#i listened to repeat until death while writing this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ducksido · 3 months ago

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What if yuu died?

(I'm feeling angsty >:]) ((I kept crying while writing this))

DWARF'S MINE:

Grim

Grim is the first one to notice.

They were bickering, as usual. Yuu told him not to wander off. He called them bossy and sauntered ahead. He thought Yuu was right behind him until he heard the rumble.

When Grim turns around, the mine is collapsing. He hears a scream—their scream—and then nothing.

At first, Grim is in denial. “They’re probably fine! Just hiding like a scaredy-cat!” he yells, ears flat, tail bristled. He digs at the rocks, paws trembling, not because he’s weak but because he’s scared. His tiny claws scrape until they bleed.

Later, when the truth settles in, Grim doesn’t talk for days. No bragging. No yelling. He just curls up on the couch in Ramshackle, staring at the door like he’s waiting for Yuu to walk through it.

He starts blaming himself. Quietly. “I shoulda protected them… I’m the Great Grim, right? What good is all this power if I couldn’t save 'em…”

Ace Trappola

Ace puts up a wall.

He makes some stupid comment at first. “They seriously died that easily? Weak…”

But his voice cracks halfway through. He avoids eye contact with Deuce and walks away before anyone can see him clench his fists.

Later, Ace returns to the mine alone. He just stands at the spot where the rocks fell, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Dumbass… you weren’t even supposed to be here. What were you thinking, coming down here without magic?”

If anyone tries to talk to him about it, he brushes them off. But sometimes, when no one's looking, he stares at Ramshackle’s gate like he wants to go up and say something—but always turns around.

Deuce Spade

Deuce takes it hard.

He was right there. He thought he was being responsible. He was supposed to look out for the magicless student, right?

“I failed them…” “I should’ve noticed something was wrong…” “If I’d just reacted faster…”

He says things like that a lot. Grim won’t talk. Ace won’t listen. So Deuce just keeps repeating it to himself.

He visits Ramshackle and helps clean it up. Makes sure the firewood is stacked, the beds are neat—even though no one lives there anymore. “I just… want to keep it ready. In case they come back. Somehow.”

Crowley

Crowley is... complicated.

Publicly, he spins it as a “tragic accident”—“A rare, unfortunate incident during a school-sanctioned task! We shall honor our lost guest!” He uses big words and flashy speeches, and pretends like this wasn’t his fault.

But when he’s alone in his office, he looks at the file with Yuu’s name and wonders if he ever even really tried to help them.

He sent a magicless teen to mine with unstable students and monsters.

He knew they were different. Vulnerable. And yet, he brushed it off.

There’s a note he writes but never sends, addressed to the mirror that summoned Yuu:

“This realm took what it never should have touched. And now it has blood on its hands.”

He keeps the key to Ramshackle on his desk. Every time he sees it, he flinches.

RIDDLE'S OVERBLOT

Grim

He saw it happen.

He was right there—he saw the blast coming, and he tried to drag Yuu back, but they slipped from his grip.

“Yuu?” he calls out, paw nudging at their arm. “Hey. Hey, c’mon, this ain’t funny. Get up.”

He tries to laugh it off at first. Grim doesn’t do death. He doesn’t understand it. Not really.

But when the healers come and shake their heads, when no one responds, something inside Grim shatters.

His magic starts reacting wildly. He growls and sparks with unstable fire, yelling at Riddle’s unconscious body like it’s his fault. “You ruined everything! They’re gone and it’s because of YOU!”

Afterward, he won’t eat. Won’t talk. He curls up in Yuu’s bed with their uniform jacket tucked under his chin, tail limp.

“They promised we’d figure stuff out together... Now I gotta do it alone?”

Ace Trappola

Ace flips out.

Not right away. First, it’s disbelief. “No, no, they’re gonna get up. Right? Deuce? Tell me they’re fine.”

Then, it’s anger. At Riddle. At Cater and Trey for not stopping it. At himself.

He slams his fist into a wall so hard his knuckles bleed. “I should’ve pulled them out. I saw the signs. I knew something was gonna happen.”

He gets snappy. Bitter. Starts arguments with anyone who tries to sugarcoat it. “They didn’t ‘pass peacefully.’ They got caught up in some overblot crap that wasn’t even their fault!”

He avoids Ramshackle. Too many memories. Too much guilt.

But he keeps Yuu’s student ID in his jacket pocket.

Deuce Spade

Deuce cries.

He tries to hold it in, tries to be strong—because that’s what he thinks Yuu would’ve wanted—but the tears come anyway. He sobs into his hands when no one’s looking, shaking with the weight of regret.

“I promised to protect them…” he whispers.

He keeps up their dorm. Keeps bringing food to Grim, even if the little guy won’t touch it. He visits Crowley’s office demanding answers, demanding justice, yelling that this shouldn’t have happened.

Deuce becomes the one who remembers the little things—how Yuu liked their tea, the dumb jokes they told, the way they always said "I've got your back" even without magic.

And he makes sure everyone else remembers too.

Riddle Rosehearts

When he wakes up from the overblot and hears the news, he goes silent.

He doesn't cry. Doesn’t scream. He just… shuts down.

He asks to see the body. Crowley says no.

So Riddle walks to the rose maze himself, stands in the spot where Yuu fell, and just stares at the blood-stained petals.

“I didn’t mean to…”

He says it to no one. Over and over. A mantra. A curse.

He writes an apology note but tears it up. Who would it even go to?

Trey and Cater notice the shift—Riddle becomes harsher on himself. More rigid. Less confident. Because deep down, he knows:

Someone died because he lost control.

Cater Diamond

Cater’s smile doesn’t slip right away.

He’s used to filtering his emotions. Used to staying “on brand,” even when he’s horrified. So when he sees Yuu’s lifeless form after the magic storm clears, he just… freezes.

“H-Haha… no way, right? This has to be a prank. Right, Riddle?”

No one answers. Grim is howling. Ace is screaming. Deuce is crying.

Cater’s hands start to shake.

Later, he’ll post nothing. Not even a filtered picture. He'll ghost Magicam for a while.

He tries to visit Ramshackle once, to drop off a bouquet of marigolds and forget-me-nots—but the door creaks open and he sees Grim curled up on the couch, and he just can’t do it.

“I didn’t even know them,” he murmurs to himself, “and it still hurts this bad… What about the ones who did?”

Trey Clover

Trey stays composed. He always does.

He takes over when everyone else is falling apart—helping stabilize the overblot aftermath, escorting Riddle away from the scene, offering Deuce a tissue, shielding Cater from seeing too much.

But when he's alone in the kitchen later, making a tart for no one, he lets himself break a little.

His knife pauses mid-slice. A cherry slips and stains the counter red.

“I should’ve noticed Riddle was this close to snapping,” he mutters. “If I’d stopped him sooner…”

Trey doesn't cry. But guilt clings to him like powdered sugar on a fresh cake. Yuu wasn’t his responsibility, but they were in his dorm's garden. Under his vice-leadership. And that’s not something he forgets easily.

He leaves a note at Ramshackle with a box of treats:

“For Grim. I know they liked sweet things. —Trey”

Dire Crowley

Crowley is the one who has to “make it official.”

He stands before the gathered first years, his usual flourish gone. There’s no fanfare, no dramatic cloak-swoosh. Just a stiff, solemn tone.

“It is with deepest regret that I must confirm… the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm has passed, following the incident involving an overblot.”

He doesn’t look anyone in the eye.

When the students leave, he stays behind in the hall, staring at the cracked mirror that once brought Yuu here.

“They were never supposed to be involved in magic,” he mutters. “I was supposed to protect them…”

He writes a formal report. Then another one. Then a third. None of them feel right.

Later, Crowley visits Ramshackle and sets down a key with a tiny raven charm beside their bed.

“I promised you safety. I failed. May this place remember you better than I did.”

LEONA'S OVERBLOT

It’s live. NRC's Spelldrive match is being broadcast across Twisted Wonderland.

Leona’s magic erupts like a sandstorm hurricane—spikes of sand and flame. Yuu is running, dragging an injured Grim, trying to reach Jack.

Then comes the roar.

Then silence.

The sand settles. A figure lies limp in the wreckage.

There’s a gasp on the feed. The camera zooms in— —and the world watches as the magicless Prefect, the one who stood beside overblots and chaos, lies still on the battlefield.

Grim

Grim doesn’t even process what happens at first.

He sees the sandstorm. The explosion of magic. He hears Yuu scream—and then nothing. Just silence.

He claws at their body. “Get up! Hey! I said get UP!”

He tries to use his magic. Tries to warm them up with a fireball. Nothing works.

He sobs until his voice is hoarse. He doesn’t leave their side—not when the teachers show up, not when the sun sets, not even when Crowley tries to move him.

“You said we were gonna leave this place together, remember? You promised…”

After that, he never says their name again. But he whispers it in his sleep, tail curled around their favorite pillow.

Ace Trappola

Ace punches Leona.

No questions, no hesitation—he hauls off and decks him right across the jaw, shouting “You bastard! You KILLED them!”

It doesn’t matter that Leona’s still recovering from the overblot. It doesn’t matter that he gets dragged off. He’s shaking with rage.

Ace’s grief comes out as fire. Loud. Angry. Messy.

Later, he sneaks into Ramshackle alone. He rifles through Yuu’s drawers, looking for something—a hoodie, a note, an old snack wrapper. Anything that still smells like them.

He finds a photo they all took before the Spelldrive match.

He keeps it in his wallet.

Deuce Spade

Deuce kneels beside Yuu’s body and doesn’t move for a long time.

He holds their hand. It’s still warm. He begs the healers to try again. Begs the staff to do something.

“They can’t be gone… Not them. Not Yuu…”

He starts blaming himself. “If I’d been faster. If I’d trained harder. If I’d just been stronger—”

He throws himself into becoming stronger after that. Pushing past his limits. Studying harder. Training until he drops.

But he never stops wearing the little Ramshackle pin Yuu made for him, safety-pinned to the inside of his collar.

Cater Diamond

Cater completely drops the act.

No more filters. No cute captions. No jokes.

He vanishes from Magicam for a full month. When he comes back, it’s quiet. Just a black square and one line:

“Miss u, bestie.”

He tries to keep smiling around others, especially Grim, but it’s clearly forced. His voice cracks sometimes.

“I never even said goodbye… How could I not say goodbye?!”

Cater leaves a bracelet at the edge of the Savanaclaw field where they fell—green and silver beads, their initials on it.

He comes back every week to make sure it's still there.

Trey Clover

Trey becomes the one who takes care of everyone else.

He comforts Grim. Checks on Deuce. Calms Ace. Brings food even when no one eats.

He tries to be steady, reliable—but even he has his moments.

Sometimes, late at night in the kitchen, when he’s baking and the scent of vanilla fills the room, he sees Yuu laughing by the counter and has to sit down before he breaks.

He brings a box of strawberry tarts to Ramshackle and places it on their bed, whispering, “You always liked these… right?”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is devastated.

He stares at their body with wide, horrified eyes. His throat closes. He stammers something—rules, overblot laws, consequences—but the words fall flat.

He visits their grave alone. He brings roses, red and white.

“I should have stopped Leona. I knew something was wrong. I should have said something. Done something…”

He reads old messages Yuu sent him. Keeps rereading them, like they'll change.

When Heartslabyul hosts a tea party in their memory, Riddle personally makes sure it’s perfect.

“They deserve nothing less.”

Jack Howl

Jack grits his teeth.

He says nothing at first. Just watches in silence as the healers pronounce Yuu gone.

But later, he trains. Harder than ever. His knuckles split. His legs ache.

“If I’d been there a second earlier… I could’ve shielded them.”

He doesn’t cry, but he starts carrying himself a little more respectfully. For Yuu.

At Ramshackle, he leaves a desert lily by their bed—a flower that survives in harshness. “You were tough. I’ll honor that.”

Dire Crowley

Crowley looks… older afterward.

He gives a dramatic speech at the memorial. Everyone assumes he’s playing it up again—until he chokes up mid-sentence.

“This school was supposed to keep them safe…”

He writes a letter to the Headmage’s council, arguing that overblots are no longer “rare accidents,” but institutional failures.

He also writes one to Yuu.

It sits in his drawer, never sent.

“You deserved better. From this world. From me. I only hope the next life is kinder.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona doesn’t say a word when he’s told Yuu didn’t survive.

He just stares. At the scorch mark in the dirt. At the faces of the others—Grim sobbing, Deuce shaking, Ace screaming at him. He says nothing.

He turns away.

No apology. No excuse. He doesn't even try to defend himself.

Later, alone in his dorm, he leans against the wall with a clenched jaw, grinding his molars. His overblot haze is gone, but the image of Yuu—burned into his memory—won’t leave.

“Tch... They were a nobody. Just some magicless brat...”

But he’s not saying it to anyone else. He’s trying to convince himself. Because deep down, he knows that’s not true. Yuu stood their ground. Faced him when even Savanaclaw students ran. And they died because of him.

The next day, Leona doesn’t come out of his room.

The week after that, he’s quieter. Less sharp-tongued. Still dangerous, still smug—but there’s a heaviness in his voice now.

He doesn’t go to the memorial. But he sends a small wrapped parcel to Ramshackle with Ruggie.

Inside: a faded Savanaclaw armband and a simple note.

They had guts. —L

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t close to Yuu, but they helped him once.

Shared a snack. Laughed at his dumb jokes. Treated him like a person, not Leona’s errand boy.

So when he sees their body, something shifts.

“…They’re really gone?”

He doesn’t cry. He’s too used to loss for that. But his stomach churns as he watches Grim howl and Ace get dragged away from Leona.

Ruggie knew this was gonna happen eventually. He just didn’t think it’d be Yuu.

He feels the tension in the dorm, hears the whispers from other students, and suddenly everything feels too loud.

That night, he lights a candle in the Savanaclaw lounge. It’s small, cheap, something from the Night Market.

He stares at the flame and murmurs, “Rest easy, alright? Sorry we never got to hang out more…”

Then he turns and gets back to work, because someone has to clean up the mess.

But he steals food from the cafeteria a little more often now.

For Grim.

AZUL'S OVERBLOT

Grim

He can’t even scream this time.

He runs to their body, but the water’s still seeping away. He tries to drag them out. Shouts for help.

He sobs into their clothes, claws clenched around fabric, whispering over and over, “No no no—come on, come on—don’t do this, please—”

He tries breathing fire, again and again, like maybe the warmth will bring them back.

Azul’s contracts burn around them. Grim doesn’t care. He curls around their chest and doesn’t move for hours.

Ace Trappola

Ace laughs.

It’s a broken sound, too sharp to be real.

“No way. No way they’re— They can’t be— This is stupid. They survived Leona. They survived Riddle. They’re Yuu.”

He looks at Azul like he wants to kill him, but then just… stops. He walks over to Yuu’s body and sits down beside them, knees to his chest, silent.

Hours later, he mutters to no one, “I didn’t even get to say sorry… I called them annoying this morning…”

Deuce Spade

Deuce falls to his knees.

He shakes Azul by the collar, shouting “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” before Jack pulls him back.

Then he kneels by Yuu and clutches their hand like it’s an anchor. He doesn’t move for a long time, even when everyone else starts to leave.

He wears their Ramshackle pin on his blazer after that. Cleans it every morning.

When he does tests, exams, in a track race, he whispers under his breath, “Watch me. I’ll make you proud.”

Jack Howl

Jack stands frozen in place.

His tail bristles. His claws dig into his palms. But he doesn’t lash out. He doesn’t cry.

He walks over and picks up the tattered scarf Yuu always wore, brushes the ink off it gently.

“They were a good one,” he says quietly.

He trains harder after that. Says less. But anyone who enters the Savannaclaw training field will find a small stone marker in the far corner.

“To the one who stood tall without claws.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie curses.

“Damn it. Damn it all.”

He kicks one of the broken tables. Then another. And then he stops—because he sees Grim, curled and shaking, and his chest aches.

He drops to a squat beside him, puts a hand on Grim’s back.

“They were… They were somethin’ else, huh?”

He steals food from the Lounge that night. Loads of it. Drops it off at Ramshackle with no note.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he swears to himself: No one else from their circle dies on his watch.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s the first to arrive after the overblot ends.

He sees the ink, the body, the shattered remains of the contracts—and doesn’t speak. Not at first.

“…You actually went and got them killed, huh?” he mutters to Azul.

Leona walks over to Yuu and crouches low. His tail flicks.

“Should’ve told you not to play hero again. Should’ve made you stay out of this.”

He leaves a desert lily by their side and walks away before anyone sees his hands shaking.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is catatonic.

He collapses when the overblot fades. The moment he sees what he’s done—who he’s killed—his voice dies in his throat.

“No… No, no, no… I didn’t mean…”

He vomits ink.

He sobs behind his hands.

He screams at the sea for days afterward.

He locks himself in his office and doesn't come out. Not for weeks. He can’t even look at his own reflection.

Eventually, he stops using contracts.

He burns every single one.

Jade Leech

Jade is… quiet.

Too quiet.

He kneels beside the body and closes their eyes. Straightens their sleeves. Brushes the ink from their lashes.

Then he looks at Azul—torn, sobbing—and doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t smile after that. Not in the Lounge. Not in class.

When asked, he only says: “They were… sincere. And brave. It's a shame. A true shame.”

He visits Ramshackle every now and then, leaving wild mushrooms at the doorstep.

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn’t take it well.

First, he laughs.

“Eh? Seriously? Shrimpy’s dead? Just like that?”

Then his smile vanishes. Completely.

“...No fun.”

He walks into the Lounge’s VIP room and trashes it. Rips through furniture. Breaks the glass. Shatters the chandelier.

No one stops him.

After that, he won’t talk about it. If someone mentions Yuu, he gets quiet.

He goes out swimming in the ocean for hours. Sometimes all night.

When he comes back, he’s always more tired.

Dire Crowley

Crowley stands at the edge of the scene, looking like a ghost.

This is the third time now. Third overblot. Third time Yuu has nearly died. Except this time…

He pulls his hat down, voice tight. “I failed them. Again.”

He doesn’t perform this time. No grand speeches. Just silence and shame.

He drafts a dozen letters to Yuu’s family—then throws them all out. What could he say? "Your child died in another world under my care?"

He declares a school-wide mourning period and cancels all contracts indefinitely.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is.

JAMIL'S OVERBLOT

They were too close. Always too close.

In trying to protect Kalim, in trying to talk Jamil down, they stepped into range—and one of the snake-like braids struck. Fast. Precise. Poisonous.

No one noticed the bite at first. Not even Yuu.

But as the overblot fades, and the sand settles, they collapse—pale, lips turning blue, their breathing labored until…

It stops.

And the music dies with them.

Grim

He’s the first to notice something’s wrong.

He shakes Yuu’s arm, pats their cheek. “Oi, this isn’t funny—come on, we’ve gotta scold Jamil, right?”

But their chest doesn’t rise.

Grim screams. His voice cracks.

“YUU?!”

He doesn’t leave their side for the rest of the night, paws clutching their arm, growling at anyone who tries to move them.

When Ace and Deuce return, he nearly attacks them just to stop them from seeing.

Jamil Viper

He sees the bite. He knows exactly what it means.

He knows.

He drops to his knees.

“...No… no no no…”

His voice shakes. His hands tremble. His overblot form may have faded, but its consequences linger like venom in his blood.

He killed them.

No tricks. No schemes. No brainwashing. Just murder.

He doesn’t run. He doesn’t speak. He just sits in the sand, staring at his hands, unable to move.

He’s silent for hours.

When they drag him away, he doesn’t resist.

Kalim Al-Asim

He doesn’t understand at first.

“Yuu? What are they doing? They’re just sleeping, right? Right, Jamil?!"

But Jamil won’t meet his eyes.

And when Grim doesn’t answer—when Grim starts sobbing—Kalim’s smile falls. Shatters.

“No… no, no, this isn’t…”

He grabs Yuu’s hand and holds it like he can warm it back to life.

“Please—wake up—we haven’t even gone swimming yet! You promised!”

He cries hard. For hours. He tries to take the blame, keeps saying:

“It should’ve been me. I was the one he hated…”

Azul Ashengrotto

When Azul sees the body, he goes eerily quiet.

He slams the lounge door shut, tells Jade and Floyd to cancel operations for a week. When they ask why, he just mutters:

“Yuu’s dead. Jamil’s overblot.”

That night, Azul goes down to the sea and throws in a silver pen—a token Yuu once gave him when he helped them with a contract.

He doesn’t talk about it afterward.

But he never lets a client leave with a dangerous deal again.

Jade Leech

Jade lowers his when he sees the body.

“…How unfortunate.”

He’s quiet for a long while. He plants a rare desert flower in a terrarium—a tribute. Waters it every morning.

When questioned, he only says, “They were brave. It is a shame bravery rarely guarantees survival.”

But his smiles are smaller now. More thoughtful. Especially around Jamil.

Floyd Leech

He gets quiet.

Too quiet.

He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t grin. Just tosses a beach ball into the ocean and watches it float away.

When asked, he mutters, “Shrimpy was s’posed to come back. I was gonna show ‘em how to really swim…”

And then, with no warning, he grabs Jamil by the collar and slams him into a wall.

“You bit them, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t hit him. Just glares, then shoves him down and walks away.

He doesn’t show up to class for three days after that.

Crowley

He returns in high spirits, sunburned and humming—until he sees the school’s flag at half-mast.

“What happened—?”

Grim hits him with a fireball before he can finish his sentence.

When Crowley sees Yuu’s name etched into the memorial stone, he drops to his knees.

He doesn’t even try to justify himself.

He just whispers, “I left. Again. And they paid for it…”

And for once, Crowley vanishes from public view.

Not even the staff can find him for days.

Ace Trappola

He bursts through the gate, duffel in hand, bragging to Deuce—until Grim tackles him, claws shaking.

“They’re gone,” Grim wheezes, “They’re gone, Ace!”

Ace laughs. “Huh? Quit messin’ with me—what do you—”

Then he sees Deuce’s face pale. And the memorial stone. And the empty Ramshackle doorway.

“…No. No, no—this is a joke, right?!”

He punches the wall until his knuckles bleed.

Deuce Spade

He drops his bag the moment Grim tells them.

“No way… No—they were fine. They were fine when we left—”

He clutches his stomach and falls to his knees. “Why weren’t we here? Why didn’t we come back sooner?!”

He visits the grave every morning for a week. Leaves flowers. Doesn’t say much in class.

His grades improve. His magic sharpens.

He swears it won’t happen again.

Riddle Rosehearts

He stares at the nameplate on the stone.

“…They died protecting someone else?”

He places a red rose beneath the inscription.

“They never followed the rules… and still had the nerve to leave before I could thank them.”

His voice is brittle.

After that, he disciplines his dorm a little less harshly.

He gives Grim his leftover tarts in silence.

Trey Clover

He sighs deeply, brows furrowed.

“…I should’ve known something like this would happen.”

He helps Cater plan a quiet tribute in Heartslabyul. A tea party with Yuu’s favorite sweets. No rules. No scolding.

Just stories.

Trey keeps their seat open.

Cater Diamond

He cries in the hallway.

No selfies. No filters. No pretending.

Just raw, ugly crying.

“Why didn’t I get more pictures with them…?”

He organizes a social feed in their memory. Posts their art. Their dumb selfies. Their best moments.

It goes viral within NRC. Students from all dorms comment:

“They helped me.” “They stood up for me.” “I miss them…”

Leona Kingscholar

“…Damn snake.”

He growls low, tail twitching.

He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t threaten. Just walks out of the dorm and stares at the cliffs until sunset.

He was starting to respect them.

Now he never gets the chance.

Ruggie Bucchi

He’s pissed.

At Crowley. At Jamil. At himself.

He sneaks into the infirmary late at night and punches the wall once—just once.

Then he wipes his eyes and leaves, like nothing happened.

But he leaves offerings at the stone every week. Small things.

Bread. Buttons. A lucky toothpick.

Jack Howl

He stands before the memorial with flowers in hand and says nothing.

Not a word.

But he starts training harder.

When he duels, he whispers: “Hope you’re watching.”

VIL'S OVERBLOT

The air is thick with smoke and glamour. Vil's overblot form collapses, and the world finally breathes.

Everyone thinks it's over.

Until Yuu sways.

Until their lips tremble with blue.

Until they fall with no warning.

Grim reaches them first, and then all hell breaks loose.

Grim

He’s laughing at first. “We did it, right?! Right, Hench—?”

He sees the foam on their lips.

“No.”

He shakes them. “No—NO! Don’t you dare pull this crap—wake up! You said we were gonna get celebratory tuna!”

He shrieks when they stop breathing. He claws at his own face, trembling so hard he can barely speak.

When someone touches him, he bites them.

“DON’T—touch them—don’t take them away!!”

Ace Trappola

He rushes to Yuu’s side, shouting their name. Shaking them like that’ll undo it.

He looks to Deuce. Then to Grim. Then to Vil.

“WHO DID THIS?!”

He’s crying—actually crying—and it’s not cute. It’s ugly. Angry. Messy.

“I should’ve noticed—I should’ve—why didn’t I—?!”

He tries to do CPR. Tries to cast a healing spell. Anything.

None of it works.

Deuce Spade

He goes quiet. Stone-faced.

He tries to carry Yuu’s body like they’re still breathing, like maybe warmth and motion will bring them back.

His voice is hoarse: “I’ll take them to the infirmary. I can fix this. I can fix this.”

He doesn't stop walking until someone physically pulls him back.

When he finally lets go, he drops to his knees and sobs into his hands.

Jamil Viper

When he sees the foaming poison, the slow purple hue crawling over Yuu’s veins…

He knows.

“…Vil used poison,” he mutters, numb. “And they were too close.”

He staggers back, staring at his hands like he’s watching it happen all over again.

“Not again,” he whispers. “Not again.”

He turns and walks away. Doesn’t look back.

This time, he cries alone.

Kalim Al-Asim

“Yuu…?”

He kneels beside them. Touches their cheek.

“Yuu? Come on, wake up—it’s over, we won! You said you’d teach me how to bake that cake, remember?”

He keeps babbling. Keeps smiling. Even as tears start to fall.

Even when they don’t wake up.

“…They were always smiling,” he whispers. “Even when things were scary…”

Epel Felmier

He starts shaking.

He was right beside them. Right beside them.

And he didn’t notice.

“They were fine—they were still standing—they were smiling—”

He screams into his hands. Then punches the ground until his knuckles bleed.

Vil tries to stop him.

Epel shouts, “DON’T!”

And turns away, teeth bared in grief.

Rook Hunt

The first thing he says is quiet. Reverent.

“…They died beautifully.”

Everyone stares.

Then he kneels down and closes Yuu’s eyes gently.

“They were a soul full of light. To burn out in such a theatrical, bittersweet way… it’s almost poetic.”

His voice breaks.

He looks at Vil.

“Mon Roi. What have you done?”

Vil Schoenheit

He knew.

He knew what was in the poison. How fast it worked. How potent it was.

And still—still—he let it happen.

When Yuu collapses, his voice fails. He runs to them, brushes their hair back.

He presses his forehead to theirs.

“…You idiot,” he chokes. “Why didn’t you move? You should have stayed behind the curtain!”

He doesn’t say much after that.

But he cancels his return to the stage.

Forever.

Crowley

He returns to a somber, shattered NRC.

When he hears what happened, he doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t excuse himself.

He walks into Ramshackle dorm, sits in the dark, and whispers:

“I keep failing you.”

He shuts the dorm down for a week.

He leaves a golden brooch on Yuu’s old pillow.

Trey, Cater, Riddle, Leona, Ruggie, Jack

Trey makes a cake and leaves it at Ramshackle. Says nothing.

Cater posts one last selfie with Yuu and doesn’t log into Magicam again for a month.

Riddle reprimands Vil for days—then visits the grave in silence.

Leona grits his teeth, then throws a spell book across his room. Doesn’t talk about it.

Ruggie mutters, “Figures someone like him would mess it up,” then wipes his eyes.

Jack makes a point to place wildflowers near their grave every few days.

Jade whispers, “They died protecting others. Admirable… but costly.”

Floyd just says, “Shrimpy’s really gone, huh…” and doesn’t smile for a week.

Azul throws himself into managing the lounge, late at night he stares at a framed picture of him and Yuu and cries.

Hornton

He’s fixing the stage with his magic. Alone. Quiet. Restoring the ruins left behind after Vil’s rampage.

Then he sees it—Yuu’s name on the memorial plaque. A candle burning low.

He stares.

His magic falters.

“…No.”

His voice shakes.

“...No.”

He vanishes from the stage.

Later, students find the ruins of a blasted tree behind Ramshackle.

And Malleus is there. Silent. Still. Staring at Yuu’s favorite bench—the one they sat on during night talks.

He places a glowing crystal beside it. It hums softly. Mourning.

“No one else sat with me in the dark,” he whispers. “No one else called me ‘Hornton.’”

IDIA'S OVERBLOT

Grim

He's inconsolable.

Screaming. Thrashing. Clinging to Yuu's unmoving form. There's soot on his fur and tear tracks down his face.

“They were just—they were just joking about food! We were gonna go home, we were—they PROMISED!!”

He tries to breathe fire in grief, but it sputters out into smoke. He curls into their chest and won’t let go.

Ace Trappola

“No.”

He walks up. Stares. Backs away.

“No. No—no, this isn’t—that’s not funny, Yuu. Get up.”

He turns to Deuce. His voice is cracking.

“They’re gonna sit up. They’re just messing with us, right?”

But no one laughs.

He kneels down and covers his face with both hands.

Deuce Spade

His entire body locks up.

“I should’ve—gone in with them. I should’ve…”

His fists clench so tightly they bleed.

He kneels beside Grim and takes one of Yuu’s hands in his. Quiet.

“Thank you… for everything.”

Jack Howl

He has no words. Only a silent, thunderous grief.

He lowers his head respectfully. Closes Yuu’s eyes with trembling fingers.

