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kingbuckley · 4 years

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Alright you guys this turned into an absolute monster of a fic rec. It’s organised by word count in descending order, and ALL FICS HAVE A HAPPY ENDING!! i don’t read fics that don’t end happy so even if a fic seems scary you can rest assured it ends fine if it’s here.

Special shoutout to @thisissirius (same ao3 handle) and @getbvcked (attolians (annber) on ao3) i have all their fics bookmarked so i didn’t include them individually in this list but you should check them out because every fic they put out is amazing.

the rest is under the cut:

Breaking and Entering by AngelCuttingOnions (g/1k): Have you ever been terrified to lose something that isn’t even yours? Digging helplessly at the mud with your bare hands, so determined not to let go, not to give up. Your heart going so fast you think it might just beat out of your chest.

in any place you'll allow by barelyprolific (m/1k): Cleaning duty has never looked as good as Evan Buckley waxing floors.Or, Eddie Diaz finally makes his move.

Care and Keeping by BlackRose (m/1k): Eddie's alive, but he almost wasn't. Buck's determined to keep him safe now more than ever. Eddie, wants Buck to feel seen.

Cool for the Summer by Onlymystory (e/1k): Buck comes over to apologize to Eddie. It's a very good apology.

fireworks have nothing on you by inkandella (nr/1k): Buck’s tears had dried not too long ago, but his hands still shook as he wrung them. Bobby had just left to deal with, well, everything, but Buck remained by the truck, refusing to drag his eyes from Eddie for even a second. Eventually it was just Hen and Chim that remained, and Buck could finally see Eddie clearly. The man’s face was streaked with mud, dirt, and blood, his shoulders were bowed and eyes stared blankly off somewhere ahead of him. Buck bit his lips, but it didn’t really help him from asking again. “Is he okay?”Or; Buck finally does something about it.

Hotel Complaints and Grievances Raised by asexual-fandom-queen (m/2k): After a night out with the 118, Eddie wakes up with Buck naked in bed, and a barrage of feelings to face.

fight so dirty/love so sweet by homewrecker (m/2k): Buck and Eddie go for the title.

YOUR MOUTH IS HEAVEN by AgnesClementine (t/2k): A tongue piercing. Buck has a tongue piercing. Which is fine. Totally fine. Eddie is absolutely not going to lose sleep because of that information.

Zoom Into My Heart by Shaniamr (m/2k): Buck didn't know that zoom shared your private chats at the end of the meeting, but he's about to find out.

collisions in the dark by Marcia Elena (marciaelena) (e/2k): Eddie and Christopher spend the night at Buck's. Coda to 3x09.

What do you need? by RealOrFiction (e/2k): Buck has needs. Needs that haven't been met in a while.

Great Game by LovelyLittleGrim (e/2k): Buck’s watching him, waiting for some type of response. “Scared, Diaz?”“I don’t have any reason to be scared, Buckley.” He meets Buck’s eyes, lips quirked and murmurs, “I always come out on top.”

Buck Wild by Ithinkwehaveanemergency (m/2k): Eddie accidentally finds out that his best friend, coworker, and secret crush has done gay porn.

no greater joy by elisela (g/2k): When he wakes again, he finds Buck and Christopher out in the backyard, snuggled into the hammock that Buck had brought over months earlier, the day after Christopher had offhandedly mentioned that he’d been in one during a camping trip once and liked it. Buck was fooling no one when he said he’d happened to find it in storage, and Eddie had helped him set it up immediately, basking in the second-hand glow of Buck’s complete adoration of his son.

No Rest for the Wicked by Wassereis (e/2k): Eddie gets home early. What he finds wasn't what he expected.

people who love the same by templemarker (t/2k): Buck was just reheating a plate for Eddie when he heard a very familiar snort behind him."Okay, what now," he said expectantly."So," Hen drawled, "you have one plate on the counter, steaming, already had a couple of bites. And now you've got a second plate," she gestured at the microwave to the reheating lasagne, "and we all know who that plate's for."Buck looked at her, tilting his head. "I mean, I always make a plate for Eddie," he said, confused.

One Week by elisela (g/3k): Christopher's week revolves around Buck.

wherever I'm with you by anonymous (g/3k): In which Buck can't settle down in his own apartment until he realizes the true meaning of the word home.Or; Sleeping is easier when it's with Eddie.

To Be Whole by mansikka (t/3k): They say that when you and your soulmate are ready to meet, whatever they write on their skin will appear on yours, and vice versa. Which Buck thinks is bullshit. Right up until words start appearing on his arm.

Pull The Pin by islandgirl (g/3k): Everything they've been feeling and not saying is like a grenade between them and damn it all, Buck is ready to pull the pin, let the explosion happen and for everything to fall into place.

Long Overdue by mansikka (m/3k): Eddie realizes his feelings for Buck are more than platonic; what's he supposed to do now?

you could write this love in stone by chocolatebirdie (nr/4k): "Whatever happens, after tonight, I just want you to know that your friendship has meant everything to me. You’re my best friend, Eddie. You and Chris are – are like family to me. And I’m really grateful to have met you both.”“Why does this sound like you’re breaking up with me?” Eddie asks. The confusion-amusement ratio has started to skew towards the former, with an added dose of concern. Well maybe if he’d shut up and let Buck talk, Eddie wouldn’t be so puzzled.Did he have to use the phrase “break up,” though? Buck’s not sure he can stand the implication.

you can always be found by chocolatebirdie (nr/4k): Abby's back in LA, and she keeps trying to get in touch with Buck. The only problem? He's literally always with Eddie.

Until the Dancing Ends by suyari (g/4k): It’s been the strangest day of his life to date.Or the one where everyone's seen the footage of the rescue but Eddie.

when the hardest part is over by Anonymous (g/4k): “It’s okay,” Buck rasps out, tight against Eddie’s ear. “We got you back. We got you. You’re safe.”It sounds like he’s reassuring himself as much as Eddie – might even be saying it for Christopher’s sake even though the boy is blissfully unaware of what’s happened tonight. A mantra spoken to the night like a victory speech, a reminder that it could take nothing away from them.

Not Done by red_to_black (nr/4k): Buck volunteered to get into the ambulance with him, knowing the risks. He's pinching the guy's skin and saying, "Take it out," and Eddie, for the first time since leaving the military, feels it - a connection. A kindred spirit. A purpose that tethers him to reality. A person relying on him to get the job done.(or - a list of things Eddie Diaz couldn't give up on, including himself.)

Talk About It by DoneInLove (e/4k): You want to send me your dickpic?Just to see if it looks okay. Buck starts sending Eddie his dick pics before he sends them to other people.Eddie doesn't know why he decided this was a good idea.

Guessing Game by Arsenal (t/4k): Buck overhears Eddie telling his mother that he has feelings for someone and drives himself nuts trying to figure out who is possibly could be. aka yet another oblivious Buck fic

Happy Buck Day by Jecari (g/5k): After pushing the balloons tied to Christopher's crutch away, Eddie finds his best friend frowning, mouth agape. Buck looks adorable."It's not my birthday," Buck points out after shaking his head."We know," Christopher laughs.

Buck Is My Warrior by elisela (g/5k): “We’ll be filming a special edition of American Ninja Warrior,” Troy announces after the introduction to the current contestant ends, “focused on our brave first responders. Go to our website to find out more details and how to submit your videos.”Oh.“Buddy,” Eddie says, “I don’t really know if that’s my thing.”Christopher looks at him, then down at his feet and mumbles something.“Didn’t catch that, kiddo,” Eddie says, reaching out and pressing two fingers under Chris’ chin to tilt his face back up.“I said,” Christopher says, “I want to nominate Buck.”

Eddie Diaz and the Cat-astrophe at the 118 by SquaresAreNotCircles (g/5k): It’s Chimney who rescues her from the tree, but it’s Bobby’s arms that she curls up in on the drive over to the vet to get her checked out. Right from the start, it’s as if she knows who she needs to cozy up with to secure her spot at the station.“Come on, that’s crazy,” Buck says, but he does so while laughing not at Eddie, but at the grey tabby cat trying to get her claws on the fake mouse on a string that Buck bought with his own money, so Eddie doesn’t put too much stock in his opinion.Or: The firefam adopts a mascot and Eddie has a minor crisis about it.

Evan Buckley and a Series of Unintended Consequences by Shaniamr (e/6k): Buck has been hurt on the job and has lost the ability to use his hands while they heal. Eddie jumps at the opportunity to help Buck with anything he needs. Anything.

Love Language by red_to_black (nr/6k): The one in which there's too much pollen around, Eddie pines, and Buck is oblivious.Or - Eddie's love language is acts of service, and Buck doesn't totally get it.

The Other Woman by MomentsOfWeakness (t/6k): Buck has been unlucky in love lately and he can't figure out why. It takes a phone call from Eddie and an interrupted date for him to finally put the pieces together.

My Favorite Place Is Inside Your Hug by Lopithecus (e/7k): When Eddie gets stuck in a hole while trying to rescue a kid, he remembers Afghanistan and how many people were lost. Luckily he has Buck in his corner to help him get through the memories.

give me strength so i can see by see_addy_write (t/7k): After the tsunami, Buck is sure Eddie won't want him anywhere near Christopher -- or himself. Both of the Diaz boys have something to say about that.

haircut to the heart by itsmylifekay (nr/8k): 5 times Buck cuts Christopher’s hair and 1 time Christopher helps cut his.

In the Aftershock by hideeho (t/8k): When Eddie is injured on the job, Buck is forced to face the fallout.

Slow Your Thinking by an_alternate_world (e/10k): Eddie has the itch to fight, the discomforting unease of needing to release all his negativity again making it difficult to concentrate on the calls. Buck suggests an alternative: surrendering his need for control to Buck for a while.

Just For This Moment by suyari (m/10k): “Take your time,” Carla said sternly. “Don’t rush this because you’re worried, Buck, do you hear me? Any change in your scent could just set him off.”“Yes, thank you, I know how to deal with Alphas,” he drawled.“Yes, but Eddie’s not just another Alpha and I think it’s time we acknowledged that.”

You Are Safe (With Me) by BabylonsFall (g/10k): Or: 5 times Eddie waltzed into Buck's apartment like he owned it, and 1 time Buck tried

you waltz through my bloodstream by wayfarer (t/2k): Buck gets a boyfriend and Eddie is totally fine with that. Really.

can't fight that feeling by Anonymous (e/11k): “We have to keep this quiet,” he realizes.“That’s,” Eddie starts, his eyebrows tilting inwards adorably. “I mean, yeah, if that’s what you wanna do, then—”“Not for long,” Buck protests. “I’m thinking until tomorrow.”The eyebrows rise with interest; the eyes beneath get their spark back. “Yeah?”“It’s Maddie and Chimney’s wedding day,” Buck says, slipping his hands down the last bit and entwining them with Eddie’s. “Today should be solely about them, about their love. You and I can have tomorrow. All the tomorrows.”

Just Hold Me Well by Lobotomite (m/11k): It was meant to be a fun little trip with his 118 family; no stress, no drama, and certainly no sexuality-redefining fumbles that make him realize his more than platonic feelings towards his best friend. But, well, when has anything ever gone according to plan for Buck?

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things (nr/11k): Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

Darling It's Better (Down Where It's Wetter) by Onlymystory (e/20k): "Who the hell is that?" asks Buck. Like he doesn't know exactly who that is. Like a week ago he wasn't enjoying one of the best fucks of his life with Eddie Diaz. Or the reason for Buck's surprise at the new recruit isn't quite for the reasons everyone thinks.

i think i might've inhaled you by ariquitecontrary (m/20k): How do you tell your best friend that you're actually in love with them? If you're Evan Buckley, you don't.

dancing under red skies by dayswithout (g, 30k) Buck hates Eddie Diaz on sight.aka, a soulmate au. (Eddie’s POV; g/15k)

dancing under red skies by dayswithout (g/30k): Buck hates Eddie Diaz on sight.aka, a soulmate au.

The Education of Eddie Diaz by mansikka (e/30k): Eddie doesn't really know how it happened. One moment the 118 are drunk in a bar after a hard shift, confessions slipping from his mouth as he playfully kisses Buck on the cheek. The next he is on Buck's couch, taking up Buck's offer of an education that could be asking for trouble. But it's just sex, and they're just friends; it doesn't mean anything to either of them. So why is his time alone with Buck the highlight of his week?

Guess We'll Just Have to Adjust by CocoBadShip (m/30k): No, Buck does not have a damn crush on Eddie fucking Diaz. No, Buck is not thinking about Eddie's stupid smile or his stupid hair or that obscene sound he made when he pushed the couch the way he did.Having a crush would be weird. And dumb. And the last thing Buck needs in his already fucked up life.

tagging those of you who requested @lafdbuckley @casscent @googoodreamers

and some mutuals because why not @eddiediazs @judsonryder @fierydeans @buckleystrand

#buddie #buddieedit #buddie fic rec #dailybuddie #911 fic rec #911 #911edit #mine #fic rec #ignore the shitty gif

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

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Since your last post implied it I would love to know about your AU recommendations ❤ I am obsessed too!! Thanks in advance 🙏🏻

hello! I hope you don’t mind if I just make a basic list of some of the AU stories I have read or want to read. Not in any order I just went through my bookmarks on AO3 :) Also I need to read more...Under the cut because it got too long!

Angel's Wild (not gonna lie this is my favorite fic. I have read this almost a dozen times now)

Summary: But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels.

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right?

That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Checked Out

Summary: Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

A Ghost Story

Summary: Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

Patient Love

Summary: Castiel Novak is 27 when he suddenly loses his twin brother Jimmy, and his whole world turns to ashes. How do you deal with losing half of yourself when your whole life always revolved around the two of you, like yin and yang and black and white? How do you deal with a broken soul and old demons looming over you with no one to hold you back anymore?

After 10 years as a Navy Special Warfare Operator and more than a dozen deployments in both Afghanistan and Iraq, a battlefield injury forces 28-year-old Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester to chose between being stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career or going back to civil life. When he learns about his friend Jimmy’s death, Dean makes his way back to Kansas with his heart in his throat and broken pieces at his feet.

Things are already complicated and painful enough as it is, but when former lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak meet again after 10 years of radio silence and a galaxy of wounds and scars solidly standing between them, it feels like both a curse and a blessing has been placed on them both. Is there any hope in putting back their broken pieces together after a decade, and how do you deal with grief and broken dreams?

The Unbroken

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

While You Were Sleeping

Summary: A Destiel version of While You Were Sleeping! Castiel is alone and floundering. He has a crush on one of the passengers who passes through his subway station every morning. When the man gets pushed onto the tracks, Cas saves him. But when they get to the hospital there's a mix up and Cas finds himself engaged to a complete stranger. Enter, the rest of the family, including big brother Dean. How will Cas navigate the relationship with his supposed future in-laws? What will he do when Sam finally wakes up? And why can't he stop thinking about Dean?

Purgatory, director's cut

Summary: this doesn’t have a summary but it is dean and cas in purgatory and it’s soooo cool! I promise it’s amazing and worth the read!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise

Summary: Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process.

But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

What Greater Gift

Summary: Story idea: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.

From a prompt found on Tumblr. Saw this and I couldn't resist a Destiel AU, and I've been wanting to write Witch!Cas for ages.

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Summary: Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

They end up going through a lot more than a case, unfolding feelings left untold for so long, discovering parts of each other they never intended to uncover.

But will the feelings raging inside them be enough to bring their walls down?

A Fish Out of Water

Summary: To tie up the loose ends of a hunt, Dean is forced to go undercover and visit Brock Pleasure Ranch, a horrifying establishment that markets its inhabitants to people with ‘monstrous’ tastes.

It should have been a simple thing, to persuade a mer to give him a few scales for a spell. All part of the usual Winchester byline: saving people, hunting things.

But Castiel is far less of a ‘thing’ than Dean expected. He might not be human, but he’s definitely a person. And that means he needs saving, too.

The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia

Summary: Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.

Just as lost as I

Summary: Dean's been in love with Castiel for centuries. He keeps it buried, never letting himself get too close, but when Castiel goes missing he doesn't hesitate. He's going to find him if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Love Bites

Summary: Cas Novak graduated with a 4.0 in Mathematics, but not even Naomi Novak’s money could help him at job interviews. Anxious and dissatisfied with life, at nearly thirty he’s still washing dishes in the back of his best friend Hannah’s café.Until one night when his cat drags an injured bat into his apartment.

Dean may be a vampire, but he’s not an asshole (well, not much.) He feels like he owes the awkward guy for rescuing him from the cat’s clutches, so he sets about changing Cas's life.

A silly story about families who aren’t quite what they seem, fake boyfriends, and falling in love with someone who’s never, technically, met you.

The Bad Cop, Worse Cop Adventures of Freckles and Feathers

Summary: Miami. A place with beaches, babes, palm trees, and a growing drug-fueled crime organization. To help combat the drugs littering the streets, Captain Singer puts together a Tactical Narcotics Team composed of Miami's two finest and fearless officers. Charming casanova Dean Winchester has fought tooth and nail, rising through the ranks for this position. Trench coat toting Castiel Novak knows more hand-to-hand combative techniques than he does people skills. Between Dean's big mouth and Castiel's take-no-shit attitude, their introductory meeting ends on a less than stellar note and a couple of hard to shake nicknames.

