#Knocks on the window of the universes house like hello??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnaminyoons · 1 year

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STAR THEORY !!

!! jjk x m!reader

!! wc | 6.8k

!! tags | dilf!jk + dilf!reader (obv), non-idol au, lil age gap (jk’s 25, reader’s at least late 20s), reader lived in america for some time + reader is a chef (food comfort & domesticity i love u), reader’s children and dog are named, reader had a wife and also has a hip tattoo

[ event masterlist ]

dilf/dilf

pets are in love and so are they

“we are... incredibly close right now.”

the bedroom door bursts open.

"appa!"

it's too early for this.

"appa," she pants, little feet bouncing across the carpet until a weight begins to tug erratically at his blankets. "appa, get up, get up, there're new people!"

jungkook pulls a pillow over his head.

she puffs her cheeks out and launches herself onto his bed; she elbows him in the bony front of his leg. he groans in pain as she scrambles over his legs and grabs his pillow with both hands.

"get up, appa! i wanna go see!"

blearily, jungkook lifts his head, groping for the blinds past his bedside table. he leans uncomfortably far out into the cold of his room before he latches onto the chain and gives it a good pull.

the wooden blinds clatter up, dousing the room with pale morning light – the white bang that birthed the universe. she giggles and slides down from the bed, crawling up to the window and pressing her knuckles against the cold glass.

on the street below are a man and a little girl. another girl! she delights herself with fantasies of having a best friend – maybe they'd go play on the playground, and with their combined strength, they'll knock down the mean queen bee from the monkey bars.

they carry boxes into the neighbouring house, assisted by movers. a fridge, a mattress – they manoeuvre them through the gates leading around to the side of the house, entering through the glass sliding doors. she watches them, fascinated, as the visible kitchen begins to fill with cardboard boxes.

she cranes her neck, pressing her forehead against the glass until it stings her skin. nobody else comes through, and she knows who the hired help are because they wear bright orange shirts.

she squints at the man's left hand when he rests it against the column of the alfresco, speaking to the little girl. he's like her appa – he doesn't wear a marriage ring.

"what's so interesting?" he combs his fingers through his messy hair.

she glances over her shoulder with big brown eyes. "nobody's lived in that house for ages. d'you think they'll be nice?"

"i'm sure they are. c'mere, miri – you'll get a cold."

she skips over, lifting her arms dutifully. jungkook pulls a small pink jersey from his closet and tugs it over her head, helping her arms into the sleeves.

"where are your socks?" he asks with a groggy frown. he's always been slow to wake. "your toes will fall off."

"bam took them."

"he what?"

"bam took my socks," she says helpfully.

he sighs, rising to his feet. "okay. up we go, then."

he heaves her into his arms, settling her against his hip as he shuffles out of his bedroom and down the stairs. she's more than capable of walking on cold floors on her own – maybe it'd be a good lesson to teach about letting the dog take one's socks – but jungkook admits to himself that it's mostly for him. babies turn into children so quickly, and he finds he misses having her little warmth holding onto his shoulder.

bam meets them at the foot of the stairs, barking his good morning greeting. miri smiles and waves hello, and bam's tail wags faster as he follows them to the back door – he darts out with a bark, leaping into a run for freedom around the large yard. he shuts the door.

"right – here we are." he places her on the mat in the kitchen, in front of the sink. it protects her feet from the tiles. he feels somewhat more awake. "any requests for breakfast, miri? the fruits are still fresh – would you like some yoghurt and banana with your cereal?"

"with strawberries, too, please," she requests, watching him move towards the fruit bowl.

"how many strawberries?"

she opens her mouth. she frowns. carefully, she raises five fingers. "five."

"five? you must be hungry today," he comments, placing a banana on the chopping board next to the knife and leaning over to the fridge to fish out the tray of strawberries. he bends over. "on three. one."

he scoops her up under his arm, holding her like rolled carpet. she hums as she chooses her strawberries, placing them on the blue chopping board. she shoves a sixth in her mouth and giggles as jungkook rolls his eyes at her with a fond smile, setting her down. "go grab your cereal, okay? i'll be done in a minute."

"okay!" her cheek leaves jungkook's palm as she whisks away to a lower cupboard, taking her pick of the different cereals in easy-pour containers.

he pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows. he sets to work with the knife, chopping wedges out of the tops of the strawberries and slicing them in half. beside him, miri cautiously measures out her cereal on her own red child-sized table, tipping the container a few degrees at a time to control the flow.

a thump outside. he glances up. bam stops barking.

he sets down the knife and strides over to the door, dropping the wet handtowel on the edge of the bench. he leans out into the chilly air. "bam?"

no response. jungkook slips from his indoor slides to his outdoor ones and hurries outside, worry forming a knot in his stomach. "bam, come here!" he whistles, short and sharp.

he peeks behind the bushes, where a collection of toys have gathered as bam's treasure trove. no dog.

"shit," he mutters, eyes widening as he spots the open fence door by the side of the house. he hurries through it, grabbing the edge of the door. "bam!"

a bark by his feet. he startles ten feet into the air and a curse slips out of his mouth.

kneeling on the stone path and staring up at him is a little girl in a thick purple jacket. she looks about miri's age. bam had his head resting on her legs before they were so rudely interrupted.

he swallows another bad word and softens his voice. "hey. i don't think i've seen you around here before."

she stares up at him for a moment longer, rubbing bam's ears slowly. "me and papa came here today."

"oh! you must be our new neighbours." the moving truck is gone. he glances over the fence, before lowering himself to her level. "do you know where your papa is?"

"in there." she points at the house. she says nothing more, her eyes narrowed slightly mistrustfully.

"does he know you're here? i don't want him to be worried about you. come on – i'll bring you over."

she recoils from his offered hand, hugging bam's neck. the usually active pup seems unusually calm.

"i just want to walk you over, that's all. it's cold out here, and those pebbles can't be comfy."

she glances over him, then nods with as much dignity as she can muster and rises to her booted feet, brushing off her knees. bam stands as well, and jungkook gives him a pat.

he smiles at her, discreetly pulling his sleeves down over his sleeve tattoos. they might not make the best impression of his character. "so, you moved here today? what do you think of it?"

she shrugs, following him. "it's a lot colder. but papa says he got a good job here and can take care of me."

"really? do you know what his job is?"

"he's a chef! he makes really good food. do you like carrot cake? his carrot cake is the best. you should try some."

he smiles down at her as they approach the front door. "thank you for the offer. we'll see what happens."

he raps his knuckles against the front door firmly. he wonders if it sounds too aggressive, but there's nothing he can do about it, and there's an out-of-breath man standing in front of him. a very attractive out-of-breath man.

his eyes widen as he notices the girl beside him. "anya! what are you doing out there?"

she crosses her arms, defiant. "exploring."

"i – i told you to stay inside, didn't i? anya, neither of us knows our way around! you could've gotten lost if you hadn't—"

his eyes flicker up to jungkook's. he clears his throat and the girl shuffles over the threshold, grabbing onto his pant leg and burying her face in it. "hello. i am so sorry about my daughter – really, it feels like locks just fall apart around her. thank you so much for retrieving her. i left her in the hallway for two minutes to set up her bed, and then—"

"she escaped containment?"

the man cracks a frazzled smile. "yeah, suppose you could say that. ah—i'm ln yn. this is my daughter, anya. say hi, bub."

"hi."

"jeon jungkook," he introduces, feeling rather self-conscious about his pyjamas and socks-with-slides combination. he nods towards anya with a small smile. "how old is she?"

"five, this year." you smooth down her hair with a palm. she watches bam sniff around the perimeter of the fence. "she'll be starting school here soon and she's been really excited. she's a bit of an artist, you see, and the school's renowned for its arts program."

"oh! you mean—?" he gestures down the road. you nod. he brightens. "my kid goes there, too! she's the same age as yours, but she's more interested in trying every single extracurricular sport they offer than anything they're actually famous for. my genes at work, i guess."

you smile, leaning against the doorway. you nod at the dobermann by the succulents. "and that one's yours, too, i'm guessing?"

"oh – yeah! that's bam." he turns. "bam, come here!"

he perks up, trotting over.

"sit."

he sits.

"good boy." jungkook scratches behind his ears. "i'll keep him inside the yard, so you don't have to worry about holes in your garden or anything."

you chuckle. "thanks. so, what's to like around here? in particular, anything a five-year-old would enjoy?"

"the park's a two-minute walk that way." he points behind him. "it's not that big, but it has a swing and a slide and a rope cobweb thing. there's a fireman pole, too.” he smiles. “i know it's bad enough trying to move when you're alone, so having a kid with you must be pretty rough."

you share a laugh. the girl pouts into your leg.

he tucks his knuckles into his sleeves, trying not to show how fast his heart is beating. "i could watch her while you get settled today. i-if you want! i'd bring my daughter over and they could, uh, keep each other busy."

he knows you're wary. he can see it in your eyes and the way you pull her into your side.

good. he would be, too.

"that would be wonderful," you say eventually with a small smile. "but it's quite early – i'll be here when you're, well, ready."

he glances down at himself and bursts into embarrassed flames. "ah, r-right! yeah! sure, yeah, i'll be back in an hour. it was nice meeting you," he smiles down at her, "and you as well, anya."

"you, too," you reply, and your grin makes jungkook's heart race. he wills his blush down.

"goodbye," calls anya, watching him retreat from their door. "i like your puppy!"

bam trots at jungkook's side, tongue lolling out and collar clinking. jungkook lets him into the backyard again, this time through the side door, and latches the door shut firmly after himself. he's got no idea how it came loose the first time; it might've been the wind rattling the latch.

he shrugs to himself as he returns to his kitchen. if it happens again, he'll get a proper lock.

"appa!"

she crashes into his knees. he hums and smooths down her fringe. "hello. i'm sorry for disappearing on you like that – i got worried about bam, and then i met our neighbours."

she recoils, betrayal etched all over her face. "without me?"

"i wasn't expecting to."

"but you did! you could've come tell me!" she stomps her foot, huffing. "i hate you."

"miri..."

she ignores him, stalking off to grab her stool and dropping it firmly in front of the kitchen sink. she puts her bowl inside silently and stomps past him to play with bam outside, and jungkook doesn't bother trying to get her to change out of her pyjamas.

he sighs in his empty kitchen, thunking his head backwards on his fridge. he draws a hand down his face and his mind whirls with a thousand thoughts a second, but it only sticks firmly to one.

his neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour with an amazing laugh and lightning-strike smile.

i'm fucked.

—

after a few days, a black labrador appears out the front of your yard, chasing a yellow rope bone that it brings back to anya. jungkook's walking bam, having just dropped miri off at school, and doesn't expect to have his arm yanked off by an overexcited pet.

"bam! what's gotten into you?" he struggles against the leash, acutely aware of the other dog on the other end of bam's attention. "calm – calm down."

bam stills, panting and alert as the black lab stares back, half-poised to drop the bone at anya's feet.

jungkook loosens the leash cutting into his hand, and it's the wrong decision. bam tears off towards the other dog.

jungkook swears as the leash slices out of his grip. he stumbles after him, dread and panic slurring together for a split second – but confusion cuts through the mess as the two dogs pause, watching each other very closely.

bam barks. the labrador glances back at the house, as if to check for permission—

and drops the toy in front of bam.

it lays down, placing its head on its paws, and gnaws at the end of the bone. every so often, it glances up at bam, blinking in that sweet puppy way.

bam lays down beside it, his flamingo-coloured leash trailing over his back. both dogs' tails wag in comfortable excitement.

"hi, miri's papa."

jungkook tears his stare off the dogs. "hey, anya. where's your dad?"

"inside."

"okay. thanks." he glances at the dogs; the toy is now in bam's jaws. "uh, are you cool with watching over him? i'll be quick."

she nods, full of purpose and determination. as he reaches for the door handle, however, she raises her voice with innocent curiosity:

"do you love papa?"

the door handle shears a layer of skin off his knuckles. he chuckles uneasily, clutching it. "what? no."

she tilts her head, playing with her laces. she did them herself this morning. "really?"

"o-of course. why would i love him? more importantly, why do you think that?"

she purses her lips as if it's obvious. "you look like you love papa."

he runs his thumb over the flap of skin. no blood, but it stings.

"you sound like you love papa."

he tilts his head. "what are you talking about?"

"you make faces and your voice gets all weird when you talk to him." she turns back to the dogs, stretching her stocking-clad legs out from her seat on the driveway. she yawns until her jaw cracks. "you're just like all the other ladies who love papa. but i don't think they like me." she glances up. "you're nicer than them."

"other ladies?" he whispers to himself with a frown. slowly, he returns to her, bobbing down to sit next to her. she stares up at him with big eyes, expectant. "anya, if i may... what happened to your mother? it's okay if you don't want to answer."

she shrugs, kicking her feet. "i don't know. i live with papa now. i like it better this way – he doesn't get angry at me like she did, and he makes better food." she rubs her nose. "they fought a lot before we moved. papa pretends like they didn't, but i know they did. i could hear them."

"yeah?" jungkook says quietly. "was that back in america?"

she nods, playing with the blades of grass. she peels them in half, drops them in a pile on the concrete, then picks another one and does the same. "mhm. they decided we'd live with papa."

"huh." he pauses and tilts his head. "wait, 'we'?"

"anya! dad's done, are you hungry?"

a girl leans out the front door. she's older, wearing braids, and her familiar eyes snap to jungkook's with abrupt alarm. she slips into the shoes by the door and hurries over, grabbing anya by the shoulder and pulling her away. "who are you?"

anya whines, wriggling out of her grip. "this is mister jungkook! he loves papa."

he stands too quickly; the older girl steps back. "no. no, i don't, anya. i'm just a friend – i live right there."

"uh-huh," says the older girl, putting anya's hand in her own. "let's go, okay? dad's waiting."

"papa made carrot cake," anya insists. "you should come!"

"you can't just invite strangers—"

"but papa knows him—"

"doesn't matter, i don't know him—"

a new voice, familiar and gentle. "girls, everything alright?"

jungkook turns with a leap of his heart. you wear jeans and a grey v-neck sweater rolled up at the sleeves to reveal the stiff cuffs of a white dress shirt. the collar pokes out over the sweater.

you're dressed like any other man on the street, some form of business casual, but jungkook's heart acts as if he's seen you naked. he'd love to. god, he'd love to. would you like him?

focus!

"good morning," he greets, dusting off his black joggers. "how goes things?"

you glance over him and he covers his bare biceps self-consciously. your lips quirk up. "hey, jungkook. things are great. i see you've met ellie."

"ellie," he repeats. he gives her a small, sheepish smile and offers a hand. "hi. i'm sorry for worrying you. maybe we can make amends?"

she glances down at his hand. her eyes flicker to you, and after receiving a certain look, she sighs and begrudgingly takes his hand, giving it a firmer-than-necessary shake. "yeah, sure. whatever."

she pulls anya into the house with her and you give her another look – this one meaning we'll talk later – before heading out to the driveway to speak with jungkook.

"i'm sorry about her," you huff. "twelve-year-olds..."

"don't worry about it. her heart's in the right place," jungkook hums, glancing up at you with a soft smile. his hands have taken much of his attention. "so, two?"

"yeah. she just arrived last night – i promise she isn't usually so grumpy." you jerk your head towards the house with a grin, hands in your pockets. "i heard them arguing about you. if you think my decision holds more weight than theirs, you're welcome to come in. i made carrot cake – my own personal recipe, tried-and-tested with the kids." you wink. "you know it's good when children willingly eat vegetables. any allergies?"

"i'd love to," he replies, his cheeks warmer than usual. "and no, i don't."

your smile widens, blindingly bright. you turn to the dogs and pat your thigh, reaching out for the labrador that trots over with an excited bounce. "you can bring bam in, too. they seem to get along – no reason to break them apart, right?"

"are you sure? bam's pretty easily excited, and he's a lot bigger than he thinks he is."

"hey." you take his hands, stopping him from picking obsessively at the cuticles. it's a bad habit he can't seem to shake. "we've had callus since he was ten weeks old. i know exactly what you're talking about, and my offer still stands."

"callus?" he asks, his brain too full of the thought of your warmth to do much else.

you roll your eyes fondly. "i hate the name, but ellie chose it and trained him to it, so it's stuck ever since. so – you coming in, or are you just gonna hold my hands for the next hour?"

"what?" he says. oh, fuck, you've loosened your grip but he hasn't. he's holding your hands. he's still holding them. he drops them. "a-ah, i'll come in!"

you laugh, and jungkook's heart squeezes tight in a red fist as he follows you to the front door. "alright, jungkook. don't tell the girls, but i'll give you a bigger piece of cake, okay? it'll be our secret."

"okay," jungkook breathes, and feels like a teenager all over again.

however, he might have forgotten to factor in the feelings of a certain five-year-old girl.

"you saw them again!"

"i know, i'm sorry," jungkook pleads, "but you were at school! hey, look, i even saved you some of yn's cake, alright? it's really good. he invited us – both of us – over to his place tomorrow. you can meet him and his daughters, and have a lunch better than i could ever make. how about it?"

miri pouts, kicking her feet on the couch. her schoolbag sits by the end of the sofa. "fine."

"oh, good," he sighs, relieved.

"but," she raises a finger, "you can't fall in love with him."

he whips around faster than light. "you, too? why am i not allowed to?"

"you're not allowed to be his wife."

"i'm a man, miri. it doesn't work like that."

"yes, it does."

"it doesn't."

"it does," she insists, "ellie said—!"

she slaps a hand over her mouth and falls backwards on the sofa.

jungkook pauses, his hands hovering over a cucumber on the chopping board. very carefully, he continues slicing long ovals out of it. he asks calmly, "have you met each other before?"

"no." she sits up, long black hair falling over her shoulders. "only to play with the dogs..."

"then you shouldn't be so upset that i did the same thing, right? does yn know you played with his daughters?"

miri, with as much gravitas as a five-year-old can muster, replies: "no."

he shakes his head with a huff of laughter, using the back of the knife to scrape the cucumber in a container. "alright. is that where you found this rumour? did they tell you?"

"appa, it's not a rumour if it's true," she argues, rising to her feet on the sofa. she leans forward against the backrest. "i've seen it with my own eyes! you talk about him like – like – not a friend! i never saw you talk about anybody else that way."

"uh-huh. and what do you know about being in love, miri? what does ellie know? she's twelve, and you've only just learnt how to tie your hair in a ponytail. very messily. no standing on the couch."

she falls back behind the edge of the backrest with a huff, vanishing from jungkook's sight. "you'd be a bad wife."

he carves the store-bought roast chicken, sawing through the thighs and shaving smaller slices off the body. he digs through the breast to stab at the herbed stuffing. a lock of hair falls loose from his low ponytail and he tosses his head to get it out of his eyes. "do i dare ask why?"

he's terribly competitive – whether it's a good or bad trait, he doesn't know. while he may never be a wife, being called bad at something – by his own blood, no less! – sets fire to something he tried to bury back in university.

"because you're mean and not funny and never wake up before twelve o'clock."

he gapes, putting down his serrated knife to scoff at the couch. "i am funny, thank you very much. why should you never eat a clock?"

"um, because it's made of metal and plastic?" miri answers.

"it's time-consuming," he snickers.

her head pops up over the backrest, pinched into a frown. "that isn't funny, appa."

"you don't appreciate my effort, miri. i'm hurt."

"you know who would, though?" her gaze intensifies. she points through the walls to the house to their left with the neat lawn. "he would. which makes it even worse, because then you'll love each other, and then i'll have to hear two bad jokes instead of one. it'll be in – in – insuff'rable. i learnt that word today, did you know?"

"it's 'insufferable', miri."

"you proved it! you're mean. anyway, ellie said she'd hate it if you and her appa got together."

out of protectiveness? or something learnt and cruel?

miri disappears behind the sofa again only to reappear beside it, moving towards the kitchen and leaning against jungkook's left leg.

"appa, it smells really good."

jungkook grabs a set of chopsticks and hooks out a chunk of meat. he crouches and offers the meat, holding a hand beneath her small chin to catch anything that doesn't make it to home base. nothing falls, and he draws away.

"here," jungkook murmurs. "can you set the table, please?"

"mhm."

she skips off with the cutlery in hand. jungkook carries the large bowl with the carcass and places it in the middle of the dining table, petting miri's hair on the way back to the kitchen.

he's always worried about how others perceive him. always. he's twenty-five with a school-aged kid and no mother in sight, and he makes fucking video games for a living – he's not even something respectable, like a doctor. at the very least, he could've been a nine-to-fiver, a suit amongst identical suits, and with that, his image would be inoffensive.

but video games? being a concept artist, an animator? for even a big triple-a kind of company, it's not a great reputation to kick off with: he draws colourful lines and makes things move. even though he earns a salary comfortable enough to keep his little family afloat, his name is one of hundreds as an optional post-credits roll, and it's not on the first page.

still, the way you beamed at his mumbled description of his job... it made things a little lighter to bear.

"come eat up, bub," he says. "maybe you'll entertain the idea of my future marriage once you realise how boring my dinners are."

—

pacific rim rumbles through the sound system. rather surprisingly, neither of the five-year-olds mind its big, scary battles. jungkook chalks up miri's fascination with the robots and monsters with a general nonchalance towards violence and gore. she watched train to busan when she was three – which was not jungkook's fault; she wasn't supposed to be awake and sitting spookily in the darkness on the stairs – and shrugged off most of the blood and guts as simply fake.

he should have been paying more attention to his surroundings than his laptop screen and the accident he'd sired in motionbuilder, he realises now, but a good consequence is that miri avoids frozen and its brethren like the plague. he doesn't think he'll be able to keep his sanity if he hears any movie three times consecutively.

ellie plays animal crossing on the switch, cross-legged between you and jungkook with her head against your shoulder. a leopard-print blanket wraps around her shoulders and pools in her lap. every time something explodes or crashes, she glances up, fixated for a moment, before returning to her village.

miri and anya are fast asleep on jungkook's thigh. another blanket, this one blue with thin pink stripes, covers them both, and jungkook's arm lays gently across their shoulders. he'd turned the volume right down for them and the two dogs cuddling in the labrador's bed, though his 5.1.4 speaker setup retains enough boom in the subwoofer to keep him immersed.

eventually, ellie's body droops, and the switch falls from her hands into her lap as her hair flops across her face. three quarters into the movie, you gently take her into your arms and tuck her into bed, and jungkook watches over the remaining two, tucking a silky lock of hair behind miri's ear. his leg is going numb and the tingling is growing uncomfortable, but he'll be damned if he wakes them.

you return. there's a pop-art picture of a sea dragon made of sushi on your shirt, and jungkook smiles at the sight. you slip your arms beneath anya's body and she shivers as the blanket slips off, curling deeper into your chest.

"today's been tiring for them all," you murmur as jungkook scoops miri up in the blanket. "they'll be knocked clear out until tomorrow."

the two will share a bed for the night, and they'd been gleefully planning their sleepover itinerary the entire day, whispering to each other about staying up past their bedtimes to chat about everything. you press a kiss to anya's forehead, brushing her hair off her cheek, and jungkook tucks miri's wrapped-up body beneath the duvet.

you shut the door with a quiet click. it feels final, as if you've signed a legal form, and when your gaze flickers over to jungkook, you find him already staring back with an unreadable expression, a mess of emotions warring over his doe-like features. it smooths over a split second after your eyes meet.

you tilt your head towards the kitchen with a smile. "still awake? i can break out some bourbon. i also have some red wine, if that's more your style."

"i'll take the wine, if it's not too much trouble," he replies softly. "i've already had a drink tonight and i have work in the morning."

"of course." with the girls asleep, you're free to do as you wish. you take his hand in your own, and his breath hitches. your thumb brushes over his jawline. "i'll steal a glass as well."

jungkook likes to pretend he has everything under control. his heart, however, is under a different jurisdiction, and you prod it with your smile and warm touch until it quivers, naked and bare.

then, you are gone. his pulse pounds hotly in his ears as he shuffles after you, almost afraid of what he might spill under the wine.

he'll only have a glass, he promises himself. nothing will come of it.

"i wanted to tell you this before, but we had company. your pyjamas are cute," you tell him as you set down his glass, holding the newly-opened wine bottle in the other hand. you gesture to his inked arms. "and those are gorgeous."

"thank you," he murmurs, taking the stem between his fingers. he rubs his thumb over the swell of the glass and tucks his feet behind the barstool's legs. "you ever looking to get something done?"

a smile tugs at your lips. "i already have."

his eyes widen behind the glass. he sets it down, trying to keep his prying gaze discreet. "really? what of?"

"it's here."

to his scandalised pleasure, you grab your shirt and the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them apart to reveal a curved tattoo along your hipbone. his starved gaze roams the exposed skin, the sliver of stomach and the dangerously-low slant of your pants.

he burns with painful desire. it stings at the back of his eyes, and his back teeth grind down on nothing as he swallows harshly, lifting a hand casually to his face to hide it.

"'s pretty," he rasps, clearing his throat. his knuckles whiten around the wine glass. "when did you get it?"

"as soon as i was old enough. i was always a romantic, you see," you joke, letting go of your clothes. they fall back into place and he mourns the loss. at least he has a new fantasy to bookmark. "i thought it was cute, and she liked it, so i kept it."

she.

jungkook's heart tumbles to the pit of his stomach at the reminder of what he is – and what he isn't. he chugs the wine and chases the buzz of intoxication.

"you don't... really talk about before," he says quietly. "i-i mean, it's personal, why would you? we met last month—"

"it's been the best month of the last few years," you interrupt, filling his glass again. you reach up to bring down one for yourself and he leans forward, his mouth dry as he catches a slit of skin as your shirt rides up.

it's almost funny how desperate he is.

"y-yeah?"

