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ren1327 · 11 months

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Dance of Death (A Varigo fanfic)

Rated: T

TW: Death

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He had no way of knowing who the figure in the graveyard dressed in black was.

He stood alone, so still in his cloak, Hugo believed him one of the beautiful carved seraphim, keeping watch over the buried. It wasn’t until his head tilted up that Hugo saw the beautiful sun kissed skin, soft freckled cheeks, and eyes that reminded him of foggy autumn afternoons.

Those eyes suddenly moved to him, and he stood up straight.

He gave a casual wave and held his rake up a bit.

‘How creepy.’ He thought. ‘Imagine coming to grieve and being gawked out by a lowly thief trying to finish up his community service to avoid the judge and noose…’

The sad eyed man turned, Hugo seeing a streak of blue that oddly seemed to shimmer as if it were alight…and then looked up at the sky.

A crash of lightning made Hugo drop his rake, and he bent to pick it up as a downpour started. He looked around.

The man was gone.

A week passed, and another funeral had taken place, and Hugo saw the man again.

The village had gathered to see an elderly man put to rest, his shell shocked wife sitting on a stool as their friends mourned the man joining their long past children. They had survived the cholera outbreak only to be lonely in the end.

Hugo watched, and when he looked from the preacher to the widow, he saw the man. He had a hand on the woman’s shoulder, and she sobbed into a handkerchief, yet…smiled softly…

Three days later, the family plot was completed.

The widow in her finely carved coffin now next to her beloved husband and youngest child.

Hugo was unsettled seeing the man there again and saw he was solemnly looking at the headstones.

It started raining, and soon the crowd dispersed, leaving the man as Hugo and the undertaker smoothed the newly filled mud on the coffin. Hugo grabbed an umbrella and walked to the man, holding it over him.

The man looked up, and Hugo felt his breath catch in his throat, painfully so.

“You’re drenched, Sir.” he said softly.

The man looked at him.

“Sir?” Hugo asked. “Were you…familiar with the widow?”

The man shook his head.

“No. New friends.” He said, voice sad and flat.

It was like fragrant smoke of an opium den.

“I’m sorry you lost them so soon.” Hugo murmured, reaching out a hand.

“I have not lost them.” He said, causing Hugo to freeze. “Please be careful…keep your hands and mouth clean…avoid the water.”

“What?” Hugo asked softly, stepping back.

“Be safe, Hugo.” He whispered and walked away into the rainy streets.

Leaving Hugo wondering how the man knew his name.

“Death walks among us!” A drunken man screamed into his face.

Cyrus grabbed and threw him back into a table of rowdy men, making a path for Hugo to walk out of the tavern.

“I’m leaving this fucking village.” Cyrus whispered. “Going to try France.”

“She is buried here.” Hugo said sullenly.

“Come with me, Hugo.” Cyrus sighed. “A fresh start in the country. Away from all this…mess.”

“I can’t leave her.” He said as they walked through the muddy road, boots becoming heavy from water and muck. “Fuckin’ rain.”

“Hugo.” Cyrus whispered. “Please. Something is…wrong here. It feels like this village is…dying. In more ways than one.”

“Go, Cyrus.” He said softly.

The larger man, who watched over him since he was a boy, stood still, like a pillar of stone as he looked down at the blond gravedigger. Water dripped down his face and beard as his eyes seemed to spark with both regret and fear.

“You needn’t watch me all my life, Cyrus. Give me some time, send me some letters and perhaps…I’ll join you.”

“Keep my cottage then.” Cyrus sighed. “I leave tomorrow morning.”

The rain paused, and they both looked up to see the clouds thin, the full moon blessing them with more than dirty lamp light.

Cyrus huffed with a smile and tilted his head at Hugo, a silent farewell.

Hugo nodded and separated from his friend, heading to the graveyard. He nicked some flowers from a gated garden and found the tombstone of his adoptive mother.

“You’re staying?”

Hugo gasped and dropped the flowers.

The man was there again, perched on the stone wall, hair damp from the storm above them. He had one foot on the wall, leaning an arm on his knee as he looked down at Hugo.

“Staying?” Hugo asked.

“It’d be safer in France for you.”

“You said avoid water—wait!” He glared at him. “How the hell do you know about France?”

“…”

“Who are you?” Hugo huffed. “You fancy a roll in the sheets or something?”

“…I’ve been watching you for a long time.” He said slowly, softly. “You were supposed to be one of mine when you were younger. But someone saved you. I can't be cheated. So she made a deal with me. She would give me her life for yours. But you still keep coming up in my ledger…”

“Ledger…death…Are you…the Reaper?”

“One, yes.” He said. “You were supposed to die twenty years ago.”

“And now you follow me?” Hugo asked. “Why? Why not just take me?”

“I don’t know.” He said as the rain started again.

They stood silently as they slowly soaked, hair slicking against pale skin.

“…does Death have a name?” Hugo asked.

“A name before death, I suppose.”

“May I know it?” Hugo asked. “Or will it bind me to you?”

“All are bound to me. You’re special.”

Hugo blushed at this.

“What is your name?”

“…Varian.”

Hugo held out a hand, and Varian stared down at him.

“To touch death is everlasting.”

Hugo slowly put his hand down. He looked down at the flowers pelted by rain.

“Tell me about her?” Varian asked.

Hugo smiled and jumped up to sit on the wall, the rain not as cold now.

Winter was fast approaching.

“The rains drowned out your food.” Varian said as Hugo placed paper flowers on Donella’s damp grave.

“I can fish.” Hugo said.

“The rivers will run dry and lake freeze.”

“And you said stay away from the water.” Hugo sighed.

“You should leave. Like your friend did.”

“I can't leave her. Or you.”

“Stop that.” Varian huffed, looking away into the horizon.

Hugo laughed, glad to know he was the only one able to pull any other emotion from Varian than his constant sorrow.

“What happens when I die?” He asked. “Do I not get to see you again?”

“…you should pass on.” He said.

“Do I have to?” He asked with a playful smile.

“Stop that.” He said again.

“Well?”

“As I said, it’s everlasting.” He muttered, starting to walk along the stone wall.

He stopped when he heard a violin playing joyfully, the square illuminated as people danced and shared what food they had.

Hugo walked up to him, keeping a respectful distance.

“Ah, a wedding.” Hugo hummed, noticing Varian sway gently with the music.

He smiled softly.

The last few months had easily been the most peaceful of his life. His chats with Varian, he man watching him from atop a roof or wall or even tree, trying to keep Hugo far away. The very few times they stood next to each other, Hugo could see every muscle tense, and his eyes kept flicking towards him.

“Tell me, oh Death…” He crooned. “Have you ever danced?”

He held out a hand, and Varian took a wide step away.

“To dance with death leaves two sets of footprints and one body…” He hummed. “So no, Hugo. I have not.”

“You tempt me, Blue Eyed Death…” He said and stood tall before bowing. “To be your first and last.”

He pulled a scarf from around his neck and held one end, tossing the other to flop on Varian’s head.

Varian looked at him with wide-eyed indignation, then blinked as he held the other end.

Hugo held his side and walked in a wide circle around Varian, his free hand behind his back as Varian walked the same direction, starting an odd waltz between them, phantom touches from a distance, Varian smiling wider and wider with each twirl. His free hand came up in an arch as he copied Hugo’s elegant steps.

“Where does a thief and gravedigger learn to dance as a nobleman?” He asked.

“I could ask the same of death.” Hugo teased.

“I watch.” He said. “All I can do is watch before…”

“Before?”

“I can be freed and return into the cycle of new life…”

“Then bless the woman’s resting place we meet at. My mother wanted me to be more. And dance was one of our favorite lessons.”

“This song…I know it by heart.”

“It is your song, Dear Death…” Hugo said. “Of your power and one that reminds us to live. For we all touch your hand.”

Varian twirled with the swell of the violin as an orchestra seemed to surround them, Hugo being taken aback by his beauty and releasing the scarf to watch the man spin again, cloak lifting to show simple brown pants, a blue shirt and apron around his waist with a familiar mask that reminded him of a bird.

“…You were a doctor?” He asked.

Varian froze, and his cloak fell.

“No…I…I must go.” He said and walked behind a tree, Hugo rushing after him only to see the scarf on a branch.

Hugo was surprised he hadn’t broken his neck as he sawed into the lake. The ice was slippery, but he was desperate, and the ground was too cold to dig into for work. He rubbed his hands together as he stabbed into it from the safety of the bank.

He looked around.

Still alone.

Hugo huffed.

He’d write Cyrus. Ask for a loan to help him travel to France. Perhaps winters were warmer in the cities.

There was a crack and he smiled when he saw movement under the ice.

But not from him…

“Maggie!” A child called.

Hugo saw a girl crawling slowly over ice, a basket of what looked carrots and turnips within reach of her little dirt caked hands as she reached out desperately for the food that had defied nature.

However…she was near the mouth of the lake where a rotting wooden dam barely kept the water from running into the creek, the ice much thinner.

“I almost got it…” She called to her sibling on the bank.

Hugo heard a deafening crack and grabbed his scarf, rushing to the other child and watching the girl as she grabbed the basket and smiled, Hugo dismayed as she centered her weight and stood on her knees.

“Girl!” He yelled. “Don’t move!”

She froze, and he grabbed the side of the wooden bridge, edging himself on the ice to get to her, the bridge rising until he held himself up with one hand. He grimaced at the spiderwebs of cracks under himself, forming and traveling to the girl’s own, tossing the end of the scarf to the girl, who caught it as if on a reflex. He didn’t have long.

If the webs met, the ice would break, and she would be lost to the cold water below.

“Hold on tight, do not let go.” He said.

“Maggie!” A woman yelled and ran to the bridge, unable to reach the child from the height. She waved a few exhausted woodsmen over. “Rope! Hurry!”

Hugo inched back a bit and brought the girl slowly towards the bridge. The scarf thinned, and he heard soft tearing as a man tossed a rope to Hugo.

Hugo put the scarf in his teeth and brought both shaking hands down to make a large noose. He held it up so the girl could see it and motioned for her to put it over her head and around her waist.

She nodded, and Hugo tossed it as the ice splintered and he saw her tip. He yanked her forward with the scarf and threw the rope the rest of the way down her body, yanking it to tighten it and place her hands on it before wrapping the scarf under her arms above the knot, the men pulling it up. The girl sat as if on a swing, rope under her bottom and scarf holding her torso up. She yelped as she was lifted clear off the ice…

Before it broke and Hugo fell into the icy waters below.

Hugo felt his body seize up from the cold. He closed his eyes, preparing for oblivion…

Only to feel someone take his hand.

He opened his eyes weakly to see sad blue eyes as Varian held him and pulled him close, looking up into his eyes. Hugo used what strength he had to pull him close into an embrace, warmth oddly enough seeping into his flesh as he sank.

Begging the almighty and universe...he would see those blue eyes again.

“Jeezus it’s cold!” A girl hissed.

“Well, yeah.” Her partner said. “This place is known for tragic winters…before all the renovations and electricity and central heat…”

“And the Tesco…”

“And…and the Tesco.” Amber said. “But this is where some of my ancestors lived and died!”

“…Morbid.” Her girlfriend Nuru said with a smile.

“Oh, come on, my great great…not doing that, ancestor V. Ruddiger was a chemist who tried to create new medicines…but he got sick and died himself…” She said, wrinkling her nose. “He was the only one to be born and dead here now that I think about it…But there’s a cabin on our families name that’s been passed down! My cousin lives there.”

They walked over the stone bridge with a plaque on it.

“Gravedigger’s Bridge?”

“Yeah, a thief turned gravedigger turned hero.” Amber said. “He saved this little girl that went on to be a famous writer with her sibling. Wrote one of the first sapphic romances with a werewolf.”

“No way!” Nuru chuckled. “Wait, the one that’s being turned into a play?”

“See?! This town is so cool!”

They heard music and saw a pretty cabin, a bigger modern house behind it where two men were dancing together in a waltz on a wooden patio overlooking the lake, a speaker on a table near the open back door.

“Are you seeing—”

“That’s Varian and his fiancé, Hugo.” Amber said with a chuckle. “They love dancing together despite being STEM nerds.”

“I know that song…” Nuru said.

“Yeah.” Amber hummed as they paused to watch the men twirl together.

They seemed unable to let each other go, both wearing matching green and blue scarves and smiling despite the autumn chill. They twirled to the violins and flutes, eyes locked and cheeks flushed happily.

Amber sighed wistfully as her cousin and his lover danced, connected as if they had been for centuries instead of the three years they had officially met. Hearts like puzzle pieces coming together, Varian’s father had put it.

They swayed a bit to the music.

Nuru looked away as they saw Varian dipping Hugo to kiss him as the song hit it’s crescendo.

“My cousin is a bit more morbid than I am considering they want to dance to this at their wedding.”

“Why?” Nuru asked. “They look so in love. How can this song…their song, I’m assuming, be morbid?”

“It’s called Danse Macabre.”

#varigo fic #varigo

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whimsyvixen · 3 years

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SCREAM SMUT DRABBLE AND DOODLE 18+ (Billy Loomis x Reader)

WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, extremely dubious consent, dacryphilia, blood kink, choking, art doodle.

⚠️ READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. ⚠️

This has previously been posted on my AO3 account. @yoce-chan this was for you honey!

The house was a blood bath.

Bodies were strewn across the floor, butchered and carved sadistically. The agonized and glassy eyed expression on the victims' faces forever imprinted in your mind.

They were the people your friend had invited over to her house for some beers that afternoon. You remember plastering a fake smile when you greeted them at the front door, upset that your friend failed to mention she would have company while you were there. Feeling completely out of place, you soon left before things started to get rowdy, excusing yourself from the group and heading over to the guest bedroom. Hearing the drunken laughs and music turn up through the door, you wore your noise cancelling headphones and decided to take a light nap.

It was almost two in the morning when you woke up, groggily getting up to realize you had slept for longer than you thought. Feeling thirsty, you headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. You had barely taken a sip when you turned to the living room and found the butchered bodies splayed across the furniture and floor.

The bottle of water fell from your hand, your mouth trembling as you walked over to see the carnage. You sobbed as you realized your friend was amongst them, an ugly gash across her neck revealing how she was killed. Too lost in your grief, you had no time to react when someone came up from behind you and dragged your flailing body away from the horrific scene.

They dragged you up the stairs, hissing when you dug your nails into their arm and kicked their shins. They twisted your hair to the side and bit your neck angrily in response, causing you to wail in distress. You stopped struggling then, afraid of experiencing more pain if you continued to resist.

Hearing a door getting kicked open, you were thrown unceremoniously on the floor. Groaning at the slight pain on your side, you scrambled to right yourself and looked back to see a man by the door. Hearing the click of the door being locked, you froze as the man slowly turned towards you.

"B...Billy?" Sure enough, the cute guy in school that made you blush was six feet in front of you. You lay on the floor stunned, eyes zoning in on his blood-drenched clothing and the knife on his hand. This couldn't be true. There was no way he could be responsible for this horrible massacre.

The man in question gave you a lop sided smile, not fazed by your distraught expression or the blood covering him from head to toe. "Where were you hiding, princess?"

"What.. D-did yo-why are you...?" You fumbled over your words, your heart racing in your chest as Billy brought the knife to his mouth and gave it a sensual lick. Not once did he stop looking away from you, his pupils seeming to dilate as he scanned you head to bottom.

"You're the last one, baby." Billy took a step towards you, a thrill running down his spine when you crawled away from him with a frightened whimper. "Awww, don't run from me, baby. Don't you want to play a little game with me? I promise I'll be gentle with you." He spoke so sweetly, you would have believed him if not for the blood on him.

"Please...! I-I won't tell anyone, I promise!" When you felt your back hit the mirror on the wall, you began to sob. "Please believe me! I don't want to d-die! I'll do anything just please...! Let me live!"

Seeing his bloody hand reach for you, you made to jerk away only to have him fist your hair and yank you up from the ground. You cried out at the pain in your scalp, grabbing onto his wrist to try to dislodge yourself from his grip. Feeling the sharp edge of the knife on your neck made you freeze, your breathing quickening as you paled in terror. "Please..." Your bloodshot eyes meet his gleaming ones, supplication clear in your gaze as you prayed he had mercy on you and let you go.

Billy was having fun with your petrified form. Not any of the other victims had such an expressive state as you in this moment. Releasing your hair, he slammed you on the wall pulling the knife back, ready to plunge it into your chest. He wanted to imprint the beautiful fear on your face to his mind when he dealt the killing blow, but your words made him pause.

Anything he wanted? His eyes skimmed down your body, taking in your ample bosom and the flare of your hips.

While Billy was no stranger to sex, he often had to hold back at his partners' requests. It aggravated him that they couldn't handle a little pain and often scolded him for being rough with them. Now here you were, desperate to survive by any means necessary, telling him you would do anything he wanted.

"Careful," he purred before brushing his soft lips against your cheek, inciting a gasp from you, "You sure you want to be telling me that? Anything I want?" Your eyes were too busy trained on the hand gripping the knife to see him lick his upper lip in excitement. He squeezed your cheeks in his hand and forced you to look up at him. "Let's see how far you're willing to go before you regret those words."

To your relief, Billy dropped the knife. You let out a sigh as you thanked whatever god was out there that you weren't dead. Now came the hard part. You hadn't really thought things through when you blurted whatever words to impede your death. Luckily for you (or rather unlucky), Billy helped you out by turning your body around and bending you in front of the floor mirror.

Slightly disoriented form the spin, you stared at your reflection, alarm clear in your eyes as you looked at him in the mirror. "Just what are yo-"

Before you could finish, Billy had gripped your shirt in his fists before tearing it away like paper. You gasped in shock. It wasn't until he went for your shorts that you realized what was happening.

"Hey! W-wait a minut-NO!" You thrashed violently, tilting your body back to kick and scratch at him. Your attempts to hurt him were futile as Billy gripped your failing hands by your wrists and backhanded you sharply. You let out a cry, the pain in your cheek burning.

"Oh, what's with that look? You told me I could do whatever I wanted, no?" Billy gripped a breast in his hand, pulling at the nipple. "And that is exactly what is going to happen."

With that, he slammed you back into your previous position with your face against the mirror.

When you felt him tug down your shorts and your panties with them, you shut your legs tightly not letting them go past your thighs. Billy's eyebrow rose in irritation, eyes trying to meet yours through the mirror but you had your eyes closed.

Your eyes were forced open when you felt a stinging pain on your ass. You stared at him incredulously, shocked that he had slapped you in such a way.

"I'll make this simple enough for your little head to understand." He pressed his bulge against your backside, rocking against you before bringing a hand to your tummy. "It's either this or I gut you open. You decide, sweetheart."