He doesn't cry. But his voice is hoarse for days.

Later, he trains until he collapses. Trying to make sure no one else dies again.

Ruggie Bucchi

“…Sh*t.”

That’s all he says at first. He turns away.

Wipes his eyes before anyone sees.

But he leaves a meat pie at their grave later. Wrapped in a checkered cloth. No note. No message.

Just something Yuu said they always wanted to try.

Leona Kingscholar

He scowls. Says they were reckless. That it was bound to happen.

But the minute no one’s watching, he storms off into the desert garden and roars so loud it shakes the windows.

When he comes back, he’s dragging an ancient herb said to revive the dead.

It doesn’t work.

Trey Clover

He finds Grim later in Ramshackle.

And quietly makes enough food for two, even though only Grim eats.

No one sees him cry.

But he starts baking a certain kind of cake more often—one that only Yuu ever asked for.

Cater Diamond

He doesn’t post anything on Magicam for three months.

He tries to smile. He jokes. But his heart’s not in it.

He visits Ramshackle every week and leaves flowers—sunflowers, yellow and bright.

“You always made things feel warm, y’know?” he whispers.

Riddle Rosehearts

He keeps it together at first.

But when he’s alone? He breaks.

He slams his fists into the desk. Screams into the void.

“They didn’t have magic! They shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have had to go alone!”

He writes a law in Yuu’s honor: “No student shall face a magical threat without backup.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul’s hands shake when he sees Yuu’s body.

“They gave me a second chance,” he whispers.

“And I couldn’t even…”

He shuts down the Lounge for a week.

He orders every contract reviewed. Removes every dangerous clause Yuu once called out.

He leaves an ornate seashell at their grave. Etched with: “For the one who believed in me.”

Jade Leech

“…A tragedy.”

His tone is calm. But his eyes are not.

He takes off his gloves and places them over Yuu’s hands, folding them gently.

“I suppose I must find a new mushroom for mourning,” he murmurs.

He visits often. Leaves nothing but silence and prayers.

Floyd Leech

At first? Nothing.

Just blank staring.

Then: “Shrimpy’s really gone, huh?”

He doesn’t cry.

But he drags Idia by the collar and nearly kills him.

“You owe them. FIX IT.”

It takes four people to pull him off.

He doesn't smile after that. Not for a long time.

Idia Shroud

At first, he thinks it’s a glitch.

Then he sees them—unmoving, burned at the edges, body limp in Grim’s arms.

He doesn’t scream.

He just stares. A long time. And says:

“…I killed them.”

He doesn't resist when Floyd attacks. He wants to be punished.

Later, he shuts himself inside the lab. Ignores Ortho. Refuses food.

All he says, over and over, is:

“I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want this.”

Ortho Shroud

“No. No, no, no—please wake up! I can scan you—I can rebuild you, I can—”

His voice distorts.

“PLEASE DON’T LEAVE NII-SAN BEHIND!!”

When Yuu doesn’t stir, Ortho’s eyes dim.

He flies off.

And no one sees him for three days.

Crowley

He was there. Watching from the surface. Powerless to go down with them.

When Yuu doesn’t return, he collapses to his knees.

He says nothing.

But every night after, the gate to the Underworld glows dimly. Lit by a single enchanted candle.

Burning for the student who dared cross the River Styx.

MALLEUS'S OVERBLOT (may be inaccurate)

Grim

He holds your hand as you fade, clawing at the thorns like they'll move.

“Don’t go. You—you always saved everyone!! I was supposed to protect you—!!”

He’s wailing.

When it’s over, he curls into your chest and doesn’t speak for two days.

Ace Trappola

He’s the first to scream.

“WHAT’S THE POINT OF WAKING UP IF THEY’RE DEAD!?”

He runs at the thorns. Punches them until his fists bleed. Until Deuce pulls him back.

He curses Malleus. Then curses himself.

Then, eventually, just sits on the floor. Staring.

Deuce Spade

He kneels beside your body.

His voice cracks as he says:

“I became a better person because of you…”

Then, in a whisper:

“…I don’t know how to be good without you.”

Cater Diamond

“No… not them… anyone but them…”

He sobs. No filters. No jokes. No posing.

His Magicam goes dark again. He locks himself in his room and cries into their old photos.

Trey Clover

He can’t breathe when he sees you.

He covers his face. Kneels.

“I should’ve done more. Been there. Helped you—something.”

He leaves a tiny tart beside your grave, baked with your favorite flavor.

Riddle Rosehearts

His voice is a whisper. Unsteady.

“They were the only one who understood me... even after everything I did...”

He places a rose—red and thornless—on your chest.

And kneels, head bowed.

Leona Kingscholar

He stares down at you. Quiet.

“I told you not to play hero,” he murmurs.

He sounds tired. Angry. Hollow.

But he watches over your grave when no one else will.

Silent. Guarding. For hours at a time.

Ruggie Bucchi

"...Tch."

He turns his back. Walks away.

But hours later, someone finds a crumpled note by your bed.

"Thanks for feeding me."

Jack Howl

He stands still for a long time.

Then salutes you with quiet reverence.

“You had more heart than anyone I’ve ever met.”

He trains harder than ever after that. To live by your example.

Azul Ashengrotto

He drops to his knees.

“This wasn’t part of the deal…”

His voice breaks.

“I would've traded everything. Just—just to keep them safe…”

He cancels all contracts for a week. Shuts down the Lounge. Cries behind locked doors.

Jade Leech

He gently closes your eyes.

And, for once, doesn’t smile.

“Even rare orchids wither in the frost,” he says.

And places a white lily beside you.

Floyd Leech

“…Shrimpy…”

He pokes your cheek.

No response.

Then he howls. He tears up a hallway. Slams a wall with a fist that cracks stone.

He doesn’t laugh again for a month.

Kalim Al-Asim

“No no no—you were supposed to live!! You saved me!! Why didn’t I save you!?”

He sobs into Jamil’s shoulder.

He lights candles in your memory every night.

Jamil Viper

He closes his eyes.

He doesn't speak. Just mutters a single word:

“Unfair.”

But later, he visits your resting place, presses a charm into the soil.

“I owed you more than I gave.”

Vil Schoenheit

He holds you like glass. Like something sacred.

“Your final act was... selfless. Poetic. Tragic.”

He speaks at your memorial.

And always leaves a pristine white rose.

Epel Felmier

His shoulders shake.

He refuses to speak at the ceremony. But he carves a tiny wooden charm for you.

He carries it in his pocket. Always.

Rook Hunt

Tears fall freely.

“Ah, mon trésor… such beauty, such sacrifice…”

He writes a ballad in your honor. He performs it in the forest, alone.

Idia Shroud

He stares at you with wide eyes. Whispering to himself.

“No. No. Not again. Not another one. Not like Ortho—!”

He curls into himself.

And when he reboots Ortho later, he hugs him like he’ll disappear too.

Ortho Shroud

He powers down for a full day.

And when he reactivates, he asks:

“Why didn’t I detect the danger? Why couldn’t I save them?”

He makes a digital backup of your voice. It plays when he’s alone.

Lilia Vanrouge

He lowers his head and whispers in old fae tongue.

“They were brave.”

He sings an ancient lullaby only fae children know.

And your grave is tended by wild roses from then on.

Silver

He brushes your hair back.

“I thought we’d all wake up…”

He places a dream charm on your chest.

“So you’d never be afraid. Not even now.”

Sebek Zigvolt

He yells.

First at Malleus. Then at the world. Then at himself.

“They protected you, my lord! And now they’re GONE!”

His voice breaks.

He kneels beside your grave.

“They were… a knight.”

Malleus Draconia

When he sees you fall, his world ends.

The thorns fade. The dreams collapse.

You lay still in his arms.

His voice is a whisper. A plead.

“No. No no no. This isn't what I wanted…”

He doesn’t overblot again.

He just… disappears.

Some say he wandered into the thorns. Others say he turned into mist.

But on quiet nights, a low voice murmurs:

“I wanted eternity with you.”

Crowley

For once… he takes responsibility.

He wears all black.

He lays a feathered mask at your grave.

And whispers:

“You were the one good thing I never deserved.”

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst yuu #twst headcanons #yuu died #main character death #angst #tw death #tw main character death #tw heavy topics

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 5 months ago

Text

Paint Me Red

Synopsis: You and Damian like horror movies for the same reason.

Pairing: Dark!Damian Wayne X Dark!AFAB!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+ pwp; Kinda gore?; Cannibalism kink? Definitely hinted; Biting link; Blood kink; Fingering; Watching straight porn; Torture porn? It's all fake and no one’s suffering; Pain kink maybe; They are freaks and they are in love; Worshipping?; A hint of love-bombing? I repeat, they're freaks and they're in love, your honor; Mention of hipersexuality; Damian enjoys pain, gore and death, despite not killing anymore, Reader likes it too; Reader has long hair and is implied to be wearing a shirt or dress with straps and bare thighs; English isn't my first language.

Word count: 1,2k

Requested? No.

Extra notes: Inspired by the movie May and everyone who yaps about yandere!Damian being cannibal coded. I also love when someone writes Damian a little psycho, a little sadomasochist. And a Damian who worships his S/O is the best Damian!!! I recommend reading this while listening to Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge. Not sure I like my writing here tho, especially the title, there were many good options that also seemed bad options

General masterlist

Damian was odd, you knew it from the start. Everyone who interacts with him knows it from the start.

That didn't stop you from being flustered when he confessed his — in his actual words — all consuming, undying love. You never thought anyone would actually use those words while declaring their feelings for someone, but as always with him, Damian was different.

And maybe you were different too.

You came back from your weekly date with him to the apartament you recently started sharing, despite being so young and having been dating for only a month when he asked. Your friends called it love-bombing. You had never heard of a more romantic term.

He took you to the bedroom as soon as you crossed the threshold, excited about a surprise he planned for you, but there was nothing different there, until he pulled his laptop out, fiddled with something, connected to the overhead projector you bought once on a whim, after watching a tiktok, only to realize it wasn't any better than just watching on your television or laptop. At least it wasn't as expensive as one would think.

Regardless, you still used it sometimes, even if for the sake of being spontaneous — and making your money worth it —, and your boyfriend was clearly looking for that.

You sat on the edge of the bed, and in less than a minute, Damian was sitting beside you, while a weird video started playing.

— I found it online, beloved. — Damian explained. — A short film, made by a group of independent artists, I think. — You nodded along, this level of cinephilia was not exactly your thing, but you did enjoy watching movies and leaving reviews on Letterboxd, if it caught Damian's interest, then it must be something.

— Yeah, very Texas Chainsaw Massacre. — You commented, not because it actually looked to be a horror movie, but more because of the quality of the camera, the eery atmosphere, and the scenario being filmed in the middle of nowhere. It seemed like an actually calm movie, but you knew something was up, there was only a young couple having a cute picnic.

Damian looked at you with wide, almost innocent eyes, boyish excitement coupled with some glint you couldn't identify.

— Exactly!

You felt some satisfaction and pride. You were the one who presented him with the classic slasher movies — one of your favorite genres — and were surprised by his eager acceptance of them, since a lot of them didn't have much quality. But he seemed interested in the death scenes and gore. Maybe it was the remnants of his childhood on him, but you didn't have that past and still related to him, much to his delight. He also commented about how unreal a lot of it was, from experience, no doubt.

It was almost cute. And hot.

Damian's hand laid on your thigh, while his thumb started rolling circles on your bare skin.

You let out a gasp when the girl in the movie, out of nowhere, bit hard on her boyfriend’s finger while he fed her a piece of pie with his hands. An exaggerated amount of blood started sliding down her lips and his hand, but he didn't scream, he just stared at her while she had mischief and desire in her eyes.

Damian's hand squeezed your flesh.

— How did you find this on YouTube? I'm pretty sure they wouldn't allow it there. — You wondered out loud, squeezing your thighs when the guy used his bloody hand to push the strap of her sundress down, revealing her supple breast. He leaned forward and peppered kisses down her chest, while pushing the other strap down, revealing her torso even more, until he bit her ribs’s flesh just as hard, face partially covered by her left tit.

Now, they were both smeared in lots of blood, from his hand travelling her body and the new wound.

— I did not mention YouTube. — He answered, and you hummed, paying extreme attention to the movie, intrigued, and half surprised to be turned on. But it was shallow, a thin layer of lust that went unnoticed by you, mistaken by intrigue and excitement.

You only noticed how hot you were, when Damian did the same thing to you. He slowly and deliberately got closer, pushed your hair back from your shoulder, and left wet, slow pecks down your neck, while pushing your straps down. You just stared at the images while he did his thing.

You were interrupted when he bit down on your shoulder, hard, leaving teeth marks, but not enough to bleed. You couldn't help the yelp of pain that escaped you by surprise, but didn't feel like reprimanding him when he soothed the feeling by still kissing you, and buried his hand between your legs, invading your underwear.

You opened your legs to give him more space, while your lips also parted to let out a deep breath, not out of nervousness, but anticipation. When you paid attention to the movie again, the guy was lying between the girl’s legs, leaving a nasty bite on her inner thigh. The blood dripped down and ruined her white underwear, but her boyfriend just started eating her out with the fabric still on the way.

Meanwhile, Damian played with your wet clit with his thumb while he inserted two fingers into your moist hole with ease, catching you both off guard with how wet you were with basically nothing. He had a hunch you would like his surprise, but not that much.

In need to let out some pent-up desire, he bit your flesh once more, this time above your breast. A low whimper of pain forced its way out of your throat. You looked down and noticed Damian's full-on boner.

You reached and pressed your hand against him, making him hiss and finally stop lapping at your skin, to look at you with desire. You kept eye-contact while rubbing him through his pants.

Damian pressed his lips to yours in haste, eager to taste your tongue while pumping his fingers faster and deeper against your walls, focused on abusing your sweet spot. The kiss was more sensual than ever, a dance which consisted in sharing heavy breaths, exchanged pecks, sucking lips and caressing tongues. While you both were like rabbits a third of the time, you being hipersexual and him being in love with you, the newfound shared taboo kink definitely turned things up a notch. And you expressed it by interrupting the kiss with a hard bite on his bottom lip.

Damian hissed like a cat until you let his lip go. When he glared at you, anyone would think he was livid like you just kicked his dog, but you knew him better than anyone. In fact, you were the only one to ever see him in the vulnerable side that came with intimacy, the only one he would ever want and trust to either lay beside his naked body, or willingly allow to leave a mark on his scarred flesh. Taste his muscles. Drink his blood.

He used his free hand to touch his lip, and found blood there. You licked your own, bright crimson and wet.

When he looked at you again, you wondered if you had finally ruined him for anyone else forever, and he made sure to paint both your faces red with a kiss, while he made you cum on his fingers.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

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pearynice · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie doesn’t like spending time away from Steve.

He’s fine during the day. He can do his job and chat with his coworkers and do what he needs to do without thinking too much on it, but there is nothing in the world that he looks forward to more than being able to come home every evening to the love of his life. Nothing more gratifying than being the person that makes Steve smile when he walks through their front door. No better feeling than Steve welcoming him home.

So call it unhealthy, call him whipped or codependent or whatever else, but Eddie doesn’t like spending extended time away from his boyfriend. Maybe it was the more-than-one near death experience, the nights they spent in hospital waiting rooms, not allowed to be at each other’s bedside, but being away from Steve, especially at night, makes him anxious. Makes his heart rate pick up and his palms sweat, makes him ruminate on whether or not Steve is okay.

So Eddie hasn’t exactly been sleeping. Or eating all that well. Not for the past three days, at least. Because Steve is at a teacher’s conference in Chicago for the week, only leaving under Eddie’s profuse and continued promises that he’d be fine. That Eddie can survive a week without him.

Which he can. It just doesn’t mean it’s exactly pleasant. Especially today. Because Eddie has the day off, and there’s not much to distract him from the gaping, Steve-sized hole in it.

He starts by doing the laundry. Washes their sheets. Washes every throw blankets and every towel, moves onto the kitchen while the washer rumbles and does all the dishes. He goes on the truly spiritual experience of cleaning their dishwasher. Which, why must things that do the cleaning need to be cleaned? He scrubs the grime from the shower and wipes the spit from the sink, vacuums the rugs and wipes down the windows, organizes their pantry and cleans out the fridge.

By the time he’s done his fingers ache. His back smarts from where he spent too long hunched over their tub, and still he misses Steve.

Who is coming back tomorrow. Late in the evening, sure, but realistically Eddie only needs to survive another 30 hours.

Which is far too long.

He considers baking something. Like those those blueberry muffins Steve likes so much, but Eddie just knows by the end he’d have shitty muffins and a dirty kitchen.

So he tries to read. Tries to play guitar and write some songs, tries watching TV and listening to music, even tries going on a walk to pick up some dinner he knows he won’t eat, finally taking Steve’s advice on fresh air to heart. But as the clock ticks on, the itch under his skin only gets worse.

Not even their nightly phone call helps.

He can tell Steve knows something’s up, keeps reminding him he’ll be back tomorrow, that it’s just one more night, because despite Eddie’s best attempt at deflection Steve knows him far too well.

“Tomorrow.” Steve reminds him, again, at the end of their call.

“Tomorrow.” Eddie repeats. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Eddie misses his boyfriend.

He tries to sleep. Can’t, of course. He tosses and turns in his bed and then tosses and turns on the couch with the TV humming staticky with whatever late-night garbage he has it on.

And he just—has to do something. Keep occupied until the sun comes up and he can go to work and lose himself in whatever car some idiot brought in because he didn’t change the oil. Keep his hands busy enough to keep his mind busy, too.

He sits bolt upright. Remembers, suddenly, the bleach and hair dye he’s almost positive Robin left here.

It doesn’t take him long to find. He’d organized them, without even realizing, nestled them between all of Steve’s bottles and jars and potions.

Never one for instructions, Eddie remembers Steve mixing the bleach with something else before he smeared it over Robin’s hair.

It was white. He remembers that much. Thick and gloopy. Like… conditioner?

He mixes the two together in an old Tupperware with a toothbrush, the smell sort of making his eyes water.

He can’t see much of the back of his head, but he’s just getting the ends, anyways.

Eventually the toothbrush becomes cumbersome, and he massages the last of it in with his fingers.

He’s pretty glad that part goes quick because after a minute he can feel his cuticles begin to burn.

He remembers Steve wrapping Robin’s hair in a plastic bag, and he finds one, eventually, has to fish out a crumpled receipt but sticks that over his head. And waits.

He forgot about the waiting part. That he’d have to sit here while the bleach did its thing and then again when he puts on the red.

He sits on the toilet with the lid down, picking at his firey cuticles. The clock in the hallway reads nearly 5 a.m., which means Eddie has at least four more hours to kill.

He goes through their drawers again, wondering if Steve maybe has a different color hiding around. He thinks green would be cool. Maybe pink.

But Eddie doesn’t find another color. He finds, instead, his sewing kit. And he thinks of all the goofy tattoos his has. The goofy tattoos he gave himself. His dice. His Tree of Gondor. His triceratops. And, really, how it’s a shame he hasn’t gotten one for Steve.

He knows what he’s doing and where before he even has all the supplies, snapping a ballpoint into a small dish and sterilizing the needle with his lighter. He shaves his inner thigh and washes out the bleach from his hair, which is a little underwhelming, honestly, having done little to lighten his dark locks.

He puts the red in regardless, puts his plastic bag hat back on and gets to work on his thigh.

And that’s how Jeff finds him. Appearing, in Eddie’s bathroom doorway, two coffee cups in hand. He takes in the plastic bag, smeared with red, on his head, Eddie’s bald and inky leg.

Eddie has no idea what time it is.

He looks down at himself. “I think Steve is… 86% of my impulse control.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything. Just rests the coffees on the sink and crouches to look at Eddie’s fresh ink.

“Is that… hairspray?”

“Three puffs!” Eddie answers, a little deliriously, and dips the needle back into the ink to start the third said puff. “How’d you get in here?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the needle.

“How do you always forget you gave me a key?” Jeff snorts, and then, a little softer, adds, “Steve asked me to swing by before your shift today, you know. Bring you some food.”

Eddie’s gaze flicks to the coffee as he dips his needle in again. “I only see caffeine, here, Williams.”

Jeff’s quiet for a moment before, “how about you finish that up, wash that dye from your hair, and then I’ll give you the food?” Jeff’s voice is still all gentle and obnoxious, and Eddie resists the urge of poking him with the needle.

But Eddie’s almost done with the last puff, anyways, and… breakfast does sound nice.

“‘M almost done.” He mumbles.

Jeff sits on the bathroom floor, sipping his coffee and watching Eddie finishes. Then he helps him untangle the plastic bag from his hair. Then makes sure whatever soap they have is unscented, makes sure whatever Eddie’s about to slather all over his thigh won’t turn it septic.

Damn paramedics.

In the shower, though, Eddie’s exhaustion starts to creep up on him. Four days with little sleep makes his eyelids droop in the warmth. Makes his shoulders sag as he washes the dye out of his hair. Makes his limbs heavy as he cleans his new tattoo, which, looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself.

A can of hairspray. Three puffs.

Eddie towels off, only a little disappointed that the dye didn’t do much. He can see it, a little, but only if the light hits it just right.

Jeff’s waiting for him with a greasy breakfast sandwich and coffee, and Eddie bites into it before he’s even seated, moaning at the taste.

“Jesus.” Jeff mutters, “let’s wait until Steve gets back for that, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t have the energy to bite back, just takes another bite before he swallows the first. “Fank ‘oo,” Eddie grunts, word garbled around egg and sausage and cheese. He swallows. Looks down at his hands. “For.” The skin of his inner thigh is pink. “Everything.” He takes another bite.

Jeff smiles. “And miss whatever disaster just happened in your bathroom? Not a chance, Munson.” He puts down his coffee cup. “I did call you in sick from work today, though. Just so you know.”

Eddie drops his sandwich. “Jeff!” Egg flies across the table. “What the fuck!”

Jeff raises his eyebrows and dusts Eddie’s food from his shirt. “You can barely keep your eyes open. I’m protecting you from dropping a car on yourself during a tire rotation.”

Eddie swallows, hands already twitching, “dude. I’m gonna go insane here by myself.”

Jeff raises his other eyebrow.

“More insane.” Eddie corrects. His leg starts to bounce.

“Good thing I’m gonna be keeping you company, then.” Jeff leans back in his chair, picking up his coffee and tilting the styrofoam at Eddie. “Movie marathon?”

Between he and Steve they only have about three decent movies, but Eddie finishes his sandwich on the couch as Jeff fiddles with the VCR.

The movie begins, and that wave of exhaustion returns. Floods him. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. He leans into Jeff’s side. Who isn’t Steve, but who smells nice. Like linen.

Jeff rests his cheek on Eddie’s head. “Sleep, man.” He mumbles.

So Eddie does.

He doesn’t know how long he was asleep. But he wakes to a hand in his hair. To fingers massaging his scalp, and he knows before he even asks. “‘Teve?”

“Hi, baby.” Steve whispers, his hand stills, and he pulls Eddie closer.

Steve feels so good. Warm and strong and here and here.

Eddie opens his eyes only to bury himself in Steve’s chest, his boyfriend falling back onto the couch to accommodate, his arms winding around Eddie’s middle.

“I missed you.” Eddie murmurs, and breathes Steve in, presses his nose into his sweatshirt and curls closer, fists his hands into Steve’s clothes and holds on tight.

“I missed you, too.” Steve sighs. He sounds tired. “Let’s… not do that again.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Never again.” He agrees.

Steve shifts, opens his legs so Eddie falls between them. “I played hooky on the all-hands luncheon today.” Steve admits, quiet. “Didn’t feel like sitting around with them all day when I could be here with you.” Steve’s hand returns to his hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “Did you… dye your hair?”

“N’ got a tattoo.” Eddie hums.

Steve giggles, and kisses the top of Eddie’s head. “I like it.” Steve’s fingers dance across his scalp, and Eddie never wants to go another night without this.

“I like you.” Eddie volleys back, and he feels Steve laugh, feels it rumble through his chest because Steve is here and he’s laughing and then there’s another kiss placed on Eddie’s head before Steve murmurs, “I like you too, baby.”

My permanent tag list 💗: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade

(Sorry taglist that you’re getting tagged late I’m still getting used to tumblrs new STUPID TAGGING SYSTEM)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #eddie munson whump #hurt/comfort #yall idek what this is i saw another tiktok and thought:#yes #yes this must now be a fic #also apologies for any errors i wrote this today while at work so #i hope you like itttttt #leigh writes #also in case anyone is curious why it didn’t work is because Eddie used CONDITIONER instead of developer #developer opens your #hair cuticle and allows the bleach to permeate your hair #but our boy used conditioner so it didn’t really do anything #for the best tho

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hxxsxxng · 7 months ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy

「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader

「synopsis」 : read the preview here

「word count」 : 15.3k

「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost

「authors note」 : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you

「taglist」 : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun-deactivated20241118 - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyuen - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @heeseungsbm

It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong.

Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.

I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”

“Oh, no I can’t think of anything.” “Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”

Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.

Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I don’t even know how many times this month I’ve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isn’t worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.

I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. “Hey princess” he greeted me.

I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. “What has you in a good mood all of a sudden” I ask suspiciously.

“Well since I got off work early, I figured i’d come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recently” he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. “You didn’t need to do that Jake.” “Oh yes, I did. You haven’t been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about you” he says.

Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I can’t really argue with him over it.

“And besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you instead” he adds.

I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. “It smells good” I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.

“So how was your day Jake?” I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, “Not too bad. What about yours?”

“Same shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.” I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.

“Well I am glad it’s Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekend” he attempts to comfort me but at this point i’m too tired.

“I guess.” I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jake’s job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, I am not going to force you.” I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat it’s just that I’m really stressed and I don’t want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over again”

“Look at me” he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. “I promise I will never get tired of listening to you” he reassured.

There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I don’t understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. “Thank you” I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. It’s kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldn’t bring myself to.

I stand up from the table and wash my plate. “I don’t know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as always” he sneaks up behind me. “You don’t look too bad your self Jakey” I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.

I decided maybe tonight I won’t rot away in my room. It’s a Friday night, I’ll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.

Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.

“What were you wanting to play?” he breaks the silence. “I was thinking we could play some Mario Kart” I suggested.

“Yeah we can, but you already know I’m gonna kick your ass”. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~~

He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I don’t know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really don’t remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesn’t snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasn’t shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I can’t help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldn’t hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.

I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but it’s only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isn’t awake by now. I won’t bother him. It’s probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jake’s body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesn’t help at all.

I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s my mom. I guess I hadn’t returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if I’ve eaten breakfast. When she sees I haven’t. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. “Just eat something sweetheart and take care of yourself” she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. “Mhmm thanks mom” I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.

As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.

I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.

Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.

"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isn’t at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.

Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I can’t remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didn’t have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jay’s house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.

Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.

For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.

Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.

When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.

Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.

"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. “I already got it out for you, and here is a glass of water”. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. “Thank you so much for taking care of me princess.” he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.

I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.

“What’s wrong Princess?” he slurs. “Do I look stupid or something?” “No Jake, you look great” I reply truthfully. “You just looked a little tired is all.”

Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. “I know you’re going to tell me I should rest more, but it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not in the same room.”

“Really? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?” He shrugs. “Don’t know babe. Just don’t like being alone.” I frown. That’s true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkers…me.

I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. “How’s your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?” Jake doesn’t respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

“Yeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldn’t be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimes” he answers with a slight edge in his voice. “It’s okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everything” I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.

“Why do you ask?” I guess he was caught off guard by the question. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen them, Australia isn’t in walking distance, ya know.” I try to cheer him up.

He sighs and looks down at the couch. “I guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesn’t matter though.” He shakes his head dismissively. “She’ll come visit whenever she can. I’m just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.”

“Oh…” I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. He’s always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hard—even harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he won’t be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.

I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."

Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.”

I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.

“Thank you sweet heart.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Our parents went to University together. That’s how they met. My mom met Jake’s mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.

Though we didn’t become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldn’t hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations weren’t as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.

Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although I’d never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasn’t interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, I’m sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.

Jake is a lot different when I’m around, a lot more caring and loving. I’m reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , it’s kind of obvious he’s lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I don’t really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.

When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.

A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.

Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.

Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.

The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.

Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey hey…" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.

A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. They’re red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.

Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. It’s very obvious he takes care of himself.

I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.

But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.

Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.

We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze

Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.

My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.

How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.

It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I don’t know how much better it could get.

My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.

I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.

Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.

I also can’t get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really don’t want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.

The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.

Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.

Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.

"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--

"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.

Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.

Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.

Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. “It’s nothing, really” I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. “What could I get started for you to drink” he says.

Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. There’s nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation I’m dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.

We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can’t stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which don’t really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.

Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I don’t plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isn’t really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.

I hate to admit, but when Jake isn’t home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we aren’t in the same bed.

Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.

I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.

I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didn’t appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.

I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isn’t here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.

Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?

Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.

“Why are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.” he worries.

“I wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morning” such a stupid explanation. “Speaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jay’s?” I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.

“Jay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.”

Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck. Shit. He’ll notice the way I react to his touches and I won’t be able to explain myself. Fuck.

“I thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here instead” he says with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh- oh I’m sorry.” I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. “No babe, please don’t go, I want you to stay” he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. It’s all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.

After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. “Please stay” he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. He’s so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.

His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose. “How did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?” he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection. He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jake’s body is practically burning me alive.

Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.

I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.

It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.

I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.