After six months of partnership, the nicknames have stuck and so has the sexual tension. When a murder in the middle of the night launches their biggest lead on a cleverly evasive drug lord, Dean is shocked to find Sam at the center of it. Sam comes clean with his involvement and Charlie, their witness, seeks revenge against the man responsible for killing her friend. As the stakes rise higher so do Dean’s feelings putting everything in jeopardy. Is a cop with everything to prove, a cop with everything to lose, one computer hacker witness, and a damn good ADA enough to save the day?

The Care and Feeding of Castiel

Summary: Dean’s quiet time in the bunker is interrupted by some stranger-than-usual behavior from his angel. Oh, and feathers...there are a lot of those, too.

First Gentleman Wanted

Summary: President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

The Graveyard Shift

Summary: Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

The Path of Fireflies

Summary: After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Summary: Heaven is white.Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.-Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

Doing this made me realize I need to read more longer fics. I usually just read the short ficlets on tumblr but I need to broaden my horizon and read more. But yes! These are the AU’s currently in my bookmarks. Hope you find one to enjoy :)

#fic rec #answering the q's #lalisfandoms

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staytiny-angel · 5 years

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The Demon's Lair - Part 1

Rating: E overall T for this chapter

Main Pairing - Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch (be prepared they aren't monogamous quite yet)

Warnings: Mentioned Kidnapping, Murder, hints at symptoms of PTSD, Flogging,(super vague tho, )

Summary - Seth returns to The Lair after a month away on a mercenary mission to learn things aren't quite the way he left them.

Authors Note: I don't know what the fuck happened, I swore I was just gonna write a bunch of kinky smut. That was the plan but it grew a damn plot. A real one, not just a flimsy frame but a whole ass mansion. So I'm just gonna write a story and see where it takes me. Probably gonna come up with some sort of update schedule for this, Chase and Safe Haven.

Taglist: @askauradonprep @swifteforeverandalways @rxllynch @riottbliss @nothingbutmeworld @axelwolf8109 @biforbecky2belts @neversatisfiedgirl @superrezzy00 @nicolewoo

Seth exited his town car in the dim Brooklyn alley stretching and cracking his neck, stiff after an 11-hour day behind his desk, followed by 7 hours passed out on his office couch "Pick you up at 3 like always Mr. Rollins?" his driver asked.

"Yes, thank you Joey" Seth responded, handing the man a hundred dollar bill, "Why don't you pick up Jamie and the two of you have a nice dinner on me while you wait?"

"I think he'll like that, thank you, Mr. Rollins, Sir" Joey replied before pulling off and leaving Seth at a blood-red door with black script reading The Demon's Lair.

Seth both loved and hated the Lair. In many ways, the kink club was the only place he felt like himself. Where he could drop the facade he wore in his professional life and even with his family to an extent, but he hated it too. He hated that even though he felt so at home there and had plenty of wonderful friends and sometimes lovers…nobody seemed to want to keep him.

Breaking out of his increasingly morose thoughts, Seth used his member's card to unlock the door to the Lair and slipped inside. He'd been in the Middle East for several weeks, meaning he'd been 'On' the entire time and was absolutely looking forward to taking off his mask and letting the real Seth out to play.

"Sethie!" The pink-haired girl at the front desk yelled in happiness "I missed you!"

"Sup, Livvy" Seth replied with an easy grin as all the tension seemed to drop off his shoulders as he mentally locked the corporate shark in its tank for the next 6 hours.

The hyperactive submissive had standing permission from her Domme to hug on Seth whenever she wanted so she dashed around the desk and practically tossed herself into the older man's arms. "Miss Ruby said you were in the bad place for the last month so all the hugs for you," she says quietly

"Thank you sweetie pie," Seth whispered in her ear. "I'm just glad to be back," He says louder letting go of her. "So what I miss, any dirt?" he asks as he strips off his suit jacket and tie and then rolls up his sleeve.

"So we finally met Master Balor's mysterious protege." She tells her friend as she takes his cuffs out of a locked case beneath the desk.

"He told me he had asked her to come here. Something about a bad break up." Seth replied, "What's she like?"

"Miss Rebecca is here tonight tending the bar since Devvie is back in school right now, she has a thicker accent then Master Balor's, bright orange hair and she's really pretty. " Liv continues

Seth easily buckles the black leather cuffs with their inlaid red hearts onto his wrists, brushing his thumb over the words worked into the leather "Who's around that might want to play with me?"

"Master Balor and Miss Violet are waiting for you. Miss Renee tattled on you, babe." Liv says with a smile "Naughty Sethie you were supposed to go home and sleep." She teases wagging a finger at him "Now you're in tro-uble" she sings

Seth huffed and muttered under his breath "Bossy fucking Doms." While he, Finn and Violet weren't a permanent triad, the two switches did take care of him, trying to make sure the workaholic took care of himself at least somewhat. And since the pair had quite literally kept Seth from drinking himself to death after his 3 tours in Afghanistan, he did try least try to listen to them. Not that it always happened but at least he TRIED.

Liv shook her head and giggled "Yeah, have fun with that. I've got the desk for another hour and then its Moxie's turn.

Seth walked into the club properly and looked to see who was around, heading over toward the fireplace when he caught a glimpse of his Personal Assistant sitting in a club chair, her two submissives sitting at her feet. Easily kneeling alongside Roman and Mox, he smirked up at her "You are a goddamn tattletale, Miss Renee."

Renee Moxley tapped her boss's nose with the riding crop in her left hand, "You were supposed to go back to the penthouse and sleep when you got back from Saudi Arabia. Instead, you spent 11 hours in the office, of course, I told them"

"Finn and Violet are waiting for you downstairs, you have a demon to contend with."

"Son of a bitch, really?" Seth's head dropped. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. He's THAT pissed at me?"

"You passed out in the office from exhaustion AGAIN." Roman told his best friend quietly "I had to pick your ass up off the floor and put you on the couch. Did you really think no one was gonna tell the only two people you MIGHT listen to?"

Renee gestured with the crop for Seth to stand up, "Go on, don't keep them waiting" the Domme told him sternly

Now knowing that he was in deep shit, Seth quickly headed to the stairs, only casting a distracted look at the orange-haired woman behind the bar talking to Master Orton and Ember Moon.

When Seth entered Finn and Violet's private dungeon he gulped audibly because sitting in the plush red and black throne like a chair with Violet on his lap wasn't his slightly goofy friend Finn, but King Balor in full on warpaint.

"Oh…look Mon Roi, it's a naughty kitten," The blue-haired woman dressed in a black and red corset, stockings and tall heeled boots said quietly

"Kneel, Little Prince," Balor orders "and explain why Lady Renee called to tell me you disobeyed one of the few things we ask of you"

"My Liege, I slept on the plane on the way home. By the time I arrived in New York my inbox was full, I figured I would work for a few hours and then go home, but I lost track of time and the next thing I knew Moxley was waking me saying you had requested my presence"

"Kitten, we are not your Masters, but you requested this arrangement to help you stay healthy and safe after last summer's incident," Violet says quietly "Yet you disobeyed. Lady Renee said that Roman had to pick you up off of your office floor because you passed out. She had your private doctor come and check you and you didn't even wake up. You aren't taking care of yourself"

Seth opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Balor "Not another word Little Prince, you know very well you've earned yourself quite the punishment"

'Well, fuck' Seth thought to himself as he knelt in front of the throne after having been stripped of his black dress shirt and his hands cuffed behind his back as Violet circled him holding a flogger, Balor still sitting there watching avidly.

"This was supposed to be your welcome home present." She sighed "But someone decided to be a bad little prince"

"I'm sorry my Queen" Seth mumbled "This last mission…it was a lot."

"You are supposed to tell us when you feel these urges to work yourself half to death. Especially after solo missions, was that not the agreement that was made after you almost….left us last year?" Balor says quietly, voice filled with emotion

Seth winced at the mention of last summer, It had been a workday much like today but instead of someone picking him up, he'd tried to drive himself home. Seth had fallen asleep at the wheel and the subsequent accident had nearly ended his life. Now Seth never drove himself after long days at work and he'd hired Joey and his husband Jamie to be his drivers.

"Do you know how scared we were? Renee called us and said you were on the floor, not moving" Violet told him "Are you injured from your mission other then the scrapes and bruises I see?"

"No your majesty" Seth answered quietly

"Then 20, Little Prince. 10 from each of us" then we'll go upstairs to the bar and you can meet Rebecca. You will be nice about showing her your ways. Or we'll end up right back down here. Understand?" Balor commanded

"Yes My Liege" Seth replied quietly

Seth barely heard the whistle of the flogger before the first blow hit his back.

His King and Queen didn't have to know that at least for this time he'd pushed himself on purpose, wanting to not think about what he'd had to do to get a young girl back to her family, He rarely took on mercenary missions himself anymore for this very reason. The damage the killing and violence took took on his mental health was terrible and he wasn't coping well but his mother…his mother had asked a favor for a friend of a friend who's daughter had been kidnapped.

So Seth went and a month later he'd returned. The girl alive, her captor and his people very much dead and he with more blood-soaked memories he'd prefer not to have.

#Shai Writes #The Demon's Lair #Seth Rollins #Becky Lynch #Finn Balor #Rollynch #Ballins #Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch #Seth Rollins/Finn Balor #Roman Reigns/Jon Moxley/Renee Young #Finn Balor/OFC #Finn Balor/Seth Rollins/OFC

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oldidhrenniel · 5 years

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The Lies We Breath. | VII

➴ A/N: Two-hundred years later, ya girl posted. We getting close to the end, 3 chapters left! How would you like it to end? Let me know!

➴ Pairing: B. Russo / Reader.

➴ Warnings: Language, mentions of cheating, signs of depression. Explicit content in future chapters.

➴ Wordcount: 1098.

➴ Tagging: @lisssays @eversonaive @angelaiswriting

The sound of the clock ticking stopped being relaxing hours ago. It was past midnight and you laid awake in bed, staring at the bright white ceiling. Your first week awake was coming to an end and, after processing all the traumatic events you had to go through and discoverments you would rather forget, your brain was on a quest to decide which one of them was going to leave the deepest scar.

Would it be William cheating on you? No, of course that had hurt you in the beginning - and perhaps there was a small part of it that still did in the back of your mind, but after you started climbing the ladder of lies that Bill had built up over the months, you realized that that first step was nothing compared to the rest of the journey.

What about finding out that he knew María, one of your best friends, and the kids you had known since their first breath, were going to be killed in cold blood? Or the fact that he let it happen and still, in all his egoistical act, mourned with you for months? He would visit the Castle’s tombstones, talk about the children with such love it gave you goosebumps, and he even dared to remember that last time at the park. He even had the nerve to use the events as an excuse to put on pause your parenthood plan. It’s too fresh, I’m afraid, he had said.

Bill was a good liar, that was something you had to give to him, as painful as it was.

But no, that wouldn’t be either, because as upset as you were and as wicked as you found his actions, you also understood. What would’ve been of him, of you, if that video had seen the light? He would spend the rest of his life behind bars and you would’ve been, as now, in the crossfire. Bill was protecting you two, he just got lost on how to do it. Lied to the wrong people and trusted more of the same.

So, that leaves us with the torture your friend - or someone you had believed to be your friend, had put you through. It was something that, although you tried to forget about, the world reminded you of it with each breath you took. When you moved your sides would still hurt and the cuts would sting and you’d have to bite down your tongue to avoid screaming in pain, but that never stopped the tears. And then at night it didn’t matter how exhausted you were, you had to force yourself to not fall asleep or the nightmares would eat you alive. You had reached the top of the ladder, the safest step that was supposed to help you reach the goal, and you had fallen right after balancing yourself on it.

Yes, that did sound like a winner to you.

Before you knew tears were running down your face and you had to turn around so the pillow would muffle your sobs to avoid waking Bill up. He had enough with his nightmares, he didn’t have to go through yours as well. But you didn’t think that through, you moved too fast and without help, and soon your ribcage burned and some stitches had fallen. This time nothing was able to silence you and let out a scream that ended in a ragged cough. You then wished Frank had just ended it all so that at least the suffering would stop.

Bill woke up and ran to your side, a worried expression plastered on his face. Taking your hand in his, he called the nurse a couple of times, his voice strong and solemn although he didn’t need it, the nurses had learnt to be afraid of him long ago.

“It’s alright,” he said. His free hand caressed your hair in an attempt to sooth you. “It’s alright”.

But it wasn’t. The two of you knew that. If the pain didn’t kill you, then the drugs you had to be on would. No more options, it was shutting down or recover.

The thing was, it wasn’t such a simple choice to make. The pain made you want to die but it made you want to live too, and your brain couldn’t decide which option would be best.

If you died your muscles wouldn’t hurt, you wouldn’t have to be afraid of talking and breathing. The needle in your arm would disappear, the discomfort along with it. You wouldn’t have to be aware of your surroundings, in case someone else tried to murder you. It sounded like peace.

But you never craved peace, that’s why you married a soldier.

And if you lived, well, if you lived there was a chance of being better, of fulfilling the dreams you had let in pause while you did your best to survive in New York. Short after finishing high school, with Bill in Afghanistan, you had wanted to go to New Zealand and see in person the land that brought to life you favourite book, but you had to go to college if you wanted to rent an apartment and have a decent live, so you didn’t. And Shanghai was beautiful in Autumn, you had spent a long time learning Mandarin in hopes to go, but never had had the time. And Japan, you and Bill were going after your wedding, but he was called and it had to wait, then life kept making it difficult for him, for you, for your dreams; but Japan could still welcome you with its pink Spring. You even could help Jessica find a new apartment, as you had been promising your friend for the longest time.

In the back of your mind, there was also the thought of home. Visiting your parent’s grave once and for all. Give the Castle’s justice. Leave demons and nightmares behind.

There was so much good you could still do in the cruel world you had been born into. The same one you had hated with a burning passion but that in that moment, as the nurses added more morphine to your system to force your sleep, you viewed as beautiful, and hopeful, and worth it, no matter the hardships it had put you through.

So there were two paths; one of them was dead and dark while the other was full life and warmth. You stood before them barefoot, knowing it was your time to choose.

I’ve been cold for so long, you thought. It was the time for Summer.

#the lies we breath #my writing #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #netflix the punisher #marvel the punisher #frank castle #billy russo x you #billy russo angst #the punisher fanfic #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fanfic

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dyslexicsquirrel · 5 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) Additional Tags: Mistaken Identity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light-Hearted

Stony Bingo 2019 round 2 fill (square T5) Prompt: mistaken identity

Steve was not sure how he ended up in this mess. And it was a mess because the people surrounding him had been expecting… a model? Or something, he still wasn’t sure. There was a lot of arguing going on. All this because of some man at the airport holding a sign that said ‘Rogers’.

Steve had been on his way out of the airport after he hit baggage claim to go flag down a cab or see if he could get a Lyft or something. The guy holding the sign had been wearing a suit, looking bored, and checking his watch and Steve had thought maybe his friends had gotten him a car home as a surprise? It wasn’t like it was so far out of the realm of possibilities. He’d been gone for the majority of the last four years in the army. They could have wanted to do something nice, so Steve walked up to the guy. “You waiting for Rogers?”

“Yeah, that you?” He looked relieved at the possibility of getting to leave the airport. Steve hated to disappoint the guy, but he also wanted to make sure he wasn’t stealing someone else’s ride.

“Steve Rogers?”

“Eh,” the guy said with a shrug. “I didn’t get a first name. You coming or not?”

“I guess I’m coming?” So, he’s followed the guy out of the airport, into the summer heat, which was a completely different type of heat than the type he’d gotten use to after three deployments to the Middle East.

He was led to a limo, and the man opened the door, holding out his hand. “I’m Happy, by the way.”

Steve switched his duffle to his other hand and shook Happy’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“You want to keep your bag with you are you want to throw it in the trunk?”

“Um.” Steve bent down to get a look at the inside of the limo. “Think I’ll keep it. Thanks though.”

“No problem. Hop in, I know where you’re going so just relax. I hear it was a long flight.”

“The longest,” he said with a sigh. It was what it had felt like at least. He slid into the limo, Happy shut the door behind him, and then got into the driver’s seat. The partition was up, so Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket to send a message to the group chat.

Steve: omw. Flight was fine. So tired

Bucky: great! Cant wait to see you. Nat made the thing with the pasta

Nat: Nat can talk for herself. But I made the alfredo thing is what he means. Also there’s garlic bread

Steve: you’re a saint and not just for putting up with Buck

Bucky: haha you think youre so fucking funny. I dont care youve been in the army I can still kick your ass punk

Steve shook his head. He’d missed them. He let out a slow breath, letting his loll against the back of the seat. This felt like the longest day of his life. He wanted a nap so badly. And why not? There was enough room for him to stretch out back here and the drive from LAX to Pasadena would take a while. Steve laid down across the seat, not even caring about the fact that it wasn’t all that safe, and closed his eyes.

Steve felt as if he’d just closed his eyes when someone started nudging his foot and he went from asleep to awake in a second. Pushing up in his elbows he could see Happy leaning in the open door of the limo frowning at him. “Come on, buddy. We’re already late. The boss is gonna have my ass.”

“Boss?” He asked, but Happy had already pulled his head back out and was standing by the open door, waiting for Steve to get out presumably. He shoved his phone, that had fallen onto the floor back in his duffle and slid out of the vehicle.

And froze.

“Where the hell are we?” His eyes scanned his surroundings. This was not Pasadena. This was not Nat and Bucky’s house.