#slasher x reader #slasher x reader smut #slightly not safe for work #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #female reader #not sure if I should continue this #wrote this out of a whim really #twitter friend gave me the idea and I love her for it #dark smut

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lemonjoonah · 3 years

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The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?” You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.” The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry. “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head. “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose? “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside. Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a warm and earthy scent envelopes you. His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel. Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid. “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin. “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod. A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth. He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts. And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom. A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

#jungkook smut #hybrid jungkook #bts hybrid au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts the garden thief #bts smut #jungkook x reader

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shootingstarwritings · 3 years

Text

Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way.

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.

#male possession #jock possession #possession #male body possession #slime possession

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talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

Good Morning Indeed

absolutely no plot whatsoever, just a bit of husband and dad harry in the midst of the family’s morning chaos 😂

Harry

“Go get the condom on.”

“I’ll pull out, I promise.”

“Your pull out game is weak.”

“Oi, them’s fightin’ words.”

“There’s a reason we’ve got six kids.” Says the missus with a roll of those pretty—but sometimes deadly (please don’t tell her I said this)—eyes. “‘Sides, I’ve just changed the sheets yesterday. You are not coming on the sodding sheets.”

“Fine,” I sigh and reach down to the bedside table. Why is the drawer filled with sodding Duplo and those tiny, pricey Sylvanian Family bunnies? I’m guessing kid number two, three and four have something to do with that. A few more seconds of rummaging before I finally found my treasure in the very back of the drawer. I lay on my back as I sheath myself up, and seeing as I’m already here… might as well, right? I smirk at her as I say, “hop on then.”

“Fat chance that,” she mutters. “Do I have to take off my top?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, it’s cold, and I’m a considerate husband. “A flash will do. Just give me a visual.”

She rolls up my shirt that she wears to sleep, a really old white rolling stones t-shirt that has two holes and a loose thread hanging on for dear life from the hem. She looks homeless. Gorgeous homeless though.

“Nice,” I flash her a boyish grin, like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. “You’ve got great racks.”

“You’re just saying that…”

I know what she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror and I wish she could look at herself through my eyes.

“Hey, don’t you dare. My babies grew in that body, that’s everything.”

Her tender smile hits me right in the gut. “I love you.”

“Love me enough to ride me?” I say with a playful flick to one nipple.

“Nice try.”

“I love you,” I mutter near her mouth and give her a searing kiss. I run my tongue over her bottom lip, then I kiss her down her neck, her cleavage and her breasts. I slowly circle one nipple, and she giggles, knowing it’s a well-rehearsed move that is guaranteed to do what’s needed. See, her tits are kind of like start buttons. No matter the situation, a little attention to those bad boys switches things around real quick. Her head slams back against the pillow. And she moans, holding my head in place.

We’ve got ignition lads.

I nestle my body on top of hers, and there’s a bit of wayward angling and poking until I find my way inside of her. And then it’s on. Two bodies writhing on the bed. My hips rotate in long, slow circles.

“Bollocks!”

“What? The condom isn’t broken, is it?”

“No, it’s bin day. I forgot to take out the recycling bin.”

“S’fine, we’ve got time before the school run.”

The bin’s sorted, back to the shag…

I slide my hands under her, bringing us closer. Rocking us faster. My forehead hovers close to hers and I open my eyes so I can watch. What can I say? I’m greedy like that. I want to soak up every gasp, every flicker of pleasure across her face. Pleasure I’m giving her.

Her breathing changes. It turns panting and desperate, and I know she’s close. I move harder, grinding against her, inside her, with every forward push. Warms sparks tickle my spine and heat spreads down until every nerve in my body is shaking. I slam inside her, burying deep as her hips jerk upward. She spasms hard around me, gripping me tight.

I rock back my hips and pull almost all the way out, but then I freeze. Because a dreaded sound echoes across the room, grabbing our full attention. It’s coming from the baby monitor. It’s a rustling, the sound of cotton rubbing cotton. Like snipers in the jungle, we don’t move a muscle. We don’t say a word. We wait, until the rustling stops. And all is quiet again.

Too bad it’s not for long. Because two thrusts in, a light comes on in the landing. Followed by small footsteps heading down the stairs. Shit.

“Harry, just come already. They’ll all be up soon.”

“I’m close… don’t rush it, you’re scaring it away.”

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper.

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

The babies are starting to gather volume next door so I try to focus again. It only takes a few more thrusts before ecstasy wrecks my body, making me shudder. I press my lips against her neck as I come back down to earth. But I don’t move yet. I know we should get going because things are already chaotic outside our door, but I just don’t have the will yet. I’m considering going back to sleep for a minute or two. She won’t mind, will she? Well, I’m wrong. Because she proceeds to perform the move that seems to amuse every sodding woman on earth. And causes every man to squeal like a bloody pig. Without warning, she uses her powerful muscle to squeeze my extremely sensitive cock.

Girls, grab a piece of paper and write this down. I’m speaking on behalf of every man to walk on earth here; we hate that. We don’t think it’s funny.

I jerk back, pull out, and roll off her. I try to look annoyed as she giggles, and obviously I fail, because that freshly fucked, flushed-face makes it impossible not to grin back.

“CAN I HAVE JAFFA CAKE?” That’s Victoria, child number three. She’s five, and she’s yelling as she thunders up the stairs.

“JAFFA CAKE ISN’T BREAKFAST,” my wife shouts back as she sits up and hands me a nappy sack. “Harry…”

I wrap up the condom with it and toss it to the bin. “You’ve just taken me life force, woman, give me a moment.”

“CUSTARD CREAM?”

“NO.” We shout in unison.

“HOBNOB THEN?”

“STAY AWAY FROM THE BISCUIT TIN!”

“You want to wrestle a biscuit-hunting kid out of a cupboard and 50/50 bread drama or fussy babies with full nappies?”

“Babies.” I hear a small child get whacked by a sibling downstairs and I feel like I may have got the better deal here.

Next door, the twins are not happy. They’re six months old now, and they’re both teething. Thing one glares at me as I walk into their nursery and thing two stares at me stroppily from the corner of her cot. Their cheeks are scarlet, and thing one proceeds to bark at me like a seal. I pick his warm, sleepy, cuddly body and cradle it close to mine as I lay him down on the changing table. I smell the dampness. It’s definitely wee. He’s soaked through, I think I didn’t tuck his willy in when I last changed him around three in the morning so it sprayed in some upward motion and drenched his clothes. See, this is why girls are better than boys. There’s no way they can pee upwards.

After I put a fresh nappy and a change of clothes, I put him down on the rug so he can wiggle around while I grab his sister and sort her out. After six kids, I’m definitely a pro with baby duty and can practically change their clothes one-handed. The whole thing takes only a few minutes.

I cuddle the babies on each side as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. They immediately reach out to their mum who’s cracking some eggs as soon as they spot her, knowing she’s the only one who can cure their hunger this morning.

“Uniforms!” She says to the big kids as she takes one baby into her arms. “We’ll do breakfast after. Please, please, please…”

Desperate pleas lead them to saunter out and up the stairs. I follow my wife into the living room and hand her the other baby as she plops down on the couch. She rolls up her shirt and the babies latch instantly. Tandem nursing is harder now that they’re a little older and aware of their surroundings. They’re trying to scratch each other’s faces as they nurse. “Oi, what’s this? You each get a tit, stop fighting.”

They seem to somehow listen to me and have stopped trying to poke each other’s eyeballs. We’ll see how long that lasts. “Finish the eggs?”

I nod. “I’m on it.”

I brew some coffee, finish the scrambled eggs, and pop the slices after slices of bread in the toaster. Breakfast is done just in time as my wife walks back into the kitchen with two full and happy babies. She puts them in their high chairs and I scoop a bit of eggs on each of their trays for them to nibble on.

George appears back in the kitchen clad in his uniform with his also dressed brother trailing behind. We always lay his clothes the night before on his bed and he gets dressed all by himself in the morning. And he’s getting better at it, seeing he only missed a button on his shirt.

“Hi mate,” I say as I fix his button and he flashes a toothy grin at me. I plop him down on the chair, he’s graduated from the high chair now but still uses a booster seat.

“No toast!”

“What do you want then?”

“Chee-yos?”

I nod before I grab a handful of cheerios and set them on his plate next to his eggs. Then I take a few steps back across the table. “Hey, James, set it up.”

He flashes me another toothy grin before he opens his mouth wide and keeps it open. I hold a single Cheerio between my fingers while I bend my knees and bounce my hand as if I were dribbling a basketball. “Three seconds left on the clock, down by one. Styles got the ball. He fakes left, he drives in, he shoots…”

I toss the Cheerios in a high arc. It lands right into his mouth.

“He scores! The crowd goes wild!”

James holds both hands over his head. “Core!”

“Viv stole the biscuit tin, you know? She ate three jammie dodgers upstairs.” Eleanor says as she walks in with book bags and school shoes.

George, seeing his sister walks in, proceeds to open his mouth wide and flashes her the half-chewed eggs on his tongue. It’s his current thing and it annoys his sisters to death. The young’uns think differently though as they double over in laughter.

“Eeewww!” She shrieks. “You’re so gross!”

“VICTORIA, PUT THAT BISCUIT TIN DOWN AND GET YOUR BUTT IN THE KITCHEN! AND GO GET THEM HAIR TIE THINGIES…”

“I didn’t have any biscuits!” She yells and runs down the stairs.

This kid is the quintessential daddy’s girl. She climbs up onto my lap right away, handing me the brush and a hair tie.

“See, poppet, I would’ve believed you if you didn’t leave evidence all over your face,” I arch one of my eyebrows as I sweep a speck of raspberry jam on the corner of her mouth.

“You always do a ponytail,” she huffs.

“Either that or I give you a bowl cut with kitchen scissors. I reckon that fruit bowl will do. Your choice.”

“Can I have some more eggs?” George asks with his mouth full of his last bite.

“God, that’s like your third serving,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Nag.”

At that insult, Eleanor flings a piece of toast like a ninja. Before George can retaliate, my wife gives them both the look.

“Viv, will you at least have some eggs?”

“No.”

“Fine,” my wife sighs. “I’m gonna get changed then.”

I glance at the clock and, well, shit, I should get dressed too. “Can you lot watch the babies and try not to kill each other for the next five minutes?”

“Five quid each?” Eleanor tries to negotiate. “Babysitting isn’t supposed to be free, you know? That sounds like child labour to me.”

Bollocks.

“Two quid each,” I give her my dad look that says the offer is final and indisputable.

“Deal.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles #dad!harry #husband!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles one shot #the styles gang

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years

Text

Kisses

A/N: Okay, so let’s pretend that Bucky didn’t blip 😉 That is the job I am trusting you with as you read this, dear reader (especially during a certain part, but you’ll get there when you get there) Also, please ignore my lack of original concepts, as I am well aware that I used this similar concept for a Shawn fic a while back (I promise this version is quite different and much better written) Anyways, happy reading! :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem Avenger!Reader

Summary: Different types of kisses throughout you and Bucky’s relationship

Word Count: 4.3k+ (oof, much longer than I intended. Sorry, friends!)

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets stabbed, mentions of blood, mentions of pregnancy, (brief) mention of death (nobody actually dies)

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The First Kiss

It was quiet as the two of you walked down the hallway, save for the occasional sounds of Bucky’s boots scuffing on the linoleum. Whether it was because you didn’t want to wake up anyone else in the compound this late at night or because there was nothing left to say, you weren’t sure.

After months of longing looks and nervous conversations (and a bit of pushing from Steve), Bucky finally found the courage to ask you out on a date. He made it a whole ordeal, even bringing flowers when he asked if you wanted to grab some sandwiches from a nearby deli and eat them at the park. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting to hear those words for a while now and told him you’d be happy to. Your shy smile made Bucky’s insides melt and he found himself mirroring one back at you.

Now, your third date--a midnight hike through a trail you suggested--was coming to an end.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” Bucky broke the silence, chewing his lip nervously as he awaited your answer.

“Your room is right across the hall from mine. Aren’t you going that way anyways?” you giggled.

“Let me be a gentleman,” he insisted as you rounded the corner of the hallway that led to your rooms.

“I mean, how can I say no to that?”

“I don’t think you can.” His signature smirk and charm had you melting and you stared at the floor in hopes that he wouldn’t see the obvious ways he affected you.

The two of you arrived at your door almost too soon, and you found yourself wishing that your night together wasn’t over quite yet.

“I had a great time with you, Bucky.” You turned to fully face him, looking up shyly into his eyes.

He took one of your hands with his, bringing it up to his lips. “I did too, Y/N. We should do it again.”

“The date or getting eaten alive by mosquitoes?”

“The mosquitos were endearing but I was more so thinking of another date.”

“I’d like that.” You squeezed his hand before letting go, pushing your door open and taking a step forwards before Bucky’s hand grabbed your wrist. He gently spun you back towards him, his charm suddenly replaced by a more timid look.

“Um, can I . . . would you let me . . .” he glanced down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t respond, simply placing your free hand on his cheek and leaning towards him. His hands both went to wrap around your waist as your lips brushed and your other hand came to rest on his chest. The kiss was slow and soft. There was no need to rush as you stood there in the hallway at 1:45 in the morning, wrapped around each other like you couldn’t let go.

You finally broke away, feeling Bucky’s chest steadily rise beneath your palm as you calmed your own breathing. You tried to play it cool on the outside, though you were screaming with glee internally.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You slowly slipped out of his grasp, a twinkle in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Welcome Home Kiss

Your eyelids seemed to droop more by the second as you tried to keep yourself awake. The caffeine you had earlier could only do so much to curb the sleepiness that was settling in your bones. The fact that you were sitting in your bed at the moment probably wasn’t helping, but you were too tired to move.

Waiting up for Bucky seemed like a good idea until it was 2:30 in the morning and he still wasn’t back. He would probably scold you when he got back, saying how sleep deprivation didn’t look good on you, but you didn’t care. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a week and you missed him. If you had to pull an all-nighter to do so, so be it.

The sound of footsteps outside your door pulled you from your thoughts. It only took a second to recognize the familiar clunking of Bucky’s combat boots, causing you to perk up as you waited for him to peek into your room.

The footsteps paused outside your door for a moment and you held your breath in anticipation. The door didn’t open though, and the footsteps became fainter, presumably walking away from your room.

Does he think I’m asleep? You frowned. Usually, he at least opened the door to check in on you.

You pulled the blanket off your body, getting out of bed and padding out of your room towards Bucky’s. You did your best to stay quiet as you twisted the door knob in case he was already asleep. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pass out as soon as his head met the pillow after a mission. Lord knows he needed the rest.

You were met with an empty room when you peeked your head in. You almost left, assuming that your excited mind had been playing tricks on you, when you caught sight of light peeking out from beneath the bathroom door. A smile crept its way onto your face and you closed the door behind you, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for him to come out.

A few more minutes passed and you debated just letting yourself fall asleep there when the bathroom door swung open. Bucky stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that you had tried to steal on multiple occasions. He didn’t notice you until he was almost to his bed and lifted his gaze from the floor, jumping back with a “shit!” when he saw you.

“What are you doing up, doll?” he asked once he regained his composure.

“Waiting for you,” you replied simply, pulling him into a hug as soon as he sat down next to you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You pulled back just enough to press your lips against his, relishing the languid movements of his lips against yours at the absurd hour of the morning. His arms traveled down to your hips as yours moved to wrap around his neck.

“Welcome home, sergeant.”

The Fevered Forehead Kiss

You were burning up.

The sweat drenched shirt you were wearing was sticking to your body and the fact that Bucky, AKA: the walking furnace, was laying next to you, wasn’t helping in the slightest. His arm was slung over your back, which made your situation that much worse. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully: a rarity with him. Moving out of bed was sure to wake him up but you really needed to change your shirt.

You sighed, deciding that you needed to get into some dryer clothes if you had any hopes of falling back asleep before the sun rose. Prying yourself from Bucky’s grip as carefully as possible, you swung your feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. A wave of dizziness overcame you, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall. A quiet groan escaped your lips when the dizziness started getting worse rather than fading away. Your vision started to tunnel: a surefire sign that you were going to pass out.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and Bucky’s face came into view. He gently eased you back onto the bed, supporting your back as he layed you back down. You felt a hand brush over your cheek as the dizziness faded and your senses returned.

Bucky frowned at how warm your cheek felt beneath his touch. You were feeling a little warm when he carried you to bed after a group game night--of which you had fallen asleep halfway through--but he didn’t think much of it then. He smoothed some hair back from your forehead and rested his lips there to better judge your temperature.

“Shit, doll. You’re burning up,” he murmured.

“It’s really hot in here.” Sleep was clawing at you but you were uncomfortable beyond belief. “I need to change my shirt.”

Bucky silently helped you out of the shirt you were wearing, throwing it in the hamper before shuffling over to the dresser to get you another one. He grabbed the first one he saw, making his way back over to where you were laying and helping you into it.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed his lips to your forehead once more. “I’ll be right here.”

The “Shut Up!” Kiss

The Quinjet was filled with chatter as the team headed back to the compound after a successful mission. You managed to get the intel you needed and nobody got hurt in the process--well, nobody except you, but no one needed to know that.

You managed to get yourself stabbed in the right bicep when you were making your way back to the jet. It wasn’t horribly severe, it just hurt like a bitch. You were quick to take care of the Hydra agent and keep moving, knowing the team was going to want to get back to the compound as quickly as possible to celebrate. Missions without some kind of injury were a rarity with you guys.

You just assumed that you’d wait until you got to the compound and stitch yourself up there without anyone knowing. Seemed easy enough of a plan, right?

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said as he sat down in the seat to your left with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, babe.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the warmth radiating off of him.

“I’m so ready to get in bed.”

“You said it.”

You were able to block out the pain coming from your arm for a moment, allowing yourself to relax in your boyfriend’s presence instead. That was, until Bucky’s arm came up to wrap around your shoulders. You winced when his hand brushed over your wound, cursing internally when you felt him stiffen up next to you. Of course he was going to find out.

He pulled his hand back, seeing it covered in red. “Is that blood?”

“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now. You know what does matter? Getting to bed cause you look-” You sat up, rubbing your hand over the wound yourself, finding that there was significantly more blood there now than there was earlier.

“You are literally bleeding right now!” He raised his voice slightly and you glared at him, not wanting to draw attention to the situation.

“I know but-”

“I love you but if you shut the fuck up right now, Y/N-”

“Buck-”

Bucky grabbed your face, quickly bringing your lips to his. “You are going to stop talking and let me take care of this, okay? No ifs, ands, or buts. I don’t wanna hear ‘em.” His voice was stern but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” you sighed, dropping your eyes to your lap.

