#frowning as she began to cry and through a strained voice she told me

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 15 (FINAL)

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*Steve*

The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the first sign Steve had that he was still alive. He came around painfully slow, the sharp smell of disinfectant removing any lingering doubt about where he was.

Someone gasped. “He is waking up!”

That sounded like his sister—It sounded like Eleven! 

Steve desperately tried to open his eyes, strained to lift his head but it was as if every part of him was made of lead. 

“I told you he would.” A much deeper voice said, soothing and calm.

Eddie. 

Oh god, Eddie. 

The two people he loved most in the world were right there and he couldn't even manage to open his fucking eyes. He wanted to cry, only managing a strangled whimper.

What had happened? How were they even here? Was it safe? The hospital was too public, someone would see!

The last thing he remembered were slimy tendrils winding around his limbs, vines holding him down—choking. Vecna looming over him. 

Steve’s heart raced, the sound of the monitor broadcasting his panic to the room as its once even rhythm grew faster and more erratic.

The palm in his, which he hadn’t felt until just then, squeezed, and he felt the soft press of lips to the back of his hand.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Eddie’s breath ghosted over his skin as he spoke. “Everything is alright—It’s over.”

It was enough.

Enough to let him relax, to allow himself to slip back into a restful state. Lighter now,  sleep rather than true unconsciousness. He had so many questions, and he wasn’t totally without worry but if Eddie said it was alright—he believed him. 

Some time later, minutes or hours, he woke again—the heavy feeling in his body almost gone and he was finally able to blink his eyes open. 

Bright fluorescent lights and white ceiling tiles filled his vision at first, and then a familiar face with big brown eyes and a halo of unruly dark curls came into view as Eddie stepped close, hovering over him. 

His boyfriend grinned, bright and beautiful. Steve smiled back, couldn’t not, the tubes delivering oxygen through his nose tickling his upper lip. He reached up to pull it off his face and tried to sit up. Eddie's hands were on him in a flash, lifting and helping to settle him into a sitting position, at the same time El appeared at his side, sliding a spare pillow behind his back.

“El,” He sobbed her name, reaching for her over the side rails of his bed, pulling her into a half hug as best he could manage.  

She pulled back too soon and began looking him over, concern pinching her small features.“How are you feeling?” 

“Fine,” he rasped, throat dry. Again Eddie was right there, ready with a cup of water, bringing the straw up to his lips. “Thank you,” he said, sounding much clearer after a few greedy gulps of the cool liquid.

Steve looked around, noticing for the first time that the three of them were not alone. Wayne sat a few feet away in the corner of the room, giving them space for their reunion but watching on fondly. 

Suddenly Eddie’s hands were back, warm where they touched his cheek, this time gently placing the tubes back over his face. Steve frowned up at him. 

“You were in that place for a full day, we have no idea what kind of shit you breathed in—when he allowed you to breathe. Humor me, okay?” He was still putting on a happy face but Steve didn’t miss the way Eddie’s voice shook.

He nodded meekly, sliding their hands back together, and grabbed onto El with the other—thankful his IV line was long enough to reach.

“What happened?” He asked.

Eddie bit his lip. “Are you sure you want to hear this now?” He sounded nervous.

“Go on,” Wayne prodded, finally rising from his seat to join the vigil at Steve’s bedside. “Tell him all about how you two idiots decided to go on suicide missions.”

Steve snapped his gaze back to Eddie, eyes bouncing between him and El as his blood turned to ice in his veins. “What does he mean suicide missions?”

Eddie sighed deeply, sharing a heavy look with El, both of them still clinging to Steve’s hands. “I think we’d better start at the beginning.”

Hesitantly, they explained to him how they’d woken in the morning to find him gone from the cabin, and after searching the surrounding woods, slowly began to put the pieces together. Eleven told him how she’d searched and searched and come up with nothing, how Eddie dove head first into recovering his memories, desperately hoping it would lead to anything that might be useful. 

Though it clearly seemed to pain him, Eddie told him every detail of what he’d learned—that Henry might be his father, about his fickle powers—how he’d seen that something was coming but made no move to stop it—that in the end he’d run, leaving Eleven behind to fight the monster all on her own.

Finally, they both admitted to him how they’d snuck out of their beds, each thinking it was their responsibility alone to fix things, not wanting to risk anyone else, only to literally bump into each other in the Upside Down. Somehow, Steve wasn’t surprised. 

Inwardly, he sighed. At least they’d been together.

Outwardly, he fumed. “What were you thinking?!”

“I had to!” Eddie insisted sharply. He tried to pull his hand out of Steve's grip and turn away, but Steve held strong, refusing to let him hide. “I—can’t you see this is my fault? All of it?”

“You were a kid, Eddie.”

Eddie scoffed. “You mean the spawn of evil?”

“Even if he was your father, you are the furthest thing from evil there is. None of this is on you, baby.”

Steve froze, realizing what he’d said, and belatedly, the way they’d been acting with each other in the short time he’d been awake. He’d never gotten the chance to talk to Eleven before he was tricked away into the night. 

“El, I–”

“She knows.” Eddie interrupted, ducking his head shyly.

A wide smile spread across the young girl's face. “Eddie said that some people will not like it, and it might have to be a secret to anyone who is not our friend, but I am so happy for you!”

Steve smiled too. “That means a lot, El—and that’s true. Some people just can’t accept what’s different.”

She shook her head “I do not understand why your love should be any different from anyone else’s.”

Steve’s face grew hot, shoulders tense as his mind zeroed in on her use of the L word. “Oh, uh, well, we haven't said–” He stuttered, chancing a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes gone soft, shining, and full of such sincere affection— and Steve knew he must look exactly the same. 

Maybe they hadn't said the words yet, but there was no point in denying that the feeling was there—though they’d known each other such a short time. They’d get to the words eventually.

Wayne wound up finishing the rest of the story. He spoke of himself and the others figuring out what Eddie and El had done—how they rallied and gone into the Upside Down to help. He glossed over most of the details of the fight, which Steve was grateful for, but assured him that Henry was dead and everyone else was alive. The only thing that really mattered. 

Hopper had gotten pretty banged up. He’d make a full recovery, but was being treated in another room on the same floor—and though Wayne didn’t say it, Steve could see that the man’s own movements were stiff, and knew it meant he'd fought tooth and nail for them too. 

He’d also caught sight of the ligature marks around El and Eddie’s necks, and couldn't help wondering what other bumps and bruises Eddie was hiding under his clothes.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—but most of all for keeping these two safe.” Steve said when the man was done, inclining his head. “I do have a few questions.”

Wayne nodded. “I reckon it’s more than a few, but go ahead.”

“What about Brenner, and the lab—whatever’s left of the program anyway. Isn't it dangerous for us all to be out in public like this? What do we do now?”

There was a swift knock on the doorframe that seemed to come in direct reply to his question, as well as a familiar face walking hesitantly into the room wielding a clipboard and a thick envelope. 

“I think I might be able to help answer that.” Doctor Owens said, stopping short at the end of Steve’s bed.

Steve stared at him in disbelief. “Doc?” He said nervously, a little unsure if he should be relieved to see the man or bracing for a fight. 

Eddie squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, he’s been helping us. You were right, he’s one of the good ones.”

“Trying to be, anyway,” Owens deflected, tilting his head. “I still have a lot to make up for, and not just to the people in this room.” 

“What about the fire? How did you..?”

“The lab was mostly deserted at the time. Brenner had all hands out in the community looking for the two of you when he realized Eleven was gone. It’ll be blamed on a chemical spill, but we know now that the fire was due in part to Henry’s reopening of the gate in the basement.”

Owens paused, looking at them all in turn.

“First, I want to assure you that you’re all safe. I’ve flipped, as the saying goes, on Brenner, given him up to the government and told them everything they need to make sure he’ll pay for what he’s done. I’m sad to say the program was state sanctioned, but they don’t look kindly on their scientists going rogue, leaving deaths unreported, hiding valuable assets. It’s not what he should be prosecuted for, but at least it’s something—assuming he’s left alive long enough for a trial.”

“That takes care of Brenner, but what about the others, there must be files, film?” Eddie asked.

“All of which was officially lost in the fire. Records will show that the subjects known as Five and Eleven died in the blaze. Speaking of records—”

Owens pulled a folder from his clipboard, holding it out to Eddie. “I have something for you, if you still want to know the truth.” 

Eddie took the file with shaking hands, flipping it open straight away. His eyes were guarded at first, hesitant as they flicked over the pages, but the corners of his mouth slowly lifted as he read on.

“Where are they now?” Eddie asked abruptly.

Owens gave him a sympathetic look, mouth set into a thin line as he shook his head.

Eddie’s shoulders slumped. “They’re dead, aren't they?”

“I’m sorry, truly. They both overdosed a few years ago.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“Henry—it was a lie. He wasn’t my…” Eddie shook his head, a wry smile crossing his face. “I was given up for adoption as a baby. He wasn’t my father, it was a trick.”

Steve reached for him, running a hand over his side. His heart ached, Eddie had to be feeling so torn. 

“They were troubled teen parents,” Owens explained further, “tricked into giving you to Brenner, who was fascinated by the idea of experimenting on an average newborn, thinking they were doing right by their baby and giving him the chance at a better life.”

Eddie swallowed hard, passing the folder back. “You can do what you want with that, shred it I guess. I’ve got Wayne, and so many others now. I'm—it’s alright.”

The Doc nodded as if he understood, giving Eddie one more long look, smiling sadly. “We need to talk about El. She’s going to need a new identity—a name, family connections.”

Eleven gasped, “Does Steve get a new name too?”

Steve, who’d been busy worrying about Eddie, perked up at that, excited at the prospect of no longer being a Harrington, and maybe being able to call Eleven his sister for real. He looked at Owens expectantly.

“We’re using your disappearance and subsequent return as part of the cover story I'm afraid, and after speaking with Mr. Munson,” He gestured at Wayne with his clipboard. “I thought all of you might like to stay, in Hawkins that is. It would be hard to pass yourself off as someone else with such a recognizable face, Steve. Don’t you think?”

Steve whipped his head back around to look at El and Eddie, and found the other boy gaping at him right back, a matching look of shock on his face. 

“We get to stay?” Eddie’s voice wobbled as he posed the question. It was aimed at Owens but he never took his eyes off Steve.

“I don’t see any reason why not. As far as the public knows, a John Doe—Steve—you were staying at the lab and being treated for amnesia. You got lost running to evacuate the building in the fire, and Eddie here found you injured and wandering in the woods. He and his uncle recognized you, and brought you to the hospital where you were treated for smoke inhalation. It explains why Mr. Carver saw you at Eddie’s trailer the other night, as I understand it he’s been raising a fuss about that, and leaves you free to keep your own identity and re-enter society.”

“Well, if I'm staying… me, can I adopt Eleven? I’m over eighteen. I mean, I couldn't be her parent, but I'm already her brother in all the ways that count. Can’t we make that true?”

“That would, unfortunately, necessitate your parents' involvement, since she’d have to take their name.”

“Oh.”

“I did have another solution in mind.” Owens took a step towards Wayne, offering him a thick brown envelope. “If you’re interested in becoming an Uncle again, that is.”

Wayne undid the clasp, pulling out the first bit of paper he put his hands on. It was a birth certificate. He huffed a joyful laugh, turning it around to show the rest of them. 

The page read: Jane Eleanor Munson.

And bore the same names for mother and father that’d been used for Eddie’s forgery, making them full blooded siblings in the eyes of the law.

“Jane Eleanor—El—Munson, I like it.” Eddie beamed. 

“What d’ya say Ellie, you wanna live with me and Eddie for good?” Wayne asked.

El looked from Wayne to Steve and back again, her bottom lip trembling. “But, what about Steve?”

“Well I can't adopt him, honey, he’s over 18,” Wayne said, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “and I think Eddie would kill me If I made Steve family before he could do it himself.”

“Wayne,” Eddie groaned. 

El giggled. 

“I’d love for you to both come live with us.” Wayne met Steve’s eyes, and he knew the man meant it. “But what about your folks?”

“They didn’t come back when I was missing, I don't see them wanting to be part of my life now that I'm back.”

“The hospital staff has called and left several messages for them,” Owens cut in. “Last I heard, they hadn’t called back.”

It probably should have been upsetting to hear, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to care. They certainly never had. 

“That’s that then. I think we’re gonna need a bigger trailer, kids.” Wayne said.

“Keep looking through that envelope.” Owens advised, chuckling. “It’s not much, only a three bedroom, but It was the best I could do.” 

Wayne rifled through the rest of the paperwork, and sure enough tucked in with El’s documents was the deed to a house on Cherry street, and if Steve wasn’t mistaken it was right next to Max and Robin’s houses. 

-

As bad as things had been before, not just during his time at the lab, but as far back as he could remember—his all but meaningless existence as the forgotten son of Richard and Lorraine Harrington—in the aftermath of Henry’s defeat and the gain of their new-found freedom things were better than Steve could ever have dreamt.

Life was good.

It wasn’t perfect, of course.

It took time to adjust to their new normal, to stop living in survival mode and just be. 

The new house was a bit of a fixer-upper, with ancient wiring and a water heater that only worked half the time—and it took months for the gossip about Steve’s sudden return, the whispers and rumors about why he was suddenly living with the Munson’s—not to mention their other new addition, to die down. 

But none of that mattered when they were happy. 

For the first time in her life, El got to be a kid. They enrolled her in school, enlisting Nancy, Chrissy, and Robin to tutor her in the subjects she struggled with—which was most of them—but that was okay. She loved it. And though Steve worried, because he knew how cruel kids could be, with Max, Dustin, and the other boys as her guard dogs, he was sure Eleven would be just fine. 

Eddie, for his part, tried to go back to school, but he’d barely been scraping by with a passing grade before Steve had come along, and with all the days of school missed because of his refusal to leave Steve’s side for at least two weeks after his release from the hospital, he’d lost any chance of graduating.

There was no sign of his powers after the battle with Henry. When Steve asked him about it, Eddie told him how in a fit of despair and hopelessness he’d caused a powerful psychic blast that had finally put Henry down long enough for them to set him alight, finishing him for good. They kept waiting for it to return, but even months later Eddie hadn’t had so much as a weird dream. If his visions did come back, they’d deal with it, but he was perfectly fine living his life without random and confusing glimpses into the past, present, and future. 

Going back to Hawkins high hadn’t been a viable option for Steve. He was told he’d have to repeat his junior year, as well as go through a senior year, and was advised that getting a GED was his best foot forward given the circumstances. Uncle Wayne had raised hell down at the school, finding it unbelievable that they wouldn’t give him a break, but Principal Higgins was unrelenting. 

Steve didn’t mind, he and Eddie could do it on their own. They could study and take the test together. It felt right to take that step into the next part of their lives as a team.  

They got jobs. 

When they weren’t busy preparing for the big test, Steve was working at Family Video. Robin managed to get him the job with her after promising her boss Keith that he’d be a magnet for curious babes wanting to see the returned heartthrob in person. And Eddie found a place as an apprentice at an auto body shop, quickly discovering that he had a knack for engines. He loved working with his hands—and Steve secretly loved how he’d come home smeared with grease, filthy and smelling of motor oil.   

They made love for the first time while camping out by Skull Rock. A special place that held so much meaning for them now. Somewhere they often went to be alone, to escape the house when El was home and Max was over and Wayne was bustling around and their need for each other was too much to hide soft and silent behind thin walls. 

They’d logged countless hours thoroughly exploring each other’s bodies with hands and mouths. Months of learning the taste of each other, the feel, what touch worked best to bring each of them to the brink. But the first time Steve pushed his way inside, the first time their bodies were joined as close as two people could be, it was with the stars and Skull Rock as their witness.

Steve took care in opening Eddie up, not wanting his first time to be anything other than exquisite pleasure. He worked his fingers inside the tight heat of Eddie’s body, his movements slow and sweet and gentle—teasing, until Eddie’s legs were shaking and he was begging Steve to just fuck him already—needing the closeness—needing Steve. And Steve gave himself happily—thoroughly. He showed Eddie how much he loved him with every thrust, gazing into his eyes until they both lost themselves to the ecstasy of their release. 

The first time they said the words was under the same stars, the same night’s sky when they were spent and sated, sweat still drying on their skin as they curled around each other inside their shared sleeping bag, on the edge of drifting off. 

“I love you.” Steve breathed the words into the skin of Eddie’s shoulder, punctuating them with a tender kiss. 

Eddie nuzzled his face further into Steve’s neck, grazing teeth over his pulse point before whispering back, “I love you too.”

-

It had been a nerve-wracking six weeks to the day since they’d taken the high school equivalency test. 

Eddie was convinced he had failed, not that he needed the slip of paper to continue training as a mechanic, the guys at the shop had already promised him a full time job when he was done, but it was the principle of the thing. 

Steve was… cautiously optimistic about his chances. After everything, he finally knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to help people, kids like El who’d had no one looking out for her best interests, but in order to become a social worker he needed to go to college, and in order to get into college he needed this GED.

It had become a daily ritual, checking the mail together before dinner, waiting for their fate to arrive in matching envelopes. 

El joined them today, and they let her have the honor of opening the rusty mailbox. She flipped the lid down, and there they were, mixed among the sales flyers and a past due electric bill, two large white mailers bearing their names and the words, do not bend, stamped on the front 

They traded packets, carefully tearing into them for each other at the same time.

Eddie let out a powerful whoop, loud and ecstatic.

“I knew it! Sweetheart, you did it! I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you.”

Steve broke out in a deep blush, turning Eddie’s own results around to show him as well. “So did you, baby.” 

“No shit!” Eddie gasped. 

Steve reached for him, at the same time Eddie reached back, and if they hadn’t been out on the street would have pulled him into a kiss and not let him go until they were both too out of breath to continue. For now he settled for gripping his boyfriend's arm and smiling down at his sister. Her joy for them evident in the way she jumped up and down clapping her hands at the good news. He couldn’t wait to tell Wayne.

It would never stop amazing Steve how he could have stumbled upon something so wonderful and beautiful in the middle of the worst time in his life. Nothing had been the same since the night he found Eleven wandering in the rain, and even knowing what he’d gone through, the pain he’d endured, he knew he’d do it all again if it meant he’d end up right here with his new family, the love of his life, and his sister, finally safe, by his side. 

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜

Taglist: @newtstabber @goodolefashionedloverboi @adaed5 @buckleybarnes @soaringornithopter @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @bestwifehaver @5ammi90 @sofadofax @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @hardboiledleggs @epiclazershark @herebedragons404 @estrellami-1 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @the-s-is-silent @brbsoulnomming @goinsteddie @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @thestarslittleking

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

It Wasn't Your Fault

Deanna Troi x betazoid!reader (platonic!)

You were finally off-duty after a Night Shift, and you slumped down on your bed as soon as you returned to your quarters. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out in a satisfying sigh, you forced yourself to approach the replicator. “Hot chocolate.” You ordered, offering a tired smile in thanks to the replicator as the delicious sweet beverage appeared. You took the mug in your hand, cradling it’s warmth into your chest before taking a large sip. Finally, you could give in to your exhaustion and get ready for bed.

Making your way over to the mirror, you pulled your hair out of its style and into a more relaxed state. Removing the jacket and placing it on the bed, you suddenly saw the flash of an image in your mind, intrusive and unwelcome. You shook your head believing yourself just to be tired and therefore more susceptible to the stronger emotions of the crew. Moving to grab your pyjamas, you suddenly saw another image. You gasped, dropping your pyjamas on the floor in alarm.

You reached to tap your combadge to call for help, but your hand only found the fabric of the undershirt. Your badge was still attached to your jacket. Trying to reach for it, your mind was invaded with so many images and this time they didn’t stop. You collapsed onto your knees, clutching your head and crying for it to stop.

Meanwhile the senior staff were engaged in a meeting in the conference room, Captain Picard was running through each head of department’s status reports. Deanna’s brows furrowed as she sensed your alarm after the first few flashes of intense imagery. She tried to telepathically ask you if you were alright, but she found for some reason that she couldn’t get through to you. “Counsellor?” Will prompted Deanna, clearly seeing that something wasn’t right. “Deanna.” He called again, his hand resting on her shoulder as she frowned up at him.

“It’s Y/N. Something is… really… wrong.” Deanna’s voice became strained as she began to feel the stress and panic that you were feeling as you cried out for the images to stop. “Beverly, they need our help now.” Doctor Crusher nodded, and Captain Picard gave his consent for the pair to go and see what was wrong. They quickly stopped by sickbay to pick up a medkit, and Deanna urged them to hurry. “I think they’re under a telepathic attack. I can sense a presence in their mind that I can only describe as not belonging to them.” Deanna raised a hand to her temples, struggling to maintain composure. She could tell how much pain you were in.