"yeah." you set the glass on the bench, opposite jungkook. you reach for his hand and he watches with bated breath as you link your fingers lazily with his. "moving has always been a hard experience, especially with those two troublemakers to keep an eye on, and you've been amazing to me – to us – all this time. jungkook, you made it easy to fall into a routine i enjoy."

"oh." he grips your fingers. "so... her, huh? are the kids hers?"

"yep."

"were you ever married?"

"for a while."

it pops out before he can stop it. "what happened?"

"okay..." you offer him a tight smile, unlinking your fingers to fill your glass higher than it's supposed to be.

last page, the end. that part of you will not be touched again.

"i'm sorry, yn-ssi—"

"'hyung'," you interrupt. "you can call me 'hyung', jungkook. our dogs are in love – i'd like to think we're closer than those formalities."

he nods, a little uncertain. it shows in his eyes, flitting about your kitchen as if searching for the nearest door. "if you think so, hyung."

you smile, and this one is looser, easy to enjoy. "better. what about you – would you ever think of finding someone?"

he laughs breathily, briefly pressing the back of his thumb to his lower lip. "ah, well. you know how it is. i've got miri to worry about."

"and a girlfriend wouldn't adore her, too? that spells trouble."

his mouth twitches in some semblance of a smile, small and wry. "i hear that's your biggest problem. anya mentioned that you're pretty popular, but that she's a deterrent."

you sigh, rounding the bench and taking a seat near him at the dining table. you rest an arm over the back of the chair. "what can you do, right? there's nothing to be done except wait and hope that the perfect one will come along sooner or later. other friends always tell me that i don't need anyone, that i'm doing really well."

you rub the back of your neck, and jungkook follows the tendons leading down past your collar. you smile up at him, warmer than usual. "but i've always been selfish."

"it wouldn't only be a girlfriend," jungkook says suddenly. he grabs the bottle of wine and tops up his glass far more than a single standard drink. "i'm, uh, you know... kind of into everyone. but i'm loyal. if there's one thing that i am, that's it."

"would you like to go on record with that for the company's diversity initiative?"

he turns, and you grin a little dorkily back at him, a wine-touched buzz in your veins. he rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh, raising his glass. "sure, if it gets me someone nice to talk to. fuck, i can't remember the last time i just... went to a bar and didn't give a shit. let loose." he sighs. "i was terrible in university – god, it physically pains me. i've known miri since she was a baby, but sometimes i wonder if she was the only one, you know?"

you reach out and push his thigh with a chuckle. "hey, no frowning; it's bad for your skin. it's not good to dwell on possibles, jungkook. you have miri. you have me. those are certainties. agonising over what might be does nothing for anyone."

as he turns on the stool, his tongue runs over his lower lip. he grips the seat between his thighs, one knee bouncing. "but what if—"

"jungkook, the more you stress over it, the less you're present with miri. she's a sweet girl – please don't neglect her for uncertainties."

your hands cup his, reassuring and warm, as you pull your chair in. his head bobs in a small, slow nod.

"i guess you're right," he mumbles. "hey, hyung... were you always a chef?"

you laugh. "no. i had ellie when i was pretty young and i jumped from job to job for some time. i made decks for a while – carpentry. did other contract jobs. i only went to culinary school a few years ago when i had the funds for it."

"how did you know?" he asks softly. "how did you know it was all gonna be okay?"

you shrug. "i didn't. i just took it one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time, and eventually, i got here." you rest your chin over his knuckles and hum, gazing up at him. "don't think. just do. you'll be alright, jungkook. my door is never closed to you, even if you just want to drink all my wine and eat all my cereal."

he laughs, barely more than a soft giggle. "thanks, hyung. that... actually made me feel better, weirdly enough."

"good. i don't like seeing you upset." you squeeze his hands. "you're looking rather pink. you should slow down with the wine."

he glances at his empty glass and the nearly-empty bottle. he can't remember drinking so much. his cheeks are hot. "yeah. yeah, i probably should." he begins to rise. "sorry for—"

your arms wrap firmly around his waist as he stumbles. he blinks harshly, his horizons tilting dangerously.

"did you spike that?" he jokes half-heartedly. "shit, i'm regressing to a lightweight..."

"you drank three-quarters of the bottle in the time it takes me to have a shower. that's called being an idiot, not a lightweight."

your palm cups his cheek. it's cool and soothing against jungkook's burning skin, and it burns hotter when he realises he can feel your heartbeat through his own ribs. his traitorous hands are already placed on your sides.

"we are... incredibly close right now," he whispers.

your eyes flicker down to his lips, pink and parted. "i don’t mind."

you take the point of his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up from his flushed downcast gaze. his hands hover over your ribs, his own cracking with the force of his heart, and he slides them over your chest to grasp the back of your neck, his thumbs stroking the slope of your jawline.

"jungkook," you murmur against his warm lips, "we should do this tomorrow. when your mind's clearer."

"tomorrow i might not do anything. i'm a coward, hyung. please... just once? so i can remember what it's like?"

he leans in again, and you don't stop him. his lips mould with yours, the sweet, dark flavour zinged with a slight bitterness. he hums softly as your arms tighten around his slender waist.

when you finally part, you're both gasping for air, and jungkook offers a giddy smile.

"man," he pants, "that's a lot more fun than i remember."

"i think you just have to find the right person to do it with." you laugh quietly and he drops his head onto your shoulder, hiding his blush.

"would you be mine?" he asks, allowing a fleck of hope to plague his voice. "would you be my boyfriend, yn-hyung?"

you brush a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "ask me again tomorrow. i want to be sure you'll remember what you've done – it'd be pretty awkward if you forgot and i came up and kissed you."

he huffs. "i'm not that drunk – look, i'm a little tipsy. maybe a bit more than tipsy. whatever the case, i'm not gonna forget this." he runs his tongue over his lower lip slowly, as if to savour something. "i'll ask again in the morning – with one condition."

you tilt your head, eyes gentle. "and what might that be?"

"a goodnight kiss. doesn't have to be on the lips, but it would be nice—"

you shut him up. he melts into it, tilting his head to deepen it, and he presses his whole body into yours, as if he can open up your skin and step inside, as close as close allows.

here is someone who understands him – here is his heart, here are his lungs, here is the flesh and bone that forms love. he loves love, and the carrot cake that love cuts for him, and the peaceful sleeping puppies resting their heads on each others' backs in love's living room.

he kisses you again, and his touch is the blinding supernova of a promise.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x male reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #bts x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #i want so badly to watch tlou if u cant tell #bonus points if you can tell who the 5yos are named after #1k event

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sinner-as-saint · 1 year

Text

we can make it till the end

Bucky x Reader au

Run-through: You’ve known Bucky and his family for years. Bucky’s parents were close friends of your fiancé and soon, they became your really good friends too. But then in one terrible accident Bucky lost both of his parents and you lost your fiancé. Ever since, you and Bucky became each other’s rock for the years which followed. You were there for him like family. But then, Bucky’s behaviour changes and you realise that he wants something you’re not so certain you can or should give him: your heart.

Themes: smut, age gap, older!reader (late thirties) x younger!bucky (early twenties), ANGST, mention of loss and death, fluff, hurt/comfort, taboo romance, jealous/possessive!bucky, mention of suicidal thoughts (brief), very mild breeding kink,

a/n: this is very long

The alarm system notified you that a car had just entered the property. And you smiled so bright at the sound that your face hurt.

Bucky was here. And he was early!

You were currently at the lake house that your late fiancé had bought in collaboration with his two best friends - Bucky’s parents - when they were young; a place where they’d come to reset, a place they came to when they didn’t want to deal with anyone else. This was their favourite place in the world, and now it was yours too. And you were sure it was Bucky’s as well.

After all, there were so many memories attached to this place. Happy and sad. All those weeks in summer spent here, and winter, and autumn, and spring. So many Christmas days and New Years. You were all here where Bucky received his acceptance email from uni. You were all here to celebrate whenever any of you had a successful business venture. You never really did much; just swam in the lake and enjoyed each other’s company but just quality time was all you needed.

And sadly, you and Bucky were right here when you received the phone call that your fiancé and Bucky’s parents had been in an accident while they were coming back from the store. You drove yourself and Bucky to the hospital from here to see whether or not your loved ones would make it. They didn’t. Bucky and you had this lake house to come back to after the burial of the three.

You and Bucky made sure to always come to the lake house at least a few times in a year. A couple weekends here and there just to keep the memories of this place alive. And to relive the memories of when this house was filled with people now gone.

It was a lovely property in the heart of pine woods and mountains, with the lake in the backyard. Lush and green. Especially during this time of the year when it was chilly and foggy, but not too much. The house itself reminded you of contemporary and Victorian architecture mixed together.

It was elegant and airy, and almost each room in the house had floor-to-ceiling windows which was perfect to let the outside in, given the breathtaking surroundings. The lake and the woods kept the air crisp and cool at all times.

But the best part of the house was how warm and home-y it was inside.

You heard a knock on the door and your smile grew a little more. You rushed to the huge front door and opened it to find Bucky on the other side, looking every bit the final year university student he was. Hair styled in a messy ‘bed hair’ way, wrinkled t-shirt, faded and worn jeans, comfy hoodie, his backpack on one shoulder and his travel bag in one hand.

“Hello gorgeous,” He greeted you in the boyish, flirty way he always did.

“Bucky!” You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a warm hug. He dropped his bags immediately and hugged you back; needing the hug as much as you did. “It’s so good to see you.”

You sighed in relief each time you met Bucky since the day you both suffered significant losses. After the funerals and everything, Bucky moved to attend uni and you always worried that you’d never meet the boy you knew ever again. But then, that same year, some months later when you contacted him and suggested that you celebrate Christmas together at the lake house like you always used to do, you were surprised when he agreed.

You were even more surprised when he showed up looking healthy and well. He was just a young boy when he left for uni, but he showed up on Christmas day looking nothing like the lanky kid he used to be.

And even now, years later each time he shows up you’re reminded that he’s growing into a capable young man. Now he’s so tall and strong that his tight hugs hurt a little bit with all those muscles.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He mumbled into your hair as he tightened his arms around you purposely.

You laughed. “Oh, let me breathe.” You joked as you pulled away from the hug to get a good look at him. You cupped his face in your hands and smiled at him, “How are you, young man? You look great!” You said as you let him step inside. “You know, I still look forward to the day you’ll bring a partner along with you.”

Bucky chuckled, walking into the house with his arm casually thrown over your shoulder. “Nah, this is our special place. It’s ours, just you and I.” He said. And turns to look at you with a soft smile once he drops his bags on a couch in the living room.

You hold back your tears just at the sight of him. He doesn’t resemble any of his parents, yet he reminds you of some of the best friends you’ve ever had. He reminds you of all those years back when coming here felt like coming home.

“It’s so good to be here, isn’t it?” You asked. It’s something you always say whenever you come here ever since the accident. And each time, even years later, Bucky agrees.

He looked around the house as he said, “Yeah.” Then he looked at you with that naturally pouty, boyish face and said, “This feels like home.”

You couldn’t help but walk up to him and give him another hug. He welcomed it, wrapping his arms around you.

“I miss them. I miss them so much.” You said, unable to help the way your eyes finally water a little bit. Over the years, you’ve cried so much that it feels like your body can’t quite produce a lot of tears anymore.

Bucky kept his arms around you, firm and strong. “I miss them too.” He added, “But look, you’ve still got each other. We still have this place, we’ll always have this place. We’ll be okay.”

That made you smile, so you pulled away to look at him. His handsome face, his sharp jawline, his slightly messy hair. He no longer looks like the boy you used to know. He's stronger, in so many ways. He’s different. But his blue eyes still remind you of that young boy who lost his parents way too early in life.

“When did you get so wise?” You teased him. “And what have you been eating? Hugging you hurts now.” You pulled away from the hug and grabbed his bag from the couch, he grabbed his backpack and followed you as you led him upstairs to his room.

“Working out helps with the stress. Plus I get super strong.” He said as the two of you took the stairs. “I’m very handy now, you see? I can open any jars, I can do any heavy lifting and all that.” He boasted.

“Yeah, yeah, kiddo. I get it, the muscles get everyone going. I get it.” You teased him again and noticed his cocky smile is hiding something. But you dropped it for now.

You led him to his room and dropped his bag on the bed and looked around. You and Bucky have made very few changes to the lake house over the years following the deaths which changed your lives. Other than maintenance stuff, everything is just as it was. And you both like it this way. But that also means Bucky’s room is still the same one he’s had since he was a young boy.

“God, this is embarrassing.” He commented, looking around.

You laughed at his ridiculous posters. “I like it, I think it adds character.”

He gave you a playful glare which made you laugh even harder. “Oh please.” He took a look around and said, “I’ll get this sorted before I leave this time.”

“Sure,” You nodded, “Whatever you want.” Then you turned to leave. “Come downstairs when you’ve freshened up, I’m making tea. I also made your favourite cookies this morning.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up, “You are an absolute angel, you know that? I haven’t had real food in a long time. I’m gonna eat my weight in those cookies.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you left the room. Some things still don’t change.

–

You were downstairs on your own for about half an hour. Sure, you’d taken time off work to come here but you still had to answer countless emails. Handling two major businesses was no joke. After Bucky’s parents passed, you took over their businesses in his place just until he’s done with uni and can replace his parents. You also had to manage your own so it was double the amount of work. More meetings, more risks, more stress, more emails…

“You work too hard.”

You heard his voice from behind you and before you could turn around, you felt Bucky’s hands on your shoulders, massaging the knots away at the back of your neck. You’d been staring at your screen for the past thirty minutes, so the impromptu massage was very much welcomed.

“Oh,” You groaned, “That feels great, thank you.”

“I should help out with work.” He said, massaging a bit further down, finding all the knots and easing them.

“No,” You say softly. “You focus on uni, you’ll be done within a year anyway. Then you can take over and handle what’s always been yours. I can manage until then, don’t you worry.” His concern touched your heart.

“But it’s too much for you.” He argued, sounding like he’s sulking as he massaged down your shoulder blades with his strong, calloused hands. “You don’t even have to do all this for me.”

“Bucky,” You smiled softly, “You and your parents would’ve done it for me if it was the other way around. I know that with certainty. I’m not doing this out of obligation, I’m doing it because I loved your mom and dad. I still do. I take care of all this for you because I want to, because I care.”

He caught the sadness in your voice and his hands stopped for a brief moment before he continued working on your tense shoulders.

“I know.” He said, and you caught something in his tone which you couldn’t quite decipher but you let it go. For now.

“Oh come on, stop sulking. I made us tea.” You got up from the chair and made your way to the cupboards in the open kitchen without turning around to look at Bucky. But then you felt him there standing behind you as you struggled to get the mugs from the top shelf. “Uh, a little help here, muscle man?”

Bucky chuckles, “I’ll get them for you. Step aside.”

You did and for a moment you were baffled at the sight of Bucky. In nothing but his tight, black underwear which clung to his body like a second skin. Your brain stopped working for a few seconds, it could do nothing but register the sight of Bucky - smooth, tan skin and muscles. His hair and back still a little damp from his shower. Then you noticed the few tattoos he must’ve gotten recently; especially on his hands and sides.

“Here,” He said, handing you the two largest mugs he could find up there. His voice brought you back to the present.

You accepted the mugs, finally meeting his stare. He looked cocky, smirking as he held your stare as if to see who’d look away first. Of course, you do. Then you tried to lighten up the mood and dissipate the weird, awkward tension that somehow crawled its way into the room.

“You’re not in your dorm anymore. Did you forget to put clothes on, young man?” You asked him, making sure to keep your voice steady. Not that it bothered you much but seeing him nearly naked out of nowhere came as a surprise.

“It’s warm inside,” He came over to sit at the breakfast counter, “Besides, I rarely ever wear clothes when I’m in here, remember? Because I never know when I wanna go for a swim.”

You smiled, sliding his mug over to him and his plate of cookies which is sure to disappear in less than a few minutes. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. I also remember how you drench the entire house in lake water after you’re done swimming but refuse to get dry before you come in.”

He frowned playfully, then spoke with a mouthful of cookies, “I stopped doing that years ago. I’m not a kid anymore.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head again. “Sure, we’ll see.”

“Fine.”

And just like that, the conversation flowed. The weird tension and awkwardness from earlier forgotten. You talked about uni, about his classes and friends. You talked about the past, about his parents and your fiancé. You talked about the future and how he’s excited but nervous to take over his parents’ businesses.

“You’ll be amazing. People are gonna love you and you’re gonna do a great job.” You reassured him.

He smiled, reaching across to hold your hand in his. “And you’ll be there with me, right? Every step of the way?”

Your heart melted at the way he spoke; like a nervous kid. “Of course, Buck. I’ll always be there for you.”

You began talking about some of the people who can’t wait to meet him; mainly business partners but also some of the staff who were really close with his parents. And you didn’t realise it at first, but the whole time you’d been talking, Bucky kept holding your hand, his thumb slowly caressing your skin.

When you did realise, you made some excuse and nonchalantly pulled your hand away. “Now, how about I get started on dinner and then we watch a movie?”

Bucky nodded, “Yes, please I need real food. Campus food is awful.” He groaned.

“What do you want for dinner? I can make us pasta.”

His face brightened up at the sound of that. “Yes. With a shit ton of good fucking cheese with that, please.”

You frowned, then laughed at the cuss words, “Bucky!”

He got up and stretched, those muscles moving along his body, “What? My parents aren’t here now, I can cuss.”

He laughed and ran away before you could chuck the tea towel at him. Silly him and his twisted sense of humour.

–

The kitchen was designed like a prism of glass so you could see outside really, really well. Which also meant that you could keep an eye on Bucky as he swam in the cold lake in the cloudy afternoon. He never had issues being on his own given he had no siblings and even now, he was very comfortable with the silence and lack of company while he was out in the lake.

He was such a strong boy. Sure, his heart was broken after he lost his parents but he never stopped being resilient.

That thought train brought you to the two weird, awkward instances that happened earlier. Of course, you never minded Bucky walking around in his swimming trunks or him holding your hand when he was younger.

Then the reality settled in. He’s all grown up now. Not just your best friends’ son, but a proper young man now. Should you start putting up gentle boundaries? Then again, you don’t want to push him away in any way because you’re closer to him than the rest of his distant family members.

Your mind was preoccupied with this as you cooked. So much so that you didn’t notice him get out of the lake and make his way upstairs. You only realised he was inside the house when he stepped into the kitchen, showered and dressed this time.

“Ah, you remembered to put clothes on this time.” You joked, looking at him dressed in his white shirt and dark pants.

Bucky chuckled as he walked over and leaned against the counter, watching you as you cleaned up and put the pans in the dishwasher. You were normally used to this, back then, Bucky would spend hours with you in this kitchen; just watching you as you cooked or baked him his favourites.

But tonight, his stare is different. But you shake it off, calling yourself insane for overthinking this. Then out of nowhere Bucky said, “Let’s eat in the conservatory. Should we open a bottle of wine? I’ll go check the wine cellar, we usually have good stuff down there.”

By the time you could respond, he was already gone. It was a little odd to imagine you and Bucky having dinner and wine for some reason. Maybe because you’d thought of him as a young boy this whole time, and now that he’s acting like a grown up, it’s taking you some getting used to.

He’s almost twenty-five after all. You smiled faintly to yourself, shaking your head at the thought. Wine… conservatory… When did he get so grown up to care about these things?

—

The wine he chose was amazing, it paired with the pasta you made extremely well. Bucky couldn’t stop moaning as he ate, and it made you feel a little sad when you thought about what crap he must be eating at uni.

“I wish I could bring you back to uni with me.” He spoke, washing down his food with a long sip of wine.

You laughed, “For what? So I’d cook for you. Bit sexist, don’t you think?”

He laughed as well, “No, not just the food. It’d be great to have you there, you know? Like a real friend.”

You almost frowned at the word choice: friend. You always thought you’d end up being a parental figure for him as he grows up and takes over the family business. Sure, your bond was friendly and comfortable. But a friend sounded like… more. Or maybe you were just overthinking it.

You smiled at him after finishing your wine in one go. “You don’t have much longer to go, Buck. You’ll graduate and be out of there in no time.”

He smiled at that, “I know. Then I’ll move to the city like you. Actually, I may end up being your neighbour.”

You chuckled, “So you can just come over and eat my food anytime you want?”

Bucky’s eyes were down on his plate and at the sound of that question, he slowly looked up at you with an unreadable look on his face. Then he said, “Yeah, amongst other things.”

You didn’t quite catch that so you scoffed and said, “What?”

But Bucky was already standing up. “Let’s dance.”

You smiled up at him. “Now?”

He tapped a few times on his phone and music started playing, filling the conservatory with gentle notes, “Come on, dance with me.” He didn’t wait for a reply, he simply grabbed your hand and pulled you up.

You chuckled and went along. Eyes widening when you realised it was one of your favourite songs (a/n: it’s the slowed down version of ‘yes to heaven’ by lana del rey btw). So you danced with Bucky, the two of you slow dancing in the conservatory like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“You remember.” You said quietly.

“Of course, you mentioned you loved this song once. A few years ago.” He replied.

What Bucky didn’t know was that this song held a special place in your heart. You’d never told anyone this but years ago, back when you were engaged, you always wanted this to be the song you danced to with your partner at your wedding. No one knew, except for your fiancé and well, that secret went with him. As did the dream of a first dance.

Listening to it now, it made your eyes water again. Your heart feeling heavy all of a sudden. It never got easier, remembering. Bucky’s shoulder was right there so you laid your head on it, crying silently.

Bucky noticed the moment the first tear fell from your eyes. And he didn’t say anything.

He kept his arms around you, swaying gently to the music and the melancholic voice for who knows how long. The song played on a loop for a couple of times. Your tears fell and dried up. Your heart was a little lighter, but the memories still hurt.

“I’m right here.” He said, his voice firm and steady. “You know I’ll always be right here.”

You nodded. Then you looked up at him with slightly watery eyes. “I know. I’m here too.” You reassured him.

This time, Bucky refused to look away again. And neither could you. You were hurting and someone familiar was nearby so you clung to the comfort. His stare was comforting, though still unreadable.

But the moment Bucky leaned an inch closer, you pulled away. Blinking, stepping out of his embrace. For some reason, you couldn’t look at him right away so you got your hands busy and said, “I’ll clear the table. We still have a movie to watch. Can you go set it up while I do this?”

Bucky left without a word said.

You were a mess while you transferred the plates from the conservatory to the kitchen. Sure he wasn’t about to lean in and … no. It’s just the wine, you kept reminding yourself. It was the wine and the memories that came with the song. You were vulnerable and hurting and he was probably missing his parents too so… it was nothing.

You went upstairs and got changed into PJs before you came downstairs again. You found Bucky in the living room, on the couch with the blankets you always used for movie nights.

“You remembered these too.” You spoke, getting comfy on the couch and grabbing one of the blankets.

He smiled, “I never forget a thing.” Then he reached down and handed you a bowl of popcorn of your own. “I didn’t even forget your favourite caramel popcorn.”

That cheered you up immediately, “Oh! Thank you. What are we watching?”

Again, as the movie started and a quiet conversation flowed between the two of you, the awkwardness from earlier was long forgotten.

Halfway through the movie, your eyes began drooping. But you fought it for as long as you could, eventually scooting closer to Bucky so you could place your head on his shoulder again. The moment you did, you were asleep.

Bucky watched you instead of the movie. He’d fought these feelings for way too long now. He was in love with you since way before he knew what being in love meant. But you always treated him like a young boy, a kid. Okay, at some point he was. But now? Couldn’t you see he could take care of you now?

Couldn’t you see him for who he was? Couldn’t you see that he was strong enough for both of you now? That he was all grown up, and strong, and capable of being your man?

The movie ended and the room was suddenly darker than earlier, now only illuminated by moonlight. The moonlight reflected on the calm lake too, turning it silvery. Bucky looked down at your face so close to his and he couldn’t help but trace a finger down your cheek.

Wrong move. Because that woke you up.

You were completely disoriented, blinking in confusion. Bucky couldn’t help himself as he gently grabbed your chin, “Hey,” He whispered.

“Hmm?” You were still disoriented as you looked up at him.

He couldn’t stop himself and before he knew it, his mouth was on yours, kissing you like he’d been dreaming of doing for years now. He sensed your surprise and felt how you froze against him, surely still disoriented but trying to figure out what was happening. But he wasn’t ready to stop yet.

So he kissed you with even more vigour. Cupping your face and licking into your soft, warm mouth as his hand drifted down to your breast. He heard you let out a gasp the moment he cupped you through your satin PJs, Bucky moaned into your mouth as he kissed you deeper, fondling with your breast and nipple. He couldn’t help himself, he felt like an animal pawing at what’s his to play with.

And that broke you out of whatever half awake state you were in. You quickly realised what you were doing, opening your eyes to find Bucky nearly on top of you. You quickly pushed him away and got off the couch, breathing heavily.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke gently as he tried to grab your hand again, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me.” He walked up to you, almost pulling you into his arms again.

“Bucky, no.” You stopped him softly, standing in the middle of the dark room with your hands in your hair. God, what the fuck were you doing just now?

“It’s okay, I-,”

“No,” You said, a little more firmly. “It’s not. I…” You took a deep breath before you accidentally snapped at him. “Just go to bed, Buck. It’s late.” You were calm again, though your heart kept racing.

He lingered for a few seconds more, before rushing up the stairs.

It was late and your mind was a mess so you curled up on the couch and tried falling asleep there itself but then you kept thinking about Bucky’s lips on yours and you wanted to cry. This was Bucky for goodness’ sake, how could you have let this happen?

You waited for a while and then walked up the stairs, cringing hard when you saw Bucky’s room. You rushed into your bedroom and let the tears fall. You were crying mainly out of frustration, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were betraying your friends who were gone. This was their son. You were meant to guide him and help him be the best version of himself, not whatever this was.

You laid down in bed and fell asleep shortly after, dreading the morning to come.