“Now let me see your arm so we can fix you up.”

The Top of the Head Kiss

“You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?” Bucky asked Steve as they sat in the kitchen. It was early on a Thursday morning, when everyone else was either asleep or doing an early morning workout. The two super soldiers had already finished their daily morning run and decided to enjoy a cup of coffee in the kitchen before the rest of the team showed up.

“Buck, I thought you were going to propose after the fifth date. You’ve been together for almost two years. I think it’s about time,” Steve answered with a chuckle, enjoying the bashful look on his best friend’s face.

“I just wanna do it right, you know?” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the right way to propose for what was probably the thousandth time. “I know she doesn’t want something that’s so romantic it’s cheesy but I want it to be special.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Steve patted Bucky’s arm as he got up to put his mug in the sink. “You know she’s going to say ‘yes’ no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just scary trying to-”

“Morning boys.” Your groggy voice rang through the kitchen, causing Steve and Bucky to immediately shut up.

“You’re up early, sweetheart,” Bucky commented as you made your way over to him.

“Thought I’d be productive today.” You ran a hand through his hair, still unruly from his run, before placing your lips on top of his head. “Whatcha’ guys talking about?”

Steve and Bucky shared a panicked look. “Uhh . . . super secret boy band stuff.” Bucky’s hands made their way to your hips, fingers messing with the hem of your shirt.

“Ohh, okay. Let me just grab my breakfast and then I’ll let you plan your little boyband stuff.” You ruffled Bucky’s hair and busied yourself with making a bagel, winking at him before leaving the kitchen.

“You better hurry up,” Steve chuckled. “Cause she’s gonna figure out what you’re doing soon if you don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m working on it.”

The Passionate Kiss

“I’m so hungry!” you complained as you took your suit off, having just returned from a mission. You weren’t able to eat lunch earlier and your stomach was making sure you knew just how much it did not appreciate that.

“We stocked up the fridge yesterday so you should be good to go,” Bucky said from his place on the edge of the bed. His eyes stayed glued on you as you slipped on a pair of shorts and one of his Henleys.

You smiled brightly at his words and made your way over to him, giving a quick peck to his temple and grabbing his hand. “Care to join me?”

“Course, doll.” He stood up and followed you out of your shared room, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side as you walked to the kitchen. Everything was going according to plan.

The mission you just came back from? It was fake. You didn’t know that of course, but Bucky had Steve and Tony help him set it up so he could get ready for what he was planning on doing tonight without you either finding out or getting overly suspicious. What was he planning on doing, exactly? Proposing. He was finally going to propose tonight.

You and Steve were sent out on an undercover “mission” in which you had to pretend to be a couple in order to attend a ball and gather intel on a possible new Hydra branch. Bucky wasn’t quite sure how Tony managed to set the whole thing up, but he decided not to bother himself with the logistics. There were more important issues at hand.

He patted his pocket as you parted from his side to grab plates. Yup, the ring was still there.

“Why don’t I get the plates and you grab what you want from the fridge, sweetheart?” he suggested.

“Oh no, I got the plates. You grab whatever you think is good. I’ll eat whatever.” You took two plates out of the cabinet and made your way to the table, your back to the fridge.

This is going to be harder than he anticipated.

In his debate to decide the perfect way to propose to you, Bucky somehow came to the conclusion that the best way to ask you to be his future wife was by spelling out “Will you marry me?” on the refrigerator with a bunch of magnets. A picture of the two of you from when you first started dating was placed next to it with a heart magnet, and Bucky was pretty proud of himself for the idea. He forgot, of course, that you could be a little oblivious sometimes when it came to noticing things.

No need to stress about it. She’ll notice eventually.

Bucky grabbed some things from the fridge, microwaving a few before bringing them over to the table and sitting down in the seat next to yours. “Bon appetit!”

“¡Muchas gracias, señor!” You smiled, already dumping a few things onto your plate and digging in.

“That was a completely different language,” he chuckled.

“And?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Tell me ‘bout the mission.”

“It was alright,” you said through a mouthful of food. You swallowed before continuing. “I don’t know why they sent Steve with me instead of you. You’d think that since we had to pretend to be a married couple, they’d have me go with my boyfriend.” Damn, Tony really didn’t try to be that subtle, did he?

“Yeah, strange . . .”

“Anyways, it was pretty easy. I didn’t even have to go to a debriefing!” You put some more food on your plate, noticing that Bucky had barely touched his. “You okay? You’ve hardly eaten.” You motioned towards his plate.

“Hmm? Oh, I ate before you got home so I’m not that hungry.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He ate, just not a lot to be considered a meal. Nerves.

“Uh huh.” You gave him a weird look as you took a bite of food. “You’re up to something.”

“Me? Up to something? Never.” He watched you finish your food and sit back with a satisfied groan.

“Okay, sure.” You gave him a playful glare as he took your plates and got up to put them in the sink. You grabbed the leftover food and containers, and put them in the sink, nudging Bucky’s hip with yours.

“You trying to start something, doll?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe I am.” You looked back at him, completely missing the colorful magnets on the fridge yet again as you opened it and put the food back inside. Your hand caught the ‘W’ when you tried to take your hand off of the refrigerator handle, causing it to fall off and clink on the ground.

“Ill you marry me?” you read off the fridge, a confused laugh escaping your mouth. “What?”

Bucky playfully shook his head. He walked over to you, picking up the fallen magnet and putting it back in its place. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you read the phrase again.

“Buck, are you being serious?” Your eyes lit up, though there was a hint of hesitance in your voice.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He pulled the black velvet case out of his pocket, getting down to one knee.

Your hand slapped over your mouth, trying to contain the squeal of joy threatening to jump out. “Bucky!”

He flipped the lid open. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

You bit your lips together, nodding your head vigorously. “Yeah. I think I’ll marry you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky stood up and you grabbed his face, crashing your lips onto his. It was messy but perfect for the moment. Your heart was beating a million times a minute but you paid it no mind as you tried to pull Bucky even closer.

“I love you,” you said once you pulled away for breath. Your eyes watered as you tried to keep tears from falling.

He leaned back in to slot his lips between yours again. “I love you too.”

The Relieved Kiss

Bucky wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when he rushed out with the team to find Captain Marvel lowering down a giant ship in front of the compound, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

He’d been a mess since Thanos snapped away half the universe. Unbeknownst to him, you were up in space when the battle happened, leaving him to assume that you had dusted away with the millions of others and left him behind to pick himself up.

While Bucky suffered in his own personal hell down on Earth, you were stranded in a broken spaceship with Tony and Nebula. Up until your rescue, you were sure that you were going to die up there, staring into the void of space. You recorded a message for Bucky after Tony recorded his for Pepper in hopes that it would someday make it back to him. Then Captain Marvel came to save you and bring you back to Earth; to bring you back home.

Bucky ran up with Steve to help Tony, supporting the man who looked like he’d been to hell and back a few times. He stepped aside once Pepper ran up, choking on his own breath when he looked back to the steps of the ship.

You held onto Nebula’s arm as you slowly stumbled down the stairs. Bucky let out a sob at the sight of you, immediately rushing up to help you. You felt so fragile in his arms and it took everything in him to not collapse to the ground in shock, not sure if it was relief that you were alive or horror at your condition

He held you to his chest as tightly as he could once you made it to solid ground, his vibranium arm holding you up by your waist while his flesh hand held your head to his chest.

“Oh my god,” was all he could say as he stood there, body shaking as he cried

“Hey, I’m okay.” Your hand shook as it came up to weakly pat his shoulder. He could tell you were completely out of it: eyes distant and mind barely there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching, ready to help get you to med bay.

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, gently rocking you back and forth in his arms. “You’re alive.”

You tried to pull back in his grip, forcing him to loosen it slightly. “I love you.” You leaned up to kiss his lips, though it ended up being more of a brush of your lips than an actual kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He kissed your hairline, scared that kissing your lips would steal more oxygen away--something you desperately needed more of in your system right now. “You’re gonna be okay.”

The “Holy Shit!” Kiss

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it a secret. You were sure he would’ve figured it out by now: the sticks in the trash, the sudden avoidance of certain foods you would usually never pass up, the second heartbeat that now accompanied your own.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to know--you had actually been trying for a baby for a while now--you just weren’t sure how to tell him. Is this how he felt before proposing?

The opening of your bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. You were met with the sight of your husband shrugging off his jacket when you turned around. He cut his hair recently. Something about it being “too hot for this shit.”

“Why are you wearing a jacket? It’s June,” you giggled.

“The air conditioning is fucking blasting and I got cold while I was doing my paper work, if you must know,” he said, laying the jacket on the chair you were standing next to. He left a quick kiss on your lips, leaving you craving for more.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy? I think you have the wrong guy here, doll.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Your hand caught his, tangling your fingers together. Should I just tell him now?

“You keep thinking that. Steve asked me to help train some agents here in a few minutes so I gotta go now.” Another quick kiss and a wink and he started making his way out the door.

“Wait, Buck!” He turned around, almost out the door. “I need to tell you something real quick.” You motioned for him to come back over.

He took a few steps forward, a confused look on his face as you grabbed both his hands in yours. He could hear your heart rate picking up, which only served to worry him.

“So, I was wondering if you would be free to go to the hospital about eight months from now?” You gave a small smile, hoping he’d catch on quickly. “I’m not sure what the exact date is going to be quite yet but I’d really appreciate it if you could be there.”

Bucky frowned. What business did you have at the hospital that you scheduled nine months ahead of time? “Babe, what are you talking about?”

“I think we’re going to need to find our own place too. We’ll need a lot more space.” He still wasn’t catching on. “I doubt having three people in here would be super pleasant.”

He frowned even more and you simply giggled, bringing his hands to your stomach. “I’m pregnant, Buck.”

“Ohh!” He let out a sigh of relief, glad that that was all you were worried about. “Had me worried for a second there, doll.”

It was your turn to frown. “What?”

“From the way you started, I was worried you were dying and this was some sadistic way of telling me.”

“Nope. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Was wondering when you were going to tell me.” His thumbs rubbed circles into your belly.

“You knew?!”

“I heard the heartbeat weeks ago. Took me a while to figure out what it was but I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“Damn your supersoldier hearing.” You leaned your head on top of his shoulder, letting out a small groan.

“Holy shit though,” His voice was soft as he rested his chin on your head. “we’re having a baby!”

“Yeah,” You lifted your head up slowly to see the biggest grin on your husband’s face. “we’re having a baby.”

A hand came up to cup your cheeks as he leaned into your lips, kissing you deeply and trying not to cry. “Holy shit!”

---

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sohin-ace · 3 years

Text

Bucciarati - My little Seastar

Sister reader. Enjoy~

"Hey, Bucciarati! Can you help me for a sec?"

You turned towards the direction of the voice calling you and stopped in your tracks on the wooden docks.

"What do you want, Valentino?" You spat, a bit more harshly than intended.

The smug boy who was crouched on his zodiac chuckled at you. "Aw, come on, Bucciarati! Don't be like that. I just need some help to tie the rope. Your dad is a fisherman, right? You should know knots like no one else!"

Even though he had said this as a way to woo you and flatter you somehow, you couldn't help but hear it as a condescending remark. You crossed your arms over your chest and he pouted at the glare you sent him.

"Pretty please~? No funny business, I swear! Look, the guys aren't even here, I'm all alone. You can trust me!"

That's right. Valentino and his little gang took great pleasure in teasing you and bothering you at every corner and it pissed you off. No matter how much you insulted them, ignored them or avoided them, they never seemed to stop their stupid and useless bullying.

But sadly, oh so sadly, the Bucciarati that you were was kind. Too kind. You despised that you were so gentle-hearted, but in the end, this is how your father and brother had raised you.

You huffed and slumped your arms loose along your body, defeated. "Fine!" You dragged your sandals over the dock and approached him. "It better be quick."

The boy beamed as you embarked on the zodiac next to him, "Sure thing! Thanks a lot, girl. I'll make it up to you!"

He gave you the ropes as you crouched down at his place and got to work. But without you noticing, the boy had swiftly slid his leg over the vehicle and easily jumped back into the dock, leaving you behind.

Before you could even turn around and ask where he was going, the brat, now accompanied by all three of his little buddies that appeared out of their hiding spot, all kicked the zodiac off of the dock before you could even tie it.

"Waah-!"

You lost balance at the violent jerk of the boat and yelped, letting go of the ropes that could have saved you from your demise.

You couldn't even get back to your knees and try desperately to grab onto the dock's wooden planks. You heard the boys snickering and laughing at you as you drifted farther and farther away from the land into the water.

"I fucking knew it you disgusting piece of TRASH!" You yelled at them, angry with them obviously, but also angry with yourself for granting that bastard the benefit of the doubt. "You know damn well I can't swim!"

They all seemed to laugh even louder, obnoxiously. "Too bad for you Bucciarati! Maybe you shouldn't be so stupid next time! BWAHAHAHA!"

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE VALENTINO! SCREW YOU!"

Your curses and wails seem to fall into deaf ears as you drifted even farther away from the coast, with no way of even paddling back.

Looking around towards the much bigger boats parked along the docks, you could only hope 'he' would hear you.

"PAPA!! PAPAAA!!!" You called desperately. Surely he would hear you, he wasn't far after all, you did come all the way here to bring him his lunch. He must still be somewhere around the fishing boats.

After a few more vain attempts to call for your father, you settled to accept that he wouldn't hear you, nor would the other fishermen that were already far gone from their boats to bring their catches to land.

You sat on the damp zodiac and brought your knees to your chest, not even caring if your sundress slid down your thighs indecently and got stained by the salty water. Stupid Valentino couldn't even keep his tiny boat clean.

"Stupid, stupid..." Your voice cracked, threatening to break into a sob. "If he was a sailor he'd be dead before even sailing. That's how stupid this stupid boy is. Stupid."

With only your expletives to reassure you in your demise, you buried half of your face in your arms now craddling your cold knees.

Everything was so silent, the sea did a great job at muting every sound around the coast and you felt the loneliest and most scared you had ever been since you were a child.

You thought nobody would find you, and you'd be dead drowning because you could never learn to swim and since nobody even noticed your absence in minutes that felt like hours, nobody would cry for you if you died here either.

And so the stinging tears prickled at your eyes.

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice calling your name, but brushed it off as the wind. "Y/N is that you?"

You looked up towards the insistant voice in a sliver of hope and, like an angel fallen from heaven, you were met with the caring blue gaze of your big brother from the railings of one of the high boats right next to where you had drifted to.

"Bruno!" You gasped and got up immediately, almost falling over from the sudden sway of the boat under your weight. "A-ah! Bruno help me, I'm stuck!"

"Hold on!" The worried face of the male hesitated to leave you for even a split second. "I'm coming down. Don't move."

You nodded at his strict tone and waited for him as he disapeared. Your breath caught in your throat with stress, even though you were reassured to finally have a savior. And what a savior it was, your one and only big brother.

Barely a minute passed before you saw him come back and unravel an emergency ladder down to you. He made sure the ladder was all tight and secure and almost immediately after, Bruno jumped over the railing, to your grand fright, and started climbing down, your heart pounding with worry for him.

He finally arrived down and stepped into the zodiac, joining you, like a glorious hero, saving the day. You barely let him any time to react as you threw yourself into his chest and gripped viciously at the back of his shirt, scrunching it without care, scared to be alone at sea again.

Bruno wanted to scold you and yell at you for recklessly playing around all alone in the docks and ending yourself in such a dire situation. But when he felt you trembling and squeezing him like your life depended on it, which ironically it did, the elder couldn't help but sigh and wrap his long arms around your shoulders, a gesture of comfort.

"... What happened to you?"

"It's-" You choked a sob and Bruno tutted and shushed you softly, patting your head to calm you down, just like your mother used to do when you were a child.

"Shhh, it's okay bambina, I'm here now."

He felt you relax and you sniffled a few times before mumbling into his shirt. "It's Valentino! He tricked me! I hate him! He's such a coglione!"

"Hey! Language." He scolded and pinched your arm, earning a little 'ow' from you, "What would dad think if he heard you say such words? Bite your tongue, young lady."

"S-sorry..." You croaked a little ashamed of your outburst and lifted your head up at your brother. "They always do this to me... Valentino and the others... Why...? They know I can't swim and they throw me into the water all the time..."

Bruno let go of you to cup your face and wipe your tears off. He did not let it show to you but he was infuriated. There was only so much patience an Italian man could have when his family was being targeted. Especially his little sister and the only lasting woman of his life.

"Shh, stop crying now, mia stellina marina. I'll deal with them later, okay? Let's get you home for now."

"They'll see." You sniffled as your breath steadied, calmed by Bruno's soft tone, "When I'll marry a big, tall, goth policeman, he'll beat them up for me and then, they won't act so cocky anymore."

He huffed with amusement at your words before he let you go and laid a gentle hand on your back to usher you towards the ladder. Bruno, still with a bit of confusion, mumbled to himself without you hearing it.

"... Why goth, though?"

Only now had you noticed the zodiac had stopped drifting since Bruno found you, held onto the much bigger boat by a phantom blue and white arm and a golden zipper that you'd recognize from a mile away.

"Can we... Can we let the zodiac in here?" You asked hesitantly towards your brother who paid no mind to it.

"Who cares? It's not ours."

With thoughts of Valentino's expensive motorboat getting lost in the sea, you slowly took ahold of the ladder's ropes and started climbing, Bruno keeping it steady for you until he was sure you embarked in safely.

He then joined you up and lent you a spare jacket that he thankfully thought of taking with him in the morning, covering you from the cold of your drenched dress against the littoral wind.

"Thank you Bruno..." You softly uttered and hugged his warm jacket closer around you, "I always cause you trouble..."

"Nonsense, piccolina. I could never live knowing my sister is crying, cold and afraid somewhere." He squeezed your shoulder against him as you approached the stall your father and his colleagues were filling with freshly caught fishes. "I'll make sure you're the one that never gets troubled again..."

Fortunately for you, the day ended much more peacefully than it had started and your father was happy and relieved to find you safe and uninjured. He had specifically instructed Bruno to not get involved or make a scene, but of course, his son was a stubborn mediterranean who could not let anything just slide.

It was not the first, not the second, nor even the third time this boy, 'Valentino' and his friends, had taken offense towards you.

So, Bruno would make sure the zodiac Valentino had worked oh-so-hard to afford, part-timing as a waiter, cleaning after people's messes, scrubing disgusting shit-stained lavatories and cutting his hands off of plastic and metal scraps scattered along the beaches for a few cents per day, got thoroughly anihilated to pieces.

"NOOOO!!!! MY ZODIAC !!!! MY 50 000€ BAAABYYYYYY!!! WHYYYYY???!!"