My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jake’s shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.

~~~~~~~~~

The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like I’m living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.

The end of the semester wasn’t going to be soon though, it’s barely September. I’ve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 o’clock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.

I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. “Ah thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tight” I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. “I missed you” he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.

After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.

“Fuck it” he says under his breath.

He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.

He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, “You can move if you want sweetheart”.

He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.

I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. “Feeling desperate, darling?” he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. “Shut up” I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.

He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at how gorgeous you are right now,” he says with pure adoration. “I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.

I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. “So beautiful” I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. “It’s all for you, baby” he cooed.

I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.

His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.

His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. “I have never done this before” I admitted. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer “No, Jakey, I trust you”

He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. “I have never done this either, we can learn together” he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.

The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. “Fuuuck your hand feels so good” I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.

I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Does it look too big?, we can stop now if we need to” he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said “No, I can take it.”

I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.

He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“I love the sounds of your whimpers” he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldn’t even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. “It tastes just as sweet as I imagined” he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?

His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadn’t seen a meal in a week.

“I want to taste you now.” I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.

I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. “God yes baby, that’s it” he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.

I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer” he whispers, making me smile.

He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t hide yourself, you look perfect darling” he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.

He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stop” “Please keep going” I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. “Ah baby go a little slower” I pleaded. I didn’t want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.

“Shit princess, you’re so fucking tight” Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didn’t move. He didn’t even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. “You ok babe?” he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. “Yeah, just give me a second” I replied, attempting to get myself under control.

I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You do not know how long I have been wanting to do this” He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.

Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.

“This is what I have been dreaming about” He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.

Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper “Jakey, it feels so gooood~~~~” with inconsistency in my breathing. Jake’s ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. “Oh my god it’s feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.” he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.

There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I don’t know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.

My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. “Fuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cum” I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. “Mmmmm yes doll, cum on my cock” he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.

Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. “You are all I have ever wanted” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.

After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. “Do you need help getting cleaned up babe?” he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. “Could we take a bath together?” I suggested.

A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. “Of course” and smiles. “I can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutes” He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really don’t know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that it’s over, we have to deal with the effects.

Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. “Come here sweetheart” he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.

The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. “Are you trying to make soup out of us?” I said jokingly. “I know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for baths” he chuckled.

I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.

I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. “God damn, you like it hot hot” he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.

“Oh don’t be such a baby” I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. “I don’t mind” he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.

Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, it’s going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. “Were you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about… that…?”

He’s silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah… why wouldn’t I” he hesitated.

“I mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.” he explained himself.

Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. “Why haven’t you ever told me how you felt?”

“Because I was scared on how it would change our friendship”…. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. “If I tell you how I feel, you might think it’s weird or something” he whispers into my ear. “No I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?” I say softly.

He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. “There is so much you don’t know” He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. “There is so much I want to know about you, darling” I reassure.

“Well for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friends” he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. “It scares me, and I’m sorry that I let it go too far. I guess it’s because I’ve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fast” he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.

“You have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? I’ll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to me”. I caress his face with my hands.

A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.

My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I don’t know if it use from sweat or from water. “Jakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we don’t sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so long” I started ranting.

“When you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isn’t possible.” he continues, his voice cracking.

“Making love?” I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. “Be quiet” he pushes back. “I’m just joking, but I agree”

He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. “We should get to bed” I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. “You better not get water all over the floor, Jake” HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.

He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. “I am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some rest” he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We weren’t scared but we felt like we should wait.

We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.

“Have everything?” He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. “I think so” I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jake’s mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say “9 rows down from the south enterance” she explains. “Thanks mom, see you in a sec” Jake says about to hang up the phone. “Thank you Mrs Sim” I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.

We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jake’s direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.

Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. “Where is dad?” Jake questioned his mom. “He is getting worse…. he wasn’t able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last night” she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. “Oh” We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.

The mood in the car ride home was off. I don’t know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesn’t deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.

~~~~~~~~~~

I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.

Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.

Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.

Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.

Jay isn’t the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I can’t be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jake’s relationship with alcohol won’t be healed in a split second.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jake’s house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jake’s mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.

“Hey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, it’s my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keys” She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jake’s room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. “Jake! Jake get up now we have to go” I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.

The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. “He slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape before” she says with tears forming in her eyes.

I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I don’t think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing we’re starting to get better. After that I couldn’t stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldn’t end up killing us.

After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasn’t going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.

“He will be okay, I promise” I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasn’t spoken a word since we have gotten here.

“You know…. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the days” she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. “I was so excited with him” she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.

Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. “It’ll all be okay, Jake, don’t cry” I assure him. “It won’t, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him… it hurts” “There is still a chance that he will make it Jake, don’t give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for him”

He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. “Shh its okay, I am here” I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.

We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.

Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life can’t just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.

We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasn’t taken a break either… no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.

Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.

Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.

~~~~~~~~~~

When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely. Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.

“Please promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feeling” she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. “I promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, don’t worry. You have other things to worry about” I reassure her pulling her into a hug.

Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. “Yes you’re such a good girl” he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.

“Please text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.” said his mom. “Of course” we pulled her into one last hug. “I love you guys” she sobbed “I love you too” we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.

We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.

Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. “I am really worried about her… my parents have been together for so long I can’t imagine how she would react with out him” he cried into my arms. “Your mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.” I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.

I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ‘rest’ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasn’t talking my ear off the whole time. I don’t mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.

We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. “Jakey we’re here” I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

We make way up to the door, he didn’t bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didn’t ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.

I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.

He didn’t seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didn’t seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. “Thank you” he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jake’s life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.

Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldn’t figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldn’t end up being too much.

Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.

Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.

“Hey did you even see who it was? What if it was important” I question his instinct to end the call. “Fine let me look” he groans.

He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen ‘Mom’ is what it read. “Answer it!” I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.

Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. “Hello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?”

“I am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speaker” she said.

“You’re on speaker” I informed her.

“Jake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake… They saved him.” His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.

Jake’s face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.

“Baby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so much” he claimed.

Jake couldn’t even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. “I love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soon”

He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.

~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.

His parents kind of picked up on me and Jake’s relationship, and didn’t question why I was wanting to sleep in Jake’s room and not the guest room any more.

We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.

“Tell me Jake, do you believe in fate?” I questioned lowly.

He looks somewhat startled. “Y’know, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I do” he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah I think I do too”

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anon-188 · 16 days ago

Note

Could you write something like really angst with aj where like he went on a heist and she thought he was dead and like he apologises on his knees and then some like soft slow smut where he just keeps kissing her and apologises???? Thx

pairing: AJ x f!reader | genre: angst ❤️‍🩹 | wc: 2.3k

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), strong language, emotional hurt/comfort, implied (but false) character death, panic attack symptoms, bruised!AJ (light), heavy angst, crying, soft!AJ, unprotected sex, heist/robbery mention, gun violence (briefly mentioned).

a/n: if you were trying to emotionally ruin me, congrats—you succeeded. but seriously, thank you so much for requesting this!! i hope you like it <3

also… wrote this while listening to code blue by the-dream. yes, i cried 😭

It was a typical Tuesday morning.

You had your shift at the diner—the one just a few blocks from the apartment you shared with AJ. Same regulars, same buzz of the overhead lights, same smell of burnt coffee and old grease that clung to your clothes no matter how many times you washed them.

And AJ, well… he had a heist planned. Bank job. No details. There never were. That was part of the deal.

He just kissed you—a little longer than usual. Told you he’d be careful and that he’d see you later. No real goodbye. He didn’t believe in those.

And of course, you didn’t love what he did—hated that it was unpredictable, that it came with too many unknowns and too many risks. But AJ had never given you a reason to doubt him.

He always promised to come home—and he did. Every time.

By now, it was midday. The diner was packed, lunch rush in full swing. Plates clattered in the kitchen, silverware scraped across plates, and someone at the counter was complaining about their toast being cold. You were in the middle of pouring a fresh round of coffee when the flicker of movement on the mounted TV caught your eye.

You glanced up—just for a second.

Breaking News flashed across the screen in bold red. You almost looked away, used to the noise of it by now. But then you saw it.

Outside of a bank. Police cars. Barricades.

A robbery.

Your stomach dropped.

You grabbed a rag and started clearing a nearby table, trying to play it cool as you leaned toward one of your coworkers. “Can you turn that up?” you asked, your voice low, like you were just curious.

She didn’t question it. Just grabbed the remote and nudged the volume up.

The anchor’s voice filled the room, crisp and too calm.

“We’re following a developing situation in downtown LA, where a five-man crew has attempted to rob First National Bank. Law enforcement has confirmed that the suspects are still inside, currently refusing to surrender. There are reports of multiple hostages. No demands have been made.”

Five.

Your heart gave a painful thud. AJ. Gordon. John. Jesse. Jake.

No. No. It wasn’t them. Couldn’t be.

There were a lot of five-man crews. A lot of banks. You clung to that logic like it could hold back the panic rising in your throat.

You stacked dishes with shaking hands.

“Coming in now… it appears shots have been fired. Officers are returning fire. We’ve just received confirmation—open exchange between the suspects and police.”

The footage shifted. Camera zoomed on gunfire erupting from the bank entrance, officers ducking behind vehicles, smoke and shouts and flashing lights in the distance.

Your movements slowed, heart hammering, as the anchor continued.

“We’re hearing now that the crew has been taken down. All five suspects have been neutralized. We repeat—all five suspects are down. No hostages harmed.”

The stack of dishes slipped from your hands and hit the floor hard, porcelain shattering into jagged pieces that rang throughout the diner. The sound turned heads, but you hardly noticed. You stood there for a second, frozen, until your coworker rushed over to help.

“I’ve got it,” they said gently, crouching down with a towel, but their voice felt far away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, though the word hardly formed on your tongue.

Your body was already moving before you registered the decision. You pushed through the swinging door to the back, grabbed your phone with fumbling hands, and bolted through the alley exit. The warm air hit you in a suffocating way, but you didn’t stop. You dialed his number with shaking fingers.

Once. No answer.

You tried again.

Still nothing.

By the third call, the tears came—hot, blinding, unstoppable. You pressed the phone tighter to your ear, willing it to connect, trying to hold yourself together in the space between each ring. But the signs weren’t looking good. Not this time.

A few hours had gone by, and with each passing minute, your heart broke a little more. You sat on the couch, eyes flicking between your phone and the TV, trying to focus on the news, hoping for something—anything—but nothing new had come in. Just recycled footage. The same looping clips of the scene. The same headlines.

He would’ve called by now.

You knew that like you knew your own name. He always did, even when he couldn’t say much. Even when he knew he shouldn’t. He always found a way to let you know he was okay.

But this time… nothing.

It felt like your body had finally caved under the weight of it all. You doubled over where you sat, arms wrapping around your middle like you could hold yourself together. But the sobs still came, raw and heaving, until your whole frame shook. You pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound, but it barely helped. You didn’t want to fall apart, but it didn’t feel like a choice anymore.

And it was like that for hours. One minute, your tears came soft and silent, slipping down your cheeks in slow surrender. The next, you were gripping a pillow and gasping through it, the ache rising too fast, too sharp. Sometimes you’d pace the apartment, aimless and angry. Other times you’d just stare at the door, wishing it would open.

The sun eventually dipped below the skyline, the light shifting. Outside, the world kept going, headlights flashing past, voices trailing down the street, but inside—your world had stopped.

Just like that.

Hours later, somewhere, somehow, you’d found the strength to take a shower—an attempt at a distraction, at pretending things were okay for just a few minutes. But nothing could quiet the ache lodged in your chest. Nothing could stop your mind from spinning.

And then—

A noise. Loud. Something clattering.

You stilled, water streaming down your back, breath caught.

Another sound followed. Something heavier.

Without thinking, you twisted the knob off and stepped out, water dripping from your skin as you grabbed the nearest towel. You barely dried off, too focused on the pounding in your ears. Your hands trembled as you pulled your clothes on, movements fast and uneven.

You opened the bathroom door slowly, careful not to make a sound. The space was quiet. Eerily so. You crossed the room, heart thudding in your chest as you reached for the bedroom door.

Just as you opened it, you were met with a figure on the other side.

AJ.

You let out a soft yelp, startled by how suddenly he appeared.

His hands came up instantly, breathless. “It’s me—hey, it’s me,” he said, voice low, urgent. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He was drenched in sweat and dirt. Clothes disheveled, shirt clinging to him. His jaw was bruised. There was blood on his knuckles.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Then the tears hit.

Your shoulders shook before you could stop them, and your knees almost buckled as the relief finally broke through. You didn’t even realize how hard you were crying until AJ’s hands reached for you.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, murmuring apologies over and over between shallow breaths.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You clung to him for a beat, the shock keeping your limbs stiff before your hands pushed at his chest, not to shove him away—just to breathe, to see him.

“Where were you? What happened?” you asked, voice breaking mid-sentence.

AJ pulled back slightly, eyes red-rimmed, jaw tight. “The job went south. Another crew showed up. Same bank.”

You blinked, confusion crashing into you. “But the news… they said five. I thought—”

“It wasn’t us,” he cut in, shaking his head hard. “It wasn’t us.”

Tears kept falling, faster now, sharp and wet across your cheeks. You hit his chest once—not hard, just enough to make him feel it.

“Why didn’t you call?” Your voice cracked. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I lost my phone, baby.” His voice dropped, rough and hoarse. “It was a fucking mess. I’ve been running for hours. The cops were everywhere—I just—I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, another wave of tears slipping free before you could stop them. “I… I thought you were dead,” you whispered, voice wavering as the words finally spilled out.

AJ’s brows furrowed, the pain in your voice hitting him like a punch. You saw it flash through his expression—tight, sharp, like he’d give anything to take the last few hours from you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Again. Like the words weren’t enough but they were all he had.

You didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. The tears kept coming, harder now, burning your cheeks as your body started to fold in on itself.

That’s when AJ dropped to his knees in front of you.

His hands found your hips gently, thumbs skimming over the hem of your shirt. He looked up at you, eyes dark with remorse.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said again, more desperate now. “I swear—I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t crying. But it was written all over him—in the way his hands pressed into your sides as if he were anchoring himself to you.

The moment he saw another tear slide down your cheek, AJ reached for your wrist, pulling you gently toward him.

He drew you in until your body tilted forward, leaning into him, your hands braced lightly on his shoulders. He didn’t let go.

"Don't ever do that again," you said, the words catching in your throat as the tears finally began to slow.

“I mean it.” Your voice trembling with the leftover fear that hadn’t yet left your body. “I don’t want to—I can’t—I thought I lost you.”

AJ stood, cupping your face in his hands. “I’m here,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

He pressed his forehead to yours as he murmured, “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

You nodded, lightly.

“I’m here,” he said again, quieter this time. Like it had to be said twice to make it real.

You didn’t answer. You just leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that said everything you couldn’t.

His lips moved slowly against yours, warm and weighted, thumb brushing along your jaw as the kiss deepened.

You pulled him closer, arms looping around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. Your body pressed into his like you were trying to make up for all the time you thought you’d lost.

He moved with you, guiding you back into the bedroom, never breaking the kiss for more than a breath.

There, in the soft light, you tugged at his shirt while his hands slipped beneath yours, fingertips gliding over your skin. Clothes came off between kisses, slow and tender. Each movement was careful, but full of urgency. Not rushed, just needed.

His shirt hit the floor. Yours followed. His fingers grazed your hips as he helped ease your pants down, and you reached for his belt, working it loose while he pressed his lips to your shoulder.

As you moved to the bed, he laid you down gently, your back sinking into the sheets like they had been waiting for you both. The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as AJ climbed in after you, settling between your legs.

He kissed you again, lips lingering before he trailed them down, warm and reverent. He dropped a line of kisses to your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest. You felt his breath against your skin, felt the way he paused at your stomach, his hands smoothing over your sides with a touch that was apologetic.

When he moved lower, intent clear in the way he kissed just above your thigh, you stopped him, fingers threading into his hair.

He looked up at you, eyes soft, searching your face.

“I just want you,” you said, your voice quiet but sure.

He nodded, then began to crawl back up your body, never breaking eye contact.

His lips met yours again, deep and full, as he reached down between you, lining himself up.

He entered you slowly, letting your body take him inch by inch. Your hands slid over his ink-covered back, nails slightly digging in. His forehead pressed to yours, eyes closing as he sank into you, a shaky breath tumbling out of him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words barely brushing your skin as he hovered over you, voice rough with guilt.

You wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders and pulled him closer, pressing your chest to his, your mouth to his neck. You didn’t need to speak. Your body said it for you.

Your back arched to meet him as he rolled into you with rhythm, dragging against every tender place inside you.

He filled you completely with each pass, pulling out just enough to make you feel the loss before sliding back in, deeper, smoother, with a groan he buried into the side of your neck.

His hands never left you. One stayed on your waist, holding you. The other slid along your ribs, your breast, your neck—touches that soothed as much as they worshipped.

“I’m sorry,” he said again between thrusts, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry I scared you. I was—I was just trying to come back to you. I’m sorry.”

His hand slid up, cradling your jaw as he kissed you between movements—sweet, aching kisses that landed on your lips, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

You felt the apology in every push of his body against yours. He was deep, slow, focused only on you. On making it up to you. On being here. Fully.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as his pace stayed steady, his breath catching every time you tightened around him.

Every thrust was a quiet plea. Every kiss, a promise.

He was here.

And he wasn’t going anywhere.

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rollinouttahere-writes · 7 months ago

Note

Yandere Frankenstein's Creature Zoro x blind baker reader

The amount of yearning in my heart while writing this was unreal. Oh, to be a humble baker in a cozy cottage with a misunderstood monster husband. I will probably come back to this to add more later.

Blind Faith

Frankenstein's Creature Zoro x Blind GN Reader

6k words

Summary: Life as a lone baker is difficult, but you luck out one morning when a stranger offers to do some work for you in exchange for food. Set in 1820's America.

Warnings: yandere if you squint but Zoro is subtle so it largely flies under the radar from reader's perspective, mentions of serious illness and death common to the era

Like many mornings, the sensation of sunlight filtering in through the windows and warming your face was what stirred you from your sleep. For a moment, you bask in the warmth of it while nestling deeper into your quilts as the crisp autumn air nips at your nose. You take a deep breath, then force yourself to rise from your bed. If you were going to get anything accomplished today, you needed to get up and get the fire going in the beehive oven outside now.

Before even attempting to get yourself readied for the day, you trudge outside to start the fire. Wind blows through your hair and whips at your clothes. It’s got some force behind it, but not to the point of being a hindrance. The path to the oven has long since been memorized, and your hand instinctively reaches for where the handle to the iron door is and pulls it open. You stick your hand in, and you’re happy to find that the embers are still warm. With any luck, you’ll be able to rekindle the fire and save yourself at least one hassle this morning.

You hurry back to the cottage and feel around for the tools you’ll need. Your fingers brush over the bellow and poker and latch onto them. You exit your home, stopping briefly at the porch to grab an armful of firewood. Much to your chagrin, you’re reminded of how low your firewood supply has gotten when you’re forced to crouch all the way down to even feel any. You need to chop some more, but you’ll worry about that later.

Once you’re back at the oven, you push in one log, then stir the coals and embers with your poker, listening closely as they crackle gently. You drop the poker and switch to using the bellow to feed the embers the precious air that they crave. They pop and crackle louder, and you can feel more heat coming out of the oven. Then, finally, you can smell the wood burning. You load the rest of the logs into the oven one by one, prodding the coals and wood to encourage the fire to spread until a strong wave of heat is emitting from the opening. Satisfied that the fire will be able to keep itself going on its own now, you close the door and head back inside.

A similar process is repeated indoors with your fireplace, and after you have both fires taken care of, you finally focus on getting yourself ready for the day. While you fasten on your clothing, you go through a mental list of tasks that need to be done. While you wait for the oven to warm, you’ll have to get the bread dough prepared now so that it’s properly risen by the time it’s hot enough. Before that, you need to fetch some water from the nearby stream. Then you’ll tend to the chickens and cows outside. At some point today you’ll need to find the time to chop firewood, but you have no idea where exactly such time is hiding. So much to do, so little time, and absolutely no help.

You’re startled from your thoughts by a loud, firm knocking at your door. It gives you pause. The townsfolk knew that you wouldn’t have anything ready for them so early. When everything was done, you would load it into a cart to sell it in the town square, so you had no idea why someone would be here now, or frankly, at all.

Another series of knocks rings out from the front door, this time pushing you into action. You go to the door, a short trip given the small size of your cottage, wondering who could be here and for what purpose. You pull open the door, ready to greet them, only for whoever is outside to grab the handle and close the door again. For a moment, you’re stunned into silence from the unusual action. Before you can ask what on earth they hope to accomplish by shutting your own door in your face, your visitor speaks through the door.

“Don’t come out. Just listen to me.” The voice is deep and masculine. Based on how high up his voice is coming from, you can tell that this man must be awfully tall.

The request is odd, but you choose to indulge him. “Very well… Might I ask what you’re here for? I just awoke, I don’t have anything baked yet.”

“I saw you outside just now. I can see that you’re low on firewood, and I was hoping you might be willing to trade me food in turn for me chopping wood for you.”

His offer comes as a relief to you. What a perfect occurrence this was! Now you wouldn’t be fighting to make the time to do this task yourself. While you didn’t have the money to pay someone for such work, you could easily spare some food for this stranger.

“It doesn’t have to be much, I’ll take table scraps. Anything. Please consider my offer.” The man’s tone took on a hint of desperation this time around, making you feel a twinge of guilt in your heart for causing him unnecessary stress.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t just give you scraps. I’ll make sure you have a proper meal and then some if you would do that for me.” You’re quick to assure him, not wanting him to think that you would be so unappreciative of his generous offer.

A sigh of relief comes through the door, followed by a dull thud from the top of the door, “Thank you, I promise you that I’ll cut as much firewood as you could possibly need. I just have one more request to make.”

“What would that be?”

The once desperate and wary manner of speech is gone, and has become much more stern, “You need to stay inside until I’m done, and you can’t look out the windows either.”

For a moment, you’re left speechless by his request, but you quickly find your voice, “I apologize, but I simply can’t abide by that. I have duties today that require for me to be outside. I-”

He cuts you off, now sounding frantic, “I’ll do those for you, too. Just tell me what to do.”

“Why are you so insistent on this? I can assure you that I won’t get in your way.” As much as you want to accept his help, his behavior was rapidly becoming ridiculous.

“You can’t look at me. I won’t do this for you if you see me.”

Again, you pause. Then you laugh. “Well, if that’s all you’re concerned of, then you can rest your heart.” You chuckle again and take his silence as your cue to keep talking, “You must not be from around here.”

“I… I’m not. I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

Rather than using your words, you take advantage of his guard being down to wrench the door open. You can hear him stumble and catch himself on the doorway. The wood of the porch and door creak loudly under his weight, and you can hear his breathing stop as he freezes in place. You face where you believe his face to be, hoping that you’re “looking” at him.

“It does have something to do with this conversation. If all that you’re fretting over is being seen, then you have nothing to fear from me. I am quite blind, as you -and only you- can see.”

You stand in the doorway, giving him a chance to take in what you said. You can tell that he’s very close to you now, likely hanging over you. Not only can you feel his body heat radiating off of him, but your senses are flooded by his scent. Overwhelmingly, he smelled like musk and sweat, as if he had just finished a long, laborious day of work. Alongside that, his smell reminded you of the woods. Earthy, but also carrying the distinct smell of moss. Under all that was a much shaper, less natural scent. It stung your nose and tickled the back of your throat like a potent alcohol, but stronger.

After a few seconds of silence between you two, you can feel the rush of air in front of your face, presumably from him waving his hand in front of it. A few more seconds passed, and you heard him quietly mumble, “You can’t see me…” It’s said as a statement rather than a question, but you nod in confirmation anyway.

Wood creaks again, and suddenly his voice is closer, now coming from above your head, “And it’s just you here?”

“That is correct. I’m not quite sure what it is you’re trying to hide by not being seen, but I can promise you that your secret is safe with me.” You make an effort to keep your voice jovial, not wanting to give this anxious man any reason to be doubtful or wary of you. You hold out your hand in front of you, “Now then, do we have a deal? Firewood for food?”

There is a moment of silence, then a surprisingly large hand encases yours. It’s rough and calloused, and you’re certain that you can feel scar tissue on it. His voice is quiet, “Yes, we have a deal.” He shakes your hand, and you find it to be a remarkably gentle handshake given his apparent size. It feels like he could easily shake your entire self with one hand if he so pleased, but he doesn’t. He releases you, and you can hear the doorframe groan as he pushes himself off of it, “I’ll get started on it now.”

“Wait,” Your hand blindly juts out to grab onto him, this time landing on his wrist. Your fingers ghost over what feels like even more scar tissue, and you briefly wonder if that is what he was so worried about being seen. You can’t be sure, but you figure it’s best not to call attention to it, so you continue, “I would like to know the name of the man helping me.”

“You… want to know my name?” The way he says it makes it seem like this is the first time he’s ever been asked for his name. You nod, gently encouraging him to share it. He pauses for reasons unknown to you, then speaks again, “Zoro… you can call me that.”

“Very well. Thank you, Zoro. Your help couldn’t have come at a better time. The ax is in the shed over where the chickens are. I need to go fetch some water now, but I’ll be around after that if you require any help.” With that said, you grab the pails by the door and slip past him to go to the stream.

The path to the stream has long since been memorized. As a child, you would tag along with whichever member of your family was sent to gather water that day. You even had your own much smaller pail to bring with back then so that you could participate. There were plenty of days where you would come back with an almost -and sometimes fully- empty bucket because you shook it about too much while walking, or because you tripped over an object you couldn’t see coming. Fortunately, you’ve gotten much better at keeping steady and catching yourself when you stumble over the years.

Insects and birds chatter and sing around you as you go deeper into the forested area behind your family’s home, and before long, you can hear the bubbling rush of water coming from the stream. You close in on it, taking smaller, more cautious steps to ensure you don’t walk past the bank and into the water. Once the ground becomes more soft and unsteady, you know that you’re close enough and hold out a pail while bending down, allowing the water to flow into it. You set the first one on the bank next to you, then fill the next. As soon as they’re both filled, you pick up one in each hand and begin the walk back home. The buckets are heavy now, but at least you don’t have far to go.

By the time you’re out of the woods, you can hear the familiar sound of wood splitting as an ax cuts through it. It’s quite nice to only be listening to such an act rather than doing it yourself for once. You’ve been alone for a few years now ever since your father passed from consumption. Your mother had died years prior after letting herself waste away when your youngest sibling suffered a fatal bout of scarlet fever. Your remaining siblings had filtered out one by one, searching for better opportunities elsewhere. While you missed them terribly, you couldn’t bring yourself to resent them for leaving. Life as a humble baker was a meager existence. Your father would often go to the city for long periods of time to work industrial jobs just to make ends meet while your mother baked for the town.

Your brothers and sisters tried to convince you to join them, no doubt fretting over how you would handle life on your own considering your condition, but you’re nothing if not resilient. Your parents taught you well how to survive on your own, and the local townsfolk are kind enough to help you with the odd task that does absolutely require sight.

From the sound of it, Zoro is doing just fine on his own, so you leave him be and go inside your home. The pails of water are left by the front door, and you go into the kitchen area to gather everything you’ll need to make bread. The oven outside still needs a couple of hours to reach the proper temperature, but the house is cold this time of year, so the dough will need extra time to rise.

Using a small bowl, you scoop out what feels like the appropriate amount of water for your task, then set it in the hot embers in the fireplace to warm up so the yeast will be able to thrive in it. While the water warms, you slip back outside to toss some more logs into the oven. You crouch down to grab the few remaining logs that should still be there from this morning, but you’re surprised to find the pile noticeably higher than you remembered it being. Had you missed some, or had Zoro really made this much progress in such a short time? You feel around a bit more, and sure enough, the log store is half full.

Well then. He’s certainly earning his meal. You’ll have to get started on his food as soon as the bread dough is taken care of at the rate he’s going.

Realizing that you’re working against the clock, you make quick work of hauling an armful of logs to the oven and pushing them inside. Once you’re back indoors, you mix together the flour and salt for the bread, then check the temperature of the water. Finding it suitable, you mix in sugar and yeast and leave it to activate. While it’s doing that, you make your way down to the cellar to grab some vegetables and meat. The cold air of the cellar chills you, prompting you to pull your clothes around you tighter. You use your apron to hold the vegetables you’ll need, then open the cask you had recently stored some brined meat in.

While you don’t know what Zoro’s tastes are when it comes to food, you assume he can’t be picky if he was begging for scraps. You think he’ll appreciate a hearty venison pie after working so hard.

You exit the cellar, and you’re about to go back inside when you hear your chickens milling about and clucking. You curse internally and rush into the house to drop the ingredients on the table. The surprise of Zoro’s arrival completely threw you off your usual schedule and your duties to the farm animals slipped your mind. You feel around for the bucket containing yesterday’s scraps, then make haste to the chicken coop. While the chickens primarily forage for their own food by eating the weeds and insects on the property, you know that they enjoy the scraps.

The chickens crowd around you as soon as they see the bucket, clucking excitedly and pecking at your shoes and clothes in what you’re going to assume is an expression of affection rather than impatience. You turn over the bucket and scatter its contents as best you can, instantly making the birds disperse so they can get their fill. While they’re happily eating, you open the panels on the coop to gather any eggs laid since you last checked and place them in the now empty bucket. There weren’t that many eggs today, but you have plenty in the home already, so it’s hardly a problem.

Once the chickens are tended to, you go over to the barn housing your cattle. They’re largely fed by grazing in the pasture, only being supplemented with hay during the winter. All that you need to do pressingly is let them out into the pasture. You’ll have to come out and milk the lactating cows later because they most certainly won’t let you do that until after they’ve had a chance to graze.

Climbing over the fence is an easy task for you after years of repetition. The bucket is left on the other side, and you find your way to the barn doors and unlatch them, allowing them to swing open. The cattle waste no time and exit the barn, lowing quietly as they walk past you with little acknowledgment. At least until you feel something bump against your stomach with some force. Enough to make you sway, but not so much as to lose your footing. You chuckle and reach down to pet the excitable calf.

“Good morning. Is this your way of telling me that I took too long?” You scratch the calf’s head as it moos and bumps against you repeatedly. You only had three calves this spring, but this one by far was the most friendly. She always stops to try and get you to play with her before catching up with her mother after.

She nudges you a few more times before running off to either find her mother or try to get the other calves to play. You leave the pasture and walk along the fence until you can find the bucket, then finally head back to your cottage to resume your baking. The shortest path back takes you past the stump where you usually cut firewood, and you can clearly hear Zoro continuing to plug away at the task.

As you draw near, you call out to your helper, “Is everything going well out here?”

The consistent chopping ceases. His breathing is labored, and he takes a moment to catch his breath before answering, “Yes, everything is fine.”

“That’s lovely. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. It’s hard to make time to do this myself.” You continue walking until you’re roughly in front of him. “I hope you like venison, I’m making a pie for you.”

You can hear his hands tighten around the wooden handle of the ax. “You… You’re making a pie? For me?”

His surprise confuses you. “Of course. That was our deal, was it not? You’re chopping my firewood, and I’m making you a meal.”

Zoro falls silent as he seemingly takes the time to mull over your words, then vocalizes why he was surprised, “I didn’t think you were going to make me something. I had expected to be given raw ingredients at best.”

“What kind of baker do you take me for?” Your hands settle on your hips and you huff indignantly. “I’m already making food as it is, why wouldn’t I take the time to make something for you?”

Grass crunches under his feet as he shifts between them, “I don’t have an answer for that. Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

The genuine confusion and remorse in his voice gives you pause and tugs at your heart. Just what has he been through to be so cynical towards people? You sigh and shift the bucket of eggs to your other hand, “Don’t apologize, I’m not truly upset.” You reach out and wave your hand around until it finds purchase on his arm, “I’m going to provide you a hot meal in exchange for your help. Not ingredients, nor table scraps, a meal. It will take some time for everything to be ready, but you’re welcome to come inside once you’re done out here until it’s finished, then we can eat.”

“We? You want to eat… together?”

“Yes? I don’t see why not. Unless you have somewhere you need to be, in which case I’m more than willing to let you take it with you so long as you bring the dishes back.” You hadn’t even considered that he may have other commitments to tend to.

For once, his answer comes quickly. His voice is almost bashful, “No! I mean, no. I have nowhere else to be. I want to eat here if you’ll let me.”

“Of course I will. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn't really want to. I look forward to you joining me for dinner.”

Zoro says something else just above a whisper, though you can’t quite decipher it. He clears his throat, then speaks at a more audible level, “Yes. I look forward to it as well.” You can hear the scrape of wood being placed on the stump to cut it and take that as your sign to leave him be, and the chopping of wood resumes shortly thereafter.

It’ll take a few hours for all of the food to be prepared, so you get started right away. The bread dough is mixed together and set on the mantle of the fireplace to rise. After that, you prepare some pie and tart crusts, then focus on prepping the various fillings for them. Most of the fillings were fruit based, but then you also had to prepare the venison pie separately.

A three-legged spider pan is set by the fire with some lard in it to warm up, and you fill a pot with water and potatoes and hang it over the fire with the pot crane. While waiting for the pan to warm and the water to boil, you clean and chop everything you need for the filling. Onions, parsnips, carrots, mushroom, and venison are all mixed together and seasoned in a bowl, then poured into the now sizzling pan with some beef stock. As it all cooks, your mouth waters from the onslaught of delicious smells within your house.

After a few minutes of searing the vegetables and meat, you remove the pan from the fire and scrape its contents back into the bowl. The filling is then poured into an empty pie tin and covered with the remaining crust. You carry it back to the fireplace and set your dutch oven over some hot coals before placing the pie inside. The lid is put in place and covered with additional coals and embers, and you leave it be to bake. Normally, you would use the beehive oven outside to bake your pies, but you chose to use the dutch oven today since the other one will likely be too full when everything else is set inside.

Once everything that you planned to sell was prepared, you begin carrying it out to the oven. The loaves of bread went in first, followed by the pies, and then the small tarts. Fire licks at your hands as you push everything in with your peel, but your skin has long since grown accustomed to such heat. You finish loading the oven and close the hatch.

You take a moment to listen to your surroundings and find that you can’t hear Zoro chopping wood anymore, so he’s likely finished by now. Dinner should be completed soon, so that works out well. You go over to where the log store is and stick your hands in to see how much wood he cut only to find it overflowing. Not only is it filled to the brim, you can feel logs placed on top of as well as around it. You had heard him coming and going to the log store while you were inside, but you hadn’t realized just how much it had added up until now. You’re beginning to question if one meal truly suffices for this much work. Perhaps you’ll let him take an additional fruit pie as well.

It’s unclear where exactly he is presently, but you’re sure he’ll make himself known sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you return to your kitchen to put the finishing touches on the meal. The pot containing the potatoes is drained and you set to work mashing them with some butter, salt, and pepper.

Heavy footsteps approach the cottage, stalling momentarily before climbing up the stairs. There’s a knock on the door, much softer now than it was this morning.

“Just let yourself in!” You call out over your shoulder.

There is some hesitation from Zoro, then the door is pushed open and he steps inside. The door falls shut behind him, and he remains close to it, not yet venturing into the small home. He’s an awfully sheepish man, you’ve noticed.

“Go ahead and sit at the table, dinner is almost ready.” The potatoes feel consistently mashed by now, so you switch out the masher for a serving spoon and walk over to the table to set it down.

Floorboards groan under each step he takes as he accepts your invitation to sit down. The legs of the chair scrape across the floor as he pulls it out, then sits down. You fetch some plates, mugs, and silverware to set the table with. Zoro remains silent as you get everything in place, so you decide to make an effort to converse with him, “Thank you for taking care of the firewood for me. I ought to be set for a while now.”

“It was nothing…” Zoro’s voice is quiet and somewhat tense.

“Oh, hush. You did a great deal of work for me, take credit for it.” You reach out to pat his shoulder reassuringly. Unfortunately, you failed to take his seemingly staggering height into account. Your fingers brushed against his chest, missing his shoulder by a wide margin. It would be polite to readjust and move your hand, but you’re struck by something. “You’re not wearing a shirt. Aren’t you cold?” Winter may not be upon you yet, but the autumn air was already quite chilly.

Zoro shifts in his seat, prompting you to pull your hand back. His fingers drum against the table as he answers your question, “Don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a single shirt? Oh, that won’t do at all, you’ll catch your death out there. One moment.” You excuse yourself to the other side of the cottage. Your home is one single large room. The kitchen that doubles as a living area is on the side closest to the door, while a couple of beds are pressed up against the wall on the other side. When the house was still full, your parents slept in one while you and all your siblings piled into the other. Now it was just you sleeping in your siblings’ shared bed while your parents’ bed was left empty.

Your father’s old clothes were stored under his bed. You crouch down and feel around until you can feel the basket they’re stored in. It’s pulled out, and you rummage through the clothes until your fingers skim over the coarse wool of your father’s shirt. You pull it out and run your hands over the article to confirm that it is indeed the one you were looking for. Nostalgic memories of clutching your father’s clothes while he carried you to and fro as a child flooded your mind, though you’re quick to dismiss them. Your guest is cold and you would hate to keep him waiting.

The basket is kicked back under the bed as you return to Zoro’s side and present him with the shirt. “Here, try this on. My father wasn’t quite as sturdy as you, but I’m hopeful that it will suit you.”

His hands brush yours as he takes it from you. The fabric rustles quietly as he pulls it on. After a moment, you hear him murmur to himself, “It’s warm…”

“So it fits? I’m relieved to hear that. You’re welcome to keep it.”

“You are okay with that?” There is an element of surprise to his voice.

“I am. I’m sure my father would have wanted his old clothes to find further use. It is yours to keep.” You place your hand on his shoulder, successfully this time, and squeeze it gently. The fabric of the shirt is taut on his frame, but you assume it must fit at least somewhat comfortably if he wants to keep it.

You release his shoulder and go over to the fireplace. The venison pie should be ready by now, and you don’t want to make him go hungry any longer than necessary. You use a hook to pull the lid off the dutch oven, then pull the pie out after covering your hands with rags. The pie is placed at the approximate center of the table. “I’ll get us something to drink, and then we can eat.”