Happy was still frowning at him. “The studio. Come on. Pepper and the makeup and wardrobe guys are waiting over on lot B.”

“I think there might be some kind of…” Steve started, but trailed off when Happy set off at a brisk pace, weaving through the crowd of people. Steve shut the door of the limo since Happy hadn’t and it seemed like he should then set off after Happy before he lost him and maybe his only hope of finding out what was happening.

“This is not the guy,” a red haired woman said to Happy for the fourth time, pointing at Steve, talking about him but not too him. That had been happening a lot since he followed Happy onto the lot.

“Pepper, he said his name was Rogers.”

“Ian Rogers, Happy. You were supposed to pick up Ian Rogers not—” ‘Pepper’ broke off and looked at Steve. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Steve Rogers, ma’am.”

“Right.” She paused for a moment, staring at him, but shook her head and went back to her conversation with Happy. “Not Steve Rogers. You need to go pick up the right guy. He’s still at the airport. His agent just called me, because Ian called him, and I don’t like getting yelled at for things I wasn’t aware were a problem.”

“But traffic is going to be murder,” Happy attempted to complain, but Pepper cut him off in a business-like manner that would have made some of his drills sargeants proud.

“I don’t care about the traffic.” She pulled something out of the folder she was carrying and handed it to Happy. “This is him. Please, go pick him up.” The words made it sound as if Happy had a choice in the manner, but her tone left no room for arguments. Happy looked at the picture Pepper had handed him (Steve took a peek and the only thing he shared with this guy was a last name) and slunk off. Steve felt a little bad for him. It hadn’t been completely Happy's fault, but Steve was a little too tired to work up full blown concern that the guy had to battle LA traffic again.

“Now,” Pepper said, pulling Steve’s focus pack to her. “Mr. Rogers, I’d like to apologize for this mix up.”

“It’s alright, ma’am. If I could just get a ride home, that would be great, though.”

“If you don’t mind waiting a bit longer I can have Happy give you a ride when he gets back,” Pepper said, and Steve did mind a little because he wanted to go home (to Nat and Bucky’s home where he was staying for the time being anyway), carb load on fettuccine Alfredo and garlic bread and then sleep for a week.

He was trying to think of a polite way to tell her he would just get a cab when someone behind him said, “Why is Happy leaving again?”

“Oh, Tony, there you are.” Pepper looked off to a point past Steve’s shoulder and he turned to see who she was talking to. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of crazy looking sneakers that made Steve blink. They were bright orange hi-tops that looked like they had paint splatter all over them. His hair was gelled into one of those purposely messy styles that Steve could never pull off, but this guy made look both like he just rolled out of bed and right off a runway, and his goatee was precisely trimmed.

He should have looked like he was trying too hard, but he didn’t. The look fit him somehow and the fact that he was one of the most gorgeous men Steve had seen in a while didn’t hurt. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell wasn’t a thing anymore, but Steve still hadn’t spread it around that he was bi-sexual. And except for a brief fling with a British soldier he’d met in Afghanistan that ended when his deployment did, Steve had dated anyone since.m, if you could consider what he’d had with Peggy ‘dating.’

He hadn’t slept with anyone since either and that had been… more years than he cared to admit. Steve blamed that for the overblown reaction to the man in front of him.

“Sorry, I’m late, hun,” this Tony guy said, kissing Pepper’s cheek when she walked over to him. “Traffic from Malibu was crazy.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing all about the traffic today,” Pepper said with a sigh. “But there was a mix up. Happy picked up the wrong person at the airport.”

“What?” Tony’s gaze landed on Steve and he pulled his sunglasses off, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. The weight of his dark eyes only rested on Steve for a moment, but it was enough for him to still feel them when he turned away. “How did that happen?”

“Same last name. Tony, meet Steve Rogers.” Pepper gestured to Steve with one hand. Tony was looking at him again and Steve cleared his throat.

“Huh,” Tony murmured. He gave Steve a quick once over and pivoted back to Pepper. “Maybe we could—”

“No,” she interrupted. “Ian has a contract, Tony.”

“Ah, well.” Tony shrugged, tossing Steve a crooked smile. “Had to try. You would have been perfect.”

“I—thank you,” he stuttered. “Where am I? No one has told me.”

“I’ve had plenty of days like that,” Tony told him in a conspiratorial tone. Steve stares at him blankly. “Anyway. Welcome to Stark Pictures. Sorry about this whole mess. We’re usually more professional.”

“It’s… fine.”

“I’m sure.” Tony didn’t sound convinced and Steve really didn’t want to try and convince him. The other man clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, why don’t I drive you home. Where do’ya live?”

“Tony,” Pepper started, but Tony ignored her.

“Glendale? Burbank? What’s that one place from that one show?” He snaps his fingers a couple times, looking at Pepper expectantly.

“That’s not helpful,” is all she says.

It doesn’t seem to matter because Tony turns back to Steve. “West Covina. That’s it.”

“Pasadena.”

“Really? You don’t look like someone who’d live in Pasadena.”

Steve doesn’t know what that means. “I’m staying with friends.”

“Ah. Well, grab your stuff. I’ll take you home.”

“Tony, you should stay—”

“Pep, my favorite producer, light of my life, person who allows me to function.” He gripped her shoulders. Steve was really trying to figure out their relationship. “Happy isn’t going to be back anytime soon unless he runs all the red lights between here and LAX. Plus, you don’t need me here. I was just stopping by to stand around a look pretty.”

“Yeah, but Tony—”

“I’m just the owner of the studio, Pepper. You make the real magic happen,” he said, walking away backwards. “Come on, Steve.”

Steve’s desire to go home won out over anything else. “It was nice to meet you,” he tells Pepper, picking up god duffle from where he’d dropped it and double timing to catch up with Tony who was already halfway to the back entrance where he’s walked in.

When they made it outside, Steve stopped in his tracks because damn, this man had a nice car. Attractive, owned a movie studio, and he had great taste in cars? “Is that a—”

“Nineteen sixty-five Shelby Cobra? Yes, it is.” He popped the trunk and Steve stowed his duffle. “Did the restoration on this baby myself.”

“She’s beautiful,” Steve lightly ran his hand along the trim. Bucky was going to be so jealous.

“Thank you.” Something in Tony’s voice had Steve’s eyes popping up. He found Tony watching him. “This might sound a little crazy…”

“Yeah?”

“But did you want to get some dinner?”

“I’d love to,” he found himself saying before he could really think about it.

“Perfect. What are you in the mood for?”

“Honestly?” Steve and Tony climbed into the car. “I’d kill for a burger right now.” Coming almost directly off his last deployment, he hadn’t had a decent one in months.

“You’re in luck, I know where to get the best burgers in Hollywood.”

Tony started the car and drove out of the lot, the car purring. Apparently Tony’s hair hadn’t been styled that way; it was from driving with the top down. Steve could get used to this.

#stony bingo #cap-ironman bingo fill #stony #stevetony #stony fic #ao3 fic

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half-bakedboy · 3 years

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everything that i want (but didn't think i'd find)

Chapter Five

Rated: Teen Warnings: None Summary: Combat medic, Izzy, worked side by side with her pilot brother, Alec, to ensure the safety of the country and the most important people in their lives; their family.

Alec was starting a family with Magnus—a man Izzy never imagined her brother ending up with—and when the opportunity for them to get married on short notice during Izzy and Alec's summer block leave, Izzy couldn't have been happier for them. Izzy and Alec would make their way home to celebrate the momentous occasion and Izzy could leave everything behind without a second thought like she had when she was eighteen.

Falling in love with Magnus' sister, Clary, was never part of her plan and that threw her off kilter.

Izzy had never been much for hiking. It wasn’t until she finally convinced one of her ex-boyfriends to take her out instead of only toss her around the bedroom that she was first convinced to climb up a mountain. Meliorn had promised that the view would be worth it and it really was. When he told her that he was moving to some far-off forest town, she wasn’t surprised but couldn’t hold back her sadness about it.

She took the hike a few times without him when she needed to clear her head or just take a breath, and it became a happy place for her. She had never anticipated showing anyone the spot, choosing to keep it to herself when she truly needed to step away from everything around her, but she knew that Clary would love it and she wanted to make some good memories at the place that meant so much to her. Those facts alone had them packing their bags for the trip bright and early.

Clary had offered to make lunch and Izzy didn’t think she could argue as Clary had already started taking out ingredients to make sandwiches and snacks so Izzy preoccupied herself with drinks and water. She chose some fruity alcohol-filled seltzer that tasted dangerously of carbonated water and then made sure to fill two giant water bottles for the trek. It wasn’t that long, but the day was supposed to be hot and humid and Izzy wasn’t about to risk dehydration or exposure. She had treated enough of those illnesses over in Afghanistan.

After they had driven to the parking area, Izzy and Clary strapped their backpacks and coolers over their shoulders and started to make their way up the trail. When Izzy expected some complaints about the walking, all she got was Clary stopping to take pictures and to pick up cool rocks to keep only for Izzy to remind her that she would have to keep carrying them up and back down the mountain. Clary would pout and set them down, but then she’d be onto the next beautiful photograph like nothing ever bothered her.

Izzy thought her heart might burst out of her chest and knew it was absolutely the right decision to bring her to the spot she had protected so closely for so long. She also thought that her brother and his fiancé would be very proud of her for taking this step in letting Clary in even if it was a little selfish. Even if Izzy never showed her the final place, the climb up the mountain would have increased Izzy’s love for the spot in itself.

“Are we almost there?” Clary asked, stopping to take a few gulps of her water bottle. She had a small pout on her lips still from Izzy telling her to toss aside another beautiful looking stone and Izzy could tell the heat was starting to get to her.

“Yeah, it’s right through these woods,” Izzy instructed, pointing at a tree she had marked when she first had trouble finding the way. Clary gave her a skeptical look.

“You want to guide me off of the clearly marked trail and through the woods into a place I don’t know?” Clary asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Well, when you say it like that ,” Izzy complained, pulling aside a thick tree branch and beckoning Clary forward. “I promise I’m not going to kill you and leave you for the mountain lions. Our brothers would kill me in retaliation and you know it,” she challenged.

“There’s mountain lions?!” Clary shouted, throwing her hand over her mouth when she realized how loud she had said it. She lowered her voice to a whisper and continued, “You didn’t tell me there were mountain lions!”

“Babe, we’re in the middle of the forest. Did you think there were no wild animals?”

“I’m from a city and have only lived in cities, Iz. Wild animals aren’t exactly the first things on my mind ever,” Clary argued.

Even through her complaints, she followed Izzy closely, resting a hand on her backpack to make sure Izzy didn’t stray too far in front of her. It was only a short distance to the view and Izzy could feel her heartbeat quicken in anticipation. She hadn’t been to what she considered her spot since her first deployment

“I can practically feel you shaking,” Clary giggled, walking a little faster so she was at Izzy’s side. “I didn’t realize how much this place meant to you.”

“It’s just… important. I don’t really know how to explain it. And it’s so beautiful, Clary, you’ll see!” Izzy said excitedly, grabbing onto her hand before she could stop herself.

Clary just squeezed it and let Izzy guide her, both of them smiling widely through their huffs of breath as they quickened their pace. Izzy saw the marker she had left at the clearing and heard the faintest sounds of water in the distance. She used her free hand to swat at Clary’s arm in excitement.

“It’s just up here. Are you ready?” She asked, grinning when Clary nodded enthusiastically and gripped her hand tighter.

“I am beyond ready!” Clary returned, sprinting forward to keep Izzy’s pace.

They pushed aside the tree branches and the crash of the water flowing off of the stone was like music to Izzy’s ears. She pulled Clary to the small cliff face and turned her toward the water, laughing brightly when the water splashed up in rainbow colors mixed with white foam. The stream flowed as far as Izzy could see, bending around and into the forest.

The view was just as beautiful as the last time she was there, only made more so by Clary’s presence. The sun was radiating off of Clary’s bright red hair like a halo and her smile shined just as bright. She was taking photos in each and every direction like she wanted to remember it forever and Izzy knew the feeling. She pulled out her own phone and snapped one just as Clary turned, her eyes practically closed at how wide she was grinning.

She wanted to keep that one forever.

“So, tell me about this place,” Clary said once she tore her eyes away from the waterfall. She plopped herself onto a rock and stared up at Izzy, waiting patiently for the story.

“An ex brought me here a few years ago actually. I, uh, wasn’t quite sure if I would ever come back after he left, but this place was too beautiful not to. Whenever I needed some time away or just wanted to escape everything going on in my life, I would come here. It’s just…”

“Heaven,” Clary offered with a smile. Izzy nodded and glanced around before leaning her head back and letting the sun hit her face. “What did you learn from Meliorn?” Clary asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Magnus has always taught me that relationships are a constant learning experience. Even if they don’t work out, there are things you learn from them. He learned from Camille—”

“She who must not be named,” Izzy chimed in with a scoff and a gag.

“Yes, her,” Clary giggled. “He learned from Camille that you can only give so much to someone before they start taking and giving nothing back.” She sounded sad so Izzy reached out and grabbed her hand, uncaring that the gesture itself was on the edge of romantic.

“I learned from Meliorn that if someone wants to leave, they’re going to leave no matter how much you want them to stay and that maybe it really is best to let them go.”

“He must have been a fool to leave you,” Clary said easily. She brought their entwined hands to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckles on the back of Izzy’s hand, keeping eye contact with Izzy like she wanted to make sure a blush rose on her cheeks.

It absolutely did no matter how hard Izzy tried to stop it.

“And what about you? Did you learn anything important in your last relationship?” Izzy asked, resisting the urge to tug her hand away.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship, if I’m honest,” Clary admitted. She glanced away from Izzy as if ashamed of that fact but Izzy found nothing for her to be worried about.

“I’m sure that’s not for lack of interest. You are so beautiful, Clary,” Izzy said. Clary let out a huff and it looked like she was about to argue so Izzy stepped closer. “You are talented and kindhearted and so absolutely stunning. I can’t imagine looking at you and not wanting to at least take you on a date.”

“Now you’re just stealing my lines,” Clary muttered. There was no annoyance in her voice, just a mixture of amusement and bashfulness that had Izzy’s smile widening.

“We’re both pretty people, what can I say?” Clary laughed and swatted at Izzy’s arm gently.

“If I knew you were going to be so terrible at flirting, I would have never started,” she teased, winking at Izzy dramatically. Izzy threw her head back in laughter as she gestured over at the water.

“I bet my swimming skills would make up for it. Wanna head in?”

Izzy walked to the cliffside and peered down just to be sure there was nothing in her way. She turned back to Clary and pulled off her shirt, tossing it to the side before tugging her pants down and off her legs. She noticed the way Clary’s eyes never left her body and smiled to herself as she stood back up.

She knew she looked good. She tended to veer toward the girliest swimsuits and the bikini she had chosen for that day was a bright pink color with enough ruffles to put Elton John to shame. It was the bathing suit she felt the most confident in and judging by the way Clary’s eyes widened once she was fully unwrapped, it was a good choice.

Before she could say the teasing words she wanted to, Clary pulled off the dress she was wearing to reveal a bright red bikini that rivaled the color of her hair. Izzy gulped audibly and had to remind herself to look back up at Clary’s face after a few moments had passed. When she did, Clary was staring over at her with a smirk on her lips.

“See? Pretty people,” Izzy said with a wiggle of her eyebrows, clearing her throat to try to push away how much she wanted to see Clary naked.

“So, how exactly do we—Izzy!”

Before she could finish her question, Izzy jumped off the cliff and landed feet first in the water. The coolness of it was only a small shock to her body and she pushed off the sandy bottom floor to surge upward before the current could take her too far. Once she broke the surface, she glanced up to see Clary leaning over the cliff, a worried look on her face.

“Your turn!” Izzy shouted after making her way over to the rocks by the waterfall. She could barely hear Clary’s response but she assumed it was a complaint or some worry so she gestured up to her ear and yelled, “Can’t hear you! Guess you gotta come down!”

“I hate you!”

“Ready? One… two… three!”

As Izzy shouted the last number, Clary shrieked and launched herself off of the cliff. Izzy clapped and cheered as she waited for Clary to resurface, kicking her feet in the water. After a few seconds, she started to worry, but then something grabbed her foot and pulled her off of the rock. She knew immediately it was a hand and squealed as she pushed herself off of the rock. Clary’s laughter was the first thing she heard when her red hair finally burst from the water. Izzy splashed her playfully and grinned widely at the sound.

“I can’t believe you made me jump from there. That was terrifying ,” Clary complained as she hoisted herself onto a rock.

“I’ve jumped out of an airplane. A ten-foot cliff is nothing,” Izzy retorted. She slid onto the rock next to Clary, reaching out her hand underneath the waterfall and letting the water bounce off of it easily. It fell in a rainbow mist that always made Izzy’s heart happy.

“So, what do you do out here?” Clary asked, kicking her feet into the water a few times. “Besides relax and completely free your mind of any stress and worry?”

Izzy laughed, “Yeah, that’s about it.” She glanced around, leaning back on her hands as she took in the sights around her, Clary included. “I think a lot. My brother and I have that in common, actually.”

“I noticed,” Clary said softly, but not unkindly. “You hide it a lot better than he does, though. He wears all of his emotions right on his face, no matter what they are, while you are more… guarded.”

“I wasn’t always like that,” Izzy said before she could stop herself.