The very next day, as you walked along the docks to bring some fishing materials to your brother, you heard the painful wails of a very familiar boy kneeling down and crying on the woodplanks, his screams echoing against the shore.

"SHUT UP BRAT! You'll think about your money after you pay for the fines I'm about to give you. You think you can get away with polluting the water with your gross ass wreckage?" A tall and burly policeman wearing purple lipstick growled at the kneeling boy, no signs of mercy in his baritone voice. "You'll have a reason to cry when you pay for the oil you spilled in here. You're lucky I'm not throwing your ass in jail right now."

"Officer please-" Valentino pleaded miserably, but the policeman did not hold back on pushing all fives of the different citations he had owned by having pieces of his zodiac scattered all around the precious ressourceful ocean.

"You have two weeks to pay up and clean all that shit." The officer fixed his shades over his nose before turning around to leave. "And expect to receive a salty lawsuit soon. Fucking whiny bitchbaby..."

The policeman left with a determined and impatient step as you witnessed the entire scene with wide eyes, not noticing your brother approaching.

"Oh no... That's horrible..." You gasped with sympathy and worry, "I hope the fishes and corals won't get impacted by the oil spill..."

"Oh don't worry," Bruno chuckled, taking the heavy loads off your hands, "I made sure to zip that out of the water."

You blinked, confused.

"...What?"

"What...?"

That fic was inspired by the very first scene of H2O, I love that show so much, and I can't wait to post my mermaid fics in store!

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aftqrglow · 3 years

Text

A Blessing, Beautiful And True

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns; swearing if you squint; mentions of death; mentions of food

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i absolutely hated with my entire being. i hate this a little bit less djaksjsjs also pls ignore how i literally cannot write a good ending to save my life.

dedicated to @xsamsharons for lending me her name. i hope i did it justice mi amor ily <3

Bucky learnt to value things.

Not the great, terribly material things people around him seemed to rush after. Not money, not even when he was barely getting by.

No, for Bucky, it was the small, seemingly insignificant things.

The tiny toy WWII soldier figurine he found at a yard sale one Tuesday afternoon, the one with the missing arm. The near-exact model of the car his father used to drive—rusted around the tiny steel axel, the rubber wheels worn from use. That yellow screwdriver set that sat at the very back of the tool cabinet in the garage, unusable because of the cracked plastic handles and rusted steel, that looked exactly like the kit he had once used to fix up the plumbing in his first apartment.

Bucky was used to valuing the broken little things.

He never truly understood what loving something whole, something complete felt like—not until he met you.

You, in your white sweater and blue jeans, hair tossed up in a braid. You, your eyes that dancing with unbroken light, like the rays of the sun on the ocean on a bright summer’s day. You, with the sort of kindness he never truly thought he would ever be worthy of, not until you showed him that he was.

You, the girl he fell in love with before he could ever truly know what love was.

Steve might’ve been the first to notice. He was with him that day, the day he first saw you. They had been hunting for a Christmas present for Tony, and even though Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to attend, he wasn’t about to show up empty handed.

Steve didn’t even realize that the sly-footed assassin wasn’t by his side until he had walked the two blocks from the mall to his car. Hands ghosting over the gun tucked into the holster hooked into his waistband, Steve retraced his steps, his heart thundering in his throat.

Until he heard Bucky’s laugh.

Not the obviously fake chuckles he used to placate those around him. No, this was the laugh he remembered, the laugh he thought Bucky had lost.

This was Bucky’s laugh—his Bucky’s laugh, before the world stole him away. Pure and innocent.

Happy—so undeniably, inexplicably happy.

The tension eased from his shoulders when he saw you. Steve knew who you were, of course. Everyone did—or at least, everyone who had been around after the Battle of New York. Everyone who had seen you walk among the rubble, bleeding through your jeans, helping dig survivors out of the rubble, guiding them to shelters. Everyone who had seen you do everything you could help those who needed it more than you did, until your legs finally gave way and the only reason you didn’t collapse to the floor was because Steve caught you.

But Steve also happened to know why you’d done it. Because you were kind. Because you were selfless. Because you knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved, and to garner the strength to build yourself up anyway.

You’d lost people too—everyone you loved, killed during the Battle. Your family. Your friends. It might’ve seemed cruel to be spared. Might’ve seemed like a cold, dark twist of fate—and for a time, it did.

Steve had never known anyone to be resilient the way you were.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, as he watched his friend from through the glass, maybe you would teach him to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope too.

—

Bucky didn’t even like books.

The only book he’d read—aside from the coursework assigned to him in his school days—was The Hobbit. And even that had taken him an ungodly amount of time to finish.

So yeah, Bucky didn’t exactly like books.

But he still visited the tiny bookstore on the corner every day.

He didn’t even buy anything. He just looked around, running his fingertips over the spines of the books that jutted out of the wooden shelves, the sunlight turning his eyes into uncharted waters of the oceans, swimming with undiscovered secrets and untold lies.

You would talk to him. All the time, and with no trace of the usual pity or sympathy that he heard when he spoke to people. You talked to him in a way that made him feel like himself, in a way that made him feel like he just might rediscover the man he used to be.

That first time he’d seen you was burned into the back of his brain, the image of you standing there with a hip braced against a bookshelf, dressed in a white sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a braid over your shoulder. He had watched as a strand escaped, falling into your face.

And him—he'd stood there, watching you talk to another woman he couldn't recall because really, how could he look at anything else but you? Bucky was certain he looked like a gaping idiot, both wanting your attention to turn to him, and dreading the fact that he would surely make a fool of himself if you so much as looked at him.

Back in the 40s, things would've been so much easier. He would already have said something witty to make you laugh, he would already have been telling you about the carnival down at the beach and asking if you wanted to go with him.

But when your friend left, and you asked him if there was anything you could help him with, his voice sounded strange to his own ears as he croaked, "Books?"

You had laughed—and he found himself laughing along. A true laugh—for the first time in a long time, the sound didn’t sound fake to his own ears. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.

Bucky had taught himself to value that which wasn’t whole—because he wasn’t, either. Love was give and take. Love was equal.

If he was to deserve your love, he would have to be whole again. If he was to deserve your love, he would make himself whole again.

—

There was a sudden shift in the way Bucky viewed the world.

It had been three days since he last saw you, but he walked in through those doors anyway. He had no cause, no reason—he just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.

You were sitting by the bay window at the very back, reading a book. He took a second just to take you in, to get used to the fact that you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

The second you looked up, your face split into a grin, like you were truly, genuinely happy to see him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had smiled at him that way. “Hey, you’re back! It’s Bucky, right?”

He nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak, not when he was sure he would stumble over his words, not when he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent sentence in your presence.

"What can I help you with today?" you asked, snapping your book shut and placing it on the table.

"Uh... What're you reading?"

You glanced down at your book before looking up to meet his eyes again. Blue, you thought, supressing a smile. Icy blue, but warm nonetheless—familiar in the way most things aren’t. "Wuthering Heights. You've never read it?"

He shook his head no. "Never been much of a reader, no. Is it any good?"

"It's one of my favourites," was your answer, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The light caught the steel of the chain around his neck—the chain of one of those military-issue dog tags.

And maybe that was how it started—on that dreary cold Wednesday, when you'd stood next to the bookshelf by the window, telling him about your favourite book, but really all he could focus on was the late afternoon sun rendering the hue of your eyes several shades lighter, the soft slope of your nose, the fullness of your mouth. Every little detail about you was etched permanently into his mind—and he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

It was about closing time when he decided he had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he had promised he would have dinner with Sam and Steve. And as much as Bucky wanted to stay, he was a man of his word.

Which is why when he promised you he would come see you as soon as he finished reading the book, you knew he meant it.

—

And you were right.

Two days later, he was back.

It was raining that day, early in the morning when you were just about to open up. And there, standing under the awning in the freezing rain, was Bucky, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind, drenched to the bone.

"What're you doing here?" you asked, eyes wide.

"I just... I don't know," he said. Because he didn't. Bucky didn't even like books—but he did like being around you. There was a strange sort of calm about you, a sense of peace he'd only known in Wakanda. Around you, he was just Bucky—not Sargent Barnes, not the Winter Soldier—just Bucky.

He liked being just Bucky.

You shook your head, but he could've sworn he saw the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. "Well, come on inside. I'll turn up the heat and get you something warm to drink. Christ, Buck, you could get pneumonia or something.”

He only nodded once. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get sick—not when the serum in his veins healed his body faster than normal. It didn’t matter that even if he could sick, he wouldn’t have cared, not when you were looking at him like that, with concern in your eyes for something other than your own safety.

You had a coffee machine in the back room, you told him. He followed you, lingering in the doorway as you bustled about, humming a tune under your breath. He recognized it as a song from that one Marvin Gaye album Sam couldn’t stop talking about. He recognized it as a song he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life, if only you were the one singing it.

He recognized that, for better or for worse, you would be his undoing.

—

After that, he came to see you every day.

When the weather got colder still, he brought you steaming cups of hot chocolate from your friend Bella’s café down the street. And on the days when he didn’t, he would head into the back room and make you coffee. You’d never had to tell him how you took it—after that in the rain, he’d somehow remembered what you liked.

You weren’t about to tell him, but you remembered what he liked too.

It started out simple—plum cider that you found on your weekly trip to the farmer’s market. An old vintage copy of The Hobbit from the forties. Rubber silencers for his dog tags that he never used but carried around in his pocket anyway—until eventually, you had something new for him every week, some insignificant thing that he looked at with the kind of childlike awe that made your heart twist into knots in your chest.

He walked you home too. Every evening, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, slowing his stride so that he could walk alongside you. He would stand outside, across the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to walk into the apartment you shared with Bella. Only leaving when the lights came on and he knew you were safe.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker—you learnt that about him. He would spend all day sitting quietly in a corner of your store, reading one of the books he found on the shelf of used copies you kept in the back of the room.

He seemed to love those used books more than the new ones—books someone had already read, books that had already been loved.

He felt a little that way sometimes, too. A little too used for love, not loved enough for use.

But never when he was with you.

And you—you were falling for Bucky Barnes. A little by little, day by day, without even realizing it—not until it all came rushing to you one afternoon, like a dam breaking, like the ocean of his eyes pulling you under, especially when you felt his gaze on you from time to time, watching you as you worked.

That afternoon, a new shipment of books came in. You didn’t even have to ask him for help—he was already on his feet, snapping his copy of Anna Karenina shut, mumbling a soft, “I’ve got it,” as you signed for the order. Hefted the two cartons of books like they weighed nothing at all, and carried them inside.

There was a strange tightness in your stomach as you watched him, standing in the middle of your store—the only thing the Battle of New York hadn’t taken away from you—and you wondered just how it took so damn long to realize that the feeling of familiarity didn’t lie among these books, but rather, in Bucky himself.

—

It was a slow day, so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon restocking the shelves. He asked you about each of the books, watching your eyes light up as you talked about your favourite ones, until conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of you basking in each other’s company as you worked.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed until you heard the door open and your friend Bella breezed in. She'd been here the first day Bucky had walked in, had noticed the way your eyes shifted to him mid-conversation like you couldn’t focus on much else when he was around. “Ready for lunch, y/n?”

You looked at Bucky, opening your mouth to ask if he wanted to come along. Not because you didn’t trust him to be alone at the store, but because you wanted his company. Because being around him felt like coming home.

He only waved you off. "Go ahead. I've got plans with Stevie. I'll be here when you're back though."

You believed him. You believed that he would always be around, for as long as you wanted. And you wanted forever.

"Was that the guy from before?" Bella asked, looping an arm through yours as you left the store, walking down the street. She brushed her fiery hair out of her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you, yellow-green eyes filled with curiosity. “What’s his name?”

"Bucky. He... He's a friend," you said.

"Well," Bella said. "He sure doesn't feel the same way."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Y/n, he looks at you like you put the stars in his sky. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

"I... I don't know, Bella."

Because you didn't know what else to call him. Because you and him weren't friends in the way people usually are—you had always been more.

Bucky was always more.

—

"I've barely seen you," Steve said, picking up his can of Diet Pepsi and taking a sip. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Bucky mumbled. Because how could he explain why he was spending so much time at the bookstore with someone he'd only just met? How could he explain the magnetic pull he felt toward you, the inexplicable desire to just be around you?

How could he explain the way you made him feel like himself again?

But Steve knew. Steve always knew. He saw the growing stack of novels on his friend's bedside table, saw him reading at the kitchen table, book propped up against the jug of milk.

He also knew that all this was because of y/n. Because Bucky mumbled that name when he was too exhausted to even know what he was saying. Because Bucky talked in his sleep—and Steve could hear him calling that name through the thin walls that separated their rooms. "You've been at the bookstore?"

Bucky set his drink down. There was so use denying it—his friend would see right through him. Steve had known him for too damn long to believe in his lies. "She's so... I can't even put it into words. She makes me believe that there's good in this world. That all the things I did wrong don't even matter—not when I'm with her. It’s the way she looks at things, the way she’s capable of finding a little bit of good in everything. Like she found something good in me, Steve."

Steve knew it was true. Because he hadn’t seen Bucky this way for a very long time. Because he hadn’t seen that light in his friend’s eyes in a very long time, and ever since he met you, it hadn’t gone away.

—

Bucky had to leave for a couple of days.

He didn't tell you why—just that it was a work thing. How long would he be gone? He didn't know.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "I promise."

And he was. Five days later.

But Bucky was quiet—quieter than usual.

It was a Sunday, and you’d somehow managed to drag him along to the farmer’s market with you. He walked alongside you, hands in his pockets, like he was aching to reach out and touch you but desperately holding himself back.

He’d almost gotten himself killed on that mission.

You took up too many thoughts in his head, too much space in his heart. And when the bullet narrowly missed him, grazing his ribs, his only thought was whether or not you’d miss him if he was gone.

You deserved better than someone who’s life was tied to the death of others. Someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.

A few paces ahead of you, Bella walked hand-in-hand with Bucky’s friend Sam. You were glad that Bucky had introduced them, glad that Sam made Bella happy in ways you’d never really known or understood before.

“Look at them,” you said, watching with a smile on your face as Sam quietly slipped a couple of oranges into Bella’s bag. “They look real happy.”

Then, turning to look at him, you smiled, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Because you might deserve better, but he was selfish and stubborn, and the only thing he had wanted in so goddamn long was you you you.

“Go out with me,” he blurted, every thread of self-control he had so carefully cultivated to keep his head in your presence snapping. He felt like he was taken back to that December evening he saw you for the first time, when the words refused to leave his mouth, when you’d rendered him tongue-tied and helpless. Only this time, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, not as he said, “One date, y/n. One date, and if you don’t have a good time, we can just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His heart shuttered when he saw the small frown creasing your brow, your voice soft as you asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to do this for the rest of my life with you, y/n,” he said quietly. “But for now, I’ll take that date.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll go out with you.”

He couldn’t help it. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you to him, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around until you were both laughing, childlike and breathless, blissfully unconscious of the knowing look on Sam and Bella’s faces.

Because really, how could he see anything but you? You had been it from the first day he saw, and you were it now—a blessing, beautiful and true.

tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @ughlantsov @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons

if you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #marvel mcu

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lcthebtswriter · 3 years

Text

my love

pairing: pietro maximoff x reader

summary: some disgustingly sweet fluff, as requested. Pietro and the reader’s relationship slowly solidifies itself.

warnings: suggestive content

tags: @just-that-trash-blog, @kpopchangedmylifesstuff, @pensysto-writes, @miscellaneoustoasts, @groovyfluxie, @line-viper (hey old friend), @alien-on-a-treadmill, @statsvitenskap, @aliciabg27, @brianaraydean, @im-that-trash-over-there, @readingemmy, @caswinchester2000, @wafflebrian, @smollmikey for their fluff prompt: “No, like... It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

a/n: I’m trying out a new fic layout so let me know if you like it, or if there’s anything weird about this upper half. as always, feedback is greatly appreciated :) send an ask with your username and fandoms to get first priority in making requests and being tagged in fics related to your chosen character(s)

Growing up in a facility that manipulated your power of electrokinesis, you had little opportunity to socialize. There were meals outside sometimes, but you were all forced to wear a power suppressor. Your social skills were lacking, but the Maximoff twins understood your plight and befriended you regardless.

You went through thick and thin together. When Ultron recruited the twins, you were roped into the Avengers in a desperate attempt at saving your friends’ innocence. Unlike them, you were unaware of the suffering caused by a traumatizing loss of family. You were born from a petri dish, a lab experiment years in the making, and had no family to mourn except for the twins.

Wanda was like an older sister to you. She taught you how to read, how to process your emotions, and - when your freedom was gained - how to dress and socialize. She helped suppress your nightmares and taught you how to control your powers. You learned how to cook together, and how to become accustomed to the bustling city and new teammates that weren’t euthanized if they lost a spar.

Pietro’s relationship with you, however, was different. The feelings were subtle, the emotions having never before been experienced. You knew what attraction was, and knew that copulation repopulated the Earth.

What you didn’t know was how to react to the electricity that ignited from your fingers after touching Pietro. When he was around, lights flickered and your hair stood at attention, drawn into a force you had no control over. It wasn’t an electromagnetic field, but you felt the familiar buzzing in your head and your toes.

Living healthy lives with the Avengers brought your attention to such emotions. You and Pietro became attached at the hip, especially when Wanda was off wandering or on a lone mission. Pietro was the only familiar face in the Avengers Tower, and he felt comfortable with you.

One thing led to another one night. After many drinks and a jokingly prompted kiss, you and Pietro ended up in his bed. You didn’t know if it was his first time, but he treated you as if you were. Pietro’s strong hands caressed your body in slow, soft motions. His kisses were steady yet needy, a sensual clash of tongues and moans and curious touches.

He made your body feel as if it were ignited. You craved him more and more, and the nights spent together ended just as quickly as they started.

What would the team think? Did Wanda know?

“Of course she does,” Pietro had said once.

The question bothered you to no end. As you dressed in Pietro’s room, hurrying as to not get caught when Wanda undoubtedly barged in to bother her twin. You didn’t know why exactly the thought of Wanda knowing disturbed your mind so greatly. Maybe it was due to your sisterhood with her, or guilt that you were romantically involved with the only person she had in her life. It was one of the reasons you always left Pietro’s room under the moonlight. You couldn’t stay. The guilt wrapped you up in his blankets.

Wanda did know, however, and she assured you it didn’t bother her one bit. She knew the question controlled your thoughts, and that you were consumed with the images of your nights with Pietro. Wanda told you she was just happy that you found solace in one another.

Knowing such information switched something inside you.

Your touches lingered on Pietro in public. Eyes never left each other on the sparring mat, whether you fought each other or watched one another practice with another team member. Long nights in each other’s rooms talking and laughing became second nature, but you never stayed the night until you had a nightmare.