—

Morning came and you woke up feeling less terrible. It’ll be okay, you told yourself, perhaps you’ll go downstairs and Bucky will pretend nothing happened and you’ll fall into your little routine like you always do and everything will be fine.

You got dressed and ready for the day and right before you went downstairs, you decided to step out on the balcony of your bedroom for a little while. The chill morning air always made you feel better.

So you did. You stepped outside and breathed in the forest air and all was well again. Then in the distance, out in the lake you saw Bucky swimming casually like he always did. You also saw the moment he realised you were out there too. You waited for a cold reaction, or any awkwardness. You waited for him to ignore you and keep swimming. But he didn’t. He raised a hand and waved at you.

You immediately waved back, breathing out in relief. You wouldn’t know what you would do if things got messy and sour between you and Bucky. He was closer than family and you two had endured so much together that you always believed your bond would be indestructible.

But then last night… was simply a mistake, you told yourself. You had had wine and he’s young and a little wild and it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. No, he must not have meant it.

So you went downstairs and got started on breakfast. You were a little on the edge so when Bucky walked in, with a towel on his shoulders, you nearly jumped at the sight of him.

“Morning,” You said smiling, then pointed at the pan, “I’m making breakfast, hurry up in the shower and come eat before it’s cold, okay?”

Bucky nodded with a smirk and replied, “Yes ma’am.” Then walked away, and you could hear him rushing up the stairs.

You made two plates and set them down on the breakfast counter just as Bucky walked back into the kitchen. Showered and dressed, but just in dark grey sweatpants this time. And you didn’t comment on his lack of a shirt this time.

“Coffee?” You asked.

“Yes please.”

You poured coffee in two mugs and sat down to eat as well. And for the first time in forever, breakfast time was tense. Neither of you spoke, neither of you really ate either. Just sips of coffee and pushing your food around on your plate.

You took it upon yourself to stop torturing both of you. “Okay, if you’re still thinking about what happened last night, I-,”

“It was my fault.” He replied quickly, cutting you off.

You waited for an apology because that’s how this conversation went in your head. Apologies and forgiveness and then done, back to how you normally act. But Bucky didn’t apologise. Not that you needed him too, but it would’ve made this a lot less weird.

Then you couldn’t take it. “It was probably mine too.”

“No it wasn’t.” He said, “It was my fault.”

You placed your mug down. “It’s not gonna happen again.” You said, and watched how he tensed up like he didn’t like the sound of that. “So can we please stop being awkward now? You mean so much to me, Buck, I can’t bear not talking to you.”

Bucky gave you a soft smile. Then said, “Also I went swimming this morning.”

You picked up your mug again, smiling as you said, “I know, I saw you.”

“I didn’t bring even a drop of lake water in.” He boasted. “You can check.” He gave you a cocky look.

You chuckled, “Guess you really grew up, huh?”

His smile faded for a brief moment as he said, “I did.” Then he quickly added, “Hey, can you make those cupcakes today?”

You smiled at the normalcy again. “Yeah, sure. Will you help me with the icing? Like you used to do?”

“Of course.”

—

You two talked while you made the batter and put the cupcakes in the oven. You played board games while you waited for the cupcakes to be done and cool.

Then you got the icing ready in pipes and Bucky helped.

“You remember how I used to always mess up the icing just so you’d give me the ruined cupcakes?” He asks, nostalgia heavy in his tone.

“Yeah, and you’d purposely mess up just to eat more.” You added, remembering that too.

Bucky laughed, “I still don’t get how I was skinny up until I went to uni, with the amount of your cupcakes I ate each time we were here.”

You chuckled at the memory of young Bucky stuffing his face with cupcakes. “You were a growing boy then.” And then you turned to look up at him and caught him smuggling yet another cupcake into his mouth, “Guess you still are.” You teased.

He smirked, then piped a huge amount of icing on his finger and casually just smeared it on your cheek. You froze in surprise.

“You did not…”

“Oh, I did.”

Then it was your turn, but he kept moving away so you grabbed icing sugar and threw it right at his face when he least expected it. It went not just on his face but all over his bare chest as well.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he chased you around the kitchen. Your laughter and shrieks echoed in the house, until finally Bucky caught you and smeared some more icing on your face now that he had you trapped between his naked chest and the counter.

You had nowhere to go so you surrendered, laughing, “Okay, okay you win. You win, I give up.” Then you looked up at Bucky and there it was again, that look from last night when you were dancing in the conservatory.

“Bucky…” You said, ready to push him away but he held your hand so gently that your heart broke a little.

“Please,” He mumbled, “Let me have this.” His voice cracked, “Just once, please… you’re all I have.” There was so much hidden in his plea. ‘I’m broken and so are you, let’s be complete together.’ But were you ready for that?

You were quiet, and then he leaned in. Slowly, carefully he leaned in and kissed you again. You let him. He kissed you deeper, his hands resting on either side of your waist as he pressed his body against yours. You let him do that too. Feeling his body heat wrap around you.

But then his kisses got greedy and demanding, his hands slowly trailed up and down your sides, caressing your rib cage and making you feel involuntarily weak in the knees. “Fuck, this feels good…” He moaned. “You feel so good…”

This should feel wrong, immoral. But you’d been touch starved for so long that your body betrayed your mind and leaned into the touch, not caring about whose touch it was. It only needed warmth and attention which you’d deprived yourself of for years now.

“Bucky, we should stop…” You spoke softly against his open mouth. Though your body just wanted to seek solace from the Bucky’s touch.

He gasped against your lips, “We’re not doing anything wrong.” He reasoned, even though it took everything in him to hold back from ravaging you like a hungry beast. “Just kissing,” He mumbled, kissing you deeper, “I’m just kissing you. See?”

You felt his mouth drift down to your jaw, your ear, your neck… and you couldn’t think straight anymore; your heartbeats rang in your ears, your legs felt numb, your mind was all foggy with desire while also fighting to make sense of what was happening.

Bucky’s mouth drove you insane, his hands even more so as they slid under your shirt and groped and teased your breasts.

“Fuck…” He groaned against your skin, kissing and biting like he could consume you. “Fuck!” He growled right in your ear; making you shiver, “Tell me to stop, please.” He begged, like he couldn’t stop on his own, his warm breath fanning the side of your face, “Tell me to fucking stop, I can’t-,”

You cut him off by pushing him away and taking a few steps away from him yourself. Both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing, you couldn’t even look at him. Your face burned with a mixture of emotion, but mostly shame.

“We can’t.” You said, monotonously. “We cannot do this, Buck.”

You dared to look up at him and found him looking betrayed, and broken. Like he’d been stabbed and left to die.

“Why can’t you see what I see?” He asked, breathing hard as well. “We deserve each other.”

“Enough, Buck.” You shook your head. “You’re still young and you can’t see what I see.”

Bucky scoffed, getting irritated, “Young?” He repeated like the word burned his mouth as he said it. Then he was irritated because you kept avoiding his eyes, “Look at me!”

“I am!” You spat back, finally looking at him again, getting equally irritated - mostly at yourself. “I am looking at you, Bucky. And I cannot do this, we shouldn’t. Please.”

Something about the look on his face told you that this wasn’t the last time you’d be having this conversation. Very few things stayed the same about Bucky as he grew up, one of those being his stubbornness. He was also very spoiled.

He was quiet for a few seconds, then he asked, sounding as cocky as ever, “Do you hate me? Because the way you squirmed and moaned just now when I had my hands on your body? It didn’t feel like you hated me, nor my touch.”

Hate him? He meant so much to you, couldn’t he see that? You carefully ignored the last part of what he said and answered sincerely, sighing, “No Bucky, I could never hate you and you know that.” Your lips were still tingly, like his mouth was still on yours. You wanted it to feel wrong so badly.

He took a step forward, cornering you again. “Then is it someone else? Another man? Are you pushing me away because you’re seeing someone else?” He asked, looking every bit like a jealous lover of yours that he has no right to be. “And don’t you fucking lie to me.” You heard the growl hidden in his tone as he stepped closer, his body almost touching yours, “Is anyone else touching you when I’m not there?”

“Oh shut up, Buck.” You stepped out of the way before he trapped you again. “You can’t talk to me like that.” You said, as firmly as you could.

Bucky scoffed, “Oh yeah?” He stepped closer again, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him, “You didn’t seem to mind anything I did just now when I was about to bend you over that counter and-”

“Enough!” You got out of his arms and slapped him across the face so hard that your eyes began watering immediately. Oh god, no…

Bucky’s cheek turned red and the guilt made it hard for you to breathe. Your heart hurt more than it ever did. It hurt more after slapping him than it did when you thought about the past, or the life you could’ve had if the accident hadn’t happened. It hurt looking at his rapidly bruising cheek, knowing you struck him.

What were you thinking? He was hurting too. So much that he probably wasn’t even thinking straight. And you slapped him? On top of all that? You couldn’t bear the look in his glossy eyes as he turned to look at you like the confused boy he used to be a long time ago.

Your tears streamed down your face, silently. You turned around and walked away, sobbing quietly as you made your way upstairs to hide in your room until later tonight.

You were a mess even as you took a bath and changed into a comfy nightdress, thinking that maybe all that crying would put you to bed early. But no. Your mind just wouldn’t shut off. You skipped dinner obviously. You wouldn’t be able to look Bucky in the face, not tonight.

You tried reading, but you couldn’t focus. You tried answering emails but you simply didn’t have the energy to deal with work right now. So you just laid in bed and watched the ceiling. Your tears had dried up and there was none left, there was just guilt.

You’d gotten into the habit of caring for Bucky that there was nothing more you wanted to do than to just hug him and apologise for hurting him. Then maybe try and explain to him why this thing between you two would be wrong.

Another hour went by and the house was eerily quiet. You had only one fear for now, that you would wake up the next morning and find the house empty and Bucky would be gone, and that you might lose him forever. You sent a silent thought and apology to his deceased parents, some of the best friends you’d ever have, I’m sorry, I don’t know how to care for him.

Just then, you heard two soft knocks on your door. And the fear solidified inside of you. Is he here to say goodbye? As you walked over to the bedroom door to open it, you were almost certain you’d see him all dressed up with his bags packed, ready to walk out the front door. And if that were the case, you wouldn’t know how to stop him. This pushing and pulling that’s been going on for the past two days has to stop at some point. But what then? Would you lose Bucky forever? You couldn’t bear the thought of that.

You opened the door with a heavy heart, holding your breath. But all you found on the other side was the same Bucky from earlier. Dressed in his sweatpants, the icing sugar wiped off of his bare chest, that bruise forming on his cheek now darker but something was different. He had a look in his eyes. Not stubbornness, but determination. He wasn’t angry anymore. He gave you a soft look which only made you feel worse.

You sniffled, not realising that you’d been tearing up looking at the bruise on his face.

“Can I come in?” There was a hint of coldness like you’d never heard before in his voice. Like it was void of any emotion at all. But it was all a mask, you knew. He was hiding so much. How come you never saw just how much he was hiding all the time?

You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak so you just nodded quickly and opened the door wider to let him into the spacious bedroom. He walked in and when you shut the door behind you, he turned to look at you with an apologetic look on his face. Even though it was you who was supposed to apologise this time.

You kept wringing your hands, keeping your eyes low on the ground and unable to look at him. Your eyes watered again. But when he cleared his throat, you looked up at him instinctively.

His stare softened and he opened his arms for you gently. “Come here,” He whispered, like you were the one who needed comforting.

You sniffled and rushed into his arms, wrapping your arms around him and crying silently into the crook of his neck. “Oh Bucky…” You sobbed, “I’m so sorry for hitting you, honey. I don’t know what happened. I- I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just-,”

“Shh,” He cut you off, hugging you securely. “It’s okay. I was being out of line.”

You pulled away to look up at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry.” You carefully reached out to touch his red cheek, “I know it hurts, I’m really sorry.”

Bucky gave you a soft smile, “I told you it’s fine.” He wiped the warm tear which fell down your cheek and said, “We need to talk.”

You nodded, slowly stepping out of his embrace. “Yes, we do.” You pointed at the two couches in the corner of the room and began walking over there when Bucky grabbed your hand and stopped you.

Standing in the middle of the dimly lit room, he said out of nowhere, “I’m in love with you. And there’s nothing I can nor want to do to change that.”

Well that came out of nowhere.

You sighed, promising yourself to stay calm and collected while navigating this delicate situation. You stared into his familiar blue eyes and took a deep breath before you spoke.

“Bucky… I know how it feels when you think you want something so badly. Especially when it’s something you know you shouldn’t want.” He was surprisingly quiet so you kept talking, “When I was younger, I thought the world belonged to me too. I thought it was mine for the taking and I thought I could just have whatever I wanted if I desired it passionately enough.” You inched closer, then refrained from touching his face fondly. “But then, you grow up to find that at some point, you need to consider other factors before you just take.”

He shook his head, “You’re not listening to me. I said I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time and I can’t hide it anymore.”

You sighed again, “Buck, you can’t be. This cannot happen, okay? Just please, don’t make this difficult for the both of us. You’re still so young, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He argued immediately, in a bitter tone, “Don’t invalidate my feelings. And don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

That made you feel worse, “I’m not.” You couldn’t help but cup his cheek affectionately like you did so many times throughout the years. “Honey… how do I explain this to you?” You shook your head, feeling your lashes getting wet with tears again. “The years I’ve known your parents were some of the best years of my life. We were all-,” Your voice cracked and Bucky noticed the way you trembled, “We were more than a group of friends, we were a family, especially here. I can’t betray them like this.”

Bucky gently wrapped his hand around your wrist, keeping your palm pressed to his face and he leaned into your touch just barely. “Betray them?” He asked, in that same cold tone as earlier.

“Bucky…” You trailed off, not knowing what to say to that. You tried to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

Bucky kept going, “They left.” He said, like he was stating a fact. “We buried them, remember? We buried them together, you and I. They’re gone, long gone.”

You shook your head, “Parts of them live here, Bucky. Why do you think I keep coming back to this place?”

“I’m not asking you to forget them.” He clarified. “I don’t want to forget them. But we’re allowed to move on with our lives, are we not? Don’t you think they would want us to take care of each other?”

“Not like this, Buck. You don’t understand, you’re-,”

“What?” He scoffed, cutting you off, “I’m what? Too young? Too wild? I’m immature and I don’t understand the way the world works yet?” He scoffed again, “Do you know how broken I was when I left for uni after mom and dad?”

You sniffled, then said, “I know, honey, I-,”

He cut you off again, tightening his grip on your wrist, “No you don’t. You don’t know because you weren’t there.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, just sad.

You listened to each word carefully.

“I missed them so much, but I also missed you. I wanted to die. I felt alone and I thought I could never have you, thought I’d never even see you again. I knew your heart was broken because you loved him, and you could never love me like that.” He paused. “Then I thought maybe you’d never want to be back here again, that you’d want nothing to do with me because maybe I’d keep reminding you of what happened. I thought I lost you too.”

He paused again, wiping yet another silent tear which fell down your cheek.

“I was having all sorts of messed up thoughts. I kept thinking about how I should’ve been involved in the accident instead of mom and dad.” That made you sob but he kept going, he needed to let it all out today, “Because would’ve been a win-win for me, right? My parents would be safe, I wouldn’t have to watch the woman I love marry another man because he’d be dead too.”

You cried silently, not knowing whether to pull him in for a hug or to pull away from him. There was a glazed look in his eyes. Like he wasn’t there.

“But those thoughts were fucked up and scary. That’s when I knew I needed therapy.” When he looked into your eyes, the glazed look in his eyes wasn't there anymore. He continued, “So I got plenty of it, and it helped somewhat. I started taking care of myself again. But I was still so lonely. And then you reached out that same year, asking me to come back here for Christmas just so we can have some sort of normalcy in our lives.” He said, looking down at you with those soft blue eyes. “You saved me.”

You sighed shakily, your voice cracking as you spoke. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve reached out sooner.” You sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Buck.”

He shook his head. “You were hurting too. But you reached out just in time. I know how it sounds but I need you to know that I’m not just saying it, I mean it when I say I love you. I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You’re all I have left,” He said, repeating what he said the other night.

Your heart was breaking all over again. “Bucky…”

“You need someone to take care of you too.” He murmured, leaning closer until his lips brushed against your forehead when he spoke, “The people we loved, they’re gone. But you and I? We’re still here, aren’t we?” His voice was so soft now, whispering he pleaded, “Live, with me.” Then added, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Let me show you how good we can be together.” His mouth moved down from your temple, slowly down your tear-stained cheek, until it reached the corner of your mouth. “I can take care of you.” He whispered, “Let me.”

You were still silently crying. Mainly because it felt bad to admit that he might be right. Ever since the accident, and all the losses which followed, your life had come to a stop. You were just working and surviving each day. And repeat. Endlessly for years now. Coming to the lake house was your only escape but even then, days spent here hurt too. In a good way at times, but still hurt.

“I don’t know how, Buck.” You sniffled. “It just hurts. I don’t know if I can make it stop. Or if I should.”

“You deserved to be happy. To be loved, and taken care of. And so do I.” He said, cupping your face to make you look at him, “Don’t you think they would want us to be happy and stop hurting?”

You blinked and more tears fell down your face, “I’m scared.” You admitted, both your hands wrapping around his wrists for support because your legs felt weak.

Bucky leaned in and kissed you on the corner of your mouth as he wiped your tears away, “Scared of what, baby? Tell me.”

It took a while for you to formulate what you wanted to say. But Bucky was patient. He was quiet, just kissing your face until you could finally talk.

“To let go…” You sighed, “I’m not used to it not hurting. I… forgot what it was like before the- before the whole thing happened and now I’m scared, Buck. What if we’re disrespecting them?”

“I don’t mean to sound heartless but we’ve got to understand that they’re not here anymore. You and I are. And we need each other. We’re barely alive when we’re far from each other, far from this place. Don’t you see? We’re meant to be here together.” He spoke softly still. “It’s time now. Just, let go. I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” His mouth was just an inch away from yours as he whispered sincerely, “Let go, baby. I promise I’m right here.”

So you did.

You shut your brain down for a moment and leaned in to close the gap between your mouths. You kissed him.

Bucky’s hands drifted down your body until they grabbed you by the waist and pulled you further into him. Your hands slid into his soft hair as he deepened the kiss, urging you to walk backwards. Towards the bed.

You barely made it there, Bucky was already making you whine and moan with how gently but lovingly he touched you everywhere he could.

“This little thing is killing me,” He said, tugging on your thin, satin nightdress. “Can I take it off of you? Please?” He breathed into your open mouth, before kissing you again as he waited for a reply.

“Yes,” You said, breathless already. Though a little nervous since you knew there was nothing beneath the nightdress.

But Bucky knew that already. Which is why he just about tore the thing off of your body. He then took his time admiring and caressing every inch of your body before he carefully pushed you down on the bed behind you. And he was on top of you in a heartbeat.

“How am I supposed to behave when you walk around the house looking this good, huh?” He held himself up above you with one hand, while the other explored your now bare body.

He was barely touching you where you desperately needed him to but you were already moaning and squirming under him.

“Look at me.” He demanded.

You did. You opened your eyes and stared right up into those wild ocean blue ones.

Bucky smiled, then leaned to kiss you again. “Tell me you want me,” He whispered against your mouth as you arched your back because his fingers were dangerously close to your dripping folds.

“Fuck… I want you, Bucky. Please…”

He smirked against your lips, his fingers moving up your inner thighs until he found your wet folds. He parted then with his finger gently, sliding his two fingers up and down before teasing your hole, applying just enough pressure to make you whine under him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, pushing one finger inside you. His voice was deeper than usual which made you shiver.

You were breathless as you slowly slid your fingers into his soft, dark hair, “Yes,” You whimpered. “Yes, please…” You had stopped thinking about anything other than this moment right here. Let go… let go… let go…

Bucky kissed your neck while he slid his finger in and out of you, stroking you just right until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. Only then did he added another finger and your moans got louder and louder.

He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke softly like he was coaxing you, “My fingers feel good, don’t they?” He asked. “I know they do.” He cooed. “You see what I mean? If you let me take care of you, you can have this every day. In fact, multiple times a day. Whenever you want, baby.”

You whined even louder at the sound of those words, unable to help it. And Bucky loved that sound so much he almost gave it right there and then. But he didn’t want to make you come yet, so he brought you right on the edge and removed his fingers.

You whined in frustration but then felt his mouth gradually move down your body, kissing down your neck, nibbling and biting down your collarbones and teasing your breasts, taking each nipple in his mouth and sucking on it until you squealed in pleasure. He kissed down your stomach, your hips, your thighs… until he knelt in between your bare legs and stared up at you.

“Will you let me taste you?” He asked, looking like he was having a hard time holding back from devouring you.

You answered by lifting your upper body up onto your elbows, grabbing him carefully by the back of his head and gently urging his mouth down on you.

You moaned when you felt him smirk against your wetness, his tongue darting out to lick you, parting your folds leisurely with his warm, eager tongue.

He placed his hands on both your thighs and spread your legs further apart, pressing his soft, warm mouth further into you. The sight of his head of thick, black hair in between your thighs was not something you ever wanted to forget.

“You taste so good.” He murmured, looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, rubbing his lips all over your wet folds. His voice alone made you squirm and whine. “Tell me how good my tongue feels.” He said, parting your folds even more so he could lick deeper inside you.

It felt like you were losing your mind, unable to form a coherent thought.

When you didn’t answer right away, Bucky pulled away and gave you a playful bite on your inner thigh. “Tell me.” He repeated, refusing to go back to eating you out until you told him what he wanted to hear.

You cried in frustration before whispering, “Oh you feel so good, Buck. So fucking good… and I want more, please, I want more,” You whined, feeling your wetness slowly dripping out of you while he watched shamelessly.

He smirked, bringing his mouth down on you again. His warm, wet tongue made you whine and squirm even more as he held you there, open for him, feasting on you as he pleased.

Your loud moans didn’t bother him. The way you tugged on his hair only made him lick deeper into you. He brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you cry out.

“So good…” he whispered, more so to himself as he kept making you moan louder and louder just with his tongue. “Better than I ever imagined…”

All you could focus on was how he slowly brought a finger up to your folds, sliding it slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds before he slid a finger inside you again, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

When you arched your back, feeling his finger stroke you deep inside, Bucky pulled away and asked, “Am I the first man to touch you here in all these years? Is my finger the first thing to ever touch you here in a really long time? Hmm?”

Good god.

“Yes,” You whispered, breathless and wanting, moving your hips in slow circles as he fingered you, touching sensitive places you’d forgotten even knew existed.

You saw the look of primal pride in his eyes at the sound of that ‘yes’. Possessive and territorial. He kept his eyes focused on yours as he thrust his finger slightly deeper inside.

“Good.” He said, in a deep, gravelly voice. He kept his eyes on yours as he leaned down to press his mouth to your clit again, his tongue teasing your clit as he finger-fucked you until you squirmed and moaned and gasped under his touch. “Let go baby, come for me.” He murmured gently.

You moaned out loud, your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you came hard, all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger, your moans and gasps of pleasure filled the room.

The outside world was long forgotten. This bedroom was your entire world right now.

You couldn’t help but smile faintly in bliss as Bucky left small kisses up your body, coming up to loom above you again. He stared deep into your eyes. And you wanted him so bad it hurt.

“See how easy that was?” He said, smiling down at you as his knuckles caressed your cheek. “Should we do that again?”

Nodding and breathless, you murmured, “Yes…”

Bucky chuckled. “I love you so much,” He whispered, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away to take off his sweatpants. Then he was onto you again, pressing you down on the soft bed sheets as he kissed you again.

His fingers found themselves in between your legs again, spreading your wetness around as much as possible before he began stroking himself, bringing the tip of his cock closer to your hole. He purposely slid his tip up and down your folds, making your back arch and making you whine into the kiss.

“I’m gonna make it feel good, baby,” He whispered against your mouth. “I’m gonna make it stop hurting, you hear me? I promise you I’ll make it stop hurting. And I’m gonna take care of you. Forever.” He kissed your face, whispering his promises into your ear while you whined and squirmed under him.

His body weight on top of you was comforting in ways you couldn’t describe. It felt like this is where you always wanted to be.

Bucky kept teasing you, sliding his cock up and down your slit, leaning down to brush his lips against yours just so he could swallow your moans and it was torture.

“Please,” You whispered into the kiss before biting down on his lip and sucking on it. “Please, fuck me.” You murmured again. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Bucky leaned in for a proper kiss, his tattooed hand wrapping around your throat gently as he slowly slipped his cock inside of you, groaning as he went. His lean, warm body pressing down onto you as he gradually slid in. breathless as well, he said, “You won’t believe how many times I’ve fantasised about you saying those words to me.” He sighed, pushing further into you. “I was too young then, I didn’t know how to make it good for you.” He said, chuckling to himself, “But I do now.”

You moaned as you felt him stretching you, filling you up. Every inch of him sliding into your tight hole and filling a void. You cried out when he struggled to fit in at first, and he had to gently force his cock in.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s just me, baby.” He whispered, “Let me in, it’s okay.” He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist, then slowly leaned down to give you another kiss.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” He whispered against your mouth. “Your body will get used to me in no time.”

You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit. You whined and moaned at the unfamiliar but pleasurable feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

Bucky let out a growl when he felt your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you. He kept moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. No shame. No guilt. Just this feeling. There was no turning back now and this felt right. Oh God, it felt right.

“Look at how well you take my cock.” Then he let out a chuckle which made you shiver underneath him. His words only made you clench around him harder. He kissed along your cheek, “You feel so good.” He whispered into your ear, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your neck. “You feel like a perfect dream.” He breathed against your warm skin.

You moaned at how perfect his muscular body felt against yours. His hair tickled your cheek as he moved. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist.

“I feel good inside you, don’t I? Hmm?” His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good.