It was too late to turn back, though, because Clary was staring at her like she was about to spout the secret of the universe and it made her skin tingle—although she convinced herself it was just the chill of the wind blowing around them.

“Alec protected me as long as he could; from my mother’s comments and expectations, from my father’s unhappiness, even from his own constant worry and the way he hid from the world. It wasn’t until I stumbled into the house during one of their infamous arguments about my future that I realized I was being protected.

After that, I guarded myself as much as I could. From friends, from family, from partners, from anyone who had a chance to be in my life. I looked up to my mother so much and if I had to guess, I didn’t want the chance to be let down by someone who meant the same to me.”

“What about Alec? Jace?” Clary asked as she reached out to take Izzy’s hand in hers. She rubbed her thumb on the damp, cool skin of Izzy’s fingers, but the touch warmed something inside of Izzy she couldn’t quite explain.

“I was always waiting for them to let me down. They haven’t—thank the angel—but it was what I was waiting for. I’m still waiting for it, honestly,” Izzy admitted. The words were just as much of a surprise to her as they were to Clary.

“Alec wouldn’t ever,” she said seriously, squeezing Izzy’s hand tightly.

“I know that, I do, but… I guess I just worry that now that he has Magnus, he won’t need me anymore and he’ll leave just like everyone else has. That’ll be the biggest letdown of my life and I don’t know if I’d ever be able to recover.”

“Did you know that Alec wrote me when you were overseas?” Clary said suddenly and Izzy furrowed her eyebrows immediately in response.

“He wrote… you?” Izzy clarified. Clary just laughed in return.

“Yeah, I know. The first time I saw that envelope with Alec’s name on it, I thought that it must have been a mistake. I was about to walk to the post office and tell them that they had the wrong person, but… he wrote me. About you.”

“Me?” Izzy asked, her voice suddenly softer than she intended it to be.

“He talked about how he wished that he could prove to you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that he would do anything in the world to make sure you were happy.”

“Why would he tell you that?” Izzy asked, hoping it didn’t sound as rude of a question as it did in her head.

“Because I believed that of Magnus and Magnus believed that of me. He wanted to know how both of us were so confident that no matter what, we were each other’s priorities. And do you wanna know what I told him?” Izzy nodded, scared to speak as she bit down on her lip. “He didn’t have to do anything. He went out of his way to send a letter to a different country, to his fiancé’s sister that he doesn’t even really like—”

“That’s—”

“At the time,” Clary corrected easily. “He was willing to do literally anything to make sure that you knew how much he loved you and that even though things were changing, that nothing would change between you and him.”

Izzy went to interrupt again, but Clary reached up to press her finger against Izzy’s lips. She froze and watched Clary’s eyes intensely as she stroked the skin of Izzy’s cheek gently, delicately, as if she might break at the touch.

“He told me all about you; how you were kind to everyone you met even though you had no reason to be, how you were the most headstrong and confident woman he ever had the pleasure of knowing. How he wanted to protect you but realized that you were more than capable of holding your own against anyone in your life. He told me you were beautiful and deserved to be treated like the most precious gem a person could find.

The Lightwoods might be the most guarded people I’ve ever met, but he’s the most vulnerable when it comes to you, Isabelle. He cares about you just as much as he cares about Magnus and he’s not going anywhere—and neither are we.”

Izzy gulped and looked away from Clary’s eyes. She heard the double meaning in Clary’s voice as clear as day. She was committing to Izzy with just a simple word. She wasn’t staying out of obligation, she was staying because, for some reason, Izzy meant something to her. She was trying to prove to Izzy that no matter what was spiraling around her mind when Clary looked at her, Clary wasn’t going to be another person to leave, another person for her to learn a lesson from.

Clary wasn’t going anywhere.

“I— Why me?” Izzy whispered.

Clary smiled at her and pushed a strand of soaking wet hair behind her ear before cupping Izzy’s cheek in her hand and stroking her thumb underneath Izzy’s eye. Izzy let them close, letting herself feel everything for the first time. She could hear the water crashing beside her and the birds chirping in the trees surrounding them. She could feel the skin of Clary’s thigh underneath her fingertips and wondered when she had started to hold onto her so tightly in the first place.

She let her heart skip that one little beat and her stomach tied in knots when Clary leaned forward, her breath ghosting across Izzy’s lips when she was close enough. Her lungs stopped their steady rise and fall and her mind was numbed by the scent of lavender that always seemed to follow Clary around. She felt her skin warm from either the sun shining down on them or the blaze of heat that burst through her as Clary spoke.

“Because I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you with each letter your brother wrote me and meeting you changed the entire course of my life, Isabelle Lightwood.”

How was Izzy supposed to resist kissing her after that?

Slowly, Izzy rested her forehead against Clary’s, their noses brushing as they tilted their heads just enough for their lips to— finally —press together. It was as if every single piece of the puzzle made up of Izzy’s life slotted into place when they kissed. Clary tasted like nothing and everything all at once, the most perfect mixture of happiness and relaxation Izzy could ever hope to find. The world around her didn’t matter anymore because she could finally pull Clary closer and feel her warm body and—

The moment was broken the second Izzy attempted to move closer. She was so lost in Clary that she forgot about the rocks they had settled on and both of them went tumbling into the chilly water. Izzy’s nose burned and she sputtered as she broke above the surface, coughing to clear her lungs of the water she had inhaled. She could hear Clary laughing brightly and obnoxiously and she noticed that their hands still somehow connected as Clary pulled her back up underneath the flow of the waterfall.

“As far as first kisses go, I can’t say I won’t remember that one,” Clary noted with an adorable scrunch of her nose. She still looked beautiful even drenched in water because the light was shining through the steady fall and making her glow like the angel Izzy knew her to be.

“If I kiss you again, can we count that one as our first?” Izzy asked as she reached out to hold Clary’s face in her hands.

“We’ll have a lot of firsts, Izzy. I’m not too worried,” Clary said before she leaned in again.

That time, Izzy stayed above water and it felt like she was floating. Her head spun with every lick of Clary’s tongue against her lips, in her mouth, and every stroke of her soft hands against Izzy’s chilled skin. She warmed from the inside out when Clary held onto her shoulder, brushing her thumb against the pulse point in her neck only to dip her head and nip at it lightly.

She had never felt so surrounded by anyone in her life. She didn’t care about the view, the waterfall crashing around them, the sun rising higher and higher in the sky, not when Clary nudged her nose against her neck and angled their lips together again. Nothing else existed except for the way Clary made her feel and the soft moan that bubbled from Clary’s throat when Izzy threaded her fingers through her hair had her believing that Clary felt the same.

Izzy could have kissed her forever, underneath the rainbow mist with the sun radiating warmth and happiness through her, but Clary pulled away, biting down on her lip and taking a deep breath. There was a smile on her face and her cheeks and lips were red. She looked thoroughly kissed and Izzy thought she could have seen Clary look like that a million more times in her life and it would never be enough.

“Does this mean I can flirt with you without you getting mad at me now?” Clary asked, stroking a finger down Izzy’s nose.

“That’s the only question you have?” Izzy asked with a laugh.

“I have about a thousand, but I figured we’d get there eventually,” Clary shrugged. Before Izzy could respond, she bounded into the water, resurfacing a few feet away near the rocks to climb but up to the cliff. “Right now, I want to draw you. Can I do that?” She asked.

Izzy nodded and followed her because it was increasingly obvious that she would follow Clary just about anywhere.

#etiw #chapter five

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just-word-vomit · 6 years

Text

4/28

Do you ever feel like you just need to spit it out; say everything that you’ve never had the guts to throw out on the table? For me, that opportunity has come and gone. I was too weak, too scared that someone would call me a bitch. Today, I realized I am a bitch. I’m a bitch when it comes to my own feelings. Why are my emotions on the back burner? Every day I’m alone in my own head and I’m screaming. Before, it was easy to put the blame on sparing the feelings of everyone around me, but now I’m drowning. My head is spinning. If it wasn’t too late, this is what I would say:

You fucked me up. If I could even begin to imagine the pain of getting my heart physically ripped out of my chest, that would be the equivalency of how you made me feel. You knew that I was so in love with you. I would follow you anywhere, but you’d never follow me. I made excuses for you, I defended you when everyone tried to tell me that you were no good. The funny thing is, I wouldn’t change a thing. You taught me so much about myself. I had no confidence when I met you. Your interest in me and the attention you gave me proliferated a false sense of confidence that only existed when you were around. You beat me down mentally. I thought that I would never survive without you but here I am. After you left, I was on my own. I started working out more to get away from the world, I kept working (even harder than before); killing myself with hours, and I finished my spring semester of college with a full course load. These are all things I thought I needed you around to support me for. I made it on my own and I’ve never been more genuinely proud of myself. I did everything you told me I would never be able to do. So thank you for being my motivation. I wanted to prove you wrong. At first I wanted to do it out of spite, to show you want you missed out on, but now I am my own motivation. I’m stronger, confident in my abilities and my appearance, and I make a conscious effort to brighten the days of the people around me. You took me on a ride for a long time. The most fucked up thing is that I still miss you. I loved talking politics with you, watching sports, cooking, and just being the one to take care of you. I miss running my hands through your curly hair and watching Grey’s Anatomy together every night. I still haven’t accepted that I’ll never be that person for you anymore, but it gets better every day.

Thinking about you makes me skin crawl. I will never understand why you did what you did. None of it makes sense no matter how many fucking ways I try to decipher it. I thought I made it clear in the beginning that I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but you took it there. Did you feel bad for me? Or were you just bored? Spending that summer with you was the freest that I ever felt. You were my escape from everything that was still hanging off my back from my past relationship. I wanted to throw it all away just to be with you. The day I left, I knew that the end was coming but you just couldn’t be honest with me. What the hell was the point in dragging it all out? Was it your guilt that made you set up that scavenger hunt for me? Was it your conscience that made you tell me that you loved me when you handed me that bouquet of flowers on the beach? I guess I’ll never know because to you, my sanity wasn’t worth your time. You used the military as an excuse to break up with me (going to Afghanistan my ass). Did you really think I was that God damn stupid? After you blocked me, all I could do is wonder what I did to deserve that shit. You made me question my character, my core. Was I that shitty of a person that you would have to lie to me like that? The reality of the situation is that you’re the insecure one. Physical companionship trumps honesty and integrity in your mind. Now that I know that, I understand you. I made a mistake trusting someone like you, someone that could just kick me to the curb without blinking an eye. I felt guilty hoping that your current relationship failed, but when it took a dive for real, I laughed. I hope you feel a quarter of the pain you put me through. I don’t regret you, but I do resent you. You’re a coward- just like the rest. All I can say to summarize my distain for you is that I hope you regret it, and if you don’t, you’re just as dumb as I’ve come to realize that you are.

I’m hurting. I want to tell you so badly how much my heart has fallen apart since I left. I feel like I don’t even remember what its like to live life with you anymore. I’m honestly getting scared; my mind is swimming. I know that I love you, but I can’t grasp that feeling and make it touch my heart. I know that you love me, but I can’t feel the sincerity of your words through my phone. I’m stuck between wanting to run away and wanting to come home. I feel like you’re feeling this too, but you won’t tell me. In fact, I feel like there is a lot you don’t tell me. I think back to that Shoprite parking lot, when we first spent time together. Why was everything so easy? I felt like we were so open with each other. I’m supposed to be the one you run to, but instead I feel like you just bottle everything up in an attempt to keep the peace. I need you to be the person you were when we first met. You are my person. I can’t wait to see you. I need to see you. I love you with all of my heart and I know that; I feel that in my soul. I can’t wait to to wrapped up in your arms where I belong; where I can feel your love swallow me. I love you.

#writing #journal #feels #breakup #past #vent

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itsmajel · 6 years

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Majel Reads - September2017

[What is this?]

Supernatural - Destiel

Hell on Earth Verse by grey2510, ThayerKerbasy

Summary Verse: Crowley had always had a plan. Even when he lost, he won. And when he died, he made sure his affairs were in order and that the one person he liked trusted tolerated inherited his most valuable and prized possessions.

Dean wasn't sure he'd ever forgive the bastard.

Juliet couldn't believe she'd been stuck with a blind pup for a new master.

- - - - -

Summary First Story: I, Crowley, known in life as Fergus Roderick MacLeod, being of sound mind, body, and demonized soul, declare that this is my last will and testament. I hereby revoke, annul, and cancel all wills and codicils previously made by me, either jointly or severally. I declare that I am of legal age, and have been since before my lawyer's grandfather was conceived. This last will expresses my wishes without undue influence or duress, even — or, indeed, particularly — when said wishes are contrary to those of anyone who ever wanted anything from me. I hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint the demon Timothy Hubbard as Executor. If this Executor is unable or unwilling to serve, then I appoint the demon Harold Newman as alternate Executor. My Executor is empowered to settle any and all debts on my behalf, excluding soul contracts. I hereby bequeath...

[Teen And Up Audiences ] [ 38,138 Words ] [4 Works] [Read on AO3 here]

What Happened In Vegas by Ltleflrt

Long time friends Dean and Castiel are road tripping from Chicago to San Diego for Sam and Eileen’s wedding, and a pitstop in Las Vegas turns into drunken love confessions and a surprise marriage. Turns out the pining has been mutual this whole time, but now they’re finally together and on cloud-fucking-nine. Until they remember that this trip isn’t supposed to be about them.

To avoid undermining Sam and Eileen’s important weekend, they decide to keep their new relationship status a secret. They’ll keep the heart eyes toned down and their hands to themselves, but the struggle is real.

[Explicit] [ 18,447 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

My Liege Lord by jhoom

From a young age, Castiel has been groomed to serve as Dean’s personal bodyguard. They’re inseparable as children and good friends as adolescents. When Dean ascends to the throne, though, there’s a subtle shift in their relationship. If only Castiel knew what to make of it…

[Explicit] [ 70,525 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

I'm the Only by Desirae

Dean cleared his throat. “It’s just, if she did something really bad, maybe Charlie didn’t tell me for a reason. Like, say you cheated on me. If there was the slightest chance I was going to forgive you, I probably wouldn’t tell Charlie about it because I wouldn’t want to taint her image of you.”

“Woah, wait. You think about me cheating on you?” The outraged tone of Cas’ voice had Dean wanting to backtrack fast.

“No, no you’re missing the point. I am just saying IF you cheated on me-”

“If I cheated on you? If I cheated on my husband whom I have loved since high school, who I am utterly devoted to?” Cas’ face had pinkened in his ire and Dean wished he had kept his mouth shut.

When Professor Winchester makes an offhand remark on the way to his sexy husband's tattoo convention, it sends them both on a trip down memory lane, back to High School, where popular goth, Castiel, made it his mission to win the heart of quiet, bookworm Dean. A story of blooming first love that grew into forever.

[Explicit] [ 25,121 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Captain America / Marvel CMU - Stucky

The North Star by littleblackfox

“I heard rumour that William Fly is swinging from a gibbet in Boston harbour. They say the age of piracy is ending,” Steve utters softly, rubbing the tip of his thumb across his lower lip. Sam glances at him. “You got plans to retire, Cap? Find a nice little beach in the Indies and a good supply of rum? Couple of pretty girls in grass skirts to dance for you.” “Sam,” Steve mumbles, covering his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, a couple of pretty boys?” Sam grins wickedly. “Sam!” Steve looks scandalised, which gets him nothing but laughter from his Quartermaster. “You’re fired. Go throw yourself overboard this instant.”

[Explicit] [61,335 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

the cold never bothered me anyway by icoulddothisallday

Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au)

[Explicit] [ 75,562 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

penis for password by obsessivereader, talkplaylove, wearing_tearing

Bucky's had his wifi name since forever, courtesy of his friend Clint thinking he’s funny as shit, and he's pretty much forgotten about it—until he hears the enthusiastic shout of 'PENIS!' through the walls from his new next door neighbor.

[Mature] [ 1,557 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Death Doesn't Discriminate (Between the Sinners and the Saints) by sangha

James Buchanan Barnes died four years ago, while deployed to Afghanistan. An IED blew up his convoy, his left arm in pieces, his life ended. Eleven months later, his lungs filled with stale air. He was in a wooden box. He had never been this hungry. Somehow he clawed his way through the wooden lid, through dirt and sand. He didn't seem to need to breathe at all. All he knew was hunger.

Now, four years later, Bucky is just trying to make a life for himself, when he meets Steve and he is forced to decide how Steve is going to fit into this new life.

[Mature] [ 57,045 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

The Northern Lights by ThisChairIsMyHomeNow

“I can’t feel my face,” Steve shivers.

“I can’t feel my left arm,” Bucky says, deadpan. Steve barks out a laugh. It’s all white puffs of vapor in the chilly air.

“This the spot?”

“Nah,” Bucky pants, breath ragged from the long ascent up a mountain. “Almost there.”

[Mature] [ 21,754 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

to feel your skin on mine by obsessivereader

“Hey Buck, what's wrong?”

Bucky grimaces as he sits down next to Steve. “It aches sometimes,” he says, as he rotates his left arm.

Steve puts down the report he’s reading. “I could massage it for you? I had a physiotherapist after I came out of the ice. The massage really helped when I overdid things while getting back into condition.”

“You?” Bucky pauses mid-rotation, a look of patent disbelief on his face. “Overdo things? Say it ain’t so.”

“Very funny.” He tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding. “You want that massage or what.”