It had been a year since your liberation from the lab, and while Wanda helped the nightmares they never truly left. You awoke some nights with sweat-drenched pajamas and a knot in your stomach so painful even medicine didn’t help. At one point you’d almost set the lamps in your room on fire because your fight or flight triggered a surge of power.

Pietro had come into your room one night, knocking even though he knew your screams woke you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice low with sleep and his accent heavier.

You didn’t answer, so Pietro shut your bedroom door and crawled beside you in bed. Immediately your arms wrapped around his waist, but Pietro leaned up to take off his shirt and discard it on the floor. He knew how important skin contact was to your self-soothing. Hearing his steady heartbeat and feeling the coolness of his skin lulled you into calmness.

“Please don’t leave me tonight,” you begged.

Pietro tipped your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips after wiping your tears away. They soaked into your cheeks, the sadness and despair quickly replaced by the comfort of Pietro’s presence.

You made love that night, soft and gentle as if Pietro was afraid to break you. Yet he wanted to show you how safe you were, especially in his arms. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you anymore.

He awoke to movement in your room the next morning. Pietro leaned against his elbow, bodyweight shifting the mattress as he watched you hastily throw on his shirt. It was bigger on you - almost knee-length - and the color complimented your sunlight-kissed skin. He thought you looked beautiful, especially since you were unaware of his gaining consciousness.

When you finally noticed his staring, you chuckled nervously. “What? I know I look crazy, but I forgot I have to meet Tony for suit adjustments,” you explained.

Pietro only smiled, his eyes gleaming in admiration.

“What?” You wondered, taking a step toward him. The hem of Pietro’s shirt was caught in your shorts.

“That shirt...” Pietro managed out.

You glanced down at it, tugging the cloth and looking up at Pietro again. “I’m sorry. It’s the first thing I saw,” you began.

“No, like,” Pietro interrupted, “It’s just... I can’t believe you’re wearing my clothes,” he said.

You sat beside him on the bed, eyebrows together in confusion. Suddenly you remembered last night was the first night he stayed in your room. You supposed you finally felt comfortable with each other enough to stay together all night. The guilt of not knowing Wanda’s approval had been so easily dismissed, but it felt nice to wake up to somebody you loved.

“Well of course,” you managed out. Pressing a kiss to Pietro’s lips, you stood and pulled socks on. Barely managing to balance on either foot, you hopped toward the door. “You’re my love, aren’t you?” The question left your mouth effortlessly, but you didn’t give Pietro time to reply.

He watched you leave him in your room, eager and waiting for your arrival.

“I am,” Pietro mumbled to himself. He was your love.

#pietro x reader #pietro maximoff imagines #pietro maximoff fluff #pietro maximoff #aaron taylor johnson

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laxmiree · 2 years

Text

[CN] Mystery box "Deep in His Memory" Lucien’s part Translation (Part 6-9)

Translation under the cut!

Navigation: Part 1-4 | Part 5 | Part 6-9 (you’re here!) | Part 10

I looked into the office and found that Lucien's name was indeed written on it.

But I also remember... that his office is not in this location.

Is this really a dream? Or is my memory off...

I shook my head, thanked Professor Chen first, and pushed the door into this office to seek answers.

MC: The furnishings... they also have changed.

The sense of dissonance that emerged from the situation was even stronger, and I felt my heart thumping haphazardly, like some kind of unsettling premonition.

MC: It’s weird... the students are also discussing the school celebration...

Sure enough, this is all a dream. The time of the school celebration and the time when Uncle John introduced the guests to me is completely wrong. This kind of thing can only happen in an illogical dream.

Thinking like this, the uneasiness in my heart seems to have finally disappeared.

I looked up and surveyed the room, which was both familiar and unfamiliar, and noticed a paper and a familiar ID on the table.

MC: It’s Lucien’s ID.... But this piece of paper is... drug instruction manual? Is it Lucien’s?

I picked up the paper with Lucien's ID and realized something was not right the moment I placed the ID on the drug instructions.

On the drug instructions, there seems to be some kind of hidden word?

【The lines on the drug instruction manual seem to be related to the outline of the edge of Lucien's ID. Do I need to put the ID on it? There is also an arrow on the back of the ID....】

Answer: 命运 (Destiny)

MC: Destiny?

What kind of destiny? Whose destiny is it?

Just as the words fell, there was a sudden rattling in the direction of the door frame.

I thought it was Lucien who came back, I opened the door and took a step forward, only to see an empty corridor.

The sound not only did not disappear but intensified!

The ground is shaking.

I widened my eyes in surprise, and hurriedly ran towards the stairs, but the shaking ground did not give me a chance to think and breathe.

"Boom", a huge piece of the panel just collapsed and fell straight towards me—

MC: !

I jolted out of bed, out of breath and drenched in sweat.

The room was quiet, except for the sound of my panting there was nothing else that can be heard.

The moon is still shining high outside the window and the bed is still as soft as ever, reminding me of the time and place I am in.

Even so, for a moment, I was a little confused as to what was real and what was a dream.

I don't know how long it took before my heart slowly calmed down and I sat quietly on the bed, trying to breathe deeply. I sobered a bit.

I rubbed my temples and couldn't help but look up at the bedside table.

The moonlight fell on it, illuminating the black letter, making it appear as if it were placed in the center of the stage.

I have a vague feeling in my heart that the weird dream just now... must be related to this letter.

MC: Is it caused by Evolver? That can control the dream world?

After all, this is not the first time BLACK SWAN has done something similar, not to mention that the voice in the dream also mentioned Queen.

Their purpose has always been so obvious because I was their so-called Queen.

They tried every means to get close to me, just to get me to help them achieve their "evolutionary goals."

MC: But the dream just now... It seems to be nothing more than a dream.

It doesn't really affect me in any real way, at least for now.

Probably because I just woke up, I really don't understand the cause and effect of the whole thing.

I reached for my phone and checked the time, it was four in the morning.

MC: A message?

I looked at the notification on the screen with some surprise; the text message seemed to have been sent after I had fallen asleep.

Lucien: About the first letter you mentioned before, can you let me read it tomorrow?

Lucien: No need to rush to reply, you must be very tired today, rest well.

Those few lines seemed to turn into a trickle of warmth that flowed through my heart.

Whether it's BLACK SWAN, a dream, or reality. I've never been alone in facing it.

The corners of my mouth unconsciously formed into a smile, but at the same time, I couldn't help but feel a little chagrined.

MC: I made him worry again... I'll go to the office early tomorrow to get the letter, maybe I'll get a new one.

I glanced at the text messages on my phone again, finally felt more relaxed, and even joked with myself.

Anyway, let's wait until tomorrow.

[Lucien-6]

The next day, I arrived at the office early.

MC: It’s better not to stop thinking about it alone for now, let’s just wait to discuss it with him.

My colleagues and I were discussing plans for a new show, completely oblivious to the passage of time.

When I came to my senses and wanted to check the time, the phone in my hand just rang and vibrated.

MC: Lucien?

When I saw that long-cherished name, I suddenly thought of my dream last night, and an indescribable feeling came over me.

Lucien: MC, it’s me

MC: Um, did something happen?

Lucien: Can't I call you without something happening?

MC: It’s not like that... Rather, I’d be happy to welcome your call.

Lucien: Fool, did you have a good rest last night?

That familiar nickname fell into my ears, and yesterday’s dream of the world without Lucien flashed in my mind again. The sourness in my heart made my eyes cloudy.

MC: Lucien, can I ask you a question?

Lucien: If I can answer it, sure.

Option 1: What if you don't become my program consultant?

MC: What would have happened if you didn't become my program consultant...?

Lucien: Then there must be someone else as a program consultant.

Lucien: If this happens, I will be sad.

Option 2: What if our acquaintance was just a dream?

MC: What if everything between us was just a dream?

Lucien: People dream because the brain needs to organize the information we receive during the day.

Lucien: However, I don't think there is any dream that can make me feel so real about you.

MC: Is my question silly...

Hearing Lucien's answer, I couldn't help but feel that taking last night's dream seriously was really silly.

Lucien: Of course not. In fact, I'm calling to ask you. You said yesterday that the movie was pushed to today. Does this appointment still stand?

MC: It still stand, of course it still stand.

I nodded while holding the phone and answering, a low chuckle reached my ears, and I reached up to wipe my eyes that were still clouded with moisture just then.

Lucien: When I get off work, I'll pick you up.

MC: Okay, see you later then!

When I packed up my things and went downstairs, I saw Lucien waiting at the roadside.

We ate something casual and went to the entrance of the small private theater we used to go to before.

MC: Lucien, what movie are we going to watch?

Lucien: Is there anything in particular that you want to see?

MC: I think they are all pretty good...

As long as you’re the one I’m watching it with.

I mumbled the second half of the words in my heart, but Lucien appeared as if he heard the words I didn't finish and gently tugged the corners of his mouth.

Lucien: Then leave it to me to choose.

MC: Okay! I'll go get some popcorn.

It's been a long time since I came to the cinema with Lucien. Some time ago, for various reasons, we always watched DVDs at home.

Coming to the theater after a long absence, I can't help but feel a little excited.

I walked over to Lucien holding the popcorn I bought, and my happy expression was written all over my face.

Lucien looked at me with a smile on his lips and passed a movie ticket into my hand.

Lucien: Let’s go, the movie is about to start.

There were only two of us in the theater, which would have been an easy environment to relax in, yet I felt a little nervous for some reason.

Lucien sat on my left, his faint grass scent occupied my nose, I was a little distracted, not able to focus on the screen.

The lights dimmed, and the title of the film had already been broadcast and switched to the next frame. Lucien's raspy voice suddenly sounded in my ears.

Lucien: Why are you keep looking at me, do you think I am more attractive than the movie?

The light and shadow fell on his smiling face, and I turned my face away with a guilty conscience and stared at the screen to hide my blush.

MC: N-no, I’m just taking the popcorn.

I made a lame excuse and finally stopped looking at his silhouette.

Time passed slowly and we all settled down to concentrate on the movie.

The film tells a slightly sad story, of a pair of lovers who stumbled onto completely different paths because of a misunderstanding.

When I thought they would solve their misunderstanding at the end, the movie ended abruptly.

MC: That’s the end of it huh...

Lucien: Do you feel some regret about the ending?

MC: Well, it is obvious that only the last step is missing to solve the misunderstanding

Lucien smiled gently, but did not speak for a long time, he took out the movie ticket stub and handed it to my sight.

Lucien: Perhaps there is another interpretation hidden in this path we take from the entrance to the cinema hall to the seats.

MC: Another interpretation... does this refers to hidden easter eggs and such?

【I flipped the movie ticket over and looked at the seat map on the back. The passing seats seemed to correspond with the words on the front of the ticket...】

Answer: 云开月明 (Clouds open to the moon; it means that only those who persevere to the end can wait until the day when the clouds are cleared and the moon is shining. It has the same meaning as a rainbow after the storm.)

MC: Clouds open to the moon?

Lucien smiled and nodded at me.

Lucien: It may just be a coincidence, but it is okay to interpret these words as the final ending of the movie.

Although I know this is Lucien's way to comfort me, I still hope that the main characters in the movie will have a happy ending and be able to keep the clouds and see the moon.

Just like we once did.

MC: I really like the shot of this movie. I can learn from the director's camera movement and use it in the show.

Lucien: I still have another movie by this director at my house. If you're not tired yet, would you like to watch another movie at my house?

MC: That's great, I'll be honored to “bother” you~

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucien: I just bought a lot of new DVDs a few days ago. You can look for it.

Lucien: Is there anything else you want to watch?

After arriving at Lucien's house, he was busy adjusting the player, planning to play the movie we mentioned earlier.

Taking advantage of this moment, I went to the cabinet where the DVDs were kept to see if there were any other movies I could borrow.

After searching for a while, I accidentally found a white piece of paper at the bottom of the box.

My eyes just swept the writing on it, but my heart was clenched in an instant.

A heart meditation instruction? Did Lucien accidentally drop it here? And I've seen the same thing in my dream...

Could it be related to his health condition? Sometimes he's obviously having such a hard time, but he never tells me anything.

The instruction is filled with professional explanation, and on the back, some record notes look like Lucien’s handwriting.

Thinking that Lucien's condition might get worse, my heart tightened, and I became more worried about him.

I carefully looked at this drug instruction manual and found that there were some medication records that Lucien himself wrote on the back...

【In the records written by Lucien, there seems to be another hidden sentence....】

Answer: 你是我的良药 (You are my medicine)

Explanation: The "你/you" marked in the medication record (1) and the "动/move" marked in the adverse reactions (1) in the manual have the same position in the sentence, both of which are the 19th word. From this, other words in the medication record can be derived according to the adverse reaction.

MC: You are my medicine...

The medicine he was referring to...is it me?

Lucien: MC, what's the matter, have you found any interesting movies?

Hearing Lucien's voice, I hurriedly put the instructions back in place and didn't dare to ask him.

MC: ...um? Ah... I' ve found some movies I want to watch, let's watch them together next time.

I forced myself to sit back on the sofa, Lucien cooperatively pressed the play button, and for a while, only the sound of the movie echoed in the room.

Lucien: Speaking of which, did you bring the first letter?

MC: I- I bring it....

With the sudden mention of the letter, I was a little flustered and took out the two letters from my bag before handing them to Lucien.

Looking at him studying the letter seriously, I felt an indescribable feeling in my heart.

Some are reassuring, some are confusing, and some are complicated.

Although I know that the current Lucien will definitely stand by my side, he was indeed a member of BLACK SWAN, the ruthless Ares.

Lucien: Did anything strange happen yesterday, such as having a strange dream?

The dream from yesterday came to my mind again, and I couldn't help but feel nervous.

In that dream, a mysterious person was talking to me, and then the scene suddenly changed to Loveland University.

The guest Uncle John introduced to me was not Lucien, but another professor who I did not know.

Lucien: You don't look too well, looks like I guessed right.

I told Lucien the entire content of the dream, and after listening to my story, he smiled.

Lucien: So it really is just a "strange" dream and not a "dangerous" one.

MC: Well... but this dream is really strange. I've heard a saying that dreams are projections of parallel worlds.

MC: Could it be that... in some other time and space, we never actually met?

Lucien: Is that so? But I don't think so.

I tilted my head and waited for Lucien to continue.

Lucien: In my opinion, you are destined to appear in my life, because it is what fate has in store for me.

Lucien: Maybe at the end of your dream, we will meet each other again on top of the ruins.

I was stunned for a moment, my ears unconsciously burned a little, and in front of Lucien's smiling eyes, I turned my gaze back to the curtain.

After that we both stopped talking about the letter and focused on the movie, by the time it was over, I was feeling a little sleepy.

Lucien: Go back to rest if you're sleepy, I'll walk you.

MC: You don't need to walk me, my home is right next door, I'll just go back by myself. Thank you for watching the movie with me today.

Putting the empty cup back on the coffee table, I got up and picked up the bag next to me. I waved to Lucien.

Lucien did not answer, he just stood up and quietly followed me to the door.

When the door got opened, I heard his voice again.

Lucien: Good night, MC.

I nodded, took out the key, and went home.

Silence returned to the corridor, it was late at night.

When the girl returned to her home, Lucien walked to the computer, his eyes that had been containing a smile cooled down.

The light reflected from the screen shone on his expressionless face, and even the moonlight became colder and colder.

[Lucien-7]

When I got home I took care of some work stuff. I was still worried about the two letters and studied them again.

For this reason I also deliberately pulled out my dad's notebook and looked at the S mark on the top with the upturned end, hoping to find some clues from it.

However, I felt like I was so familiar with the notebook in my hand that I couldn't find anything valuable.

I sighed slightly and was about to close my notebook when the page suddenly caught my attention.

MC: Huh... It seems like...

What's written here?

MC: Only then can you become the master of nature... the Red Queen hypothesis... Could there something wrong with that statement? Also, the phrase in the notebook is not complete...

In the past few days, such intermittent words have appeared too much. I raised my hand and rubbed my temples before opening the phone page.

Looking at the search results on the internet for the Red Queen hypothesis, I still haven't been able to find any more clues.

The bell of email notification interrupted my thinking, and I open my mailbox to reply to a work email, only to notice that it was eleven o'clock.

MC: ...It’s time to rest.

With this in mind and the feeling of exhaustion coming over me, I cleaned up the slightly messy things on the table and sat down on the bed.

Turned off the lights of the room, only a faint moonlight falling outside the window skim, surrounded by the silence of my breathing and heartbeat.

For some reason, it is obviously a very familiar environment, with a comfortable soft bed, but the unease in my heart is getting stronger and stronger, which makes me more awake at night.

My line of sight has adapted to the night, I unconsciously looked up to the table, on the table lay two black letters.

It was as if there was a strange and eerie magic spell that was born out of the letter to haunt me.

Will I still have strange dreams today?

I was thinking this and then shook my head again.

MC: Calm down, it's just a dream, it doesn't do anything

As I repeatedly reminded myself of this and remembered the reassurances he had given me, my heart finally calmed down.

Sleep returned to my body again, my eyelids became a little heavy, I did not notice any unusual things, and just slowly closed my eyes.

It was dark all around and there was no sound at all.

[Lucien-8]

The world seemed to be left with only two colors for a moment.

MC: Is this... a dream?

The black and white butterflies fluttered around me, flapping their wings in a desperate attempt to make a snapping sound.

The flowers near and the sun in the distance, just like them, appear unusually flat.

I stretched out my hand, and a "butterfly" stopped at my fingertips, I got closer and looked carefully.

MC: It's a paper cut butterfly... What a strange dream.

In addition to the sound of fluttering paper in my ears, there was a faint, rustling sound, as if someone was sketching something on the paper.

Just as I was at a loss listening to these sounds, the butterfly on my fingertip suddenly left.

The butterflies that had been surrounding me seemed to be agitated to wave their wings and fly off in a certain direction with that butterfly.

I froze for a moment but quickly reacted.

MC: Wait!

I subconsciously chased after them, the darkness in the distance was so deep that I didn't know where they would fly to.

Such a thought has just emerged, but I hit a dark wall with a heavy thud.

MC: It hurts... I thought dreams don’t hurt?

I looked at the black wall while rubbing my head when a familiar sight was projected on the wall.

MC: Is this Lucien’s home...?

The sun was casting in through the window, but not falling as golden as it should.

The world was still only in black and white, but the familiar furnishings made me quickly understand where this was.

The owner of the room was sitting quietly at his desk, holding a pencil and sketching something in his sketchbook.

I got a little closer to see what was on Lucien's sketchbook.

The drawings on the paper are made in pencil, with different species of butterflies, large and small, carefully labeled with their scientific names.