They reached your quarters and Beverly punched in the code for a medical override. Deanna rushed in to find you on the floor, jerking and thrashing about, mumbling incoherently under your breath. Tears stained your cheeks and you seemed to be fighting with air. Beverly soon joined Deanna, kneeling down beside you and assessing your state with a frown. She realised this was perhaps a betazoid problem best dealt with by a betazoid. “How can I help, Deanna?”

The counsellor remained silent for a few moments, as she probed your mind and tried to read what was happening. There definitely was a force invading your mind, for what purpose Deanna wasn’t sure. She worried that she couldn’t really help, after all if as a full betazoid you couldn’t protect yourself against the presence, then as only a half-betazoid she wouldn’t be any better.

“I need something to lower their psilosynine levels. That should help to decrease their telepathic field and lower the intruder's reach over their mind.” Deanna told Beverly, while she tried to telepathically call out to you. At first, you looked straight past her, clearly unaware of their presence. Then, as Doctor Crusher administered the hypospray into your neck, you looked straight at Deanna.

She tried again to communicate with you, but you lashed out at her, fighting against her in your head. “No, no! Leave me alone!” You cried, your hands balled into fists as you continued thrashing at Deanna. “What’s happening?” Beverly asked in alarm. “It’s helped them, but they think I’m a threat to them. It might be better to sedate them, then I won’t have to fight them to drive out the intruder.”

Beverly prepared another hypospray as Deanna tried her best to calm you and show she was your friend, not your enemy. You were too far gone though to even comprehend anything she was saying to you. All you knew was that you had to defend yourself. Doctor Crusher injected the second hypospray and the pair waited for a few seconds. Your thrashing soon slowed down, then you relaxed completely. It wasn’t more than a minute when you became unconscious.

They quickly transferred you to sickbay, before Deanna got to work driving the intruder from your mind. She sat by your side, holding your hand, while Beverly hovered by your side with a medical tricorder. The counsellor was clearly having a difficult time to overpower the strange presence. Finally, after an hour, Deanna drew back with a tired but relieved smile. Beverly glanced down at the screen of the tricorder, smiling in satisfaction to see all your vital signs were slowly beginning to return to normal.

The pair waited for you to regain consciousness naturally. Beverly continued her work in sickbay, glancing over at your biobed every couple of minutes. Meanwhile, Deanna used her combadge to contact the Captain and inform him of the situation. He decided to wait to have a report from you about what happened before taking any action. Deanna could sense that Picard would be too impatient to wait for the length of time it would take for you to truly recover to produce such a report. However, for now, she didn’t say anything.

After a couple of hours, Counsellor Troi sensed you were slowly coming to. She sat up straighter in her seat and leaned forward, her hand resting on your forearm. “Y/N?” She called out to you, grabbing the attention of Doctor Crusher, who seconds later was hovering over you with a tricorder.

Slowly and lethargically, you opened your eyes. Beverly asked how you were feeling, but you didn’t respond, merely staring into space. The Doctor glanced concernedly at Deanna, a silent plea for help. The counsellor smiled gently down at you, calling out your name again telepathically. This managed to capture your attention, as you turned your head to look at your fellow betazoid.

“Y/N, do you remember what happened to you?” Deanna asked you, quickly sending a comforting smile Beverly’s way as she sensed the Doctor’s unease at being unable to hear the conversation between you. “Yes.” You affirmed, and you felt the wave of relief radiating from the counsellor. “Can you tell me?” You hesitated for a second, a tear rolling down your cheek. “No.” You replied, turning away from them both, though you knew this wouldn’t hide anything from Deanna.

“Oh, Y/N…” You heard Deanna sigh out loud as she comfortingly stroked your arm while standing up. “What is it?” Beverly asked, clearly impatient to learn what was going on. Deanna gently held up a hand to Beverly, silently asking her to be patient. She could tell that your mind was exhausted and injured from your experience, and that telepathic communication would be the best way to help you.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Deanna began, walking away from the biobed and towards the replicator. “It was. I should have been stronger. I should have been keeping up with my mental exercises. I’ve let myself grow weak.” Deanna shook her head to herself, a ghost of a sad smile appearing for a second. “You are too hard on yourself. You have had a lot of responsibility here on the Enterprise recently, trying to increase your psionic abilities would have meant you would have no rest period. You know that is not healthy.” She paused in front of the replicator. “Computer, hot chocolate.” Deanna ordered out loud, scooping the mug into her hands as she made her way back over to you.

She knew you were crying before she heard the quiet sniffles and sobs, and she hoped that the sweet treat that you’d been intending to enjoy would help calm you a little. “Beverly, may they?” Deanna gestured to the mug in her hand. Beverly came closer and scanned you again, smiling in confirmation. “I see no reason why not, everything is returning to normal and it may help speed up the process.”

The counsellor stopped in front of you, holding out the hot chocolate for you to take. You slowly shifted to sit up, Beverly rushing to your side to support you as you wobbled slightly. You snatched the mug and cradled it into your chest, the warmth providing some minor comfort. “Thank you, Deanna.” You offered telepathically. “Is it helping?” You took a sip of the sweet drink, smiling for the first time since you awoke as the trickle of warmth down your throat helped to combat the pit of cold dread in your stomach. To finally answer Deanna’s question, you nodded, looking up at the pair as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but is there anything important that we need to know? Is there any threat the captain should be made aware of?” Deanna dared to ask, with a concerned look. She did not expect the strong wave of embarrassment and shame that radiated from you, and she almost regretted asking as you broke down into shuddering, loud sobs.

Beverly cautiously took the mug from your hands to save you from spilling away, which gave Deanna the opportunity to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug. You leant against her, a hand gripping onto her arm as you let all your emotion out. In this wave of devastation, you projected an image of what happened to the counsellor, unable to conceal it. Deanna gasped, her arms squeezing you tighter as a tear rolled down her own cheek in understanding.

The two of you hugged for several minutes as you let out all your distress, Deanna piecing together the whole story based on all the thoughts and images you shared. Once you had calmed down enough, you gestured to Beverly to regain your hot chocolate, and Deanna let go. “Beverly, Y/N has shared information about what happened to them that I think the captain should know about. But I think a telepath needs to remain with them for now until they have recovered.” The Doctor smiled gently at you, hoping she was providing a comforting presence for you. “Say no more, tell me what I need to know and I’ll go report to the captain.”

The pair moved slightly away from you, though they knew of course you could understand every word. Deanna kept reassuring you telepathically while she was talking to Beverly, and you felt much calmer as you dipped on your hot chocolate. The Doctor soon left sickbay and Deanna grabbed her own mug of the sweet beverage, before hopping up onto the biobed. Together, you began talking about happier subjects in companionable silence.

[lost-in-sokovia]

peony getting worried about jay coming home with cuts and bruises on him, not only worrying her mother but scaring her?

this is so old, im sorry, but today is my peony day☺️

good girl

“get him inside, come on!”

k and blond hurriedly brought your boyfriend inside of your small house, you directing them over to the couch. it was late at night, your daughter was already asleep and you hoped she wouldn’t be awaken to find her father in the state he was in. jay was bloodied and bruised, the alf no doubt having another run-in with black chalk. he was unconscious as the two men laid him down in your living room.

“oh jay, baby,” you breathed, kneeling at his side and swiping some of his hair from his closed eyes. it’s caked with blood from a large scratch on his forehead. you frown, grabbing one of his weak hands. this wasn’t the first time you had seen him like this, but it never got any easier. everyone spoke in hushed manners, your house quiet and dark. they knew your daughter was here somewhere, and as peony’s family they were always considerate not to worry her or awake her.

“he held off black chalk while we all scattered,” silver explained quietly. “we told him not to do it… y’know, considering he’s got a family and all, but,” the young man chuckled. “jay does what he wants, always putting us first.”

you chuckle sadly, nodding as you hold your boyfriend’s hand to your cheek. that was your boyfriend, always looking out for others.

“has he been responsive at all?” you asked, beginning to untuck and unbutton his shirt to inspect him for any more injuries on his body.

“he was for a solid five minutes after, but on the way here in the truck he passed out pretty hard,” blond explained. you shook your head as your hands gently ran over his abdomen to check for any gashes or open wounds.

“oh jay,” you sighed. the team spoke quietly to each other and you until you heard red clear her throat.

“hey, incoming,” she whispered. you turned around to find your four year old daughter, dressed in her pink pajamas with her jet black hair all a mess, clutching onto a stuffed cat, standing in the doorway of her room. you cursed internally as k, silver, and blond all stepped in front of jay to shield his appearance from little peony as red walked over to pick her up.

“hi, p,” red greeted softly and ran her hands through peony’s bedhead. you allowed red to take care of your daughter as you continued to inspect your boyfriend, trying to make sure he wasn’t bleeding out anywhere and that his pulse was still okay.

“aunt red,” peony asked in a small voice. “is that daddy?” her bottom lip was pouted and her usually sparkling green were shiny with tears. red hesitates, looking to you still fussing over unconscious jay and the guys still trying to cover him.

“uhm, yeah, it is…” red replied slowly. the tears threaten to spill from your daughter’s eyes and red pressed a kiss to her cheek, cooing to her and telling her that her dad was going to be okay.

“yo, yo,” blond began excitedly as jay started to move. you gasped slightly and hold his face in your hands.

“jay, baby? jay, can you hear me?” you asked frantically. jay groaned, his eyes fluttering open and blinking as he tried to get a grip on his reality. his eyes met yours and he exhaled, letting his head drop back against the couch. “hi,” you cooed sadly, pressing a kiss to his chapped lips. he hummed in response, eyes opening again after you pull away.

“hey man,” k began, standing behind you. “you took a pretty good hit, huh?”

“yeah,” jay strained out. “is everybody else-“

“daddy,” peony whimpered. all eyes darted over to the four year old in red’s arms, reaching her little arms out to her weak father on the couch. “daddy, daddy…” she began to cry. blond walked over and took her into his arms, walking back over to the couch and crouching down near jay.

“hi p,” jay greeted his daughter weakly. tears were flowing from her green eyes and you frowned, wiping a few of them away. “oh, please don’t cry, my love…” he pleaded.

“wanna lay with you,” peony whined, eyes glancing to jay’s body. you looked to your daughter in blond’s arms, opening your mouth hesitantly.

“baby, daddy might be too weak right now, let’s let him rest-“

“no,” jay interrupted. he locked eyes with you knowingly for a moment, and you exhale. “it’s fine… give her here.” blond cautiously set peony on top of jay and her arms and legs wrapped around the width of his body, her teary face nuzzling into his neck as jay wrapped his arms around her. “good girl… good girl, peony…” he exhaled, letting his eyes close again.

“your dad’s gonna be just fine, kid,” silver commented gently. the other teammates agree and you lay your head against jay’s shoulder, him turning his head to press a kiss to it.

“i’ll be fine, i’m fine,” jay reassured weakly. you took a moment; though it wasn’t in the best circumstances, you were together with your little family, and it made your heart beat happily in your chest.

you heard peony let out a shaky sob as jay gently hushed her, the ever-caring father he was. you knew he’d be okay.

[luminnara]

Omega Depression || Alpha!Kiribaku x Omega!fem!reader

Hi! Can I request an alpha!Kiribaku x omega!fem!reader where she is strong on the outside, but sensitive on the inside. Then, some asshole alpha comes and insults her saying that she isn't worthy of having alphas and other super mean stuff that makes her go to omega depression. After that, she confines and isolates herself in her room, not allowing her alphas to enter. Days pass, she misses school for like a week, and her alphas are tired of waiting, so they bust the door and find their omega deep in omega depression and starving herself, and they're super worried and try to help her get out of it, cause she could die if not. The rest can be little angst with a fluffy happy ending!

Yo I live for alpha kiribaku, not gonna lie

Warnings: angst, mental health stuff, depression, eating disorder/starvation stuff, abo

Requests are open!

You were always happy with your alphas. Bakugou and Kirishima were the loves of your life, you were sure of it. The three of you got along well, and there was nothing you enjoyed more than spending time with your boys. You kept up with them easily, never having trouble when it came to handling Katsuki’s temper or Eijiro’s enthusiasm. They loved protecting you, too, not that you ever really seemed to need it; you were tough as nails, as far as everyone was concerned. 

You weren’t, though, not really. 

“What a useless little omega.”

The words kept repeating in your head, over and over.

“Two alphas? Yeah, right. You don’t even deserve one, not with an uppity attitude like that.”

They kept echoing, no matter what you tried to do. 

“What a stupid bitch. They should just leave your sorry ass. You aren’t worthy of anyone, much less alphas.”

You curled in on yourself. You felt sick to your stomach. How could someone say that about you? How could a shitty alpha go and ruin your mood, and your day, by saying something so awful?

“I am worthy!” You had argued. “And we’re happy together, so just fuck off.”

“Oh yeah? Then why haven’t they claimed you yet?” His lips had pulled over his teeth in a sick grin. “You know they’re just biding their time, waiting for something better to come along. You’re nothing to them.”

The little spat had been earlier that morning. It was rare that you ever went out alone; usually Eijirou or Katsuki or both of them were stuck to you like glue, but this had been one of those instances when you had absolutely insisted you would be fine. After all, you were just running a couple errands. You weren’t even going very far from campus. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?

Well...this, apparently.

You had rejected the advances of an alpha who had been eyeing you for quite some time. He was annoying and his scent always made you recoil, but you would never, not in a million years, have thought that he could hurt you so deeply.

Why were his words even bothering you so much? You knew your boys liked you. They made sure to constantly cover you in their scents, they happily gave up their shirts for you to tuck into your little bed nest, they held your hands and gave you sweet little kisses...

And yet, he was right. They hadn’t claimed you yet. There were no big bite marks on your neck to show the world that you were taken. Why hadn’t it happened yet? You always thought that maybe they were just nervous, and they wanted to wait for the right time. Maybe they wanted to wait until school was over and they were better established as heroes.

Or maybe they were just playing with you, maybe you were nothing more than their favorite toy for the time being. What if they got tired of you? What if they really were planning on kicking you to the curb? Without a bond mark, nobody would even blink if they cast you aside. It would just be a normal break up, nothing for anybody else to even care about or get involved in.

But your heart was already aching at the thought of it.

You huddled up in your nest, ugly sobs wracking your body as you clutched one of Katsuki’s hoodies to your chest. An undershirt of Eijirou’s was nearby, a few plushies that they had given you tucked in amongst the blankets and pillows. The scents of burnt sugar and cinnamon wafted around you, and as comforting as they usually were, they weren’t helping you now. Nothing was.

You heard your phone vibrate, but you didn’t reach for it. You didn’t care. You were too wrapped up in your own thoughts, absolutely trapped in your head now. You were plagued by those same words as they kept repeating, telling you over and over that you were worthless, useless, nothing.

When you finally managed to glance at your phone, you had missed texts from both your alphas. You replied to them with a couple of half hearted “yeah, I’m fine” -s, then finally slithered out of bed to make sure your door was locked. You didn’t want to face them when they came to bother you.

If they came.

You spent the entire day like that. When you were out of tears to cry, you just grew numb. It was the worst you had ever felt, and while some part of you knew, deep down, that you needed your alphas to come help you, you couldn’t stand the idea of them seeing you like this. How had you managed to grow so afraid? You usually told them everything, but now...now you abhorred the thought.

“Oi!” Katsuki’s rough voice came from the other side of your door, his scent wafting in. “Open up!”

You didn’t answer, curling in on yourself even further instead. 

“Omega!” he called angrily. “Stop ignoring me, dammit!”

“Go away!” you managed to squeeze out, your voice sounding weak and strangled. 

He was silent for a moment, his scent changing. It grew more burnt-smelling as his anger mounted, and as it reached your nose, you felt panic and annoyance spiking in your chest. 

“Omega,” he growled, voice low. You heard the doorknob jiggling as he tried to get in, but you had locked the deadbolt, and unless he unleashed his quirk right there in the dorms, there was no way he was entering your room.

“I said go away!” you yelled. 

On the other side of the door, Katsuki was fuming. The beginning sparks of little explosions were popping around his hands, and if Eijirou wasn’t there to hold his arms down at his sides, there was a good chance he would have done some real damage to the hallway. 

“Katsuki, c’mon.” the larger alpha said. “Let’s just leave her alone for a little.”

“Something’s wrong,” Katsuki pulled back as his partner started trying to drag him away. “She stinks.”

“Yeah, she definitely doesn’t smell happy,” Kirishima paused, frowning. “But...we need to give her the space, if she wants it.”

“Fuck that,” his partner spat. 

“Katsuki....” Eijirou sighed. 

Bakugou’s nostrils flared angrily for a moment, red eyes wild as Kirishima grabbed his arm once again. Someone was trying to drag him away from his omega, from his perfect little mate, and if it had been anyone other than Eijirou, he would have done far worse than simply dig his heels into the floor and growl in protest. Kirishima was right, though; if their omega wanted alone time, they couldn’t just barge in without permission. As much as it hurt both boys, as desperate as they were to get to you and make you feel better, they weren’t total animals. They respected you, and prided themselves on being two big, capable alphas who listened to their omega. 

They returned to their own rooms, expecting to at least hear from you within an hour or two. 

Hours turned to days. 

You texted them a few times, listless, half-assed messages that did little to reassure them. You would send a pathetic I’m fine or a It’s okay here and there, only after they had both blown your phone up for a few hours. It was the only reason they hadn’t tried to tear your door off its hinges; they knew you were alive, at least. But by the third day, Katsuki was beside himself, and even Eijirou was getting upset enough to consider using his quirk to get to you. 

You wished that he would. You didn’t want to face them, but at the same time, the fact that they weren’t tearing the building apart to reach you was making you even sadder. Your sad scent was starting to leech out into the rest of the dorms, and by the end of the fifth day, nobody could stop your alphas. 

“Oy!” Bakugou snarled, his fist thudding against your door. “Open up, omega!”

You didn’t answer, too weak and listless to bother. 

“Babe?” Kirishima asked, his voice strained with the effort of not yelling in panic. 

“We know you’re in there,” Katsuki growled. “Quit avoiding us!”

Still, you didn’t answer. 

Then, you could hear some shuffling, and the door was being torn off its hinges by Kirishima. Bakugou stormed in as soon as the path was clear, his red eyes blazing with anger, his hands balled into fists.

“You’d better show your face right fuckin’ now, or I swear I—“

He fell silent at the sight of you. His eyes widened, his nostrils flaring. Your scent was so strong and so incredibly miserable that a wave of nausea passed through him. He hadn’t expected that it would be so pungent in your room, and as he covered his mouth and nose with his hand, he rushed towards you.

“Baby,” he cooed, vaguely aware of Kirishima behind him, “what the fuck is going on?”

You tried to bury yourself in your nest, trying to burrow away from the world, but a big hand caught you around the middle and pulled you back out. Eijirou manhandled you easily, his eyes wide with concern as he sat on the floor and placed you in his lap.

“You haven’t been eating,” he observed, looking at your tired eyes. “Or sleeping.”

Katsuki was beside himself with worry. He was immediately sitting in front of his boyfriend, caging you in between them as he began looking you over. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

You didn’t want to tell them. Your throat was sore from crying, and you felt stupid for being so upset. So, you did the only logical thing you could think of and buried your face in Kirishima’s broad chest, clinging to his shirt weakly.

“Omega, please,” the big redhead pleaded, leaning his head down to scent you. “Tell us.”

You shook your head.

“We know Somethin’ is wrong, so spit it out!” Katsuki barked.

His voice was harsh, but you felt a warm, gentle hand on your back that could only be his. The familiar touch made you sigh, and after a shuddery breath, the dam finally broke.

“Th-there was an alpha,” you whimpered, voice muffled by Kirishima.

“What the fuck did they do?” Katsuki growled, his voice deep and savage. It sent a chill down your spine and you whined, clinging to Eijirou for dear life.

“Cut it out,” Kirishima snapped, snorting at his boyfriend angrily. “You’re making it worse.”

“I just wanna know what happened!” He grumbled, his hand pressing into your back.

You hiccuped as a little sob wracked your body. “A-an alpha I rejected, h-he told me…he told me that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

The low rumble in Kirishima’s chest was like nothing you had ever felt before. It was threatening and powerful, putting Bakugou’s growl a moment ago to shame. His arms tightened around you, the scent gland on his neck slipping over your hair as he tried to cover up your unhappy omega stink.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Kirishima snarled, uncharacteristically angry.

“Hey.” Bakugou slipped a hand around your waist, prying you away from the other alpha slightly. “Look at me.”

You faced him with teary eyes, and when you tried to shy away, he took your chin in his fingers. 

“We fuckin’ love you. Okay? I don’t say it much. Maybe I should say it more. But it’s true, ‘n no stupid, two-bit, shitty-ass alpha knows anything about the three of us.”