[Explicit] [ 2,484 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 2,111 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

maybe bi guy by obsessivereader

Steve: i saw that guy again. i think i’m not as straight as i thought i was Unknown number: i hate to tell you this but you got the wrong number pal. but hey, i’m bi. i’ve been there. i can talk you through it if you want --- Or Steve embarks on a journey of self-discovery assisted by a helpful stranger who likes to make really bad puns

[Mature] [ 3,338 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Lessons In Chemistry by Brenda

Bucky Barnes is having a rough senior year of college: his girlfriend of two years just dumped him for being too boring, he's drowning in lab work and classes and assignments, sleep and free time are a distant memory, and all his friends seem to want to talk about is how he needs to out of his comfort zone.

But then his old high school buddy, Steve Rogers, drops back into his life, and suddenly classwork and studying and getting into a great grad school are the last things on his mind.

[Explicit] [ 42,388 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Dare to Dance: Leave Shame at Home by MarleyMortis

Having suffered an accident that left him with anterograde amnesia and an incomplete spinal cord injury, Bucky Barnes is determined to live his life to the fullest and meet the challenges of daily life head-on.

Steve Rogers, marine biologist and a retired Space Airman who led a squadron of F40 Avengers to save New York from an alien invasion, isn’t sure how to move past war until he meets the vivacious Bucky. He’s eager for a second date. Trouble is, his date doesn’t seem to remember him.

[Explicit] [ 86,660 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

Summer Don't Own Me No More by alby_mangroves, Nonymos

Bucky Barnes, weary soldier, illegal immigrant, sarcastic sex worker. Steve Rogers, miracle of science, lonely man, disillusioned cop. Both of them on a collision course in this brave new world, like that's not gonna end in sex and explosions.

[Explicit] [ 28,349 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

The Hobbit - Bagginshield - Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

It's a braid thing (you wouldn't understand) by authoressjean

After the last near "tragedy" (or so the dwarves are calling it, Bilbo's about done with them), Bilbo doesn't cut his hair and instead lets it go long. Except now, now he's almost home, his dwarves insisting on escorting him back, and he's got long hair he doesn't know what to do with.

When Thorin offers to braid his hair, Bilbo reluctantly agrees, if just to have something to remember the dwarf by.

Except it doesn't do Thorin any favors. Bilbo was already attractive enough, and now there are braids. In his hair.

And if Fili and Kili don't stop snickering, Thorin's content to return to Erebor without his heirs.

Prompt fic. One-shot. Sort of.

[Explicit] [ 6,102 Words ] [Read on AO3 here]

slow dancing in a burning room by fideliant

don't you think we ought to know by now? don't you think we should have learned somehow? don't you think we ought to know by now? don't you think we should have learned somehow?

[Explicit] [ 18,806 Words ] [2 Works] [Read on AO3 here]

- - - - - - - - -

(All summaries are the official summaries of the author. Stats and infos as according to hosting site or information given by the author)

Looking for more reading inspiration? Check out my fic rec tag here on tumblr, my reading list masterpost or just check out my AO3 bookmarks.

#fic rec #majels reads #reading list #september #2017 #supernatural #destiel #Marvel CMU #captain america #stucky #the hobbit #bagginshield

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illuminating-dragons · 7 years

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By Any Name (11/11): Home

Chapter Summary: In a moment of quiet between one storm and the next, Sherlock and John take stock.

Read it on AO3

About an hour later, after several celebratory cheers and one surprise kiss between Greg and Mycroft, the others began to drift out, Lestrade to fill out paperwork, Mrs. Hudson to get to sleep (“it’s important to keep to some kind of schedule, loves!”) and Mycroft to do whatever creeper government agent older brothers did. John took his case upstairs, marveling at how every creak still sounded familiar, sounded right, even a year later.

He unpacked his clothes slowly, shocked that they looked so normal in the dim light of his lamp. They were the only clothes he’d worn in a year, a year across three continents, two dozen countries and countless cities…they were plain but they were still instantly recognizable…the shirt from the ‘trial run’ in Paris, the trousers neatly patched from the stab wound in Brussels…his Professor outfit and his P.A. socks…

John looked down at the pile of clothing on his bed. He should really start putting things away, but these clothes didn’t belong in his drawers. These were the clothes of other men, disguises though they might be, and they weren’t going to be put with his clothes, the ones he’d missed.

He moved the pile to the floor and pulled on his favourite jumper. The smell of tea and smoke and home that still clung to it after a year shocked him, but he was very glad. It was really starting to hit him; they were back, and back for good. The Web was shredded, the snipers taken out…their family was safe.

John knew he should go to bed—it was past one now—but he wasn’t quite sleepy enough. A cup of tea would help that, although that was assuming they had any tea left at all. Mrs. Hudson had gone out quite briefly earlier, though, so there was a chance that whatever was in their cupboard was not a year old.

John put on some slippers and walked downstairs carefully. He hadn’t wanted to wake anybody, but he immediately saw that it wouldn’t be a problem.

Sherlock stood next to the broken window, looking down at Baker Street. He was in pajamas, but he clearly hadn’t been resting. His eyes were unfocused. John wondered what he was really looking at.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Sherlock nodded. Still sort of here, then. Not in his mind palace, at least not deeply.

John didn’t speak as he prepared the tea, absentmindedly touching each of their mugs, remembering why Sherlock had bought each one of them. Most of them were replacements after experiments gone wrong or burglars (Sherlock let them in occasionally and made them run into a disturbingly creative assortment of traps, some of them involving shards of china). They were all different except for two pale blue mugs that John had bought right after he’d moved into Baker Street. It was a tradition he’d kept up faithfully his whole life—new place, new mug. These two were on sale, and John had broken his Afghanistan mugs after he returned, so he thought he could justify buying two.

Now that he thought about it, it was odd that these two had survived.

He took them down, washed them and poured in the boiling water, adding tea bags. He brought one in to Sherlock, who took it without speaking.

For a few moments they stood there, Sherlock leaning against the window sill, John with his hip against Sherlock’s chair. John breathed in the cool summer London air, letting his thoughts wander as he sipped his tea.

“Does it feel strange to you?” Sherlock asked.

“Being home?” John clarified. At Sherlock’s nod, he thought about it. “I…not exactly. It feels stranger to be out of disguise.” He’d never gotten used to the scratchy wigs and itchy facial hair, and was relieved to have shaved off the mustache for the last time.

Sherlock looked at him carefully. “Nothing else?”

“Not running for our lives is a nice change.”

Sherlock’s lips quirked. “Thought you liked danger.”

“Not all the time.” John paused. “What’s going on with you?”

A year ago, Sherlock might not have answered. Now he stared down into his cup of tea, and John just waited.

“I was thinking, last night, about how we’ve been…different to each other.”

John raised his eyebrows. “You mean with the disguises?”

“Obviously.” Still impatient as ever. “You must have felt it too, at some point. I know we set out as friends, but what are we now? Who—who am I, to you?”

The fact that he’d said that much told John how terrified Sherlock was. They’d both wanted to get home, to get back to their mad version of normal, but whether or not they liked it John knew there was more to be acknowledged before they did.

Trying to find an answer for Sherlock, he too examined his mug. This one of two, mugs that had been left in peace by their crazy lives, never broken, not even scratched.

And then he realized what had changed. And more importantly, what had stayed the same.

“I think you’re my Sherlock,” John said quietly. “And I’m your John, and I think we’ve been that way since the beginning and haven’t realized because we were both afraid of something we didn’t want.”

“I’m not in love with you,” Sherlock blurted out.

“And I’m not in love with you,” John replied calmly. “But you know what? I’d be okay with that if that’s what you wanted, and I’m okay that you don’t want it. I will be whatever you need me to be, because I know you’ll do the same.”

Sherlock considered him carefully, then reached out his hand. John took it, letting long fingers close around his. “I will.” He tugged carefully and John stepped forward, leaning his head against the detective’s shoulder.

“What do we tell people?” Sherlock asked.

“What do they need to know that they already don’t?” John replied. “You’re my best friend still, always have been, and that’s as good a label as any.”

Sherlock thought for a minute. “So I suppose we’re stuck with each other.”

John laughed. “Damn right.” He looked up at Sherlock. “It’s rather nice to belong to someone. I haven’t in a long time.”

“With someone,” Sherlock corrected. “You’re not a possession, John. Don’t do impressions of idiots.” His hand tightened. “Although I do know what you mean.”

They stood in silence for a minute.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“The Chinese place is still open.”

“Let’s go then,” John said with a smile. He let go of Sherlock’s hand and stepped away, placing his mug on the table and reaching for his coat. Sherlock put his mug down next to John’s and followed him down the stairs, only a step behind.

The next day there’d be paperwork and visits and maybe new cases, and they might not speak of what they’d just promised—they might never do so again. But they didn’t really have to, John thought as they walked up the street together. They knew, and by any name people called them—flatmates, friends, lovers, partners—they belonged with each other.

The End

#sherlock fanfiction #john and sherlock #sherlock season 2 AU #acme146 fanfiction #crosspost #friendship fic #By Any Name

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hellomissmabel · 7 years

Text

The death and life of James B. Barnes (3)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: One curse word? Maybe?

Word count: 1.655

Summary: Bucky survived, but Steve did not. He messed up with Y/N, but maybe he can start over again? Based on 40′s Bucky and Steve. Third part of the @hunters-from-stark-tower movie challenge!

Part 1: the sailing competition

Part 2: the accident

The funeral is small and sober. Steve touched a lot of people’s lives and almost the entire town attended his funeral that morning. Y/N is there as well, holding Bucky’s hand as he tries to stay strong, picking up the pieces Steve left behind. His mother is absolutely devastated, never parting ways with her handkerchief. She didn’t go outside the house for a solid two weeks until Bucky was finally cleared to be released from the hospital. Y/N had to take care of the funeral arrangements all by herself because Bucky’s severe injuries kept him bed-ridden for an entire month and his mother had been swallowed by her solitary confinement.

The priest motions for Bucky to say something and he feels the weight of Y/N’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly in an attempt to let him know it’s okay not to be okay. Bucky was supposed to give a speech but now he’s confronted with reality, he just cannot bring himself to it, muttering an excuse me to his mother before fleeing the graveyard and rushing towards the woods.

Y/N gives his mother an apologetic nod before following in his footsteps, shouting his names through the fresh air of Mother nature, the trees welcoming her form with the scent of pinecones and morning dew on the wet grass. “Bucky, where are you?,” she screams into the void but there’s no reply.

Bucky’s on his knees, begging the heavens to give him his brother back but it’s of no use. His suit is soaked to the bone but he does not give a single damn, his mind set on bringing his brother back even though it’s impossible. Steve’s dead and not even Y/N can fix that.

“Bucky?,” a small voice sounds through the needles of the trees surrounding Bucky. “Bucky?”, the boy tries again and upon his third attempt, Bucky’s mind has caught up to what’s happening and his eyes widen in shock, his breath stuck in his throat as he tries to process how the fuck he lost his sanity this quick, what kind of sick mind games are being played and why on earth he’s being confronted with the spirit of a boy that looks disgustingly familiar, the spitting image of Steve.

“Bucky, it’s really me. I don’t know how it’s possible or if you can even see me, but I want you to know I’m here. I will always be here, just like I promised you.”

“Steve?” Bucky’s eyes start to overflow with morose tears, his blurry vision diminishing his ability to think straight and before he knows it, he’s lunging at his younger brother and wrapping him into a tight embrace. “Steve,” he breathes out in a long, content breath. “Steve.”

10 years later

Getting up at 6 a.m., making coffee and eating cereal for breakfast. Taking the car to the cemetery, scaring off some geese and looking after the graves. Catching up with Clint, eating lunch and talking about Sam and how the war overseas is going. This is Bucky’s routine and every day it’s the same. 5 p.m. on the dot he meets up with Steve in the woods, playing catch whilst talking about the good ol’ days.

You see, that day in the woods when he encountered the ghost of his deceased brother Steve, he learnt that by some divine intervention it is possible for him to communicate with not only the spirit of Steve but other souls as well. He keeps in touch with the medic that saved his life and meets up with Brue on the regular although lately their visits have been cut short because of Bruce’s cancer. It’s worsening day by day and Bucky feels for this man, he feels so helpless and wants to return the favour, help him ease the pain but Bruce insists that this is not what he’s meant for. Bucky is part of a much bigger picture and Bruce only plays a very small role in it.

At 5 p.m. sharp, Bucky and Steve are reunited and as Bucky shares his experiences with Steve, their bond only grows steadier. Bucky is dependent on moments like these and unbeknownst to him, they also keep Steve from moving on to a better place.

“So, are you going to go to Clint and Natasha’s wedding anniversary party or not?,” Steve asks Bucky as he throws the ball back to him, Bucky swiftly catching it with one hand and mimicking Steve who clumsily grasps the ball in his two hands.

Bucky shrugs, throwing the ball far out of Steve’s reach because he’s not really paying attention anymore, Steve’s question catching him off guard. “I don’t know. People don’t like me, Steve, so I don’t go out much.”

“Maybe you will see Y/N,” Steve interjects, “You told me you heard she’s back for a while, training for her tour around the world, right?”

“I don’t think she wants to see me, Stevie.”

Y/N begged Bucky to let her in, give her some insight in that messed-up mind of his but being the headstrong ass Bucky Barnes is, he did not heed to her request and ignored her pleas until she finally gave up. She had been contacted by Tony Stark who was mesmerized by her potential and lobbying to sign her as his trainee. Only she didn’t sign right away because she loves Bucky more than she loves sailing, she put it off for as long as she could until Bucky grew too distant and her signature was only one sigh away.

Time is not a band-aid when it comes down to Y/N and a pregnant pause divides the two brothers. “I haven’t seen her in 7 years, Steve. She’s been practicing her skills with that Stark guy, she doesn’t need my guidance anymore. We were a good team for as long as it lasted, but she wasn’t you.”

“I saw Sam the other day,” Bucky suddenly announces and Steve’s face falls immediately, knowing very well what that meant for his old friend. “Bomb explosion. There were no survivors. He got a medal for his bravery.”

As soon as the boys graduated from high school, Sam enlisted in the army. He and Madison got married that summer before he was shipped off to Afghanistan. “He asked me to look after Madison and the twins for him.”

“I am so sorry, Buck.”

Bucky looks away, listening to his heartbeat pounding in his ears. If Y/N will be there too, which he knows she will since Nat would never let her live it down if she didn’t, he might get a second chance. Truth be told, she’s the only person besides Steve that’s always on his mind. “He also said I shouldn’t waste any more time,” Bucky shrugs.

Steve’s shoulders slump at Bucky’s gloomy tone. “Maybe you should take Clint up on his offer, Buck. You miss her and I hate seeing you like this. You used to be so full of life, Bucky, and I know that what happened to me, to us has had a major impact on your life.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky’s eyes lock with Steve’s and with a small nod of his head, he lets his brother know it’s alright to live a little, even if it’s just for one night. Bucky dragged Y/N in the middle of his self-absorbing pity and that’s why she left. Tonight might be the perfect opportunity to do right by her.

The party is crowded, almost too crowded for Bucky’s liking. Everybody seems to recognise him which does not surprise him anymore since he’s considered the town fool. Clint spots him almost right off the bat and offers him a drink, introducing Bucky to a couple friends from back in the day. Clint and Natasha have been dating for as long as Bucky can remember and when Clint has asked Nat to marry him, he gave up his archery career to pursue the white picket fence life. Unfortunately the same year they exchanged their vows, Clint had been taken very ill and he almost lost all his hearing and eyesight because of it. Natasha left the sailing business to take care of him and now she’s a teacher at the local high school and Clint works with Bucky at the cemetery.

“You are never going to guess who’s here,” Clint mischievously whispers into Bucky’s ear. He doesn’t have to think long because a few seconds later his eyes fall on the familiar silhouette that makes his heart stop dead in its tracks.

Y/N is having a conversation with Natasha, talking about how they should make up for lost time and how happy Nat is to finally be reunited with her childhood best friend and former sailing partner. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” she declares loudly, looking across the room until she locks eyes with Clint and he gives her a thumbs up. Their plan is working.

“Nat, Tony is expecting me home at a respectable hour,” Y/N sighs at the foolishness of her friend. Nat of all people should know how demanding Tony can be, after all she used to train with him as well.

“You will want to meet him, trust me,” she assures her best friend, taking Y/N by her shoulders and turning her into the right direction.

It’s then that it dawns on her, that tousled mop of chestnut hair and those captivating baby blues. She’s staring into Bucky’s eyes. “Nat, what have you done?”

“Just a fair warning, Y/N,” Natasha cautions, “He hasn’t moved on. But that doesn’t mean you have to avoid each other the entire night. You owe me big time, Y/N.”

Y/N is not quite sure if she’s talking about their less than amicable break-up or Steve’s death, although none of that matters when Bucky starts making his way over to her, encouraged by a friendly push from Clint. Y/N doesn’t need more incentive than that.

Part 4: the first meeting

Tagging: the ever-wonderful @beccaanne814-blog @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise@unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @winterboobaer @shamvictoria11 @thedragonblood @hymnofthevalkyries @feelmyroarrrr @justareader

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royalnightoutphff · 7 years

Text

Chapter Twenty

Gunshots in the south were not uncommon. Lexy had grown up hearing them. The little boys across from her house had all gotten shotguns for Christmas one year. There seemed to always be some kind of bird they could shoot. But Lexy had certainly not wanted Harry to be around that.