The rustling sound of continuous scratching on paper did not stop, and Lucien's side profile looked focused and serious.

I suddenly remembered the story of the painter and the butterfly that Lucien told me.

"A long, long time ago, in an isolated castle lived a painter, who had only two colors in his paintings, black and white. "

"It is not because the painter likes only these two colors, but in his eyes, these are the only two colors in the world."

"A butterfly flew in front of him."

"The painter was amazed to see that the butterfly had all kinds of beautiful colors on its wings that he had never seen before."

"Those colors became more vivid and fascinating with the flapping of the butterfly's wings, and the painter painted this butterfly all day long, never getting tired of it."

The voice in the memory rang so clearly in my head that I remember asking Lucien later if he was the person in this story.

Now looking at Lucien drawing the butterfly, I actually feel that he is very much like the painter in the story...

The butterfly on Lucien's sketchbook suddenly flew away from the paper, and I was surprised to see the trajectory of its flight.

MC: What kind of dream is this...

I subconsciously stretched out my fingertips and let the butterfly fall on my hand obediently.

At the moment when it flaps its wings, I seem to see some words on it...

【There seems to be a word hidden on the butterfly, but it seems to be visible only in a dark environment...】

Answer: color

MC: Color...?

It took me a while to identify the word "color" on the butterfly.

Just as I pronounced the word, the butterfly gently flew up and landed on my forehead, as if it was kissing me lightly.

But before I could look back, it flew away again.

Unlike those butterflies before it, I watched in amazement as it suddenly blessed all the places it flew over with color.

The black-and-white world came back to life a little bit as if a picture book slowly unfolded in front of my eyes.

By the time I opened my eyes again, it was a different picture.

The empty hall was shrouded in dull and deadly darkness, and the cold moonlight fell on the ground through the tall windows on both sides, glowing with a pale light.

A masked figure sits in the center of the hall, hands resting on metal armrests.

Lucien was wearing a black trench coat with no expression on his face, standing silently at a distance from the person.

??: Ares, you disappointed me this time, you should have done it more covertly."

Lucien: The time is ripe. I will come back to her again as Ares. Can't you wait until the curtain of this game is lifted?

The masked man grunted coldly and lightly stroked the ring on his hand, without looking directly at the person across him.

??: Then let me see just how ruthless you can be.

The cold moonlight cast in Lucien's eyes, like a calm sea.

However, in the next second, the sharp light pierced into Lucien's eyes, splitting open his cold gaze. Fresh blood flowed out of his right eye and slid down his cheek.

MC: Lucien!

I looked at the image in front of me in shock, my heart seemed to stop for a moment, and tears welled up in my eyes in a flash.

After Lucien's eye were injured, the world that had changed to color was once again stripped of its hue, and the surroundings had returned to black and white.

Lucien still looked coldly at the person on the opposite side, the masked man paused for a moment and soon applauded and laughed.

??: You always surprise me. Next time, I will not make an exception.

Is this... what happened after I left the TV tower?

Is it because he let me go that time?

But... his eye...

My tears flowed uncontrollably, and I just felt like my chest was about to be squeezed out of breath.

He just told that person that he would come back to me as Ares, but after that, he clearly... never hurt me again.

At this moment, the butterfly once again broke into my vision, which had been blurred by tears. A tiny piece of film is glued to its flapping wings.

MC: It’s a camphor tree...

I vaguely recognized the outline on the film negative.

And the original black and white butterfly also slowly changed, and the color dyed its wings a little, it rested on my fingertips, as if to convey some message to me.

【 Overlap the film with the colored butterfly, see if you can see something else... 】

Answer: 失去 (lost)

MC: Lost...

What was lost?

As soon as the words were spoken, the colorful butterflies faded in an instant, only leaving black and white color.

As if answering me, what he lost was the color.

The butterfly left my fingertips and flew to another place as if it was leading me to follow it.

I jogged forward, and as the butterfly's wings fluttered, the next image unfolded right before my eyes.

It was a very strange place, with the cracked ground and a dark sky, but covered with gorgeous nebulae.

It is a place as wonderful as a dream world.

Suddenly, I saw a face that was both familiar and unfamiliar. That person, is ...Hades?

And then I saw Lucien, who was covered in wounds, and "MC" myself.

...When did this happen?

I was clearly there, in the middle of the field, facing Hades with Lucien, but why do I have no recollection of this scene?

Is it a dream fabrication? Or is it...

A sense of uncertainty hovered in my heart, but I did not know how to seek proof, I could only stare blankly at everything in front of me.

Hades: Ares, in ten minutes I'm going to destroy this dream world, now you have one last chance.

I struggled to draw information from his words, and it turned out that this strange scene was really a dream.

But when did Lucien and I enter the dream world together?

I was still in confusion when, in a flash of lightning, everything in front of me suddenly changed!

Countless white lights appeared in the air, turning into sharp knives and stabbing at "me".

I saw myself in the picture trying to reach out and clutch to Lucien.

It was clear that I didn't know the cause of everything, but my heart still felt a stabbing pain.

MC: Lucien...

My voice overlapped with “myself" in the picture, and Lucien's smile was reflected on my retina.

Lucien: No. I won’t sacrifice someone important to me. That's my answer.

Deep in my memory, the scene about that press conference resurfaced a little bit.

He and I confronted each other in the spotlight of countless reporters and cameras, that question, just hovered in the middle of us.

"Would you sacrifice someone important to you in the face of your values?"

And now, I heard Lucien who says, "Won’t.”

More memories came to me like a flood.

Hades who trapped us in our dreams, the joy of the aftermath, and... memories that will be erased once we leave the dream.

The "me" in the scene asked him with tears in her eyes, "Am I also going to forget everything that happened here?"

Lucien paused for a long time and answered in a very soft voice.

Lucien: You will. Don't face danger alone in the future. Especially, if it’s for my sake.

The corner of my mouth somehow tasted a little bit salty, I raised my hand to wipe my cheek only to feel a face full of tears.

And the picture of myself, from a long time ago cried with red eyes.

...I can't believe I forgot about this whole thing.

Lucien he... obviously said sharp remarks, but still saved me.

He said he was the enemy, but he did so much for me...

But I don't know anything, I even look at him with guarded eyes and say so many things that will hurt him...

In the next second, the black light began to rotate and spread, completely swallowing Lucien and the "me" in the scene until the entire scene disappeared.

I couldn't help raising my hand to grab my neckline, my heart beating so hard that I felt a little uncomfortable.

The scene just now seemed to be still in front of me, and the blood from Lucien's eye seemed to sting my eyes.

The black mist from nowhere swept the surrounding space, and the misty black mist entangled me as if it was invading my consciousness.

Uncontrolled negative emotions wrapped around me more than ever, depriving my ability to think.

More fragments passively came to mind.

The blood-covered eye, the hand that trembled when she was injured, and the fragile expression that should not have appeared on Lucien's face.

I unconsciously remembered the previous dream, the dream where Lucien and I did not meet.

Is it actually true... that he better not meet me from the beginning?

If I don’t exist, neither Ares nor Lucien would do such things for me...

Those thoughts seem like a black spiral, slowly climbing up and imprisoning me in it.

But I no longer had the strength to struggle and slowly closed my eyes.

At that moment, a low, sly laugh came from the darkness.

[Lucien-9]

In the boundless space, the figure in the black robe suddenly appeared in front of me.

He stared into my eyes and whispered to me in a deep voice as if to answer my inner doubts.

??: In fact, you know it yourself, the pictures you just saw are all real, and they are things that exist deep in his memory.

His voice made me realize that the person in front of me was the mysterious man who had appeared in my dream before.

Affected by his Evol, I could only look up at him slowly, but couldn't see his facial features under his black robe.

MC: So... it was you who showed me these memories on purpose? What's your scheme? ??: Is it a trick to make you see the truth? Or is it just painful to see the real you?

He hung his head, his voice fell insistently in my ears, and with his voice, the black fog around him grew thicker and thicker, so thick that I seemed unable to think on my own.

??: What you think of as a peaceful life is just an illusion, only because someone else is bearing the pain for you.

??: But you just have to forget everything, and then you won't suffer.

??: Just like before, you can live without worrying about things that clearly happened without knowing about them.

I couldn't help but move my neck and lift my head to look into the eyes covered by the black robe.

??: If you want to, not just forget, everything can even not have happened, the world can be tipped over and started over.

??: By forgetting everything, you can have a new life, and the fate of the world will take a turn for the better, and the past and the future will be rewritten.

His tone was unusually sure, and his low voice was like a slithering viper wrapped around an apple, with the eerie power of persuasion.

MC: Including... his destiny?

??: Yes.

When I said this, I seemed to finally catch the light shining in his eyes, like a new future that I might have.

??: It's not just for yourself, it's for that person, and the whole world

MC: I'm not that great, I'm just...

I couldn't speak, turned my head in bewilderment, and looked at the place where the countless images had flashed back as if waiting for a definite answer.

The man in the black robe also looked with me, and there was nothing ahead but faint spots of light in the darkness.

??: Is that kind of past worth staying in? Come with me to the new world.

The facial features under the black robe outlined an expression of impending doom, and I finally gave up thinking and murmured in response.

MC: I...

Almost as soon as I opened my mouth, the faint light flickered suddenly, as if calling me not to walk into the darkness.

-> Don’t get closer to the light

-> Get closer to the light

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc cn #mlqc translation #mlqc xu mo

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savnofilter · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 8

dabi

☠️ warning(s): 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕤, chikan, exhibition, voyeurism, anal, humiliation kink, age difference, con-dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 3k [12 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: after a long day of university youre coerced into giving him a show... along with the rest of the passengers on the metro train.

It was almost perverse on how much he enjoyed this. Scratch that, it is perverse. It was the hidden secret that even with leaving his old lifestyle he fucked his younger sister’s best friend. None of his family knew of his existence for a million reasons that weren’t going to be met in this story. Yet he didn’t care. As long as he had you still crawling back to him was enough to satisfy his dark desires without a care in the world. Except for the fact even with him accidentally running into you and somehow starting the dangerous entanglement was beyond him.

Just like right now. He wasn't expecting to see you pile into the train with the same uniform you wore for your school, your body begging for him to claim his prize while at the same time telling everyone to go fuck off. Dabi knew his objective as soon as he saw you, moving in to fill the missing gap you needed to be occupied. The train started to move once you got comfortable, your body posture meek as you raised your hand to hold onto the bars, the other holding your cute little school bag close to your body. Even with the clear embodiment of your school uniform dressing your shoulders and left chest it was clear you were nothing more than a university student, the only thing making you look so… delectable being the way you had filled it out.

Now, had you been someone else a stranger to Dabi he wouldn’t have looked your way but seeing as you were rocking just ever slightly, the fabric of your clothing rising just a bit higher is what piqued his interest. It gave him an almost unpleasant tenseness in his chest, knowing that this was a combo you rarely wore unless something was wrong in the laundry or it was your last backup. He didn’t miss the creeps that eyed you, his dark aura shooting them off as he made them think twice.

He’d just have to show them something that they’re missing.

Dabi stepped closer to press up against your smaller frame, the feeling of him catching you off guard. You swallowed as you could feel his body, the bumps, and ridges of his outfit signature with his familiar scent you were used to washing over you with a wave of relief, holding back the need to smile as you peeked back at him with an almost glad look on your face.

“I thought you were someone else.” You spoke fluently. He chuckled as you looked as if he had saved the day as if he wasn’t the villain between you two. He moved his head to nuzzle your neck, his hands wrapping just under your breast and pressing his hips into yours.

“You should be glad I saved you~,” Dabi remarked in a smug tone. You could feel your cheeks heat at the gesture. Whether or not the blood flow showed up on your cheeks wasn’t a concern to you at the moment, the small suspicion that his little small talk wasn’t going to end as innocently as it had started. You bit your lip as his arms aided in pressing your chest against you’re already tight button up. “Heroes get presents, right?” The pressure created a small gap to accentuate, showing bits of your bra and skin that was underneath.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You stuttered as the small attention that one time was brought away from you was slowly coming back, making you shrink back into him as your false safe haven.

“Nothing,” Dabi mumbles against the skin of your neck, the train hitting a more than convenient bump on the track. You whimpered as you rubbed your thighs together, as much you tried to hide it you loved it when people watched you like this. Even though with your attempts to dress as if the thought of sex never crossed your mind you couldn’t help but start to get aroused at the thought of Dabi using you on a train like this for perverts to watch. He chuckled as he could feel your breath start to deepen, keeping your head down as you tried to conceal yourself with the arm that carried the weight of your bag.

Dabi was starting to get bored. His hand came up to dance across the fabric of the button, playing coy before tugging the other side from the other and popping the buttons in the process. Quietly gasped once he had done so, your chest now being partly bared to the world… much to your pleasure. Your tits strained at your bra, the smooth bumps of the train not making it better for your “cause”.

“Stay still for me, doll, okay~?” He whispered against your ear, the sound of his voice making you shiver. You couldn’t help but nod meekly, not daring to look up at the mixture of disapproval and horniness that started to fill the train. His hand scooped up into your bra and brought your tits out into the public view, your nipples rock hard as you tried to keep up your little act to convince yourself you weren’t getting turned on by this.

But you were.

The excitement alone was starting to make you drip annoying as it was.

Dabi already knowing you were, his hands left your upper body, coming up under your skirt and shirking your underwear. There was clear dampness on the thin fabric, the embarrassment of it all going straight to your clit. You whimpered as the air caressed your now exposed intimate bits. His hand came up to cup your sex, letting a sound of surprise at the feeling of your drenched lips against his fingers. “Oh? The bitch is wet~” He mused happily, slipping two fingers into you happily. The sound of his middle and ring fingers slipping into you made an obnoxious noise, your thighs quivering as his fingers were always able to find well inside your needy cunt. His fingers were quick in working in you, his main objective only to have you wet enough to take his already aching cock. Your back arched as you encouraged him to continue in using you as he pleased, his hand making a move to help open your shirt more and pull down your bra fully. Any eye who wanted to watch could, watching as this patched man toyed with this innocent girl on the train.

His fingers left your cunt to give it a small slap, not holding on to the force or ferocity of it. The feeling made you yelp, the sound of both gaining new watchers while some chose to ignore it. Your breathing was heavy as people eyed you, probably wishing that Dabi would do the world some justice and rip off the tiny skirt that you had also worn that hid all the good bits. All they could see was him teasing you and being able to use you the way you were supposed to be used.

“Come on, scarface, pass her over-”

“Fuck off and watch.” He cuts off the loser hastily, his glare glaring at them to let them know to keep away still. “You think any of you greasy fucks can touch her,” He started before he side-eyed you, his famous grin spreading across his mouth when the thought of having these bastards touch upon you was something you wanted. “Hm… maybe the bitch wants it~? Use your word’s, doll~” He taunts, turning you around so your front is pressed against him. Your bag dropped as you braced yourself against him, your legs stabling yourself against him. “If you don’t use your words I’m assuming it’s a no.”

You bit your lip as you at least wanted to keep some of your dignity. Nowhere in your life did you think you were going to be able to live out your fantasy to be used on a public train for anyone and everyone to see, the helpful tool of your mask only concealing your identity as if something was looking out for your well being… as if. His hand flipped up your skirt and exposed the last parts no one else on the train had been able to see but him. Your face buried into his neck once he did the action, your ass now on display with your dripping cunt peeking through the small gap between your legs. Dabi's hands reached back from your waist and grabbed the cheeks apart, showcasing the part between your legs and glistening cunt. He looked over your shoulder to watch as your asshole clenched in excitement, your position looking no better than a bitch in heat. There were a few mutters and mumbles as he displayed you, the original action surprising you.

“D-Dabi-” Your plea was cut off by his hand coming up and tugging your mask down and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue was already violating your mouth, growling as his hand lifted and of slaps against your unmarked skin. Each time your thicc backside jiggled and teased with what was really between it, your eyes watching up at his. The feeling was oddly intimate as if he wasn’t exposing you to the train for voyeurism perverts alike. He pulled away once he had felt satisfied enough, dragging you to sit in his lap once he was sitting in a seat. He tucked your skirt into its band to prevent it from blocking from view, the sound of a few shutters sounded as some went to get a close up of your mostly trimmed cunt, the fact that both your cunt and asshole still had some on it was more arousing to the public eye. Which is what Dabi liked.

His hands found their way to unbuckle his pants and free his hard cock. If the sparse amount of women on the train were loathing not being in your position and only silently observing, they now were jealous. His cock slapped against your cunt once it was free from his tight pants, the hardness of it making it stick up proudly. He tries to hold back his pleasure of letting people his manhood as well, the Prince Albert piercings doing his already impressive cock justice in turning this debaucherous situation exciting.

He thrusts his hips upwards to rub his cock against your soaked labia, a deep moan sounding when he’s able to slip his cock to rub just ever so slightly between the cheeks of your ass. His hands were on your ass again, spreading them as he guided to take his length. Have already been able to take his cock during the late nights and sometimes early morning you had no problem doing so. Your heartbeat was faster as someone commented on how his dick was able to insert inside of you without any problem or hesitation, the onlookers wanting nothing more than to stick their girths deep inside your ass. Your hips worked like magic against his. His just about average-sized hands spread your cheeks to let people view without any obstruction to the view the passengers in the cart watching as they watched this generations of future heroes get dicked-down in a train cart. You had no qualms about letting out the sounds you wanted, your hands gripping onto his jacket as he bounced you against his hard cock. Dabi wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you in place and fuck you.

Your ass jiggled with each thrust against hips. The sound of your cunt swallowing up his cock as his silver studs massaged at your walls and rocked the moans out from your throat. It was almost a dream come true of what everyone had to witness at that very moment. Your words babbled out like an idiot, enjoying the way your body felt being watched as he used you like a cock sleeve. His hand held your ass cheek to help use you, the obnoxious sound of his skin slapping against yours and your sopping cunt fulling the train and the disgusting faint aroma you could sniff out if you were too close.

Dabi greatly got off to using you in public. Some sick way in the back of his head he enjoyed that people could see that you were his, even with how indirect it was. He longed for having you under his thumb, the thought and idea that one of the loser bystanders could do just that sent jolts of pleasure through him and motivated him to fuck you like this. Your mouth hung open as you could feel his tip press against your g-spot, your eyes rolling back and tongue hanging out of your mouth as trembled to keep yourself sane and grounded as he pounded into you like a hungry animal.

Still, those attempts were futile as he didn’t spare you a chance to even make you presentable, a small amount of drool that left the corner of your mouth signified just how gone you were, fully succumbing to the taboo of train groping and public fucking. Your body felt hot, the possibility of having your future ruined because of this was somehow exhilarating, the shallow comments of how much you were a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut’ made you tingle, loving every moment of being degraded and railed in public. You squeezed your walls around his thick and unrelenting cock, your skirt that was tucked still managed to stay in place as you bounced against him, the grip causing you to tense up.