You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot. It had been so long since you’d been with someone that the feeling was almost foreign.

“Look at you,” He whispered, “You look fucking beautiful with my cock inside of you.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. “You’re gonna take all of me, won’t you?” He said, kissing your skin. “All of my cum deep inside that womb, huh? Maybe you’ll even carry my baby. Fuck I can see you already, all pretty and swollen. We’ll make our own family together, won’t we?”

You nodded, unable to say because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. You could barely think straight.

“Well then,” his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it gently while he pounded into you faster than earlier, “Come for me.”

And that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing.

But he wasn’t done yet.

He pulled out and flipped you around, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the soft pillows on the bed.

You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and teased in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan before he was even inside you again.

His body bent over yours, his warm chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “You’re all mine now, you hear me?”

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, low voice. You whimpered, “All yours.” You murmured, voice laced with need and lust as he pulled away from your ear and kissed along your shoulders.

Then you felt his hands on you as he gripped each side of your hips then pushed into you from behind. “There, you feel that? That’s your man fucking you.” He whispered fucking you with slow and deliberate strokes. “Your man who’s gonna take care of you from now on. You don’t have to worry about a single thing, you hear me? I’m here now. I’ve got you, baby.”

Your fingers desperately tried to grip the fabric beneath you tightly, and your mind felt foggy, you moaned wantonly as he pounded into you, not easing into it this time. He took you higher and higher.

Your walls throbbed and clenched around him each time he filled you up. With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls violently. “Come for me again.”

You tightened around him immediately - coming undone again as you felt him come deep inside you, filling you up and groaning right into your ear as he did. The sounds of his growls and moans made you shiver under him.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He murmured, settling down in bed and spooning you from behind, keeping his still semi-hard cock buried inside you. He wrapped his arms around you and his voice lulled you to sleep as he whispered sweet promises into your ear. “I’ve got you now, don’t worry. I’m here…”

—

When you woke up the next morning, Bucky was still asleep next to you. It took great effort to untangle yourself from his embrace without waking him up.

You took a minute or two to look at the bite marks and scratches all over his neck and chest, and you waited. You waited for the guilt to come flooding in, for the shame to suffocate you. You waited for it to feel wrong. But it didn’t.

You quietly made your way to the bathroom and did your usual morning routine; showered, brushed, got dressed in warm clothes. And then you stepped outside on the balcony as soundlessly as possible.

The forest around you seemed greener today. The wind felt more crisp than usual. The lake was more beautiful than it had ever been. The mountains seemed more magical than ever. It was like the world felt lighter and livelier around you this morning. Or maybe it had always been this way and you were just looking at it with a less broken heart this morning.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then you heard him walking up to you. Bucky wrapped a soft blanket around the two of you and hugged you from behind. He nuzzled your neck until it tickled and you laughed pulling away a little.

“Don’t scare me like that,” He said in his deep, morning voice. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I thought you left me.” He pouted a little.

You smiled faintly, looking down at the lake. “You know I could never leave you, Buck.”

He tightened his grip around you and smiled so bright it warmed you inside. “Because you love me?”

You chuckled, “Because I love you.”

He swayed the two of you side to side gently. Then his hand came up to rest on top of your belly and you felt him tense up behind you before he spoke up, “I know I said some things last night. And I would never force you to do anything but I need you to know that I was serious. I do want… all that with you. Like how I want everything with you. Not right now but, someday.”

You turned around to face him, your hands on his shoulders. Bucky’s blue eyes made any restlessness, any doubt go away. “Someday.” You agreed.

He smiled again and it made the world brighter than earlier. “You and I, we’ll make it, won’t we?”

You leaned in and hugged him, resting your forehead on his chest, breathing in his scent and relishing his warmth. Something fit into place as you did. Like a missing piece slotting back into place. So you said, confidently, “We will, Buck.”

—

Fin.

a/n: psst, they did make it till the end ;)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au

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laylajeffany · 3 months

Text

Grant Us Peace, Forevermore | Chaos Universe OneShot for @endofn1ght

Summary: Wednesday and her fellow Raven (OC/Emiliana) engage in witchcraft, looking for additional peace after the horrific events of the past year continue to weigh on them. WC: 4.9k (part of layla's <5k challenge that barely makes it lol) Rated: E

Note: New Lovely Thorns content coming in the next day or so, for now enjoy revisiting another OC from the Chaos universe as @endofn1ght prompted Chaos-verse Wednesday with Emiliana doing witchcraft. Thank you for all the support and forcing me to analyze some of my work in ways I hadn't previously thought about. This is part of my less than 5k writing challenge of prompts that I'm only allowed to work on at my place of employment when my free time is actually free (was a little less than usual over the last week which is why this took so long).

Set between Wednesday's birthday at the end of Chapter 31 and the start of the epilogue; end of semester / late April-ish at Nevermore - enjoy!

Wednesday kicked the final bit of gravel on her way up to the front porch of one of her favorite places. Emiliana’s cottage looked somehow smaller in the late spring; with everything finally green, the large shade cast from centuries-old woods dwarfed the structure considerably. Augustus slithered down her wrist, excited to enter the home, irritate Piper and greet his favorite turtles. The windows were open on the front, and she assumed likely the French doors on the back. Glad that Emiliana was letting in fresh air, as sometimes the house took on a more powerful odor of stale cigarettes when it was just her home for a while, Wednesday was surprised to have to knock – that she hadn’t heard her coming.

The door opened, revealing a frazzled looking Emiliana. It wasn’t terribly out of the ordinary to find her hair tangled and in just her long, black skirt and too-loose tank top, but she looked particularly greasy that afternoon. Wednesday bit back a sigh instead of a hello as she considered she’d need to shove her in the shower before they did anything productive to relieve the nagging sensation swirling around in her gut. “What is the day?”

Struggling not to smile, Wednesday regarded, “It’s Thursday.”

“I have not gone mad, then. I hate it when you do this – you send me into mild cardiac arrest. You are unharmed?”

Nodding, Wednesday stepped in as she closed the door – spotting a mess in the kitchen, a sink filled with unwashed dishes, a pile of laundry on the sofa, and the floor of the living room covered in remnants of a spell. Her entryway altar was a disaster and Piper was nowhere to be seen – probably avoiding the chaos. She watched as Emiliana struggled to place Wednesday, and tried to read her energy at the same time. She wondered if Emiliana could sense just how unease she truly was.

“I attempted to call and text all morning. I finished working with Aunt Larissa on the proposal for the new council duties, and she doesn’t want me to start anything new until next week. Enid has physical therapy and then her rehearsal. Mother is working with the Doves on oaths, father is entertaining Fangs that are in town, Josie is doing real administration, and you know I simply can’t be bothered with the Nightshades.”

“I am your last resort, then,” Emiliana crossed her arms, her expression mostly playful.

“No,” Wednesday argued. “I just know that you prefer your alone time unless it’s scheduled and was explaining why I’m interrupting…” She looked around at the mess. “This.”

The older Raven gave a chuckle, tugging Wednesday to her and placing an obnoxious kiss on the top of her head. Augustus immediately tore off in search of the yellow and white snake he longed to bother. “You are the one person who can always interrupt me, little bird, regardless of how it fazes my mental state. I am afraid we will have to take most activities upstairs or outside as it is a touch of a mess in here…”

Wednesday popped a brow. “Just a touch? Em – go shower. You’re gross.”

She gave a little cackle into her smoker’s cough. “Indeed, I am. The week has flown by, apparently. I shall see you on the other side of clean,” She didn’t fight the direction, and took to the bathroom with a small salute.

Once she disappeared, Wednesday hurried to start picking things up. It was far from her responsibility, but as Emiliana had picked up so many of the pieces of her life that spring, it hardly seemed enough or like a burden to care for her. Realizing the laundry on the couch wasn’t to be folded, Wednesday rolled her eyes and stuffed it into the washing machine, then moved to unload the half-full dishwasher that Emiliana had been taking things out of instead of putting them away throughout the week. That didn’t take long, and she made haste to reload and run a cycle there, too.

She was sweeping salt away from her to put in a jar after getting the majority of the spell on the floor picked up when Emiliana came out with her wet hair curling into ringlets. She opened the French doors, as hoped, and wondered, “Might we start with music?”

Tilting her head a little, Wednesday decided that was more than appropriate. Her goals for the late April recovery period were to get back to some of her long-abandoned hobbies, and starting a spell session with Emiliana by playing her favorite instrument would be a remarkable way to return to it. Playing music had once been one of her only ways of settling her spirit, and to play with a fellow Raven would be helpful.

She moved it to the end of the couch, wishing Thing were there to turn the pages as Emiliana set up a collapsible music stand for her and placed the selection she wanted there. “I have been composing something I shall play for you after this warmup, and perhaps you can come up with the strings to match?”

“I confess, original music content hasn’t been my forte over my studies, but I would be willing to try,” Wednesday agreed with a small shrug. Emiliana slipped onto her piano bench, wiggled her fingers, and counted them down twice before starting the melody to a famous duet.

Wednesday came in on the third line of music, her bow sweeping over the strings as her fingers moved in time up top. She couldn’t help the smile that came over her features as she got into it – the old habit returning, a swell of joy filling her from the outside in.

The first selection was about eight minutes long, and as it wrapped, Emiliana clumsily dashed over to Wednesday, hugging her tightly. “I love you.”

Grinning into her shoulder, Wednesday gave something like a nuzzle. She considered what she knew about the other Raven that had impacted them – how David Bowie’s music had been the soundtrack of her life. There was something distinctly soothing about music to someone so dark-coded as they, and she wondered if Goody had preferences as well, even if they were liturgical.

“Play me your new song?”

Nodding, Emiliana returned to her favorite place, closing her eyes and squaring her shoulders before letting the ivory keys take her away. She started, playing mostly minor chords – a haunting tune that Wednesday knew just what to do with, instinctively after the first repeating section. She jumped in – natural ability filling the air with cello sounds along with the piano.

It went on – the two playing in harmony for nearly twenty minutes. As they managed to come to a close without a single line of verbal communication, Wednesday was the one to get up first. She tugged Emiliana’s wrists, leading her to the back porch, where they sat on the swing together in silence.

There weren’t words needed between them – the energy spoke volumes. Emiliana kicked back, letting the swing rock. They both lost time – but not in a dangerous way, as they swung back and forth, back and forth until –

“Em? Oh! Hey, Wednesday!” Josie appeared, wearing a pair of athletic pants and an old reptile rescue organization t-shirt, her hair up in a high ponytail. She leaned down to push a kiss on Emiliana’s temple. “I tried to get a hold of you earlier, I figured you might be in the ether. Did you still want to do spring foraging and grocery shopping…?”

Emiliana opened and closed her mouth. “I am afraid I was not aware of the day. What is the time?”

“Going on four-thirty…I finished a meeting and swapped duty with Larissa for Sunday – I’ve got things to do at school then, regardless – I might as well be required to be there. I am so cool to just have turtle time if you -”

“I would still like – and require to, head into the forest. My stores are woefully low. Might we bring a small bird with us?”

“Yeah,” Josie smiled with teeth. “Provided she wants to? Wednesday – I’m not sure what your intentions were here?”

“To spend time with another creature of the dark,” She spoke in earnest. She wasn’t upset with it being Josie who disrupted the moment – but she certainly wasn’t ready to give Emiliana over to her fiancée. “My mother is out of birch – we could collect and distill some – if you’d be willing to go that far into the woods.”

“Whatever you need. The evening is mine now – we can go for a gathering walk, get groceries, eat something – then I am content to leave you two alone after for a bit before we’re ready to wind down for the night.”

Wednesday hurried in for a basket and her boots, while Emiliana insisted it was more than warm enough to be barefoot. Standing on the back porch with Augustus back around her shoulders from where he’d been snuggled in with a half-consenting Piper, Wednesday watched her big sister figures sharing a kiss in the middle of the grass before disrupting them with a hard stare. Josie giggled and pulled her to be between the Ravens, one arm around either of them. They walked a familiar path deeper into the woods behind the cottage, while Josie filled them in on the latest with just two weeks left in the semester – she was busy, but it seemed like the warming weather had behavior incidents down and she’d been largely able to accomplish her work during the daytime hours, instead of being constantly disrupted. Wednesday was distracted by wildflowers, tapping into her unique botany abilities she’d learned to mimic, discovering that a few could very well be useful in potion making with Emiliana. The red aquilegia was particularly interesting, but she warned Emiliana thrice about not attempting to eat it – as the toxicity would prove for a long and challenging evening.

Josie rolled her eyes when she produced a knife from her boot to peel back birch bark. “I find it interesting you’re still keeping a knife on your person, given all the recent trouble that’s caused you?”

“Maybe I just never learn,” Wednesday said with a shrug. “The consequences didn’t relate to having it on my person-”

“Only because Emiliana and I tampered with a crime scene,” Josie sighed. Wednesday felt a strange twist in her stomach. “I’m just saying, Wednesday. I…I’m not saying to walk around unprotected, just…I don’t even know what I’m suggesting. I just don’t want you forget what you’ve been through.”

“Believe me, I couldn’t if I tried,” Wednesday grumbled, picturing the woman’s biological father in a pool of his own blood. The inability to forget was half the reason she’d come to Emiliana that day in the first place.

“Alright,” Josie pulled her close. “I won’t nag.”

Emiliana snorted in a yeah right sort of disbelief and Josie slugged her a little before gesturing to some wild berries.

The foraging walk went on until nearly five-thirty, where Josie pushed a fruit pouch on both of the Ravens before getting them ready to go to the store. Emiliana tried to argue that she wasn’t the one with blood sugar regulation problems, but Josie told her the last thing she needed was scurvy from a week straight of eating noodles and broth.

They loaded into her SUV and Wednesday apologized to Augustus, who was disappointed they weren’t heading out of town to the pet store to get some of the live tiny mice he was fond of killing before eating fresh. Realizing she’d never been grocery shopping with the two women before, Wednesday should’ve been less surprised at just what a scene it was, with Emiliana’s need to touch every piece of fruit or vegetable before putting it in the cart, and asking Josie to read every label on packaged foods that caught her eye. Understanding why Josie usually just helped her with a delivery order, she found herself exercising patience before finally making it back to get started on a late dinner.

Grateful she’d done the dishes so that it was one less thing to do before she got overly hangry and acted out on it, Wednesday enjoyed the simple dinner of warm sandwiches and the fresh fruit and vegetable cut up before Josie finished up and a knock at the door revealed her best friend, who was going to take her out for a drink while Emiliana and Wednesday did their...whatever they were going to do together.

Wednesday eagerly sorted the foraging materials and she and Emiliana set to work cleaning her altar, putting her stones and other items to charge in the moonlight in a basket before smiling at Wednesday when she plopped beside her. “Alright, my little witch, what are you thinking?”

“Something for peace,” She whispered, finally confessing what she really needed with her fellow Raven. “Enid and I…let’s just say – the nights are challenging. I’m not sure how long she is going to be tortured by memories. She’s already had the worst of the feeling removed by the twins, and still, each night at the witching hour…”

“Less you say,” Emiliana sighed. “I am unsurprised. I doubt that I could even attempt to fall asleep at all under the circumstances. Much as I might like to be under a weighted blanket, I do not like to be in an enclosed area, considering what she went through.” She shivered. “My parents used to lock me into the small powder room when I was tearing off and…well, let me just say – I understand. I think…it is not even peace you are looking for. More like certainty.”

“Either way,” Wednesday sighed. “If you can think of a blessing, a potion, or a spell that will help, I will try it.”

Emiliana wiggled her fingers, reaching for a spell book in her native language. She tried to read the contents but sighed and gave up after several minutes, flopping back dramatically on the meditative carpet, mindful of her head. “Wednesday, confessions of truth. It is getting worse.”

“What is?” She asked gently, looking at Emiliana out of the corner of her eyes.

“I am afraid…I am afraid I may be losing more skills. It is common, with a brain injury, regression, or worse, a total loss of a previously mastered skill. But you know I used to be able to at least read decently in French! Now I can hardly manage. Everything looks like squiggles.”

Frowning, Wednesday bit her lip. She really didn’t have any advice to offer. “Would you like me to read to you?”

Emiliana had the base of her palm pushing against her closed eyes. “How am I to read wedding vows if I cannot even read familiar spells?”

That was an entirely separate problem – but that one, Wednesday had a solution for. “You don’t need to read anything. You’ll speak from the heart. And – if you do prefer to have something prewritten, so you don’t slip up, I will help you memorize it. You will give Josie lovely vows, okay? Don’t worry about that.”

When Emiliana didn’t immediately respond, Wednesday frowned, stretching out on the floor beside her. “What are you worried about, if that was just a mask?”

“I feel perpetually like I burden,” Emiliana confessed. “I just do not want this marriage to be a trap for Josie to take care of me.”

Thinking about how other people probably thought that about herself and Enid – but they didn’t see just how Wednesday could show up or be there for her, because it wasn’t anyone’s business, she gave a hug to Emiliana’s shoulders. There were other people in the world who surely struggled with similar problems, but only they knew how uniquely different they were. What it was to be and love a creature of such dark, always striving for light…

Emiliana hugged her in return, and she could feel her crying. “Sometimes I want to take you and hide us away in the countryside and just forage and do potions and spells and meditations forever.”

“Josie would miss you too much, Emi,” Wednesday promised. “I was with her, when you were not. Believe me, she loves you more than you even understand. She takes care of you in different ways as one of her expressions of that love, not in spite of it. You are not a burden. It is to be without you, that is her burden. Hey,” She sat up a little, pulling her fellow Raven up. “Let’s make a peace altar, for both of us. For all we want to ask of the universe.”

“The universe does not want us to have peace, Wednesday! That is half the point of our curse, and you know it!”

“Want doesn’t always get,” Wednesday quoted the myriad of adults in her life who’d long warned her about always having things go her way. “We’ve defied the dark before, and we’ll do it again. Don’t be pessimistic.”

Emiliana sighed, looking up, then to the side. She frowned, sitting up and looking at Wednesday. “When did you become the hopeful one?”

“I had no choice, Em,” She spoke, thinking about that awful night that sent Enid screaming in the middle of almost every night since. “I had to have hope. And I’ll have hope today, for both of us if you can’t find it on your own. I’ll ask for it for you. Come, help me,” She said, closing the book. They didn’t need it. They’d do their own spell, their own way – with her intentions shining through the dark that was clouding Emiliana’s vision.

Heading out to the back porch, she lifted a small, homemade tarp (she loved the way that Emiliana made it her own, lining the silver with black, celestial fabric, and putting a clear vinyl over the top). Beneath it, she took a water carafe, willed with water that she blessed under the recent moon. Bringing it in and sitting at the altar, taking the trunk full of Emiliana’s stores and the basket from their walk, Wednesday watched as she wiped at her cheeks, but started to take out potion ingredients, her little picture labels likely coming in handier than ever.

“I am recalling, somehow,” Emiliana rolled her eyes even as the left one twitched. “Acorns, are for luck.”

She held up a jar full of those that were dried and collected likely from the fall, full to the brim. “Well, add fifteen and hope for peace, then,” Wednesday agreed simply, watching Emiliana line up three rows of five, watching her double count to be sure before setting them into a bowl. She looked at Wednesday, waiting for her to go next.

Reaching into the basket of their yield from the woods, Wednesday removed a blackthorn blossom, placing it with the acorns. “For warding off negative energy.”

Emiliana found a little bit of a smile, apparently finding her approval of Wednesday’s method, lifting a piece of bark. “The city was removing the trees with Dutch Elm disease in the winter. I took a sample, and Holly found it was actually not completely affected, so – I saved the healthy part…As Elm…um, it…helps to balance…?”

“The heart,” Wednesday finished, smiling herself, squeezing Emiliana’s hand.

“Four pieces, then – with a lucky knife. Perhaps…” She took on a serious expression, that also offered Wednesday an out. “Are you yet ready, to open my summoning chest, retrieve your own?”

Shaking her head, she made it clear – Wednesday was not ready for that. “Not yet. Perhaps, come fall – we could do a purification ritual under the harvest moon.”

“Excellent thinking. Add it to your mental calendar, then. I happen to have one…” She lifted up her hands, wandering over to the basket of tools on the tall shelf by her altar. “I once used this to so very carefully remove a hook from one of those babies over there – when Josie and I found him,” She gestured to the tank of turtles. “She says it is a lucky knife.”

She chopped her bark with even slices, tilting her head, inviting Wednesday to make the next choice.

Taking a glance through her many jars and small, homemade sinch-sacs, Wednesday found a dried, pink flower. “Hollyhock. Useful to personal growth.”

“Hm…” Emiliana’s left eye wandered for a moment before she pulled it back, blinking and reaching for a bag. “Mint – for energy. Goodness knows this grows everywhere I don’t want it to out there. I need Holly to spend some time with me,” She mumbled, dropping in seven leaves.

“Pennyroyal,” Wednesday took one from the basket. “For harmony, tranquility.”

“And finally, the liquids.” She took a basket off the shelf, putting lavender and sage oil out, before looking at Wednesday with a sigh, then – sudden watery eyes yet again. “I am so happy to have a partner in the dark to do this with.”

Wednesday gave her a half a smile before headbutting her. “Would you like to grind or smash?”

“Oh, grind, please. You,” She passed her a mallet, “Smashy girl.”

“Always,” She said gleefully, taking the acorns and elm sticks and rolling them into one of Emiliana’s homemade altar cloths, placing it all on a silicone mat and taking it outside, giving them a good few playful whacks before going to town – not letting them stand a chance against the depths of her unrestrained violence.

Once they were more into a powder, Wednesday brought the folded cloth back to Emiliana, who was grinding everything else together with a large mortar and pestle. She let Wednesday add the newly crushed ingredients and continued to grind it all together before Wednesday prepared a simple setup for their spell and blessing.

She carefully selected runes from Emiliana’s collection, placing one of her homemade shell symbols in the moon water she poured into a small simmering cauldron. “Peorth, for luck.”

Emiliana nodded, drawing three Ogham Staves, that Wednesday was sure she hadn’t used at least since the Solstice break at home with her mother. “Hm. Ironic, is it not?”

“Ura, for spiritual healing, Duir, for strength, and Sail, for balance? It sounds exactly like what we need. Put them on the meditation plane.”

Emiliana set it all up, rolling out a clean scarf, putting the three Ogham Staves in a row, placing the dry ingredients in front of them. She added six candles, a photo of Enid and Wednesday, and one of herself and Josie, then as many crystals that gave positivity that Wednesday imagined she had at the cottage. Satisfied with her spread, she crossed her legs and took Wednesday’s hand, lighting the candles with a wave of her own. “Would you like to give your intentions?”

“I acknowledge, the break in traumatic events that we are presently being allowed – from the universe. I express, my gratitude for it – as I am not sure how we could have continued to cope. But – the ramifications of all that took place, continue to haunt us. I implore, peace – positivity – light. I must be able to be more present and grounded, I must be able to provide comfort to my beloved who needs me most at the current time. Em?”

“I recognize,” She could hear her swallow, “My privilege in position, in wealth, in relative health. But I also feel a sense of futility – that I am not able to give enough to my own beloved, and that I am taking more. I implore – peace, positivity – light. I ask for these things to be stable. I must be able to give as much of myself as is given to me.”

Feeling their intentions were matched, Wednesday spoke in verse, letting a natural sense of rhythm and rhyme take over.

I seek both light and peace, I request that this darkness cease. I need a positive force that can bring Something good to this endless spring. I require a flame from the eternal fire, To help me be a healer and inspire. I ask this, for the only one I adore - Grant us peace, forevermore.

Emiliana spoke a familiar blessing in French, and Wednesday smiled at her as she finished, pouring their dry ingredients into the pot, while Emiliana added the oils. They stirred together, focused on intentions, before Emiliana lit the flame in the fireplace and put the small cauldron on her hook. Cleaning up just a little bit from the spell – it wasn’t a terrible mess, they passed the time while waiting for the potion to brew, about three hours.

Not realizing how much time had passed, Wednesday felt her cheeks heat up when her mother opened the cottage door with Enid, finding Emiliana and Wednesday in the middle of a very dramatic tarot reading for her Beanie Babies. Enid managed to take a picture before suggesting they head home as it was going on her late snack and bedtime, and she wasn’t one to skip her routines.

Feeling just a little bit irritated that she wouldn’t be able to see the potion through to the end, Wednesday let Emiliana scoot both members of the party out to the front porch before she located Augustus from where he’d been antagonizing her own snake, putting the boy around Wednesday’s shoulders, and tugging her close. “I will mind the potion and bring it to you tomorrow morning with an appropriate color tie and charm.”

She hugged her in return, feeling a strange pit of emotion as she held onto Emiliana’s thin frame. She turned her cheek against her bony collarbone, looking to the side, staring at the fire. Wednesday knew her intentions were clear when creating the potion, but…she wasn’t so sure if it would hold up or prove effective.

As Emiliana embraced her long, it seemed like…sometimes – that homespun magic was all an illusion; the potions and spells sometimes felt like nothing more than a placebo effect. Perhaps it really was, and the magic of it all was belief and pluck and –

“You are thinking over, little bird.”

“I know,” She whispered, still clutching onto her.

“You have proved, time and again – you are very strong, very powerful.”

“At a cost. I don’t think that potion will cause anyone to be hospitalized.”

Emiliana’s fingers tangled under her braids as she pulled her back to look her in the eye. Her left one was twitching like it wanted to be shut for the night. “Do not estimate under the power you have,” Emiliana warned.

Nodding – not sure how to do that, but knowing Emiliana’s misused idioms were wise, she accepted her obnoxious kisses to her cheeks before taking her backpack and the Beanie Baby blackbird and scorpion from the floor, tucking them inside, seeing all the missed messages on her phone that had caused her girlfriend and mother to have to walk over to collect her. Giving a wave to Emiliana, Wednesday accepted next her mother’s hand to her shoulder before letting Enid envelop her in a warm greeting.