“It was my fault, babe,” Harry told her later when they were lying on her bed. He was running his hand through her hair, her head on his chest. Levi was asleep a couple feet away from them, having refused to go to sleep by himself after all the noise. “Mitch and Max should’ve been better hidden.”

“Normal people’s fathers don’t threaten to shoot people.”

Harry snorted. “I know you’re not trying to talk to me about having normal fathers. No one got hurt. That’s all that matters.”

“But they could have!” Lexy moaned.

After her father had made his declaration, he’d pointed a beer bottle at Mitch, which apparently to Max, in the dark, had looked like a gun. So Max had done what he was taught to do and shot it up in the sky. No one had been hurt.

Lexy’s father didn’t even own a gun. He stumbled up the stairs, ignoring his daughter, and fell into his bed. It was now nearing five in the morning and Lexy still couldn’t drift off to sleep, her anxiety still at an all-time high. She suspected Harry was the opposite, due to his almost constant yawns. But he was being stubborn and had refused to fall asleep until she did, no matter how many times she told him he could.

“Yes,” Harry yawned again. “But if you live your life living in the what could have happened, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“It’s just not—“

“If you say the word normal one more time, I’m going to get on a flight right now. Like an emergency one. I’ll have someone deliver me a helicopter to your front lawn. And I’ll never talk to you ever again.” Apparently, when Harry didn’t have sleep, he was delirious. “Yeah, your family isn’t exactly normal. But mine is definitely not normal. So stop trying to use that as an excuse.”

Lexy sighed in defeat and snuggled into him. She just wanted to stay in that position forever. Lexy only wished that the day’s happenings hadn’t happened. She still had to worry about whatever was going on with Sara and the kids. Not to mention, she would surely have to face her father, who was more than likely going to be hungover the next day.

Her father hadn’t even noticed Harry who was hanging around. She’d have to explain that one, too. Sometimes Lexy wished she’d been born into a different family. Then she glanced at Levi at the end of her bed and knew there was a reason she had been born into the Marks family.

She drifted off to sleep then, listening to the alternating sounds of Harry’s breathing and Levi’s, and trying to stay somewhere in between. She knew she’d be woken nearly as soon as the sun came up by Levi.

But when Lexy did wake up, she woke up to a completely empty bed.

She rolled over, confused and lit up on her phone, seeing some texts from Nicole and some CNN updates among other things. Then, she saw that it was a little after noon and sat straight up, confused as to not only why she’d slept in, but also as to where the other two that she’d been sharing the bed with had gone.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up, before throwing her blanket on the floor and walking out of the room and into the bathroom. She could faintly hear talking coming from the kitchen but continued on her journey. While in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and fixed her hair into a somewhat normal state before washing her face and then leaving.

And when she did finally see who was in the kitchen, she came to a complete halt.

Levi was rolling one of his toy cars all the way across the kitchen floor. But sitting at the table in his pajama pants and a white t-shirt, was none other than Papa Marks. His hair was as black as Lexy’s but with streaks of gray, streaks that Lexy thought had increased in the eight months since she’d seen him. He was clean-shaven, though, and he looked a lot better than he had the night before.

Harry was standing at the stove, also in a white t-shirt. He flipped whatever was in the frying pan into a plate and sat in front of Lexy’s father. “Yeah, I find that eggs are a super-food for the headache. I only usually eat them then.”

Lexy was confused, but not for long, as Levi caught sight of her and came running over to her. Both of the men looked up and saw her.

Harry broke out into an immediate smile as Lexy picked up the baby. But Lexy only had eyes for her father. Finally, after what seemed like a decade to Lexy, his face relaxed and he too broke out in a smile.

“It’s good to see you, Lexy-Loo,” he used her childhood nickname. She hadn’t heard it in years. “Why didn’t you tell me when you got back?”

Lexy frowned, even more confused as his behavior as she stepped forward, holding Levy closer to her. “I told you when my flight was getting in. I thought you had somewhere to be.”

He shook his head and took the fork Harry had given him. “I must’ve mixed up the dates then. How’s my baby doing? And why didn’t you tell me you were dating this fine young man?”

Lexy’s eyes flickered to Harry and he gave her a reassuring smile. Lexy took another step forward and before she knew it, she was sitting down at the small table across from her father, cradling Levi and trying to keep him away from everything until he wanted to be set down.

“I’m good. And I didn’t tell Sara either. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? He’s your first boyfriend! And already better than that son of a bitch husband Sara’s got herself.”

Lexy wished that when she closed her eyes in that moment, she could just disappear and be back at Princeton. She was starting to wish she had never come home, and certainly not brought Harry with her. But when she opened her eyes again, only a moment had passed, and Harry was handing her a plate with scrambled eggs on it. He’d garnished it with two slices of toast.

“And what would you like to drink?” he asked her, smiling down at her.

“Are you serving me in my own house now?”

Harry shrugged. “You’ve only got milk and the juice for Levi, but I suppose I could talk Mitch or Max into running and getting you a coffee if you’d like.”

Lexy shook her head, though her heart warmed at Harry’s offer. “Starbucks is all the way across town. I’ll just take water.”

“How are your grades, Lexy? Are you making straight As?” her father said as he watched Harry set the glass of water in front of her.

Lexy had passed the point of explaining to her dad what life in university was like. He’d never understand. So she settled for nodding her head and pretending like that was true, even though the grade on her last essay for her education seminar said otherwise.

“And what are you doing this summer? You’re coming back home, right?”

Lexy was still torn for what she should do over the summer. She hadn’t been applying to as many internships as she should have and decisions were already coming out for most of her friends. Ana was going to Cuba, and Nicole was going somewhere in Los Angeles. She still hadn’t talked to Carrie but she was sure she was doing something with her time too.

But she most certainly did not want to come home again.

“Actually, Mr. Marks,” Harry said, sitting down with his own plate of eggs on the other side of Lexy. “I was just about to mention that before Lexy woke up.”

Her father turned to look at Harry. Lexy did too, wondering what on earth he was about to tell him, and also why he hadn’t told her any of the sort yet.

“My family has a good bit of connections in England, where I’m from, and I’ve talked with one of my father’s friends and he thinks he can secure an internship for Lexy. She’d have to stay in London, of course, but I have a house there she’d be more than welcome at.”

Lexy’s father looked at Lexy. “Aren’t you about tired of England, yet? And those damn brits?”

“No.”

Her father leaned back in his chair and made a face of disappointment. “I guess you can go, then. You know what your mother would think about you staying with a guy before being married though, right? She wouldn’t like it. She’d be disappointed in you, Lexy.”

Lexy felt like a bag of bricks hit her stomach and set down the fork she was using.

She began to chant in her head. I do not hate my father. I do not hate my father. I do not hate my father.

Lexy wanted to tell him that he had no idea how her mother would really feel, and that he didn’t deserve to have an opinion, especially after how he’d treated her for the years of their marriage. But she’d rather have it inside her head than at the table for Harry to hear, so she picked her fork up again and began to finish the food he’d cooked.

“So Harry, you said you were in the military? Where did you serve?”

“In Afghanistan, sir. Two tours.”

“I have a lot of respect for you. I never did serve in the army but I wanted to. My brother was in the navy and it seemed to be the ultimate way to upset him.”

“Thank you. I also have an older brother. He went to university so I went into the military. School wasn’t really my talent, you could say.”

“Mine either,” her father waved a hand. “All you really need is to find a woman who knows what she’s doing. And my girl’s smart. Smartest person in this whole damn town. She’s the only one who’s ever left.”

Lexy face burned but gave away nothing. She looked down at her plate, wishing more than anything that she hadn’t put her hair in a bun.

“She definitely is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Makes me wish I went to university just so I could keep up with her.”

Lexy’s father laughed like Harry had said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He finished the last bit of his eggs before speaking again. She wished they could have escaped his attempt at the father intimidation talk. Even Lexy could do a better job than he was.

“She used to correct her momma’s grammar all the time. Drove her crazy. But I have to say, we never thought she’d find someone who could even attempt to keep up with her, so hats off to you.”

Lexy swallowed and stood up, scraping the rest of her food into the trash and putting her plate in the sink. “I need to wash clothes,” she declared, swinging Levi up and taking him to her room. She really hoped that Harry would understand that she needed to be alone and wouldn’t come for a while.

Lexy realized after standing at her door that he probably wouldn’t, so she took her towel into the bathroom with Levi and decided to have a nice long shower instead. Harry couldn’t talk to her then, the door would be locked and the water would be too loud. She even put on her music to make it louder, blaring her “ayyyy” playlist as loud as it would go.

And her shower was a nice as it could be with a two-year-old walking back and forth in the tub as she tried to work her way through the knots in her hair. Lexy had never understood how people were able to have great thoughts in the shower. The water was warm though, and she was happy she was about to be clean again.

Finally, she wrapped a towel around her and another around Levi and heading back into her room, the water dripping from her hair all over her towel.

Harry was seated at her desk, scrolling through his phone. “You know you’re not a disappointment to your mum, right?” Harry asked her the moment her door was closed.

“I know,” Lexy murmured, setting Levi on the floor. He immediately ran to her bookshelf, sifting through Lexy’s many books, and shedding his towel. Lexy would’ve laughed but she just felt like she was in a different world, her head elsewhere. “How come you didn’t wake me up this morning?”

She moved to sift through her suitcase, pulling out a t-shirt and some shorts, not really in the mood to wear anything else. She was looking for her underwear when Harry spoke.

“You needed the sleep. I just gave him some juice and he went back to sleep. Then he woke up and played with his cars some.”

“And did my dad say anything to you?”

“Not really,” he said, watching her carefully. “He woke up and had an awful headache, probably from his hangover, so I made him some food.”

“You just decided to cook my dad breakfast?” She asked, finding the rest of her clothes and holding it in one hand, looking at him.

Harry shrugged. “Being hungover isn’t fun. So I did what I could to help him out.”

Lexy felt angry and she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like Harry should have known to not to do anything for her father. But she was still mad that he had, whether it was irrational or not. So she didn’t say a word to him as she headed back to the bathroom and put on her clothes, running some gel through her hair and started her music up again.

She carefully walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, feeling relieved that her father wasn’t there and grabbing her glass of water. When she made it back to her room, Harry was throwing a bowl to Levi.

Lexy simply looked away from him and fell onto her bed, scrolling through her phone and replying to all the texts from Nicole. Then she moved on to Instagram, only liking a few photos, before switching to Facebook.

She read through the usual complaining statuses, liked all the pictures of babies that appeared on her feed, and read a few news articles. Then, she decided she was no longer mad at Harry and looked up at him.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

Harry met her eyes and threw the ball back to Levi. “Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, alright. Let me find some jeans and give Mitch and Max a five-minute warning.”

Lexy nodded, going back to her phone as Harry moved around her room. She contemplated whether or not she should get Levi dressed before deciding that she could just drop him off at Sara’s. He wasn’t her responsibility, after all.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked a few minutes later, coming back into her room dressed in a plain navy colored t-shirt and jeans.

Lexy nodded and swung Levi up into her arms. Once they were in Harry’s car, she only spoke to tell him where to turn to get to Sara’s house.

Sara’s house was just around the corner from hers, on another dirt road. It was smaller than her small house, even with the three kids, and they had two dogs. Lexy told Harry she’d be right back and dropped Levi off, not even bothering to say anything to Sara.

Once she was back in the car and Harry was backing up, Max and Mitch right behind him, Harry spoke up.

“Tell me how to get where ever you want to go.”

Lexy was silent for a while, letting Harry look over at her before he pulled out of the driveway. “Is it okay if we just drive for a while? I can give you gas money.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Shall I just drive till we feel like stopping?”

Lexy nodded, and Harry handed her the aux cord, to which she put on Coldplay and let Harry go where ever the road took him.

They didn’t speak. Not after they reached the city limits of her town, not after they reached the city limits of Nashville, and not even after it had been a full two hours in the car with no words passing between them. They’d listened to two full Coldplay albums in their entirety.

“So,” Harry said as he navigated through a busy intersection. “Are you hungry?”

It was nearing four PM and while Lexy thought it was an odd time to eat dinner, she also realized she was hungry, so she nodded. “Let’s get chicken?”

Harry pulled into the closest KFC to them and ordered a whole bucket of chicken for the two to share between them. Lexy didn’t even bother to offer to pay, knowing that Harry would refuse it anyway. Harry turned back around and started heading back in the direction of her town.

“Thank you,” Lexy finally told him after three songs played. “For the chicken and for driving.”

Harry looked over at her briefly. “Just remember, you’ll perpetually owe me for this. Especially the fucking chicken.”

Lexy smiled but looked out the window, declining to say anything else. Once they made it on the interstate and had been there for a while, she relaxed enough to ask him the question that she’d been wondering since her father had said his statement.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

Harry looked over at her but she was still looking out the window, watching passing cars and waiting for the sun to set.

“Uh, I was sixteen. It was in the basement of my father’s residence. Her name was Vicky, and she was blonde, and that’s about all I remember.”

“Did you like it?”

“At the time, yeah. But it was nothing compared to future experiences, that’s for sure.”

“What’s been your best experience?”

Harry looked over at her, sharply that time. She was finally looking at him. “Should we really be talking about this?”

Lexy shrugged. “Why not?”

Harry sighed and went around a car in front of them, adjusting the volume of the music with the control of the steering wheel. “Probably my first real girlfriend, Chelsy, I guess. She was my first love. But truthfully the sex was so good because the relationship was so good. There’s nothing like sex with someone you have an emotional connection with.”

Lexy nodded, taking the words in and glancing back out the window. “Why did you guys break up?”

She was only asking because she was curious, but Harry seemed to take the question in an opposite direction. “I know you haven’t had much experience with relationships, but are you sure you want to talk about this?”

Lexy huffed. “I’m only asking because I wanted to know more about your life.”

“Well, Chelsy and I dated for a long time, on and off. It was seven years, in the end. But we were both immature when we met and over the years just sort of grew apart. That, and the press was unbelievably hard on her. I’ve learned how to navigate it better myself since then. But we’ll always be good friends and I think we both realize that what happened was best for both of us.”

Lexy nodded. “That’s a solid story.” She herself was proud of the way she was feeling about the situation. But she was sure part of that had to do with the security she had—after all, Harry was in a car with her and her alone. Then, she asked her second question. “Do you think I’m weird for not having sex yet?”

“Not at all,” Harry answered, so quickly she was sure he wasn’t lying. “My grandmother was a year older than you when she lost hers, and that’s my grandmother.”

“Harry, your grandmother is the Queen of England.”

“I don’t know why you always feel the need to tell me these things, as if I don’t already know them.” He gave her a look. “But anyway, you’re going to do what’s right for Lexy, and you shouldn��t worry about other people and what they’re doing.”

“So you’re not going to break up with me because we don’t have sex soon?”

“I thought we’d left this worry when we left Princeton.” He sped past another car. “But no, Lexy, I will never break up with you because we haven’t had sex. For the record, I don’t see us breaking up any time soon, but you would have to do something incredibly horrific for me to decide that. Like, you’d have to murder someone, or sell my secrets to the Daily Mail. It would never be because we haven’t had sex. I can promise you that.”

Lexy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I’m sorry. My dad was right today. My mom would be disappointed. She’d think I was having sex with you even with you just staying in my bedroom.”

“Didn’t I tell you about how my mum would be disappointed in the things I did when I was younger? I make mistakes every day, babe, and sometimes, for mere moments when I make those mistakes, I’m grateful my mum isn’t here so I don’t have to tell her about them.”

“Do you think I’m making a mistake then?”

“God no,” Harry laughed. “I think we live in a completely different society than our parents, and that they can’t judge us anymore than we can judge them. But furthermore, I just want you to know, that when we do have sex, it will be natural. You won’t be worrying because you’ll be ready for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, babe.”

Lexy went back to staring out of the window, sitting cross-legged in the seat. The sun was about to set, and she felt relaxed again.

“I really like it when you call me babe. I wish I had a name for you.”

“Well, I sort of like it when you call my Haz. No one else does.”

“Sounds good, Haz.” She said, grinning at him.

Harry grinned back. “Sounds good,” he echoed.

And for the hour and a half remaining until they reached Lexy’s house again, they went back to their silence, both thinking, both listening to the music, both completely comfortable in the other’s company.

It left Lexy wondering if the remaining days of the trip were going to be as stressful.

#prince harry #princeharryfanfiction #prince harry fanfiction #phff #princeharryfanfic

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fortytworedvines · 7 years

Text

Come fly the friendly skies

The Cabin Pressure/Holby City crossover that literally nobody one person asked for. It’s four years since Martin left for Swiss Air and a year since Serena came back from her sabbatical. What could possibly bring this eclectic group of characters together?

Carolyn is sitting in her portacabin poring over the calendar when the phone rings.

“OJS Air, Carolyn Shipwright speaking. How can I help you?” She nods, checks the calendar and makes a noise of assent. Grabbing her notepad she starts scribbling down details, a smile growing on her face.

“Well that all seems straightforward enough,” she says finally, “We’ll see you then, Ms Campbell.” She hangs up, leans back in her seat with an unusual grin on her face; is still smiling when Herc comes in.

“Hello darling,” he says, then spots her expression, “What’s come over you?”

“Catch,” Carolyn throws the notebook at him. He scans her notes quickly and then chuckles, “Come over all romantic in your old age have you?”