He leaned forward, pushing you back up against Kirishima with his head resting on your shoulder. You finally sighed, surrounded by the scents of your alphas, allowing yourself to relax as the dam broke and your crying started all over again. This time, though, it was freeing, and as your alphas rocked back and forth with you, you felt the dread and the anxiety slowly leaving your stomach. 

“Better?” Eijirou asked after a while. 

“A little.” you said, voice muffled by his tear-stained shirt. 

“Good.” Katsuki said gruffly, pulling you up to stand. “Let’s go get some food in you. Point that shitbag out if you see him...I wanna have a few words.”

[wkemeup]

Delicate Edges (7)

series summary: Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, it is only in moments when Bucky walks into your flower shop that you forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe. (Biker!AU) pairing: Bucky x reader chapter word count: 8k chapter warnings: hydra sighting, hint: the woman in the header is not Y/n 😬, bucky is protective af

series masterlist / series playlist

“So, what are the chances Bucky sics the 107 on me for turning you against him?”

You could practically see the grimace on Wanda’s face through the phone; the lines forming around her nose, brows pressed down, lips pinched into a tight frown. She was pacing inside her apartment, the squeak of old wooden floors crying under every step. She’d been racked with guilt since you told her the truth behind the rumors.

“None, Wanda,” you reassured for the third time that evening. You slipped the key into the lock at the front of your shop, tugging on the door to make sure it was secure. “I told you... the 107 isn’t Hydra. They’re not like that.”

The keychain Bucky had given you tapped against the glass and you brushed your fingers against the plastic affectionately; edges that were both sharp enough to puncture but not enough to cut you. Offense and shield in the same breath. Quiet in its defense.

Wanda sighed. “It’s just tough to get used to. The whole town is convinced the 107 is just as bad as the Hydra club, if not worse. The things they whisper about what Bucky and his friends have done...”

“The power of folklore in a small town,” you agreed solemnly, weaving your way through the locals on the sidewalk as you followed the setting sun over the horizon.

“But you’re all right?” Wanda asked tentatively.

You smiled, though it carried such weight it struggled to touch your eyes. But it did. It lifted despite the heaviness there. “Yes, Wanda. I promise.”

Between the static of the speaker, you could hear Pietro’s faint voice rambling in Sokovian. The two of them were bustling around the small kitchen inside their shared apartment, bickering with one another through hushed tones you weren’t meant to hear. It only made you laugh.

“Sorry,” Wanda groaned, “my brother is useless in the kitchen today. We’ll talk later, okay? Before Tuesday.”

You knew the inflection in her tone, the strain as she sobered her voice. There was only four days left before the Hydra club was due for their next visit. The two of you had a routine, a set plan that helped you get through the night and sleep despite the lingering echo of engines following you through the shadows. You’d been doing it for years now, ever since your parents passed. It was what kept you going when the darkness felt like it was closing in around you.

“Of course,” you replied quietly, quickening your pace as the crowd began to thin.

After you hung up, you gave yourself thirty seconds to give into the panic. Thirty seconds to feel it rush into your skin, tingling and restless like ants crawling under the surface. To give into the pounding of your heartbeat and the short rasps of breath. To lose yourself in the fear of Rumlow emerging from the dark edges of your shop and Rollins’ hands inching too close to your hips. It was only four days away and you’d almost forgotten. How was that possible? Rumlow had been inside your shop less than twelve hours ago, reminding you just how dangerous he really was.

Thirty seconds.

But then you spotted a figure along the horizon, standing alone at the center of the sidewalk just behind the red X marked on the concrete. Your anxiety slipped away like water through your fingers as Bucky came into a view, a single hand raised in the air as he waved at you. Any trace of Rumlow was washed from your mind because Bucky Barnes was waiting for you on the border – that sweet smile upon his face, nervous sway of his weight on his heels. The Hydra club did not exist when Bucky was with you.

When you were close enough, Bucky extended his hand for you. There was no hesitation as you took it with ease, surprised at how familiar it felt as his fingers intertwined to yours. He squeezed against your grip lightly, nudging your side as you fell in line with him. God—you'd missed him.

“You sleep all right?” he asked, guiding you down the empty sidewalk on the path of the Centenarian.

“Better than I had all week.” You had spent too many nights in the last week laid awake and staring at the ceiling, listening to his voicemails over and over again – trying to find the game twisted into his words, the monster hiding under the grieving ache in his tone.

You knew now that there was never any monster to find. Bucky was not the man you’d heard campfire stories about or hushed warnings through the gossip of your town. He was not ‘the Rumlow of the east’ as Wanda had once called him. He was a good man. A wonderful man, really. You slept soundly after you had managed to convince him to return home last night, the trace of his lips burning warm against your temples.

Bucky hummed, a slow smile spreading upon his mouth. He leaned over and kissed the crown of your head without missing a step.

To your right, you spotted a few kids in schoolyard uniforms playing soccer in the open field with a half-deflated ball and makeshift goal posts. They froze as they spotted Bucky approaching, laughter dying sharply in the air. You recognized the look in their eyes, the stillness they carried. Fear clung like sweat on their skin – children, terrified of the loving man whose hand was wrapped tightly in your own.

You glanced up at Bucky and he appeared to be intentionally keeping his gaze forward as if he didn’t notice the children at all, but you could see the strain in his jaw. The muscle seemed to ache in his effort to not let their fear affect him, to not allow the burden of disgust and terror sink into his chest. It must have pained him to allow these children to carry such fear.

“Why don’t you let the town know the real you?” you asked quietly after the children were out of earshot. You heard the faint tap of the ball as they resumed their game.

Bucky swallowed, offering you a strained smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “It would show our hand to Hydra. They keep out of the east because they believe we’ll retaliate if they press the border. In some twisted way, they respect our hold on this side of town. If the people knew we were nothing more than a biker club, Hydra would walk right over us. I have to keep up the mask.”

“But you get into fights, don’t you? I remember the fight in the diner by the border before the line was drawn. The whole place was destroyed.” You’d seen the articles in the papers the following morning – vandalism wrecked through the family-owned diner. Bullet holes were found in the upholstery.

Bucky nodded. “It’s unavoidable sometimes. Most of us are former military so we know how to handle ourselves if we need to. But we’re not going out looking for a fight.”

“What happens if someone from the Hydra club were to show up over here?” you asked slowly, hoping Bucky might not catch the waver of fear in your voice. You had hoped the east side would be a safe haven, somewhere Rumlow and Hydra could not touch you, somewhere you could pretend if only for a moment that the shackles on your ankles did not chafe into your skin. But Bucky crossed the border almost daily for the past month. What was stopping Rumlow from doing the same?

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Bucky replied, a heavy sigh in his voice. “They haven’t tried yet. Doesn’t mean they won’t. But I imagine it would get ugly. We couldn’t let it slide, not without risking the border completely. I’d have to get my hands dirty.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “Does that scare you?”

You studied the lines along Bucky’s brow, the worry etched into his face. Perhaps, it was the way he spoke of the clubs and the inevitable violence attached to it with such reluctance that answered the question for you. Bucky at his core was not a violent man. He was not cruel and vindictive. When his hands were bloodied, it was only ever in defense.

Wasn’t that what he’d said to you last night?

It was self-defense. It’s only ever been self-defense.

“Not in the way you think,” you said honestly. “I’m not afraid of you. But I worry, knowing the responsibility on your shoulders. I know there will be days my fear of what could happen to you will ruin me.”

Bucky nodded, taking in your answer. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss against your knuckles. Warm and sweet, gentle in his touch. “Then I’ll do my best to keep out of trouble.”

“I’m not sure that’s a promise you can keep.” You smiled as you said it, almost teasing, but there was a heaviness in your tone that Bucky caught onto instantly. He frowned, though he didn’t argue the point. You both knew what Rumlow and the Hydra club were capable of. Trouble was inevitable.

“This is it,” Bucky said after a few blocks. Your hand was aching from how tight you’d been gripping his; a dull, comforting pain.

The Centenarian stood at the end of the road; a series of bikes parked out along the street – one lined up after the other. Even from the sidewalk, you could hear the faint melody of a Fleetwood Mac song through the windows and someone shouting over the chorus to turn it down. Bucky chuckled to himself, guiding you up the path to the entrance.

You took in a breath, trying to ground yourself to the steadiness in Bucky’s hand. He wanted you to meet the club – to dismiss any doubts you still carried, the lingering aftermath of rumors that had wielded a tight grip into your mind. They’d blinded you to the man you knew Bucky to be – muddled every good part of him because you could not reconcile the legend to the man.

It would take time to reverse the gut-wrenching association you held to the 107 club, the instinct to panic when their name was reared. Bucky had promised that giving faces and names to the anonymous members of the club you’d only heard rumors about would help fracture the uncertainty you felt. Even watching the ease that slipped through Bucky’s shoulders as he set a hand on the knob and opened the door was enough to break the image of the big, bad biker club. He was coming home. And if Bucky’s defenses were down, so were yours.

There was little time to react before a blur raced across the room and skidded to an abrupt stop in front of you; cheesy grin wide upon his face, brunette hair mopped on the top of his head. He looked barely drinking age as he sharply pulled something from the pocket of his apron and offered it to you.

“You must be Y/n! I’m Peter. French fry?”

You stared at him; lips slightly agape. Slowly you turned to Bucky. “Is he serious?”

Bucky nodded rather reluctantly. Peter gestured to the pocket where he seemed to have lined the fabric in a silicone material, almost as if his apron had been transformed into wearable Tupperware. He grinned, rather proud of himself for the innovation. Bucky rolled his eyes despite the laugh under his breath.

“Well in that case.” You took the fry and popped it into your mouth, surprised it was still warm from the fryer. “Thanks, Peter.”

He beamed as his cheeks flushed pink. Just as quickly as he came, he rushed back to the table he’d been bussing before you arrived. Bucky led you over to the bar, towards the man standing behind it with a towel draped over his collar; long sleeve t-shirt clinging tight to the muscles of his broad shoulders.

“This is Sam,” Bucky said with a bit of a scowl upon his features.

“The pain in the ass who saved Bucky’s life,” you said as you extended a hand to him, recognizing the name from Bucky’s story of his last encounter with Hydra and the reason for the scar along his ribs. Sam raised an eyebrow, a satisfied smirk pressing high against his cheeks as he shook your hand.

“I like her,” Sam said to Bucky. He winked at you and swiftly placed an empty glass on the bar and filled it with whatever was on tap. He slid it in front of you and gave you a short nod to take it. You smiled, raising it to him in thanks before you took a sip.

“You got one for me, too, or...?” Bucky huffed, sinking into the barstool beside you. Sam rolled his eyes and filled Bucky’s all the way to the rim. It splashed over onto Bucky’s fingers as he grabbed the glass and he shot Sam a warning glare. Sam winked at you instead and you pressed a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter.

“Stark and Barton are over there by the jukebox,” Bucky explained, pointing to the men bickering over the controls. “Barton was banned a few months back for playing My Heart Will Go On one too many times. Turned the whole bar into a damn karaoke joint. Guaranteed Stark’s trying to prevent him from DJing.”

“Bets are on Barton for Cher,” Sam said casually as he cleaned the inside of a glass, throwing a confident look over his shoulder.

“I’ll take Stark for AC/DC,” Bucky replied, handing Sam a five-dollar bill. The two of them seemed to always be caught in a battle of wills, even in the simplest of conversations. It reminded you of Wanda and Pietro. Sibling rivalry. The knowledge that it had been Sam to rush across the border in search of Bucky that night made their fighting all the more endearing.

Then, If I Could Turn Back Time started playing through the speakers and Stark threw his hands up in defeat, stalking away begrudgingly. Sam pumped a closed fist into the air while Bucky dropped his head to the bar. You grinned, rubbing slow circles between Bucky’s shoulder blades, soothing him as if he’d suffered a real loss.

“You’ll find they’re all rather dramatic around here,” a low, sultry voice said behind you. You turned to find a red headed woman leaning against the wall by the dartboard, a vase of nearly wilted roses beside her. Braids were woven through her hair, pulling the strands away from her face – the fiery red in startling contrast to the black she was dressed in from head to toe. She stepped forward, a soft smile breaking through the hardened exterior. “I’m Natasha.”

You told her your name and she only seemed to smile wider.

“Oh, I know. This one hasn’t shut up about you all month.” Natasha smirked.

Bucky eyes were wide, a flush of pink in his cheeks when you looked at him for confirmation. He avoided your gaze, his jaw clenching as he stared down Natasha, though she appeared completely unfazed. You grinned at him, touching your fingertips to the heat on his skin. He melted under the touch, the hardened look on his face slipping away as he turned his head just slightly and pressed his lips to your fingers.

“So, you’re the one brightening up this dump?” a man approached from the kitchen. Bucky leaned to your ear and whispered his name. Steve. The giant, former shrimp; Bucky’s best friend. He tapped his finger to the dried carnation hung upside-down on the wall behind him. Bucky swallowed nervously to your left, shifting in his seat. “This is from the first hoard of flowers he dragged in here. Preserved the thing himself.”

You looked to Bucky, any trace of teasing falling from your features. He smiling shyly at you before he shot a glare at Steve. His friends had a terrible habit of embarrassing him, but you were grateful for it – the ease in which they greeted you, the comfort they brought that somehow felt familiar. This group of people – they weren’t just a club. They weren’t a business or a shady gang the way Hydra was. They were a family.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/n,” Steve said and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. You longed to know the things Bucky had said about you to allow for such kindness in their eyes. Maybe you could entice Bucky into telling you later.

***

Bucky hadn’t known relief like this in years. To be surrounded by his friends in the shitty old bar he loved, sitting next to the woman who made his heart skip several beats too many any time you looked at him. Your head leaned against his shoulder, grinning as you watched Natasha trying to teach Peter how to dance. They’d moved the tables out of the way to make room.

Your drink was nearly gone; his own was finished a half hour earlier. Bucky tapped his fingers against the bar, the weight of the last week still weighing upon him. There was one thing he still hadn’t amended – one regret he wished he could change.

“Hey, so, um,” Bucky started, the nerves evident in his voice. You lifted your head, turning to face him. You must have sensed his anxiety because your hand settled against his thigh, thumb brushing over the rips in his jeans. He shivered under the touch, trying to let it comfort him rather than rush straight to his head, among other things.

“In case it wasn’t abundantly clear,” he continued, “the reason I left the festival last week is because—”

“You saw someone from the Hydra club, didn’t you?” The realization seemed to drown into your features. He nodded slowly and it only worsened – eyes widening, panic into your veins. Your grip on his thigh tightened. “God, Bucky. If they caught you, you could have—”

“I know,” Bucky replied calmly. He knew the risks.

You shook your head, unwilling to accept his answer. “Why would you—Why would you risk that?”

Bucky smiled sadly at you, an ache somewhere lost between the realization he would do just about anything for you and the blatant disregard for his own safety in the process. You stared at him, worry slipping into devastation upon your features. Perhaps this was the fear you’d warned him of earlier. The fear you held for him.

“Don’t be reckless like that for me,” you said slowly; your voice low, determined. “I don’t want any part in it. At least now that I know about all this, we can be cautious, okay? No more needless crossing into the west. Let me come to you.”

Bucky pouted, shifting himself away from the heaviness of the conversation. “I’d like to argue your definition of ‘needless’...”

You swatted his arm. “I’m serious, Bucky! If Hydra were to catch you because you were walking to my shop... If something happened to you because you were coming to see me... I’d... I’d...”

Something in Bucky broke when your voice began to waver. You clamped down on your teeth, looking away from him as your eyes glossed over.

“Hey, come on now, honey. No tears,” Bucky begged as he tugged you into his arms. You came willingly, falling against him as if you might sink into him entirely. His arms surrounded you, the heat of your body pulled flush against his. “We’ll be careful, alright? I promise. Nothing’s gonna happen to me.”

You nodded against his chest; your fingers gripped tight into his jacket. No part of him was glad to see your fear for him rushing to the surface, but it was a comfort to know you still cared for him – even after the hell that the last week had been where you’d believed him to be a monster no worse than the Hydra scum on the west. You still cared. Cared enough to cry for him, to hold him this tightly in the middle of a dingy bar, unbothered by the wandering eyes of his friends.

Bucky caught a glance of the clock and sighed. He’d promised last night to take you on a real date, to show you more pieces of himself that weren’t obstructed by the walls he’d built to protect his town from the men who would burn it to the ground.

“We should head out if we want to make it in time,” Bucky said. “But we don’t have to go if—”

“No, let’s go,” you replied, pressing out a smile as you reluctantly pulled away from his embrace. You set your hand against his cheek, touching him with the kind of tenderness that could break his heart. No one had dared treat him like he was something worth preserving before, like his body was meant to be soothed and eased instead of bloodied and bruised.

You let your hand fall to the side as you stood. Peter bounced over to offer you another fry before you left and Bucky was grateful for the genuine smile that returned to your face as you accepted it. The rest of the club rushed over to say goodbye before you left; Natasha lingering a little longer than the rest as she offered a rare embrace. Bucky could sense your surprise, the loss of words for how easily his family accepted you without question. It warmed you, eased you. Bucky ruffled the hair on Peter’s head as he followed you to the door.

Once outside, you spotted the long line of bikes propped up on the side of the road; all with similar qualities but still distinctly different from one another. They all carried the same silver paint marking the 107 club along the engine.

“Which one’s yours?” you asked, gesturing to the bikes. The way Bucky’s heart swelled at the simple question, he wondered whether he might survive the day he finally asked you to ride with him – if your eyes would light up like that again, if you’d love the feeling of the open air the way he did. It carried a freedom in it, a silence and a security. He hoped you might find a comfort in the open road with your arms wrapped tight around his stomach. He shivered at the thought.

“This one. Here.” Bucky slid his hand over the bike at the end of the line; fingertips brushing down the motor, sliding over the leathered seat and the metal structure underneath. He touched it as if it were a living beast.

Bucky watched as you slowly followed his hands, gently tracing along the bike in the same path.

“It means a lot to you.” It wasn’t a question. You knew him well enough now to know the answer.

He nodded. “Steve and I bought our bikes the day we got home from our last tour overseas. First real decision that was entirely our own, you know? No orders. No chain of command. Pretty sure I drove that thing down to the fumes a few too many times, but it was worth it.”

Bucky sighed, fond memories circling like faded images floating around his mind. “It’s seen a lot. Used to be parked out here by itself most nights back when I spent my nights fixing up the Centenarian. Over time, more came. Steve’s was the first. Bastard wouldn’t let me build my bar in peace. Then Sam’s. Natasha. Tony. Barton. Peter’s still trying to get a handle on the throttle.”

You laughed, smiling wide at him as your fingertips danced along the seams of the leather. Bucky swallowed, studying how delicately you touched it. His heart stammered inside his chest.

“We should keep going,” Bucky said reluctantly. “Don’t want to miss the show, huh?”

You reached for his hand before he had the chance to offer it and Bucky swore he’d never be able to let go again.

***

Bucky brought you to the old theater on the edge of town. It was a little run down, like most of the things around these parts, but it had character. Still had the traditional seats from the forties, even if they were stiff as all hell. Still had the old popcorn machine that left a vague burnt aftertaste, but it was home. You lit up as it came into view, excitement drawing over your features enough to allow Bucky to forget the tears you’d shed for him just moments earlier.

“My mom used to bring me here as a kid,” Bucky explained as he raised a pair of tickets from his pockets he’d purchased earlier in the day. The attendant nodded nervously at him, quickly stepping aside to let him through. The kid trembled as he passed, recognizing the head of the 107, and Bucky pretended he didn’t notice.

“It’s cute,” you remarked, drawing Bucky’s mind away from the scared teenager. “I like seeing these parts of you.”

He felt the heat flush to his face – damn skin betraying him to shades of pink again. It made you smile though as you brushed your fingers over his cheeks, easing his embarrassment in place of your tenderness. He turned his head just slightly and pressed his lips against the tips of your fingers. You sighed at that and it made Bucky wish he’d brought you just about anywhere else – longing to hear the sounds you might make if he peppered his lips further along your skin.

“You want something to eat, doll?” Bucky asked despite himself. It was all he could do to keep from whisking you off to the bathroom and locking the door behind you. Not here. Not where he couldn’t worship you properly.

You grinned, nodding quickly and muttering something about extra butter when Bucky’s blood suddenly ran cold. He froze as his gaze locked on the concession stand and the woman watching him from the distance. Arms draped out along the counter, a wicked smirk upon her red stained lips. She waved her fingers at him – slow, deliberate. A unlit cigarette hung from between her lips, the flame of a lighter dancing between her fingerips.

Dot.

“Why don’t you grab us some seats?” Bucky said quietly into your ear, lingering a kiss to your cheek. He kept a smile pressed to his lips despite the sudden rush of panic lighting like ice inside his veins. You looked back at him; brows furrowed.