“Sorry for interrupting your Beanie Baby tarot reading. That looked really fun! Did you get anything good out of it?”

Wednesday hid a dramatic sigh, contemplating on the fairly neutral cards she’d drawn that night. “Nothing life-changing, for the better or worse.”

“Well, we’ll take that, too,” Enid let go and slipped her fingers between Wednesday’s, practically skipping along the solar-powered little garden lights that illuminated the path from Emiliana’s cottage to the Addams house.

Wednesday had made a potion to give her hope that night. The irony of it was – the only reason who’d ever given her any reason to chance that sensation in the first place, despite her chipper-looking demeanor on the trail, was the very reason she needed it, and would likely be hysterical in just six hours.

Trying not to think over as they made it home, ate her usual pre-bed snack and followed her established routine with Enid, Wednesday tucked in beside her. Enid was cuddled on top of her chest like usual, obviously exhausted from her day – and had slipped to sleep in minutes.

She’d sought out Emiliana for the very same reason that her fellow Raven had spoken the quiet part out loud – when she struggled with her reading. Sometimes – the weight of the dark, even if there was no vision, no promise of horror from the universe, was simply too much. To be understood in a way that such a microscopic percentage of Outcasts had ever truly been cursed…

There was a light from the nightstand an hour and a half later as Wednesday wanted to take her mother’s sleeping potion, but also didn’t want to be too out of it when Enid woke up in short time. Reaching for her phone, she examined the picture Emiliana sent; her potion was in a small bottle, with white-dipped twine, tied around the neck, a small bird charm of promise adhered in wax. There was no text attached to it, just the picture of the potion.

It looked beautiful in the light of the still-burning candles and Wednesday sighed, putting it back, adjusting herself around Enid’s sleeping form as she rolled onto her side with a snore. She considered the poem she’d spoken in verse over the potion, willing the universe to grant her a few hours of peace before she’d be woken up to provide it to her traumatized girlfriend.

#fanfic #wednesday 2022 #Chaos for the Fly #layla's >5k challenge #OC: Emiliana Zypher #CftF One-Shots

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valeriele3 · 3 months

Text

Fever Dream

Multiple Fandoms x GN!Reader Characters: Mao Isara, Trey Clover, Kaedehara Kazuha, Shikanoin Heizou, Ritsu Sakuma Warnings: Besides cringe and bad grammar, nothing

This is currently incomplete and only contains Mao! I will edit in the other parts when it releases. I’m so sorry for the wrong tags

There you lay on your bed, tired and quite clearly sick.

You felt utterly terrible, but it'll all go away with a bit of sleep, right?

And so, that's what you did. You close your eyes and let the oncoming sleepiness take you to dreamland.

While sleeping, you sense a figure looming over you.

Which you would normally ignore had you been staying at your parents' house, but guess what? You weren't there right now. You were currently staying at your apartment, which you certainly didn't share with anyone.

Quickly stirring awake, you grab the lapel of the intruder's clothes, put your arm near the armpit, and throw them over.

You were about to bash their head in with the nearby book you had, but you paused when you heard them groan in pain.

'That voice sounds familiar..' you thought, and upon looking much closer to the intruder, you see Mao Isara on the ground.

Hold up, MAO ISARA?!?! THAT MAO ISARA?!?

That didn't make any sense; Mao wasn't real; he's a fictional character!

'What if he's a robber in a cosplay!?' The thought was absurd, but hey, the current situation itself was absurd.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the sudden voice that entered the space.

"Oww..What'd you hit me for..? That hurt" The robber cosplayer mumbled

You observed the man once more and finally noticed how your surroundings were different.

This room wasn't your bedroom; hell, this place wasn't even your apartment!

So that means that this intruder didn't just invade your home but also kidnapped you while you were asleep!

"-ello? Y/N? Are you alright?"

"You aren't sick, are you?" The man puts the back of his palm to your forehead.

"Geez! You're burning up! C'mon, let's get you to your room." The man hurriedly ushers you to what you now presume to be your bedroom.

Why did you just let the man basically drag you to your "bedroom" without putting up a fight? You honestly don't know yourself, but what you do know is that you're feeling ill. Very ill

After laying you down, the man rushed to get some medicine and, apparently, soup.

Hearing the bedroom door shut seemed to shake you out of your stupor.

You then begin to assess the situation.

'Alright, so the last thing I remember doing is falling asleep in bed. Then I suddenly awoke in this mysterious house. apartment? dorm? and, uh, a weird kidnapper who likes to cosplay."

‘I could probably escape through the window, but seeing how high up this place is, I would definitely break my legs, which isn’t ideal if I want to escape. The front door is out of the question too; I don’t even know the layout of this place, and it could be locked, hello neighbor basement door style.”

After realizing that you were basically not figuring anything out, you decide to look around the room.

The bedside table had a lamp, a clock, a picture frame, and a tumbler filled with cold water inside.

The walls were painted in f/c, and the decor was something you had only dreamt of having. Things that you wanted to buy but couldn't because of your budget.

'Let's see... a closet full of clothes that are quite fashionable, if I do say so myself." These clothes were definitely your size and fit your personal tastes. It seems the kidnapper did his research.

'Wait a minute. Did I just see a picture frame earlier? 'You quickly look around the room once more until your eyes land on the frame placed atop the bedside table.

You quickly grab it, and to your surprise, there in the frame was a picture of you with Ritsu Sakuma and Mao Isara. Two of your favorite characters in the game Ensemble Stars

Hooray! It looks like you got isekai’d in an alternate universe where you live in the Enstars world.

A knock on the door catches your attention.

It seems that Mao finished making the soup.

“Ahem..Come in! ”

The door swings open, revealing the maroon-haired man holding a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a pack of medicine.

“Here. Eat it while it’s still hot.” He places the items on your nightstand.

Still refusing to believe you got isekai’d in the Enstars world..you suspiciously look at the soup.

“Why’re you just staring at it? ”

“C’mere, sit.” He forces you to sit on the bed and grabs your ✨✨epic gamer chair✨✨.

He grabs the spoon and scoops out some soup, then blows on it to cool it down.

He then puts the spoon near your lips, signaling you to open them.

It seems that Mao Isara will be spoon-feeding you today. That’s one thing you never expected to happen.

“I’m not hungry, I—” Like a cliche scene in some drama or anime, your stomach growls, betraying what you had just said.

“Pfft.” He struggles to stop his laughter, but it soon fails, leading him to burst out in laughter.

He scoops some up again, cools it down, and puts it on your lips. This time, you allow yourself to open your mouth and swallow the soup.

He chuckles,

“What? Why’re you laughing?? ”

“It’s just... it really boosts my confidence whenever you eat my cooking, y’know? That sparkle in your eyes tells me that you enjoy it.”

“W-Well, it is delicious..So..ugh..just feed me more, please..I’m hungry.”

Mao chuckles, “Alright~ say ahh~”

You close your eyes and open your mouth

When you reopen them again, instead of “your room” and Mao in front of you you’re greeted with the sight of Trey Clover spoon feeding you

“Hm? What’s wrong? Is it still too hot?” He blows on the soup before attempting to spoon feed it to you again

“T-Trey?!!”

“Yes?”

“You’re Trey, like..Trey Clover!?”

“Uhm, yes, that’s me. Trey Clover” He seems surprised by your sudden change of..Mood? You assume

Part 1 ends here! Other parts will hopefully be released soon <3

.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^

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lietomevpr · 1 month

Text

just keep swimming - ART DONALDSON! short blurb

description- ever since y/n moved in to a new house with a pool, the caretaking of the pool started to take a toll on their schedule and something had to change. their pool company offers to send a pool boy out for maintenance. unfortunately for y/n, he’s blonde and SUCH a charmer. a universe where art probably never went to summer tennis tournaments and instead was a gorgeous pool boy!

warnings- 18+ (vulgar language) but really just so much flirting!! i'll decide later if I want to write smut if you all like this so far :)

•*• *•* •*• *•* •*• *•* •*• *•* •*• *•* *•* •*•

Summer came around again like clockwork. I can tell by the way the sun torches the pavement and the bugs fly around you no matter where you are. I had just moved in about half a year ago, and unpacking has been slow. Usually my Saturday afternoons are for cleaning and organizing, and even clad in shorts and a tee shirt with my hair tied up, I was still sweating. On my pathway to the kitchen, I pass my sliding door window out to the backyard. All I see is my covered up, likely hideous underneath, swimming pool. Annoyance etched my features. I've been avoiding the pool because I just got a new job as well and my schedule has been busier than I ever imagined it being. The idea of chopping off the time to take care of the pool myself this summer seemed like such a hassle. Setting my laundry basket down with a plop, I look up the nearest pool service company and give them a quick call. The representative assured me they’d send out one or two “fellas” out tomorrow, as the gruff old man told me during our conversation. I’ve been swimming all my life. My parents taught me to swim really young, and I continued competitively throughout college. I am as much fish as I am human. It was only natural that when I searched for my own place at 25, I wanted a pool to continue my love for the activity. However, the relief that flew through me when the call was finished was enough to allow me to move to the next room to clean.

THE NEXT DAY was somehow even hotter, if it was possible. Once showered and dressed for the days events, I was making my lunch and watching my comfort show when there was a knock on the door.

“Oh great, those must be the pool cleaners", I thought to myself.

Giving a quick glance at my appearance, I was satisfied with opening the door. Smooth, shaved legs, blue denim shorts, and a yellow tank top with sandals seemed to be appropriate for guests in the back yard to me. Upon opening the door, there are two older aged gentleman a decade or so older than me.

“Hello Ma'am! We’re Marcus and Devin and uh…”

One turns around with eyes squinted from the sun and gestures back to the service van where there is a figure messing around in the trunk with heavy equipment or something.

“That’s Art back there in the van, new intern.” Says Marcus, who I now can see the name tag of.

“Well alrighty! Thanks so much for coming, let me show you out back and assess the damage.” I take them out through the side yard and show them the monstrosity of a chore I've been putting off.

The two gentleman eventually wrestle the pool cover off and look around to see what needs to be done. They're talking amongst themselves, and hopefully it's not too much of a big project. Having an in ground pool was a luxury and I knew it. Thats why I was so appreciative of them coming out. They told me in general how much it was gonna cost, and said they’re ready to start whenever the intern made his way on over.

“Well I will leave you guys to it, knock if you need anything! In a hour or so I might bring out some lemonade for you all, it’s so hot!” I say, shooting them a smile. They beam appreciatively and I set for inside.

Busying myself while people were making loud, machine sounds in my back yard was harder than I thought. I liked to watch it all get done. But in general, watching people out of the window was frowned upon. After I finished eating my sandwich, I decided the best use of my time would be to just veg out in the living room. After roughly three or four episodes of a show pass, I figure it's time to make my signature lemonade and bring it out to them. These gentleman won't know what hit them. I've been complimented on my lemonade recipe before, so I was excited to see the final opinion. Setting four glasses on a wooden tray, I make my way out of the front door and around the side yard, as to not walk right up into their space by using the sliding door. I don't get very far into my backyard before I almost drop the tray of lemonade because I collided abruptly with a body. A warm one. Pool company shirt drenched in sweat, I looked up at the figure obstructing my path. I was met with someone roughly around my age, maybe a year or two younger. A simply gorgeous man, one of paler complexion, but sporting a full, fluffy head of blonde hair. So bright it makes the sun look like a dying flashlight. His eyes were so breathtaking and his lips looked so soft and pink, he was a sight to be had. When he smiled at me before he opened his mouth to apologize, that was even brighter. I step back and laugh sheepishly.

"I am so sorry!" That barely gets out out my mouth because this beautiful pool man standing before me says,

"Holy shit, I am so sorry are you okay?".

He backs up, and gives me a once over. Something that was probably just him making sure I wasn't hurt or covered in ice cold lemonade. But the once over brought out some sort of stirring in me, and I questioned if my outfit was actually okay or not because now it mattered that the man in front of me liked what he saw. The genuine concern in his voice was refreshing to hear though, so I recover from the initial embarrassment.

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s alright! I'm Y/N, Y/L/N, I own the place.” My cheeks blush because now I’ve bumped into the most beautiful man and he’s here to clean my pool. It almost looks like he smirks at my coloration. But it could've been the sun's glare playing tricks on me.

“Lovely pool you got out there ma’am. And yard too while we’re at it.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead with his forearm and sticks that same arm out to shake. Watching a sweaty hardworking man was one of my favorite past times, and the fact that he used the same hand made me insanely hot in the face. His hands in mine feel firm, but respectful.

“I’m... uh, Art Donaldson, by the way. Im the…”

“The intern?” I tease.

He gives a look of panic when he whips his head around and shouts to his older crew mates.

“I told you guys to stop introducing me like that!”

I can hear deep chuckling somewhere in my backyard and I smile at the interaction between the three gentlemen. Art spins back around to me, laughs, and rolls his eyes.

“Sorry about those guys. They mean well of course. I think they’re just jealous of my amazing pool skills. What I was going to say, is that I’m the person who’s going to be doing routine checks once we clean it out completely. Every three weeks I come back without my two friends over there, and I deep clean and treat the water. Or more often, if you want to upgrade your plan. ”

These words weighed on me. This man would be in my back yard by himself and I had the option to make it more often? I would be lying if I said I wasn’t considering it. But having him around so often would be a personal distraction right?

“Well thanks for being my pool cleaner I really appreciate it. I love to swim but I’ve just been so busy lately and I haven’t had the time to maintain it.” I tell the guy, hopefully not looking as upset as I really feel. He looks at me in a way I can’t decipher.

“Don’t worry about it you did the right thing calling us.” He says, offering a stunning smile. Not sure where to go from there, his eyes shoot anywhere but mine it seems, and lands on the lemonade tray in my hand.

“Oh my god please tell me that is for us I am sweating like a dog out here.”

He leans his head over and shakes his blonde curly hair that I am already fond of and I watch as the droplets drip down on my patio brick. My throat hitches at the strange sexiness of the action and I awkwardly cough it out and hand him a glass.

“My speciality! Enjoy.”

He basically chugs it and leaves a cliche and comical "Ahh", after the sip.

"Thank you, it's amazing", he says out of breath from the gigantic sip he took and grins.

"It's just so hot out here ya know?", he spoke softly, lolling his head to the side and glancing up and down at me with a smile that punched me in the gut. Whether he's talking about me or the weather was really up to debate with the look he gave me.

Art looks down at his lemonade, and back at me. Well, back at my tits it feels like.

"Matches your tank top", he says nonchalantly

Then Art grabs the tray from my hands, something I wasn't expecting. When the exchange happens, our fingers brush over one another's. We snap our heads up at the same time and look at each other. The electric jolt of his touch and the comment about my choice in clothing made my brain spin. He smiled to himself, like I wasn't supposed to see that one.

"Let me take these to them for you. See you around Y/N." He turns around but doesn't get far before shouting,

"LEMONADE! GET YOUR FRESH LEMONADE!"

I spin around to go back inside but not before laughing at this energetic, and playful man romping around my yard to give his coworkers my lemonade.

An hour goes by and now that I know what Art looks like, the itch to look out the window was increasingly difficult to resist. Eventually I cave and pull back the curtains slightly and look down at the back yard from my bedroom window and see them out there, standing on the perimeter of the hollow ground. They're almost finished actually, just about ready to turn the water pump on if I had any guess. I spot Art easily, and watch as he lifts up a heavy trailer cart of material away from the pool and to what I assume is the front yard to take to the van. He stops his trek and drops his cart and though I can't hear him too well from the upper floor, it seems as if he lets out an expletive.

"FUCK it's hot." It sounds like.

In a matter of milliseconds, Art's company shirt gets tore off and all that's left is a devastatingly handsome body, covered in sweat from working in the conditions. He looks like can use a dip in the pool himself he's so hot. Nothing could've prepared me for seeing him shirtless in my back yard, but yet here we were. It was bordering on ogling at this point, but the abs to blonde hair ratio nearly made me collapse. I guess I picked the right time to do this because Art looks up at the window AS IF he knew I was watching. His face brightens up at the sight of me, sees where my eyes landed and smiles to himself. Then waves to me with the shirt in hand and I wave shyly back and watch the man return to his journey with the cart of heavy things. I start to tear my eyes away from the window and retreat, pretending I wasn't checking out the man who will be cleaning my pool for the next short while. But not before noticing a boyish smirk placed on his lips as he turns out of vision. Having a beautiful pool boy in my yard was going to be a lot harder than I think I would ever anticipate.

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let me know what you guys think! i wrote it for fluffy long hair art but the gif i chose matched the hot summer day and sweat aspect of this blurb.

•*• *•* •*• *•* •*• *•* •*• *•* •*• *•* *•* •*•

lietomevpr

#art donaldson #mike faist #challengers #challengers movie #art #josh oconnor #zendaya #art donaldson fic #mike faist you are beautiful #team art

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cupoftaae · 1 year

Note

Heyy! Love your work💜 Could you maybe write something fluffy, where tae is y/n’s comfort and she goes to him after a bad day🫶🏻

Hello there! AW, thank you for reading!

Fluffy taehyung is my weakness, I hope you enjoy anon :)

warnings- mentions of weed, swearing. Soft taehyung needs his own warnings tbh. also this takes place as if they were both like, 19-20 ish ....KIND OF FRIENDS TO LOVERS LOWKEY

wanna build a pillow fort? -KTH drabble

you werent sure how you had landed in this position in the first place, but here you were, sitting in the living room while your parents explained to you that...well...the college you had been praying to get into one day had declined you.

"are you sure?" you whispered, watching your dad show you the letter. You sighed, trying to hold back any signs of emotion. You had taken a gap year between graduating high school to now, just to grasp your bearings. You put all your energy into working and getting into school, but the universe had other plans.

"I know you wanted this so badly, y/n, im sorry" your mother sat down next to you. "What am I gonna do? I had no backup plan..." your face falls into your hands. "your so young, you have time. you can also sign up to take classes, you dont need to be a student" your mom adds.

"but I wanna be a student, thats the whole point."

"listen, I know this is stressful, but just go get some rest and maybe we can figure out a new plan tomorrow? ok?" your father stands up, looking at you sadly.

You shrugged, knowing that they were just trying to help, but there was no way out of this, you were fucking upset.

Once you had gotten into your room, slamming your door shut, you collapsed onto your bed and took 5 deep breathes, you didnt want to cry. You were a big girl now and crying over school was dumb. You just wanted to be with someone right now, and your best friend was 3 streets over, making things difficult.

You could invite him over, but your father wasnt too pleased to see him late at night the last time he was here. He had walked in and alerted your dog, making him bark until your parents came downstairs, freaked out. They also just dont like the idea of a boy being in your room, despite the fact you are 19, and have been friends with taehyung since you were little....there were absolutely no feelings like that showing up... at least thats what you chose to believe.

You quickly texted him just to see if he was even up to hang.

You: wyd

Tae: making ramen, wbu?

you smiled and chose to ignore his message, making the quick decision to grab your jacket and sneak out your window. Youve only done this one other time, and it was when you had covid and your friend Vanessa dropped off chipotle outside on your side of the house for you.

You prayed to God that your parents had no installed cameras, because one, you didnt want to get caught, and two, you fell on your ass on the way out. "Jesus christ" you scoff, getting up and making a dash to taehyungs house in the dark.

Taehyung was standing in the kitchen and dancing to music with his dog, making his little paws move according to the choreography. "Why are you making food so late?" Taehyungs mother spoke, coming into the room to fill up her tea. "because its friday.." he mumbled, mouth full of noodles.

"Okay" she laughed and shook her head, "just clean up, yeah? oh, an-"

his mother was cut off by the front door being knocked on, "who is here at this hour?" she whispered, walking over to look through the peep hole. She sarcastically looked back at taehyung, "why is y/n on my front step?" she smirked.

"she is??" he walked over to the door.

"you know if you wanted to plan a date, I could have made real food for you guys"

"mom stop" he shyly shushed her before opening the door.

"hello" you mumble, bowing at the presence of his mother.

"Hey, y/n...is everything alright?" he asks, his mother gently pulling you inside. "its almost 11 dear" she spoke.

"Im ok, Im just needing some time out of my house, I hope im not intruding?"

"oh no, no, sweetie youre good" she smiled and closed the door.

Taehyung hugged you and glanced at his mom

"i'll be upstairs if you need anything" she spoke, grabbing her tea and walking upstairs before yelling "Be good, just not too good"

He laughed and pulled away to look at you. "Not that I mind your presence, but...why are you here?"

you giggled as he took your coat and hung it up. "well....I uhm" you looked around before sitting on the edge of the couch. "I didnt get in" you shrugged, forced smile on your face.

"hm? what are you talking about?" he stands in front of you

"I received a letter in the mail today from HUFS, and it was declining my application" you speak softly, watching him frown.

"y/n...Im so sorry"

"its okay, its just a lot, but i'll be fine."

He kneeled in front of you and held your hands, "you know...its okay to be sad, right?" he whispers, "that was your dream school.."

you nodded, wanting to sink into the floor the moment you felt tears prickling your eyes. "I know, but...something new will come. I just really wanted to be like you, in school and working towards my degree already, you know?" you shrug.

he nods, "I know, but.." he squeezed your hands, "life isnt a competition, we all do things when the universe pulls us in that direction. Its ok this didnt work out, maybe it was for the best. I know you, y/n, and whatever you do in life is going to be fucking amazing, no doubt about it. So be sad, mourn what you will miss, but dont let it hold you back."

you nodded as tears escaped your eyes, small cries falling from your lips as he immediately held you up and wrapped you into his arms. "Its okay....I promise" he coo'd, hand brushing your hair as you finally let yourself feel upset.

"thank you" you sniff, wiping your eyes as you hold him.

"cmon, lets go eat junkfood and build a fort" he squeezed your waist, making you blush slightly as you followed him to the kitchen. "a fort?" you asked, eyes still wet.

"mhm, with like the pillows and stuff" he spoke, taking another bite of noodles.

you giggle, "ok"

You two sat under a giant pillow fort, with a blanket over the head for the roof. "I have to say, your pillow fort making skills have improved. Remember when we were little and it would always collapse on us?" you snorted, nudging him.

"I have improved and grown in many ways, trust the process of time" he joked, taking a bite of the chip in his hand.

He definitely had grown and improved, taking a moment to look over his face proves the fact that Taehyung had matured quite nicely at that.

"dont stare its rude" he teased, finding something to watch on youtube.

You shake your head, "sorry" you lean over to lay beside him so you can see the screen of his laptop.

"Your parents wont like...kill me...if they find out you spent the night, right?"

you giggle, "am I spending the night?"

"well, you dont have to, I just assumed because its already 1am and its not safe for you to be out and about"

you shook your head, "what? so I dont have what it takes to fight off street hagglers?"

"oh you do, Im keeping you off the street for their safety" he spoke seriously, making you laugh.

"mm, and no, my parents arent gonna do anything, I dont think....maybe.....you know what? I dont know"

"oh that makes me feel good" he fake pouts

"Im teasing, im 19 and they need to get over keeping me locked up all the time..." you play with the fabric of the blanket.

"I think your dad hates me, dude" he sighed, shutting his laptop and leaving you both to lay in the dark as you looked up at the green blanket roof.

"shut up, he does not"

"He told me that he didnt want me showing up there anymore"

"thats because it was 4am and you scared the dog, I told you to come in through the window you fucking dumbass" you joked, "he also caught you with weed, so there you go"

"hm, fair I guess" he sighed

"he doesnt hate you I promise" you turned on your side to face him, not realizing how close your faces were.

He turned his head, noses barley touching as you both looked over each others faces in the dark.

"are you feeling better?" he whispered

"yeah...yeah I am" you mumbled, wanting to pull away but also choosing to stay put.

"good" he smiled and turned his body so it was also laying on his side, facing you.

"Y/n?" he asked

"yeah?"

"is it ok if I kiss you?"

you felt your hear stop in your chest, what did he just ask you?

"w-what?" you look at him, eyes wide

"I asked if I could kiss you?" he repeated, voice so soft and quiet. "its ok to say no" he added.

you took a breath, realizing that in moments like this, you really have to be honest with yourself and stop saying you aren't attracted to him, because here he is, in front of you, asking to kiss after taking his time to make you feel better. You can only hold on to your discipline so much before you fold.

"yeah...yeah you can kiss me, tae" you exhale, shocked the words even came from your mouth.

His large hand came up to hold your face delicately, thumb brushing your skin as you both leaned in slowly until each others lips clashed. The feeling felt a lot more natural than you anticipated, it wasn't weird, or awkward or cringe, it felt....right?

If tae's plan was to make you fully forget about that college letter, than goal achieved.

You knew you both would have to talk about this later, at some other time when your mouths weren't attached to each other, but for now all you wanted to do was be thankful for him.

you gently pulled back and giggled like a little girl, a blush creeping over your face as he pulled you against his chest. There were no words or jokes, you both simply laid together before eventually falling asleep in each others embrace.

Maybe he was right about better things coming, and maybe this was it.

A/N- this was so cute I was kicking my feet and giggling while writing, we all need our own taehyung.

#taehyung smut #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #bangtan #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts #bts x reader #bts smut #tae fic #tae smut #tae fluff #tae drabble #tae x reader #taehyung drabble

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labellefleur-sauvage · 1 year

Text

Heat Above

In the sudden uncertainty of her life, Elain Archeron seeks comfort in an unlikely source: her mate Lucien.

For Elucien Week 2023 Day 1: Mates

The specifics of Elain's visions don't exactly seem well-described in the books, so I'm interpreting her visions (and how the end of ACOSF could affect them) and their potential ties to Lucien here. I like to imagine that Elain's visions will guide her towards her mate, and I wanted to try writing something in the ACOTAR universe for my favorite pairing, so here we are!

Thank you for everyone @elucienweekofficial for organizing this event!