The plot of land your family owns is rife with apple trees, so you’re never lacking in apple cider. You grab one of the bottles of alcohol from the cupboard, as well as something to cut the pie with, then return to the table. You feel for the mugs, then pour a generous serving into each. The plates are loaded with food next, with Zoro’s portion being particularly large after how hard he worked today. You set his plate in front of him, then sit down across from him with your own.

In the time it took you to sit down, he had already begun to eat. The speed with which his utensils scrape against his plate indicates to you that he was absolutely ravenous, as well as seemingly unbothered by how hot the food may still be. You eat your meal at a slower pace, enjoying the savory pie and potatoes. Making conversation now feels like it would be a wasted effort. Zoro is clearly not going to want to entertain one while he’s eating like a starved man.

As the scrapes and sound of chewing slow, then eventually stop, you speak up, “Was it to your liking?” The question is asked half in jest. Partially because he ate it in what felt like seconds, but mostly because you’re fairly certain that he hardly had a chance to taste any of it.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

The genuinity of the statement strikes your heart and warms it. A smile tugs at your lips. This was far from your first compliment on your food given your profession, but the sheer conviction and reverence in his voice made it feel different. You swallow your food, then respond, “I’m glad. You’re welcome to seconds if you’re still hungry.”

Much to your relief, he forgoes questioning you for once and simply helps himself to more. You can hear him resume eating again, though at a significantly less frantic pace. After a moment, Zoro clears his throat, “I wanted to ask something of you.”

“Yes? Is there something you need?” It’s relieving that he’s finally starting to be more forthcoming after getting some food in him.

“I… I don’t have anywhere to stay. I was wondering if you would allow me to sleep in the shed. I’ll work for it. I can do whatever you need me to do. I’ll cut as much firewood as you could ever need, I’ll hunt for you, do chores for you, anything.”

“The shed? Surely you noticed the hole in the roof.” You can’t see, but even you can feel the elements coming through where the roof caved in at.

“I won’t complain. Please… Please consider it. I swear on my life that I won’t burden you. I’ll stay out of your way.”

All that you can do is balk at his request. To be so desperate and destitute that you would plead and beg just to sleep in a dilapidated shed is a level of poverty that even your poor family hadn’t known. “I can’t in good conscience let you sleep in the shed.”

His protest comes immediately, laced with pain and desperation, “Please-”

“There is an empty bed in the home. If you’re willing to bunk with a stranger, I would allow you to stay here.”

The room falls silent, and then his voice shakes as he speaks again, “You’ll let me stay in your home? In a bed?” From the way he utters the words, you almost wonder if he’s never been permitted to sleep in a bed before. Your mind whirls with questions as to how such circumstances could occur, but you quickly realize that this moment isn’t suitable for such pondering. Zoro needs an answer, and it would be cruel, in your opinion, to make him wait for it.

“I recognize that it is unusual to offer this to a stranger, but you’ve been mild mannered thus far. That, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t struggling to maintain everything around here on my own ever since my siblings left. Your help would be deeply appreciated if this arrangement is truly what you want.” You’re certain that your siblings would have a conniption if they were aware of the deal you’re making right now, but they aren’t here. The only interaction you have with them anymore is when you get one of your customers to read aloud the letters they send you. It’s unlikely that they’ll ever even know of him.

Both of your hands are abruptly encased in two much larger hands. Zoro clutches your hands like a lifeline, “That is what I want. I’ll be in your debt if you allow it.”

“There’s no need for such dramatic language. It’s hardly a debt if you’re working for your stay.” You gently squeeze his hand back.

“You don’t understand what exactly you’re doing for me… it means more than you know.”

“Then I suppose we have a deal, don’t we?”

Zoro lets out a shuddering breath as his grasp on your hands loosens, “Thank you. You won’t regret this.” He relinquishes your hands fully, and his chair creaks as he settles back into it.

Dinner resumes in a comfortable silence. This is certainly an interesting change in your life, but you have faith in this person. Zoro seems like an earnest man who has faced more than his share of strife, but you think that he’ll fit in well around here. He’s definitely most skittish about being seen, but you’re hopeful that as time goes by and he becomes more comfortable that you’ll be able to introduce him to the locals. You think the socialization would do him some good.

But, that will come at a later date. The excursion you’ll make into town after dinner to sell today’s goods will have to be a solo trip, but that’s fine. You’ve done such a task more times than you can count. The only difference today is that you’ll have someone to come home to. For now, you choose to focus on your new company and feel thankful for the positive change that you’re confident he will bring to it.

#yandere one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece #roronoa zoro #yandere #reader insert #x reader #halloween event 2024 #nicemice34

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python333 · 2 years ago

Note

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.”

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago.

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late.

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath.

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left.

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?”

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening.

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind.

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me?

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece.

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking.

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?”

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment.

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?”

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—”

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.”

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath.

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again.

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—”

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear.

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it.

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.”

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?”

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?”

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.”

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?”

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.”

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?”

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?”

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.”

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?”

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—”

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too.

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet.

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?”

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed.

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…”

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.”

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.”

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth.

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?”

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…”

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.”

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away.

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before.

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed.

—

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates.

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows.

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you.

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly.

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well.

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one.

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head.

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more.

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back.

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.”

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—”

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together.

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin.

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit.

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.”

“You had the right to.”

“Sure I did.”

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.”

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.”

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

1K notes · View notes

riamaple · 20 days ago

Text

Life on Your Line (Ch. 15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Cursed to sacrifice your life to save another, you were never able to connect with others, always meant to drift before you could belong. Death was all you knew. Then, one day in Brooklyn, you saved a young man, and for some reason, you kept seeing him again. And again. And again. No matter where you went, across decades, you always found your way back to him.

He was forced to live to destroy, you were forced to die to save—bound together in ways neither of you could understand.

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending). Death and Dying. Self-Sacrifice (Immortality / Resurrection). Canon-Typical Violence / Description of Wounds. Suicidal Thoughts. Implications and References to Child Death, Suicide, Self-Destructive Behavior / Self-Harm.

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Word Count: 7.4k

CHAPTER 15: September 3, 2024 - September 7, 2024

The night was still, but Bucky’s mind was not.

Both light and heavy snoring filled the silence of the night, some muffled underneath blankets and jackets and whatever else the Howling Commandos could use for warmth. Despite being March, the Polish mountains were freezing, with frost covering every surface imaginable. Bucky could see his breath as he stared up at the tent, too tense to fall asleep. Too upset to doze off. Too… Well, maybe he didn’t know how he felt.

Did it make sense to mourn someone you barely knew?

But then again… That someone did save him twice.

Quietly, Bucky sat up, grabbed his rifle, and slowly stepped out of the tent, careful not to wake the others. The cold air immediately attacked his skin, sending shivers down his back as he slipped on his jacket. He then glanced around until he spotted a familiar figure, who was sitting on a fallen tree trunk on the edge of their camp, and he walked over with a wave.

“Steve,” Bucky greeted with a low voice, “go ahead and sleep. I got it.”

The blonde looked up, his hand no longer wiping his shield of its dirt and grime, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not your turn yet.”

“I can’t sleep, so you might as well.” He sat down next to his friend, holding his rifle in front of him. “At least one of us should be getting some shuteye while we have the chance.”

“Can’t sleep? After the day we had?” Steve let out a chuckle in disbelief. “That can’t be.”

“Well, it’s true.” Bucky slapped a hand onto his shoulder with a grin. “Go to bed, Steve. I got it.”

But rather than listening to his friend, Steve continued to sit still, making the dark-haired man roll his eyes. Knowing how stubborn he could be, Bucky let him stay as he began to clean his own weapon, flicking off hardened mud and lingering ash from the surface. The two were quiet for a while, trying to relax as much as they could in the chilly weather before Steve looked back at his best friend.

“How are your injuries?” he asked, observing how stiff Bucky’s movements were.

He shrugged. “Not great, but not horrible. My side still hurts, but everything else is healing fine. I swear, I’ve never had cuts and bruises come and go as quickly as they are right now.” He lightly touched his cheek, where a scratch mark was already fading. “I must be doing something right with my diet if I’m recovering this well.”

Steve chuckled. “What? You think what you’re eating is making you better faster?”

“I don’t know, man. I am a growing boy.”

“Shut up.” Steve nudged him, making the other laugh while he shook his head with a grin. “So stupid.”

“Hey—” Bucky smirked. “Is it all that stupid if I’m just repeating what my mom said?”

“Don’t bring Winnie into this.”

“I might write to her that you said—”

Suddenly, Bucky was lying on the ground, eyes wide as he stared at Steve, who had just shoved him off the tree trunk. The blonde man laughed. “Enough, you knucklehead.”

“Damn,” he stood up from the icy ground, patting the mud off of his worn-out uniform, “you and your super strength. You never did that before.”

“Well, I couldn’t.” Steve smiled. “Never was able to push you around like that.”

“Yeah, and I’d like it if you don’t make a habit out of it.”

Steve hummed, looking over Bucky once again as he plopped back down next to him. “You seriously not gonna go to sleep?”

“Like I said, I can’t. So,” he pointed at their tent with a raised eyebrow, “go. I can take it from here.”

But Steve didn’t move. Instead, he watched his friend closely, picking up on every little moment of tension in his face. Then he sat up straight, facing his friend more head-on. “Bucky, what happened to you back there?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“When I found you in that ditch, you were panicking over something.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened around his rifle ever so slightly before he let out a small huff. “Well, I almost did die after killing a small army by myself,” he said teasingly, though his frost-blue eyes didn’t find it funny. “You expected me to be laughing and smiling?”

“I expected you to be scared. Not…frantically looking around for something.” Steve tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What were you looking for, exactly?”

Bucky hesitated as his lips suddenly sealed themselves shut. This was Steve, his best friend of almost two decades. A man he considered his brother since the day he saw him—a scrawny kid defending his baby sister, Annie, from a group of bullies. He was his family, and the two never kept secrets from one another—never tried to hide anything crucial to their lives.

And yet, his lips were tight.

With a soft breath, Bucky smiled and shook his head. “I think I was just losing my mind earlier. I mean, the whole thing was overwhelming. That bomb launcher—whatever it was—thing that the HYDRA soldier was using? Almost got me multiple times.”

But it didn’t, because you pushed him out of the way and got burned—

“You just caught me at a bad time, Steve.” He squeezed his best friend’s shoulder with a gentle smile. “I swear. I’m fine.”

Steve gazed at him for another moment before finally nodding. “Alright. But the moment you get tired—”

“I’ll come and get you. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

The two chuckled together before Steve waved him goodnight, walking away to get some rest. The moment Bucky saw the super-soldier disappear into the tent, he let out a trembling breath and slumped his shoulders. He looked straight ahead, keeping an eye out for any suspicious movements while his mind continued to race.

He didn’t know how much time had gone by before he glanced down, staring at his palms that were lightly covered in dirt.

There should’ve been blood. Your blood—

He rolled his hands into fists and shook his head, turning his attention back to the woods. But no matter how much he tried to focus on spotting unusual activity, he kept thinking about the mysterious woman who appeared out of thin air and vanished into nothing.

There had been rumors as to what HYDRA was using as their power source—a magical artifact forged by gods, capable of destroying worlds upon worlds. Bucky first found the rumors ridiculous, saying that they didn’t live in a fantasy. But once he faced a weapon that shot blasts powerful enough to cause explosions, he began to think otherwise.

Maybe magic was real.

Maybe gods really did exist.

Maybe…angels did too.

Were you his angel? More specifically, his guardian angel?

Otherwise, how could you have saved him twice?

Bucky sighed, staring up at the night sky as if you were going to float down from heaven, wearing wings gifted by the gods. You weren’t wearing wings earlier that day, but you did wear a necklace that felt like a magical artifact to him.

“Rose…” he whispered to himself, remembering the little flower and inscription etched into the locket, longing to hold the jewelry and its owner again.

Slowly, Bucky turned his head to stare at the tent, where no one had moved since Steve went inside. His eyes were locked on it for a while, and eventually, he let out a deep breath.

It felt wrong to lie to Steve—to not mention your presence once. After all, it wasn’t just Bucky who was at your side in Brooklyn, crying for you to stay awake as you bled out on the street. Steve had been there too, yelling for somebody—anybody—to call for help before it was too late. They both watched you get carried into the ambulance and together learned that you had died before you reached the hospital.

Your name was Sherry.

And then Steve watched him fall to the floor, sobbing for it was his fault that someone was dead, and then joined him too. Both grieved for the woman they barely knew, yet had done so much for them.

And you did so much again: dying in the mountains to save Bucky’s life.

Bucky looked away from the tent, his throat tight with sorrow and eyes watering at the thought of the blood coating your body both times. And then he sighed.

He never kept anything from Steve, but he decided then that he wouldn’t tell him about you.

At least, not yet.

Maybe just for a little while, Bucky could allow himself to have you be his…

…And only his.

<><><>

You blinked, and blinked, and…

God, this was so annoying.

You let out the most exasperated groan before turning away from the shelves, where empty spaces lived at the top for the books against your chest. Your eyes drifted onto the broken ladder as you dropped the stack of novels onto the front desk, and then you pinched the bridge of your nose to push down your frustration. You really needed a ladder again, but you had been so frazzled by your current life that you hadn’t looked into a handyman or looked up brand-new rolling ladders. Some regulars had recommended getting a standard, metal ladder when noticing your broken one, and while you appreciated your customers’ concern and support…

A metal ladder would be so fucking ugly in your store.

As it was a weekday, there hadn’t been many people walking through your store—so much so that you let Mandy go home early for the day, letting her work on her novel in peace. You leaned against the desk with your phone in your hand, finally scrolling through a page of beautiful ladders, but also so expensive that you visibly winced at the prices. After a few minutes, you dropped your head onto your arm, grumbling at the countertop at how cruel the modern world was with overpricing everything.

Then the front door swung open, and you looked up to see a familiar face.

Your chest tightened, but you put on a small smile. “Hi, Bucky.”

He waved at you, looking around to see that you two were the only ones present. He paused briefly, a little flustered by the silence in the store, but then carried on to the front with a tiny grin. “Hi.”

“Back so soon, huh?” You stood up straight, a little bit tense in the shoulders, but carrying on like everything was normal between you and him. “What brings you here?”

He glanced around, eyes slightly heavy. “Came to buy another book.”

You tilted your head. “Oh, you didn’t like the one you got yesterday?”

“I did like it. I already finished it.”

“You…” You blinked back. “You finished it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah…? Why?”

“It was eight hundred pages.”

“I read fast.”

“Clearly. Well…” You crossed your arms, and despite wanting to be as distant as possible, you couldn’t help but ask about his opinion. “What did you think of it? Gotta admit, I was a bit surprised when you picked horror.”

He lightly smiled. “Why? Don’t seem like the horror kind?”

“I don’t know, honestly.”

He then chuckled, and the sound stopped you in your tracks.

You found yourself in the Smithsonian, sitting in front of the black-and-white video that played footage of Captain America and his best friend. You watched the two men laugh, smiling at each other as brothers who couldn’t be separated by death itself. And after watching that video for hours, you told yourself that one day, you would see Bucky laugh.

You gazed at him chuckling in front of you, and it felt like you were getting a warm hug. Slowly, you felt your face becoming warm, and you crossed your arms tightly across your chest.

But there was no pain in your heart.

“I’m not picky with books,” Bucky continued. “I did like it, especially with how well the twist was written. I did have to look up a few things while reading, though. Sometimes the characters would interact with something, and I’d have no idea what it is.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” he frowned, trying to remember. “A Game Boy?”

Suddenly, you let out a laugh of your own, surprising both you and Bucky. You quickly stifled it, your cheeks getting hotter as you cleared your throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

But he continued to gaze at you before grinning, his heart bouncing from the fact that he—an ex-assassin who was socially awkward—made you laugh.

He really did miss that sound.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind. I mean, I did miss a lot in the past few decades.” He then shifted a bit closer to you, leaning against the counter. “Did you have a Game Boy?”

You shook your head with a small smile. “I’m not much of a gamer. Always liked to read more than anything else.”

He hummed before catching the stack of books from earlier in his sight. Turning his head, he examined the books before gesturing at them. “Are those for sale?”

You nodded. “They are. They actually belong up…”

Bucky followed where you were pointing, staring at the top shelves on the far right side of the store. His eyes then fell onto the broken ladder. “Figured out what you’re doing with that yet?”

“Not really, no.” You softly sighed.

His eyes lingered on the ladder a second longer than you expected before he looked back at the stack of books. Then he stepped closer to them, inspecting the titles with curiosity. “Can I buy one of these?”

You blinked. “You barely even looked at them.”

“I don’t really know what books are good these days,” he said, grabbing one from the top of the stack. “Taking my chances.”

“You could always look up some book recommendations online,” you suggested. “There are hundreds of people who give amazing recommendations.”

He shrugged. “Sure, but from what I’ve seen so far…the internet is a nightmare. A lot of bad takes, idiots, and weird videos. Honestly, I think society is screwed.”

At that, you ended up laughing gently, finding the truth in his words refreshing, while Bucky looked up at you in awe. The way you laughed wasn’t the most familiar, but the lightness behind it erased a bit of the darkness within your eyes.

And your smile? He hadn’t seen it so genuine in a while. At least, not without tears in your eyes, and he adored that so much.

Slowly smiling, Bucky shoved away the temptation to ask you about your past—to sneakily dig into who “Avery” was—and raised the book towards you. “Can I?”

With a nod, you grabbed the book and rang it up while he watched you with a careful gaze. When you looked back at him, you didn’t feel like you were being interrogated or analyzed with his eyes—he was gazing at you with his heart on full display.

You passed the novel back to him with another smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he said, slipping the book underneath his left arm. “I’ll see you around.”

You waved at him. “Bye, Bucky.”

And when he opened the door and stepped out, he looked into the store, lingering just for a heartbeat before disappearing from your view. You continued to stand still, staring at where he was before letting your hand drop to your side. As much as you wanted to avoid Bucky—to stay reserved and be only “Avery” to him—you enjoyed seeing him in your store.

For once, he was just a person.

He wasn’t a man forced to be a killer, or a soldier whose humanity was burned away with electric shocks, or an assassin who broke for a mission without acknowledging his pain.

He was just your customer, living every day with an interest in books and a dry sense of humor.

After everything you’d seen him go through, it was nice to see him be so…human.

The complicated ache slowly seeped into your chest again, and you exhaled, setting a hand on the stack of books that was now one novel shorter.

<><><>

“So, there’s a war over resources too?” you asked, holding a coffee cup to your lips as Mandy frantically nodded.

“Yeah. But not only that—” she flailed her arms around in excitement, “the civilians slowly find out that they’ve been lied to, and that the government is rewriting history in real-time and silently erasing memories of what they already knew. So, in the end, what’s real and not real?”

You set the cup down with a wide grin. “You’re really thinking this through, huh?”

“I’m trying to worldbuild as much as I can. Shit, I just love it so much,” she giggled. “Sometimes, I just wanna work on worldbuilding and not have to worry about the plot at all. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You shook your head, ready to tease back right when the front door opened. You both turned to see Bucky walking once again.

But this time, you didn’t feel as anxious as before.

If anything…

Fuck. Were you excited?

You gave him a small wave. “Back again?”

Mandy glanced at you with a confused look while he nodded, his hands in his jacket pockets as usual. “Yeah. Looking for another book.”

“Another already? Did you finish the one from yesterday?” You raised an eyebrow, doubtful.

“Yeah,” he replied as if anybody could start and finish a seven-hundred-page novel in one sitting.

Mandy tilted her chin up. “Oh, which book?”

“Cosmo. Some psychological thriller.” He then made a face. “Very predictable, though.”

You bit your lip, your stomach churning a little bit. “Sorry.”

He turned to you, perplexed. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t pick the book.”

“Still, it was from the pile I had.”

He lightly shook his head, offering a small smile. “It’s fine. Bad writing is necessary. It helps people get better at storytelling.”

Mandy snorted. “Wow. Wise words, Sergeant Barnes.”

He laughed, making your heart do cartwheels with squeals. “I’m just saying whatever. And, Bucky is fine.”

Before you knew it, a smile was already on your face. Though you could see that he was still a little bit guarded, Bucky carried less weight on his shoulders, smiling at Mandy, who was still giggling at his words.

He should be questioning you. He should be staring you down.

But when he glanced over and met your eyes, you could only curl your lips more.

He gave you a quick nod and wandered off to the aisles, and you watched him until he disappeared from your sight. Mandy was watching both of you—the way he acknowledged you gently before leaving, and how you kept your eyes on him. You jumped when she nudged your side, and when you faced her, she had the biggest smirk plastered on her face.

“I’m just saying…” she started, voice so quiet that Bucky possibly couldn’t hear even with his super-soldier hearing, “he’s fine as fuck.”

She giggled when you lightly hit her arm. “Stop it,” you said, though she could see your face getting flushed.

“Hey, it’s a fact. Also…” She winked at you as she stepped away from the front desk. “You didn’t disagree with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but then your gaze fell to the floor as her words sank deeper into your heart.

It was true.

Bucky was beautiful.

Letting out a sigh, you stepped away from the front desk as well, resorting to walking around and see if any customer needed assistance or recommendations. You roamed the aisles, telling customers that you were around if they needed help. Eventually, you decided to go look at the broken ladder and see if there was any way to fix the issue yourself.

But when you turned a corner, you stumbled back upon seeing those familiar, frost-blue eyes.

“Hi,” you breathed, flustered that you almost ran directly into him.

But Bucky didn’t seem fazed. Instead, he raised a book towards you, the cover in full display. “Have you read this one?”

You took a look and nodded. “I have, actually. It’s a bit…intense.”

“What’s it about?”

“About a couple trying to survive a war. It was set during…uh…” you briefly hesitated, “World War II.”

“Oh.” Bucky blinked before pulling the book back to him, flipping it over to read the back.

As he focused on the novel, your eyes drifted to the side of his face—right where you had felt raised skin numerous times. But when you looked at his temple this time, there were some scars, but they were so faint that only someone who knew what he went through would notice. They weren't fresh or red, or actively stinging his mind at the moment.

They were remnants of his past, but also evidence that he survived.

After a moment, Bucky hummed and slipped the book underneath his arm. “I guess I won’t need to look up things as much this time,” he said, attempting to joke.

And the joke did somehow land, as it immediately took you out of the harsh memories of touching those scars. It made you lightly chuckle, relieved that he could still joke about exactly what he survived.

When the rhythm in your chest faded away, you glanced at the book under his arm and slightly widened your eyes from spotting another one. “Are you getting two books?”

“Might as well. I read too fast, apparently.”

“Were you always an avid reader?”

He paused, and you wondered if you had said something wrong. But just as quickly, he gave you a grin.

“I’m just trying to pick up on reading again,” he explained. “I read a lot when I was younger. Used to have a book collection so big, my mom begged me to slow down on reading or sell my books.”

“What did you do?”

“Neither. I was a rebellious kid.”

You let out a giggle. “Most rebellious kids tend to break stuff or yell at their parents. I don’t think reading is too bad.”

“It can be…” he smirked, “when your books end up underneath your parents’ bed without them knowing.”

“Are you serious?”

“I was running out of room.”

You both shared a laugh as he followed you to the front desk, where he passed his books to you. Once again, your fingers brushed against his, and it was just enough contact for your mind to start reeling to another life—a life you imagined for you and James, where you two could just live.

Not die. Not survive.

Just live.

But, even though you weren’t living out this imaginary life, seeing Bucky doing something normal—picking out books and chatting with others—made you wonder if it was possible to make your dream real.

You always told yourself you didn’t want to get hurt again… But what hurt more? Avoiding Bucky, or accepting him?

You didn’t know, but you did know something else.

As you watched Bucky leave your store with two books in his hand, a small part of you wished that it was you who was within his grasp.

<><><>

You tripped over your feet as you stepped into the bookstore, cursing under your breath for barely catching yourself. The afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a gentle glow on your store, but all it did for you was make the dull ache in your head worse. Your head still throbbed despite taking painkillers and staying in bed all morning—even the murmur felt overwhelming compared to the silence in your apartment.

It would be nice if the world would stop punishing you. It’s been over five years since you tried to—

Mandy, who was ringing up a customer, glanced up from the counter and gave you a quick wave with a smile that was tinted with worry. You smiled back, silently assuring her that you were okay, and walked past her to the back room where you dropped off your bag. You gently pulled down your sleeves to your wrist, careful not to show off any of the scars on your skin, and stepped back out into the rest of the store.

You moved a bit slower than usual, still feeling the headache lingering in your body, and were walking to the front desk when the door opened.

You paused, locking eyes with Bucky once again, and blinked as he immediately made his way towards you as if you were the only thing that mattered.

Well. Maybe you were.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice soft.

“Hi,” you replied just as softly, then you raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t show up yesterday.”

“You noticed, huh?” he said, a smile slowly creeping onto his face.

“Couldn’t help it.” You shifted on your feet. “You got good timing, though. I just got here too.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, standing up straighter as he crossed his arms. “Now? Late start, today?”

“Had to. Woke up with a terrible headache,” you explained lightly. “I couldn’t get up for a while.”

Then, you froze at the frown that appeared on his face, as it was full of the kind of concern a person would have for someone they’d known for so long. “Are you okay?”

Your heart stuttered at his sudden change in tone, your fingers twitching at the gentleness he carried. You slowly nodded, unable to fully process this side of him. “I’m okay. I just get bad headaches sometimes.”

He nodded but still watched you closely.

What was happening?

Every day he came in, you expected him to try to get the truth out of you. You always waited for the questions—the fire behind his eyes as he tried to get you to admit that you were indeed Rose—but instead, he’d walked in like someone who hadn’t lost someone important.

But this was Bucky. This was James Bucky Barnes.

This was your James. The man you had saved again and again, and in return, had made you feel alive too. This was the man who had lost you ten years ago but was now acting like what you two had didn't exist.

Did…Did he give up on you?

Why…

Why did that feel more painful?

Clearing your throat, you changed the conversation. “Are you taking your chances today, or are you looking for something in particular?”

“Actually, I’m looking for something specific. My friend’s nephew’s been obsessed with a certain genre that I think I want to try.”

“Which is?”

Bucky paused, meeting your eyes directly as he replied, “Modern fantasy. Like…stories set in the real world, but have people with strange powers.”

Your breath hitched.

Okay, fuck, maybe he didn’t give up on you.

Was this intentional? Was he somehow talking about you—a cursed, immortal being hiding amongst people who’d never know that she was older than their great-grandparents? Or maybe you were reading too far into it. In a way, the world today was a modern fantasy; people like Doctor Strange and Thor walked around like it was a normal occurrence now. Maybe Bucky was being honest, interested in learning why his friend’s nephew was obsessed with this particular genre.

Hopefully, that was all it was.

“Fantasy is over there.” You pointed to your left. “We have a section specific on modern fantasy. Towards the right side of the aisle.”

“Got it. Thanks,” he said before making his way to those novels.

You carefully watched him walk away, wondering if he would turn around at any second to confront you about avoiding the truth again. But he didn’t and vanished behind the shelves. You let out a sigh and walked to the front desk, joining Mandy, who greeted you with a smirk.

You tilted your head at her. “What?”

“You both arrived at the same time.”

You rolled your eyes. “Really? It was a coincidence.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her lips getting more mischievous. “I think it’s destiny.”

“Destiny isn’t real.”

“Whatever. Hey, you know what’s real for sure, though?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Just how fine Bucky is—”

“Mandy, please,” you groaned, putting a hand over your face. “You keep reminding me.”

“And you never deny it.”

You gave her a pointed look, but that only made her laugh just in time for Bucky to return with two books in his gloved hands. Your eyes briefly landed on his gloves before meeting his gaze, and you took the novels from him to ring them up.

Mandy looked over and gasped. “Oh, I love that book. That’s a good one.” She tapped on one of them. “You’re in for a real treat.”

He smiled at her but didn’t say anything back. Once you handed him the books, he turned to leave.

But then, he stopped.

With a quiet breath, he turned around again to face you, and you could see the concern in his eyes—gentle and certain—as he offered you a grin.

“Feel better soon,” he said.

It was a simple phrase, and yet it shook you because there he was, looking at you like someone who mattered.

You were always the one who died, just so that someone else could carry on with their life. That was your role, wasn’t it? To possess the curse that would never give you an ending. It was the life you hated, but one you accepted a long time ago.

But hearing someone—hearing him hope that you were going to be okay…that you would feel better soon, made you feel more cared for than you ever had.

And the fact that he had every single right to despise you for lying to him—whether he really knew it was you or not—and he was still kind to you, it made you want to cry.

You were close to doing so, but you swallowed the emotions down with a forceful smile. “Thank you,” you responded, voice steady but heart shaking.

He nodded and walked away, and just like before, you carefully watched him step out of the store. He was gone, but his presence still stuck with you.

<><><>

Of course, you had spilled your cup of tea all over the floor when you heard the front door open. You were wiping the wooden floors of the drink that you grieved over when the door swung closed and footsteps echoed. But as you were hiding behind the front desk, the footsteps faltered, sounding a little bit unsure of where to go before you looked up and found those favorite frost-blue eyes of yours.

You stood up straight, tossing the paper towel away as Bucky walked in with a small, steel box and a wooden board. He offered you a gentle smile, standing a bit shy with his belongings. “Hi. Didn’t see you there.”

“I was wiping the floor. I spilled my drink all over the floor, unfortunately,” you explained. You then peeked at the wooden board in his hand before looking back at his face. “Here to buy another book?”

“Thought it was obvious by now.”

“Sure, but I think it’s still amazing to see you read so fast. I mean, you bought five, six novels in just the past few days.”

Bucky shrugged. “Not much to do these days, and I feel like I have a lot to catch up on.”

You hummed before gesturing at the toolbox. “What’s with these?”

“Oh… Well, uh…” He cleared his throat, and you could see that… Wait…

Was he blushing right now?

“I was wondering if you wanted your ladder fixed. I…” He lifted his toolbox a bit as if you hadn’t already been staring at it. “I brought some stuff. To…you know, fix…things.”

You stared. Wow, he was terrible at this. But he was cute—

Hold on. Fix what?

You lightly shook your head before tilting it. “You know how to fix ladders?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And, uh, I brought this.” He lifted the wooden board, already sanded and polished in the same color as your ladder. “I measured your rung the other day—that’s what the step is called—and made this. I think it should fit well.”

“You…made me a replacement?” You widened your eyes in shock.

“Tried to, at least. We’ll see how well I did,” he replied.

No. This wasn’t how it should be.

He should be angry. Demanding answers. Forcing you to come clean about who you truly were. Why wasn’t he asking? Why did he let it all go so quickly?

And why was he so determined to fix your ladder?

You didn’t ask him to. He never even mentioned that he was planning on doing this. He just saw that you were frustrated over something as silly as a broken ladder and decided to do something about it. The man who never had a choice in his life—who had no control over his actions for over seventy years—was choosing to do this for you.

Your heart skipped.

Shifting around, you crossed your arms and cleared your throat. “Well… I don’t see why not. Go ahead.”

He gave you a grin that only made your heart leap again and walked towards the back without another word. You could only stand there, stunned by his actions and how nonchalant he was acting, before quickly leaving the front desk and finding customers to talk to—anything to distract yourself from the warmth you felt.

Unfortunately, no one had a question or concern for you, and there weren’t many people around to begin with, so you slowly made your way back to the front desk, waiting for someone to approach you. But as you settled, you began to notice the sounds of tools hitting against a wooden structure, and curiosity slowly seeped into your body.

Since when did Bucky know how to fix ladders of all things?

Unable to hold yourself back, you went straight to the back of the store where you left the ladder, and when you turned the corner, you froze. Bucky was kneeling beside the ladder, gently wiping down the dust of the new rung he had already finished installing. It was perfectly aligned with the rest, colored just the same, so no one would ever know this was a different piece made by an ex-assassin.

What shocked you the most, however, was how unbothered Bucky looked, as if this was a regular activity for him.

You approached him and he looked up to see your wide eyes. “You finished it?”

He nodded while standing up, wiping the dust off his gloves. “It wasn’t difficult. It’s safe to use now.”

“Where did you learn to do that?” you asked immediately after, unable to comprehend this hidden skill of his.

Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your dumbfounded expression. “My dad used to hate buying new things. Always said that if we can fix it, then we fix it. I helped him a lot, especially when our neighbors would ask us for favors.”

There was something about the way he spoke softly, reminiscing about the time that was so far away now, while the smell of wood lingered between you that made this moment so unguarded, warm, and…

Real.

He was real, right in front of you, and you realized how much you needed that.

You felt happy, and it wasn’t the kind that came and went—the kind that existed only for a moment. The happiness that settled in your chest was deep because even after everything—all the pain, torture, and tears—the man before you was still capable of gentleness that was so light that it felt like a whisper against your skin. Barely there, but steady, and maybe…wanting more.

You softly smiled, your shoulders no longer tense. “Thank you.”

Bucky looked at you and, just for a second, he forgot about everything else.

Yes, he didn’t believe that you weren’t Rose, but the way you smiled felt like you weren’t hiding anything. You were no longer wary—you were open and kind in a way that felt rare these days.

And that smile.

He wanted to engrave it into his memories, just like the name in the locket he wore.

With a smile, Bucky nodded. “You’re welcome.”

A silence formed between you two, but it wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t tense or nerve-wracking.

It was nice.

This was nice.

You let out a soft breath, glancing at the ladder again before gesturing to the rest of the store. “You’re getting a book for free.”

Immediately, Bucky’s eyes went wide. “What? No, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will,” you interrupted, your stubbornness coming into play.

“But…” He slightly grimaced. “It doesn’t feel right. I didn’t do this to get repaid or anything.”

“Then consider it as a gift,” you suggested before letting out a small laugh. “You didn’t let me give you a free book for catching me. This is the least I could do.”

Still, he opened his mouth to protest, but you beat him to it once again. “Bucky, come on. Let me do this, okay? You can either pick a book, or I can recommend one for you. So, just…” You smiled again. “Tell me what to do.”

Suddenly, all the fight in Bucky disappeared.

You blinked to see no weight on his shoulders, but you swore you saw something flicker in his eyes—something off. You paused, confused by his reaction, but he just smiled back at you and replied. “You can pick.”