“I’ve warned you about using that word,” she replies.

“What, old?”

“Romantic,” she snorts.

It’s a warm summer’s afternoon and Bernie is climbing into Serena’s car with only a hint of trepidation. “I really wish you’d tell me what you’ve got planned,” she says plaintively. “But then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Serena points out. “Just a hint?” Bernie pleads but Serena grins and shakes her head.

Serena keeps the chat general as she drives to their destination. Work and family - and she can talk about family now, Eleanor’s death will always be with her, a constant ache, but it’s no longer overwhelming.

“Nearly there,” she says, eventually.

“Fitton,” says Bernie, spotting a road sign, “What on earth is in Fitton?” Her confusion only grows as Serena pulls into the airfield and pulls up next to a small portacabin.

“Surprise!” says Serena, gesturing across the tarmac to a small jet aeroplane.

“You’ve...bought a plane?”

“A little out of my price league darling. A private flight, actually.”

“Oh,” Bernie breathes, “How lovely.”

An older lady strides out of the portacabin. “Ms Campbell?” she says and Serena shakes her hand.

“Good to meet you again Ms Ship-”

Carolyn cuts her off, “Call me Carolyn, please. Follow me and we’ll get you settled on GERTI.”

“ ‘Again’?” hisses Bernie softly, “When did you meet her before?”

“When I was on sabbatical,” Serena replies, “I got stranded and, well… long story short her company rescued me. Naturally when I was thinking of a fun surprise for you I thought of her.”

They’re at the plane by this point and climbing up the short staircase that Bernie is trying very hard not to notice is quite rickety. Carolyn smiles at her expression, “Don’t worry, she’s perfectly airworthy. Better than she used to be even, now we’ve removed several miles of gold wiring from her.”

“Gold wiring?” stutters Bernie, absolutely certain that she’s lost the plot somewhere along the line.

Another woman, a younger one, is waiting on board. Bernie absolutely does not notice that she’s quite attractive, with striking features and a friendly smile. Maybe a decade younger than Bernie and Serena and wearing her age elegantly.

“I’m Theresa,” she says with a pleasant accent that Bernie thinks may be German, “I’ll be your cabin crew today.” Then she turns to Carolyn, “Don’t worry Carolyn, I’ve got it from here. Go and enjoy your date,” she winks and Carolyn blushes.

“It’s not a date, we’re just going to be… in the same place...” She coughs slightly. “Enjoy your flight ladies,” and bustles off.

Theresa settles Bernie and Serena into their seats, pours them a glass of wine each (Shiraz, naturally) and passes them the safety leaflet. “We’ve got a video too,” she adds, “I’ll just go ask Mart- I mean, the Captain, to play it.” She laughs suddenly and disappears to the back of the plane. The tv screen in the front of the plane crackles into life and a frustrated looking middle aged man appears on it. “Hello,” he says bitterly, and Serena and Bernie exchange a puzzled glance, “My name… is… Douggie.” The look he gives the camera makes them both sputter and by the end of the safety briefing they are both in fits of laughter.

“Good, isn’t it,” says Theresa as she reappears.

“Spectacular,” says Serena with a smile, “But I don’t remember seeing it last time I flew with you. And what’s happened to Arthur?”

“Arthur is the usual cabin attendant,” Theresa explains to Bernie, who was looking puzzled, “He’s babysitting actually. My husband and I are over here on holiday and as Arthur is one of our son’s godparents he decided he’d like to spend some quality time with him. So he’s there and here I am.”

“You’re working on your holiday?” asks Bernie, aghast.

“Trust me,” Theresa replies, “Compared to running around after a toddler all day this is a wonderful break. And it has perks.” She winks unexpectedly and disappears again as the captain’s voice sounds in the cabin.

“Good afternoon ladies and.. uh.. ladies. My name is Captain Crieff and I will be flying you this evening to uh...” there’s a pause and a murmur, “That is, I will be flying you. On your trip. This evening. Joining me in the flight deck is Captain Richardson. We do hope you enjoy your flight.”

It’s a beautiful summer evening as GERTI takes off.

Bernie is sitting in the window seat, fingers interlaced through Serena’s staring at the ground as it falls away beneath them. She turns to her partner, tears glistening in her eyes and smiles. “This is amazing, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Serena breathes and ghosts a kiss next to Bernie’s mouth. “I wanted to do something special for you, to say thank you.” She holds Bernie’s gaze, “You were there for me even when I was pushing you away, you were there for me even when I was the other side of the world. And this past year I know – it’s been tough sometimes, but it’s also been the most wonderful year. So, thank you.”

Bernie chokes a little, then smiles, brushes her thumb over Serena’s. “You’re more than worth it,” she says gently.

“It’s symbolic,” Serena says after they’ve gazed at each other silently for a few beats, “This trip. It’s exactly a year since I came back, and now we’re flying together.”

Bernie leans in and kisses her.

Martin is in control and Douglas is stretched out in his seat, relaxed.

“So do you reckon Theresa’s going to tell them?”

“No, I don’t think so. She won’t want to make them feel awkward.”

“I think she should, right as they leave. It would be the icing on the cake, so to speak. Up to her though, I suppose. Anyway, it’s nice to have you back.”

“Even nice to be back in the First Officer’s seat?” Martin jokes.

“Yes,” says Douglas, firmly enough that Martin stares at him.

“Oh you know, much harder to tease Herc.”

“And?”

“He makes me do most of the paperwork,” says Douglas, so mournfully that Martin laughs, “Apparently it’s only fair because I have the bigger salary. And of course Carolyn is always on his side.”

“Well I’m glad to relieve you of the burden, even if it is only for a week.”

“Doesn’t Theresa mind you spending your holiday working for OJS?”

“Not really. It’s only a couple of flights, and Arthur is so keen to look after Douggie that it really does feel like a proper break.”

Douglas winces. “I still can’t believe you called the poor boy that.”

“Don’t you think Douglas is a bit long for a two year old? Douggie is much better while he’s little.”

“I can’t believe you named him after me at all.”

“Well, you are his godfather.”

“So’s Arthur!”

“True. But he looked more like a Douglas.”

“He looked like a potato! A squished, red potato!… Oh… I, Martin I didn’t mean that, he was a very handsome baby...”

Martin laughs, “I thought much the same thing but for heaven’s sake don’t tell Theresa.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” “Deal.”

There’s silence in the flight deck for a little while, then Douglas says, “I really want to know what’s going to happen. It’s all horribly romantic.”

“Theresa’s going to buzz us. We’ve worked out a code.”

“Of course you have. Now, we’re going to have to time that bit carefully...”

Bernie is pressed up against the window, drinking in the view. She’s flown before of course, countless times, to and from Afghanistan and Iraq. But this, this gentle tour of England at the most beautiful time of year, with just Serena to enjoy it with, is really perfect.

Serena is also staring at the view, but her view is Bernie. Bernie’s messy blonde hair tickling her neck in a way that makes Serena want to brush it off and kiss the skin underneath… She shakes herself from this train of thought. Private though the flight may be, she is still aware that Theresa could walk through at any time… And when she thinks of what is to come she can feel adrenalin pumping through her veins and she has to bite down on her tongue to keep from blurting anything out.

Bernie feels Serena’s gaze and turns to her, smiles. Licks her lips and watches as Serena’s eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips and back again. Leaning forward she kisses her chastely. “I love you,” she murmurs.

Serena is about to respond in kind when they hear a thump from the small cabin at the back. They exchange startled glances when they hear it again and they both instinctively know, medical professionals as they are, that something is wrong. Serena is out of her seat in a flash, Bernie just behind.

Serena tears through the curtain that separates the passenger area from the cabin at the back to see Theresa clutching at her throat, thumping the work surface.

“She’s choking,” Bernie says.

“I can see,” replies Serena tightly but she’s already in action, leaning Theresa forward, hand on the centre of her back and thumping her. Bernie counts for her and when she reaches five Bernie pushes forward, takes Theresa and performs the Heimlich manoeuvre. And they’re lucky. So lucky, as an object flies out of Theresa’s mouth and Theresa gasps and takes a breath. Bernie cradles the woman and lowers her gently to the floor. “You’re okay,” she says reassuringly, “You’ll be fine.”

Serena finds the tap and a glass and gets her a drink of water.

“Thank you,” Theresa rasps and sips delicately. “Sorry.” she adds. Her teeth chatter against the glass as she starts to shake.

Bernie and Serena look at each other. ‘Take her mind off it’, Bernie says silently. They sit on the floor together.

“So, if you’re being Cabin Crew when you’re on holiday, what’s your normal job?” asks Serena.

“Something quite different,” says Theresa faintly.

“Would you tell us about it?” asks Serena, “It’ll help,” she adds.

Theresa puts the glass down and a grin spreads slowly across her face. “Guess,” she says.

“Guess?” asks Serena, taken aback.

“Yes, go on.”

If this will help her forget her panic then, Bernie supposes, they better do it. “Well, you’re obviously used to dealing with people,” she muses, “and you seem to be very professional-”

“Thank you!” Theresa cuts in.

“So… I think… lawyer.”

“Not even close,” Theresa smiles.

“Dustbin woman,” says Serena, completely straight-faced and then laughs at the look on the other two’s faces. “Well if Bernie wasn’t close...”

“The boys play twenty questions sometimes.”

“Okay,” says Serena. “Do you wear a uniform?”

“No.”

“Do you have to deal with members of the public?”

“Very much yes.”

“Do you own a company?”

Theresa laughs and shakes her head.

The intercom buzzes at this point.

“Theresa?”

Theresa stumbles to her feet and pushes the button. “Yes Martin?”

“We’d uh… if you wouldn’t mind we’d um...”

“What Martin is trying to say is: we’re parched and would very much like some coffee. Please.”

“Thank you Douglas! Also we’re getting close-”

“I’ll make you some coffee now,” Theresa cuts in hurriedly, “Be with you shortly.” She turns to the other two, “You’d best go and sit down,” and making sure Bernie can’t see she winks at Serena, “I’d better get busy. You don’t want two caffeine deprived pilots!”

Theresa has been through with the coffee and vanished again when the Captain’s voice sounds.

“Ladies, we’ll be approaching Holby on the right hand side shortly.”

“We’re flying over Holby?” Bernie asks.

“Surprise,” smiles Serena.

The dusk is gathering rapidly and the plane seems to be lowering as they approach the city. Bernie stares as lights twinkle on and turns the ground into a sea of stars.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispers.

Serena leans in to her, pointing out the major roads, the cathedral which is really the only tall landmark in the city.

Then Bernie points, “That must be the hospital, up ahead.”

“Yes,” Serena’s voice catches in her throat as she replies but Bernie doesn’t seem to notice.

The plane lowers again, slightly, and starts to turn.

Serena grips the handrest of her seat so tightly that her fingers turn white.

“Look, it’s just down there!” says Bernie, “Oh the times I’ve spent on that roof!” and then she gasps. Gasps and laughs and stares as hundreds of points of light suddenly appear on that same roof, flickering and glowing and forming a perfect heart.

Bernie turns to Serena and her question disappears into nothing as she sees the tiny box that Serena is holding out.

Serena licks her lips. Her heart is pounding and her mouth is dry.

“Bernie. You’re my wonderful, perfect partner. In theatre and out. You’re my home, the love of my life and I’d like to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. Would you...” her voice cracks, “Would you do me the honour of being my wife?” She flips the box open and takes out the ring. It’s simple, because Bernie isn’t one for flashy things. Just a plain silver band with a sapphire set in it (the colour of Bernie’s scrubs, although that hadn’t occurred to Serena when she’d chosen it).

Bernie is gazing at her like she’s the sun, the moon, the entire universe and for a moment Serena is worried that she might have broken her. Then finally Bernie speaks, soft but certain.

“I would be honoured, Ms Campbell.”

Serena slips the ring gently on her finger and Theresa, who is spying from the galley, buzzes the intercom frantically. She figures Martin will understand. Then, because she has a job to do, she retrieves the champagne which was thankfully stashed out of sight earlier, pops the cork and pours it carefully into two glasses.

She gives them a minute. If she wasn’t so happy with Martin she would be jealous, the way the two of them are looking at each other.

“Champagne?” Theresa hesitates to interrupt but after all Serena had brought the stuff.

Serena tears her gaze away from Bernie to smile up at her. “Thank you,” she says, taking the glasses and passing one to Bernie.

“Congratulations,” Theresa says and then runs away to the flight deck.

“Well?!” demands Douglas as she enters.

“Horribly romantic,” Theresa sighs, “They’re disgustingly in love.” She brushes her fingers along Martin’s shoulders and he twists to shoot her a quick smile before turning his attention back to his instruments.

“Martin...” she pauses and then continues. “I need to tell you something but I also need you not to panic when I tell you, so should I tell you now or later?”

“You’re doing Arthur’s job,” says Douglas, “You’re not supposed to be actually channelling him.”

“Douglas, you have control,” says Martin tightly.

“I have control,” agrees Douglas and Martin twists round worriedly.

“I’d like to pay for their flight,” says Theresa.

“Oh,” says Martin, taken aback, “That’s not very worrying. Why should I panic? Expensive but not that expensive.”

“Because… because they saved my life, earlier.”

“WHAT?!”

“And there’s the panic,” mutters Douglas.

“I was choking. I couldn’t make a noise to call out but somehow they heard and well… between them they got the grape out. So I do owe them.”

Martin is on his feet in a second, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her in close. “You’re okay now?”

“Absolutely fine,” Theresa reassures him. Then she kisses him.

“No hankey pankey on the flight deck!” Douglas cuts in.

“Sorry,” they both reply, but Martin keeps his arms firmly around his wife.

“What’s wrong?” snaps Carolyn over the satcom, “Tosca’s nearly finished!”

“Can you refund Ms Campbell please?” asks Martin.

“Why? What’s happened? Have you broken something? Have you hurt her Have you killed her?”

“Oh, stop panicking,” Douglas sighs, “Theresa seems to be desperate to pay for their trip as a grand gesture. I’m sure she’ll explain later.”

“Oh. Okay then. Will do. Right, I’ve wasted enough time on you, see you later.”

It’s not that long a flight from Holby back to Fitton and Bernie spends it with her arms wrapped around Serena (her fiancee!) whispering in her ear all the things she’d like to do when they get safely home. Serena kisses her – her cheek, her ear, her neck – but it’s not till Bernie reaches the end of her list that she sits back in absolute shock.

“You’ll do that?! For me?!”

“For a week,” replies Bernie, a tad smugly.

And Serena leans back in her seat and imagines it, the bliss – a whole week without having to do any washing up.

They come back to earth with a thud, albeit a small one, and the screech of brakes as GERTI glides to a halt. They unstrap themselves, stretch, smile.

Theresa waits for them by the door, shakes both their hands with a smile.

“Ms Campbell, Serena,” she bites her lip slightly, unused to feeling so uncertain and unsure how to phrase this, “I’d like to pay for your flight. Please.” She adds.

Serena gapes at her. “What, why?”

“Two reasons, one, the main one, being that you both saved my life,” she shivers slightly and Bernie reaches out sympathetically and rubs her arm, “and two, I’d like to for an engagement present to you both.”

“I couldn’t possibly accept,” gasps Serena, “Not for your ears Bernie, but this wasn’t precisely cheap!”

Theresa breaks into a sudden grin. “I believe you had sixteen questions left.”

“Oh, playing twenty questions are you?” Douglas emerges from the cockpit with Martin just behind.

“Hello, love,” Martin slips behind Theresa and wraps his arms around her waist. “What are they guessing?”

“My job,” she replies.

“That’s a tad unfair, Theresa,” Douglas remarks.

Serena is looking from Theresa to Martin. “Hang on, if you’re here on holiday… are you a pilot normally?”

“If you’re asking ‘Is he spending his holiday from flying aeroplanes flying an aeroplane’ then you would precisely right,” drawls Douglas, “Martin is quite special like that,” but his words are toned down by the fond look he gives the other man. “I feel like this could turn into a long evening, so may I cut it short? Ms Campbell, Ms Wolfe, may I present her Serene Highness Princess Theresa Gustafa Bonaventura of Lichtenstein. Otherwise known as Mrs Crieff.”

Theresa beams at him, “You finally remembered my middle names!”

Serena sits down suddenly on the nearest chair. “You’re a princess!”

Bernie laughs, “Oh dear. You’re never going to be able to top this are you! A princess served us wine!”

Theresa smiles at them both, “So you see, although I admit that paying for this trip is quite an extravagant gesture, it’s not absurdly extravagant.”

“Hello?!” calls a voice from outside, “GERTI has been still for a very long time and nobody is getting out. Are you all dead?”

“We’re fine, Carolyn,” Douglas calls back, “We’re coming now.”

They troop down the stairs as a group, and Carolyn says, “Right, pub.” She looks at Bernie and Serena, spies the ring and says “Would you like to join us? Celebrations seem to be in order.”

“I think they may want to celebrate without so many… onlookers,” Douglas points out.

“Would you come to ours tomorrow, if you’re free?” Theresa asks, “We’ve rented a rather nice house in Fitton and everybody’s coming. You can meet Douggie. And my brother Max.” She can see Serena hesitating and says softly, “I still feel that I owe you, and I would like to get to know you better. Both of you.”

Serena looks at Bernie and Bernie nods and grins. Theresa gives them her number and they all smile and wave. It’s just as they’re leaving that something strikes Bernie.