“Okay,” you replied hesitantly. Even despite his attempt to shield you, you still picked up on his distress. Your hand slid along his arm, trying to soothe the tension from his muscle before you gave him a short nod and turned into the theater. It was only after you disappeared behind the door that Bucky gritted his teeth and crossed the lobby to the concession stand.

He leaned against the empty side of the counter, standing only a foot away from Dot, from the woman who sold him out to Hydra and left him for dead. The two of them stared out into the lobby as if there was no history between them, as if they hadn’t once shared a bed and she hadn’t left him to the dogs. To anyone else, they might look like strangers waiting patiently for their theater snacks. Few would be able to see the way Bucky dug his nails into his palms – the pain stinging enough to draw specks of blood to his skin.

“Thought you weren’t supposed to be on this side of town now that you’re running with Hydra,” Bucky grumbled, his voice burning as if it were made of gravel.

“What are you gonna do about it, sugar? Sic Peter Parker on me?” Dot drawled in her sweet tea and honeyed accent; a voice made of charm and grace until she bared her teeth and showed off the barbed wire underneath. Her eyes flickered over to him, waiting for a reaction.

He wasn’t going to do a damned thing against her and the fact that she could still read him like a book made his stomach sick with anger.

“That’s what I thought,” she grinned, shoulders swaying confidently as she leaned into her stance. “Men like you play by a certain set of rules. Even after everything I did to you, you wouldn’t lay a hand against me. Why? Because I’m a woman?" She frowned, playing with the unlit cigarette between her fingers. "Frankly, I find that a bit demeaning.”

Bucky scoffed. “There's plenty I’d like to do to you.”

“Oh, I bet there is.” Dot winked at him, her red lips drawn between her teeth.

Bucky clenched his jaw so tight he was sure it might lock into place permanently, determined to not give her even an inch. He couldn’t allow her to see the effect she had on him – the panic she induced into his body; the pulsing of an old scar burning against his ribs. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

She’d already taken so much from him. His trust. His dignity. Nearly his life. He would not give her anything else. It had cost him too much to rebuild those pieces of himself in the wake of her betrayal. It wasn’t until he met you that he even wanted to try again – to be vulnerable enough with another person, to put fragments of his heart into your hands. You carried more of him than you realized.

“So...” Dot began, a devious grin curling her lips “the florist, huh?”

The color drained from Bucky’s face, stomach sinking through his feet and cracking into the old hardwood floors, barreling down into the depths of the dirt and concrete below. He turned to her, the steel he’d induced to his features washing away in seconds.

“Don’t, Dot. Please.” His voice wavered, his pulse rising. She rolled her eyes.

“Why? You going to beg for her?” Dot asked dismissively, a terrible laugh on her breath.

“Yes.”

A flash of surprised flickered behind her dark eyes. She hadn’t expected him to entertain the question, let alone answer so quickly, so desperately. He would have gotten onto his knees if she’d asked him to. The very thought of you being anywhere near Hydra’s radar was crippling. His nails punctured into his palms.

“What do you want, Dot?” Bucky growled, fighting to keep his anger contained. Whatever money she thought he had was attributed entirely to the rumors. But for as vindictive and cruel as Dot could be, she was just as clever. She knew who Bucky was under the mask, knew that he was not the monster the town made him out to be; couldn’t be – because the man he’d been painted as would not have bothered to cross the border to enemy territory to save a woman who clearly never loved him in the first place.

And still – she never told Rumlow. Even amongst the rumors of protection fees and swindling local businesses out of their own profits, she did not say a word to Rumlow of the man she once knew Bucky to be, a man who would stand is stark contrast to the rumors, one that rang with such dissonance it could not possibly be true.

Perhaps she was hoarding the information for herself – waiting, like a panther in the weeds, to strike when the moment suited her. Her only motive was her own advancement, her own power. She didn’t care for Rumlow any more than she had cared for Bucky. And Bucky had just handed her a weakness that could render him to his knees.

“Dot, please,” Bucky tried again when she did not respond. He turned the full of his body to face her, the hardened mask upon his features slipping as her gaze shifted to the theater where you’d disappeared inside. “What do you want?”

A smirk coated the red of her lips. “Who says I want anything from you?”

Rage coiled into Bucky’s stomach. He was going to break a cardinal rule of his own twisted moral code if she didn’t step out of his line of sight soon. His hands were itching for something to grab onto and she was hanging an anvil over his head, holding the fraying rope between her manicured fingers. It was going to crush him.

“I don’t want her caught up in Hydra shit,” Bucky warned, his voice low, threatening. “Keep her out of this, Dot. I’m serious.”

Dot pursed her lips, turning away from Bucky’s stare to face the crowd again. Something like satisfaction lifted her features, as if he’d walked into the trap she’d laid for him, his ankle suspending him high into the tree line.

“It’s a little late for that, Barnes.”

Bucky blinked; his lungs suddenly short of air. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged as her tongue coated over her lips as if she were centering on her prey. “Your pretty florist has secrets of her own. Let’s just say the 107 isn’t the only club she’s in bed with.”

Bucky stilled, his heart racing. He should have known better than to expect any straight answers from a woman like Dot. She’d traded a year of his life with her, his loyalty and affection, for power to the highest bidder. Perhaps she was just pulling his strings in an effort to put a wall between you. Maybe she was just playing games with him. All she’d ever down was play games with him.

But something about the pleased smirk upon her features told Bucky that this time, to spin a lie was less effective than the simple cruelty of the truth. And Dot aimed where it hurt, and pulled the trigger twice.

“See you around, sugar.” Dot’s fingertips grazed along Bucky’s shoulder. He flinched at the touch and it only seemed to fuel whatever ego boost she’d been after by confronting him.

Slowly, she slid the cigarette between her lips and while holding his gaze, brought the flame to the edge and drew in a steady inhale. Smoke puffed into his face as she released a breath. Then, she winked at him - as if she hadn't just dismantled the last thread of security he'd felt on this side of the border, the last ounce of comfort untouched by the danger of the mask he wore of the feared criminal.

He waited with his hands gripped into white knuckled locks against the counter as she left without another word, heels clicking on the old hardwood floors. Heads turned as she passed by, following the low sway of her lips and the flirtatious wave she sent towards the group of college boys huddled in the corner. The very moment the door closed behind her, Bucky carefully rushed into the theater in search of you.

You were waiting for him in an aisle near the door, lighting up at you caught sight of him. You gestured to the seat beside you, quickly making room for him, but as soon as Bucky stepped under the low glow of the dimmed lights, your face fell.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to go, sweetheart,” he said quietly, offering his hand. His voice was heavy, thick. With remorse, with guilt. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, quickly following him without hesitation. His hand squeezed yours, harder than he meant to, but he was unable to stomach the feeling that you might be pulled out of his grasp at any given moment. If Dot was confident enough to walk across the border, there was no telling what Rumlow or any of his goons might do. Bucky didn’t know whether she was sent on reconnaissance, if she was there to fulfill a purpose or send a message. Hell, he didn’t know if Rumlow even had a clue she’d planned on confronting him at all.

But he knew one thing – that Dot would take any opportunity to drag him through the mud. She’d tell Rumlow about you if it meant gaining leverage for herself. Bucky had been a fool to have shown his hand so easily, to believe that if he begged, Dot might show a glimpse of the humanity he once believed she had. Whatever mess you were in with Hydra, Dot would make it worse just to spite him.

“You’re hurting me, Buck,” you whispered, tapping against his hand. He glanced down at the white knuckled grip he held against you and quickly released your hand with a frantic apology. You shook your head, chasing him back, slipping your aching hand back into his. “Hey, I didn’t say to let go.”

You smiled at him, teasing, because you felt his distress and wanted to alleviate it. But Bucky couldn’t release the strain inside his chest until he knew the truth. He couldn’t protect you if he didn’t know what he was up against. And if it was Hydra... he’d burn them all to the ground if he had to.

He waited until you were safe inside the Centenarian before he spoke again. Holding your hand, he guided you through the near empty bar and past the cheering smiles of his family, leading you into the back office. Sam and Steve both narrowed their gaze as he passed, his head low, though they did not chase after him. Bucky closed the office door swiftly behind you, leaning his back against it. AC/DC was playing from the jukebox, the high strum of an electric guitar filtering muffled through the walls.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” There was no hint annoyance in your voice. Only concern.

Bucky swallowed as he released your hand. He rubbed his aching palm against his thigh. “The woman I told you about—the one that set me up the night I was stabbed...”

You nodded slowly, arms folding protectively across your chest. A chill swept in from the vent above your head, though the goosebumps littering your skin had been there long before the breeze ghosted over you.

“She was at the theater,” Bucky explained, his voice thick with tension.

Your arms dropped. “What? Are you okay?”

Bucky nodded, stepping away from your attempt to embrace him, to comfort him. He needed his strength about him if he was going to have this conversation. He’d fall to putty in your arms otherwise.

“She recognized you,” Bucky said slowly, watching your face for a reaction. “Made it sound like you were wrapped up in Hydra business.”

You stilled, frozen, as if caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic, paralyzed under the high beams. Then slowly, almost painfully, you sank into the chair in front of the desk as if your legs had simply given out, arms wrapped tightly around your chest, and Bucky knew Dot hadn’t been playing games with him. The weight of it was too heavy on your shoulders. You looked like you might collapse under the strain of it when your hands began to shake.

He’d recognized that before – the trembling in your body just before the tears came. His stomach lurched as he knelt in front of you, his hand settling against your knee.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, soothing his hand along your thigh. “Whatever it is, I promise I’ll take care of you. I’ll keep you safe. But I need you to tell me the truth, honey. Please. Let me help you.”

You were quiet for a long while; the crackling hum of the air conditioner and your muffled, shallow breaths the only sounds filtering the room. Bucky did his best to wait patiently for you to speak, his hand coaxing gentle circles on your thigh, but his heart was pounding so violently he was certain you could hear the damn thing through his chest.

“I was going to tell you. I swear I was,” you finally confessed, your voice barely a broken whimper, the heat of shame weighing on every word, and Bucky was certain in that moment he was going to wipe Brock Rumlow from the face of existence. He was going to cut that monster into pieces and live up to the stories of the feared leader of the 107.

When you looked at him again, your eyes were red – swollen and puffy. Tears tracked along your cheeks. It ruined him. Shattered him.

Bucky gingerly reached out and wiped the tears with the edge of his thumb. “It’s all right, honey. You can tell me now. I’m right here.”

You sniffled, nodding, trying to gather the courage to speak. A heavy silence passed - minutes, maybe, before you finally whispered, “I... I owe them money. A lot of money.”

It wasn't often you said the words aloud, but once you started, the rest spilled like the cracks in a floodgate splintering through frayed edges.

You told him about your mother first. Bucky listened quietly as you detailed the pile of medical bills on the kitchen table your father could not crawl out from under. Your mother had fought the cancer the best she could but sometimes the world was cruel and unjust. In a moment of weakness, your father had sold his soul to Hydra in exchange for the loan to pay off the medical bills and get your mother the experimental treatment she needed. It hadn’t worked.

Your father died a few months after your mother. His grief had taken him in the end and he’d left the store – and the mountain of debt – to you. To his daughter with the flowers in her hair and pretty, pastel dresses. The daughter who had loved her parents so fiercely she would not abandon the shop they built from the ground up, who would take on this impossible burden on her own. Such loving kindness warped and twisted by the darkness Hydra carried. His sweet girl facing demons all on her own.

Bucky sank onto his heels. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard of the Hydra club taking deals with desperate people and charging interest beyond what anyone could hope to pay. It wasn’t about the money. It was never about the money with those assholes. Hydra fed on power, on control. They got off on it.

“When do they come next?” Bucky asked his voice burning in his chest. Sandpaper in his throat. But you held your breath, looking away from him. You did not answer and Bucky could feel you closing yourself off, retreating back to the only security you’d known. Bucky slid his hands over your thighs, hoping to draw the tension straight from your bones. “Honey, please. Don’t shut me out. Not now. Don’t carry this alone.”

“This isn’t your responsibility, Bucky,” you whispered, a tear sliding down over your jaw. “You couldn’t have known when we met and—and you don’t have to take this on, okay? I’m not asking you to do that. I would never ask that of you. You have the east to protect and—”

“I don’t care about that. I only care about you.” Bucky hands fell against your sides, drawing the chair closer to him. His knees were sore from the tiny bristles in the rug, but it didn’t matter – not when you looked at him like that, like you didn’t quite believe him. He’d show his weakness for you a hundred times over if it would make you understand that he’d trade half the town to keep you safe. He’d get on his knees for you, beg for you.

A sad smile pressed on your lips, one that did not touch your eyes. “I’ll be fine, Bucky. I always am.”

You were used to that, weren’t you? You’d been alone for too long. Left behind to deal with a burden no one should ever have to bear. First your mother, then your father. You’d learned how to take on the worst this town could offer on your own. Standing strong in the face of monsters lurking in the shadows of your shop. His brave girl. His beautiful, brave girl.

“We’ll figure this out, all right?” Bucky promised. His hand slid up against your hair, holding you steady as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re not alone in this, honey. Not anymore. Not as long as you have me. And... you have me. Okay?”

You nodded, sinking into his arms as he held them open for you. Curled up on the floor of his office, his arms wrapped tight around you. Bucky kept his lips grazed against your skin, focusing on the gentle rise and fall of your breaths until the shame and the panic left your system. He didn’t know how long he spent with you in his arms, but his legs had gone numb. Tingling like static buzzed in his muscle but he’d happily sit in the sensation for hours if you’d let him hold you like this.

“I should get home,” you murmured quietly against his chest and Bucky tightened his grip on you reflexively. You must have sensed his hesitation because you added, “I can’t make my payment if I don’t open the shop in the morning, Bucky.”

“You could stay here, if you want. With me,” Bucky offered instead, a warm flush in his cheeks. “I’ll-- I’ll take the couch. My apartment’s not much but I could keep you safe. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with Rumlow looming over your shoulder.”

You smiled sweetly at him, but it carried a heaviness within its lines. Light traces of genuine appreciation and warmth nestled into your eyes, a lingering stubbornness and pride that had once kept you from crumbling. Your hand grazed the side of his face, brushing gently over the stubble on his jaw as if to soothe him of your own fears, and he knew then what you were about to say. He readied himself, holding his breath, preparing for the anxiety he’d carry until sunrise.

“I’ve done this for years, Bucky. I’ll be all right.” You leaned into him and grazed your lips over the corner of his mouth. “I promise to call if I need you, okay?”

Bucky nodded reluctantly, swallowing his argument behind the lump in his throat. He should have known better than to expect you’d leave behind your shop and the legacy your parents had left for you. It held too much meaning, carried too many memories. You wouldn’t leave it to rot even in the face of danger – of violence and extortion and the dirty fists of vile men. Bucky was torn between his admiration for your bravery and the paralyzing dread that had taken hold of his chest.

“There’s still four days before the payment is due,” you told him, as if that might ease his worry. “There’s still time.”

It wasn’t much. Perhaps that would give him the time to dig through the Centenarian’s records to see if he could help make up the difference. He lived most of his life on fumes – content to fend for himself day by day. Spare change was few and far between and what little he had he’d already spent in your shop. He never once held regrets for the money he spent on your flowers, even less now that he knew the truth of your debt to Hydra.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asked quietly. He brushed the hair away from your face, drawing a tender line from your temple to your jaw. The way you looked at him, it might have crushed him under the weight of such affection – grateful to be rendered to pieces by you.

“Yes,” you replied, a terrible waver of guilt etched into your tone for the week you’d believed him to be a monster despite your better instincts. Bucky turned his head and pressed his lips to the palm of your hand.

“Trust that I’ll see you through this, okay? I know you’re strong enough, honey. I know you can do this on your own,” he sighed, gently pulling your hand from his cheek and bringing your knuckles to his lips where he kissed each one by one, “but you don’t have to.”

From the clench in your jaw, Bucky knew you couldn’t allow yourself to believe him entirely – at least not yet. It was self-preservation. You were afraid to let him in enough to share the weight of this burden, only for him to pull the carpet out from under you at the last second. You were fighting against it, but it had become the thing that kept you from drowning for so many years. It would take time before your trust of him would outweigh your fears.

But he was ready to fight those waters with you. He’d do whatever it took. He’d run Hydra into the ground himself if it meant alleviating the weight upon your shoulders. He’d go down fighting if he had to.

[daddyjackfrost]

hii! from your prompt list can i request 16 with sakusa?

hi!! yes ofc! y’all do be requesting a lot of angst tho. don’t hate me when your heart hurts😛🥰

prompt 16: “we’re not together.”

sakusa x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort (post -timeskip)

Dating a high end volleyball player was hard.

No one told you of the sacrifices you would make and the turbulence of emotions you would feel. Still, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You hadn’t been with Sakusa long. You had known him for a few years but you two were just mutual friends. It was only when you moved to his town did you and Sakusa start getting close.

Your relationship was relatively new.

Sakusa had officially asked you on a date two months ago, and you two became official a week later. Although your status had changed, things with Sakusa were calm and hadn’t really changed.

There was a solid base of trust and respect that held your relationship together, and you knew that you and Sakusa were meant to be.

You were confident in your relationship. And you knew that Sakusa was a relatively private person, so when he asked to keep the relationship on the low until he was comfortable, you immediately agreed. You didn’t need the world to know you were dating him. You knew, and that was enough.

However, it did hurt when you couldn’t go to games with him, or leave with him. Due to his own, and his teams fan base, Sakusa was always surrounded, and he knew that if you were seen with him, the questions and press would be endless.

You understood where he was coming from, and respect his decision. But you told him that you wanted to at least where his jersey, which he reluctantly agreed too.

So, here you were. Sitting in your boyfriend’s jersey in the middle of the bleachers as fans cheered their loudest.

This game had been particularly long. Both teams unwilling to lose. You glanced down at your watch and frowned. You had taken the bus to get here and the last bus left ten minutes ago. You shrugged, I’ll tell Omi to take me.

One hour and a mere three points later, MBSY Black Jackals were celebrating their hard earned win. You smiled brightly, cheering with the crowd.

People rushed down the the floor, trying to get close to the players. You stayed back, letting the fans have their fill of sweat and one-sided adoration.

After the coach yelled for the gym to clear out, and once it did, you waited for Sakusa to take a shower. You smiled at Bokuto and Hinata, who both grinned at you, waving.

You felt eyes on your back but you shook them off. You needed to talk to Sakusa and tell him you needed a ride home, or to his place.

After about twenty minutes, Sakusa exited the locker room. He wore black sweatpants and a MBSY hoodie. His hair was went and his curls were on full display.

You stared at him with a slightly gape smile. Sakusa was the most beautiful man you had ever had the pleasure of seeing, and he was all yours.

You smiled at him when you caught his eye. “Omi, you did so well!”

Sakusa smiled at you, his eyes crinkling. It was a rare sight, but with you smiling at him and praising him, Sakusa couldn’t help it. He walked towards you, but you could see his eyes darting behind you and around you.

He was scared someone would see.

Sakusa and you walked out of the gym, hand in hand. It had been almost an hour since the game ended, and as you both walked and engaged in small talk, the idea of people still being around was not on your mind.

“Hey, Omi,” Sakusa turned his head slightly to look at you, “can I ride with you? The bus isn’t coming at this hour.”

Sakusa nodded, squeezing your hand. “Of course.”

He hated seeing you get on the bus after games when he would much rather have you seated beside him, but he wasn’t ready for the questions or the media that would come with a public relationship. Sakusa hated attention, and he knew that he had dedicated fans. The last thing he wanted was to make himself or you uncomfortable.

When the automatic doors opened, Sakusa immediately dropped your hand.

People hadn’t left. Fans surrounded the doors and your eyes widened. Curious and heated eyes eyed you and Sakusa, and your now unlinked hands.

Sakusa took a step away from you and your heart twisted. With his mask covering most of his face, you couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking.

Questions came blaring at Sakusa about you.

“Are you guys dating?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“You’re dating that?”

“Are you guys together?”

You licked your lips at the looks you received. Some were filled with disgust, others with hatred. You now realized why Sakusa had wanted to keep your relationship private, but there was no point in hiding it now.

They had seen you holding hands, and you were waiting for Sakusa to say something.

And he did.

Just not what you were expecting.

“No, we’re not together.”

Your heart dropped into to your stomach and you slowly turned to face him. With wide eyes and a frown, you stared at Sakusa’s blank eyes.

Yes, you hadn’t been together long, but for him to blatantly disregard your relationship made you feel like he was embarrassed of you.

And maybe he was.

Fans turned their heads to look at you for your reaction. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried your best to smile. You understood where Sakusa was coming from, but he has no right to embarrass you or ignore your relationship.