For a moment, you didn’t move, because what was that?

But rather than linger on something that maybe wasn’t even real, you walked to the thriller section while he followed you closely from behind. You scanned the novels and spotted one of your favorites, so you pulled it off the shelves and held it up to him.

He took it from you, grinning at the cover. “Looks interesting.”

“It’s a really good thriller. Better than Cosmo, I promise.”

“I believe you,” he said, looking up at you.

And when you met his eyes, your breath got caught in your throat. Just for a fleeting moment, there was a sadness in his eyes—the ache that you had seen the day he came to apologize to you. Despite how calm the last few days had been, it was clear that he still longed for someone he swore he would never leave again.

Pain scratched at your heart, but you pushed the feeling down and forced out a smile. “Thank you for the ladder.”

He returned the grin, and you couldn’t even tell if it was forced or not. “You’re welcome.”

Then you both lightly jumped at the sound of his phone buzzing, caught off guard in the quiet moment. Bucky reached for it and glanced at the screen, and you instantly saw how quickly the warmth in his eyes vanished as he picked up the call.

“Hey, man,” he greeted, his voice serious. His eyes were sharp, and it reminded you of when you had seen him as the Winter Soldier—when his gaze could pierce through anyone as he completed his mission.

You watched him listen to whoever he was calling, and how his eyebrows furrowed. “When? What— Now?” Then he let out a deep breath through his nose and shook his head. “Got it. I’ll meet you in thirty. Bye.”

He turned off his phone, and the way his posture was so tight now made you worried. You shifted on your feet and tried to lighten the mood. “Got somewhere urgent to be?”

Bucky met your gaze again and nodded. “Yeah. I have to go. Thank you for the book.”

“It’s no problem. I hope you enjoy it.”

“I think I will.” He smiled at you with a wave. “I’ll see you around.”

You waved back. “Bye, Bucky.”

Within a few seconds, Bucky was gone. The way he picked up his steps just as he left your store made you wonder exactly who and what he had to leave so quickly for. You slowly dropped your hand to your side, eyes still glued on the front door.

Who knew how long you stood there?

Finally, after letting out a soft breath, you turned around to go look at the ladder again, tempted to try it now. But when you left one of the aisles and looked over, you widened your eyes to see an open steel box sitting right beside it.

“Shit,” you murmured, crouching beside it and gathering the tools into the box. “What do I…”

The words on your tongue vanished when you glanced up, directly staring at the newly installed rung. With a gentle touch, you glided your hand over the piece and even gave it a little wiggle, finding that it didn’t budge at all. Clasping the toolbox shut, you stood up with it and carefully—maybe a bit nervously—stepped onto the ladder. You lingered there and couldn’t help but huff out a laugh.

Maybe you still couldn’t believe that the James you’d been saving all these years was a carpenter in disguise.

You stepped off the ladder, pleased by its new look, and walked to the back room with the toolbox. Surely, he’d come back tomorrow. You’d just give him the tools then.

And as much as you hated it…

You couldn’t wait to see him.

<><><>

The wind rushed through Bucky’s hair as snow whirled around his feet, the rocky ledge getting restless just like the team. He carefully stepped closer to the edge of the cliff, staring down at the frozen train tracks where he would go next. Without turning to the man next to him, his lips curled upward as he spoke, “Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?”

“Yeah, and I threw up?” Steve responded, eyes locked onto the tracks below.

Bucky nodded, the wind continuing to tackle his skin. “This isn’t payback, is it?”

Steve lightly grinned. “Now, why would I do that?”

Bucky chuckled just as Gabe began to speak, telling the team that Dr. Zola was indeed on the speeding train. The moment he made the confirmation, the Howling Commandos moved with certainty, grabbing weapons and handlebars for the zip line. Within minutes, the train came into view, and Bucky swiftly followed Steve, soaring through the air as he kept a firm grip on his bar. He landed on the train, hands stung by the frozen surface, before he carefully walked behind Steve, keeping his body low to the cart.

And when Steve began to descend the ladder, Bucky looked straight ahead, only able to see trees decorated in snow and nothing else. He then glanced down, gulping at just how high up they were in the mountains, but then shoved his fear away before stepping down the ladder.

Just before he jumped into the cart, he paused, closing his eyes and feeling the wind and snow blow past him.

It was just so cold, but a thought warmed his heart.

Maybe…maybe his guardian angel would protect him today too.

He opened his eyes and leaped into the train, raising his weapon as he silently trailed behind his best friend.

Who knew that you wouldn’t protect him this time? That he would still end up falling because of a loose, broken support, and be unlucky enough to survive as HYDRA’s only successful experiment? He had hoped that you would save him when he struggled to reach for his friend, and only watched his life flash before his eyes as he disappeared into the snow.

But despite all that, he still didn’t let go of this hope.

As Bucky wheezed in the snow, bones broken and left arm missing, feeling his life slowly leave him, he waited for you. And he continued to wait. Through all the torture and missions, he waited for you.

And he longed for you so much that even though HYDRA had successfully turned him into their weapon, the man trapped inside still lived on.

And it was that man, recovering from poisonous powder, who stared at your locket and realized that his guardian angel had come back.

Despite being the one to kill you that evening at the museum, you still saved his life. And as you died in front of him, for the first time in fifteen years, he remembered that he was something more than just a weapon.

Someone named James.

Someone who knew what love was.

NEXT CHAPTER >

Taglist! @a-century-of-sass @clemicious @fallenxjas @paryl @frog-fans-unite @sebastians-love @buckvoidsyy @recorddust @nj01 @avengersgirllorianna @western-nightss @chonkybonky @weasleyswheezeys @balatroaddict @herejustforbuckybarnes @redtaytan @lilfuturescars @glossy01 @starstruckfirecat @moon-shampoo @buckysdoll1940

Thanks for reading :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #ca:tfa #ca:tws #ca:cw #tfatws

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therealmylesmorales · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! ive read some of ur work lara croft x reader and I love them so so much you write her so well, I was wondering if u could write one with lara and fem reader asking her to give up being an archeologist (live a more safe life with her) and settle down

thank u if u ever consider this 🩷 and ty for your previous works

Anon, I hope you know that I love you and sorry this took a while

Another pick I stole borrowed from the pookie @laracroftsfiance 🫶🏾 featuring Lara’s resting sad face

WC: 1k

Do I Look Like Him?

You hesitated by the large double oak doors. There was a hint of light you could see through the cracks so you know Lara was in there. But whether she wanted to talk to you was a different story.

Her latest research led her to South Africa; an amulet that her father had suspicions about but never had the chance to see if it was true. She was within arms reach of the jewel but multiple surprise explosions from Trinity caused it to fall into the ocean, forever lost to the sea.

But maybe it was better that way. Now, no one had to worry about it landing in the wrong hands.

Lara thought differently. She never told you what happened during this trip like she normally would. If anything, she was quiet—tense even. It worried you.

You finally tapped your knuckles on the wood before cracking it open. Lara was sitting in her chair, hunched over her desk with an old journal opened in front of her. You thought your presence in the room went unnoticed until she finally spoke to you when you walked next to her.

“Why are you still up?” She asked quietly, her full attention still not on you .

”You weren’t in bed,” you said. “I figured you would be in here especially since you should be resting.”

”I’m fine.”

”Lara, you got shot in the stomach,” you said, your tone getting sharp. “You almost died.”

She muttered out a response. “It’s not the first time I got shot, love.”

”You almost died,” you repeated. “You passed out twice as I was patching you up. Figuring out where Trinity is can wait, you need rest.”

Lara didn’t answer but seeing her jaw tightened, you could tell she was getting annoyed by the conversation. You took a second to calm yourself.

”Listen, Lara, I didn’t come here to argue with you,” you said softly. “I wanted to talk to you…about you retiring.”

”Retirement?” Lara parroted, finally giving you a look.

”Everytime you come back from wherever the hell, you seem to get closer to death,” your voice was shaky but you powered through it. “And one of these days, your luck might run out and I couldn’t live with that! A-and not to mention this obsession you have with Trinity. I get it, Lara, I really do but you’re acting like your fat—“

Lara’s sudden and sharp tone cut off your small rant, not wanting to hear those words coming from you. “Y/N! I don’t have time for this right now. I’m trying to focus but I can’t do that with you here. So…please leave.”

You both sat in tense silence. Lara never yelled, at least never at you, so safe to say this was uncharted territory. You could only stare at her back in shock, noticing that she paid more attention to the written words rather than the ones said to you.

“Fine, Lara,” you scoffed, leaving the brunette to her endeavors.

The pencil tapped against her desk, the words in front of her not being processed. “Retirement,” she repeated, the word foreign on her tongue. “I bet you never considered that.”

The picture she was talking to, one of both of her mother and father, only answered her with silence. Over her years growing up, Lara couldn’t remember most memories with her father. It was always her and her mother, and the severents of the manor. But what she did remember of her father was the arguments he had with her mother, regarding him prioritizing his over his family. Then when her mother died, he only buried himself deeper.

Maybe if he did consider retiring, things would be different for Lara. Maybe her parents would still be alive.

And instead of listening to your words, Lara seemed to be following in her father’s footsteps.

”Fuck,” Lara muttered, rubbing her hands over her face. She sat alone with her thoughts for a little longer, thinking on what to say to you.

Lara stalled for time when she cleaned up the little mess that was in her office before walking to your shared bedroom.

Lara carefully pushed the bedroom door opened, expecting to see you still awake waiting for her. Instead, your body was turned away from her, body completely covered by the heavy blankets. Lara wasn’t sure if you were awake or pretending to be asleep but she was still extra quiet when she crawled into bed next to you; she left a small amount of space between you both, not sure if you were up for cuddling.

”I’m sorry,” she whispered. Lara could hear you release a soft sigh at her apology, but you didn’t interrupted her. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

”I was only trying to help, Lara,” was all you said.

”I know. I know, and I appreciate that—you very much.” Her hand reached to caress your shoulder, urging you to turn and face her. “And…and I understand what you want. And you’re right.”

”I’m right?” Those were words you never really heard from Lara, at least seriously, so hearing this was new.

She had a hard time getting her words together. “I never…considered retiring, until you. The adventure, that’s all I’ve known. I guess you can say that I’ve grown accustomed to it, even despite my injuries. But, if it comes to you or my job, I will choose you every time.”

”Lara…”

”I will retire,” she said, placing her palm over your cheek. “And as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be with you.”

You stayed silent, searching her face for any sign of her second guessing; but all you saw was her undying love for you. Your own hand reached to cover the one that was holding your face, rubbing your thumb over Lara’s scared knuckles.

A wordless acceptance that eased most of Lara’s nerves.

”May I have a kiss?” Granted, she could get one whenever she wants but Lara didn’t know if you were too upset.

A soft smile was her answer before you softly pressed your lips against her pouted ones. And when your forehead rested against her own, Lara felt at completely ease.

#c: lara croft #lara croft x reader #tomb raider x reader #myles writing #this took so long I’m sorry

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princess-luvvv · 6 months ago

Text

A GOLD RING AND COLD FEET

Rafe Cameron x fem!exgirlfriend!reader

A/N: (This is lowk 4.3k words I’m sorry) Hey guys lol I literally do not know what I’m doing help. I did not proofread idek how to work this app so if this sucks just don’t tell me bc this thing is the biggest pain in the ass lol. Like I am so genuinely sorry I’m such a grandma. Also this is what I listened to while writing this so feel free to listen as well :)

WARNINGS: AUTHOR CANT FIGURE THIS APP OUT, there’s no smut (not going to traumatize you guys with my brain on the first post), girl reader, marriage (basically the whole theme), cheating (sort of from reader but like it’s fine), ermmm just bad writing im sorry lol. Just a man yearning (like good). Okay Im sorry byeee.

14 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE BRIDAL SHOWER

Rafe Cameron was going to be the death of me. I knew it.

We had dated for 7 years. He asked me out when we were 14 after knowing each other since we were 6. He broke up with me when we were 21. He said he “couldn’t be tied down in his 20s”.

After that I thought I was completely broken. I had never even imagined loving anyone else - having to love someone else.

But here I was. 14 days away from my wedding to a man I didn’t love. A part of me felt like such an asshole. Marrying a man who I knew I’d never love. But Jackson had his faults. He raised his voice too much. He never opened my door…not since our third date at least. He worked all the time. He regularly forgot important events like anniversaries and birthdays.

We started dating 10 months, 1 week, and 4 days after Rafe broke up with me.

Even though most people said it was time to move on it still felt too soon to me. 3 years later and it still feels too soon sometimes.

But here I am. At my bridal shower. Wearing a silver ring when I haven’t touched a piece of silver jewelry since I was 9.

I was opening gifts when only one remained. A small black box with no tag attached.

“Who is this one from?” I ask the crowd of giddy women surrounding me. They all share confused looks. Shrugging and comments like “It’s not mine” falling from their lips. This only furthered my confusion as I opened the box.

I gasped.

Inside was a beautiful - gold - ring. It was my dream ring.

“Oh my gosh it’s just beautiful!” My best friend Grace said.

“Jackson must have picked it out for you since yours is missing.” Grace says causing me to furrow my brows.

I looked down to my left hand and noticed the absence of my ring.

Since when was that gone?

“Oh yeah…I guess he did.” I smile and tuck the box away. Making a mental note to ask Jackson later. Even though I knew he didn’t get it for me, a part of me hoped.

As my friends went on and on about how beautiful this wedding would be and how happy they were…I couldn’t help but wish their joy was infectious.

At least someone is excited right?

12 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: BACHELORETTE

I was sitting in an expensive restaurant in downtown Charleston sipping a cocktail I’m pretty sure costs more than my salad. Jackson and I had decided to have our Bachelorette/Bachelor parties in the same city in case anything happened. He was out having a guys night while I was out with my girls. I hadn’t had this much fun doing anything wedding related well ever.

“It’s not a coincidence that you think that and Jackson isn’t here” a little voice inside my brain taunts me. But I push it down. Along with the bile rising in my throat. From the alcohol or the impending commitment of forever to a person who I know I don’t love - which, I’m not sure.

“How are you babe?” My friend Ava says as she turns her entire body to face me. I was tracing shapes on the condensation on the outside of my barely touched drink while I tuned out the rest of the chatter.

“I’m wonderful how about you Ava?” I smile and meet her eye. She gives an unconvinced smile and repeats her question: “Come on. How are you really? Cold feet? We can get on the next flight out of America just say the word.” She says with a laugh. And I know she’s joking but part of me is screaming “YES!” Inside of my head.

I laugh and shake my head.

“No cold feet. Just lukewarm maybe.”

Lukewarm. It’s funny cause that’s basically a word that sums up the entirety of Jackson and I’s relationship. I hadn’t felt fire, sparks, passion…any of it. Not since-

“Lukewarm is okay. Marriage is big. But…you’ll be okay.” Ava says cutting off my thoughts. And I can see her trying to hide her real feelings. She wants me to talk to him. Not him. Him.

The him who left me in a hotel room in Key West on what was supposed to be our 8 year anniversary trip. The him who wouldn’t stop sending letters to my house. The him who sent me 127 texts and 87 voicemails since last Tuesday. Which is apparently the day the Cameron’s wedding invitation arrived. I wasn’t going to invite them but I felt I needed to. Sarah and I were still friends and I adored Wheezie. The him who took up every inch of my heart. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself he didn’t.

LATER THAT NIGHT AT THE HOTEL…

I entered my private suite in the hotel. I had gotten my drunk pack of bridesmaids back to their rooms…well the ones that were sleeping in their own rooms tonight. I had my own room this trip. My bridesmaid Lila insisted on it in case Jackson wanted to sneak over from his hotel…that’s what she said. But I knew she secretly wanted to give me my space away from the wedding buzz and events. I was grateful for that.

Until I was not.

Because the second I opened my door and ripped off my crown that said “BRIDE” I looked up and saw a man sitting on the couch in the suites living room. His elbows resting on his large thighs as he hung his head.

He looks up when I walk in.

I should’ve been scared…but I knew exactly who it was.

I flicked on the light. “Rafe what- what are you doing here?” I say in half anger half disbelief. OBX was at least 7 hours from here.

What the hell was he thinking?

“I had to see you…” I shake my head as he stands up and walks towards me. I take a step back.

“No. No. You can’t do this to me.” He walks closer. I put out my hands. Placing them on his chest to keep distance between us.

“Please just hear me out….” He gently grips my wrists that are placed on his chest. He paused for a second. Looking into my eyes to see if I would stop him again. I let him continue.

“I know…I know I have no right to be here. No right to do this. But please just listen to what I have to say…” He sighed before continuing. “You can’t marry him. Baby you can’t….I’m begging you. He doesn’t treat you right. You know that. I have so many regrets in my life…but I’d live them all over a million times if it meant I never let you go. I regret that every breath I take.”

My eyes gloss over. His touch was so gentle unlike Jackson’s. He didn’t raise his voice at me. He didn’t do anything but love me exactly the way I wanted while also being everything I needed.

He sighs seeing my eyes tear up. “Baby don’t- don’t cry….it’s just-….I can tell you’re not happy.” He says as he wipes a tear that escaped my eyes.

“I-I’m happy…” I say weakly.

But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Me or him?

He sighs. Bringing a hand up to my cheek to wipe away another tear. His hand not moving. “You’re not. I can see it. I know you…I see it in your face when you look at him. Those beautiful eyes have never told me a lie.”

“You don’t know me anymore…” another lie. He knew me. He knew me. He knew my coffee order at every coffee shop on the island. He knew my favorite songs and the lyrics to all of them. He knew my favorite movie. He knew my favorite animal.

He laughs softly in disbelief.

“I don’t know you? I know you. I know your order at every Mexican restaurant on the island. I can recite your coffee orders in my sleep. I know every word to your favorite Taylor Swift songs. Your favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast and you love the soundtrack. You love penguins and you’re a dog person. I know you baby.”

I cry harder as he recites everything about me. On surface it’s not much. Small talk topics he could’ve figured out from social media. But it goes so much deeper. He knows what makes me tick. What I need when I’m sad. How to cheer me up even through tears.

If only he could do that now…

“Does that asshole even know your favorite Jane Austen book? Huh? Does he? Cause I do. And it’s Emm-“

“Stop! Just stop Rafe! Just- just go! Why-why are you doing this me? This isn’t fair.” I say wiping my tears. I was full on crying now.

“I can’t just sit back and watch you marry someone who’s not going to make you happy. You deserve so much better. You don’t deserve someone who’s never there for you, or doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who treats you exactly how you deserve to be treated - like the woman I love. I know I was stupid to let you go. I was young - and I thought I wanted freedom, but I was wrong. I haven’t known a minute of freedom since you left. I miss you, I miss us. And I need you more than I need air to breathe…”

“Please. Don’t marry him. Please baby…” He’s begging now. I’ve never seen Rafe Cameron beg for anything.

“Rafe I’m-I’m getting married in 12 days I can’t-“ I cut myself off with a sob.

He pulls me against his chest. I don’t protest as I cry harder. Pretty much sobbing now.

I clutch onto the end of his shirt. “I have to marry him Rafe…”

“Why? Why do you have to marry him? You know this isn’t what you want.” He says pleading with me. Running a soothing hand up and down my back. Providing me more comfort than I’ve known all of my relationship with Jackson.

“I know.” I say softly. My voice hoarse.

“Then don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I made the wrong choice a few years ago, but I’m here now. I want you not some false pretense of freedom. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I can give you a ring that you actually like, and a house that we build together. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t marry him. Be with me.” I pause when he mentions the ring. I look down to the gold ring on my left hand. Silently piecing things together.

“Did you send me a new ring?” I look back up him. Brows furrowed. My face puffy from crying. When I meet his eyes I see how utterly heartbroken he looks. It breaks me a little bit.

“I-uh…yeah I did.” He says. And as he confirms my theory I step away from him. Letting out sobs as I turn my back towards him. One hand cradling my stomach as the other covers my mouth.

“Hey - hey what’s wrong. Talk to me.” He says as he walks up behind me placing a soothing hand on my shoulder letting his hands rub me gently.

“Y-you remembered the ring.” I had shown him the type of ring I wanted back when I thought we were going to get married.

I was so stupid at 20. Or maybe I was just naive.

“Of course I remembered the ring. You showed it to me a million times. I know it was your dream ring and I couldn’t bear the idea of him giving you something you didn’t actually want…” He explains with a confused expression. Not quite sure why it was hurting me so bad.

The thought that he had gotten me a ring I wanted even though he didn’t want me marrying Jackson made me want to cry…and vomit.

“I-I can’t-“ My legs give out and I drop to my knees. Rafe immediately goes down with me. Pulling me into his chest. I was now cradled in his lap as he rocked me gently while I cried.

“Please don’t cry baby….it hurts me so bad.”

That night I fell asleep in Rafes arms.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Rafe brought her to her hotel bed and tucked her in he couldn’t help but feel the urge to get in bed and hold her as she slept. But he knew how awful she’d feel if she woke up next to him knowing she betrayed Jackson. So he left a note next to her bedside and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving. The words “I love you” mumbled softly as she slept.

ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE NEXT MORNING.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Jackson walks into the hotel room of his future wife he can’t help the guilt eating at him. He brings in the takeout bags and starts to place it onto a tray.

He takes out the water and Advil he got from the pharmacy and brings it over to her bedside.

As he’s placing the hangover cure on her nightstand a paper written on hotel stationery catches his eye.

He reads through the paper.

“All my love, R.C.”

He folds up the note and places it back in his pocket before going back to the takeout bags. Ready to act as if nothing happened.

FIRST PERSON POV

I wake up with an empty feeling in my stomach. The same one I’ve had for 3 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days.

I hear someone walking around the suite and as much as I know it’s probably Jackson…a part of me hopes…

Seconds later Jackson comes into my room with a smile. Holding a tray of food.

Odd. He’s never done sweet gestures for me like this.

“Good morning my love…I thought this would help cure the hangover. I ordered breakfast from that place you like downtown. You always talk about how much you wish we had one back at home so…” As he explains his reasoning for being here the sick feeling grows in my stomach. And I wish it was hangover sickness. I felt like such crap. Here he was being so sweet to me and I cried in the arms of another man last night.

I look around the room for any evidence Rafe was here. Feeling slightly disappointed but relieved that I didn’t find anything.

“Have fun last night?” Jackson says as he picks a blueberry off my plate.

“Uh yeah….it was really fun.” I smile and lie. But he can’t tell the difference so he nods his head before getting up and kissing my forehead.

“Well I have to go into work early tomorrow so the guys and I are heading back home but…I love you.” He says. He rarely says those three words. And that itself wouldn’t be weird. We’re getting married of course we tell each other we love each other. But paired with the weird domestic wake-up I had this morning it left an icky feeling in my stomach. But I smiled and nodded. Swallowing my food before replying.

“Okay…love you too.”

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING DAY: THE REHEARSAL DINNER

“Have you seen my gold earrings?” I ask Jackson. Walking around our shared bathroom while he was shaving. We were getting ready for our rehearsal dinner before we left for the wedding venue in the morning.

“Which earrings?” He asks. Not pausing his movements of shaving his face.

“The ones I always-“ I huff in defeat knowing it’s no use. I’ve worn those earrings everyday for the past 9 years. They were Rafe’s 2 year anniversary gift to me.

I walk around the bedroom looking under a few things before my phone pings distracting me for a second. I walk over to it and turn the screen over to see an Instagram DM message request.

“Hey…I want to say I am so sorry to do this to you. I know you’re getting married in 2 days but there’s something you should know…”

THREE HOURS UNTIL WEDDING DAY: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING

I was pacing around the cabin of my private room on the property of our venue.

The venue was a family owned property on the mainland. It was gorgeous. Jackson was in the cabin across the venue in the Groom’s cabin. I was staying in the Bridal lodge.

I felt nauseous. My throat felt like it was closing and the white matching way too expensive PJ set I was gifted especially for tonight felt like it was constricting my air. The cabin suddenly felt stuffy and like the walls were about to close in at any minute. I was all alone.

I pull out my phone quickly going to the only number I had on speed dial.

He picks up on the first ring - he always does.

RAFES POV

The whole day I had been sulking at home watching football and drinking whiskey. My lab Daisy sitting by my side as she watched me drown my sorrows.

Was she really going to marry him?

I had dozed off for a few hours before a phone ringing woke me up.

I look at the screen and immediately picked up.

“I need you.” I was standing up running to my shoes before the sentence was even over.

“I’m coming baby…I’m on my way just stay put okay?” Her shaky voice was breaking my heart. I grabbed my keys and made an hour long drive less than 40 minutes.

FIRST PERSON POV

I was sitting with my knees tucked to my chest. My eyes puffy and crying, sitting at the edge of the bed when Rafe barged in. He immediately dropped to his knees next to me. Pulling me into his lap. Cradling me as he rocked me back and forth.

“I’m here baby…I’m here.” He repeats the words like a mantra to ease my mind. And it does. But it doesn’t fill the pit in my stomach that seems to have taken a permanent residence.

“Talk to me baby…please you’re scaring me…” I could hear the fear in his voice. And I felt like such a dick. I called my ex boyfriend to help me the night before my wedding to another man.

I’m the worst.

“I-I’m so sorry….I didn’t know who else to call.” I get out between sobs. He shakes his head. Grabbing my face with both of his hands.

“Shhh….I just need you to tell me what you need. I’m right here. Just tell me how to help. Okay?”

How does he always know what to say? It’s ridiculous.

“I need out of this…” And at that sentence Rafe was pretty sure he could’ve cried a happy tear. But he needed to be sure.

“Out of what baby?” He knew. But he needed to know.

“You know what.” I pause before continuing. Sniffling and wiping my tears. “Jackson cheated on me. His bachelor party…she texted me the night our rehearsal dinner. She was their bartender in Charleston. But that’s not even the worst part…” I shake my head in disbelief at myself. “The worst part is I don’t even care. My fiancée cheated on me less than two weeks before our wedding. And I can’t find it in me to care.”

I knew I never loved Jackson. And that’s part of why I was marrying him. Because I knew that if I never loved him he’d never be able to hurt me…not like Rafe did at least.

I continue:

“I’m literally incapable of loving him because every inch of my heart belongs to you. And it kills me. I should be devastated right now. But- but all I can think is that I need you. And it’s so cold and you hate driving at night but this is the second time you’ve driven over an hour for me in two weeks.”

In reality it didn’t take Rafe an hour to get here. But he let me continue anyways.

“I’m terrible-“ He cuts me off.

“No. You’re perfect. I know you think you have to settle for this but you don’t. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be here. Whether or not you get married in 12 hours I’m always going to be there when you need me. I don’t care what it is or where you are. You call and I’m there. You need me…and I’m right here baby. I’ll always be right here. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

I look at him as he says that. And suddenly nothing about this makes sense. Why am I getting married to Jackson?

He sucks.

I stand up. Grabbing Rafes hands pulling him up with me.

“We need to leave.” I look around the room at my things. Rafe immediately nods and starts packing my things into my suitcase with me.

“Where do you need to go? I’ll take you anywhere baby. Car? Train? Plane? Boat? Fuck I’ll swim across the Atlantic for you baby.”

I pause and glance up at him from across my suitcase that we’re both knelt over. I meet his gaze. His eyes show me nothing but seriousness. Standing 10 toes behind his words. I wrap an arm around his neck and place an arm on his shoulder to steady myself as I lean in and kiss him.

He’s so taken aback but he kisses back after realizing this isn’t another one of his dreams that have felt like nightmares these past 3 years.

I pull away and he slightly sighs at the disconnect.

“Anywhere that’s not here. Just need to be with you. Please.”

2 HOURS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AN HOUR LATER ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT

I look around the room once more to make sure I have everything.

“You got everything you need baby?” He asks me and I nod.

“I’m gonna take this to the car.” I was carrying my pillow and blanket I had brought. Rafe insisted on carrying my bags. He nods but stays in his place before speaking up.

“Okay I’ll be there in a second I’m gonna take one last look around.” I nod before walking to his truck and getting inside.

THIRD PERSON POV:

Rafe pulls the object out of his pocket. Placing it on the dresser.

He grabs her bags taking one last look at the wedding dress hanging on the closet door before shutting the door behind him.

The silver ring shimmering in the moonlight sitting on the dresser where he left it.

FIRST PERSON POV

Rafe gets back in the car and looks over at me.

“If you change your mind I don’t mind-“ I cut him off.

“I’m not changing my mind. Now drive.” He smiles before putting the truck in reverse.

As we drive for a few minutes a question plagues my mind: Why didn’t he say anything the morning after the bachelorette party?

“Can I ask you something?” He glances over at me. He had a comforting hand on my thigh as he drove.

“Anything.” I smile at his answer while look at my lap before continuing.

“Why didn’t you say anything the morning after that night in Charleston? Not a text or a note or anything? I know you didn’t have to I just…hated waking up with no evidence that you had even been there.” Rafe’s brows furrow.

I did leave a note. He thought to himself.

“Baby I left a note on your dresser…didn’t you see it?” He says confused.

“No…the next morning I woke up and Jackson was…” I trailed off. Suddenly piecing everything together. Rafe seemed to as well. His grip on the wheel tightened and his jaw clenched.

“I left a note. I promise. But it’s not anything I won’t tell you to your face everyday for the rest of our lives. So don’t worry about it, pretty. Okay? I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Rafe.” And I truly meant it.

On the way to the airport we sang along to Taylor Swift songs we both knew. And suddenly the pit in my stomach was slowly being filled with laughter and the way he didn’t even ask me what I wanted when we stopped at McDonald’s.

To be loved it to be seen. And I had to have been invisible to Jackson.

23 MINUTES UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AT THE AIRPORT 11:37 PM

“Flight 237 is now boarding. This is the final call for passengers to LaGuardia Airport.”

Rafe looks at me as we get ready to board the plane.

“You ready?” He sticks out his hand. I smile at him.

“Yeah…I’m ready.” I take his hand and lean up and kiss him as we walk onto the plane.

I glance down at the gold ring on my finger. And I realize no one will ever see me as clearly and perfectly as Rafe sees me. And that’s all I could ask for.

“Hey” he looks back at me. Glancing up from his sports magazine. His brows raised waiting for me to answer.

“I love you.” I continue and smile. His gaze softens and he pulls me into another quick kiss. I hated PDA but I didn’t care. Not with him.

“I love you more than I can even describe.” He pauses before continuing. “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.”

I don’t know a lot…but I know I’ve found my person. And everything’s okay. And for the first time in 3 years, 7 months, 4 weeks, and 2 days…I felt like I could breathe.

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rachalixie · 1 year ago

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a/n: a little thing i scrapped from a fic i'm writing for my baby star @forlix :) i love you. i choose you. <333

“lix?” you ask, tentativeness lining the single syllable like even your voice knew that what you were about to say was a little silly. “why did you choose me?”

“what do you mean?” he hums, his fingers faltering on his keyboard as he tries to split his attention between you and the colorful pixels on the screen.

“like, why me? you could have had anyone you wanted,” you bite your tongue, not quite understanding why these words were coming out here and now.

“what do you mean.” he repeats, more of a statement than a question now, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. he turns around completely, facing you and letting his character die a tragic death on the screen behind him. “are you serious?”

“i- no?” you sigh, not quite meeting his eyes. “yes. kind of? i don’t know.”

“y/n,” he rolls his chair close to you until your knees were touching, and he takes your hands in his, stopping you from wringing your fingers together. “it wasn’t a choice, you know that right? the stars brought us together, you’re mine in every way that i am yours.”

“right but,” you start, feeling grateful when he squeezes your hands in a silent go on, i’m here to listen. “if you could make that choice. if you didn’t want what the universe chose for you. then what?”

“if it was a choice to make, i would choose you every single time,” he slides off the chair, falling to his knees in front of you. “in every universe, in every reality, in every single world that exists, i choose you. over and over.”

“yes, but why?” and that is the root of it all - it was less of a deep rooted problem of insecurity and more of a lack of understanding.

“god, i love you,” he looks up at you, so reverent that you feel your breath catch on nothing. “you’re perfect for me. no matter how many flaws you think you have, you compliment me in every single way. i didn’t know someone like you could exist for me in this world, and if i ever lost you i’d spend the rest of my days alone because no one can compare to you.”

“you think of me like that?” you try to ignore the stinging in your eyes and the burning in your nostrils that signal that you were going to cry. you knew the answer; you felt that way about him, too.

“yes,” he says, simple and ringing with truth. “you’re my perfect little star, the one i wish on every night. i look up at the sun and i think of you simply because we live under the same one. i could go on but - do you understand, now?”

“i do,” you smile. and while looking at him, the moon that hangs bright in your night skies, you truly do understand.

—

soft hours

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #felix fluff #felix imagines #felix x reader

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avengersbtch · 11 months ago

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Missed You- Armando Aretas (ONE SHOT)

Armando Aretas x Reader

Warnings: Pre-established relationship, does not follow films timeline, And nothing else? Unless you hate fluff with a hint on angst if you look closely.

A/N: Honestly this fic was meant to go a whole different way but guess this is what I felt like writing lol.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Armando escapes after the crash and finds you at Dorn’s.

The aftermath of Armando’s actions was catastrophic, he was locked up and you were stuck waiting on the other side for him. You warned him his mother’s instructions would come with a price, but he was loyal to a fault especially to his mother. However, no matter what he did and who he trusted, you were always a constant for him, and he loved you more for it. Seeing him in prison had broken your heart more than you could admit, you could see he had accepted his fate with the light in his eyes dull after his mother’s death, the only thing that kept you going and kept you hopeful was Mike doing his best to try and get him out, not that it was helping at moment, he was still behind bars.

It had been routine for you, you would visit him on a weekly basis, only weekends because you worked full time as a data analyst for the PD. So, your weekends were spent driving down and seeing him and talking to him for an hour a day and doing the same thing the next day. He wouldn’t tell you much about his day or his week really, you assumed to not worry you, not that it helped, you stressed about him constantly and missed him dearly and wished you could at least hug him. He knew you were doing the best you could, and he knew that being with him also caused you more trouble than peace which swelled his heart. Seeing you on the weekends was his only sense of joy that he felt and knowing you were still there for him solidified his true awe in you. He loved hearing about your week, whether it was a friend or work drama that occurred that week or family related stories, he just listened to it all. He knew him being imprisoned wasn’t a good look on you either given you worked for the PD, but you never said anything to him because it was him before everyone else and he knew you flipped off anyone that tried to say a word about him, which of-course he was proud of.

Today was any other weekend, you picked up a coffee and started driving early in the morning to see him again. You missed him especially with this week being your birthday, it just passed, and it had felt so empty not sharing it with him. You arrived earlier than usual despite the traffic which you chalked it up to luck and were not complaining. Walking into the large prison doors, a couple of officers asked you to sign in and requested the name of the person you were visiting, we’ll to quote in their words ‘inmate’ but there’s was no way you would refer to your Armando as inmate. Absolutely not. They knew who you were coming for, but it was policy for them, so it repeated every week. Following the same routine, you signed in, waited until you were cleared and walked through the X-ray, handing in all your belongings and once you cleared through, you waited until they brought Armando out. You knew he was ready when the officers signalled you in, to which you graciously complied and went it.

There he was behind bars, with his scruffy beard that you loved, and unkept hair sitting with cuffs waiting for you. The moment he noticed you, his smiled lifted, not completely reaching is eyes but a smile was enough for you.

“Amor, you’re early today, I missed you” Armando greeted you instantly as you sat down.

“Hi baby” you smiled grabbing his hand and sneaking a quick peck on his fingers through the bars while the officer wasn’t looking. He smiled at the action and held on to your hand with his fingers not wanting your touch to go just yet. “How are you feeling baby?” You asked slightly rubbing his fingers.

“Me? happy birthday mi amor” He dismissed your question changing the subject back to you.

“Thanks baby, I missed you I’ll be honest” you admitted ignoring the fact he dismissed the question about himself as per usual, you left it because you would harp on about him ignoring it later.

“I was thinking about you baby I promise” he sagged while answering “I’m sorry you have to go through this” slipping his hand away noticing the guard nearing.

“Don’t apologise Armando, it’s not your fault, she lied to you, and it’s been too long to look back now” you consoled “I’m just glad you here and alive and with me baby, I don’t care about anything else” you added, you hated seeing him like this. This wasn’t him; he was cool and calm and level-headed, and you knew he was only this way with you because he trusted you, but it still hurt you to not see him acting like himself. The longer he spent in these walls the worse it got.

“Anywaay, how are you feeling mister I like ignoring my girlfriend’s questions” you dragged putting emphasis that he was not getting away with ignoring your question. He rolled his eyes and beat around the answer again until he got you talking about your week.

You talked for more, told him work stories and what you did for your birthday while he listened with intent. At one point you had your legs crossed in a criss-cross fashion expressing all your concerns, that was until the guard knock on the window beside you yelling “ times up!” Indicating you had to get going.

You turned your head to the guard and then back to Armando and sighed “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok amor, I love you” he assured seeing your hesitation.

You smiled and said softly “love you too baby” kissing your fingers and transferring it to the bars in front on him and he returned the same kiss back adding a cheeky wink that invoked a slight blush from your neck up.