“Theresa?” she calls across, “Your brother Max would be..?”

“King of Lichtenstein, yes. See you tomorrow!”

Bernie and Serena collapse into bed. They’re elated but also exhausted so the kisses stay soft as they tangle their arms and legs together.

“This has been the best day of my life,” Bernie whispers, heartfelt.

“Mine too,” Serena agrees.

“How’d you do the lights on the hospital roof?”

“I confided in Dom and… Ric. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind?! How could I mind? It’s the most wonderful romantic thing anybody has ever done for me. I love you, Serena Campbell.”

“And I love you, Berenice Griselda Wolfe.”

Bernie snorts a laugh and buries her head in Serena’s shoulder. She’s just drifting off when a thought occurs to her.

“Serena?”

“Yes?”

“Did you propose in the middle of a flight so that I couldn’t run away?”

Her only answer is a giggle.

#cabin pressure #holby city #berena #niche market #totally lacking in arthur #sorry about that #@slightlyintimidating #hope you enjoy

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studiomaya · 7 years

Text

Introducing Meg

You know how little kids say whatever they want, whenever they want? They aren’t self conscious. They aren’t worried that the world won’t like them if they mess up.

I spent my elementary school years in and out of school. My parents were pretty careless about pulling me out if they were traveling, and sticking me back in when we got back. They liked to do their South Asian travel during the winter, which allowed them to miss monsoon season, but wasn’t really ideal for my school year. I really don’t think it mattered much, and maybe because I was in public school in New York City, I don’t think anyone at the school cared. I had some math workbooks that my mom picked up at the grocery store, and I did those off and on. I was pretty good at math and it was kind of fun to finish the books. And I read. I read and read and read. So whenever I got back to school and suddenly had to draw a bean plant and name the parts, or had to do long division on the blackboard, it was never a problem. And I was a real talker, so if we had to discuss poetry or a book, you could hardly shut me up.

In sixth grade, everything changed. My parents decided that I needed something more rigorous and that they would be more careful about snatching me out of school to go on long trips to weird places. I still went on some pretty strange trips, but they were a little less scattered, more concentrated during the summer and school vacations. My dad teaches South Asian history at the New School, my mom runs an antique shop, and both of them thought that it would be better for me to have more challenging schoolwork. They have some friends who somehow got me an interview at this fancy school on the upper East Side—not one of the crazy elite schools, but it was still posh, compared to what I was used to. I remember the interview well—I wore these dusty brown Doc Martens and cotton harem pants that I had made myself, and I must have looked a sight! The headmistress was almost like a cartoon character, she was such a type—poofy white hair, pink sweater, pearls—and thought I was hysterical. I found out later that I was getting a big scholarship. I don’t know whether it was because we couldn’t afford it or whether they thought I needed to be rescued from the perils of public school.

The kids were pretty nice but I had a hard time getting to know them. They did soccer together after school, or dance, or music lessons. They all knew each other, and their parents knew each other. My parents were not really in the loop on school, and since everyone lived all over the place, there wasn't a neighborhood you could draw on to meet people. But everyone was well-behaved, polite, and seemed to care about school and grades a lot more than they had at my old school in Greenwich Village. I knew that I wasn’t like them, but it didn’t bother me terribly. I wasn’t like the kids at my old school, either, and it had never caused any problems for me.

But things took a weird turn at some point that first year, when we were supposed to do a research report on a foreign country. It was an oral report, but we also had to put together some sort of illustrated brochure thing to turn in. I was super excited. I mean, this was my life. I had been to so many different countries, I could speak a few different languages, and dinner at home with my parents was all about which tribal motif was embedded in what carpet from which village in Afghanistan. This was my thing and I was so excited to share. And I was excited to hear what everyone else had to say. You didn’t exactly discuss foreign countries when you went out for recess. I don’t think anyone knew much about the stuff that lived in my head. The girls talked about pop music and movie stars, and I was okay with those subjects. The boys talked about sports, which I knew nothing about, but that was okay because anyway the boys and the girls were starting to separate and do their own stuff that year. Everyone knew that my family and I had traveled a lot, but everyone was so polite about it, as if it would be rude to pry. So I was thinking that standing up in front of the class would be my chance to tell everyone about things that were so important to me.

I remember what I wore the day of the presentations. I was doing Pakistan, a country where we had spent a lot of time, so I wore a shalwar kameez, which are these baggy pajama pants and a tunic and a scarf. It’s what girls wear in Pakistan every day—it’s not some kind of dress-up thing or special occasion get-up. When I walked into the classroom, everyone stopped talking and turned to stare. These were all kids that I had been friendly with since the start of school, kids that I ate lunch with and compared notes with during math class. I didn’t think wearing a shalwar kameez was such an earth-shattering thing, but everyone looked amazed. I started to feel a little funny. I heard one guy say to someone, “Is there extra credit for wearing a costume?”

I sat at my desk, flipping through my notes, but I wasn’t thinking about my presentation. I was suddenly thinking about the last time I had worn that shalwar kameez, running around the gardens of Shalimar in Lahore, surrounded by cascading fountains and apricot trees. I had a friend in Lahore, a much younger girl named Rihana, the daughter of one of the caretakers at the house where we usually stayed. I was always put in charge of Rihana so I had to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, like fall into a fountain or slip and break her neck on the wet marble. She talked a mile a minute in Urdu with an adorable lisp, switching into accented baby English when I complained that she was going too fast for me to catch everything she said. I had not seen her in a couple of years and I wondered what she was doing. I thought of the sunset’s glowing reflection in the pools at the park, the evening call to prayer, and the scent of jasmine at night, which is always so much stronger than in the day, and to my surprise and dismay I could feel tears in my eyes. It was like being homesick, except that I was homesick for a place that wasn’t home.

I tilted my head back so that the tears wouldn’t actually run down my cheeks. I could see the other students milling about. The girls with their flat-ironed hair and perfect manicures and Ugg boots, the boys with their Under Armour and their crew cuts. The girl who sat in front of me was digging around in a Louis Vuitton briefcase. I suddenly felt quite bizarre, sitting in a classroom on the Upper East Side in my shalwar kameez. Maybe I’m exaggerating how weird it felt, looking back on it now. When I think about it, it’s like I’m floating above the class and looking at this one weird girl with her dark green tunic and pajama pants and frizzy red hair in a scrunchy, in the middle of a sea of perfect straight hair and Abercrombie jeans. I look so strange. And I think that was the first day, ever, that I felt as strange as I probably had always looked.

The first student to present her country was the girl with the Louis Vuitton briefcase, Alexandra. Her country was Egypt. I had been really looking forward to her presentation. I had a lot to say about Egypt—I knew Egypt really well. I even spoke some Arabic, although it wasn’t as good as my Urdu.

But as the presentation unfolded, I became increasingly dismayed. I think she must have lifted the whole thing from Wikipedia or the CIA fact book. Facts and figures galore and estimated GDP. A long, tedious discourse on the pharaohs and the pyramids. I bit my lip, trying to keep the expression off my face. How does anyone make pharaohs boring, I thought. Alexandra continued on, pushing back her smooth, blonde hair repeatedly with a practiced gesture. A sparkly bracelet slid up and down on her wrist.

After she had said the word “Muslim” and “Islam” about ten times, I raised my hand. Alexandra stopped speaking, clearly startled.

“There are Copts, too,” I began. I stopped. I hadn’t meant to stop her in her tracks, but I had feeling in my chest as if I would burst—and maybe she was getting to the Copts and wouldn’t mind some engagement with the class.

Alexandra shot a look at the teacher, who had retreated to the back of the room to listen and take notes.

“Copts,” she repeated.

“Coptic Christians?” I added helpfully.

“Oh. Right. Um, Christians in Egypt,” she nodded. She looked again at the teacher for help. The teacher remained impassive.

There was a silence. I felt eyes on me. I didn’t dare turn to see the expressions on the faces of my classmates. I knew instinctively that I had done something very wrong by speaking up.

But I couldn’t stand it. This was no introduction to Egypt, a country I had loved for as long as I could remember. Egypt was the land of pyramids, it was true. But it was also the land of so much more—Muslims and Christians, a huge entertainment industry that delighted the entire Arabic-speaking world, a Nobel-prize-winning novelist. It wasn’t this dry, boring place that she was describing, and if all you could say about the population was the name of the majority religion, you were entirely missing all the energy and conflict that made it such a dynamic, passionate culture.

“Thank you for your question, Meg,” the teacher said in a carefully neutral tone.

I felt sick. I had done something wrong, and I honestly had not meant to. Everyone was going to hate me now. At the same time, I felt angry. There was nothing wrong with my intentions. I wasn’t trying to make Alexandra look foolish, but she apparently didn’t have anything in her speech about the real Egypt.

My palms were sweating. I felt like I couldn’t move in my seat.

As other students got up one by one to give their presentations, I got to work on my own script. I had written it out in outline form on note cards, but I now took a pencil and started to draw lines through parts of my speech.

It was bad enough that I was going to have to stand there in a shalwar kameez. There was no way I was going to give the delighted description of the Lahore of my younger years that I had planned.

They would never understand the people are the heart and soul of a culture, of a country. They would never understand. I had to just try not to be laughed at, try not to upset the balance.

So my speech was shorter than planned. I started with a casual reference to my clothes and made a joke about pajamas. The class chuckled politely. Most of what I said was not actually written on my cards. I made up some facts and figures about population and chief industries, and then recited a brief history of the partition of India and the creation of Pakistan in 1947 from memory. I didn’t say a word about the labyrinthine alleyways of the market in Lahore, or the jasmine vines in Shalimar.

As I spoke, I looked around the room, but I didn’t see the faces. They were a blur. I could have imagined anything I wanted on those faces—disgust, contempt, amusement—but I don’t even remember them because I was just trying to get through the five minutes that I was standing up there in that outfit. Here’s something really strange—I could still smell jasmine. And I could feel my eyes filling up. I was sniffling and tossing my head because I didn’t want the tears to run down my face. I think maybe this would have qualified as some kind of panic attack, because I was imagining everything—the jasmine, the reaction of the kids, all of it. It wasn’t actually real. But everything, the emotions and the blurry audience, felt so REAL, and my stupid speech felt like something out of the dictionary.

There was polite applause when I sat down. My stomach still felt funny—when I get that angry, burning feeling inside, sometimes it feels weird in my stomach for days afterwards.

I actually got a B+ for that presentation. The weird feeling in my stomach came back when I saw the grade. I saw the brief comment on the front page of the brochure, something mildly critical about my artwork, before cramming the pages into my folder. I couldn’t stand to look at what exactly the teacher had said, but I am a pretty sucky artist, so I told myself that since my parents weren’t helping me to illustrate my work like the other parents did with their kids, I was obviously not going to get a top grade for that assignment. I buried the sense of disappointment and frustration, thinking that I was just glad to get out of that project without further embarrassment. No one had ever mentioned my Pakistani “costume” that day, and Alexandra remained carefully friendly, although she and the other girls remained a little too polite and a little too cordial—I knew that I wasn’t ever going to be their “type” anyway.

On my way out of the classroom on the day that we got our papers back, the teacher stopped me and waited until everyone had exited the room. He spoke kindly.

“You know a lot about foreign countries,” he said to me. I nodded.

“You’ve had an interesting life. You know much more than other kids your age.”

I nodded again.

“You know, some people study foreign cultures their whole lives.”

“I know. My parents—“ My voice suddenly choked on me and I stopped. I tried to clear my throat.

The teacher smiled and cocked his head. “You’re way ahead of most of the kids. But eventually you’ll be able to find people who share your interests. You’ll get there.” He patted my shoulder.

I really appreciated his kindness. And I understood what he was saying. That I was only weird—among my classmates. They were the normal ones, I was the weird one. I was going to be okay if I stuck to weird people like me.

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littleshopofreaders · 7 years

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Title: Redeemed (Love Seekers #2) Author: Maria Vickers Genre: Contemporary Romance Cover Designer: T.E. Black Designs Release date: 3/17/2017

✨ Add to Goodreads ✨ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32991824-redeemed

✨ Blurb ✨

Chad Alexander is a playboy that leads a life full of comfort, ease, and fun. With enough women at his beck and call to keep him from getting bored, he doesn’t understand why there is one woman constantly on his mind. She infuriates him, gets under his skin, and makes him desire her more than any other woman he has ever known. He loathes Rayne for the way she treats people she thinks are beneath her. In fact, he wants to teach her a lesson that will leave a lasting impression on her. But when it’s all said and done, why can’t he leave behind the one woman he can’t stand? Rayne Sampson is a beautiful woman who has men throwing themselves at her feet with one bat of her eyelashes. She is a woman that men write sonnets about, but she isn’t happy. Disgusted by her brother’s new wife, Rayne refuses to accept Emma in her life. Rayne knows that Chad has it out for her, however, she’s decided she’ll be the one teaching the lesson this time. Can she ignore the way her body yearns for his touch long enough to prove her point? Fighting each other, the passion between them ignites, leaving them both burning. Will they survive “the lesson” Chad sets out to teach her? Or will they both be incinerated before they reach the end of the line? Sometimes facing defeat is the only way to find yourself redeemed.

➡Want to start from the beginning? ⬅

Exposed (Love Seekers Book #1)

✨ Add to Goodreads ✨

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31367213-exposed?from_search=true

✨ Blurb ✨

Your twenties are supposed to be some of the best, and certainly the most fun of your life, but for Emma Taylor, turning twenty-five brought her world crashing down around her. Four years after being diagnosed with a debilitating disease, her love life is non-existent. A series of failed blind dates–courtesy of her friends–has left her feeling depressed and defeated. Intent on turning to her best friend for a vent session, Emma sends off a rapid-fire instant message, except her message ends up in someone else’s inbox. The inbox of hot Navy pilot, Bryan Sampson–her friend Mel’s best friend, and Emma’s secret crush.

Bryan Sampson has only met Emma Taylor one time during a night of karaoke while on leave, but in one night, she managed to make an impression. She seemed timid and uncomfortable in her own skin, but underneath it all, he could see how strong she had to be in order to cope with her disease. So when her message catches his eye, he opens it without a second thought and realizes almost immediately it isn’t intended for him. Now that he’s read it, though, he can’t turn his back on her and feels duty bound to help the cause. Besides, what else is he supposed to do with his free time? He vows he will help her find love never suspecting that the more he talks to her, the more he finds out about himself…the more she occupies his thoughts.

Emma is determined to face her demons thanks to Bryan’s encouragement, but little by little she begins falling harder for the one person who isn’t ashamed of her or her disease. Can she put her heart on the line and take the risk? Can she convince Bryan that love, her love, is worth it?

Sometimes all it takes is one person to expose the beauty within.

✨ Buy Links ✨

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2jIV41g Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2jhlkU3 Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2kzdphW Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2kFBo2l B&N Paperback: http://bit.ly/2jhrMdR

✨ About the Author ✨

Maria Vickers currently lives in St. Louis, MO with her pug, Spencer Tracy. She has always had a passion for writing and after she became disabled, she decided to use writing as her escape. She has one novel published now and will be publishing her second novel in September 2016.

❤✨ From the Author ✨❤

Life is about what you make of it. You have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.

I have always loved books. Not only creating the stories but reading them as well. Books transport me, and when I was younger, I would run into walls because I refused to put my books down even for a second. Take note, walking with books is not advised. LOL.

With my books, I just want to share my stories with the world. I want others to be transported or to feel the emotions my characters feel. That is my goal with my writing. If I can do that for one person, I succeeded.

Getting sick changed me and my life, but it also opened doors that I thought were closed. Today, even though I cannot do much, I still have my mind and I can write.

✨ Stalk the Author ✨

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mariavickersbooks/

IG:@authormariavickers

Twitter:@mvauthor

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/mvickersamazon

Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/mvickersgoodreads

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cvH8tX

Join her reader group, Maria’s Love Seekers: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1362108480474447/

Title: Redeemed (Love Seekers #2) Author: Maria Vickers Genre: Contemporary Romance Cover Designer: T.E. Black Designs…

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littleshopofreaders · 7 years

Text

Title: Redeemed (Love Seekers #2) Author: Maria Vickers Genre: Contemporary Romance Cover Designer: T.E. Black Designs Release date: 3/17/2017

✨ Add to Goodreads ✨ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32991824-redeemed

✨ Blurb ✨

➡Want to start from the beginning? ⬅

Exposed (Love Seekers Book #1)

✨ Add to Goodreads ✨

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31367213-exposed?from_search=true

✨ Blurb ✨

Sometimes all it takes is one person to expose the beauty within.

✨ Buy Links ✨

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2jIV41g Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2jhlkU3 Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2kzdphW Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2kFBo2l B&N Paperback: http://bit.ly/2jhrMdR

✨ About the Author ✨

❤✨ From the Author ✨❤

Life is about what you make of it. You have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.

Getting sick changed me and my life, but it also opened doors that I thought were closed. Today, even though I cannot do much, I still have my mind and I can write.

✨ Stalk the Author ✨

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mariavickersbooks/

IG:@authormariavickers

Twitter:@mvauthor

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/mvickersamazon

Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/mvickersgoodreads

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cvH8tX

Join her reader group, Maria’s Love Seekers: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1362108480474447/

Title: Redeemed (Love Seekers #2) Author: Maria Vickers Genre: Contemporary Romance Cover Designer: T.E. Black Designs…

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