You were worth more than that.

You pulled your sweater tighter around you. “Yes,” you said. You looked at Sakusa in the eyes and then said, “We’re not together.”

You pushed past the crowd and began walking down the street. You could hear the crowd firing questions at Sakusa but their voices fell flat on your ears. It wasn’t fair to Sakusa pick and choose when he wanted to ‘be’ in a relationship. Instead of flat out saying that you weren’t together, he could have chosen not to answered.

You scoffed, tired of his games. Now you were waking alone at night, all because Sakusa was too afraid to deal with the outcome of a public relationship.

The air was chilling and you were afraid. Walking home in the dark was dangerous, and you knew that. But there was no other way to get home.

Or so you thought.

A silver car pulled up beside you and you almost started crying until you saw a familiar silver-haired man poke his head out. Bokuto stared at you with disbelief. “Y/n? What are you doing walking at this house?”

You blinked a few times before chuckling. Of course Bokuto would be your knight in shining armour.

You shrugged, spreading your arms. “Just walking home after my boyfriend told everyone we’re not together.”

Bokuto frowned. He parked the car and nodded at you. “Come, I’ll give you a lift home.”

You smiled at Bokuto and nodded, walking to the passenger side and slipping in. You sighed in content. His car was warm.

“Bo, you played really well today.” Bokuto grinned at you, drumming his hands on the steering wheel.

“Thanks, y/n! Did you see my receive at the end? Wasn’t it amazing?”

You laughed, telling him it was. Sitting with Bokuto and talking like friends took your mind off Sakusa, who was sitting in his own car, frowning.

When you got home, you thanked and said goodbye to Bokuto, immediately making your way to your bed. Your phone rang and you ignored it, knowing who it was.

You slipped under your covers and shut your eyes, too tired to change or do anything. Your heart still hurt from Sakusa’s words and you told yourself you’d shower and change your bed sheets when you wake up.

Three hours later, your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your doorbell and loud knocking.

You groaned and got out of bed, fixing your shirt. You opened the door as you yawned, and your eyes fell on Sakusa. He stood rigidly outside your door. His eyes wide with concern and his fist raised to knock.

You blinked a few times before shutting the door on his face.

“Y/n!” Sakusa quietly shouted. “Open the door.”

You shook your head, and then realized he couldn’t see you. “No. Go away, Kiyoomi. I’m tired.”

Sakusa sighed, slightly leaning against your door. When he drove down the street you had walked on, only to find you gone, he panicked. He had driven down the road twice and around the block to look for you but he couldn’t find you. Sakusa had never felt so guilty in his life.

When he tried calling you, he got no answer. It wasn’t until Bokuto had texted him that he accidentally had his knee pads and had dropped you off that his heart had settled a little.

The knowledge of you being in a car alone with Bokuto made Sakusa slightly angry. But then he realized you wouldn’t have been with him if he hadn’t been such a coward and a terrible boyfriend.

“Please, y/n,” you heard Sakusa’s strained voice come through the door. “I need to see you.”

You sighed and opened the door, walking to your sofa so Sakusa could let himself in. You sat crossed legged on the sofa, hugging a pillow.

Sakusa silently walked in, gently shutting the door behind him. You stared at him through tired and slightly annoyed eyes.

Sakusa walked up to you, scratching the back of his neck. You gently shut your eyes, tired.

“I tried calling you.”

You scoffed, opening your right eye to stare at Sakusa’s awkward stance.

“Congratulations.”

Sakusa let out a sigh, and then awkwardly shuffled towards the couch, sitting beside you, but not close to you.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have said that we weren’t together.”

You sighed, opening up both your eyes and laying the pillow on your lap. You turned your head to face Sakusa and your eyes slightly widened. Sakusa was slightly hunched, and his lips were pulled into a frown, his eyes a cloud of emotions you couldn’t decipher.

“What would you have said, Kiyoomi?”

Sakusa turned his head, meeting your eyes. “What do you mean?”

You cleared your throat. “You said you shouldn’t have said we weren’t together. What would you have said instead, then?”

Sakusa was silent. He knew that you were tired of him brushing you off when it came to your relationship in public and he felt terrible. But Sakusa wasn’t ready for the media and attention he knew that he would get.

“I... don’t—”

You sat up straighter, cutting Sakusa off.

“Kiyoomi, I know that you’re not comfortable with a public relationship, and I totally understand that, but you completely shut us down tonight. I had to walk home alone, and who knows what would have happened if Bokuto hadn’t come.”

Sakusa’s frowned deepened.

“I just... I don’t know. I guess I want to be treated like your equal and not someone you can just brush off when it’s convenient for you.”

Sakusa’s eyes widened and he sharply turned his head to face you. “You are my equal, y/n.”

You let out a small laugh. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Silence washed over you both, and you stared at your feet. You were in stalemate. You couldn’t tell Sakusa that you wanted him to reveal your relationship. You would never do that. But you didn’t want him to completely shut you down in public either.

Sakusa cleared his throat, and when you lifted your head, your eyes slightly widened. He was much closer than he was before.

With a hesitant pause, Sakusa gently put his thin pale hand on your knee. You watched through careful eyes.

Sakusa rarely ever ignited touch with you.

“I’m genuinely really sorry, y/n. I was only thinking for myself, only considering how I would feel.”

You slightly nodded, confirming his words.

“Come with me to the game tomorrow.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, surprised with his words. When you really looked at him, past the gentleness in his eyes, you saw promise.

There was no sign of nervousness. No indication of uncomfortableness.

“I am coming to the game tomorrow.”

Sakusa shook his head, gently rubbing your clothed knee unconsciously. “No, I mean,” Sakusa licked his lips, suddenly self-conscious. “Come with me tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow. Confused at what he was insinuating.

“As my girlfriend.”

You stared at Sakusa, waiting for him to take back his words.

“Kiyoomi... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Sakusa shook his head, a small gentle smile on his lips. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You stared at him, a look of shock on your face.

Sakusa pulled back, his lips pulling into a slightly wider grin. Your own lips lifted into a smile and you both stared at each other with goofy smiles and gentle eyes filled future promises.

“If you ever embarrass me like that in public though,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “I’ll tell the world you only eat blue teddy bear gummies.”

“Consider me threatened.”

hehe. angst refund @elektrosonix ? even though this is angst BUT there’s comfort at the end!

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @bokuatsubro @literaleftist @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @felixsamour @megumeee @aghashiii @fail-big

[bubbleteaimagines]

Pants on Fire

Reiner Braun Oneshot

Summary: Part two of this

Pairings: Reiner Braun x Reader

Warnings: Angst

when you woke up, you had a killer headache. moaning, you grabbed at your head wishing the pain would just stop. you opened your eyes to see what the hell was happening, but you quickly gasped and scuttled away when you saw who you were sitting next to.

“woah, woah, easy,” reiner’s voice caused panic to swell in your chest. letting out a scream, you swung in his direction and jumped back.

“get away from me!” you yelled out, your fearful eyes locking with reiner’s.

those eyes, those damn eyes that once brought you to your knees now filled you with utter terror. those eyes that you once could never get enough of now belong to a murderer.

“y-y/n,” reiner’s face flashed with hurt as he reached out for you. “y/n, baby it’s just me.”

“no!” you recoiled from his grasp as tears filled your eyes. “no, no, no! you’re a monster! g-get away from me!”

you tried to scramble back but your back ended up hitting a tree. it was then that you noticed exactly where you were, a yelp escaping your lips as you noticed eren and ymir with you, titan’s scratching at the trees below you.

“eren! ymir!” you yelled out for your comrades, seeing as they were on another tree. eren’s arms were cut off and so were ymir’s.

eren offered you a weak nod while ymir said nothing.

“what did you do to them?!” you shouted at reiner.

“don’t worry, they’ll heal,” bertholdt told you. he was standing a good distance away from you, reiner having been the closest.

“y/n—”

“shut the fuck up,” you found yourself staring at him with hatred in your eyes, even though you felt quite the opposite. on the inside, your heart was hurting. scratch that, it was burning and it was burning for reiner. your body had become so accustomed to his touch that you were aching for it, but you couldn’t. because he wasn’t your reiner anymore.

“you don’t get to speak after everything you’ve done,” you snapped, pain in your voice.

“baby please,” a frown tugged at his lips, “please, let me explain.”

“oh boy, here we go again,” ymir rolled her eyes.

“get away from them!” eren shouted out, his glare intense on reiner. but in his state, he couldn’t exactly do anything.

“i said shut up!” you growled again, flinching as reiner leaned closer to hold your face.

you couldn’t help it— you immediately began to melt. his touch was your weakness, after all. it always had been. it sent electric shocks through your body and reiner knew you had felt it.

he was gentle, just like he had always been.

“baby...”

“don’t touch me!” you cried out, smacking his hand away. “don’t you fucking dare!”

“please, y/n, you have to understand!” he pleaded. his eyes were sad, begging you to listen. “everything i did, that was before you. and everything i’m doing now, it’s for you.”

you would have scoffed if you weren’t so heartbroken in the moment. everything inside of you wanted to reach out to reiner. you wanted to be in arms, you wanted for him to hold you and comfort you and explain all of this confusing stuff to you.

you wanted him, even after everything you saw. and that absolutely disgusted you.

“please,” a tear slipped down your cheek as you looked helplessly at eren. “just let me go. let us go, we won’t tell the others where you are. you can let us go, reiner. you can turn yourself in and end...whatever this is!”

“i can’t,” reiner turned away as he gritted his teeth. “i wish i could baby, but i can’t.”

“stop calling me that!” you broke down, pain coursing through your veins at the nickname.

baby.

reiner had called you that during your first date.

baby.

reiner had called you that when he held you in his arms, peppering soft kisses on your face while telling you how much he loved you.

baby.

reiner called you that when he made love to you, whispering how good you felt around him.

your fists clenched. “you lost the right to call me that the minute you revealed your true self to me. you’re a murder, reiner braun! do you hear me?!”

you could tell that your words were hurting him, like a knife digging deeper and deeper. he looked utterly heartbroken as he heard you speak but oddly, it brought you satisfaction.

by the way he had shattered your heart it was only fair he felt the way you were feeling right now.

“you killed my family,” you continued, “terrorized my friends! you sat there and listened to me cry about them when it was you the entire time!”

“i’m sorry,” reiner looked away, tears filling his eyes but you weren’t listening.

“you held me when i had nightmares from that day and whispered how much you understood! you stood by while our friends were killed by the titan’s you let in! you made love to me, reiner, you were my first! you were my everything goddammit and you...it was all a lie!”

finally, your voice broke and you leaned back against the tree, sobs raking your body.

everything inside of you began to shut down, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. how could you after you just learned the man you had loved for three years was a traitor?

“y/n—” reiner tried to reach for you but you were unavailable. “i love you, you have to believe me. nothing i told you was a lie!”

“won’t you just shut up already?!” eren’s voice cut the atmosphere like a knife. “can’t you see that you’ve done enough damage? for three years you’ve strung y/n on and lied to them, why can’t you just stop?”

“because you don’t understand!” reiner suddenly yelled, causing you to flinch back. “i...we don’t have a choice! we have to do this!”

“no you don’t,” you whispered brokenly, letting out another sob. “reiner, please.”

“i’m sorry baby,” he sunk down and held his head in his hands. “i-i wish there was something i could do...if i wasn’t such a coward...”

a stray tear ran down his face and you hated yourself for getting the urge to wipe it away.

“reiner,” bertholdt’s voice caused the blonde to look up with pain behind his eyes. “i know this is sad for you but you’ve got pull it together. someone’s coming!”

at this, all four of you strained your necks to see what he was talking about. peering around reiner’s tall frame, hope flooded your veins as you saw green smoke.

“the scouts,” you whispered, your eyes widening. “the scouts are coming!”

you could have laughed in that moment. even though you knew they weren’t necessarily coming for you, you were still going to be rescued.

“shit,” reiner and bertholdt became frantic bad the sounds hooves echoed closer. “we gotta leave — they’ll be here soon.”

“no!” ymir was the one to protest. “i’m not leaving without christa! we had a deal, braun!”

“w-what?” you stared at ymir with betrayal. she had made a deal with them?

“there’s no time,” reiner snapped, ignoring her request. “we have to go before they get here and take eren and y/n from us!”

“what do you want from me?!” eren yelled angrily, thrashing around.

“what we want is for you to come with us — no resisting. can you do that?” reiner grunted, strapping on his ODM gear.

your eyes widened in fear. “no! no reiner you can’t leave!” you involuntarily blurted out.

this caused reiner to pause, hope filling his eyes.

“i-i mean,” you were quick to cover yourself, “you can’t take me with you! it’s not fair! i won’t — please, don’t make me!”

“i have no choice,” reiner frowned, bending to your level with sad eyes.

“you do,” you spit out, rapidly nodding your head. “you do reiner, please. eren was right — don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“y/n you don’t understand,” he shook his head. “i can’t lose you baby. you’re the one thing that’s kept me sane. i have to...there’s no other way.”

he reached over to grasp you in his arms and it was then that you realized you weren’t even tied down in the first place. you had been completely free the entire time. so why — why did you not try to run? why did you not try harder to escape, when freedom was right there?

“baby, please,” you locked eyes with reiner. “please don’t do this.”

you knew he was on the verge of collapsing as you reciprocated the nickname. your voice was so soft, so small that reiner actually feel to his knees.

“there’s always a choice,” you reminded him, delicately placing your shaking hand on his cheek. “and if you love me, if you truly love me then please, reiner. leave me here.”

reiner eagerly grabbed at your hand, desperate for your touch. his large palm overlapped yours and he savored the feeling of your skin on his.

“i’m sorry,” his voice broke as he shook his head and took out a small dart. “i love you, baby. so much,” he promised.

“that’s why i have to do this,” he whispered, and then your world went black.

-

when you woke up again, you found yourself staring at the familiar patterns on your ceiling.

confused, you sat up, the last memories of reiner lingering on your mind.

“hey,” a gentle voice caused you to jump slightly, but you calmed down once you noticed that it was only armin.

he looked a little worse for wear, his blonde hair messy and his blue eyes swimming with emotions. but hey — at least he was alive. and so were you apparently.

“armin,” you groaned out, your throat raspy from being knocked out. “what happened?”

you remembered reiner’s eyes and his face contorted in pain. that was the last sight you saw before everything went black, and apparently a lot had happened since then.

“we found you in a tree when we went to rescue eren,” armin explained, fiddling with his fingers. “eren said that reiner left you there before he and the others ran away.”

“what—”

you remembered your conversation with him.

“if you truly love me then please, reiner. leave me here.”

you let out a gasp. against your will, more tears began to fill your eyes. pretty soon, you found yourself sobbing again while armin gently held you in his arms.

“hey, hey,” he frowned as he heard you call out reiner’s name, “he’s gone, okay? he left with bertholdt and ymir. you’re safe now — y/n i know he lied to you. and i know it’s painful but he’s gone, you hear me? he can’t hurt you anymore.”

another cry left your lips as you heard that reiner was gone. so that was it then. the love of your life was gone and you were never going to see him again.

“armin,” you managed to choke a sentence through your sobs. “i’m not crying because reiner lied to me.”

armin frowned. tilting his head, you could tell that he was confused. “y-you’re not? t-then why are you crying then?”

you sniffled as all the memories of you and reiner began to play out in your head. every kiss, every delicate touch. every time he made you laugh up until the very last time he made you cry.

you replayed it all, and then you stopped once you got to his last words to you.

“armin, i’m crying because he told me the truth.”

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Mobster!Steve Rogers x reader Part 1

Request: Can you write about mob steve. Reader doesn't know that he is a mafia so she kinda rude to him. Make it fluff and smut 😘😘 . Thank you . Happy birthday 🥳🥳 and i love your writing

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

Warnings: swearing, talk of past abusive relationship, (photo not mine, credit to owner)

>Part 2>

You hated clubs. They were filled with unwanted wondering hands. They were loud, and because they were loud, it meant you had beer fumes being breathed against your ear as some creep tried to get in your pants. Not your idea of a fun night. But the worst part tonight, the straw that broke the camels back, was when your ex showed up. Brock Rumlow was the worst mistake of your life.

"He misses you," A friend had whispered. "Why don't you talk to him? Maybe try give things another go." She smiled excitedly. "I know he wants to, he told me."

It was a set up. Most likely by him, and that was dangerous, it meant you had to get away from him, before he got mad.

So you made an excuse up about needing the ladies and ran for it. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you made it to the other side of the club, but you weren't safe. Brock knew you like the back of his hand, so he followed you.

You could curse yourself for wearing heels, it was harder to run away as he followed after you, shouting your name. You wiped your tears away as you began walking down a dark hallway to get away, only to crash into a wall of solid muscle.

"Fuck!" You dropped to your knees and quickly collected your purse, seriously considering just leaving it's contents on the floor.

"Apology accepted." A deep voice sighed above you.

You huffed and abruptly stood up. "I didn't apologise."

"I know." The same voice growled.

You rolled your eyes as you hooked your bag over your shoulder as you sniffled. "Excuse me." You pushed passed the group of men, only to have your wrist grabbed. You let out a startled gasp, expecting to see Brock but it wasn't. You narrowed your glare at the bearded blond, "What? Gonna scold me for not apologising?"

He shook his head as he frowned at you, "You're crying... And scared."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Steve, we've gotta-" A dark-haired man spoke from behind you, being cut off by the blond.

"Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?" His voice was filled with worry as he let go of your hand.

You shook your head, "N-No, I just, need to leave."

The brunet let out a small chuckle, "Not this way, doll, this is private."

"Didn't you see the sign?" Another man asked. "Pretty hard to miss." He offered you a soft smile.

You shook your head, "I... Sorry, I should-"

"No," 'Steve' stepped in front of you, holding his hands up in front of him when you flinched. "Look, you're clearly distressed and upset, so why don't you come back to my office. You can have a stiff drink, and then tell us what's happened." He smiled softly, nodding his head.

You nodded after a quick look back towards the way you'd just come. Anything was better than Brock, right?

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

"Brock, Rumlow?" Steve glared at the screen in front of him and the footage from the nights security camera's. "Who is he?" Steve looked up.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stared into your empty glass. "My ex... My, abusive, ex." You looked over at Steve. "We broke up... Nearly four months ago, but he can't seem to get it into his head, I don't want anything to do with him. I've had to change my number, change my locks... I've even spotted him a couple of times following me."

"Did you tell the police?" Steve asked, knowing the answer.

You nodded, "They said I was crazy. Without any evidence, there was nothing they could do." You sighed, "I'm sorry, you don't need to be hearing this."

Steve shook his head as he got up from where he sat behind his desk. "It's okay, Y/N."

"Yeah. Stevie's always had a soft spot for damsels in distress." Bucky, the brunet, sent you a teasing wink making you smile.

Steve glared at him, "You and Sam go locate Mr Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, "And do what to him?"

Your brow furrowed at his words as you looked up at Steve.

He shook his head. "Keep an eye on him, and let me know where he is. I'm gonna make sure, Y/N, gets home okay." Steve gave you a reassuring smile.

You opened your mouth to protest but Bucky and Sam had already left Steve's office. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Steve cleared his throat and stood from his chair before moving towards you.

"This, Brock guy... He hit you?" Steve asked as he sat down beside you on the leather sofa.

You looked up to meet his knowing gaze and nodded, "He would usually rough me up a bit during sex he demanded we have." You whispered lowering your head. "Or, grab a hold of me, and squeezed a little too hard..." You shook your head and let out a short chuckle. "He'd never do anything anyone could see."

Steve shook his head as he let out a heavy sigh. "M'sorry, doll," He frowned at you, "You shouldn't have had to deal with the that. Not from someone who's meant to care 'bout you."

"Brock never cared about me." You admitted, more to yourself than Steve.

Steve placed his hand on your knee and gave a soft squeeze. "Sounds like you're better off without that asshole, doll." He offered you a playful smile making you smile. The sound of his cell drew his attention away from you.

You watched as Steve stood up and went back over to his desk. He picked his cell up and read something before slipping it into his pocket.

"'kay, let's go."

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

The next morning whilst you were cleaning your breakfast things away there was a knock on your apartment door. You froze, straining your hearing for any sign that it might be Brock.

You never saw Brock again last night as you Steve walked through his club, his hand in yours. You'd found yourself taking hold of it when you were startled by some guy trying to grab a hold of you. It was silly but for some reason you felt safe. Steve didn't mind, he just pulled you closer to him.

Once the two of you were outside, Steve ushered you into a black car before he followed you in asking for your address. Before you knew it, you were saying goodnight to Steve outside your apartment door.

With a shaky breath you peaked through the peep hole, letting put a relieved sigh and opened the door, smiling politely at the delivery man that held a bunch of flowers. "Hello?"