The next day you did the same, the drive was roughly an hour, you didn’t mind it, it was peaceful and enjoyable to have the break driving up. Today you were running later than usual though, it was almost midday and you had woken up late also having a few errands to run before you left because everything closed early Sundays. Nevertheless, you made your way to Armando as you did every weekend.

Only this Sunday was different because the minute you walked into the Prison, the officers frowned and said without waiting “he’s not taking visitors today” they didn’t even ask you who you were visiting, you frowned in confusion.

“What do you mean he’s not taking any visitors, did he say that himself?” you accused as you questioned the officers, knowing for a fact Armando did not ask to not see you.

“He got into an altercation yesterday which has resulted in his visitation rights being revoked” he stated as if he was reading a script. Now you were absolutely confused and even more worried.

“An altercation, what happened? Is he ok” you frantically asked worried about him. While Armando could hold his own in a fight, he wouldn’t start one for nothing. Something was wrong.

“We cannot disclose any further information, please reach out to your lawyer for further clarification” he scriptly stated again which infuriated you further.

“Like hell” you mumbled grabbing your phone and dialling Mike right away while walking out the prison. Did he know about this, if not could he out? The lawyer was who’d you be calling last, please. A million thoughts were going through your mind as the phone rang but the only one you need an answer to right now was if he was safe.

The ring paused, indicating Mike had answered thankfully and before you could greet him, he rushed and said “y/n, I’m dealing with it now. I’m going to try and get him transferred” advising you immediately showing he clearly knew what the fuck was going on.

“Dealing with it now?! What the fuck is going on why the fuck did I get rejected to see him Mike?” You yelled frustrated this was how you were finding out, trying to walk back to your car.

“I didn’t know you were going down, I would’ve called” he sighed, also repeating “I’m trying to get him transferred”.

“You should have called me first! I don’t give a shit if I was going down or not” you spat, throwing all your anger onto him. “Why are you trying to get him transferred, I need to know what’s happening” you demanded hands waving outside the prison.

He sighed mumbling something along the lines of not wanting to worry you which now worried you more.

“Mike. What. Happened?” You asked him again with more force.

“Someone’s trying to hurt him, I wen-“he started informing before you cut of him in panic.

“What! Hurt him? Mike, who’s trying to hurt him? Why? “You asked frantically pausing in your tracks, your heart beating faster the more you listened. Why the hell would anyone want to hurt Armando.

“If you didn’t interrupt me, you would have heard me say that I went to see him yesterday” he explained slowly as you allowed him to tell you what was going on. As he went on, you finished walking back to your car and put the phone on speaker.

“to get information on Captain with him being framed and you know Armando being the one that killed him and all” Mike pointed out while explaining.

You shook your head in disbelief and huffed “Mike, get on with it, you know it was his mother’s doing, don’t blame him for being loyal” you defended Armando, there was no way you’d let anyone, even Mike say a single bad word about him when he wasn’t present to defend himself, whether it was intentional or not.

After this, Mike went on explaining everything to you and that he was going down to request his transfer so they could keep Armando safe so he could ID the true suspect behind the framing of Captain Howard. None of this made you feel any better but there was literally nothing you could do but wait for Armando to be transferred, that was what Mike said anyway. So that’s what you did, you went about your day doing errands, cooking, and cleaning and basically anything and everything that would keep you occupied.

Later that day you got a phone call from Mike stating that the transfer was happening which felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders after hearing those words. You knew the transfer still had to happen for him to be one hundred percent safe so when Mike transferred him was when you’d truly feel at ease. You trusted Mike so waiting for this to go down would be ok, as long as someone was protecting him, not that he couldn’t protect himself but knowing he wasn’t alone made you feel a bit at ease. So then started a new waiting game, tomorrow he would be transferred, that wasn’t that far away you thought. Wrong, you didn’t sleep the whole night stressed that he was alone at that prison and unsafe, with people who wanted him dead, your heart constricted at the thought of him being hurt and feeling so alone.

Day two of waiting was a little easier given you were running on no sleep and had work, so it was difficult to focus on anything except not closing your eyes and although work was slow it offered some sort of a distraction from worrying about Armando. Well, that was until you noticed the news at work. You had been on your computer, and a news feed notification appeared on your screen that read “PRISON TRANSFER PLANE CRASH” this immediately sparked your interest and concern simultaneously. You clicked the notification, reading through was had been reported, time slowed down, everything was moving in slow motion. Not only had you read the words plane crash and Armando’s name in the same sentence, the words fugitive and suspects were raising major red flags as well. So much new information was being thrown at you and you honestly felt like you would faint. You breathed in and out at least 5 times and listed everything that you read. Armando had been in a plane crash; they suspect he survived with Mike and Marcus who were now wanted suspects. The plane crash was not a coincidence, you knew that, and you knew who ever wanted Armando dead was going through lengths to do this. You ignored the stares from you co-workers assuming they’ve seen the same notification and stood up to request to leave work early.

You ran to your car and sat with your head on your steering wheel for a minute breathing in and out, five minutes passed, and you decided to try and call Mike, obviously with no answer, then called Marcus and the same. You must have sat there for what felt like an hour till you drove home and went on your laptop trying to figure something out, anything really but obviously no luck given this wasn’t your expertise and the only person you knew who may be able to help was Dorn. You contemplated going to Dorn’s place and asking him to help, wondering whether he was already trying to help, you thought about just calling him, but then you would risk your phone being tapped and that was not something you could risk given Armando was out, possibly hurt and maybe even alone however, you doubted that seeing as Mike and Marcus were now suspects to Armando’s escape. Your emotions getting the better of you, you grabbed your keys and decided that you would go to Dorn and ask him for help and at least have him offer you what he knows. Yes, it was almost midnight, but you wouldn’t be able to rest or breathe until you knew Armando was okay and Dorn would have to suffer for that.

Arriving at Dorn’s place, you noticed a light was on which was good and meant that you were not waking him up. You knocked softly, hoping not to annoy him at this hour, to your surprise, he answered immediately with a confused look on his face.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asked in concern standing at the door.

“Did you see the news?” You asked back in answer sliding past him inviting yourself in.

“On Mike and Marcus?” He asked confirming he saw the same thing. “Yeah, I spoke to them just before it crashed, there is shit going down” he answered, telling me absolutely nothing as he closed the door eyes shifting upstairs.

“And Armando, he’s probably with them” you added, causing him to shift slightly probably because he wasn’t Armando’s biggest fan. “So, you haven’t heard from them since?” You asked watching his eye shift slightly to upstairs again.

You rolled your eyes at him “get over it Dorn, I know you and Kelly are together.” You stated getting bored at his stress, needing his 100 percent focus.

“HOW?” He gasped and that caused you to chuckle, telling him how obvious they were. After that amazing discovery you had sat with Dorn and Kelly while they broke down all the data and information that had come to light before this crash. To be honest, you really didn’t care but if any of this brought you closer to Armando, you would endure it all and more. It had gotten late and Dorn had offered you the spare room to crash, after the day you had and the information overload that just occurred, there wasn’t much more you could do tonight and you felt bad for keeping Kelly and Dorn up till 3, so you agreed and used the spare room until tomorrow and you would go back home and try and figure things out.

The next morning you had heard noise downstairs, assuming it was Dorn and Kelly you tried to go back to sleep. But it seemed louder than normal and there seemed to be conversation that had you interested. Getting out of bed, in the same clothes you were in from last night, you rubbed your eyes and yawned sliding your feet to the bathroom. You washed your face, fixed your hair, and overall tried to look more presentable given you looked like a troll in the mornings. Shifting your feet down the stairs one by one, the yelling getting louder and as your feet reached the final stair, you gasped and paused at the bottom of the stairs. Armando was standing right there with an unbothered look on his face and Kelly pointing a gun at his face.

“Kelly what the fuck?!” You yelled running to Armando to stand in between him and the gun immediately causing Armando unbothered façade to drop.

“Mi Amor? What are you doing here?” Armando asked calmly while you faced Kelly. He had not expected you to be here, not that he knew where Mike and Marcus were taking him but the last person, he expected to see was you while he was on the run. You slightly touched his arm, keeping distance between him and the woman with the gun. Your touch felt like fire and there was nothing more he wanted but to hug you and kiss you all over. He had been dreaming of it every time you visited him at the prison.

“Y/N I know you love him, but you need to step aside. He can’t be here.” Kelly declared as if that would make you move anymore, throwing her a confused look you stared at Dorn for help.

“Kelly step back, like you said, I love him and he’s Mike’s Son. He’s with them” you announced with no intention of moving out of her way. You wanted nothing more than to acknowledge the man behind you but the fear of seeing that gun pointed at him topped the feeling of missing him and needing him right now. Dorn had stepped in now to cool Kelly off, causing her to lower the gun. You breathed as if you had been holding it in the whole time and your shoulders dropped int relief. You turned slowly, finally being offered the space and time to see him and feel him with him only inches away from you now. You stared at him lovingly, chest rising as you stared at him not uttering a single word. You could see him waiting for you, it was what you both had been waiting for.

You looked at him, from top to bottom, noting that he looked absolutely battered and whispered in relief “Armando?”

He took this as you asking for him, which you had been and opened his arms to which you threw yourself at. He held on to you for dear life and you did the same, you hugged him so tight you may have started cutting off his circulation, but he hadn’t contested so you continued. His arms wrapped around your waist and head dipped to reach you with your head resting on his shoulders leaning into his neck and taking in his scent.

“I missed you so much baby” you mumbled in his neck as he hugged you. Peppering kisses all over his neck while he whispered sweet nothings to you.

“I’ve dreamt of this mi amor, you are so beautiful baby, I love you so much” he whispered near your ear, peppering with almost as many kisses.

You pulled from him slightly and looked up at him, pulling his face closer to you with both your hands cupping his cheeks. He immediately kissed you taking control with his hands still in your waist pulling you closer to him. He wasted no time at all slipping in his tongue, which you had no issues to at all with and reciprocated almost moaning at the feeling of him, but you held back knowing there may be an audience. You pulled from him, breathing heavily and rested your forehead on his, he lifted one hand to your face and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Why are you here?” He asked again, completely dumbfounded that you were right here and how.

“Do you want me to go?” You chuckled joking as you moved to hug his side allowing him to wrap one arm around your waist.

“No never mi amor, you stay right here” he chuckled back pulling you closer to him, which caused you to smile softly nodding as your head rested on his chest.

“I came here to find you” you mumbled in his chest hugging him tighter almost as if he would slip from you. His touch and his warmth already made you feel so comforted and safe and loved, and it only been 5 minutes. Your heart stiffened at thought of losing him again.

“You found me baby” he confirmed, kissing the top of your head leaving you smiling in his chest. He had definitely gained some muscle while in prison and you weren’t complaining. “Ok you too, we’ve had enough of this reunion, really. I had no idea you’d be here y/n” Marcus interrupted which made you laugh sweetly. Armando, not so much, he just mumbled something about not being funny at Marcus being annoying which you giggled at.

#armando x reader #jacob scipio #armando aretas #bad boys #bad boys 4

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callalillywrites · 3 months ago

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The Huntsman's Mission

My third entry for Bucky Barnes Birthday Bingo (hosted by @avengers-assemble-bingo). This time we're getting the Royalty AU with a bit of a fairy tale twist. All of this can be blamed on Halsey's Castle. This story just wrote itself once I listened to it a few times on repeat (not a hardship because I love the song).

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Huntman!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Other characters: Steve Rogers

Summary: Your evil stepmother, the queen, has decided to do away with you, so she enlists the Huntsman to complete the task. It turns out the Huntsman is none other than your friend, Jamie Barnes. The real question is if he's going to go through with her command or find some way to save you.

Word Count: ~1330

Warnings: threat of death/violence (not by Bucky); bound character; impending death of character (Reader); twist ending; nothing too graphic but implied; lmk if I missed anything

A/N: I'm not saying I could be talked into making this a full-fledged fic, but I could absolutely make this into a full-fledged fic if there's enough interest. It's definitely a bit outside what I usually write, but I think that's why it definitely fascinates me to keep going and build this world up.

A/N2: Bucky goes by Jamie in this story, but it is Bucky.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

It shouldn't have happened like this.

You should be back in your castle, in your old room, where you're loved and cherished by your father and mother. You should be happily trying to get out of your lessons while finding solace in your many hobbies. It hadn't been like your mother and father hadn't doted on you.

It'd all gone so wrong, so fast.

One minute, you had a happy family and a happy kingdom.

The next, your mother was gone.

Your father remarried mere months later.

Your new stepmother turned out to be a real witch, complete with magical powers. She'd used them to banish your father to some place unknown. She'd stripped you of your title and tossed you into the servants' quarters where you were expected to earn your keep. She'd transformed your happy kingdom into a sad and dreary one as she hoarded all its beauty and wealth for herself, leaving none for your people.

When you thought she couldn't do worse, she did.

You found yourself staring into the soulless eyes of one of your oldest and truest friends. A boy now turned into a young man. One that has seen war beyond his years and bore the scars of countless battles. His dark hair hung almost to his shoulders, situated just so one couldn't make out more than shadows across his features.

So transformed himself, you almost didn't recognize him.

Huntsman.

That's what he called himself.

He'd bound your hands tight with rough rope before yanking you off your tiny cot. His steps dragged you from the palace and paraded through all those that served you and with you over the years. Your soft pleas to stop went unheard as he kept going even as you stumbled and tripped behind him. Your shame and confusion not once helping with the matter at hand.

"Why are you doing this, Jamie?" you practically shouted once he'd taken you beyond the castle's gates. "Please, you're my friend. Do you hate me this much? My family?"

Icy blue eyes slammed into yours. His hands jerked at the rope until you stumbled right into him. He didn't let you fall though, grabbing you around the shoulders. Leaning in until your faces were mere centimeters apart, his voice, raspy from prolonged disuse, dripped with desperation, trembling with a shaky breath, "I have no choice, princess. The queen has given me no choice."

His answer rendered you speechless for all of two seconds, snapping back, "We all have a choice."

"Not this time," he said, shaking his head and turning his back to you once more. His hand tugged at the short rope and dragged you onward.

You'd lost track of how long you'd been forced to walk. The sun had been high in the sky when he'd first pulled you out of your room with your hands bound. Now, the sun had started its slow descent at the horizon, the bottom already dipping out of sight. The castle, once so majestic with the sun highlighting it, had disappeared from your sight as you traversed the uneven stones and dirt beneath your feet. The same feet that had begun to ache in such a way that you were certain you'd have blisters from the too-tight and overly worn slippers that adorned them.

It wasn't until the sun had dipped completely, leaving only the softest rays to highlight the area, that this Huntsman, your once-sweet Jamie, halted his steps. His gaze surveyed your surroundings with a keenness that had you scooting closer for fear that something dangerous lurked nearby, waiting to attack at its earliest convenience.

You jolted when a low hum escaped him. The noise so unlike any of the grunts and puffed breaths he'd let loose during your long trek. It took you a moment to realize it was a pleased sound.

Glancing around his broad shoulders, you soon discovered why.

A small band of men blocked your further passage along the roadway. They each had a bearing about them that didn't exactly spell comfort in your opinion, but their presence seemed to settle something within your captor. His shoulders relaxed and his breathing smoothed out.

"Thought you'd be late," he said, his voice gruff as he acknowledged the group. "You get everything I told you to?"

The man in the middle stepped forward, giving you the first real glimpse of him.

It took everything in you not to gasp at the man's appearance, so unlike the way he'd looked the last you'd seen him. The possibility of such a transformation should've been impossible, but then so should an evil queen capable of magic.

"Took us a bit, but yeah, we got it," Steve said, his gaze moving towards you. A grin spread across his face upon seeing what had to be a surprised expression on yours. "Ah, wondered if you'd recognize me, princess. Glad to see you haven't forgotten."

"I've never forgotten a single person in my kingdom," you huffed with an indignant tone. "I'm my father's daughter after all."

Steve's smile softened as he regarded you, nodding. "That you are, princess. Silly of me to have forgotten that."

Silence descended briefly between you all.

In that time, Jamie turned toward you, pulling out a large knife. One quick, efficient strike had your bindings falling away. His gaze met yours through his long strands before he shifted to meet Steve's own curious gaze. "Keep her safe. Take her far away from here. The queen must never know what's happened or it'll be all our lives. You understand that, punk?"

"Yeah, I got it." Steve nodded. "We'll take her and keep her safe, jerk."

Apparently satisfied, Jamie allowed himself a final glance in your direction, murmuring, "Take care of yourself, princess."

"Wait," you said, reaching out and grabbing hold of his jacket, "you're not going back there? Please, Jamie, I just got you back."

The corner of his lip curved upward for a mere second before his face turned almost stone-like again.

A sob threatened to rip out of you as you demanded, "At least tell me we'll see each other again. I can't let you go back without that promise."

His stony countenance cracked the smallest bit, a shaky breath working its way out of him. His face twisted as though he'd tasted something bitter as he promised, "We'll see each other again."

The lie rested between you, but that lie gave you some hope that it could become a truth. You would cling to that lie as long as you could. As long as you didn't have proof that something had happened to him. It would be a lie that would lead to your mission to retake everything the evil queen, your stepmother, had taken from you. It would be the lie that liberated your people and restored you to your rightful place, not as princess but as queen.

*****

James Barnes watched from the shadows as you left with Steve and his small band of men.

He'd done exactly as he'd promised he'd do for your father all those years ago. He'd kept you safe from the clutches of your evil stepmother, and he'd keep doing it as long as he drew breath.

With you safely tucked away, he made quick work of the poor creature needed to complete his subterfuge. If his mind kept traveling back to you and how beautiful you'd grown, he couldn't help it. His hands had long since memorized the movements necessary to carry out his work while his mind wandered.

It took mere moments before he filled the sack with the remnants he needed, hefting it over his shoulder and trudging back the way he had come.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd get the chance to see you again.

Of all the lies he's told over the years, this was the one he really wanted to turn into a truth. He wanted to be by your side as you reclaimed everything you deserved and more.

#4bbingo #bucky barnes birthday bingo #royalty au #fairy tale au #snow white au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #implied violence #tw kidnapping #huntsman bucky barnes #princess reader #female reader

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angelanimedesaray · 3 months ago

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Wings in the Dark Chapter 30: Stability

AN: *Comes back after a year since this was written, grabs the old an about coming back with a bang and throws it in the trash, turns to the audience*

I am a year or so or however long its been older and wiser and a pending bipolar and/or adhd diagnosis in limbo until I drag my ass to the doctor, cat got hit by a car, really bad financial drama happened at work that may have been the worst stressor ever we will NOT get into--THINGS HAPPENED!

And I know better than to make any promises with my fickleness, but i'm trying, this story is always in my brain (As well as a sw fanfic but that's not for here) and I have no intention of leaving this story untold, I even came back with new ideas to add to the space of five years between fall of the wall and appearance of Eren I was puzzling over when i went on hiatus. BUT we have all seen the patterns, I will go on hiatus' and randomly come back with more chapters. Hopefully this time I stick with it a bit longer, I had at least two chapters written before I disappeared, so you'll AT LEAST get those.

Oh, and before I turn it over to the content, year+ ago me wanted you to know I was getting back into writing the characters and to forgive characterization inconsistencies while I got back into it, this chapter went through 5 rewrites before it got to this state, and apparently had some whiplash with the song vibes as I was listening to Call of Silence from the OST and Till It Hurts by Yellow Claw on a two song repeat writing this last draft.

Also, new WITD divider image from saradika-graphics here on tumblr

Okay, have fun! I'm going to go work on chapter 32! I'll tell you where I'm at writing wise NOW when we get to that chapter O.o

Characters: Levi, Vampire!Fem!Reader, Erwin, OC Vampire Character (Emery), Eld (Briefly)

Pairing: Levi x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Blood Drinking (Discussed), Spice but not Smut (Biting, Making Out, steamy stuff like that)

Word Count: 11922

<---Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Reader’s POV*

The state of the Underground hadn’t gotten any better since you’d last been here.

Not that you expected it to, the place reeked, was drenched in filth and stale air, and there were people lurking in the shadows that were either on death’s door or were leering at passerby’s waiting for someone that looked like an easy mark or seemed to have something worth taking.

While you and Emery traveled into the depths of the dark city, you glared at anyone that looked your way and thought the fresh and youthful faced Emery was an easy mark, easily scaring them off with your more imposing presence that threatened death at best if they tried to mark your companion for their crimes. Emery, at least, seemed to have heard enough stories about the Underground, or had indeed taken to heart your many warnings and briefings on the way down here, and stayed a half step behind you the whole time despite his own vampiric strength being capable of keeping him safe from nearly every thug and shadowy individual the two of you passed.

It was a good thing you’d been careful to teach him how to block out sensory information before delving down here–he’d only gagged seven times since coming down here when his concentration slipped, which wasn’t bad at all.

As you reached the darker depths of the Underground, the places where the shadows loomed darker, the mud never truly dried, and a presence of dread pressed upon passerbys, you gestured for Emery to follow you into one of the abandoned buildings a couple blocks in, allowing the two of you at least a moment to pause and make sure you were both prepared for what came next.

Namely, Emery.

When you turned to look at him, you could see even in the shut in darkness of the empty warehouse how pale he looked, and not just from thirst. There was a tremble in his hand, and he swallowed painfully loudly when your gaze met his.

“I don’t want to do this,” Emery hissed softly into the darkness. He’d been gradually getting worse as the days passed, and you had discovered he’d been preying on birds and squirrels and other small animals that happened to be in the immediate area around the cave in an attempt to keep himself satiated. However, there wasn’t enough to keep the thirst at bay, and eventually he’d had no choice but to relent and follow you to satisfy the craving. That didn’t mean that he fully agreed. Or that he was willing. He was just running out of options, and the hunger was starting to take precedence, even over his morality.

Considering he was digging in his heels again, though, that resistance was still there.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair under your cloak as you gazed back at the terrified young man. “Emery, we’ve been through this–”

“No, I know what you’re going to say, but I can’t do this, I don’t want to kill anyone,” Emery hissed back in the darkness, panic coloring his tone.

“I understand that, believe me, I do–”

“No, you don’t, not really, otherwise you wouldn’t be pushing me to do this, you wouldn’t have done this yourself, I don’t want to be a monster–” Emery panicked, starting to work himself into hysterics. You had to get a grasp on this before it spiraled out of control.

Burying the slash of pain in your chest at the statement calling you and what you’d done to survive in the past monstrous, you carefully stepped up to the young man who was starting to hyperventilate in front of you, placing gentle hands on his arms to try and soothe him. “Emery, breathe…deep breaths…you need to settle down, before you draw attention to us,” you told him seriously but in as gentle of a tone as you could manage, trying to catch his gaze as it darted around at your surroundings.

You’d been slowly refining this speech for this moment, specifically, and you sincerely hoped that it was going to be good enough to convince him, this time.

“I do understand, because I’ve been where you’re at, right now. And in the past I was so scared of myself and of hurting–killing–other people, I tried to die before I could. Clearly it didn’t work, but…I do understand that fear,” you said steadily, feeling a brief flash of relief when Emery looked at you with wide eyes at the little bit of yourself you offered him to get him to see that you did, in fact, understand the feelings he was struggling with. “I don’t want to make you a monster or a murderer, Emery. I’m trying to help you avoid that, in the long run. But right now, it can’t be helped. You have to drink to survive. But you don’t have the control for a donor even if I could find you one, the forest animals aren’t enough for you to live on, and the animals not only are vital to the people starving because of a food shortage right now, but as long as you’re drinking from them, you’re never going to be able to learn the control to be around people again without being a threat to them. It’s ugly, and dark, and messy, and bloody, but you have to go through this stage first before you can get better.”

You squeezed his shoulders in reassurance, making sure to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to go through this alone like I did, though. I’m here to help you, okay? You’ll get through this, and eventually you won’t have to kill to survive anymore. But you have to get through this part, first, and that’s what I’m trying to help you do, but you have to let me.”

Emery’s eyes seemed to shine even in the darkness, expression distraught and lost as his shoulders sagged under your hands. “I can’t…I can’t take hurting anyone else. I can’t do it…”

Your heart throbbed, looking up and around at the warehouse around you as if it might give you answers, while the teenager in front of you struggled not to sob with the enhanced despair crushing down on his too-pure soul for this bloody life.

There was no way you were going to get him to hunt on his own tonight. He wasn’t capable of that same thing you could do where you could mentally and emotionally distance yourself from the kill, compartmentalize it into a dark bloody box in the recesses of your mind and let it hurt like a dull ache at the bottom of your heart when your thoughts wandered to its contents. But he needed blood, or he was going to get dangerous, and he needed to start learning this so he could be more self-sufficient. You couldn’t keep leaving him to small fuzzy animals in the wilds and the dark solitude of a cave, which was all he would get if he didn’t make this step.

…you could at least meet him halfway. He wasn’t ready to do this himself, wasn’t ready for a kill, was in no state for it tonight and probably wouldn’t be for some time still. But there were still things you could do to compromise, to help him make progress without pushing him to do this thing he was terrified to do, and justifiably.

You could save the philosophical discussion about killing to survive and if vampires killing for the blood they needed to live fell into that grace area or not another time, when he was well fed and you weren’t standing in an abandoned building in one of the more dangerous parts of the Underground. Right now, you just had to get him to feed.

“Okay. I’m not going to make you do something you can’t do, Emery,” you tell him softly, and his shaking, half sobbed breaths caught for a moment at the statement. You didn’t judge him for how quickly he fell into tears and sobs, knowing he was still struggling with the emotional control and this was, after all, a highly charged and emotional topic–and he was, immortal or not, a literal kid–a teenager. “But you still need to learn to hunt properly, and we need to start actively teaching you control. I’ll do the dirty work tonight. I’ll teach you how to do the hunt, you’ll do most of it under my supervision, but I’ll make the kill and you can have the blood afterwards. It will still be good long enough for you to take what you need, it takes a little while for the blood to go stagnant and…sour, so to speak, to dead man’s blood.”

Emery still looked ill, but he recognized this compromise you were offering him for the gift it was. Not having to do the act itself…he would still be complicit, yes, but at least his hands wouldn’t be directly bloody. That’s what you were thinking, anyway, why you offered it.

“I don’t know if I can…choose who lives and dies like that,” Emery said in a hushed tone, though his shaking had eased and he seemed to be calming down.

“Then I’ll pick the target–this time. I’ll show you how it’s done, and you just watch…you don’t have to watch me kill them, though. Just be ready to hurry over to start drinking before the blood can go stale. Deal?” you compromised again.

Emery hesitated. He was far too gentle. Whoever had made this poor kid into a vampire was cruel, putting someone with this much kindness and passivity in his heart into this position where he had to spill blood to survive, where being around people tempted him to go into a blood haze, to rend and murder anyone in its path, until he could gain control of his new alien bloodlust.

Gentle hearts did not mix well with vampirism. This wasn’t going to be easy for him. In fact, it was likely to be more hellish on the heart and soul for Emery than it had been for you. After you had turned, you'd gradually discovered steel in your spine and fire in your heart; that you could be sharp as a blade and hard as the walls when you needed to survive. Either Emery didn't have that at all, or he just hadn't found it yet.

Hopefully the latter was the case, for both your sakes.

“Okay,” he murmured in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. He seemed to go weak in the knees after agreeing, like his agreement to the bloodshed had been some kind of physical blow.

You gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder before you released him, keeping an eye on him to make sure he wasn’t going to sway and topple over once you let him go before you turned your attention back to the Underground that stretched out around you outside the abandoned building.

“We’ll talk more about survival and morality and everything else, later. First…I’ll get you some blood,” you murmured, steps sure all the way to the doorway, waiting until Emery reluctantly fell into step behind you before your footsteps turned into a hunter’s prowl, and you started the ritual you hadn’t needed to execute since Levi had offered you the alternative you wished desperately to give the gentle-hearted kid you’d been teaching the past few weeks.

Later. You could reflect on this later. For now…the hunt.

*Levi’s POV*

She was back much earlier than he’d been expecting.

Levi had gone through his tea a lot faster than normal, already on the third cup and having switched from regular black tea to poking through his options once or twice to try and find something that would help him stay awake and alert like he wanted but would also help calm down his damn nerves. He was seated at one of the corner tables that gave him a better chance at being overlooked by any late night visitors, one hand continued to fill out the paperwork he’d brought to distract him between the page turns and the time it took him to read what was in front of him, while the other traced along the rim of his freshly made cup of tea, still fresh enough that steam wafted into the air a few shades lighter than the smoke burning from the candle flame. He’d found it ridiculously difficult to focus on his paperwork, yet his gaze kept flickering to the candle shedding the light he was working by, unable to stop looking as it slowly melted, tracking each half hour that she was down there in the Underdark. It felt like he was hyper aware of every minute that slipped by, which made it frustratingly difficult to successfully distract himself with his work while he waited for her return.

He had yet to successfully distract himself and stop glancing over at the candle when she did appear, still wrapped up in her plain cloak with a deep frown marring her features as she stepped inside, immediately garnering Levi’s attention.

“What the hell are you doing back so early?” Levi asked, paperwork quickly forgotten at the sight of her. The only reasons she would be back this early was if something had gone very wrong, or if things had progressed much faster and smoother than she had been anticipating.

Given their track record with the Underground, Levi wasn’t going to get his hopes high that it was anything other than bad.

Y/N’s gaze flickered over to him, but she didn’t deviate from her course towards the kitchens. “Let me get something to drink, first, and I’ll tell you what happened,” she offered.

As she passed, Levi did a quick glance over her just to make sure she was at least outwardly fine. No blood on her cloak, though she usually washed away any she may have gotten on her before returning to headquarters, she wasn’t moving strange, there wasn’t anything that looked scuffed or dirty, she didn’t seem to be hurt–aside from the frown, she seemed fine, which was a bit of consolation despite the concern her early return and the frown on her face stirred up.

Even though he could see that outwardly, physically, she was fine, he still didn’t wait. She’d barely entered the kitchen before he decided he was going to follow, getting up to enter the kitchen after her, where she had already discovered the tea kettle Levi had been using, teacup in hand and ready to start making herself the usual cup of chamomile.

Levi crossed the room before she could even finish turning around to face him, a bit of surprise on her face when she found him already in her personal space, one of his hands reaching out to cover her hand resting on the teacup, keeping both hand and cup still against the counter while keeping her in place as his other hand reached out to brace against the counter on her other side. He studied her closer, attempting to gauge from her eyes and the way she was acting just how bad it had been.

“Tell me what happened,” Levi said, firm enough to be borderline a command, but soft enough that his voice betrayed the worry that was spurring on the inquiry that couldn’t even wait for her to brew a cup of tea.

Y/N’s startled expression only stayed for a few more moments before it softened, a hand coming up to rest on his cheek with her fingertips curling gently along his jawline to soothe him. It did work a bit–he couldn’t help the way he reacted to the touch, the warmth and the comfort that started to spread through him at such a tender gesture–though it didn’t erase the worry coursing through him.

“Nothing serious happened, Levi, not in the way you’re probably thinking right now,” she soothed him, though his tension didn’t melt away due to the spark of worry she couldn’t hide in her eyes–there was still something to be concerned about. “There weren’t any hunters, there weren’t any hitches in the hunt itself, no other vampires crept up–nothing serious like that.”

“But something still happened,” Levi deadpanned, gaze unwavering from her own, especially since it kept giving her away–the flash of unease at his statement, for example. Her eliminating other vampires and hunters and remarking that the hunt went smoothly meant that it had to be Emery, based on what information Levi did have.

Did the bloodlust come a little too easily for her to be comfortable? Did she get more confirmation of his ripper tendencies? She spoke highly of the kid’s character, or at the very least kept reiterating how he was tender and gentle and good hearted, but Levi had not–and she had better not–forgotten what he was capable of, the potential violence he could grow into and the kind of real monster it could breed. All the kindness and even personal bonds in the world wasn’t enough in the face of a vampire’s first years of thirst, as Y/N’s gruesome story of how she’d been turned and the butcher Emery had caused at the scent of blood bleakly attested to.

Standing this close to her, he could still smell a faint whiff of the Underground on her, and alongside it, the faintest hint of blood. Something he didn’t expect to catch on her if Emery was the one that was supposed to be doing the killing.

Before he could finish making the connections, she finally spoke up, sighing wearily before she let her hand trail down from his cheek to rest gently over his heart, the other hand still trapped within Levi’s own against the counter.

“Emery couldn’t do it, so I had to,” she finally said. “I don’t know how much of a role his heightened emotions that he still hasn’t gotten control of play in it, how much of it is stalwartly at his core, but he’s just too…soft-hearted. Normally I say being a gentle person isn’t a bad thing, but in this case he just…started to shatter on the spot, fell right into hysterics, could not do it, so I had to compromise. Told him to watch and try to learn what I was doing, but I would do the actual hunt and he could reap the results so he’s not still starving up in that mountain.”

She looked off to the side where the tea kettle was still sitting as she spoke. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if he can’t get past this, make this work in a way for him that will allow him a bit of self sufficiency when it comes to his survival. I’m not even sure how to teach him this if this is my starting point, I wasn’t expecting it to be at this point. If he can’t get past this, if he continues to outright refuse like he did tonight…I can’t hunt for him forever, he can’t feed on animals, he won’t be able to compel anyone for decades–I can’t even do that yet. I’m not sure what to do with him, now.”

Levi had listened closely through her explanation, studying her quietly and turning over the information she gave him in his mind as he considered what he should say, taking care to try and figure out the right words to use considering this was a topic that touched on some sensitive topics she was still carrying around with her. Since she was still looking away as she finished speaking, Levi reached out to gently grasp her chin and tilt her head back towards him, thumb briefly stroking side to side across her chin.

On the one hand, the news was quick to rile his anger, gaze narrowing slightly to hear that she had needed to take matters into her own hands and get even more blood on them, even though she was supposed to be finally free of taking human life to survive with Levi providing her blood, instead. She was supposed to be working to wash the blood off like she had told him was part of her intention for being here, now that she wasn’t adding any more–or wasn’t supposed to be, anyway. They’d been arguing about the risk to her going back Underground, how much danger it put her in–Levi hadn’t even brought up how crucial of a part she was starting to play in the Scouts and how putting her in danger was also threatening to deal a harsh blow to the Scouts and their improving death rates arguably when it mattered most that they continue to progress. She was taking these risks, putting herself back in danger, now getting more blood on her hands to try and help this kid, and he wasn’t making an attempt to make this work? She wasn’t talking about backing out, she was upset about not knowing what to do next to help him. If she kept going down there and doing this for the young vampire, if she kept putting herself in increasing danger and he continued to refuse to follow what she was trying to teach him…

He could see this ending very badly if it continued in this direction, and could see her bearing the brunt of it. But he could also see why she was doing it, why she was still inclined to find a way to make it work. What she saw of this kid told her that he was a good kid–too good, ironically, since therein lay the crux of the issue–and it was a reassurance that he didn’t take human life so lightly, that it was something he was truly struggling with…