He didn’t care to stop, ready to see you cum on his length and fill his seed deep inside you. It was almost as if he didn’t notice that you had, the only thing is when someone commented that white substance that came from you, the way your holes clenched and ground against his to finish. Your body was a toy for him as he used you, chasing his climax to meet yours. Thankfully your orgasm before had aided in the extra lubricant. He gave your skin a final pop before pressing his hips fully into your cunt, grunting as his cock twitched as he finished his load inside your walls. Your insides happily took in his length in cum, the excess amount making some spurt out as if a scene directly from hentai. I mean, technically this whole experience was a scene straight out of hentai.

“Look at the pretty little slut, full with my cum~” Dabi’s hands groped around your body before lifting you off his cock and spreading your cheeks to watch as the fluids dripped from your gaping cunt. He thought over his options, staring up at your dazed look, and brought you to hips down to rub his cock between your ass cheeks.

“What are you-” Your complaint trailed off once you could feel his tip slowly slip in, the rest of his length following in as well. Dabi gave you a playful kiss, having you take him fully until he bottomed out deep inside you.

“We’re going to give them part two~” He answers you curtly. His jaw clenched as he was able to keep down a groan of pleasure at how tight you wrapped around him. He barely gave you enough to get comfortable, the subtle feeling of his long and thicc cock thrusting into your ass was something you had only done a few times too little. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his obnoxious length, closing your eyes as you were forced to have other people watch you get used to his cock.

As much as you tried to find it in yourself to be upset… you loved it. You like that you had an audience to watch Dabi stretch your ass out, not sparing you a moment to catch up or feel good. The feeling of him showing everyone on that train your practically virgin hole was being used for the third time in your life. This time, it wasn’t with the help of lube either. You clung onto him like an injured kitten, trying to relax yourself to allow him to use your backhole as much as he wanted.

“That’s it…” He encourages once you loosened up making it easier to slap his hips into yours better. Everyone got an eye full of your submission, wanting to touch and prod at you as well. You weren’t even sure you were deriving pleasure from this, the foreign feeling of his cock in your ass was such a feeling you couldn’t shake off but one that did urge sounds from you. You tried not to grow embarrassed when he pulled out to show off your gaping hole, the necessitous feeling of needing him to fill you up again crawling across your body. Your silent prayers were answered when he maneuvered you back onto his cock.

“I’ll have to use this one till it's just like your cunt~” He teases in your ear, rutting into you as he gets closer. His fingers dug painfully into your body, the hold on your side nearly knocking the wind out of you. He tilted his head to the side as his hips stuttered up into you and emptied into your second hole. You shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of his thick spurting into you was not a sensation you thought you would be experiencing for the day or truly ever. You grunted softly when you felt him pull out, his dick finally limp from the hormones that have been pumped out.

Dabi eyed your disheveled state before fixing what was left of your school uniform, keeping your pair of underwear with him as he shoves it in his pocket. He pushes you out of his lap making you stumble. Your hands come up to gather your stuff quickly as you realized your stop was approaching, have no liberty to be dazed. Your cheeks were hot as you tried to ignore the stares that both accompanied gazing under your shirt and skirt, gathering yourself to hold your shirt together and pull down your skirt. Your eyes followed the material that poked out his pocket, the train doors opening.

“I’ll give these to you next time we meet~”

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parvulous-writings · 3 years

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Nightmare // Liu Kang x reader

Request: I was wondering if I could request a scenario of either Liu Kang or his s/o having a nightmare, maybe of the other dying. Along with the prompt “It’s okay… I couldn’t sleep anyway…”

Requested by: anon

Summary: Reader has a series of nightmares, and goes to Liu Kang for comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of death, fairly graphic descriptions of various forms of death.

Words: 1.7K

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

not my gif

Nights in Raiden’s Temple had always been peaceful, even in the most troubling of times. The blanket of darkness only truly fell in the early hours of the morning, when the torches finally fizzled out in their mounted sconces, with no one left awake to tend to them. The only light left to illuminate the hallways of the ancient structure was that of the moon and her many stars. For you, tonight though, it was not a very peaceful night. It had started off as one, the same as any other. You had adhered to your schedule as you religiously did each evening- you washed your face, ridding your skin of the grime of the day, you folded your clothes to take them down to the washroom in the early morning, like you did every day with your fellow champions. You had nestled yourself into the sheets of your bed, curling up to rest, falling asleep quite quickly. You were not wrapped in tranquility forever, though. In the very early hours of the morning- perhaps two or three hours past midnight- you awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in your bed, a slick sheen of sweat adorning your skin. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you were short of breath, as if you had been training or sparring with other champions, rather than sleeping. You wiped your hands over your face in an attempt to calm yourself, as disturbing images flashed through your mind. They were burnt beneath your eyelids- scenes of Liu, scorched by his own flame, his flesh bubbling and blistering as he cried out in pain. His skin turned to char, and he collapsed, slumping over on his knees as his body finally caved in to the injuries he had sustained.

Then another- Liu engulfed by an emerald green light. It snaked around his limbs, bathing him in the eery glow of the streams of light as several strands shot down his throat, choking him, drawing the life from his lungs. You were forced to watch as he began to decay, the muscles beneath his skin wasting away, leaving him as nothing more than skin and bones- if you could even class it as that, as even from a distance his skin now seemed as thin, and as delicate as rice paper. He was not given a peaceful last breath in this vision, it was forcefully ripped from his lungs. A third- a disagreement between himself and his cousin and closest friend Kung Lao. Ordinarily, the pair would either agree to disagree, or they would work out his differences, but it was not the case this time. The two were in the fight pit, lashing out furiously at one another. Liu was hailing down a rain of fire upon his closest of companions, whilst Kung Lao expertly slung his chakram hat back at the monk. Though Lao was suffering many, many burns, it was Liu who was taking the majority of the hits. There were gashes on his face, his gi was slashed open in several places, exposing his torso which was littered with bruises. After a particularly harsh throw from Lao, Liu stumbled, losing his footing for a moment. Kung Lao took this as an opportunity to take advantage of Liu’s weaknesses. He hurled his hat towards his cousin, the blade of the brim running through Liu’s shoulder, creating a fountain of blood. The fire wielding monk fell to one knee, choking on the fluid, and Kung Lao started to approach him, calling his hat back to his hand. The descendant of the Grand Champion of the Order of Light approached the Chosen One slowly, an almost smug smirk on his lips. He gave a quiet chuckle, but had chosen not to gloat, kicking Liu Kang on to his back, watching him squirm and struggle. Without wasting anymore time, Lao threw his hat into the sand above Liu’s head, using his arcana to make it spin like the blade of a buzzsaw. Grabbing his cousin’s arms, and dragging him along the ground, until he had been split in half, his blood and his organs spreading out and drenching the sand.

You wanted, so badly, to look away from this monstrous sight, but you couldn’t. Your tried to close your eyes in this dreamworld, but it was of no use. It was this final segment of the dream that had caused you to wake up in your cold sweat. Your eyes darted around the dark confines of your room, trying to find something that could provide you with some sort of comfort. But beside your blanket, which felt more vaguely restrictive than anything, you had nothing. Though perhaps, that wasn’t strictly true. There was something, or rather someone, that could comfort you. You shakily got to your feet, getting dressed in something that covered you a little bit more than the typical night wear, padding out into the dark hallway, heading down as quickly as you could muster, given the lack of light. Eventually you wound up at the door you desired, or at least you hoped so. You raised your hand to knock timidly on the door, trying to be quiet so as not to wake the others nearby, but loud enough to catch the attention of the dweller within those quarters. You wrapped your arms around yourself, waiting patiently. You didn’t have to wait long, as the wooden door creaked open slightly. Before you stood Liu Kang, his eyes just barely open from sleep, his hair tousled slightly from tossing and turning, as he told you he often did at night. He rubbed one eye with his hand, his prayer beads slowly sliding down his arm with the movement. He mumbled something inaudible, as he registered you standing just outside his doorway. He noticed your slightly disturbed expression, and became much more alert. “Are you alright?” Were his first words to you, and you gave him an almost sheepish look. You wanted to throw your arms around him, to spill out thanks to the elder gods for him being alive, but you restrained yourself. “I did not mean to wake you... I was more wondering if you were awake.” Your voice is soft, just above a whisper; the thought of him dying in your dreams underlying your every words, although he was unaware of it. You could tell he had only recently gotten to sleep, something he didn’t often get much of. The monk shook his head at these words. “It’s quite alright… I couldn’t sleep anyway…” He offered you a brief smile. “You seem worried. What seems to be the matter?” He asked you, moving aside and beckoning for you to enter his room. You step inside, rubbing the back of your neck as he closes the door carefully behind you. “I... Had a nightmare.” “Oh?” Liu replies, moving to sit on his bed. “May I ask about the nightmare? It is alright if you do not wish to divulge what you dreamt.” He told you, “Though perhaps it will relieve some stress from your shoulders.” He encouraged, and you sighed gently. How were you to tell him this? Sure, it may not have been a reality, but it had felt so real.

“I saw you dying.” You say it bluntly- why sugarcoat something that blatantly troubled you so? Liu is stunned to silence, just staring at you, unsure of what to say to comfort you. You decide to continue, hoping this will help him comfort you more effectively. “I saw it happen several times... You were burned, then you decayed, and...” Your eyes glaze over for a moment, and you swallow a lump that had formed in your throat. “And Kung Lao killed you.” This shocked Liu even more; what had provoked such vivid and horrific dream sequences? He didn’t know, and he thought that perhaps it would be better for him if he didn’t know, it may not have been his place. You didn’t come to him to have your problems solved, you came to be comforted. He remained quiet for a moment more, as his arm slipped around you, pulling you closer to his chest. “It’s okay.” He soothes, moving you both so that you laid on his bed, facing up at the ceiling, “It was nothing more than a dream. It’s gone, now.” He told you. You glanced to him for a moment as you settled onto his chest a little more. “But... It felt so real. Everything about it. The sounds... The sights... All of it. Even the way you fight- all of your inflections, and even Lao’s smirk. It was all there and-” Liu shushed you as you started to babble. “It was a dream. I will not deny it has clearly had an impact on you, but I will remind you of the fact.” His voice was soft as he spoke, “And I will remind you that we are all safe here- from death at least. I will not get injured from flames, I can control them well enough to defend myself from them. Decay will certainly happen eventually, of course, but it is many years away I am sure.” He paused for a moment, letting you just process his words. “And as for my cousin... You know he will not let loose all of his skill on me.” He’s right, the relationship between Kung Lao and Liu Kang was a tight knit one, rife with humor and playful jabs, but at the same time a sincerity that they will both be there for one another. You nod slowly. He starts to gently trail his warm hand up your upper arm, soothing you a little more.

Liu falls silent, and the pair of you just lay there on his bed for a while, his hand still carefully gliding over your skin. You start to feel drowsy, and your eyes weigh themselves shut as your body succumbs to the exhaustion your adrenaline had staved off. Liu didn’t move you, he just smiled down at your sleeping form, shuffling slightly to settle down himself. He finally finds sleep with you in his arms, finding the same sort of comfort in you that you had found in him.

#liu kang #liu kang x reader #liu kang fluff #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat movie #ludi lin #requested #please request #requests open #x reader #x reader requests

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

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Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 20 of 27: Love

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHOOSE ME INSTEAD MASTERLIST CHOOSE ME INSTEAD PLAYLIST

A/N: I posted this a little later because on Sunday I had the idea to do this. If you want to participate, feel free to do so! I received some amazing ideas and messages already! Thank you so much for them! Now, enjoy this little chapter <3

Words: 3070 Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: none

Three weeks after the Winter Dance …

On a Tuesday evening in March, clouds gathered over Hogwarts and darkened the sky. The few students who had been outside despite the cold wind had mere seconds to sprint to the castle before the gates to the heavens opened. Rain began to pour down, drenching everyone. You were one of those students.

You cursed once you got inside and whipped out your wand to cast a drying spell while hoping your Potions book wasn’t completely ruined. Even though Snape was no longer around to retract at least fifty housepoints for it, you still didn’t want to deal with Slughorns disappointed look that he’d give you. “Oh thank Merlin,” you mumbled when you saw that it was fine.

“Here, you lost this.”

You almost dropped your book when you heard the familiar voice. “Hermione!”, you said surprised.

The brown-haired girl stood in front of you, holding out a quill that had slipped out of your bag when you reached for the wand. She smiled awkwardly.

“Thank you.” You took the quill from her. She nodded but stayed silent, burying her hand in the pocket of her jacket. It had been three weeks since you last talked to her. The morning after the Winter Dance, you had tried to get her to talk to you. She refused and sent Ginny to let you know that she needed space. You tried one more time a few days later but still – Hermione didn’t want to see you.

Your own emotions shifted from guilt that you didn’t tell her, to anger that she didn’t want to speak to you for three freaking weeks, and then back to guilt because you knew you screwed up with your lies. Now that she was here, you understood that you just missed her. You missed not being able to talk and laugh with your friend.

“Where are you going?”, Hermione asked.

“To the common room.”

She hesitated and looked back and forth between you and the stairs behind you. “Can I come?”

Relief washed over you. That could only mean that she wanted to talk. “Sure,” you replied and smiled at her.

You walked together in silence for the first pair of stairs. Only when you turned a corner and entered the hall that lead to the next stair, did she speak up. Her words surprised you.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked at her, stunned. “What for?”

Her gaze was fixated on her shoes. “For not coming to you earlier. I was embarrassed.”

You frowned. “I’m the one who lied to you, Hermione.”

“I know,” she sighed, still not looking at you. “But I overreacted.”

You snorted. Not because you found this situation particularly amusing – to be honest, it was ridiculous. You stopped walking, Hermione did the same.

“You didn’t.” You shook your head. “Seriously. I should have told you the day it first happened. You’re my friend and what I did was wrong.” You paused. “I hurt you. And I’m deeply sorry for that.”

For the first time since you started walking, Hermione looked at you. She pursed her lips but there was no anger written on her face. When she spoke, there was certainty in her voice: “I know. What you did wasn’t okay.”

You couldn’t agree more. “You’re right.”

“I’m not mad that you slept with him, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Although … it’s a little weird.” She wrinkled her nose and you chuckled softly.

“No, but I’m not mad about it”, you friend repeated herself. “He didn’t cheat on me. We weren’t dating then and …”, she hesitated, “I had my fun as well.”

You raised an eyebrow at her confession. “Oh?”

You could have sworn that a soft shade of red colored her cheeks but then again, it was rather dark in the hallway. Hermione gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ll tell you about that later.”

Before you had the chance to say anything else, she continued: “Both of you obviously didn’t handle … the end of your whatever it was that you two had very well. I had my suspicions to be honest. You were both acting strange and not talking to each other for months.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

Hermione shrugged. “I thought that if my suspicions were correct … you would have come to me.”

You looked down when you heard that. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“Also, it sucked hearing it from Malfoy. Of all the people who could’ve told me.” She shook her head. “See, that’s the next thing. Malfoy knew, Ron knew, Ginny and you knew … It hurt being the only who didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s fine,” Hermione replied, her voice a little softer now.

You looked up at her. “It’s not.”

“It is,” she smiled at you. “Honestly, I’m not mad anymore. It just took me some time to realize it.”

You stared at her, somehow expecting this to be a test or a joke. You couldn’t believe she would forgive you for lying so long so easily. However, Hermione simply stood in front of, waiting for you to react.

“I missed you so much.” The words came from deep down within you, along with the relief and happiness that flooded your mind right this second. You pulled her into a tight hug.

Hermione laughed before returning the hug. “Missed you too,” she then mumbled.

“What about Ron though?”, you asked after a while and took a step back.

“What about him?”

You tilted your head. “Did you talk about it?”

“No,” she said calmly but couldn’t hide the way the corners of her lips twitched. “No, he deserves to suffer a little longer.”

Only one more lie left.

***

Four weeks after the Winter Dance …

“We already had a lesson on Amortentia in our sixth year, Professor,” Pansy whined and the sound instantly caused you to roll your eyes.

��Your exams are here sooner than you think,” Professor Slughorn replied, facing the blackboard. “I believe a little repetition will do you good.”

Exams. The word caused you to crinkle your nose. They were so close and yet you felt so far behind. It seemed as all you did was study but between the fight with Hermione and the drama with Astoria, your attention was certainly split.

Astoria … You looked over to her table where she stood next to Millicent Bulstrode, nose buried in the Potions book. Draco had told you some of what went down between him and her in the Room of Requirements. He said that he knew the reason why she wanted to marry him but he had also no right to let you know. It didn’t help your restless mind. You spent hours speculating and brooding over it. Was she sick? Would her parents disown her if she didn’t marry Draco? You wouldn’t be surprised by something like that. Was she pregnant?

None of your theories made any sense to you and Draco was steadfast. He didn’t comment on them or give you any more clues. You had to respect his ability to keep a secret.

“I think I did it wrong, can you smell anything?”, Theos voice pulled you from your thoughts.

The Slytherin came up to your table. Since the Winter Dance, you had spent increasingly more time with Draco and he had sneaked you in their common room on more than one occasion. It had resulted in you becoming friendly with Nott.

“Where’s Blaise?”, you asked as you stirred the liquid in the cauldron. “Isn’t he supposed to help you with it?”

Theo shrugged. “Probably off and begging Astoria to go to Hogsmeade with him.”

You chuckled and when you looked over to her table, sure enough, Blaise leaned against it, talking to her. “That’s still going on?”

Theo followed your gaze. “Very unsuccessfully, but yes.” He looked back at you. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“The part of where he’s unsuccessful,” he explained. “She’s set on marrying Draco.”

You shrugged and reached too add the missing ingredient. “I’m set on having pudding for dessert tonight but it probably won’t be served, so let’s see what happens.”

The potion was supposed to be finished now and you leaned over it, carefully.

“You smell something?”, Theo asked again.

You closed your eyes and sniffed. Irritated, you opened them again and looked to your side, expecting Draco to be there. The scent of his cologne, mixed with mint and the smell of summer rain, was overwhelming. He wasn’t there. No, he stood a few feet away, talking to Professor Slughorn. Huh.

“And?”, Theo began to sound a little impatient.

“Yes,” you nodded, still slightly confused. “I smell something.”

He groaned. “It’s my mistake then and not the book’s.” Before he went back to his table, he asked curiously: “What do you smell?”

“Your shampoo, Nott, what else?”, you joked. Just in this moment, Draco came back, catching the last bit of your conversation.