"Miss Y/N?" The yound man smiled at you. You nodded with a furrowed brow. "These are for you. Have a good day."

You stared down at the flowers that you held with an opened mouth. You couldn't remember the last time you received flowers. Definitely never received any from Brock. With the door shut, you pulled out the small card that was with the flowers.

Let me take you to dinner tonight. Steve

On the back was his number. You shook your head with a smile as you placed the gorgeous flowers on to the coffee table.

You pulled out your cell and dialled the number, as you waited you thought back to last night. You thought back to what Steve had said to you before you wished him goodnight.

"If you were mine, I'd treat you like a Queen." Steve smiled at you as he leaned against the wall.

You rolled your eyes, "How many times have you said that, to a woman?" You asked as you finally unlocked your door.

Steve shook his head. "Never. But I mean it. I'd take care of you." He whispered.

"I was wondering if you'd call." Steve answered. You could hear the smirk in his tone.

"How'd you know it was me?" You asked curiously, sitting down on the sofa.

Steve let out a low chuckle, "Just did, doll. So, dinner tonight. You like Italian? Or do you prefer something else?"

"I haven't said yes, yet." You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless.

Steve let out a low chcukle, "Sweetheart, you wouldn't have called, if you were saying no." He spoke softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I like talian." You whispered. "Thank you for the flowers." You smiled and reached out to gently touch the petals.

"You're welcome, doll. My ma always told me, 'you gift a pretty dame flowers on a date, to start it with a smile'."

You felt your cheeks begin to blush at his words. "Well... I am smiling."

[ramzawrites]

Hey, so I'm having a really rough time rn (dealing with bs from my friend group, we have to take my really old dog to the vet today bc we found blood in her pee and we're scared that she won't make it this time, I'm struggling with my mental health, I'm just kinda goin thru it rn ig) so I would love a comfort fic with the sbi maybe with the reader as their sibling where the reader is the one that always comforts the fam, but hides their emotions until (1/2, very sorry about splitting it)

(2/2) something happens that makes the reader have a full on breakdown? I'll leave the rest to you, it can be a good or bad ending, headcanons or one shots, anything. You can ignore this request if you want/if it makes you uncomfortable. Please don't feel pressured/guilt tripped to write anything from this, your mental health comes first and I'm sure you're already really busy. Reminder to eat something today if you haven't yet and get a drink of water <3

We are family - Reader and SBI!Brothers

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Technoblade, Tommy, (mentioned) Niki, (mentioned) Schlatt

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request <3

Summary: Y/N came back from an errand and surprises their brothers with their weird behavior. Trying to put on their usual smile, trying to hide away their real emotions but their brothers know them better than they inititally suspected. They could immediately tell that something must have happened.

Words count: 2060

Authors Note: I’m so sorry this took so long! I hope you and your dog are doing better! 💙 I wish I could give you more than words of encouragement and that I managed to get faster to this request, I apologize Please make sure to take care of yourself, alright? Take time for yourself to deal with the stress and anxiety! Make sure to stay hydrated and remember to eat! Even if it’s just something small!

Once again I apologize for the long wait, I felt really bad already and then I kinda put it off because I felt bad.

adhd hit hard again and haven’t checked for typos yet, but will get on it as soon as I can o7

On another note if you want to read another comfort fic; I have a small series called “A Painful Reminder” which is more angsty but the 2nd part is more about the comfort, if that is something for you 

Living in the SMP was chaotic, turbulent and at times downright painful.

Most people tended to gravitate to one cause or other people to deal with this. Holding on to something so they don’t get pulled under. Get buried beneath the chaos and the violence.

So having people like Y/N around was like a godsend. They were one of the few people that seemed to be able to withstand the constant waves of misfortune and stand strong. Be the rock to hold onto when everything got too overwhelming.

Wilbur, Technoblade and Tommy loved their sibling for it.

After Wilbur and Tommy got exiled with Y/N out of L’Manberg, they were there and cheered both of their siblings up. Immediately making plans on how to set up a safe home and collecting ideas on how to get back. They were the one who managed to get a message out to Technoblade and asked him to visit them. Maybe help them.

Wilbur often jokingly said that Y/N was the glue that held the family together, to which they would always reply with the warmest of smiles “I’m glad.”

And what he said was true. Whenever the family fell on hard times and they began to drift apart it was Y/N who pulled all of them back. Pulling them back to reality and giving solutions for their problems if needed.

Sitting down with Wilbur when things got to much. Listening to his thoughts and worries, letting his emotion run freely without judgement. While they looked worried for him, their comforting smile never faltered. Offering him solutions to problems if he wanted it, otherwise they gave him the chance to just air his own thoughts out. To be angry with him. Sad with him.

Working with Tommy on his own projects. Listening to his ideas and giving him a different perspective that could improve some things but also respecting it when Tommy wanted to do this his way. And while he liked to brag and pretend that some things didn’t hit him that hard, they were still patiently listening to him as he spoke about his own pain in a more roundabout way. Telling him that he was not alone and making him feel heard.

Talking to Technoblade whenever the voices got too loud or out of hand again. He would just walk over to them and nudge them away, asking them to talk about something, no matter what. He just needed to hear their voice and be able to concentrate on it. Tune out the garbled voices in his head with a familiar sound that calmed him down no matter what. Leaning against them, slowly falling asleep as Y/N told all about how they were happily working on their own farm and what shenanigans they got up to.

Y/N really was like the warm sun on a cold day. Warming them up and protecting them.

Yes, Y/N was strong. So strong that even Technoblade considered them stronger than him. Maybe not physically but mentally and emotionally.

A clanging of metal rung through the cave. Techno was training with Wilbur while Tommy was just watching. Cheering on Techno.

It wasn’t an unusual situation and something Y/N expected to see as they made their way down the staircase. Wilbur in full iron armor and weapon while Techno just fought back with his own iron sword.

“Hey, Y/N! Welcome back!” Wilbur breathed out. Sweat running down the side of his face as he stopped attacking his brother.

The three men looked happily over to their sibling who slowly walked towards them but soon their expressions fell. Something was off about Y/N and it confused the three.

Their smile was as always plastered on their face but it looked strained. Their eyes wide open, trying to look sincere and loving but the glassy look of them gave off a different picture.

“Y/N? You okay?” Tommy asked as he stood up from the ground. Taking a step closer to them which made them in return stop in their tracks.

Y/N was hugging themself, shakily opening up their mouth to answer but nothing came out. It was then when Techno got very aware of how they were shaking in general.

This all seemed so wrong. This shouldn’t be possible. It just didn’t seem to register fully inside their minds.

Wilbur made sure to get rid off his sword and armor as fast as he could, walking over to his sibling, trying to get a better look at them but they just avoided his gaze.

Staring at the ground, slowly shaking their head “It’s- It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You aren’t. You really aren’t. What happened? Did they find you?” Techno asked, his voice full with worry. A bit of anger hidden as well.

Y/N had their own little farm in order to support Pogtopia. The potatoes from Techno were great but variety is important after all. Though they also had an abundance of wheat they usually tried to smuggle into Manberg for Niki. Trying to help her out as much as possible with her taxes and work.

This time Y/N nodded “They did… It’s fine though. I’m fine. I’m not hurt. It’s all good.”

Wilbur’s frown deepened “Usually when people have to be so adamant about being okay something isn’t alright.”

Tommy nodded, supporting his statement only to whisper to himself “Adamant? What does-“

But Wilbur continued “We are your family, talk to us.”

Y/N licked their chapped lips “I’m-“

The tears finally escaped their eyes and begun streaming down their face. Sobbing they fell down on the ground. Wilbur immediately followed suit, laying his arm around them and pulling them against his chest. His hand flew up to their head and begun going through their hair, trying to calm them down. Humming a soft tune from their childhood.

It was the first time in their lives they saw Y/N break down like that and it was quite frankly shocking.

Unsure what to do with himself Tommy squatted down “Um, uh, what- what happened?”

Techno was still gripping the iron sword in his hand. Pacing up and down. Manberg found them? What the hell did they do to make Y/N break down like that? His own sibling! Whatever it was he would make sure to pay it back a thousand times over.

“Tommy can you grab them some water?” Wilbur laid his chin on top of Y/N’s head, rubbing circles now on their back.

He didn’t even hesitate, jumping up to run towards one of the chests with food items that Y/N had always ready for them. Grabbing a water bottle and running back over. Happy that he could do something else besides staring.

Tommy then pushed the bottle towards Y/N who gratefully took it, putting some space between them and Wilbur as they drank some of the cold liquid which helped them to calm down.

“You ready to tell us what happened?” Techno stopped pacing around. His gaze purely trained on his crying sibling. Anger still rising in him just like the voices.

Screaming things like “Technosib! How dare they hurt them! Protect them! I love Y/N so much! Why would anyone hurt Y/N! They always help us! Let’s help them for a change! Technosib! Let’s go out and fight them! Yeah! Blood for the Blood God and Y/N!”

Y/N’s voice was still wavering and a bit scratchy from their sobbing as they begun speaking “Hey, hey! Techno don’t concentrate on the voices. Listen to me. It’s all good.”

This somehow made Techno angry. He threw the sword away and finally knelt down next to them as well so his face was on the same eye level as theirs “Stop. Please. Stop thinking about us for one second. Stop trying to not make us uncomfortable or worried! Tell us what happened! Please.”

He was basically begging at the last part. All his worry packed into it.

“Yeah, honestly you trying to make sure everything is okay for us makes us even more worried.” It surprised the others a bit that this came from Tommy but he was correct.

Tears fell down their face again “I- I was just delivering more wheat to Niki and someone must have followed me. They followed me back to my farm and- and- they burned my fields down. There were explosions. I- it was just my farm. I did not harm. Just, why does it always have to end like this. Why do all the good things always end like this. Why can’t this place let something be. There is always something.”

The farm was so important to Y/N. It was their little project they put so much sweat, love and work into. It was their home away from home. A place to retreat and enjoy some peace. This obviously was devastating. It was their one thing they had for themself. The one thing that wasn’t there for anyone else but them.

It was also clear that this seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back and it broke the three a bit that they only now seemed to notice this. That it took that long and their whole farm being destroyed for the realize this was heartbreaking.

“Who?” Techno urged but Y/N shook their head.

“I don’t know. Everything went so fast and I tried to save as much as I could but- but it’s all gone. It’s all gone.” Their voice jumped up an octave at the end, burying their face against Wilbur’s shoulder again. Silently sobbing.

It should have been impossible but Wilbur’s frown deepened and his expression turned more grim “Don’t worry. We will get back at them. We will get our revenge. They will see firsthand what they did to you, I promise.”

Shocked Y/N looked up, their red and puffy eyes wide open “Wil, that’s not what I- no revenge. There is already too much misery going around I just want this to stop. I just want all of us being able to live in peace.”

Wilbur should have known that Y/N was too good natured for that but he couldn’t help himself. He was just so angry. Angry at Schlatt and Manberg. That they went for him was one thing but to go out of their way to treat Y/N like this? Let’s just say he put it on the list in bold letters with reasonings on why he will get back at the Manberg faction.

“Listen Y/N.” Techno begun, his voice now calm again “Stop it. Just for once think about yourself. Stop thinking about others for once. You are also worthy of the same care you give us. Let us at least help rebuild your farm. You always help us with our projects, let us help you with yours.”

Tommy seemed to lit up at that “That sounds like a good idea! We could build towers around your new farm and make sure no one gets in! We could put down traps and all!”

He really wasn’t sure how to react but that was at least something he could do for them. As the past General’s right hand man, this should be something he can do. If he couldn’t protect his sibling how could he ever hope to get L’Manberg back.

Wilbur seemed to think about it for a bit but agreed “Yeah, how does that sound?” Though the dark glint in his eyes stayed. The cogs in head still running off with his own thoughts.

“You guys would? Since when can you guys build?” a dry laugh escaped them but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Both Tommy and Wilbur looked almost appalled at that claim while Techno just shrugged and nodded. Just looking around Pogtopia was more functioning than good looking after all. Y/N tried to pretty it up a bit but usually something always happened around here.

“Also Y/N, please talk to us more. Don’t bottle everything up. Please. We worry a lot about you and we love you. You always do so much for us, let us do the same.” Wilbur pushed Y/N a bit off of him and looked them deep into their eyes, hoping that this would really hammer in that this was a genuine plea.

As a respone Y/N wiped the tears off their face “I understand. I’ll try to remember that.”

“Don’t try just do it.”

[kay-diggle]

The Promise Ring

Summary: Some promises are broken, some promises remain intact, and new promises are made.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre & Rating: Angst, Smut, Hint of Fluff, 18+

Warnings: oral (m. recieving), somewhat dom!jungkook (he’s actually a big softie) sub!reader, hairpulling, mentions of jealousy, overstimulation, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex (pls pls pls stay safe guys!)

Length: 4.2k

Notes: I apologize that the first fic I post in months is so terrible (it highkey feels like it’s all over the place but that’s okay!) If you somehow enjoy this... please let me know! I’m still kinda in hiatus bc of school btw :( {Requests are closed}

Kay-Diggle’s Ultimate Masterlist

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Before 

“It’s so pretty out here tonight,” you commented on the beautiful scenery in front of you. You were laid across your boyfriend’s lap while he leaned back, both taking in the view. 

 For your four year anniversary, Jungkook took you out to a clearing that overlooks the city. You had a late night picnic, eating your favorite foods while sharing some of your favorite memories from the past four years you’ve been together. 

“Yea… but you’re prettier.” 

“Ugh, corrrnnyyyy,” you whined despite feeling yourself begin to blush. 

“Yea, but you love it,” he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And I think this is the perfect time to give you your anniversary gift babe!” 

“No! I definitely told you I did not want a gift this year.” 

“Well that is definitely too bad because I got you one anyways,” he countered, playful as ever. 

He sat up, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. It was hard to see since it was dark outside, but when you clearly saw the velvet black box, you felt a rush of all different types of emotions exploding within you. Upon seeing your shocked face, he stupidly grinned before opening the box, confirming your suspicions about what was inside. 

“Jungkook….” your jaw dropped as you looked at the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. 

“Y/n,” his hand found yours, “I love you so much baby. These past four years have been…. just, so amazing that it’s kind of hard to put into words, ya know? But the one thing I can tell you for sure is that we were meant to be together. You were literally made for me -- my handcrafted destiny. And I promise you that will never change. I promise that I will never stop loving you, I’ll never hurt you. I promise you that I will never break your heart.” 

Nothing could stop the way tears pooled into your eyes at his heartfelt words. You were speechless, only being able to mouth the words ‘I love you’ while Jungkook began laughing at you while wiping away your tears.  

“I know what you’re thinking but it’s not that, so don’t freak out! It’s a promise ring,” he took your left hand, placing said ring on your finger. 

You couldn’t even focus on his words, you just wanted to hug him. And so you did. As soon as he slipped the ring on your finger, you were wrapping him in your arms and tackling him to the ground, crying while laughing at the same time while he laughed with you. 

“Did you even hear me just now?” he chuckled. 

“Yes, not a proposal, but a promise ring,” you nodded. 

“Okay. Just keep in mind I will ask you to marry me one day,” he smirked. 

"And I, Y/n, promise you, Jungkook, that when that day does come, I'll say yes. If you would've asked me tonight I would have said yes with no hesitation." 

“Well then, I can’t wait for that day, hm?” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

And that night, the two of you made love outside, underneath the stars. 

Now 

When you walked into the room you felt your stomach drop. Seeing your ex-boyfriend’s face months after the worst break up you’ve ever had instead of his best friend who you were planning to meet up with was not what you were expecting when you opened the door. 

“You’re not Namjoon,” a deep frown set on your face. 

“I know. I asked him to get you here. Y/n, please… just hear me out.” 

“No Jungkook,” you shook your head. “I believe you said enough the last time we saw each other, yea?” 

You turned, placing your hand on the doorknob and turning it. Before you could fully open it, you felt a force push it back closed with Jungkook’s strong presence behind you, his hand pressed against the door above your head.

“Y/n. Stay.” 

He whispered it in your ear and although he said it in a commanding voice, his voice was strained almost as if he was begging. You stood completely still for a moment, your heart and mind battling against each other even though you already knew their fight was pointless. In the end, your heart always made you cave. 

You turned to face him, realizing that you were completely trapped between him and the door, you quickly became uncomfortable. Fuck your stupid heart for not being able to resisit the man who broke it. 

“What do you want?” 

“I miss you.” 

You scoffed at that. 

“Well that’s something you could have communicated over the phone rather than creating this whole elaborate plan with Namjoon and getting him to lure me all the way to this hotel.” 

“You realize that you blocked me… on everything, right? I can’t communicate anything to you,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, I realize that. And I did that for a reason. What part of ‘I never want to hear from you or see you again’ did you not understand from when we broke up?” 

“Oh I understood that shit perfectly and I still think it’s fucking bogus.” 

“Yea of fucking course you would. You know that was always your problem. You never see things from my point of view.” 

“Oh and what point of view would that be? Starting arguments over nothing because you’re bored to the point where we had to actually BREAK UP?” 

“Bored Jungkook? Really? I assure you that if I was really bored I would’ve found better ways of occupying my time than arguing with your ass over the same shit.” 

“Oh get real Y/n.” 

“No, you get real!! Your head is so far up your fucking ass that eight months later you still can’t see what you did wrong.” 

“There’s nothing to see! I didn’t do anything!!” 

“Jungkook I fucking told you on multiple occasions that I didn’t appreciate you entertaining that girl when she flirted with you! You know, the one who was only supposed to be a close FRIEND?!?” 

“Jesus Christ y/n, you act as if I FUCKED her. I didn’t even flirt back!” he stepped back from you, crossing his arms under his chest. 

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER! Do you understand how it made me feel?? How she would whisper with her friends, talk shit about OUR relationship and I just had to sit back and listen. OH but the ONE time I get drunk and flirt with Taehyung in a moment of weakness, suddenly I was the villain. Suddenly I destroyed our relationship and was all types of whores and sluts. Honestly Jungkook, you can go to hell.” 

“You flirted with my BEST FRIEND y/n.. Basically offered to suck his dick. I’m sorry, was I not supposed to get angry?” 

“No but I definitely wasn’t expecting you to disrespect me by calling me out of my name Jungkook!”

“I APOLOGIZED! I apologized as soon as I realized what I said. And I’ll apologize again if that’s what it’ll take to-” 

“No you don’t have to do shit. I’m leaving. I can’t believe I even stayed this long. Ugh, this is my problem. I’m always too nice to people who don’t deserve my kindness,” your words came out venomous. 

Jungkook bared his teeth, visibly upset before he walked towards you, forcing your body back into the wall. 

“No your problem was you never wanted to fucking talk. It was ALWAYS arguing with you. EVEN NOW! I invited you here to have a conversation and look at what you started!” 

“No YOU started it!” you poked your finger into his chest. “You knew exactly what would happen if we saw each other again which is exactly why you got me here under false pretenses. This is all your fault,” you screamed. “Everything. Was. Your. Fault.” you poked his chest with each word. 

Jungkook grabbed the finger you kept poking him with and it made you audibly gasp. He stared down at you with a look that came across as angry but having been in this position with him before, you could also notice a slight hint of lust in his eyes. 

He let go of your finger before gently pushing his palm into your chest, making your back hit the door and grabbing your wrists, holding them against the door. 

“Listen. To. Me,” he spoke slowly. “I am not putting up with your attitude tonight so stop.” 

“Make me.” 

It was like clock work, the way the two simple words you uttered set him off. He let go of one of your wrists to wrap his hand around your neck, choking you lightly and bent down to whisper in your breath. 

“Stop fucking playing with me Y/N. You already know what happens when you do that shit.” 

“Hmm… well it has been eight months. Maybe you need to refresh my memory?” you challenged. 

Jungkook grunted out of frustration before tightening his grip on your throat and kissing you. The kiss was rushed and furious, much different than the ones you’ve shared with him in the past. No matter how upset he was with you, his lips were always gentle on your skin, but this was completely different. He forced his tongue into your mouth and bit on your lips so hard you were worried he would draw blood. 

His other hand let go of your wrist, trailing it up your thigh to squeezing your waist and ultimately groping your ass while giving your lips a break to attack the sweet spots on your neck instead. 

“Fuck….” you moaned out when his hand began squeezing your breasts, brushing against your hard nipples. 

“You like when I play with your tits?” 

“Nope,” you spit out. “You’re barely doing anything for me right now.” 

“Hmm well you wanna know what I like? When you can’t talk. How about we shut you up.” 

He shrugged off his jacket, placing it on the floor before pushing you to your knees. Having been in this position before, you reacted automatically, rubbing his length through his pants a little. You unbuckled his belt and undid his pants before pulling them and his boxers down just enough to reveal his semi hard dick. After finally seeing it again after months, it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss it. 