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 3.9K

Read on A03

XXX

In the span of a day, both of her sisters nearly died.

And there was nothing Elain Archeron could do to save either of them.

It all worked out in the end, they each soothed her. Nesta triumphed over those wanting to destroy her and became a Valkyrie, a living legend and feared warrior even the Illyrians idolized. Feyre survived the birthing bed—how, exactly, no one deigned to explain to her - and introduced her son Nyx to her family, everyone weeping joyously.

Everyone was safe. Everyone was fine.

And Elain’s visions had been out of control ever since.

It was as if a momentous shift occurred, like something—or someone—had altered the preordained fates the Mother lovingly crafted for each and every Fae and set everyone a new, uncertain future.

Her visions had never been regular or clear, but now they were chaotic and overwhelming. Death, blood, war, grief, terror and interlopers, interspersed with breathtaking happiness that Elain felt with her entire being: family dinners, Solstice celebrations, walks in unknown meadows, tending a garden on a bright, green hill, and holding hands with a foreign yet familiar male with flaming red hair.

That red-haired male was a frequent guest in her visions now, for whatever reason. Nearly every day she saw a glimpse of him, sometimes alone—his handsome face wreathed in sunlight, an open window behind him, a contemplative look on his face—or with someone she quickly realized was herself, such as when she saw him kissing down, down, down her body…

Elain shut her eyes. It was just like when she had been newly turned and her visions were constant, to the point where she didn’t know what was the present and what was the future, what was real and what wasn’t.

It was all too much, yet not enough. Elain wanted to turn her brain off, to have no thoughts at all, yet she craved more, needed to know what may happen.

She was alone, yet surrounded by people. There was no one who could help her.

Except one.

There must be a reason he kept appearing in her visions.

Elain leapt up from her bed and hurriedly dressed. She hoped he still kept his apartment by the river.

“Oh, hello Elain,” Feyre called quietly from the couch in the living room downstairs. Rhys was on the ground next to Nyx, swooping a toy bat over his head. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just for a walk,” she called, gathering her shoes.

“Would you like some company? Nyx is due for a nap, and a trip in the stroller—“

“No!” Elain yelped so loudly even Rhys raised a surprised eyebrow at her. “Er, thank you, but it’s just something I need to do by myself.”

Elain let herself out of the River House with Feyre and Rhys’s gentle murmurs behind her, then made her way into Velaris. She didn’t actually know where he stayed or if he spent his time with someone else.

No, she thought resoundingly, turning down a sleepy street lined with attractive apartments, Elain knew her mate hadn’t been with anyone since that horrible day in Hybern.

She stood in front of a clean and unassuming building. Something told her this was it. But how to get in? She was just about to knock on the front door of the building and hope someone would let her in when the door opened and she saw Lucien for the first time in months.

“Elain?”

He looked good. Handsome, clean, and put together in a deep green jacket and brown pants. Two small sections of hair were braided at his temples.

Elain wondered if he would ever braid her hair, if she asked.

“Elain?” Lucien asked again, confusion and concern flooding his voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Elain said, remembering herself and why she was here. “I came to see you.”

Lucien paled. “I see. Would this be better handled inside?”

“Hm. Yes, I think that would be for the best.”

Without a word, Lucien opened the door and led her up a series of staircases to an apartment on the top floor. Like everything about Lucien, it was clean and quietly elegant and put together: soft curtains fluttered on either side of the windows thrown open wide to let the cool breeze in, and several tasteful chairs were arranged around a low table in the middle of the room. A simple kitchen was in the corner, and a closed door was on the opposite side of the room.

Lucien sighed. “Are you here to break the bond?”

Elain looked startled. Why would he assume that?

True, Elain had been ignoring her mate for years now, too frightened to belong heart, body and soul to any one being. After Graysen, after Azriel, after her entire world upended when she was pushed into the Cauldron, Elain couldn’t bear the thought of having another supposed constant in her life turn away from her.

But to permanently sever ties with Lucien, especially now when her visions were pointing him towards her, left an empty, hollow feeling in her stomach.

“I—no, I’m not here to break the bond,” Elain replied. Lucien let out a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “I’m here to ask you why I keep seeing you.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed. “Seeing me? I haven’t seen you in months.”

“No, not like that,” Elain said with a slight roll of her eyes. “I see you. Constantly. In my visions.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “And there must be a reason,” Elain went on. “I see you in my mind everyday, without fail, between my… other visions.” Elain winced. “But the only good visions—if that’s what they really are, and not just some type of hallucination—only feature you. And I want to know why.”

Silence greeted her. “You came to see me,” Lucien said slowly, an eyebrow still raised, “to ask me why I keep appearing in your visions?”

Elain flushed. When he said it that way…

“I thought you previously said you couldn’t control your visions. How would I have any control over something you can’t?”

Elain bit her lip. He was completely right—there really was no good reason for her to have come here, to see Lucien and demand answers for something he had nothing to do with. But some part of herself knew Lucien was connected to her sudden violent visions—why else would she have visions of him constantly, and feel the urge to see him now, if he couldn’t help her?

“I—I thought—“

“I’m sorry Elain,” Lucien said quietly. “I don’t know if I can help you.” He looked away, a pained look on his face. “Would you like me to escort you home?”

Elain furrowed her brows. “You want me to leave?”

Lucien raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I just told you I don’t know how to help you. You ignore me for months when I give you gifts and space—I imagine you can’t stand to be in my presence since I told you something you didn’t want to hear.”

Elain glared at him. “Don’t assume to know what I want.”

“You’re right. I can’t assume to know anything about you, because every time I’ve tried, you’ve ignored me like a coward,” Lucien replied coolly.

“I’m not a coward!” Elain hissed, her cheeks turning hot.

Lucien chuckled unkindly. “I bet that’s all you’ve ever been. Hiding behind your sisters, using them as shields so you don’t have to confront anything in your life that bothers you.”

Elain grit her teeth, unable to deny Lucien. Why did she think he would help her, even if he could? Lucien probably detested her, loathed her for everything she’d put him through, and she couldn’t even blame him.

“Even if I were somehow able to help you,” Lucien went on, putting distance between the two of them, “who’s to say you’d do anything but ignore me after I somehow banished myself from your visions?” Lucien leaned against a kitchen counter, directly in front of a wide window, the morning sunlight streaming in and bathing him in light. “At least this way, I can find comfort in the fact that I’m on your mind in some capacity.”

Elain sucked in a breath. It was identical to her prior vision: Lucien, surrounded in sunlight, his red hair gleaming. His golden mechanical eye paled in comparison to the glow he gave off now. The anger and frustration she felt for the male in front of her faded away.

If this vision was true, what about the rest of them? Danger and sadness, but also eventual joy and happiness. Could one be had without the other? Was it worth risking everything to find out?

“You’ve been so cold to me for so long,” Lucien went on, ignoring how Elain was looking at him. “You ignored me, tossed me aside—“

“You’re my mate,” Elain breathed, and everything suddenly clicked in her mind. Yes, it was inevitable that there would be death and grief and bone crushing sadness in her life. They had been ever present in her life before she was turned, when she was human, and those emotions would be with her, in some way, shape or form, in her current life. The only difference was that now she had someone to weather the storm with her, and make her remember that happiness was always worth the sadness.

“What did you say?” Lucien asked quietly, looking at her.

“You’re my mate.” The more she said it, the better it felt, settling in her body and cementing her to the present. “You’re my mate. There’s only you.”

Lucien stared at her. The only sound in the room was his mechanical eye, ticking and moving faster than Elain could track.

“Don’t say things you don’t understand,” Lucien said quietly, staring at the ground. “To say that to me, it’s, it’s…”

“Admitting what we both knew and have been avoiding?”

Lucien took a deep, steadying breath. “How do I know this is real?” Lucien jerked his head to look at Elain. His eye was wide and Elain could hear the fast beating of his heart. “How can I tell if this is what you want?”

Elain cocked her head, staring at the open vulnerability sketched on her mate’s handsome face. “Because I’ve seen my future. I thought it couldn’t be real, that some things must be wrong, but…”

“But? But what?”

“They’re all real,” Elain said quietly. “Horrible, horrible, things, coming soon and also later, but great things as well. Happiness, a family—all with you.”

Lucien’s eye widened. “You’ve seen that? Us? Together?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not saying this because of what you’ve seen? You still have a choice in your future.”

She did, and her own heart sped up to match Lucien’s at the tenderness in his tone. Even now, he wanted Elain to have a choice, and wanted Elain to choose him.

“I think my visions have been urging me towards you for a long time. They know what I’ve been too afraid to admit.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I could be happy with you. That I will be happy with you.”

Lucien swallowed but didn’t move towards her, a wary look on his face. From what she’d heard about her mate from Feyre and Rhys, Lucien was never short on words, but his silence hung over their heads in the room.

Elain had already taken the first metaphorical step towards healing her relationship with Lucien—what were a few physical steps to convince him of her words?

Walking towards Lucien like he was a frightened animal, Elain stopped right in front of him. His heart was still beating fast—nerves, excitement, anticipation, she couldn’t be sure.

“I still hear your heart.” Elain took one of Lucien’s large hands in hers—he was so warm—and held it against her chest, over her own stuttering heart. “Do you hear mine?”

Lucien gasped, his eye wide and mouth open as if he could finally hear the constant drumming of his mate’s heart, like Elain had heard ever since she emerged from the Cauldron. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but she swore she saw some type of shimmering cord wrap around Lucien’s hand from where it connected with her chest and traveled along his arm—

Elain lost sight of the cord entwining them together when Lucien leaned down and kissed her, consuming her mind, body and soul.

It was blissfully silent in her mind for just a moment before a wave of images flashed before her eyelids, one after another after another, too fast for her to comprehend. It was like a lifetime’s worth of visions being crammed into the space of a few seconds and Elain gasped, overwhelmed with everything—

“Elain, what’s wrong? Breath, breath for me.”

And just as soon as they appeared, her visions fled at the first touch of Lucien’s touch, one hand on the back of her head, another on her lower back and rubbing soothing circles against her with his thumb.

“There, that’s better.” Lucien continued comforting her, and Elain realized what a fool she’d been the past years, to deny herself the sheer solace her mate provided her with just a few soft words and touches. “Was that…?”

“Yes.” Elain worked to steady her breathing. “I saw everything.”

Lucien paled. “Everything?”

Elain nodded, staring up at him. “We’ll travel… somewhere together. And Vassa will be wreathed in a crown of flame and feathers.”

“Elain—“

“Your father will rise to his full glory—”

“Beron?”

“No, the other one,” Elain snapped, massaging her temples. If only he could see. “And you’ll take your place next to him.”

“Other one? What are you—?”

“The man at the lake will fall and his birds released into the wind, but not without great cost.”

Lucien stared at Elain aghast.

“The Dread Trove will be restored, with the help of visitors from worlds so close to ours, but separated by the thinnest of veils.”

“Elain—“

“But we’ll be happy together, in the land of perpetual sun.”

“We will?”

“Yes, the two of us. You glow in the future. And we’ll have children—I’m not sure how many, at least two—“

Lucien’s lips stopped any more words from leaving her mouth. “Elain,” he chuckled against her, his lips kissing the corners of her mouth. “Let’s leave some things as a surprise, hm?”

“But what about—umph!”

Lucien’s lips slotted against her own again, his hands cradling her jaw, and Elain let her train of thought taper off.

“We don’t need to worry about any of that now,” he whispered. “Let your mate take care of you, hm?”

Elain wanted to argue, that they absolutely should worry about what she had just witnessed, but then Lucien was kissing her again. His big hands trailed down her waist, then over her hips and behind her to cup her bottom. Whatever would come to pass would come—not admitting to her feelings and spending time with Lucien wouldn’t change that.

So Elain twisted her hand in Lucien’s shirt and nipped at his lips and smiled in triumph when she felt him gasp against her. Her victory was short-lived: with one graceful swoop, Lucien carried her in his arms towards the closed door in his apartment.

As she suspected, it was a bedroom. Elain didn’t have time to study the room in detail, as Lucien tossed her on the bed then followed after her, climbing on top of her and resuming his heated kisses.

“Is this alright?” he whispered, his lips trailing down her jaw, throat and collarbone.

“Yes!” she gasped as his lips skimmed her upper chest. She was on fire, and knew Lucien would only stoke the flames of her desire the more he touched her. “Off, off—!”

Together, they wrestled her dress off and soon, Elain was bare in front of her mate on his bed. Before, she might have felt self conscious—she’d only been with Graysen, and that was in a dark room—but she had no reason to be embarrassed, not when Lucien was staring at her like his world had just been shattered and made new in the span of an afternoon.

“Elain,” he croaked, glancing at her body before settling on her bright face. “You’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen.”

Elain smiled, her chest warm and beating, before Lucien was on top of her again, his lips against hers. She threaded her hands through his long hair and moved her hands over his neck, his back, his chest, anywhere that she could, just to feel more of his body.

Lucien moved down her body, his lips licking and pecking at her sensitive breasts, her bellybutton—Cauldron, she had seen this too—before settling between her legs.

“Yes?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. Still checking on her, making sure she wanted this, wanted him. Lucien was breathing heavily, his eye darting to the curls between her legs and her heated face. He swallowed, like he was barely holding onto his restraint.

Elain wasn’t faring any better. “Yes,” she responded desperately, canting her hips towards him. Lucien needed no further persuasion: gripping her inner thighs, he wrenched her thighs apart and lowered himself between them.

The first, hot press of his tongue against her folds had Elain arching her back against his bed. The next swipe of his tongue against her clit made her grab Lucien’s head and keep him right where she wanted him.

Lucien didn’t seem to mind; groaning into her cunt, Lucien kept licking and sucking, gradually inserting one, then another thick finger inside her tight channel and thrusting. Elain moaned her approval, too delirious with pleasure to form words.

After nearly no time at all, Lucien crooked his fingers a certain way inside her, his tongue flicking her clit and his eye intense on her face, and Elain was coming. It was all consuming, but immediately her body craved more, more, more.

“Lucien!” Elain gasped, pushing his head away from between her legs, where he had been gently lapping at her swollen bud. “I need you!”

Lucien sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily but studying Elain. “You already have me, Elain.”

Elain felt her heart twist, knowing he’d given himself to her the day she crawled out of the cauldron and the mating bond snapped. But although Lucien had long ago given himself to her, Elain hadn’t yet done the same for him. She needed to reassure her mate that she wanted him.

Silently, Elain rose from the bed and helped Lucien discard his clothes. The more and more golden-brown skin he revealed to her, the warmer Elain felt; whether the heat was coming from Lucien or herself, she couldn’t be sure.

Soon, he was naked, and Lucien’s glorious body was on display. Elain felt a sudden rush of pride: this strong, clever, handsome male was all hers, and no one else’s.

“Have you…?” Lucien began when he was over her once again, the tip of his cock brushing her folds.

“Yes,” Elain responded, shifting her hips to get comfortable. He was so close to where she needed him.

“Are you sure—“

Elain stopped his question with her lips, soft and sweet, against his. Lucien was on his elbows above her, his face inches from her own. Silently, she moved her hand over the scars on his face and traced them gently, then leaned up to kiss them lovingly.

Shivering, Lucien pressed against her, working himself inside her tight channel. He went slowly, letting her adjust, until finally he bottomed out inside her.

Elain felt full. Not just from Lucien’s length, but from it all meant for her: having someone with her, always, to defend her, protect her, care for her, and support her. She belonged to someone, and someone belonged to her. She could cry from how happy she felt.

And as Lucien finally shifted his hips and began moving, his body and his heat above and within her, Elain felt grounded for the first time since she was turned. Her mind quieted, no longer tormenting her with what would happen, but blessedly blank, letting her focus on being with her mate.

Elain was thankful; she didn’t want to miss any of what she was experiencing. Lucien was thick inside her, moving slowly but steadily. He was being so polite, exactly what she expected from the gentleman Elain knew Lucien was.

But Elain was selfish, especially now, and she wanted more.

“I need—“ Elain gasped, unsure how to communicate what she wanted.

Like Lucien could read her mind, he shifted one of her legs up against his hip and thrust hard inside her. Stars exploded behind her eyelids and Elain could hear the smirk in Lucien’s voice. “Is that what you needed?”

“Yes!” Elain moaned as Lucien leaned back on his knees, her leg still propped up against his body.

“What else do you need, Elain?” Lucien crooned softly above her, increasing his pace inside her. He swiped a thumb over her clit.

“Yes, Lucien, more,” Elain begged quietly, quickly approaching her peak.

“Ask nicely,” Lucien grunted. He was fucking into her hard now, hilting his cock fully inside her. Sweat rolled down his neck and chest. “Tell me what you need.”

“Keep touching me and stay with me, please.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part. After everything they’d been through, it was too much to ask of him. Elain expected Lucien to freeze, but it only seemed to spur him on.

“Anything. Anything you want,” Lucien groaned, his thumb furiously circling her clit and like an explosion, Elain came. It was like nothing she’d felt before; indescribable pleasure raced up and down her spine, pleasure that came from not just Lucien touching her, but the knowledge that he was hers, and she was his.

Elain was dimly aware of Lucien cursing to himself before he pressed his length inside her and came, collapsing on top of her as his orgasm petered out. He rolled them over so Elain was on his chest.

If Elain thought his heartbeat was loud before, it was nothing compared to the explosive drumming now. It soothed her, though, and Elain felt her eyes drift close after only a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” Lucien whispered against her temple later that afternoon after they had woken up for a second round of lovemaking. “For those horrible things I called you earlier. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“But they were true, as much as it hurts to admit it.”

“But that doesn’t mean I needed to say them.”

Elain sighed into Lucien’s chest and twined her legs with his under the thin sheet on his bed. “If you hadn’t said them, I’m not sure we would have ended up here, right now.”

“But surely you saw this coming.” Elain could hear the grin on his face. “Surely one of your visions—“

“My visions have told me quite a bit about the two of us,” Elain admitted, her cheeks red. “But didn’t you say earlier that some things should be a surprise?”

Lucien dropped a kiss to her nose, and Elain felt his heat suffuse her entire body with that one peck. “I did say that. I may not be terribly fond of them, but if they all concern you, then I’ll gladly let each day with you be a surprise.”

#elucienweek2023 #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar #my fic #my fics #i have given up on moodboards #and will now be making crappy banners for fics #gRAphIc DesIGn IS mY pASSioN #like this is laughably bad lmao #anyways this fic is my first canon universe fic for these two #a court of thorns and roses #happy elucien week!

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theres-a-tvjoe · 10 months

Text

as long as stars are above you - drw x sfk

Hi hi hi I’m back with another sanny fic because I can’t stop myself 🫡

Set in the same universe as ‘nice guys throw punches’ and just unmitigated, completely indulgent fluff.

Tags: proposal (!!), engagement, conspiring siblings, family fluff, softest boys in the world

READ ON AO3

- - -

“Okay, I’m just pulling up to the house to pick up Sam,” Josie whispers into the phone, not waiting for Danny to even say hello. She has one hand on the steering wheel of her car as she pulls up out front of the Kiszka family home, peering out the window to make sure Sam isn’t waiting outside.

“Why are you whispering?” Danny whispers back, sitting in his own car a block away where he won’t be spotted. “They can’t hear you.”

“Shut it, asshole,” Josie rolls her eyes, knowing Danny will be able to hear that even over the phone. “Which one of us is taking this plan seriously?”

Danny snorts. “I really doubt anyone is taking this plan more seriously than I am, considering it was my idea and I’m about to walk myself into the proverbial lion’s den.”

“A lion’s den you’ve had your own key for since you were like, 15. I’d hardly classify your second family’s home as a lion's den.”

“You know what I mean,” Danny nearly whines, sighing. “I’m nervous, Jo.”

Josie sighs fondly, sitting back against the driver’s seat as she puts the car in park.

“I know you are,” she says gently. “But Dan, they adore you. You’ve been a fixture in the Kiszka family for over a decade - well before you and Sam ever started dating. And now you’ve been together, what? Five years?”

“Six,” Danny provides, heart fluttering.

“Right,” Josie says. “So this isn’t going to be a surprise to them. They’re going to be thrilled and they’re going to be so touched that you wanted to do this.”

Danny exhales, nodding even though he knows Josie can’t see him.

“I just -,” he swallows. “Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Jo. And thanks for helping.”

“You’re my big brother, Danny,” Josie says, her smile obvious through the phone. “And Sam is one of my favourite people - it’s not like it’s a hardship to hang out with him, even if I have to pretend it’s for a super secret early birthday present for you.”

“You better get me something good,” Danny says, smiling.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry,” she quips. “I already pre-ordered your big pile of nothing, just have to go pick it up -”

Danny hears a door close in the background of the call, and his heart kicks in his chest.

“Oh shit, he’s coming out,” Josie whispers. “You’ve got two hours - go ask for your blessing! Love you, bye!”

Danny doesn’t even get a word in before she’s hung up. He blows out a breath, starting his car and waiting until he’s sure Sam and Josie are gone before driving up to the Kiszka family home. A break from touring and Christmas coming up means everyone is home under one roof.

Danny gets out of the car, wiping his hands on his pants and taking a steadying breath. Here goes nothing.

Danny knocks twice on the door before opening it, just as he’s done since he first met the Kiszka family. It’s so instinctual even though Karen constantly reminds him he doesn’t need to worry, that he’s welcome any time.

“Knock knock,” he calls out, praying his voice doesn’t betray how nervous he is. He can hear sounds coming from the living room, the odd twang of a guitar amidst lively conversation.

Karen’s head pokes around the corner and she smiles widely, immediately coming forward with arms open for a hug.

“Hi honey!” she says, pulling Danny down for a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you today - Sammy just left.”

“I know,” Danny says, hugging Karen tightly. She’s always been so kind to him, welcoming him with open arms as a gangly teenager and never letting him go. “I actually came to see you all, if that’s okay.”

She presses a firm kiss to his cheek, patting the other one with a gentle hand.

“Of course it is, Daniel, you know that,” she gently admonishes him. She brushes a few errant snowflakes from his shoulders before leading him to the living room. “Come sit, we just made coffee.”

Everyone is seated comfortably in various spots, Jake reclined on the floor with his back against the couch, guitar in hand. Josh is folded like a pretzel in the arm chair, an obscenely large mug in one hand and a book of Mad Libs in the other (concerning, Danny thinks, because the last thing Josh Kiszka needs is a structured game for fart jokes, but he’ll worry about it later). Ronnie is sitting on the other side of the coffee table on the floor, working diligently at untangling a gnarled rope of twinkling lights.

“Hey kiddo,” Kelly says, smiling from where he’s seated on the couch. “Didn’t think we’d see you today - you want a coffee? Come sit.”

“I uh,” Danny clears his throat, wiping his palms on his pants again. God, why is he so sweaty all of a sudden? It’s snowing outside, for fuck’s sake. He’s wearing one of his favourite sweaters (re: one Karen bought him a few Christmases ago that’s covered in little knitted pine trees) and a nicer pair of pants, but he suddenly feels underdressed. “I came to talk to you guys, actually. All of you, if that’s okay.”

It seems to get their collective attention, Karen sitting with a worried expression next to Kelly and Jake setting his guitar down.

“Is everything okay?” Ronnie asks, hands stilling on the tangled lights.

“Yeah, yep,” Danny says, cracking his knuckles nervously. “It’s not - it’s good, not bad. I hope.”

“Sweetheart, why don’t you sit down?” Karen says gently, gesturing to the empty loveseat across from them all.

Danny nods, sitting.

He stands back up almost immediately, too nervous to sit still. He shifts on his feet, swallowing.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to the family sitting in front of him. Josh is giving him a worried look, and Jake’s gaze is steady but gentle. “Okay, yeah. So. Alright. Um.”

“Danny,” Josh says, shifting a little to sit forward. “It’s just us. What’s going on?”

Danny looks at them all, taking in the kindness and concern so evident on all of their faces. Faces he’s known for most of his life now. Faces he loves. Faces that are so reflective of the one he loves most in the world.

He nods, blowing out a breath. He makes himself sit down, resting his elbows on his knees and threading his hands together just so they’re occupied.

“You’ve all known me since I was so young,” he starts, praying his voice won’t break. “And you’ve never been anything but welcoming and kind. You gave me a second home like it was no big deal, fed me, cared for me, treated me like I was one of your own.”

Karen takes Kelly’s hand, squeezing it like she’s anticipating something.

“I want to thank you for that,” Danny says, looking at them. He’s doing his best to keep it together, but it’s getting harder by the second. “All of you. It means more to me than I could ever say, and I’m so grateful for each of you and the room you made for me in your lives. It’s a privilege that I don’t take for granted, and I want you to know that.”

“Of course we know that, Danny,” Kelly says, smiling softly. “We love you, kid.”

Danny nods, swallowing. He can feel tears burning behind his eyes, but resolutely keeps them at bay.

“I love you too, so much,” he says, and his voice wobbles a little. He clears his throat. “The respect I have for each of you and for this family is - I can’t even really put it into words. Your opinions and perspectives carry so much weight for me, and I know they do for Sam as well. You’re his world, you know? This family is everything to him, and he’s everything to me.”

“Danny -” Karen says gently, like she’s worried he’s about to fall to pieces.

He gives her a reassuring smile, laughing a little. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird,” he says. “But I’m almost there, I swear. I just have to say this. It’s important.”

Karen nods, squeezing Kelly’s hand and giving Danny an encouraging nod. Josh, Jake, and Ronnie are still watching Danny carefully.

“I got Josie to take Sam out this morning because I wanted to do this just us,” he explains. He sits up a little, heart pounding. “To have this moment, this conversation. And - well, I guess it’s not really asking for your blessing because we all know that Sam is going to do whatever he wants regardless of what anyone says, but -”

Karen gasps, pressing her hand to her mouth.

Danny smiles, letting out a shuddering breath as he nods. He digs out a little box from his pocket, holding it in his hand.