But it wasn’t so cut and dry. Emery’s decisions about this were going to have an impact far beyond him, were going to affect Y/N, and by extension the Scouts. And if he didn’t learn to control himself, didn’t put in the work–as bloody as it was–to get to a similar place as Y/N, then a lot of people–more innocent people–were going to suffer and die along the way for it, either directly or indirectly. There wasn’t really a good choice here, but when the hell was there? The choice the kid had in front of him was to either learn to control himself, not hurt as many people, and try to direct the carnage away from the more innocent until he developed the control and connections to get to a similar place as Y/N in the future, or he could continue to refuse, never really learning how to control his thirst, any human that bleeds around him always under great threat, some even just needing to get near him to be in danger, and Y/N possibly suffering deadly consequences for it–Levi could lose her along that path despite having just started to really have her in his life, not to mention the Scouts and Humanity would lose their best weapon against the titans and chance for more people surviving in that worse case scenario.

Levi knew exactly what choice Emery should make, in Levi’s mind–Levi would have already made it by now if he could. The second choice wasn’t an option Levi was going to accept, at least not to that extent. It didn’t make the first choice right, per say–Levi and Y/N had already had the complicated discussions about her old diet, and Levi had already made his feelings on the matter clear back then. But Levi wasn’t going to let the situation develop to the point that many people suffered for the inaction of one teenage vampire. And if Emery wanted to follow along the second path, then Y/N wasn’t going to get caught in the crossfires for it, she’d have to cut her losses before the situation got any worse.

Levi’s hand tightened around Y/N’s as he came to his resolution, gaze roaming over her features. This could easily become another fight...

“You’re not going to have to hunt for him anymore,” Levi said decisively. Y/N’s gaze turned wary in the face of the hard edge in Levi’s eyes, and Levi let go of her chin and pushed away, taking the teacup that had been in her hand in the process as he headed over to the tea kettle.

“I will if I can’t get him out of his own head and convince him to actually hunt, which was what I was trying to do before we went out today…not that it worked.”

Levi took a few seconds to start making her tea for her, giving himself the little extra time to put the right words together.

“You see yourself in him,” Levi stated, simply summing up the conversation they’d had the night they’d returned from the chaos of the fall of Wall Maria. “You want to treat him gently, because you wish someone had been there for you that way when you first turned.”

Her silence was enough confirmation for him to continue.

“But you can’t. Back then, there was only you at stake. For him, there’s a hell of a lot more damage that’ll be done if this goes south,” Levi said flatly, coming back over to where she was standing to hand her the cup. She took it wordlessly, but the look on her face was…less than pleased. Well, she wasn’t going to get any happier with what else he had to say.

“He’s not you, and you’re not him, so stop comparing. You were able to figure out your situation and make quick choices to survive and stuck with it, took the consequences. He’s indecisive and dragging his feet, making a shitstorm that could affect a hell of a lot more people. He doesn’t need coddled right now. He needs to get a face-full of the reality of the situation he’s in and make a choice. That way you know if you need to get out before you pay for it, or if he’s going to step up and put in some effort to survive.”

Y/N hesitated, both hands curled around her cup. “I don’t want to push him too hard too fast, it’s always like he’s a few seconds away from shattering. And it’s hard to be harsh with him, knowing what he’s going through, how terrifying it all is.”

We’re all just a bunch of bleeding hearts, it seems.

Levi sighed, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the table behind him, fixing his stare on her. “If you won’t give him a reality check, then I will.”

Her head snapped up at that, gaze a lot sharper and focused now, eyes narrowed on him. “I thought we were done having the discussion of why that’s a bad idea, and you going anywhere near him isn’t going to happen?”

“The situation’s changed. Again. If you don’t want to push him, then someone else needs to step in and do it. I’m the obvious choice.”

As always, at this rate.

“Levi–”

“No,” Levi cut her off, tone a bit harsher than he intended. “It’d be safer if I wasn’t around him, he doesn’t have control, I know, you’ve made all that clear. He already knows you have a human…” Levi paused, not sure he knew what the hell to label himself in this situation. “...whatever, and part of the reason you’ve been allowed to go forward with this is your insistence you can control him.”

“I’m not setting up a meeting between you two. It’d be too dangerous, too unpredictable and–”

“And the titans aren’t?” Levi snapped back. “If I can handle you in a spar, I can handle the kid. Between the two of us, we can manage if he loses his shit.”

He wasn’t insane enough to go alone, otherwise he’d have just done it himself already. And the two of them were the best equipped to handle vampires. Sure, there were all kinds of ways it could go, but if both of them were there and prepared to do damage control, they had a better chance of keeping the situation contained with little to no fallout.

And this would give him the chance to size up Emery for himself and get a good read on the kid.

“I’m not dangling you in front of Emery with how little control he has–he may not even be capable of listening to you around any bloodlust he ends up having, which would defeat the whole point of you meeting him.”

“If you want to help this kid, I can’t go to Erwin with ‘it didn’t go well, the kids refusing to learn, Y/N doesn’t know what to do’. Erwin will cut the loss,” Levi said flatly. “You’ve been trying to prepare him for this your way–it didn’t work. Even if he ends up too blood crazy to speak to, I can’t give you any better advice until I see for myself.”

The two of them had a stare down in silence for several long moments, waiting to see who would back out, first. Levi wasn’t going to budge. He’d let her try, let her have her way, they’d scrapped over it, he’d relented, but now…now, she really did need him involved if this was going to work. She was being far too gentle with Emery at the moment.

Not that Levi didn’t pity the poor kid. Y/N had been an adult when she was turned, albeit barely. This kid was in the middle of his teenage years, which probably didn’t help with the erratic emotions. And it truly was a shit situation to be in, to be a freshly turned vampire–even worse at a time like this with the recent fall of a wall and massive food shortage. But pitying the situation wasn’t going to do anything to get him out of it, and pity wasn’t going to do shit in making sure the kid wasn’t frozen up decision wise anymore and not putting himself and Y/N at risk.

“Fine. Fine.” Y/N finally relented, looking away and taking a long drink out of her cup, looking more frustrated than Levi had seen her in a while. “But we’re doing it my way. How we arrange and go about it, I mean,” she added when she saw Levi was about to correct her. Giving Emery a reality check was going to be done Levi’s way.

“Sooner, not later,” Levi stressed.

“I know, just…give me time to give him the heads up first, try to talk about what happened and tell him you’re going to be coming to meet him, because of how…poorly, it went.”

“I’ll make sure you have free time today to go see him.”

“And when you two do meet, we’ll do it during the day, so you can have the added protection of the sun. You can stand outside the cave, and he won’t be able to come near you, not even if he was in a blood frenzy. Though it’ll also be more of a trip, since we’re headed up a mountain on the northwestern side of Wall Sina.”

“We can get an official excuse set up with Erwin.”

A silence fell over the room between them, Y/N continuing to sip on the tea. He still had his in the other room, and paperwork, but there were more personal things he wanted to do and say with her…They probably needed to leave the mess hall, anyway. It was only an old habit that had Levi set up here to wait for her this time, but if Emery got over his indecision and they kept going to the Underground while he learned, then in the future…

“Let me get my shit, and we’ll head up to my office. Last thing we need is some moon eyed rookie wandering in while we’re talking,” Levi said to break the silence, getting up to head back to the dining area. Y/N finished her tea and shadowed him without hesitation, staying a couple steps behind along the way.

Levi started to gather up the paperwork, trying to get the tea he’d left sitting by the papers down before they left and while there was still heat to it. As he did, Y/N came up behind him, her hand brushing gently along his back and remaining on his shoulder blade as she leaned over beside him, helping him gather up the candles and a fair share of his stack.

Levi felt a little of his inner tension drain away at the touch and gesture. She wasn’t angry at him, then, and no fight. Some resistance, some frustration…but no fight. Good…good, she understood, she accepted it, they weren’t going to have to muscle through another rocky spot with each other. She was going to accept the help.

She had asked. She might not like the way he was going to help, but she had asked for help when she opened up to him about not knowing what to do about the situation.

“Do you want help with some of this?”

Levi glanced over at the half of the stack she had in her hand. It was a lot of paperwork, he’d left enough to keep him busy through the night on purpose. But he needed to actually take in the information, put his own signature on things…

“No.”

She looked at him, studying his expression as he leaned over to add the small stack he’d already worked through on top. As he straightened, she leaned over to kiss his cheek, holding the stack in her arms tighter to her.

“I’ll just help where I can fill in information, then,” she mused, already pulling away to start walking now that they had everything gathered between the two of them.

“Tch…”

But he didn’t say she shouldn’t, and the sound of protest was soft. He didn’t actually mind…it was a good excuse for her to stay a bit longer.

The hour was still late enough that their trip from the mess hall to Levi's office was undisturbed, a comfortable silence between them as they traversed the halls. Once inside, Levi still made sure that the door was locked behind them to make sure no one could interrupt, just in case. He didn't expect anyone to come knocking at this time of night if Y/N was already here, but with their track record, he'd rather be safe than sorry.

Levi and Y/N both made their way to his desk, setting their respective piles on the surface before they took seats at opposite sides of the desk. Levi shook his head at her insistence to pitch in with his paperwork, but didn't protest, and they fell into a comfortable routine surprisingly fast.

There were the usual finished and unfinished stacks, of course, but Y/N had also created smaller stacks by the unfinished pile, one that was paperwork she'd filled out for him but still needed read or signed, and another for pages she couldn't help with. As they both added to or took from the piles, their knuckles would occasionally brush against one another, fingertips lingering the few times she handed him a document when they would finish at the same time.

Levi found the work going by much faster, more comfortably, with her there…and not just because she was doing a small portion of it for him. The pages went by faster, the work didn't feel so tiring, and suddenly there were only a few stray papers in the piles she'd sorted for him left to do. Y/N had wandered over to the couch once she'd done what she could, laying down with a soft whoosh of air that barely resembled a sigh. She didn't speak while Levi continued to work, the candlelight growing smaller and the shadows longer until Levi decided enough was enough. What remained were pages he could do in the morning, there were other things he could be doing right now–and wanted to do.

Levi carefully removed his cravat, fingers brushing against the bandage he'd forgotten was hidden beneath. It definitely stopped bleeding by now, he could probably take the damned thing off.

It was a slight detour, but he came back minus a jacket, cravat, and bandage, the small bite wound properly cleaned up and hardly noticeable, and Y/N was still stretched out on the couch, having not made a sound or so much as twitched.

…Dammit, she's asleep, isn't she?

Levi didn't even have to come all the way around the couch to confirm it, he could peer over the edge and see that she was passed out asleep, lips parted, head turned into the cushions and pillowed under one arm, breathing slow and deep.

So much for spending a bit of one on one time together before getting some sleep. He’d been hoping to have a bit of time to set aside business and the serious stuff and simply reassure himself that she was all right and with him, but if this was the most he would get…

His sigh was admittedly a disappointed one, even as he leaned against the edge of the couch with folded arms and watched her for a few moments. How comfortable did she have to be around him to fall asleep on the not-that-comfortable couch that quickly, and with so little fuss?

She’d come a long way to get where she was now. To go from scared barely adult just turned vampire driven underground, to now a cornerstone member of the Scouts (even if it was behind closed doors, only), improving the safety of the formations so they didn’t lose as many people, making plans that actually sounded plausible with Hange to help them capture and learn more about titans, she had friends, she had him–whatever they were, Levi still didn’t know what to label it. She’d come here to find a way to make her abilities as a vampire helpful to other people, to make the lives she’d had to take in order to survive and stay strong enough to survive worth something, and so far, it seemed she was in step with that goal.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone threaten to destroy that progress, not when she’d crawled her way here over the past few decades and was just starting to get a taste of freedom and happiness again, despite the insanity of all the ways the world seemed to be going to shit right now.

Levi straightened up from the couch and made his way over by the door, where his Scout cloak was hanging up. He snatched it off its hook without even looking, coming back over to where Y/N had passed out on his couch and carefully throwing it over the sleeping woman’s shoulders, taking the time to make sure that it was arranged in a way that would be comfortable for her and actually keep her warm. His hand lingered briefly on her shoulder, gazing at her still sleeping form for a few seconds before he made himself pull away, heading over to the desk to finish off those last few pages of paperwork he would have made wait for morning if she’d still been awake. Hopefully, when he finished, he’d be able to catch a few hours of sleep, himself.

He did, of course, finish his paperwork not long after his discovery that Y/N had fallen asleep, and after making sure the fire would last a bit longer into the night and everything was where it needed to be, he had settled back into the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes and simply listening to the soft sound of her breaths in the room and the crackle of the fire. He didn’t even notice when the moment of peace turned to drowsiness, or how quickly he fell asleep after those first few content moments just listening and relishing the moment.

When he started to come to again, it was to the crackle of a fresh fire, the faintest aroma of black tea leaves in the room, the pouring of water and light chink of porcelain, soft, barely heard steps and movements…

Levi was still lifting his head, still coming to a full awareness of the room around him when the steps drew closer, and the lightest touch brushed across his shoulder, causing him to tense for the first few heartbeats that he didn’t know where it was coming from before the familiar voice followed the tender touch.

“Good morning,” Y/N’s voice said softly just off to his side, causing Levi to blearily blink open his eyes to peer up at her, squinting against the light but relaxing against her touch once he realized it was her. He felt her lips press gently against the top of his head, feeling a warmth slowly settle over him at the affection that made it a little more difficult to shake off the morning grogginess.

His neck was a little stiff from how he’d been sleeping slouched over in his chair. He was also realizing that something was draped over him, giving him a thin shield against the chill of the room until the fire warmed it again, hand rising underneath it to discover the familiar feel of his cloak against his fingers. She must have put it around him in turn when she’d woken up.

“I just started heating up water for tea, it shouldn't be too long,” she continued in her quiet tone, and Levi hummed in response, leaning into the gentle touch upon his shoulder blade now that he realized it was her. He could certainly use the tea right now, he might have actually gotten a couple hours last night, and it was taking him a few seconds to shake himself out of the sleepy, guard down stupor.

Speaking of last night…

Levi started to sit up, hair tickling along his eyebrows, one hand tugging the cloak down, allowing it to fall to his lap. “You fell asleep before I could finish my work,” he rumbled, voice still sounding gruff even to his ears from just waking up.

What time was it? How much later than normal was it? His paperwork was done, at least, but he had meetings he had to do with Erwin now, training they still had to go through, coordinating with Y/N later about the Emery situation…

Depending on how much he’d slept in, he didn’t have the time to do what he’d been hoping for last night. If she hadn’t fallen asleep, he could have spent a couple hours with her winding down from the day without any work in the way, but now, the day was already calling–especially because he may be running behind.

Y/N’s hand slipped away from his shoulder, her footsteps moving away from him and likely over to finish making the tea. “I didn’t mean to–I guess I just got too comfortable? One minute I was just listening to you and the next–”

It was too soon after waking up to be trying to navigate to the right words right now. She thought he was complaining about her sleeping in his office? Even though he’d already allowed her to use his bedroom for her recoveries to be in peace in the past? And they’d both stayed in these quarters during his own recovery?

Levi’s hand threaded through his hair, brushing it out of his face and resting his head in his hand while his gaze relocated and tracked her as she moved around to make the tea. His other hand draped the cloak out of the way on the back of his chair for the time being.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he corrected her in a low mumble. “Falling asleep here was fine–if you needed the rest, then knock yourself out.”

…he didn’t mind when she fell asleep in here. He liked having her close, and seeing her that relaxed and comfortable in his presence had been…well, like many of the moments with her, it had been warm, and gave him a little taste of a content feeling, even if she wasn’t awake to engage with him like he’d been hoping for. But he relished in the quiet moments of companionship and peace her presence tended to bring, and that was the important part.

So long as she wasn’t obvious enough about it for people to figure out she was staying in his quarters instead of her own, he wouldn’t mind if it became a regular thing–he thought he may relish it, as well.

“Oh?” she asked. Her back was to him, so he couldn’t see how she was reacting to what he told her. He could just study her posture, the way she shifted her feet, the slight tilt of her head–she was acting casual, but he was fairly certain she was about to fish for more. “Then…what has you disgruntled? Besides just waking up, I mean.”

“Tch.”

The small noise was mostly drowned out by the huffed sigh he let out at the question, momentarily agitated that she was catching onto his residual disappointment in missing out on his plans for the night before. His fingers unthreaded from his hair, propping up his chin instead as she finally turned around to face him.

“I had shit I was going to do once you got back,” he grumbled, unable to help but sulk a little at the thought. If she hadn’t come back so early it had required an immediate discussion, if they hadn’t gotten busy with the paperwork, if she hadn’t fallen asleep afterwards…he’d just wanted more than just a few moments to hold her close to him, kiss her, reassure himself that she was okay, and take his sweet time doing it.

She came over to stand by his desk again, offering him the fresh cup of tea without a word, which Levi took carefully from her, fingers brushing gently, briefly, against hers as he examined the color, giving it a few more seconds to finish steeping before he took a sip.

She may have rushed putting it together a little, but it was as good as she usually made it.

She moved to lean against his desk, drawing Levi’s gaze sidelong to her with the teacup paused a few inches away from a second drink. “You know, you could…do whatever you wanted to last night, now. We have a bit of time. Maybe not as much, but still, some.”

…She may have a point. He didn’t have the time now to do as much, he couldn’t hold her however long he felt like it, afterwards, he had things he needed to start doing, since he may already be off to a late start. That didn’t mean he couldn’t do anything though. He could prioritize what he wanted the most, something that would get him by until they had the chance again, and steal a few moments before starting the day–he already had a late start, anyway, and it was a day that started when he decided. What was a few more stolen moments at the start?

Levi set his teacup aside, making sure it was well out of the way and not in danger of being knocked over as he turned to face her more fully, gaze roaming over her as he debated how he wanted to use the time they still had before the day’s work demanded their attention. He couldn’t just hold her to him in the silence of the room as long as he would want, but he could pull her close, feel how real and solid she was against him, reassure himself she was okay and things were good between them, not tense and strained.

His hand reached out for her sleeve to tug her closer to him, guiding her around the desk and over to where he was still seated behind the desk. Once she was easily within his arm’s reach, Levi pulled her to him with a bit more strength, hearing her gasp as she was pulled in, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her tightly to him as she fell into him. She caught herself, keeping her balance with her knee laying across his lap and her other foot stretched out behind her to keep herself stable, her hands placed instinctively against his chest to assist in keeping her balance with the close proximity. Once she was where he wanted her, he reached out to thread his hand into her hair, feeling the strands slip against his fingers as his hand came to rest against the warmth of her cheek, coaxing her forwards even as he tilted her head the way he needed her to be as he went in for a kiss.

This one wasn’t one of the timid, brief kisses that had filled much of their days recently–he went in with a fervor much like their first, or on the couch the evening prior. It was that closeness he wanted, and if he craved that physical reassurance that she was okay–was going to be okay–then he wanted to feel that liveliness between them when he kissed her like this. Where he couldn’t get enough of it, wanted more, and even surprised himself with how badly he seemed to need it.

Keeping her cradled close and secure against him, Levi could feel the surprise from the intensity that he came at her with in her lack of an initial response in those few seconds, where he was the one pouring all of the desire into the kiss with each needful press of his lips against hers. He might have pulled back if she had stayed still a moment longer, but when she seemed to come out of her surprise at his sudden fervent attention, she returned every ounce of that passion, stealing his breath in kind. Her hands slowly slide up the sides of his neck, causing a slight shiver down his neck before her fingers ran lightly against his undercut and up into his own hair in a grip that kept him locked–without complaint–in the kiss, her fingers teasing along the outer curves of his ears and her thumb tracing idly back and forth along his jaw.

His breath hitched at the tender touch, lips parting involuntarily with a gasp he was trying to keep down. Throwing away any pretense of trying to kiss her in some kind of ‘right way’, his fingers dug deeper into her hair in response, and the sound was swallowed up as he deepened the kiss. He didn’t care about kissing her in a ‘right way’ at the moment as much as he did in kissing her, in feeling more of her, of satisfying the hunger that had them locked together with such intensity.

She was warm and alive against him and he couldn’t get enough of it as it helped soothe the part of him that had been so restless the past week or so out of fear for her safety.

Their intensity did have them clash a bit more with their kiss than normal–sometimes he only managed to trap one of her lips between his with how she tilted her head in response to him or because she ducked low trying to go in for more when he arched higher. There were a few times where his teeth grazed along her lips, and he felt her shudder against him, which only encouraged him to do it again. Especially when those shudders were followed by a tightened grip from her and more fire in the way she kissed him, how she leaned more heavily into him.

She was the first one to break away from the kiss, gasping in air so sharply that it made Levi realize he was starting to get a little light headed from the lack of air, himself. He wasn’t done, though–not nearly. So as she gasped for air, Levi took a quick breath and leaned back in, planting a kiss at the corner of her mouth as she took in air. She didn’t squirm away, and with the thought of how tantalizing her kisses the evening before had been as they had blazed a trail away from his lips, he decided he’d try it for himself, see about blazing a trail of his own.

His lips moved a little further to the side, pressing against her flushed cheek and feeling a warmth seeping through his chest at the more tender seeming gesture amidst the more hungry kisses they’d been giving to one another. He went a little further back towards her ear, feeling a spark of pride as it seemed to make her gasp again and twitch from a sensitivity to the spot he managed to find as he started to work his way down to her jaw.

It felt like goosebumps broke out across his neck and down to his arms when he felt her return in kind, her lips easily finding their way to his jaw in return with how he was currently angled to kiss under hers. His hand, resting at her side just above her waist, clenched in the fabric of her uniform as she moved lower to where his jaw met his throat, managing to coax a soft grunt out of him in the process, arm flexing around her and coaxing her to lean more into him. One of her hands had abandoned the base of his skull where it had been brushing along his undercut and teasing strands of hair between her fingers, now moving lower towards his shoulder, smoothing over the back plate of his gear he had far too tight for her to slip her fingers under.

She wasn’t daunted by it, however. She coaxed a small gasp from him she might not have even heard as her hand simply traveled lower to trail along his spine where there wasn’t gear in the way, her other hand burying deeper into his hair to tilt his head in a familiar way that had his heart hammering in his chest, lips brushing against her throat for a brief moment at the new angle as he held his breath to see what would come next.

Her lips brushed along the bite mark from the evening before that had barely started to heal, causing his heart to skip a beat as he wondered if she was about to bite him again in the heat of the moment. She didn’t, though. Her lips were tender as they pressed against where one fang had pierced him, and then gently over the other, before she started outlining the mark on his neck with a series of soft kisses that had his breath catching with the tingling warmth it sent flashing through him.

Once he knew he wasn’t about to get bit again, he resumed what he’d been doing seconds ago, working his way slowly down her throat and feeling a rumble of a moan building in her chest, feeling a flash of pride and even a little excitement to be drawing that reaction out of her with his attention to her throat for once.

A knock at the door pulled him sharply out of the heat of the moment and back into their time-limited present, growling against her skin loud enough to drown out the little noise of dismay that escaped her lips at the sound as Levi felt his ire rapidly rear its head.

Now was not the time to be intruding upon him, and whoever it was better have a damn good reason for interrupting him.

“What?” he snapped loud enough for whoever was on the other side of the door to hear him, voice still on the gruff side with how little he’d spoken so far this morning and how soon after he’d woken up it was.

“Commander Erwin has requested to see you, Captain,” Eld’s voice answered from the hall, unable to hear the sigh of irritation Levi couldn’t stop from escaping as his grip tightened around Y/N.

Of fucking course it was going to be Erwin calling on him, the one person he couldn’t ignore, especially since the man was awaiting a report about the events of last night–and he needed to talk to anyway to see about moving forwards with Y/N’s goals. If it had been anyone else he would have told them to fuck off and wait until later.

He would much rather be here in this moment just a few moments longer–

“I can tell what you’d rather do, instead,” she teased him, voice low and breath soft and tantalizing against his throat, not at all helping him resist the urge to stay here with her a little longer as his heart seemed to beat a bit faster at the thought of staying in here and seeing if he could get more than a few gasps and shivers out of her.

“Shut up,” he hissed in warning, arm tensing slightly around her to hold her tighter, not wanting Eld to hear she was on the other side of his locked door so early in the morning. He could see a teasing smirk playing across her face out of the corner of his eyes, coaxing something in him to rise at the challenge he saw in it. As she parted her lips to say something else, likely something sassy, Levi, without really thinking about what he was doing besides giving her a quieter, nonverbal warning to hush, nipped at her jaw with his teeth in warning before she could speak again.

She gasped, the sound sharp and shocked, a flush starting to spread across her cheeks at her reaction.

Levi stilled, taken aback by himself.

“Did…did you just bite me?” she asked in shock, and she barely managed to keep her voice at a lower volume, though she was pushing it, and the twitch of her lips towards a grin, the amusement lighting her eyes and the timbre of her voice giving away she was seconds away from laughing, and likely not quietly, either. That blush on her cheeks remained astride the amusement, however.

“You just bit a vampire–what the hell possessed yo–”

Her voice was starting to rise in volume, and Levi shushed her, the sound sharp but quiet, and quickly muffled as he decided to double down, leaning in quickly to bite again, except a little bit harder and on her neck this time. His lips and teeth locked around a sensitive patch of skin he was fairly certain was close to where she normally bit him, and a shiver raced down her body that he felt, a strangled whimper escaping her and prompting him to quickly reach out and cover her mouth to muffle the sound lest it reached Eld in the hall.

She held still after that, her breath warm and slightly quicker than normal against his hand as Levi’s arm shifted around her to hold her restricted against him and kept her from moving, his chin brushing against her collar bone as he lifted his head to lock his gaze on the door across the room.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he called with a clipped tone.

As much as he wanted to stay here and explore that little discovery and the reaction it had invoked from her more…

Interruptions like this was exactly why he’d been hoping to do this last night when they wouldn’t have been interrupted. Once the day started he was just too busy for anything, or at least had too much to do with other people.

They held that position for several seconds after Eld’s footsteps could be heard retreating from Levi’s door, his hand still over her mouth, both of them still breathing a bit heavier than normal as they slowly came down from the needy high they’d both just been riding. As Y/N started to relax, her hands came back up to slowly and gently run through Levi’s hair once more, and figuring they weren’t going to be overheard, or at the very least that they had both calmed down enough they weren’t going to be that loud, Levi carefully lowered the hand that had been covering her mouth. The only sound between them for the first few moments was the long, slow sigh Levi let escape, eyes closed and allowing him a few precious seconds to relish the feel of her hands through his hair a few moments longer.

“Duty calls,” she eventually said, the first to break the silence as her fingers continued to thread through his hair, though her statement had him opening his eyes again to gaze up at her. “Can't keep the Commander waiting.”

If it had been anyone other than Erwin…

“Y/N…” he started to say softly, the start of a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. However, she leaned in to kiss one corner of his mouth, then the other, and then tilted his head just slightly so she could place one more lingering, soft kiss to his forehead.

“Later. We'll talk later when we have the time. Right now you're expected,” She told him quietly. The fact she hadn't moved off him yet despite her statements was the clear evidence he wasn't the only one that didn't want to break the moment. However, when she did pull back after a last few seconds to relish their moment, her fingers trailed along his jaw, prompting his head to tilt and turn to follow their trajectory before that touch fell away as well, leaving him wanting for more.

“I'll see you later,” she promised as she stepped back and started for the door. Despite his reluctance to let the moment end, she didn't even make it all the way across the room before Levi dutifully got up to retrieve his jacket and cravat to get back to fully redressed before he headed for the meeting with Erwin.

“You two are all over the place with this issue. And it's not reassuring that you can't seem to make up your minds on your stances for it.”

Erwin was still seated behind his desk, a place that he seemed to be stuck at more and more often with unusually high piles of reports and papers and plans even by his standards. The paperwork was momentarily being ignored, kept to its stacks and piles around but not currently in front of Erwin. He was frowning as he looked over at Levi, thumb idly playing with his index finger in small movements as he considered everything that he'd been told about the situation.

Levi shook his head, still leaning against the wall off to Erwin's right where he'd stayed the whole time he'd been telling the man about last night's developments. “We've argued over how to handle it, especially since the details coming out about the kid just seems to keep making a bigger mess of it all. But this recent complication put her on her back foot enough to give her pause and make her rethink it all a bit more. She's still stubborn as ever about helping him, but she's adapting, and willing to accept help. She even listened when I told her if he doesn't get around this, she'll have to cut ties.”

“And if it goes that way, do you think she actually will, or is that wishful thinking talking?”

Levi considered. He hoped if it went that way she would listen, that she’d recognize her inability to help and back off without much fuss. However, there was almost certainly going to be fuss. She was probably going to try to help him until she absolutely couldn’t any more.

“It might take her a bit longer than I’d like, but I think she will if she realizes it’s hit a point where she can’t help him, as much as she wants to.”

“And your plan to go force his hand into making a decision. Going in the day so you’re safe outside his cave is a pretty strong natural protection, and I know you’ll be armed just in case something causes the situation to turn ugly, and she’ll be there to restrain him, so I’m not so concerned about the danger of such a meeting that L/N did take issue with originally. What I am worried about are the people hunting him, and the growing risk of her, and now you, getting caught in the crossfire if he’s found. These walls can suddenly turn stifling and far too small when one’s on the run from someone, especially from the military,” Erwin said seriously, holding Levi’s gaze.

Levi could feel the tension that gathered in his shoulders at the way Erwin phrased that, able to sense the danger and even /further/ complication headed their way. “...You were trying to get some Scouts to volunteer to help in the search to have an in with what was happening. How did that go?”

Erwin hummed, but his steady gaze did not move from Levi. “Not well. You’re aware the Garrison are taking it personally, and there’s a squad or two from the Military Police assisting in making the search more efficient. My offer for volunteers, as easy as it is to excuse it as soldiers needing something to do to help manage the situation, was diverted to other resources–namely maintaining the peace where the Garrison and Military Police are now lacking during the search for the young vampire. They’re not letting anyone else in, but from what I’ve gleaned, they’re being very thorough with their search.”

It would have been strange for the Military Police to have gotten involved if it wasn’t for how high profile this mess had become. A criminal that dangerous that had killed two civilians and five Garrison troops? Of course the Military Police were going to get involved.

As for Emery…they were going to have to come up with a better solution for what to do about this situation besides making him disappear, especially if part of the point, on a practical level to convince Erwin to allow the attempt to help the kid, had been the potential of another vampire in the Scouts eventually. That wasn’t going to work if the kid’s face was everywhere and he’d become this legend of a murderer that disappeared within the walls, with the Garrison taking it personally and likely to remember and even recognize the kid’s face in the future. Not to mention, since there were only so many places to hide within the walls, it was very possible that eventually someone was going to stumble across his hiding place–and they didn’t need any more dead bodies. There were already too many as the situation stood right now.

Forty years ago, Y/N had to shake the Garrison off her tail as well, and it had been an effective method, but drastic. He wouldn’t bring it up here, now, with Erwin–he would talk to Y/N first, see what ideas she had that could help settle this issue before it spiraled any further out of control.

As if it hadn’t already–as if they didn’t already have their plates overflowing with all the shit they were busy shoveling right now between the fall of Maria and the resulting refugee and food shortage crisis bearing down on them, Emery–a situation that just kept multiplying in issues–and Y/N’s vampire drama between hunters and her sire, as Erwin had called the vampire that turned her.

“We’ll be mindful of that going forward. And I’ll add talking about what to do about that situation to the list of things we need to discuss and try to find a solution to while we’re all there.”

Erwin leaned forward, gaze still unwavering from Levi, even as Levi had been mulling over his thoughts. The scrutiny was something Levi was still trying to adjust to, well aware that Erwin was watching his actions and decisions more closely than he had in some time. All to make sure the budding relationship between himself and Y/N wasn’t clouding his judgment in any way. “Do you think that you'll be able to persuade him into being more...considerate of the situation he's created?”

That he was certain of. No matter how the situation went, Levi was going to draw the line in the sand and make sure the kid ended up on one side or the other, whether that meant they cut ties or they finally made some damn progress.

“If the kid can't make up his mind with the ultimatum he's going to get, then there's no helping him. Either he listens and accepts the help she's trying to give him, or there won't be any more arrangement,” Levi said flatly.

He was willing to let Y/N try this–as insane as it made him with the rising risks attached to it–and back her decision. He understood why she was doing it. But he wasn’t going to allow this kid to create a situation that threatened to destroy everything she’d managed to scrape together for herself recently, that she’d worked so hard to build.

He wasn’t going to allow a situation that would punish her for Emery’s decisions.

Erwin seemed to be satisfied with Levi’s answer, or at least the look in Levi’s eyes while he considered just how resolute he was about making sure Emery didn’t cause Y/N harm directly or indirectly, because he nodded, leaning back in his seat and finally looking away. “Good. Then I expect a resolution and progress when you two return from your trip in a few days to help with the refugees staying in the western part of Rose as part of our efforts to help ease the strain of managing this refugee crisis.”

Erwin frowned at the mention of the refugee crisis, and even though it had sounded like the end of the conversation, Levi could tell there was more coming, so he waited to hear what else Erwin had to say.

“Speaking of…just as a warning, Levi: The Council has started talking about their culling plan again. Much more actively this time.”

Levi felt his heart stop for a moment. If they were talking about it actively now, then…it was coming. Sooner rather than later, no doubt, given the look on Erwin’s face as he poured over more detailed maps of what Levi now saw were parts of the territory of Maria closest to Rose’s wall.

It was close enough Erwin was starting to make plans for how they were going to handle it when the dirty work inevitably got shunted onto them.

Levi didn’t have any words for that. Didn’t even want to think about it beyond what was necessary, not until it was time for him to have to think about it. But the warning that it was coming was still appreciated, since it gave him time to start mentally preparing himself.

He didn’t address it, however. He simply reverted back to the conversation they’d been having before the warning.

“I’ll update her when she’s back from visiting Emery. We’ll have finished before the end of the week.”

It seemed they wouldn’t be able to afford to be gone any longer than that.

Next Chapter--->

Everything Tags: @antistellxr

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @ayatosmlktea @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @imaginationmess @wubbawubwub04 @lollobos @pasteldays @itsmeaudriee @macaronnv @tokyo-banana @apuci-kis-szornye @momowantscats @yellowminb @ashikothedog @notgoodforlife @spnwinchestersd @xxdarkdarlingxx @joy-the-reader

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @lady-ragnvindr @subtlepjiminie @queenondeezmatatas @linxiajei17 @levisbebe @toni-jones @pinkberrymilktea @ascybous @emmaandemmel @wolfie3616 @aot-fanatic @jencyib @zombiukas @notgoodforlife @syviis @captainyanag1

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hxxsxxng · 1 year ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy

「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader

「synopsis」 : read the preview here

「word count」 : 15.3k

「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au

「taglist」 : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun - @pockettwinzz - @emi-en - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyun - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer

It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected .Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong.

I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”

“I wasn’t expecting this, but no I can’t think of anything.” “Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”