“Suck. Now.” 

At his command, you looked up at him while wrapping your hand around his base, letting spit drip from your mouth onto him to make him wet. You moved your hand up and down his length a bit before finally taking him into your mouth, You let your tongue run on the underside of his dick from base to tip before wrapping your lips around his tip and lightly sucking, just like you knew he liked. You looked up at him, covering your teeth with your lips and taking his length further in your throat. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, guiding you up and down his length while his other was spread against the door as if using it to hold himself up. You felt him twitch in your mouth before there was a knock at the door. 

“Jungkook? Y/n? I just came to make sure you guys didn’t kill each other in here,” Namjoon joked wearily. 

“Yup! All good,” came Jungkook’s hasty response when he felt you take in his length completely, deepthroating him. 

“I see you’re acting out for Namjoon,” he whispered looking down at your teasing face before using your hair to push you further down and hold you there. 

After a few seconds he let you up, coughing up spit while gasping for air loud enough that Namjoon could hear. 

“Jungkook what was that? Where’s y/n?” 

“She’s here. She’s fine. We’re working it out. Bye Namjoon!” Jungkook made you go back to sucking his cock after letting you get a few breaths. 

“Maybe I should come in and mediate….” Namjoon contemplated, completely unaware of what was happening on the other side of the room. 

“Unless you want to see her choking on my dick, maybe now is not the best time Namjoon,” Jungkook was starting to get annoyed. 

“Oh… in that case.. I’ll just get going I guess…. Glad to hear you two are.. Working it out?” Both you and Jungkook could hear Namjoon taking off in the opposite direction of the room. It made you giggle a little bit, vibrating against Jungkook’s cock. Nearly cumming down your throat at the feeling, he slapped his hand against the door before using your hair to pull your mouth off of him. 

His hand wrapped around your arm, pulling your body back into a standing position before capturing your lips in a heated kiss again. 

“Fucking Namjoon….” Jungkook trailed off, his hands now exploring your body again. “And why the fuck were you coming to see Namjoon dressed like this?” He asked, referring to the tiny black dress you were wearing that barely covered your ass. 

You replied with the most petty thing you could think of. “I don’t know. Maybe it was so that I could finally fuck one of your best friends, like I was accused of doing.” 

Jungkook gritted his teeth, yet again visibly annoyed with you. “And how should I fuck you fuck, hm? Should I fuck you against the door? Make you scream my name? Make sure everyone in this hotel knows how much you’ve fucking missed me?” 

His fingers traveled under your dress and pulled your soaked panties to the side, easily slipping a finger into you and then adding another beginning to fuck you

“Ah, shit!” 

“Answer the question.” 

“Fuck! Yes, fuck me wherever you like” 

At that, he quickly ripped your underwear off your body and pulled your dress off, wanting as much access to your bare skin as possible. He pulled the rest of his pants off as you tugged his shirt off and threw it across the room. 

He pushed you completely against the door and raised one of your legs to wrap around his waist. Taking his length in his hand, he slapped it against your clit a few times, smirking at you as you whimpered at the feeling. He rubbed his length against your wet folds until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Jungkook,” you were annoyed. 

“Yes?” He looked at you with a sly smile on his face. 

“Just put it in!” 

“Beg me first.” 

“You’re so goddamn irritating.” 

“Now Y/n, is that any way to talk to someone who can give you what you so desperately need?” His condescending tone of voice only worked to aggravate you further, but you not wanting to waste anymore time, you gave in. 

“Please Jungkook! Please fuck me. I can’t wait anymore, it’s been too long. Please i-  I need you!” 

He pressed your waist further into the door before finally sliding inside of you. 

“I don’t want to hear anything out of your mouth that isn’t you begging or my name,” he whispered in your ear as he began to fuck you, his movements made easier by your wetness. “No talking back.” Hard Thrust. “No smart ass comments.” Hard thrust. “Nothing.”

When he began pounding into you, you lost your footing, almost slipping. With a grunt, Jungkook grabbed both of your thighs, hoisting you up against the door and trapping you under his body. With this new position, he spread your legs further, now being able to go deeper within you. When you felt his tip repeatedly nudge the spongy spot within you, you let out your loudest sound yet, a combination of Jungkook’s name and a moan. He apparently thought it was too loud because he covered your mouth with the palm. 

“Be quiet” he whispered in your ear harshly. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, moving his palm so that you could speak. “‘I’m sorry, it’s just so good, ugh fuck.” 

“Yea, bubby? Did you miss me fucking this tight pussy? Missed me pounding into you just the way you like?” 

The cute pet name he used to call you when you were in a relationship completely flew over your head. The only thing you could focus on was the way his cock felt sliding against your walls, throbbing inside of you. 

“God, please! Please make me cum.” 

“You wanna cum? You missed cumming all over my cock right?” 

“Fuck yes! God,” you cried out when he went harder, your body banging into the door with every thrust. 

Jungkook was too busy holding your body up so he could fuck you properly, so you one of the hands that was gripping his shoulders down to your throbbing clit, rubbing it so that you could bring yourself to your end. Jungkook’s eyes traveled down to where your fingers were working, biting his lip at the sight. 

“Mmhmm, yes bubby. Rub that little pretty clit of yours. Are you gonna make yourself cum, hmm? Be a good girl for once and make yourself cum for me?”

“Yes.. yes, I’m gonna cum so hard Jungkook, just for you! Ahhh, fucckkkk” You were spewing so many words in your moment of bliss that you couldn’t even recall what you were saying.Your legs trembled while your hands wrapped around Jungkook’s wrist as he fucked you through your high. Your entire body felt overwhelmed as you came, especially when Jungkook kissed you while you were still shaking all over his dick, making it even harder for you to breathe. 

Disconnecting your lips so you could both catch a breath, jungkook asked “You came so hard, can you take more?” 

“Yes. Please, I need more.” Jungkook could see in your eyes how fucked out you were. The look you gave him had his cock throbbing so hard that he felt he could cum in that exact moment. 

He carried your limp body to the bed on the other side of the room, placing you down on the edge and instructing you to move up towards the headboard, holding back a laugh as he watched you struggle to crawl with your worn out legs. 

He joined you on the bed, sitting on his knees between your spread legs, touching himself at the sight of your post-orgasm face and glistening wetness. Watching him bite his lip and touch himself while looking you dead in the eye had your worn out pussy whimpering for him again, demanding more, and you couldn’t wait. You wrapped your legs around his waist, prompting him to hover over you, hands right beside your head to hold himself up. 

“Do you want it?” 

You quickly nodded your head. 

“Words, bubby.” 

“Yes Jungkook.” 

And then you both watched as he slid his length back inside of your cavern. Compared to his fast and rough thrust earlier, these were slower and more calculated. He was grinding into you in a way where you could feel his pelvis brush against your clit every time he moved deeper into you. You cried out to him again from the overstimulation. 

“You okay y/n?” he questioned, not stopping his movements. 

“Yea, just sensitive. Please don’t stop,” you begged, 

“I promise I won’t. I don’t ever want to stop….” 

You couldn’t focus on his words while he moved inside you. All you could do is let the moans roll out of your mouth that hung wide open. And all Jungkook could do was watch, thinking about how much he missed this. How much he missed you. 

He lowered his body so that he was basically laying on top of you, one hand gripping your waist while the other gripped the sheet next to your head. He rolled his hips into you at a faster pace and you couldn’t help but fling your arms around him, holding on tight. He dropped his forehead to yours and you finally looked at him, really looked at him without the lust clouding your eyes. You were still able to read him the same way you always could. You finally noticed the drop in his earlier dominant persona and how he became softer with the way he touched you. 

You felt his love radiating through you. He was making love to you. 

“Fuck y/n, I’ve missed you so much.” 

“Jungkook … please, please don’t. Please just fuck me,” you begged. You couldn’t do this. You weren’t ready to face your feelings. 

“I can’t just fuck you. I want more. I want you.” Both of his hands found their way to yours, locking your fingers together while looking each other in the eye. “I only want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I love you, bubby. I’ve never stopped… ugh, I promised I never would.”

His sudden confession made all of the emotions you thought you had locked away for the past eight months come back. You were crying. You were sobbing under the guise of pleasure.. It was all too bittersweet. Jungkook was simultaneously making your body feel good but your heart feel so sad. 

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t have the words. You just clamped your walls around him, pushing you both towards your climaxes. He squeezed your hands when he felt his balls tighten and cock throb, kissing you and groaning against your mouth as he came inside of you. He left open mouthed kisses on your face and down your body. This time, it was his fingers on your clit that brought you to your second end, all while whispering sweet, meaningful words in your ear about how beautiful you were and how much he misses you. It made your orgasm more intense, your feelings overriding your senses as you spasmed around his now soft cock inside of you. 

When he finally pulled out, he kissed you deeply for only a second, hugging your body closer to his and wiping your tears away as you both tried to catch your breath yet again. When the stickiness of your lower body began to feel as heavy as your heart and to Jungkook’s dismay, you got out of the bed and went into the bathroom, taking some time to clean up and silently sob into your hand before splashing water onto your tear stained cheek. You weren’t prepared for what would happen when you walked out the door and faced your ex lover again, but you knew you couldn’t avoid it either. 

Exiting the bathroom you saw Jungkook already dressed and  you scanned the room for your clothing which was mostly by the door. Jungkook silently watched as you dressed yourself and when he saw the look on your face when you turned around, he shot out of the bed and rushed towards you. 

“Marry me.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Jungkook…. What? Are you insane?!?” 

When he brought his hand into your line of sight, you recognized the item you threw at his chest eight months ago as you packed your bags and prepared to leave him. The cursed promise ring. 

“Do you remember when I gave this to you? I promised you that one day I would ask you to marry me. Well today is that day…... Do you remember what you promised me?” 

“Jungkook… “ 

“What did you promise me y/n?” he was desperate.

“I promised- I promised that I would say yes when you asked,” you mumbled, eyesight being blocked by fresh tears. 

“Well I’m asking,” he got down on one knee. “Y/n, will you marry me?” 

“This isn’t fair,” you sobbed. “I said that when we were still together. Things have changed Jungkook.” 

“Oh really? What’s changed y/n? We haven’t been together for a few months, but who cares. The only thing that matters is that our feelings haven’t been affected by our time apart. And they never will be. We’re always going to be in love. I promised you that.” 

Jungkook was crying himself at this point, and it broke you. Your head and heart were once again at war, but that didn’t matter. Nothing else could matter to you when the love of your life was on one knee in front of you, professing his undying love for you and asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Your heart and your mind ultimately knew that he was right. Your feelings for him never changed, and they never would. There was no point trying to fight it. And yea he might have broken a promise or two, but he was making good on them now, and that was all that mattered. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, before mumbling out a small “Yes.” 

When you opened your eyes, your new fiancé looked dumbfounded with the brightest smile you had ever seen on him. He cried out in joy before coming off his knee, lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around before trapping your face in his hands and kissing you as if his life depended on it. You couldn’t help but laugh as you wiped both his and your own tears away. 

“Was this your whole plan? To propose to me tonight?” 

“It was,” he grinned. “Now that I know what my life is like without you in it, I’m never letting you go again. And that’s a promise.” 

[thetravelerwrites]

Alexei (Satyr) Part 1

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Satyr Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Satyr, Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Reader Insert Words: 5834

A commission for @thebimess​! A woman escaping an arranged marriage proposes an unusual agreement with a man she just met: marry her for six months to get out of the marriage contract. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Being on the road was rather terrifying for a woman traveling on her own, but you weren’t wavering in your intent. You had to get to Dunmountain and disappear. You didn’t care if you lived in a hovel shoveling shit for a living, you weren’t marrying that man. Not in a million years.

A few days on the road sleeping rough hadn’t done much to deter you, though it was cold and uncomfortable. You managed to get to Chesterfield long enough to buy road provisions and get rid of your old clothes, but you didn’t want to stay there too long. You didn’t know if they’d have people out looking for you.

You ached for a bath and a bed. You didn’t realize how much you’d taken being clean and comfortable for granted. And it looked like rain tonight. You figured the horses wouldn’t mind a bunk mate.

As you were coming around to go into the stables, it began to rain rather hard. As you ducked in, the stablehand shouted at you.

“Oy! Get out of here! No homeless wenches sleeping in here for free. Go get a room or sleep in a gutter!”

“Oh, but sir--”

“No buts! Out with you!”

You had no choice but to duck back out of the stable and into the pouring rain. You went around the back, praying that there was a cart you could sleep under.

Instead of a cart, there was a lovely lavender vardo parked there. The front and rear doors were locked, but there was a window. It was small, but you thought you could squeeze through. And if you got stuck, at least half of you would be dry.

The shutters had a latch on the inside, but it was easy enough to open with a hair stick. Using the wheel as a boost, you threw your bag inside and jumped up. Getting your shoulders through was the hardest part, and your hips were a bit of a struggle, but finally you fell to the floor of the vardo like a spilled sack of potatoes. Slightly bruised, you re-latched the shutter windows and looked around.

It was fairly neat and tidy, looking a bit larger on the inside that it did on the outside, with things secured safely to the walls and inside trunks. The walls had beautiful filigree scrolling all the way up and the roof had a lovely fresco of a countryside near a body of water, the field full of flowers. There were things that hung along the ceiling, making gentle jingling noises as the vardo moved.

There was a small cot latched up against the wall that would fold down. Wearily, you folded it down, pulled out your cloak, which was still dry in your bag, and laid it over the cot to prevent the wet from your clothes from seeping through, and settled down on it. You’d deal with the owner in the morning. If you weren’t arrested for trespassing, that is.

Once you were horizontal, you fell asleep immediately.

You were awakened rudely when you felt water being poured on your face. You sputtered and shielded your face, sitting up abruptly.

“Ah, the stowaway is awake at last,” You heard a masculine voice say. “Since you seem to have had a nice rest, you can get out now.”

You wiped the water out of your eyes and looked up. Standing there was a satyr with deep brown fur on his legs and tan skin. With his short, black horns jutting up just behind his hairline, you thought he might be only slightly shorter than you. He had hair the same dark color as his fur and bright blue eyes, a closely trimmed beard and mustache, and dimples you could see even with the beard. He wore no trousers, covered by his fur, but had on an off-white tunic and a buttoned-up brick red vest with gold embroidery. His cloven hooves were shiny black and dainty.

“I’m sorry,” You said, coughing and sniff the water out of your nose. “I’m sorry, I just needed a dry place to sleep.”

“And so you did,” He said, putting his water skin aside and folding his arms. “I’ve been on the road for hours now, and I didn’t know you were back here until I stopped for lunch. So, you’ve had your sleep. Get out.”

“Which way have you traveled?”

“I’m halfway to Red Landing,” He said.

“No!” You moaned, your head in your hands. “It took me so long to get to Chesterfield from Red Landing. That’s almost a full day backwards!”

“That’s not my problem,” He huffed. “You’re the one who trespassed in what is ostensibly my home.”

“Can I pay you to take me back to Chesterfield? I’ll give you ten gold. That has to be enough to ferry me for a few hours.”

He sighed sharply. “I mean… I guess? I don’t owe you any favors, you know.”

“No, I know,” You replied, fishing around in your bag. “Here,” You pressed ten coins into his hand. “It’s not much for inconveniencing you, I know, but I don’t have much as it is.”

He bounced the coins in his hand, frowning down at them.

“What’s so important in Chesterfield?” He asked.

“I’m not going to Chesterfield, I’m going to Dunmountain,” You replied. “Do you really care why?”

He snorted. “I guess not. Fine, fine. You’ve already taken up too much of my time, I might as well get paid for it.” He snatched up your bag and began looking through it.

“Hey!” You said, grabbing the bag back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you didn’t steal anything of mine while you were in here,” He retorted. “Let me see or I’ll dump you off right here.”

You scoffed, but held open your bag so that he could see inside, refusing to let it go. He shuffled things around and you waited anxiously until he was satisfied and straightened up.

“You’re not riding in here,” He said. “Get up in the driver’s box. I want to be able to watch you.”

“Alright,” You said, standing and following him out of the back of the vardo and led you to the front. “What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know my name and I don’t need to know yours,” He said, vaulting up and not offering his hand. You were forced to clamor up the opposite side. “Once we get to Chesterfield, I expect to never see you again.”

“Fair enough,” You said, hunkering down in the driver’s box, sitting as far away from him as you could, and fell silent as the carriage lurched forward.

He pulled out a small bag of puffed grains and dried fruits and began to munch on them as the vardo trundled on, the lone mule’s head bobbing up and down as it took each step. You took out a small amount of hard cheese and nibbled on it.

“I’ll trade you a bite of cheese for a handful of your trail snacks,” You told him.

He shrugged. “Sure,” He replied, taking the morsel of cheese you offered him and pouring some of the grains and fruits in your palm.

“What were you going to Red Landing for?” You asked him.

He looked at you sidelong before answering. “I was going to buy some shells to make paint.”

“Are you a painter?” You asked.

“Yes,” He replied.

“Did you do the scrollwork and the fresco in the vardo?”

“I did.”

“Wow,” You replied, impressed. “It’s really good work. I mean, I’m not an expert, but I enjoyed it very much.”

“I don’t know what weight the praise of a trespasser might carry, but thank you all the same.”

You bristled. “I said I was sorry. And I’ve paid you. There’s no reason to be rude.”

That effectively killed conversation and your appetite. You put your food back in your bag and sat still and quiet, staring at the trees as they passed.

After an hour, the vardo stopped, and you looked at the satyr for the first time since his quip.

“Why have we stopped?” You asked.

“Shh,” He replied. “Listen. Do you hear that?”

You strained your hearing. “I just hear birds and the trees rustling.”

“Stay here,” He said, throwing down the reins and jumping down. “If you run off with my stuff, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’m not going to run off, relax,” You said in annoyance.

He sniffed and walked into the trees and out of sight. You waited nervously for him to return, clutching your bag against your body, until eventually you heard a sniffling and whimpering. The satyr emerged from the trees carrying what you thought was a dog at first, but on closer inspection, it was wearing a shirt and pants.

“Oh, my goodness!” You cried, putting down your bag and hopping down. “Are you alright, little one!”

He whined much like a puppy. You reached from him, and he crawled into your arms, hiding his snout in your hair.

“I haven’t been able to get much out of him,” The satyr said. “But I remember the sheriff in Willowridge is a gnoll and has a couple of young sons. The crossroads to Willowridge is nearby. We may be making a detour.”

“That’s just fine, isn’t it?” You cooed to the little gnoll boy. “That’s no problem, eh? Let’s get you home, sweet pea. I’ve got some jerky in my bag. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” The boy said watery.

“Alright, sweetie pie, let’s get you some food, then.” You popped back up into the driver’s box with the boy clinging to you like a baby possum. The satyr got back up and snapped the reins, pushing the mule to movement.

After he ate, he seemed a bit more calm, and you were able to get him to talk to you. You learned that his name was Declan and he was indeed the youngest son of Willowridge’s sheriff, Feera. He was three years old and apparently a sleepwalker, having woken up in the forest a little while before the satyr heard him crying. How he managed to cross so much land in his sleep was unimaginable, but at least he was heading home now.

It didn’t take long for him to become rambunctious, and the satyr pulled Declan into his lap and let him take the reins. Declan squealed happily as he wiggled the reins back and forth. The mule was patient and didn’t take off when he felt the slapping on his back.

After a while, he fell asleep in the satyr’s arms. The satyr cradled him while still keeping a firm hand on the reins.

“You’re good with kids,” You remarked.

He shrugged. “I grew up around a bunch of kids, so I’m used to handling them.”

“Do you have a lot of younger siblings?”

“Something like that,” He replied.

As you rounded the bend, Willowridge came into view. You’d only been there once when you were ten when your father was still a builder. He’d retired from construction just afterward.

“Hey, Declan!” You said, tickling him awake. “Look, you’re home!”

Declan woke up in the satyr’s arms and looked around, his ears perking up. He yipped excitedly.

“Oy!” The satyr called out. “Anyone missing a kid?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” An older woman said, running out from a nearby trail. She was wearing trousers and had long brown hair with wisps of white in it. “Where have you been, you naughty thing! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! You come to Gramma right this instant!” She took the little boy from the satyr’s arms and hugged him tight. She turned and called to a large centaur that was next to her. “Can you go and fetch Eris and Feera?”

“Yes, Mama,” He said, and he dashed off with a flick of his tail.

“Thank you two so much,” She said, reaching up to shake your hand.

“Oh, it was all him,” You said. “He heard Declan crying in the forest.”

“Keen hearing,” The satyr said, flicking his long ears. “Alexei, pleasure to meet you, madam.” You introduced yourself as well.

“My name is Ryel. Let me buy you folks dinner and a bed for the evening. It’s the least I can do. Who knows what might have happened to Declan if you two hadn’t found him.