Theo chuckled. “Not in front of Draco, darling.” Then he winked at you and turned around.

The smile still on your face, you looked at Draco. “And? Did Slughorn know?”

Judging by the sour look on his face, the Professor hadn’t been able to answer his question.

“Seriously?”, Draco asked.

You tilted your head. “What?”

“Did you smell his shampoo?”

You stared at him. He avoided your eyes and instead flicked through the pages of the book, pretending as if he was reading something about Amortentia. You saw right through him.

“Are you jealous, Malfoy?”

His hand stopped in mid-air of the page for a second before he cleared his throat. “Of course not,” he replied quickly.

Your smile returned, turning into a full-size grin. “You’re jealous!”

“What would I be jealous about?!”, he sneered. “We’re not dating so …”

The grin stayed plastered on your face. “Right, we’re not but still you’re –”

“Don’t we have work to do?”, he interrupted you and sat down abruptly. “We still need to write down what we did.”

You giggled softly before you sat down next to him and grabbed your quill.

“It was just a joke,” you whispered while writing.

Draco didn’t reply and you were wondering if he had heard you. “What does it smell like for you then?”, he said after a while.

You hesitated. The smell of mint still wafting over to you. “I can’t smell anything today,” you lied. “Still fighting that cold from last week, I suppose.”

“Hmm,” Draco made.

“What do you smell?”

“You, Y/L/N.”

“Right,” you chuckled at his joke. “No, seriously, what do you smell?”

No more words came from him, only a wink. You rolled your eyes and chuckled again, pushing down the strange feeling emerging inside of you. When the class was over, you walked to the Great Hall together. Dinner was served and you had pudding for dessert.

***

Five weeks after the Winter Dance …

“Do you love him?” Hermione sat down across from you and dropped her books on the table.

You didn’t look up from your own studies. “Draco?”

“No.”

You looked up. Oops.

“Ron, of course,” Hermione explained.

“Of course.” Why on earth would you think of Draco first at that question? But more importantly right now – why on earth would Hermione think that you loved Ronald Weasley?! You shook your head. “No, why?”

“I’m trying to understand … your thing.”

You closed your book. “Can I be honest?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Are you serious right now, Y/N?”

Right, honesty was probably the only thing she expected from you these days. “I had a crush on him. I admit that,” you shrugged. You tapped on the cover of the book in front of you with your fingertips, before you continued. “And it hurt when he just dropped me like a hot potato.” The memory, even though it began to fade and become more and more irrelevant, still stung a little. “I don’t love him.” You looked into her eyes. “Never have.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “What about him then?”

“He loves you.” You smiled. “Everyone knows that.”

“But when he’s around you …”, she began.

“He doesn’t love me,” you interrupted her. “He’s just pissed that I’m with Draco.”

Hermione slumped against the back of the chair. “You really think that’s all?”

“Yes.” It was the truth. “His ego is hurt and he got confused. He loves you though. Did he apologize to you?”

Finally, Hermione smiled. A soft, shy smile. “A thousand times. He sent me love letters. God, they were so ridiculous.” She raised a hand to her mouth to hide the smile.

You grinned and reached for her hand. “I think you should give him a chance.”

“I love him so much,” your friend admitted with a soft sigh. Then the smile on her face vanished. “But what if … what if it happens again? With a different girl?”

“Then I will personally kick his butt.” You squeezed her hand tightly and Hermione chuckled. She looked down at the table as if she was thinking about something.

“Do you love him then?” She raised her head again.

“Who?”, you asked, knowing damn well who she meant. However, you were certain your friend knew the answer to her question already.

***

Six weeks after the Winter Dance …

It was cold in the dorm that Draco shared with Blaise and Theo. The fact that you were wrapped in nothing but a black towel, didn’t help much with it. You shivered when you closed the bathroom door behind you and quickly ran over to the warm bed where your pretend-boyfriend still waited under the covers.

“Can you believe it’s almost April?”, Draco asked while he reached for the sweets on his nightstand. “School is nearly over.”

“Exams are almost here,” you replied, climbed over him and slipped under the blanket.

The Slytherin rolled his eyes as his chewed on another piece of candy. You wondered if they were still yours from the first weekend in Hogsmeade last year. Then Draco turned to face you and propped himself up on his elbows. “Stop playing scared,” it was almost a demand, “you’ll do great and you know it. I barely got to see you these last few weeks.”

“We saw each other every day, Draco,” you countered with a grin.

“It felt less.” He let himself fall on his back and put one arm behind his head.

“Did you make a decision yet?” The question left your mouth before you had time to think about it. This was a sensitive topic for him. Too many uncertainties in his life.

“I always have the option to marry rich,” he joked, looking at the ceiling.

You snorted. “Ha ha.”

***

Seven weeks after the Winter Dance …

“You’re staring. Again.”

Draco and you had found yourselves in his dorm once again. Theo and Blaise spent an awful amount of time at the library lately, giving you the freedom not to rely on the Room of Requirements so often.

It was a Saturday morning. You wished you could tell whether it was a beautiful spring day with birds chirping and beams of sunlight falling through the window – but from here, you were only able to see the green water of the lake.

“I’m not staring,” Draco mumbled. “I’m admiring.”

You smiled and when your eyes met his, a warm feeling spread in your chest. A feeling, you had experienced a lot more often in the past weeks. Sneaking up on you, always in the back of your mind as it tried to tell you something. Something, you already knew but were too scared to put a name on it. So instead, you pushed it back and tried to ignore it. “What are you admiring then?”

“You.” He whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

You pressed yourself closer to his body.

“I love you.”

At first you thought that you had accidentally fallen asleep again and this was some sort of weird dream your brain produced. But your eyes were open and you felt how Draco stopped breathing next to you; surely, this wasn’t a dream. The words had actually left his mouth. He had said them. They were out.

Oh Merlin.

You sat up abruptly. “I’m sorry, what?”

His eyes were wide as he got up as well, turning his back towards you. He walked over to the closet with stiff movements and frantically searched through his drawers. “I don’t know where this came from,” he said in a hardened voice. “Forget it.”

I love you.

The words rung in your ears like the sound of a pot crashing to the ground. You stared at his back. And then, when his eyes flickered over to you, the ringing stopped

I love you.

You were suddenly very calm. “Draco –”

“Forget it,” he interrupted you and slipped over a black shirt. “Just do me the favor and pretend I never said anything.”

“Draco –”

“Draco!” The door flew open and crashed against the wall. You flinched.

Theo stood in the doorway, breathing heavily as if he had just sprinted up the stairs. “Oh, shit, sorry guys,” he exclaimed when he saw you and quickly looked away.

You needed a second to realize that you were sitting in Dracos bed – completely naked. Letting out a surprised gasp, you pulled up the covers.

Draco quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his view. “What do you want, Theo?”, he sneered, making it clear that this was not the right time.

Theo cleared his throat. “Okay, uhm,” he began, “Don’t panic but …”

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But what?”

You would later on call it intuition – but a part of you knew that the moment Theo stepped in, something would change. The tranquility and happiness between Draco and you had been going on for way too long already. You had pushed away the fears and uncertainty and allowed yourself to simply be. You should have known that it would come back to bite you in the ass.

“Spit it out,” Draco demanded.

Over his shoulders, Theo looked at you the same way he had a few weeks back during that Potions lesson. Fear gripped your heart. Sorry, his eyes seemed to say.

“Your mother is in the common room, Draco. She’s talking to Astoria.”

So this was the way it ends.

***

A/N: I hope you liked it! <3 Thank you so much for reading! Quick reminder, if you want to participate in the little thing I’m doing rn, I’d love it. It gives you the chance to add your own personal touch to this story <3

CHAPTER 21

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

𖨆. 04 / all for us

summary: a few weeks later, you’re finally allowed to leave your room. however, you notice something that you later wish you hadn’t.

note: i had the worst headache whilst editing, i apologize for mistakes.

taglist: @the-sun-baby @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @uniquepickle

warnings/notes: cursing, last chapter was the calm before the storm, brutal assault, abuse, manipulation, blood, slight mind break, drugging, use of alcohol

YOU were surprised whenever erwin and levi told you that you'd been good enough to venture the house a little more a few weeks later. you had been doing the same thing as before, sitting in your room and crying, hanging with the two men for two hours, and back to being lonely.

right now, you were stuck in your room. staring out of the window into the garden with dull eyes, silent tears running down your face.

you want to go home and sleep in zeke's arms. you want to tell pieck you love her and you didn't mean what you'd said to her. you wanted to play goofy songs on the piano with bertholdt. you wanted to lay in the sun with porco and reiner while they both commit to a workout routine.

you'd do anything to have that again. anything.

you wiped away your tears whenever you heard footsteps. the door opened to reveal levi followed by his bear of a boyfriend. erwin had on a gentle smile while levi looked the same; irritated.

"c'mon, you're playing for me today," levi grunts and your eyes light up at the opportunity.

you haven't played any instrument since you were taken. your hands missed their place on the objects, fingers delicately strumming the strings or pressing on the keys. they missed their home, just like yourself.

you're glad that they hadn't caught any signs of you crying. if they had, you would've had to stay in the room and talk it out with them.

you obediently follow behind them, nightgown swishing as you walk excitedly. you watch them unlock a door that leads to your quarters, and for the first time you're in the living room without crying.

the living room is big and clean, so much to where you wonder if it's even been touched. you turn your gaze to the left, eyes acknowledge the large, black front door. your eyes widened while the voice in your head screams at you.

'RUN!!!' it says, 'THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE!!’

your eyes dart down to look at the doorknobs and it's locks. the door was left unlocked.

you gulp down the ball starting to form in your throat and try to ignore how you've started to sweat. you look back at levi and erwin, who are not paying any mind to what you do. they made the mistake of not holding your chain and not having one of them walk behind you.

before you can even really think, you're gliding across the room to the door. swinging the door open just as levi and erwin turn to scream at you, and you almost feel your stomach drop at the view before you.

it's a long stone walkway with a gate sitting at the end, almost teasingly. you run quickly, ignoring how the rough stone scrapes roughly against the soles of your feet. the window is rushing through your hair and slapping against your face, something you relish in temporarily.

your legs are starting to ache from how fast you're pumping them, trying to get to the gate as quick as you can. the wind has you tearing up once more, but you reach up and wipe away the small tears.

you ignore the sound of levi's footsteps as well as his and erwin's angry screams, you're so close, you're almost there.

your mind flashes to porco and reiner for a brief moment. you thank them in your head, now happy with how the two would make you race with them during their workout routines sometimes.

you're almost there, your fingers even graze against the black metal of the fence. but your breath is being knocked out of your body as you're tugged backwards.

your chain. your chain was the cause of your demise, it had been loosely swinging behind you and over your shoulder as you ran.

your head along with your back slam against the stone, loud screams of pain bursting through your mouth. you're sliding towards the person your chain is being tugged by, nightgown now tearing apart because of the friction.

levi is above you, eyes looking almost animalistic along with an angry face that stares at you as he huffs to get his breath back. you lay in the fetal position, crying out at the tip of levi's shoe kicks into your stomach. it has you barfing, but as soon as you finish levi's hands are grabbing you by the hair and dragging you back to the house.

but halfway down the pathway, he lets go and it makes you nervous. his foot comes into contact with your nose, blooding immediately gushing out of it. you sob out after he kicks you in the same spot once more, you think you hear a crack.

his foot kicks at your ribs now, taking all the breath out of your body while your eyes go blank. you can't think, even as levi's knuckles connect with your jaw. you spit out blood and cry at the scratch you get from levi's wedding band.

his hand is tangled with your hair, and instead of trying to pull away, he uses it as leverage. he squats onto a knee, eyes widened as he slams your face into the stone. you screech, nails clawing at the rough terrain and look to erwin.

"HELP!!! HELP, PLEASE," you gargle out blood mixed with your spit, reaching a shaking hand to him.

"HE'S GONNA KILL ME, PLEASE," you wail just as levi hits you again.

"that's enough levi," erwin says, now standing behind levi and staring over his shoulder.

you look absolutely damaged. blood, spit, and tears smeared across your face and scrapes all over your fragile body. levi slams your head down one last time, detangling his hand from your hair and storming off.

erwin only sighs and takes you in his arms, ignoring how your whole body trembles the moment he touches it.

"you're ignorant," he shakes his head, "i told you that levi would hurt you if you tried to run, and you didn't listen."

he's placing you onto your bed after he's walked back inside, eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared from irritation. his palm smacks you across your face, and you sob from the pain.

"let me tell you something," he murmurs into your ear, "even if you'd gotten passed the gates, we would've found you."

you're panting and sobbing, wanting erwin to step away from you.

"that little collar of your's has a tracker," he whispers, "you'll never be able to get away."

those are the last words you hear before you black out.

————

you sit in the bathtub a few days later, listening to the gentle singing of erwin as he drenches you in warm water.

it burns against your skin, something you'd pointed out, but they ignore. you supposed it's an extension of your punishment.

when you get out of the bath, erwin tends to your wounds. he puts on a new bandage over the cut on your face from levi's wedding band, and new bandages onto your arms and torso.

later that night, erwin finds you curled in a ball into the corner of your dark closet. hands protectively shielding your head and covering your ears, shoulders quivering as tears run down your face.

"darling," he frowns, "you've got to stop coming in here."

you don't answer, which doesn't surprise him, and only pull your hands closer to yourself. he knows you won't willingly get up, so he brings the tray into the closet.

"i have to feed you, i need you to comply," you relax, hesitantly taking your arms away from your head and lowering your knees onto the floor.

he feeds you in silence, the only noise being the air conditioner coming off and on as he spends his time in there. he notices how you struggle to swallow down your food, probably from how levi's kicks damaged your ribs along with your stomach. before he can leave, he hears your hoarse voice asking for an answer.

"erwin...," you say, "how... how did you guys kidnap me?"

erwin sighs a bit, deciding to get himself comfortable as he begins the story.

————

it was a rainy night, raindrops froze against your skin as they pelted towards the ground. erwin and levi, your newfound friends, had invited you to go drinking with them a couple of weeks prior. you accepted with hesitance, but the hesitance was thrown out of the window whenever you and pieck had gotten in a fight earlier that evening.

you needed to get your mind off of the heated argument, pieck told you that you're a fuck up while you said that you hate her. you knew that you would regret this in the morning, but right now you're way too sad to even give a fuck.

when you enter the club, you find levi and erwin sitting and talking to one another at the bar. they both already have drinks and look as handsome as ever.

you sing out a greeting as you take the stool between them, ordering yourself a fruity drink.

"glad you could make it," erwin smiled to you, bringing his transparent drink to his lips.

"i promised i'd be here! besides, after the night i've had, i deserve to get drunk. what are you two even drinking," you smirked while looking to levi, bumping your shoulder against his.

he rolled his eyes your antics, while erwin spoke, "levi isn't really able to get drunk, but he's drinking whiskey. i'm drinking bourbon. what happened?"

you sighed, but it's cut off whenever the bartender puts your drink onto the counter in front of you.

"my best friend and i got into a fight, something about the house we share and something her cat did. she said i was a fuck up, i said i hated her. we'll be crying and apologizing by tomorrow," you fanned your hand and take a swig of your drink.

erwin opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him with a hoot as you slam the glass back to the counter.

"that's strong!" you laughed, barely noticing how quickly you downed it, "can i have another one?!"

"you shouldn't drink too much," erwin said while he pats your back.

you can't yell at him since levi asks a question before you could, "wanna have shots?"

"yes, please! what should be get," you grinned, the both of you ignoring the disapproving look from erwin.

"kamikaze shots," he smirks, "unless you can't handle it."

"are you fuckin' kidding?! let's go, right now," you're overly excited, slightly buzzed as you move around.

said shots were placed before you and levi. you picked it up and clinked glasses with him as you laugh, slamming it back down to the counter and downing it with a grimace. you shouted out in excitement once again, throwing your hands into the air.

"let's fuckin' go!!"

"let's not," erwin pulled your hands back into your lap, which you giggle at.

levi orders you another drink, you don't exactly hear what it is even whenever the bartender puts it down in front of you. your words are slurring as you laugh and chat with the two of them, eyelids heavy as you feel yourself getting more and more tired.

"hey, (name)," levi pushed his knee against your's, spinning the liquid in his cup around.

"wh... what's up," you grinned stupidly whilst laying your head against the counter.

"we like you, romantically," the statement had you sobering up, eyes shooting open and head shooting up.

"huh? what'd you say? i think i'm really drunk now."

"i said what i said," erwin's slightly panicking over your shoulder, "would you want to be with us?"

you squinted your eyes, temples suddenly throbbing with pain. you came out to have fun, not this.

"no," you sighed sadly, "i don't like you guys like that. plus, i'd feel intrusive."

levi gave a drawn out hum as he takes your drink from the bartender and putting it onto the coaster before you.

"it's okay, don't worry," levi shrugged, hand retreating back to his glass of whiskey.

you sighed in relief and break into a smile, once again drowning yourself in the fruity drink levi's given you. when you slam it back down, you cringe and your face is pulled into a grimace once more.

the drink tasted weird, nothing like the name implied. you try to wrack what alcohol exactly tastes the way this one does, salty. it tastes salty. and it's not like it's only alcohol in the drink, at least you think.

your eyes shoot wide as you come to the realization. this is a rape-date drink. and you've just downed the drink within seconds.

your mouth opened, but nothing but gibberish comes out. the last thing you see before your eyes droop is levi's small smirk with arms opened wide.

————

the story has you recoiling into a ball again, tears streaming out of your face while erwin tries to put a hand on your shoulder.

levi inflicted so much pain. physical and mental. he's the one who got you drunk, he's the one who drugged you, he's the one who slapped you day one, and he's the one who beat you. and erwin helped. erwin ordered.

"don't touch me, please," you whisper, backing yourself further and further into the corner of the closet.

"please, i want to comfort you," he frowns, once again reaching his hand out.

"NO!!" you cry and slap his hand, immediately retracting from fear.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," you fumble with your words and curl inwards more, "please don't hurt me again, please. i don't want to hurt anymore."

erwin's heart aches as you start to tremble, noticing how hard you were digging your nails into your scalp.

"it's okay," he says calmly, "i won't hurt you."

you choke out your words, "but levi will. he'll hurt me again."

erwin stays silent, knowing full well that you were correct. erwin was barely able to smack you without feeling bad, he couldn't imagine kicking you in the ribs. erwin can feel a ball in the back of his throat, picking up the tray in silence and leaving you alone.

you cry as you lay on the floor now, fetal position. you're going to fall asleep soon, and you're okay with you. you feel slightly more protected in the closet on the floor than in your bed.

your eyes are fluttering close.

you hope that you won't get hurt again.

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