing Carl to realise.

I’m already in love with him.

All this time I’ve spent trying to suppress my feelings before they got too strong. It was pointless, because it’s too late. They already exist, and I can’t do anything about them. He never leaves my mind, he’s always there. Carl Grimes is my one steady force, my one stability in a world filled with chaos and death and darkness. I so desperately need him in my life. I can’t believe I’m only now realising it… But I’m still afraid. Too afraid.

Nobody even mentioned my outburst of emotion that took place outside. I think they found it easier on all of us to carry on as normal. Most of the group were in the living area downstairs as they talked about what to do next, with the dead walkers and the damaged fence, that kind of thing. I sensed that they were trying to give Carl and I some space after it all. I hadn’t left his side.

We were in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. There were quite a few bedrooms actually, enough to fit us all at least. Carol was seeing to the scratch on his cheek that he had obtained from the fight. They were sat on the bed, while I was in a chair in the corner of the room, watching her tend to the wound.

I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In all honesty I felt like a coward right now. At this point everyone must know how I feel about him, including Carl, but I’m sat here now too frightened to even sit with him.

“Ok”, Carol stood up still looking at Carl, “I’ve cleaned it and it’s not so bad. I don’t think you need anything on it, just leave it to heal and it’ll be fine Carl”, she smiled at him.

“Thanks” I couldn’t see his face. He had his back to me.

“No problem, I’m just glad you’re ok” Carol walked towards the door a little. “I’ll um… give you two some space… some time to talk” She looked at me now, smiling only slightly, and giving me a knowing look. Like she felt for me or something. Then she was gone, closing the door gently behind her.

Carl turned around to face me, hoping for me to say something I think. His face was expressionless, but my heart sank a little to see the scratch on his face that ran a couple of inches down from his cheek bone.

I anxiously stood up and closed the gap between us, taking a seat on the bed next to him. We exchanged looks of sadness, and my hand went up to rest on his injured cheek carefully. He looked me in the eyes while I examined the space under my fingers, being careful not to touch the actual scratch itself. I didn’t want to hurt him.

“Does it hurt?” I asked quietly as my hand went back down to my lap.

“No it’s fine. I can barely feel it” It sounded like he was trying hard to convince me, not wanting me to worry.

I nodded. “Carl I’m so glad you’re ok” my voice trembled and I could feel my whole face battling to let out more tears. I composed myself and managed to fight them back down, before they escaped.

“I know, me too” he nodded and leant over to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I looked him straight in the eyes, trying desperately to work out what he was thinking… what he was feeling. We hadn’t spoken at all since coming back inside.

“Y/N I can’t…” He sighed “We have to stop this. I can’t do it anymore” Carl sighed again and dropped his head down in his hands briefly in frustration.

“What?” I couldn’t say it.

“We both know…” He urged me to help him out but I couldn’t. I just can’t say it out loud.

I shook my head, avoiding eye contact all together.

Carl took hold of both of my hands and so I had to look at him.

“You know it, and so do I.” He was starting to sound desperate in his attempts to get me to admit to him what he clearly already knows. He put my hands down and gathered his thoughts. “There is something- I don’t know what but me and you… We aren’t just friends and you know it. I know it isn’t all just in my head”.

Carl wanted me to confess, but I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Y/N say something. Tell me you feel the same way.” He looked at me earnestly, waiting.

It broke my heart. I wish I could give in but right now my fear of the possibility of losing him somewhere along the line is greater than my hankering to be with him. It hurts but I can’t.

I picked up his left hand and gave it a tight squeeze with the both of mine. I smiled looking into his beautiful blue eyes and a couple of tears finally broke loose. “I’m sorry” I said, and I meant it.

“Carl I’m sorry… but I just… I can’t” It took everything in me to tear myself away from him but I did. I let go of his hand, stood up and left the room.

As soon as I had shut the door behind me, I stood still for a second and let out a silent sob. I had my hands to my mouth so nobody would hear, and all the tears that I had been holding in for the past few minutes came pouring out, like a dam that had burst it’s banks. I saw Sasha watching from the bottom of the stairs but I couldn’t face anyone, not even her. Not right now. I wiped away the tears and moved across the hallway to another random bedroom and shut myself inside. I wanted to be alone.

I only cried for a few more minutes before I willed myself to pull it together. I don’t usually cry much but I’ve been doing an awful lot of it today. It hurt though, wanting something so bad but not being able to allow myself to have it. Besides, being with him will only cause me more pain in the long term.

As I lay on the bed stuck in my own thoughts, I hear a door open and shut, and then footsteps going downstairs. That must be Carl. I’m glad he didn’t come after me. I wouldn’t know what else to say to him.

Around a half hour later and I heard more footsteps coming up the stairs… and then a knock at the door. I’m nervous to find out who it is.

“Y/N it’s me”

Sasha.

“Can I come in please?”

I decided maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to speak to Sasha. She’s my friend and if I’m honest, I could really use one of those right now. I get up and let her in. I immediately notice the enquiring look upon her face. There’s a hint of pity too, like she’s worried for me. She has sad eyes as she focuses on mine.

“Hey, sorry I just… I’m really tired” I don’t know why I bother, she always seems to see right through me.

“Yeah I figured” She smiled empathetically.

“Listen if you wanna be alone that’s fine, I’ll leave but… I can stay and we can talk if you want?” She’s always been so kind to me.

“Come in” I shut the door behind her and we sat together on the bed.

She spoke up, “You’ve been crying haven’t you” It wasn’t a question, she knew I had.

“You mean since out there?” I pointed behind me to the window “Yeah a little”. There was a tiny hint of sarcasm in my voice. I figured I might as well make a joke out of it, or I’ll likely start crying again. This hasn’t been an easy night.

She sighed “Wanna tell me why?” She cares about me I know but she’s always asking me questions about how I feel. It’s exhausting.

“You know why” I spoke softer with a more serious tone now.

“I don’t. I mean I’m gonna hazard a guess and say that it has something to do with Carl but that’s all I got.”

I didn’t say anything.

“He looked really upset when he came downstairs Y/N. He told everyone he was fine and that you went to sleep cause you were tired, but there’s more to it than that.” She pressed.

“You should have been a detective before, not a firefighter” I chuckled, although I didn’t actually find any of it funny. In fact it breaks my heart to know I’ve hurt him. I never wanted that. He even covered for me telling them I was tired and went to bed early. He was far too sweet for this world.

“I’m serious! Cut the bullshit and tell me what’s wrong. You’re not ok. Now tell me the truth.” Sasha sounded frustrated now. I don’t blame her honestly.

“Ok fine” I sighed. “He told me- well he hinted that he liked me… as more than a friend-“

“Well that’s great, what’s wrong with tha-”

“No it’s not. I don’t… want that”

“Y/N who are you trying to kid?!” She stood up looking in shock.

“Urghh, fine I like him Sasha, but I don’t want to like him like that. I can’t be with him in that way” I laid down, rolling over to face the wall.

I let out a sigh.

She did something I didn’t expect. Sasha leant over and kissed me on the head. “I just care about you.” She sighed too, headed for the door.

“I know. I care about you too Sasha, but I’m tired of talking about it now” I really do care about her. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight Y/N”

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