“I’m going to ask Sam to marry me,” he says, and the words feel like a song. Like the perfect progression of chords, like a rhythm that never ends. He can’t help the nervous laugh that follows, because he just dropped his heart onto the coffee table and has to hope for the best. “And I wanted you all to know first, so that we could talk if, you know, if there was anything you were worried about.”

There’s a moment of silence, certainly no more than a few seconds, that feels like an eternity. And then it’s suddenly broken by a sound, a half hiccuped laugh punctuated by a sniffle.

It’s Jake. His chin is wobbling and there are tears filling his eyes faster than they can roll down his cheeks and he’s smiling.

“Oh, Jakey,” Josh sighs fondly with his own eyes shining, immediately getting out of the armchair to join his twin on the floor. He wraps his arm around his shoulders, tugging him close.

“Jake,” Danny breathes, his own eyes burning. He sits forward, half out of his seat. “Are you - hey, it’s okay -”

Jake shakes his head, still smiling while wiping roughly at his eyes.

“No, it’s - these are happy tears, I swear,” he croaks, voice breaking and choked with tears. “Jesus, Danny. You’ve been our brother for so long, and now it’ll be official.”

“If you’ll have me,” Danny manages to say, tears finally spilling over as he looks at them all. “If Sam will have me.”

That seems to set everyone into motion, all of them getting up and tugging Danny into a massive hug. They’re all crying, happy tears and excited laughter bubbling from the tangle of limbs they’ve made.

“Oh, this is just so special,” Karen sniffs, finally letting Danny go and wiping her eyes. “My first son-in-law!”

“Wait wait,” Ronnie says, holding her hand out. “You had a ring box. Show us!”

“Jake just stopped crying,” Danny teases, earning a whack from the younger twin. He opens the little black box, revealing the gold and black band inside. Golden letters shimmer through the silken black enamel:

ALWAYS

“You’re setting the bar way too high,” Ronnie sniffles, taking the ring out and looking at it. “He’s going to love it. God, he’s going to freak.”

“When are you going to do it?” Josh asks, taking his turn with the ring.

“Well, I was thinking tonight,” Danny says, grinning. “We’ve got a few days before Christmas, so we can celebrate and still leave room for actual Christmas stuff.”

“And then it’s your birthday,” Jake points out.

“Yeah, but that’s whatever,” Danny waves it away. Jake rolls his eyes in disagreement.

“There's supposed to be really nice snowfall tonight,” Danny continues. “So I think we’ll go for a walk. I’ll bring something warm to drink and tell Sam to bring his camera and then,” he wiggles the ring box.

Karen claps her hands together, looking at Kelly. “We can have everyone over tonight,” she says excitedly. “Danny, your family knows, right?”

Danny laughs, her excitement endearing. “They know, yeah.”

“Okay, oh my god,” she says, half spinning on the spot looking for her phone. “Kelly, call Dan and Lori, tell them we’re coming over. We can get everything ready there and then bring it back here so Sam doesn’t suspect anything. We’ll get champagne and snacks and when the boys get back we can surprise Sam and celebrate!”

“Mama,” Josh laughs, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders. “Maybe check with Danny and see if that’s something he wants as part of the night.”

Karen immediately presses her hand to her mouth, turning and grabbing Danny’s hands.

“Oh, of course,” she says. “I’m so sorry, honey! I’m just excited. But whatever you want, if you want the night to yourselves -”

Danny shakes his head, pulling her in for a hug.

“That all sounds amazing,” he insists. “Having everyone together would be perfect.”

Karen claps, nearly jumping up and down on the spot. She turns, looking at her family.

“Alright, Kiszkas. We have work to do!”

By the time Danny manages to wrangle Sam out of the house for an evening walk, the sun is beginning to set. They’d enjoyed dinner just the two of them, the house conveniently empty.

“Alright, I’ll admit it,” Sam says, looking through the lens of his camera. “You were right. The light is really nice - god damned winter golden hour shit.”

Danny whistles. “Wow, I might have to write that down. You admitted I was right about something.”

“I’m known for my benevolence.”

“Uh huh,” Danny laughs, holding out a hand for Sam to take. It’s cold, but not so cold that it’s miserable to be outside. They’re bundled up, noses turning pink and breath visible, but the way the setting sun reflects off the snow makes it all worth it.

“Let’s go this way,” Danny says, leading Sam down the path to the nearby park. “Josie was telling me they strung up a bunch of twinkling lights over the bridge.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to put the moves on me, Wagner,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows. “Are you trying to romance me? Woo me? I’m a tough sell, you know.”

Danny snorts. “Oh believe me, I know. You make me work for it.”

“Yeah, but worth the effort,” Sam grins, swinging their hands. They talk about everything and nothing, Sam artfully dodging questions about what he did during the day, thinking he’s keeping a birthday surprise for Danny a secret.

It’s incredibly endearing, and it eases the nerves fluttering in Danny’s stomach.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty,” Sam says, taking his hand back from Danny to snap a photo of the snow dusted park bridge. It’s small, arching pleasantly over a now frozen pond, and twinkling golden lights are strung from the trees on either side and through the railings.

“Here,” Danny says, holding his hand out for the camera. “Go stand on the bridge, I want to take a picture of you.”

“You have a million pictures of me,” Sam says, but hands it over as he walks onto the bridge, standing in the middle.

“Yeah, but this one is special,” Danny murmurs, holding the camera up to his eye. Sam is smiling widely, the glowing sun behind Danny lighting him just enough to paint him gold.

Once he takes it, he moves to join Sam on the bridge, thankful they have the park to themselves in the quiet evening.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling Sam close and pressing their cheeks together. He holds the camera out, hoping it’s at least a little in focus as he takes the selfie.

“That’s what front facing phone cameras are for, grandpa,” Sam teases, still smiling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny says. He swallows, heart beating a million miles a minute. “Hey, do me a favour?”

“Nope,” Sam says immediately, popping the p as he starts fiddling with his lens cap.

Danny rolls his eyes, because of course.

“Just -,” he grabs Sam by the shoulders, turning him to face the opposite way, his back to Danny.

“Don’t manhandle me, Daniel -“

“I have a surprise for you, you brat,” Danny laughs. “Shut up and let me do it.”

Sam makes a delighted noise. “Well in that case, carry on.”

“Thanks,” Danny says drily.

The sun is below the horizon now, stars just starting to twinkle overhead. The lights in the trees and on the bridge are casting everything in the golden glow and - just as Danny takes a deep breath - big, fluffy snowflakes start to fall.

He takes the ring box out of his jacket pocket, and lowers himself to one knee. He doesn’t feel the cold - every bone in his body, every nerve ending, every cell, every bit of stardust he’s made of is focused solely on Sam.

“Okay,” Danny says, thankful his voice comes out steady as he opens the box. “You can turn around now.”

Sam turns around, and it takes him a split second to realize Danny isn’t standing. His hands come up to his heart so fast that it almost looks like it hurts.

“Are you fucking serious,” he blurts.

Danny laughs, head thrown back. It’s the most Sam reaction he could’ve hoped for.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Danny says softly, smiling up at him. He can feel the tears in his eyes, but he couldn’t care less. “I’m serious. You have to let me say what I want to say, alright?”

For once - ever, maybe - Sam says nothing, simply nodding, hands over his heart like he’s trying to keep it in his chest.

“Shit,” Danny laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Was really hoping I’d keep it together.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam nearly whispers, the tremble in his voice so painfully sweet that it brings fresh tears to Danny’s eyes.

Danny takes a steadying breath, looking up at Sam.

“Sam,” he starts, no longer fighting the emotion in his voice. “You’ve been my best friend for what feels like my whole life, and if I’m honest, I think I’ve loved you for just as long. You push me, you challenge me, you comfort me, and you understand me like no one else in the world. Every day that I wake up next to you feels like I’ve won the fucking lottery.”

“Even when I steal the blankets?” Sam asks, tears running unchecked down his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Danny laughs, sniffling. “Even when you steal the blankets. Sometimes I think about what life would be like if we hadn’t found each other, if fate or the universe or god or whatever hadn’t brought us together. And… I can’t see it. Not because it’s too painful to imagine, but because I know that there’s no world, no universe, no reality where there’s a me without you. There’s no existence where there’s a Daniel Wagner without a Samuel Kiszka to follow anywhere and everywhere. And -“

He has to take a second to wipe his eyes and take a breath, voice breaking.

“And that makes me feel like I could take on the world, Sam,” he whispers. “It makes me feel unstoppable. Knowing I have you next to me, in my corner and by my side, it makes me feel like there’s nothing I couldn’t do.”

He reaches out and tugs one of Sam’s hands down, pressing his lips to the cold skin of his knuckles.

“You make me so fucking happy, Sam,” he says. “And if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to make you feel the same way. Will you marry me?”

There's a long moment of silence, and then before Danny even registers that the other man has moved, his back is hitting the snow and he has his arms full of Sam Kiszka.

“Yes!” Sam cries, the sound muffled by Danny’s hair and jacket and probably a mouthful of snow. He’s pressing furious kisses to Danny’s neck, then his jaw, and then all over his face, each punctuated by another ‘yes!’.

Sam sits up, straddling Danny’s lap, hair flying wild and snowflakes kissing his eyelashes.

“I’m making Daniel Wagner my husband!” He whoops, so loud that Danny can’t help but laugh. He rests his hands on Sam’s thighs, content to stare up at him for as long as he can.

Sam looks like an angel, cheeks flushed with cold and lashes still damp with joyous tears. Danny takes Sam’s left hand, setting the ring box on his own chest to pull the gold band out.

“There,” he says, sliding the band onto Sam’s ring finger. “Official.”

Sam lifts his hand, looking at the band. His smile is radiant, eyes shining.

“Always,” he reads aloud. He leans down, holding Danny’s jaw with his left hand as he brushes their noses together. “Promise?”

Danny smiles. “Promise.”

“Shh, they’re coming!” Ronnie hisses, nearly skidding on the floor as she runs to hide behind the couch.

All the lights are out in the Kiszka home, everyone tucked behind various pieces of furniture to conceal themselves from view. Strung over the fireplace is a massive banner, lovingly but hastily painted with hearts and ‘CONGRATULATIONS DANNY AND SAM’.

“Man, this will be awkward if Sam said no,” Josie remarks, yelping when Lori pinches her side in reprimand.

The sound of a key turning in the lock makes everyone quiet down, the door opening.

Sam is tapping his boots against the hallway mat, shaking off the snow. “Daniel, if we still have the house to ourselves then I’m about to give you the ride of your life -“

Danny’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing. He knows everyone is within earshot. “Sam -“

“SURPRISE!”

The lights turn on and everyone pops up from behind couches and bookshelves. Sam nearly jumps out of his skin, screaming and instinctively grabbing for Danny.

“Thank god we interrupted that sentence,” Josh quips, blowing into a paper party horn. Danny looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head with a grin.

“Well?!” Karen asks, bouncing on the spot.

Sam doesn’t move for a long moment, face impressively passive.

Danny pinches him and Sam breaks into a wide grin, holding up his hand. The gold band is there, a perfect fit.

“We’re engaged!” He hollers, immediately kicking off his shoes and jumping into the chaos of family, everyone shouting in excitement and piling in for hugs.

Danny grins, taking off his jacket and shoes, letting himself savour the view for just a moment before joining the fray.

“I like the banner,” he says once he’s exchanged hugs and kisses with everyone, putting his arm around Sam. Around his fiancé.

“Let’s just say there was a battle of wills to end up where we are now,” Dan says, giving his son a rueful smile.

“I maintain ‘same penis forever’ is a great engagement banner,” Josh says, somehow now in possession of a paper party hat that says ‘bridesmaid’ on it.

“It is,” Jake agrees.

“Alright,” Karen claps her hands, ignoring the twins. “Time for a toast!”

Kelly pops a bottle of champagne, filling glasses as everyone passes them around. There’s music playing in the background, the fireplace lit, the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner. Danny’s pretty sure he’s never been happier in his life.

He pulls Sam close, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“We’ve all been family for so long,” Dan says, holding up his glass. “But it feels like magic to welcome you officially into the family tonight, Sam. We couldn’t ask for anything more in a son in law, and couldn’t ask for anyone better for Danny. We love you.”

Danny presses his face into Sam’s hair, trying to keep more tears at bay, but it’s useless. He’s too happy, too fucking grateful for this moment.

“Thank you, Dan,” Sam says, eyes shining.

“And to our gentle giant,” Kelly says, raising his glass. “Danny, it’s our honour to officially welcome you to our family. You’ve been a brother to Jake and Josh since you were just a kid, but to Sam you were always more - his lighthouse, his rock. You make each other better, and we are so proud of you both.”

“To Sam and Danny,” Jake calls, lifting his glass.

“To Sam and Danny!”

The clink of glasses sounds like ringing bells as Danny leans down to kiss Sam properly, smiling against his lips.

“To us,” he whispers.

“Hell yeah,” Sam grins. “Always, baby.”

#danny gvf #jake kiszka #sanny #sanny gvf #sam kiszka/danny wagner #sam kiszka #sam gvf #josh kiszka #greta van fluff #greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner

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thefrontofmymind · 2 years

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When At Lover's Lake (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader) 18+

a/n: this is a repost! i posted and deleted it like 3 weeks ago bc i got shadowbanned like right after i posted it so let's hope this goes a little better this time! kisses! x

SYNOPSIS: You come back to Hawkins for Winter Break and catch up with your best friend, super duper senior, Eddie Munson.

WARNINGS: weed smoking, SMUT so 18+ please and thanks! (unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it, folks)

You didn’t know what did it, but for some reason the Hawkins winter had gotten to you. You had a chill in your bones that you just couldn’t shake and it was becoming frustrating, more than anything else. You figured it was a way for the universe to punish you for leaving the small town, and all the people in it, when you left for college that previous September. Well, you say the universe, but it was probably closer to your best friend, Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, who would without a doubt strike up a deal with a higher power to make sure you knew he missed you.

And you missed him as well, of course–the weekly letters back and forth and the occasional phone call just wasn’t cutting it. It was a shock you didn’t expect, you didn’t realise just how much you’d miss your Eddie once you left, with him having to repeat his senior year for the second time.

“This is my year, doll!” he’d tell you. “You’ll have to give me the grand tour of campus next year!”

You didn’t have much hope in Eddie actually going to college–you knew him that well, that it was obvious educational institutions weren’t his forte–but you held onto his drive at getting his diploma at least, you’d already began to make a plan to see him walk across that stage in May.

It took you a total of twenty minutes after you’d set foot in Hawkins to reunite with the man, himself–an all too familiar knock at your bedroom window as you placed your duffel bag for the winter break on your old bed.

Almost on instinct, you rushed to the window to let Eddie inside, still thinking of all the times he’d sneak into your room to hang out during high school.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug after you dragged him through your window. “How’s fancy-schmancy college life treating you?”

“Boring compared to yours, I imagine,” you answered. “Still running that little group of yours? And the business?”

“The Hellfire Club is good, we got a couple freshmen and they’re alright…” Eddie smiled. “And business is good, missing my favourite customer though…”

There was a silence between the two of you…was it awkward now? What happened in the three months you were gone that created this air of tension with you and Eddie–you didn’t know where to look, how to stand, all you could think about was how much you missed him.

“Well, I’m here now so let’s make up for it!” you joked. Eddie just nodded and helped you climb out of your window, like old times. The sun was just starting to drop, but there was still light in the sky, your parents wouldn’t mind if you were out late–you were an adult that was off at college for three quarters of the year now–though you figured they would probably hold an issue with the fact that you were out with the town freak, smoking weed at Lover’s Lake.

It was comfort, being back in Eddie’s old van that you swore just ran off prayer and the cheapest gas possible these days, rugged up in the blanket Eddie kept for you, while he blasted his newest cassette for you as he drove like a madman to Rick’s now abandoned shack on the shoreline of Lover’s Lake.

There were no other cars there when Eddie finally parked and settled with you in the back of his van, not very surprising considering the Indiana cold in December, fresh snow still dusted on the ground all over.

Eddie quickly parked and climbed into the back of the van with you, onto the crochet blanket he’d “found”–you were pretty sure it was taken from some random house party and no one ever came looking for it, and you’d made your piece with that.

Eddie pulled a joint out of the glove compartment of his van, pre-rolled for convenience, and lit up. He took the first few puffs before handing it to you. He simply sat back, trying to relax while you raised it to your lips. It was a relief, your dorm mate was a staunch conservative and would totally snitch on you if you tried smoking back at school, so you hadn’t partaken in a good while, and that was clear quite quickly.

Within minutes, you felt the high wash over you, more than Eddie felt. While he was simply more relaxed, a weight off his shoulders, your eyes were bloodshot, and you couldn’t stop giggling. It made Eddie laugh, when you explained that you hadn’t gotten high since you’d left Hawkins.

“Awww, my little lightweight!” he teased, roughing up your hair and taking the joint from between your fingers. “Maybe you take it easy, eh?”

You agreed, deciding it’d be better to just sit in the van as Eddie smoked. You caught up on all the going-ons of Hawkins, the new freshmen, how Eddie’s classes were going, how the new sheriff didn’t seem to care enough to even try to bust him once yet since he started at the end of the summer.

Eventually you’d caught up on everything, and so you sat in silence for a while–you’d mostly sobered up and mellowed out.

“Do you think we’d be friends if we met today?” Eddie asked out of the blue, laying back and just staring up at the roof of the van. “Like with how we are now? Or do you think we’d be too different, you off at college and me still stuck here?”

You contemplated it for a small second. “I think so. I think we’re the kind of people who were made to be close, like it’s written in the stars or something, so I think it was always in the universe’s plan for us to be friends.”

You saw Eddie smile, just a little. “Me too.”

“I can’t believe I was intimidated by you when we first met…” you reminisced. You’d met on the first day of your freshman year of high school–Eddie’s sophomore year, you’d just moved to Hawkins from a few towns over, your dad got a new job that required relocation.

His hair was still pretty short then, but he still had those curls, just cropped a lot closer to his scalp, and his skin was bare–which with your encouragement was not the case anymore. You ran into him in the hall, literally, not watching where you were going and face planted right into his chest as he stood at his locker. You were too scared to say anything as he just stared at you, and you quickly ran off after mumbling a quick apology.

In the following days he tracked you down, he was intrigued by you, no one seemed to know who you were so he took it upon himself to introduce you to the world of Hawkins High, cliques and all. It was a shock to his system when he discovered you were almost a carbon copy of him–same music taste, love of fantasy, and a flair for the dramatics, you became friends immediately and you could count on one hand the amount of days you didn’t see him during your four years of high school after that.

“You know…” Eddie started, still avoiding eye contact. “When we first met, I had such a big crush on you…” Your blood ran cold at the revelation.

“Yeah…. I did too-I had a crush on you, I mean…” You couldn’t blame the weed on your sudden burst of confidence. “Why didn’t we ever do anything?”

Eddie finally looked at you, who was staring right back at him. “I don’t know,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t know…”

“So do something now.”

Eddie quickly sat up with wide eyes, questioning you in a way. You didn’t say anything, but your grin spoke for you. You knelt on the floor of the van, and shimmied closer to Eddie, who was still sitting, legs out in front of him. You placed a hand on the side of his face–you could feel electricity running through your fingertips.

It took a second for your lips to reach his, but when it finally happened, you knew with every bone in your body that this was the universe’s plan all along. Warmth spread through your body as Eddie grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, and deepening the kiss. Your tongue brushed against his bottom lip, which he adjusted to let in, letting out a small groan as it happened, making you smirk into the kiss.

Soon enough, your hands began to wander from the sides of his face, to the hair on the back of his neck–which received a small tug–then to his shoulders, under his leather jacket, which was swiftly removed from his form, leaving him in just a t-shirt.

Eddie broke away from the kiss to catch his breath, as you did the same.

“A-are you sure this is alright?” he asked between pants.

You nodded, and began placing light kisses to his jaw, then to the column of his neck. “And you? Are you okay with this?”

Eddie let out a low chuckle, hands rubbing small circles on your hips. “Baby, I’m more than okay with it…”

And you could tell, the pressure growing on your inner thigh as you left a deep, red mark in the crook of his neck.

“Let’s get this off, hey?” he said, pulling at your sweater, which was quickly taken off to reveal the white, cotton bra you wore underneath. You swore Eddie’s eyes just about popped out of his head before his hands took hold of your tits and his mouth was back on yours.

You were beginning to get light-headed, and needed some relief. Without realising it, your hips began to move against Eddies, the seams of both of your jeans coming in very handy.

Eddie groaned and pulled away for a second. “Need you properly, not just like this…” You gave him a confused look, before he directed you to lay down on the blanket on the floor of the van, slipped off his t-shirt and laid over you. “Like this…”

Both of your hands made quick work of your jeans’ buttons and zippers, and before you knew it, you were bare before him, arms over his shoulders and mouths reunited again. You felt as he positioned himself at your entrance, the air was thick around you in anticipation. Eddie opened his mouth to speak again but you cut him off.

“Just get inside me already, Eddie!” you joked.

“Whatever the princess wants…” He slowly inched his way into you–you felt so full, so complete.

The pair of you stayed still for a second while you adjusted, before giving him the go ahead to move. Your blood felt hot as he thrusted, and your lips quickly found his ear and began nibbling.

It felt like there was no one else on Earth, no one that could possibly approach the van from outside, no college that you’d have to go back to, no one that would judge the two of you.

It didn’t take long for the coil to begin to tighten in your belly, and you let it be known to Eddie, who post-haste began circling your clit with his left hand as his right hand held his head just above yours. Within minutes, you were a moaning mess below him, which set him off into his own release. After a minute, you both silenced, and Eddie pulled out of you and laid beside you–trying to catch his breath as you did the same.

“And why didn’t we do that before?” you laughed as you laid on Eddie’s bicep, still seeing stars crop up on the ceiling of the van.“I really, really don’t know…” Eddie grinned, giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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dcartcorner · 9 months

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It's a very busy weekend over here, so I don't have a lot of time to do art! Instead, please accept this little fic based on the ghost!Peter and witch!Simon art. It's still a work in progress! And standard disclaimer writing is not my forte! -holds up peter and simon and elias- i just think they're neat. Apologies for any errors ^^

(Edit: Can be found on Ao3 as well)

Something Wicked (WIP) Characters: Simon Fairchild, Peter Lukas (more to come, including Elias Bouchard) Ship: None for now, but eventual FoggySkies (potential Simon/Peter/Elias? Who knows!) Warnings: none

There was a house in the middle of the woods. It was an old thing, with vines crawling up and over its walls and its arches, nestled between the tall, gloomy pines. It was entirely out of place, and yet looked like it could not have possibly belonged anywhere else. It was abandoned and had been abandoned for a long time - so said the nearby townsfolk who knew of it as a local legend - and saw as little sunlight as it did travellers. Peter knew of this house because it was where he lived, insomuch as ghosts lived anywhere at all.

His ship, he recalled, had crashed along the rocky shores not too far away, and he’d wandered unknowingly into the woods, searching for help. He was not sure when, precisely, he realized he was dead. But it wasn’t as shocking as it perhaps should have been.

Though, if pressed for a precise moment it became apparent to him he was no longer counted amongst the strictly living, he might have said it was when he came to the house and raised his hand to knock on the dark oak door, and his knuckles passed straight through, followed by his hand, and his wrist. He was not sure what he thought he should have felt, but he had to admit that a not-insignificant part of him felt relieved. No more people, no more eyes watching him, no more need for social niceties and exhausting daily interactions. It was peaceful, and, well, there was nothing he could rightly do about it in the end. So, he decided he would enjoy the solitary afterlife, and that would be that.

After determining as much, he went inside, looking for nothing in particular, and he explored what he resolved would be his new home.

He had not expected to find another body in it. But there it was, lying on a settee in what would have reasonably been considered a solarium if not for the dense covering of trees that smothered the windows above and all around. Peter paused and watched the unmoving body. A small figure, and old in appearance. Age must have claimed him. Peter suspected that other people might have felt sorry for this person if they found him like that, but Peter considered him quite lucky in his demise. It seemed peaceful enough, at least, and lonely. Peter stepped nearer, taking a closer look, and as he looked he wondered what the difference was - between passing over entirely or lingering on as a ghost. What made it so that this man rested there with no spirit, and he was left wandering the woods? That was, he supposed, one of the great questions of the universe.

The answer to this question, however, would come to him very shortly after that thought crossed his mind, as he was watching the face of this stranger. Suddenly, the stranger opened his eyes.

Peter reeled backwards. He watched as the man blinked a few times, as if waking from a daydream.

“Oh,” the man said when sky blue eyes turned to Peter. “Hello.”

Peter froze.

“Now, now. No need to be shy,” the man said, sitting up with a huff and rolling his wrists. They cracked. “You are in my house, after all. I have to imagine it’s to see me. Don’t get many visitors otherwise. I’m not entirely sure why.” A chuckle. “But there you have it.” Still, Peter said nothing. “Well, if you’d like the short of it: no, there is nothing I can do for your condition. Dead is dead, isn’t it. Well, except for when it’s not. But you are dead. Dead, dead. The sort of dead that can’t be fixed. Terribly sorry.”

And that was how Peter met Simon Fairchild. Which was to say, against his will.

Then again, he supposed that was how he’d met most people in his life.

The man stood up and adjusted one of his cuffs. “Do feel free to stay as long as you’d like. Ghosts make for good guests. Less trouble than werewolves, let me tell you. After the last time I said to myself, I said, ‘Simon, no more taking in strays. You’re too busy for that.’” He sighed amenably. “Never take my own advice, it seems.

“You can see me?” Peter asked, because he did not know how else to contribute to the conversation the man - Simon - seemed insistent on having.

“Oh, yes,” replied Simon, moving past Peter to a globe bar. “You spend long enough Looking, you end up seeing quite a bit.”

“And… you can hear me?” Peter asked.

Simon looked over his shoulder at Peter. “Oh, yes. You spend long enough Listening, you end up-”

“I… understand,” Peter said, holding up his hand to stop him.

Simon smiled, and turned back to his task of pouring himself a drink. “I’d offer you one, but it wouldn’t do you much good. One of the very great misfortunes of ghostliness. So, what’s your name? How did you turn up in my neck of the woods?” There was a pull in Simon’s words. Something… compelling, which gave Peter pause, for he’d felt such a thing a long time ago. Perhaps that was why he was able to ignore the question.

“Are you a witch?” he asked instead, for that was what his mother had been, and she’d often used that same sort of compelling way of speaking to get her way in the house, and those were unhappy times.

Simon paused and slowly glanced over at Peter, smile faltering in surprise. Then a huff of breath that sounded like a chuckle. “That’s what they call me over in Scrimshaw, at least,” he said, “amongst other things.” He lifted the drink - something golden and dark - to his lips and watched Peter with eyes through which the sky seemed to fall. “Doesn’t much stop them from demanding potion and poultice and miracle cure-alls whenever I drop by.” He put on a voice and went on, “‘Look there, a witch for the fire!’ they say. ‘Oh but first, kind witch, mightn’t you help me with this rash? Come for tea, I’ll tell you all about it.’” He sighed in a long-suffering sort of way and resumed his normal tone, saying, “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it.”

It didn’t, but Peter did not say as much.

“So, must I ask you again for your name?” Simon inquired.

“Depends on what you want it for,” Peter replied.

“My, my, but you are a quick one, aren’t you?” Simon said. As he did, there was a ruckus and a great, black raven flew into the solarium from a doorway behind Peter, and landed itself atop a crooked perch. It looked down at Simon with a glassy eye that reminded Peter of volcanic stone. Simon ignored it. “Close encounter with a witch before?”

“My mother,” Peter supplied.

Simon clicked his tongue. “Ah,” he said. “Very sorry. Well, you have my word, it’s for nothing more than satiating my own curiosity.”

That seemed well and good, and so he said, “Peter Lukas. Captain… Peter Lukas. Of the Tundra.”

“Captain,” Simon repeated with what Peter thought might have been a hint of delight in his voice. “Not very often I get to meet a captain. How wonderful. That was your wreck on the northern shore, then? Horrible disaster. One has to wonder how something so dreadful came to be.”

“There was a fog,” Peter said. He looked up at the raven. It did not seem to notice him in the same way that Simon noticed him.

Simon’s smile vanished. “A fog,” he repeated, and he was silent for a long moment, thinking about something. “I see…”

Peter took this silence as a mark against his character, and so he frowned, brows furrowing together, as he said. “It was unnatural. Fog like that, not the best sailor in the world could have found their way out of it.”

Simon blinked slowly. “Ah, no. No, no, you mustn’t think I’m slandering you. The fog is quite… unique, in these parts. Has a will of its own, you might say. I dare say there was nothing you nor any soul upon your ship could have done to prevent the outcome.”

“Hm.” Peter was satisfied enough with that.

Simon put his drink down. The raven quwork-ed. “I do hate to cut this introduction short,” he said, and he seemed… wary. Though of what, Peter couldn’t say. The mention of the fog seemed to have soured his mood. “But there’s a… house call, I should make.” The smile flickered across Simon’s face again. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure you’ll need some time to become… acquainted with your new situation.” He began to move towards the door with a speed Peter would not have expected of someone of Simon’s age. “Happy haunting.” And with that, he was gone.

Peter stood in the solarium for a good long while, watching where Simon had left before he turned his gaze about the room and to the trees outside, watching the mists dancing through the pines. And, with nothing else to do but wander, so he went, and began to learn the halls of the house in the woods. All things considered, it was hardly the worst sort of afterlife.

#tma #the mangus archives #fanfic #wip #peter lukas #simon fairchild #ghost!peter #witch!simon

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hersie44 · 11 months

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Old Friends (Derek Hale x Reader)

Characters included: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Kira Yukimura, Malia Tate, Jordan Parrish, Noah Stilinski, Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Liam Dunbar.

Requested: No

Type: Reader insert (no use of y/n though), fan fiction.

Word Count: 2034 words

warning: Strong language used.

Note: Sorry for no chapters these last few weeks, I was writing exams for university. Hopefully I will return to regular updates now! :)

Chapter Three.

There was something so surreal about getting ready for a date with Derek Hale, if someone had asked me in high school if we were ever going to date, I would look at them like they had grown two heads. I had probably gone through my whole closet by now, looking for the perfect date outfit. Derek had said to wear something comfortable, that we were doing something he knew I would like.

That was a lot of confidence for a man who hadn't seen me in years, then again even now he knew me like the back of his hand. When I finally settled on jeans and a nice blouse, I heard a knock at the window. Usually when you hear a knock at your window in the middle of the night, you would jump six feet into the air, but I knew better.

I peeked out and saw a familiar handsome face, I smiled and opened the window. There he was, Derek Hale. Kneeling on my roof with a bouquet of flowers in one hand.

"I thought we don't sneak into each other's houses anymore?" I laughed quietly as his free hand gripped my waist, dropping the flowers so he can hold onto the window.

"I thought you would appreciate some nostalgia." He kissed me, a sweet 'hello' kiss that would make any girl melt. I held onto his shoulders as he pulled away, smiling up at him like a lovesick puppy.

"Ready, sunshine?" I nodded, at a loss for words upon hearing his old nickname for me. He lifted me up into his embrace before gently jumping down onto the grass. My house was two stories tall, but even without his werewolf abilities it didn't look like he broke a sweat doing that.

I looked back at the window, wondering why I never questioned how he could climb around so easily when we were in high school. He snuck into my room every night since my grandparents were strict, and then he would make himself at home in my bed so we could do homework together before going to sleep. He would sneak out again at the crack of dawn, so that my grandparents wouldn’t see him in my room when they came to wake me up.

“Where are we going?” I squeezed his hand to get his attention on me, he had been staring at the forest behind my house for a long moment.

“You’ll see.” He smiled. I feel like he could get away with murder with that smile, I would let him.

“You know I don’t like surprises.”

“Too bad, you’ll have to like this one.” I huffed, of course he would still have the same cocky attitude. I thought he changed but when Derek is comfortable, he’s still that cocky kid that I knew and loved back in the day. However, now his actions had more control over me. The moment he kissed my cheek my attitude dropped, when he started walking down the street, I had all but mindlessly followed him.

Maybe I was reading too much into it but as we walked, I could feel his muscles tensing. His thumb constantly caressed the back of my hand, he kept me close like something could happen at any moment. However, I didn’t want to ruin this moment between us. I would never get a first date with him again and I was not about to pass it up. I’ll just have to try and take his mind off whatever is bothering him.

“Derbear, remember when we stole that stop sign?” I pointed down the street, where there was still no stop sign. He chuckled and nodded.

“You mean you and Paige stole while I had to be the getaway driver.”

“You were still an accomplice thus it is still we!” We laughed together this time; I felt his arm relax as we did. Exactly what I wanted.

“You two got me into a lot of trouble.” He smirked, pulling me closer to his side and wrapping his arm around my waist. I could feel my cheeks heat up at the gesture.

“You got us into just as much trouble, you were always the one convincing me to sneak out to parties on a school night.”

“Convince? I don’t think just asking is the same as convincing.”

“It’s very hard to say no to such a handsome face.” Another chuckle escaped him, followed by a kiss. I had to remind myself to thank Aphrodite later, because this man’s kisses felt like I was touching the stars. I doubt I will ever get tired of him, of his touch, of his scent, of his kisses. No, I will be obsessed with this man for the rest of my days.

I chased his lips with my own as he pulled away, I couldn’t even wait another moment to have his lips against mine again. I could feel him smiling against my lips, his hands now gripping my waist tightly. I feel like I’ve forgotten about the date with my mind so consumed by his touch alone. It took all my willpower to pull away, looking up at him with a starstruck gaze.

“Are we at my surprise now?”

“Turn around.” His hands never left my waist as I did, a look of confusion forming on my face.

"The bookstore?" He chuckled, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"You didn't bring any of your books with you when you moved back, I know how much you love to read." I glanced at him, wondering if the man that was holding me now was real.

"Our first date...is you buying me books?”

“There’s a café next door to get some drinks afterwards.” He kissed my cheek and pulled me into the store, the warm air of the heaters hitting in the face. I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the books. He had brought me to heaven.

“What’s my limit?”

“However many books you need to fill that shelf in your office.”

“What? Derek, that’s like fifty to seventy books.” He shrugged, smirking. Then I remembered how much money he makes, how much money he probably spends on his cars. That was when I realised that I was dating a very well-off man. But even with that in mind, I didn’t want to spend all his money. I felt as if that was unfair, I wasn’t with him for his money.

“Sunshine don’t give me that look. I want to do this so please let me.” That’s all I needed to hear before I dragged him down to my favourite aisle in any bookstore. Romance. I could hear him chuckling as I looked at each book with a longing gaze, almost like I would be sad if I didn’t take all of them home. At first, I grabbed the twilight books, you had to start with the cringey classics that you just can’t let go of. Then I grabbed several J.R Ward books, the king of werewolf and vampire romances. Then it was time for more erotic books, court of thorns and roses, the discovery of witches, the twisted series, the zodiac academy series, and the haunting Adeline duo.

“Do I even want to know what you just grabbed?”

“Books that will give me ideas on what we can do.” I winked, a small bit of excitement in my voice. Then I pulled him towards the fantasy section, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson now being placed in his arms.

“Are you going to get all the books again?” He raised an eyebrow, holding up the first book of Percy Jackson.

“If that’s okay, I want to read them again.” He nodded and kissed my forehead, taking the rest of the books from the shelf. His arms were unbelievably full already, the piles of books already meeting his chin. I would say that it makes him much more attractive, holding all my books while I shopped.

When we got to the shop keeper you could see in her eyes that she was surprised to see so many books, but after seeing Derek hold my hand she understood. As he paid, I gave him several kisses all over his face, I could tell he was trying extremely hard to hide the smile that was forming.

“Now I’m paying for our meal.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen his head turn that fast.

“Absolutely not.” He picked up the bags filled to the brim with books with one hand, and the other held my hand tightly. I laughed as he gave me a stern look, he would probably take away from bank card if he could reach it right now. He escorted me out of the bookstore, his arm now wrapping around me and resting his hand on my waist.

“Derbear, seriously I can pay for one thing.”

“Do the girls in those books you’re reading ever pay for anything?” No but they usually don’t let their significant others pay without an argument, so the men end up buying the things the women like behind their backs. But I was not going to tell him that, didn’t want him to get any ideas.

“Fine, but just so you know I will be spoiling you too. You just won’t know when.”

“I’m a werewolf, I’ll hear if you speak about it anywhere near me.” I paused at that comment, wondering if he got his werewolf abilities back and didn’t tell me. He looked down at me, shaking his head which answered my question.

“How is Scott and Stiles?” I changed the topic, knowing that his missing werewolf abilities are a sore subject. I still don’t fully understand how he could lose it, I didn’t think it was a thing he could lose. Then again, the whole supernatural world was new to me. Knowing Derek for as long as I have, I’m surprised I never found out that he was a werewolf. His unbelievable strength, speed, agility, I just wrote it off on his excessive training.

“I think you scared them.” He chuckled.

“Good, I don’t like being lied to and I am still a bit mad at you for using them to babysit me.” I huffed which made him laugh harder as we sat down at the café.

“Even after buying you all these books?”

“Okay, you might have been forgiven before that.” I glanced at him.

“And how was I forgiven?”

“Like this.” I pulled him close for a kiss, smiling against his lips as he moved his hands to my hips. Making out in public has never been on my to do list but Aphrodite has blessed me with a man that is impossible to resist, and it was a self-ordering café so we wouldn’t be interrupted. A quiet moan escaped me as he nibbled on my bottom lip, I opened my mouth eagerly and within a second his tongue was claiming every inch. One of his hands moved up my curves and tangled his fingers in my hair which kept me as close as possible as he took my breath away.

When he pulled back my breath was laboured, my eyes flickered to his lips that were now slightly red from our kiss. When I looked back up at his eyes he was already staring at mine, he leaned in again which sent a wave of excitement through my body. No, my soul. Every possible moment, every possible second that passes makes me crave being under-

His phone rang.

“Um…” I cleared my throat, suddenly coming out of my lustful daze. He shook his head and ended the call, he smiled at me and leaned in again. The same feeling bubbled up inside me again, I gripped the front of his shirt and this time leaned in with him. Our lips connected again, his hand moving to the nape of my neck-

His phone rang again. He growled, ripping his phone out of his pocket and answering.

“What the hell Stiles?” His face changed at once as he listened to the kid, his hand on my waist tightening a bit. He ended the call.

“It’s Scott.”

To be continued…

#derek hale #teen wolf #derek hale x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf season 4

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iheartgarrus · 7 months

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N7 Month Day 8: Crash

(AO3 Link - Yes, yes, I'm very behind. In this one, Tali gets a strange visitor. Necessary context: This is an AU in which the quarians didn't create the geth and never left Rannoch. The First Contact War/Relay 314 Incident is happening, unbeknownst to the rest of the galaxy.)

Tali was just getting cozy on her couch with a cup of tea and a new asari rom-com when a crash sounded outside her back window. She bolted upright and turned around, brow furrowing. It was too loud to be some kid playing with a drone, and besides, she didn’t have any close neighbors. So what could it be?

She set her tea down and headed for the back door, not even thinking to grab her face scarf, and what she saw when she stepped outside made her stop short.

It was a ship - that much was clear. A small one, likely only meant to hold a pilot and maybe a little cargo, but she didn’t recognize the design as belonging to any race in the Milky Way. Tali wondered for a moment if she should call someone (who, she had no clue), but the thought that whoever was piloting that ship could be injured propelled her forward.

(After a couple of steps, she backtracked and grabbed her shotgun.)

When she was standing alongside the ship, she hesitated, uncertain what the right move was. The viewport was tinted, but she thought she could see a figure moving inside. She searched for some kind of latch she could open, but generally ships weren’t meant to be manually opened from the outside. In the end, feeling more than a little awkward, she knocked on the hatch. “Hello? Do you… need help?”

A few moments passed, then Tali jumped back as the hatch opened with a hiss, revealing an alien she’d never seen before. They were bulky, not quite like a krogan but more so than any quarian she knew. Brown skin and dark… fur? On their head, thicker down the middle. They were wearing navy blue armor, which may have added to their bulk, but she didn’t suspect it was by much. Their facial features reminded her of an asari, though a bit rougher.

As she finished her quick survey of the alien, she realized they were talking to her. She couldn’t understand a word they said, but she did recognize their hands above their head in a universal gesture of surrender and the way their eyes focused on her shotgun. In her shock, she’d forgotten she was holding it. Smart. If they meant her harm, she’d probably be dead right now.

The thought actually comforted her a little. As first contact situations went, this could be worse.

“Are you hurt?” she asked before immediately feeling silly. If she couldn’t understand them, odds were they couldn’t understand her either.

Taking a chance, she held her gun with one hand and pointed it at the ground, holding out her free hand in greeting.

Their facial expression changed into what would’ve been a smile on an asari, and they spoke again, grasping her hand instead of her forearm - well, close enough, she figured.

“Are you-“ she started again, then stopped and tried to think of another way to communicate her question. Before she had the chance, the alien winced and reached for their side. It was only then that she noticed the small bits of shrapnel sticking out of their armor and the dark stain surrounding them. "Oh," she gasped. "You need medi-gel." Before she could think better of it, she made a beckoning motion and pointed at her house, inviting them inside. "Come on, then."

#mass effect #james vega #tali'zorah vas normandy #or i guess vas rannoch in this case #n7month #n7 month 2023 #jali #fanfic #my work

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thevoidcannotbefilled · 10 months

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The Void Says Hello by Luna Gale

(Trigger warnings: dissociation, isolation, suicidal ideation, non-explicit/supernatural suicide)

Summary: This is how I became the visitor in your window.

It started the same for both of us. Someone knocked on our windows and we didn’t want to say no.

Well, that’s not exactly true. To say it was the start ignores the context to why we don’t say no, but to say this isn’t the start ignores the beginning of this beginning. We are all made of different entrances and exits. Where we start largely is retrospectively obvious while the end never seems to ever want to show itself even when it’s clear, there’s nothing more to gain.

For me, my start was as a child.

I don’t remember much of my childhood, but I remember the windows. Ironically enough I used to be terrified of what could come out of my window. Many children fear the monsters under their bed or the ones in the corners or the closet, not me. I was a practical kid. I knew nothing could be in my room if it wasn’t already there. Then why fear the shadows on the walls that moved and twisted if I knew that it was only the trick of the light and my fan that would cause them to move?

My window however. Oh my window. Growing up I lived on the bottom floor of a house. The only thing protecting me from the outside world was a wee-little bush, the easily broken glass, and the weak lock holding it in place. At first, I didn’t think much of the window. Perhaps a little cautious, but if I slept facing away from the glass, not a single thought of the outside would follow me into my dreams.

Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately, I watched a late night crime show with my parents. Enough said there. If that didn’t solidify it enough, there was a cartoon when I was younger. I forget the name, but I remember the monster. A wide thing that destroyed the ground as it moved, made of darkness and void and nothing at all. For all that you could see it, nothing could stop it from punching holes into walls by simply wanting to move through it.

Yes, from then on, I was terrified of the outside. My window was an invitation, for many its simple existence would be an opportunity to hurt me.

In a way the window was also my protection. From then on, I slept facing it. That may seem strange, why face fear if you just ignore it? Not acknowledge the lurking creatures that could come from the darkness? If it were so simple to forget, I would have. But you can not forget the window in your room as much as you could forget the creatures you know that could be there. If I tried to sleep below it, the fear compounded inside. At night, I could feel the hands of robbers at my throat, the claws of monsters ready to slice my neck, or even simply, a misplaced rock being thrown into my window and just happening to land on my sleeping face.

If I faced the window, I could see the intruders. If a robber were to arrive or a monster try to barrel its way into my home, I could slip and roll away from the bed before their hands could grab me. As for the rock, well, if I could see where the noises happened, I could stop anyone from hurting me before it was too late.

Of course, this did nothing if I was asleep. I knew this, even at the time. But facing the large window helped me rest, so despite the illogical circumstances, that was enough.

Such was my beginning. I grew out of this habit, of course. My next room, my bed was beside the window and that was that. Sometimes tree branches would tap at the glass, but considering my childhood fear that felt more like a running joke between the universe and I than anything.

Did you have something like this? Did the windows ever call to you before now? I wonder if it’s all of us, or if it’s just me who knew the dichotomy of them before they knocked.

I didn’t know the full truth for many years. My memory is faulty but I know I grew. A child into a teenager into an adult. I had many fractured parts of me become what the world called a person. I went to university. I got a job. An apartment.

With how small my apartment was, my bed settled against the side with the window.

I had everything to what many would call a fulfilling life. I had a career and a clear shot to happiness. Money. Because that’s what happiness is isn’t it? At the end of the day? Money to move, money to live, money to have time and experience reality. Money lets you nurture the fractured ends of yourself who loves art but can’t afford supplies, who wants a wedding but does not have the time to love, who wants the world but does not have means to visit it.

I know many disagree. I’m not even sure I agreed at the time. I had hope that the world would fulfill its promises to make me whole.

But you work and you work. The only constant is that and a home. You sleep under the window where the branch goes tap tap and wake to an alarm that tells you that your dreams are gone. You’ve moved away from your friends and family. They haven’t called in days, weeks, months. You text to tell them you’re coming back, and no one answers until you can’t get the days off from the shackles you’ve tied yourself to.

The parts of you that are art and love and want, decay. You must rebuild to retain them. But is there time when there’s only exhaustion left in you? Is there even a place for you to make your garden when you know nothing of the soil and the people are nothing but aliens to you?

There were nights I would simply stare at the white popcorn ceiling. Even my dreams had felt sour, in reality’s light. If I didn’t go to sleep it meant the morning wouldn’t arrive as quickly. I could keep to myself in the darkness where I could simply be without judgment.

That’s when the knocking started.

The branch had been familiar at this point. A little tap tap on windy days and nights that said hello to me on the second floor. No one else had this tree at this time, and it was never loud enough to wake me. So when the knocking started, I knew it was different. As I stared at the ceiling, ready for sleep to force me under, I heard it.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock.

It was particular. A rapping difficult for someone inhuman to replicate.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock.

Someone was saying hello. They wanted into my second story window.

The first time I heard it, I froze. The first sets of raps felt like a coincidence but the second? I had to know what could make that noise. Did a bird somehow make its way to the latent branch and try to drill through my window? Was it a lost window washer wanting to start a conspiracy with me against the complex? Did a robber want to steal my things, but decided to be polite about it? Or even better, did someone secretly need my help and their only escape was between me and my window?

Notably I hadn’t been sleeping well the past week and maybe I was open to feeling much more wonder than usual.

It goes to show my disappointment when I opened the curtain and there was nothing there except the darkness and my friendly branch.

That night I slept with the curtain open and facing the window. If there was anything there I would face it. Easy at that.

The knocking came back three nights later, as did the dropping disappointment when nothing revealed itself. Was there something I’m missing? Did my tree friend gain someone new in its branches when I wasn’t looking? Worse, was it all in my head? Or in a vile sense, was someone playing a prank and the landlord hid a camera to watch me lose hope again and again. That something was there. That they wanted me to see them.

You understand, right? Why I needed to believe in the knocking. I know you do. That means you also understand when I figured it out.

When I was a child, I feared the outside world and what it could bring. If I faced my fear then I was prepared to leave. That’s it. The knowledge wasn’t for the sake of knowing or understanding, but rather to escape what the outside wanted from me.

If I faced the window then it knew I wanted to know more than I wanted to understand it. If I didn’t face the window, maybe then, maybe-

In this time, the parts of me I was building were also falling apart. I was work and darkness and the former kept losing its luster. It wasn’t that there, wasn't anything new, but rather there was nothing at all. When I worked, I knew I was creating building blocks for another future, for another me. One that was happy and ready to face another work another day another art another person another world.

The gradual aspects of another something built up in my mind. I had to ask myself, is this worth it? Is the me that is me now going to be someone I want to be? If I stopped working now and went home, would there be anyone left to pick up the rotten pieces of work and decay? Would there be anyone that would understand the me that stared into the ceiling just to hear the friendly knocking that was just for me?

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock.

Again.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock.

Did I want to be someone else? Or did I just want to be here, knowing a friend wanted me. Wanted to let them in and accept them, despite the fear.

I was afraid through all this. I speak fondly of it now, but how could a person who was not yet darkness not be afraid? How could I not think it was just tormenting me? Distracting me in the night when all I needed was sleep?

For a few nights, I slept in the living room to escape it. It worked. When I went back into my room after, I almost sobbed when it didn’t wake me the next day.

I did cry when I went home that evening because nothing out there filled the void sleep had given me.

I wanted to be something. Not this fractured thing that needed sleep and acceptance and love to feel good. I wanted more than money and work to exist. What are what-if’s to someone who is nothing but pieces they already despise or broke? Who was I but a thing pretending to be a person? A potential that hated that they were not yet manifested?

It was then, a month since the knocking started, that I got a call the next day into my boss’s office. They told me I wasn’t good enough. If I didn’t improve, they would have to let me go.

I remember nodding and nodding and nodding. By the time I arrived home, what I was agreeing to changed.

That night I faced away from the window. I didn’t stare at the ceiling, or anything at all. The moon was covered by a layer of clouds, so it was only me and the darkness so thick if I moved if it was tangible.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock. The window said at one point in the night.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock. I said back.

A pause between us, an understanding from them.

Knock. Knock knock. The window said as it creaked open. Knock. Knock knock, even as I saw nothing except darkness.

Knock. Knock knock. It said against my head. There was no breath. No hands. Just noise.

Knock. Knock knock. It said as it covered me.

Knock. Knock knock. Said my heartbeat in reply.

It asked me once just once, if I wanted this. In a voice that wasn’t a person and only the voice of the trees that tapped in the darkness, the wind that rattled the doors, in the shattering of glass, in screams of those who were taken in the night. It asked me if I wanted to be these things. To be the knocking that asked others to be like it. To be nothing and know exactly what you are.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock. Knock Knock.

Knock.

I said yes.

Then I was nothing.

Painfully, wonderfully nothing.

I exist only in special circumstances. To knock on doors and windows big and small. If someone turns to me and acknowledges the sound, they must know to tell me to go away. Then, I will be nothing but wind and branches. I will be darkness with no consciousness and nothing more.

But if you don’t say no, I will stay. Stay and knock and keep knocking until you either invite me in or tell me to go away.

I am nothing and everything and all things small and scary in the dark. I am not a fractured person but rather a creature that only exists when needed. To be a home and a person and a concept means you are always something when you exist and blissfully quiet when you don’t.

There is nothing to lose by accepting. You will forget the parts of you that cared. You will become a full idea not burdened by the universe. All you need to do is say yes.

So, will you accept this? This invitation? You’ve listened to me and I heard you knocking back.

Just say yes, and it will all go away. The hurt of existence, and you will be something new and manifested.

…

No? Okay.

Okay.

That’s okay. Truly. Truly it is.

I’ll be back if you change your mind. Don’t worry. I come to those akin to me. Those who see the nothing and see a friend. Who see the future and see rot. The world may change and fracture, but I will not.

I will never break again.

And I’ll make sure, if you break too, I’ll be here to take the pieces that are left.

So, as sad as I am to go, it’s only goodbye for now, friend. You know where to see me again when the darkness calls and you have nothing else to fill your void.

#the void writes #the amazing written word #dissociation #indirect death #isolation #og void stories

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