As you were about to answer, a large gnoll and a woman with a river of golden hair flying behind her sprinted toward you. The gnoll was on all fours and much faster than the woman, who was clutching her skirts in her fists so she didn’t trip on them as she ran. Running at her side was another gnoll child, slightly bigger than Declan.

“Declan!” The gnoll cried out, and Ryel handed the boy off to his father as soon as he skidded to a stop and reared up on his hind legs. “By the gods, son, you scared the life out of me!”

The woman, Eris, stopped next to her husband, her face wet with tears, and she took the boy without a word, squeezing him tight and crying silently. Feera encircled both of them in his arms and held them for a moment. The other gnoll boy stood with his grandmother, holding her hand and biting at one of his claws in wide-eyed confusion.

After a moment, Feera let go of his wife and approached you.

“Thank you, strangers,” He said, reaching up to shake your hands like his mother had.

“It’s my pleasure, sir,” Alexei replied, shaking firmly.

“Please, let me buy the two of you a drink,” Feera said, waving over a stable boy from the nearby tavern. “We’ll take your mule and cart and make sure they’re both taken care of. Are you folks hungry?”

The family ushered you and Alexei into the inn and sat you down at a table, ordering ale and a meal for everyone. Eris had a firm grip on her youngest son and an arm around her oldest. Declan now seemed to be completely over his sojourn into the woods by himself, though his parents still seemed slightly traumatized by it.

“That’s the farthest he’s ever gone,” Eris said. She was a taciturn woman who didn’t smile much, which made her appear rather stern. “We’re usually good about keeping everything locked up tight. I still don’t know how he got out. We’ve even nailed the windows closed.”

“Who knows?” Feera said, rubbing his wife’s back soothingly. “He could have shimmied out of the slats in the attic. Looks like I’ll have to nail that shut too.”

“Here you go, dearies,” The innkeeper said, laying a key on the table. “Here’s your room for the night. The bed is nice and big, so you’ll both be comfortable.”

“Oh,” Alexei said. “No, we’re not together. I was giving her a ride. I hadn’t met her before today.”

“Oh,” The innkeeper said, dismayed. “I’m afraid I only have the one room available right now.”

“That’s alright, we’ll take it. Thank you for your generosity,” You said, taking the key and smiling. In an undertone, you said to Alexei, “It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s no big deal.”

He grimaced but said nothing.

That night, you unrolled your bedroll and got ready to lay down. He had taken the bed, since you offered it, and was already half asleep. He had taken off his vest but left his tunic on. You stared at him thoughtfully, debating with yourself.

“Alexei,” You called.

He snorted and opened his eyes, looking over at you blearily. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Would you marry me?”

His eyes shot open and he stared at the ceiling for a full minute before sitting up to glare at you.

“What?”

“Look, I know it’s a weird thing to ask--”

“It’s a crazy thing to ask!”

“Can I just explain myself before you think I’m crazy?”

“It’s too late for that, but please, go ahead.” He sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed and his hands clasped in his lap, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m escaping an arranged marriage,” You began bluntly. “I was only told of the engagement three days prior to leaving home. I met him at a dinner the night before what was to be our wedding day for the first time. You could not imagine a more boorish, rude, inept man.”

“I bet I could.”

You snorted. “He did nothing but drink wine during the dinner, leering at both me and the serving staff and making rather unseemly comments about my face and body, considering he’d only just met me. His parents just shushed him, but in a dismissive, boys-will-be-boys kind of way that made me want to tear my hair out.”

“When was this whole thing set up?”

“I’d apparently been promised to him since I was five years old. His family is rich from textile money, but they have a less that immaculate reputation. His parents need the respectability that my family’s name offers in order to regain many of their clients and trade routes.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s the son’s, my so-called husband-to-be’s, fault. I learned through conversation with his parents that he didn’t work in his family business at all and traveled quite often on his parent’s dime. After they had gotten rather drunk, his parents admitted that he had already fathered two children out of wedlock that they knew of.”

His head rocked back. “That’s concerning. Are your parents still on board with the wedding?”

“Yes. Part of the deal is a large investment from my fiance’s parents; my parents need the money to retire.”

“So you decided to escape in the middle of the night, is that it?”

You nodded. “Thankfully, my parents hadn’t paid the officiant yet, and therefore the wedding hadn’t been formally recorded with the county as a done-deal, so I decided to leave until the contract ran its course. I knew where my parents kept their money and only took what I thought I would need to get to Dunmountain. They aren’t exactly rich, after all, just well-respected. I plan to pay them back at some point. I just pray they understand.”

“So, you’re asking me to marry you to get out of the engagement?”

“Yes,” You said. “The contract is void if I turn twenty five before the wedding or if I have been married to someone else for a minimum of six months with verifiable proof. Meaning I have to have both my husband and the marriage certificate in hand and meet with a mediator to authenticate it. And since twenty five is three years away, the only hope I have of freedom is to marry someone else.”

He folded his arms. “And exactly what do I get out of this? Six months is a long time to be stuck with a stranger, you know.”

“I know. I’ll give you every penny I have. Wherever we end up, I’ll pick up jobs. I’ll pay for everything. I’ll cook and clean. You won’t have to lift a finger. I’ll do whatever I can to make this as painless for you as possible, and then when it’s over, we can have the marriage annulled and you never have to see me again.”

He considered you for a long moment, chewing his lip.

“I know it’s sudden and out of the blue,” You continued. “But I’m desperate and willing to put my trust, and money, in a stranger.”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his beard. “Look, give me a day to consider it. This is a lot for me to process.”

“Alright,” You said. “Thank you for even entertaining the idea. I haven’t done much to endear myself to you, so I appreciate that you didn’t turn me down outright.”

He flopped back down on the bed. “Go to sleep.”

“You still don’t know my name,” You said, lying down.

“If I accept, you can tell me. Just go to sleep. Or don’t, I don’t care.” He rolled over toward the wall, facing away from you, clearly indicating the conversation was over. You covered yourself with your cloak, your thoughts in a roil, and eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, Alexei was gone. After a moment of panic, you packed up your things and rushed downstairs, hoping to ask after him, only to find him sitting and eating breakfast. He looked up when you came stumbling down, but made no gesture of greeting, simply continued to eat. You almost went to go sit with him, but thought, why? You don’t know him, after all. Instead, you went to sit at the bar.

“Getcha anythin’, darlin’?” The barmaid asked. She had a friendly north-eastern Scottish accent.

“You folks offer a breakfast plate or something like that?” You asked.

“Sure do. Mulled cider to go with?”

“Sounds great, thank you.”

She went off to get your food and drink and you sat there, feeling anxious.

“Pardon me,” A voice said to your right. It was Eris, the young mother of the gnoll child. Despite her somber face, she was actually rather lovely when she wasn’t crying.

“Oh, yes, ma’am, what can I do for you?”

“Take this, please,” She said, holding out a small drawstring sack. “It’s not much, but I wouldn’t feel right if you walked away with no reward for what you did for my family.”

“Oh, ma’am, no, you don’t have to do this,” You protested, but she held up a hand to stop you.

“Please, it would mean a lot to me. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to him,” She said. She scratched her neck self-consciously. Though she wore a high collared dress, you could see a scar peeking out of the neckline.

“Really, Alexei should get this, he’s the one who found him,” You told her.

“He’s already been given his share,” She said. “Take it, please.”

You smiled and sighed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Her normally reserved, neutral expression lightened into a smile. “I hope we meet again.” And she took her leave.

The barmaid laid a plate of scrambled eggs and a fried potato hash in front of you along with a large tankard of cider.

You’d eaten half of it when Alexei sidled up and sat on the stool next to you. He didn’t look at you, but set his tankard in front of him and flagged down the barmaid, who refilled it.

“Do you get on with your folks? Are they good parents?”

“Yeah,” You replied, stunned by the sudden question. “They’re nice parents, they’ve never been cruel to me. I supposed I’m closer to my mother than my father, but we all get along well. I’ve never had to doubt if they loved me, if that’s what you mean.”

“But they’re okay with you marrying this pissant, though?”

You sighed. “Their marriage was arranged, and they were fine with it. I suppose they think that my fiance, Gregory, will settle down when we marry, but I doubt it. I don’t see how being married to a stranger is supposed to make someone like him straighten up.” You set down your fork and leaned your elbows on the bar. “Besides, even good parents may not always do what’s best for their kids. Sometimes they do what’s best for themselves. They’re just as capable of being selfish at the expense of others as any other person can be.” You took a gulp of cider and blew out a breath of frustration.

“Do you hate them?”

“No,” You said slowly. “I’m angry at them, but that doesn’t mean I hate them.”

He took a drink and huffed. “It’s all so confusing.”

“How do you mean?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. What were you going to do once you got to Dunmountain?”

“Hide. Get a job somewhere, anywhere. Sleep in a shed, if I have to. Lie low until I turned twenty five. Maybe go back when the contract runs out. Maybe.”

“You don’t want to see your parents again?”

“It’s not that,” You said, poking at your food. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place. If it wasn’t for the engagement, I wouldn’t have had to. I don’t know what they’ll do if I ever go back. Maybe they’ll disown me. Maybe they’ll force me to work or write up another marriage contract with Gregory or someone else to get the money they need. I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have a say?”

You scoffed. “Of course not. Women are the property of their fathers until they get married, and then they’re the property of their husbands. Property doesn’t get a say.”

He was silent for a long time, every so often reaching over to pick an onion off of your plate.

“I guess I just have one thing left to ask you, then,” He said.

“Which is?”

He turned to you and clicked his tongue. “What’s your name, pet?”

The two of you left Willowridge heading for Dunmountain, stopping for a few days in Chesterfield to have a quick courthouse wedding. He managed to find a simple iron ring in his belongings to use as a wedding band. After the wedding, you gave him half of your money, telling him he’d get the other half after the annulment.

Once in Dunmountain, you left Alexei to handle the mule and vardo, and immediately began to look for work. The bathhouses were your best bet; there was always laundry that needed doing.

You also found a small apartment at an inn made up of a single room with a fireplace one could cook over. It wasn’t furnished with anything, not even a bed, but you figured you could make do with a bedroll and a simple table and chairs. You paid the rent for the next month and got the keys, rushing back to Alexei to tell him where you’d be living.

He drove you back to the apartment on his carriage, and the two of you began hauling your belongings up the stairs to your room.

“I’ll buy furnishings tomorrow,” You told him. “We’re not staying here long, so we won’t need much.”

“Didn’t you say you’d see to my every comfort?” He teased. “I want a canopy bed with feather down and a lounging sofa and--”

You shushed him. “I said I’d cook and clean and pay the necessary expenses. You want anything else, you can pay for it yourself.”

He chuckled. “Did you find a job?”

“I start at the bathhouse adjacent to the inn in two days. I’ll leave you food for the day and cook when I get home. That’ll have to do.” You opened the door to the room and stepped inside. “I have enough provisions to make a simple stew, unless you’d like something else.”

“Stew sounds fine,” He said, setting down a small trunk. “I think I’ll go out tomorrow and look for paint supplies. I sold all of my paintings on my trip and I need to create some new ones. If I go too long without painting, I get irritable.”

“I’d hate to see what that looks like,” You said snidely. The only thing in the room provided by the inn was a bucket for drawing water from the nearby fountain. “I’ll fetch some water for dinner.”

A few months passed awkwardly but uneventfully. Alexei was companionable enough, but the two of you hadn’t made any attempts to bond or become close. You exchanged passing pleasantries, but the two of you didn’t converse much. He sometimes teased you by asking if your “wifely duties” extended to sharing the marital bed, seeing as how your bedrolls had been placed on opposite sides of the room. You merely smacked his backside with a hand towel and told him to get back to his paintings.

“Would you ever consider sitting for a painting, pet?” He asked you once as you were cleaning dishes.

You snorted. “I expected you’d want me to model nude for you or some nonsense.”

He laughed. “Only if that’s what you’d like, dear wife of mine.”

“Don’t call me that,” You said, lobbing a crumb of bread at his head. He didn’t duck, just let it hit him and caught it, popping it in his mouth. “And I will do no such thing.”

“Offer is open, if you ever change your mind.”

“If the earth opened and the devil himself ordered me to do it, I’d still refuse.”

Alexei laughed full-throated. “That’d be a sight worth seeing.”

As annoying as he could be, he wasn’t an unpleasant man to live with. He didn’t do any of the washing or cooking, but you didn’t care since you promised to do it yourself. Even still, he was fairly tidy and didn’t make much of a mess. He liked to joke and tease, but he was mostly harmless. For all his teasing, he never once made a move on you or gave you any reason to fear he might take advantage of you.

You also had to admit, he was very talented. He sold his paintings just as fast as he made them, which was a little bit of a shame, you thought: your room was a little plain and dour, and you’d have liked one or two of them to hang on the wall to brighten the place up. You never asked, though. You couldn’t go asking for favors from the man who’d already promised six months of his life to you.

On your birthday, you got permission to finish work early and decided to go and buy the ingredients to make an apple and honey pot pie to go with dinner that night. Since you didn’t have a stove, you’d have to bake it in a pan over the fire, but you knew how to do it. It was one of the first treats your mother had ever taught you to make.

Apples were in season and would be cheap enough--the cheapest of the fruits available anyway--but honey would be quite expensive. A single spoonful cost several days worth of work. But you figured, you’d been working hard. You’d earned it.

When you arrived back at the apartment, he stood up from his painting stool to take your shopping basket.

“Is that honey I smell?” He said, sniffing. “That’s pricey. What’s the occasion, pet?”

“It’s my birthday,” You told him. “I was going to make a pie.”

“Is it!” He said, smiling. “That certainly is reason for celebration. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not like we have regular conversations, you know,” You said, unpacking the shopping. “Besides, I didn’t think it would matter to you.”

“Well, that’s a bit unfair,” He said, frowning. “Are we not friends?”

“Are we?” You asked, stopping to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Out of the way, please. I need to start the crust now or I’ll be cooking all night.”

He frowned at you still but said nothing, taking two steps back so you could bustle about making dinner.

“What would you want as a gift?” He asked, leaning against the wall and watching you work.

“I don’t want anything,” You replied, not looking up. “If I did, I’d get it myself.”  

“Oh, come now,” He said, tsking. “You may not think of us as friends, but after four months, I would assume we’d have developed some kind of rapport. What would you ask of a friend?”

“I wouldn’t ask anything of a friend,” You said. “I’m not the type of person who expects gifts.”

“Didn’t your parents ever give you gifts?”

“That’s different, they’re my parents.”

“Family, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m family now, aren’t I?” He asked.

“I will throw a plate at you.”

“Just tell me,” He said, his voice a little wheedling. “There must be one thing I can get you that you’d allow.”

You sighed forcefully and stopped kneading the dough, turning to him and looking him up and down. “Are you serious about this?”

“Have you ever known me not to be serious?” He asked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and when back to work, and he stuttered a retraction.

“No, no, I am, I’m serious. Please, tell me, what would you like?”

You stopped again and wiped your hands on your apron, and then crossed them over your chest. “Well… I’d like a painting.”

He looked like you’d hit him in the head with your baking pan. “What?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything grand, just a little painting of anything, flowers or trees or something like that, to brighten up the room. It’s a bit drab here.” You waved around vaguely. “There isn’t even a window. Just… some color. That’s all.”

“You want me to paint for you?” He asked, incredulous. “That’s all?”

“Well… I know painting supplies are expensive and I didn’t want to ask for anything, seeing as I promised to take care of everything myself. Like I said, I’m not the type to expect presents or things like that.”

“You don’t like to ask for things for yourself, do you, pet?” He asked shrewdly. “Not just from me, huh? In general.”

You turned your back to him and started kneading again. “My parents were both born peasants. Peasants don’t get gifts. When they married, they lived in a one-room cruck house that my father built them as a wedding gift. A house of straw and dirt was all my father could offer my mother, and it was good enough. They both worked their hands to the bone to get where they are. They live in a much nicer house now and don’t have to work as hard as they used to, but they raised me to appreciate what I could do with my own hands and not to rely on gifts. ‘A gift is never free,’ they’d always say.” You stopped working again and stared at your hands. “They used to tell me that I was ‘a gift’ to them. I wonder now if that meant they always saw me as a means to an end.”

“I always thought parents were supposed to put their children above everything else,” He said softly from behind you, continuing to watch you.

“Is that what your parents were like?” You asked in return. He didn’t answer and you looked over your shoulder at him.

“I wouldn’t know,” He said eventually, sitting down at the table and taking an apple from the basket. “Never met them. I grew up in an orphanage.” He took a knife from his pocket and began to peel and slice the apples.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” You remarked.

“Hush,” He said, not looking at you. “It’s your birthday.”

Dinner was pleasant, and the pie was delicious. There was enough left over to to have for breakfast the next morning. Alexei even helped you tidy up. The day had been rather nice.

So why, when you lay down for bed, did it suddenly feel like you couldn’t breathe?

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 5

Request: Yes or No

TW: Pietro dying imsosorry

I'm still unsure about love interests but I'm leaning towards Wanda and y/n having a brief romance and then Wanda goes to Vis and y/n goes to Bucky or someone else.

~

Sokovia was chilly but not too cold. It reminded you of the orphanage. Depressing, quiet, and not much interaction between the people around. You weren't surprised. War and bombs weren't something to celebrate. You directed people down the street with Clint, seeing some red energy moving around the streets as Wanda got to the civilians inside their homes. People slowly drove out of the city.

"All these people.. What happens if the city's destroyed?" You asked, frowning as you watched the mothers urge their children to walk faster and the elderly couples help each other.

"Well.. They'll find new homes somewhere else." Clint replied. You turned your head, making eye contact with Wanda. She frowned at Clint's words but stayed silent, looking away from you. You turned your head, hearing shouting and screaming.

"Shit." You whispered, feeling the roots wrap around your fingers. Wanda made a shield with her powers, buying time for the civilians around her to run. She grunted, falling to the ground. You quickly helped her up, hearing her whisper a thanks. You raised your hand, making the root shoot out and impale the robots head. You made a fist so the roots wrapped around the head, swinging your arm to the side and flinging it towards more robots. Wanda gave you a nod before walking away, helping some civilians up. You turned when an arrow whizzed past your head, breathing out a soft sigh.

"Unnecessary."

"It looked cool." Clint grinned. You rolled your eyes, approaching him. You felt the ground begin to tremble under your feet, the screaming getting louder.

"Clint?" You heard Ultron speaking through the robots.

"Stay next to me." Clint said, raising his bow and shooting an arrow at a robot. You nodded, raising your arms. The roots shoot out, wrapping around the neck of a robot and squeezing until the head shot up, making the body go limp. Wanda shot down one robot though you could see the fear in her eyes. She didn't know what to do and it was obvious. You looked up, seeing more robots flying in. Clint suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, doing the same to Wanda and jumping through a window to avoid an explosion. He quickly sat up while Wanda whimpered and whispered panicked things under her breath.

"Wanda? Wanda, hey." You crawled towards her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. Clint frowned, scooting closer.

"You alright?" He asked gently.

"This is all our fault." She whimpered, hands trembling as she took in sharp breaths.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Clint called, watching her look at him with teary eyes.

"It's your fault, it's our fault, who cares? Are you up to this?" Clint asked, staring at her. Wanda didn't respond, still taking in quick breaths as her gaze flickered around.

"Look, I just need to know cause the city is flying."

"If you can't do this, you can leave with the civilians." You told her, gently rubbing her back.

"Look, the city is flying, we're fighting an army of robots, I have a bow and arrow, and (Y/N) is Mother Nature. None of this makes sense." Clint told her, grunting when the wall was shot at. Wanda flinched, leaning more against you.

"I can't do my job and babysit more than two people, okay?" You blinked at Clint's words, scoffing softly.

"It doesn't matter what you did or who you were. If you can't, stay here and I'll get your brother to come find you but if you step out that door, you are an Avenger." Clint said. Wanda stayed silent, thinking about his words. Clint stood up, getting three arrows ready.

"You coming?" Clint cocked a brow, kicking the doors open and stepping out. Wanda watched him go before meeting your eyes.

"You can do this, Wanda. Where's the girl who was able to put half of the Avengers out of commission?" You gave her a small smile. Wanda swallowed, hands clenching and unclenching.

"I-I'm scared."

"I am too. So is Clint, Cap, and everybody else. You know who's even more terrified? The civilians running around without a clue about what's going on. We have to ignore our fear in order to protect them because they're defenseless." You placed your hands on her shoulders, feeling her trembling. You gave her shoulders a squeeze. You noticed a small flower in the cracks of the floor, moving your hand over it and watching it grow. You plucked it from the ground, placing it into her shakey hands.

"You'll be okay." You stood up, feeling her gaze on you as you exited the building. You swallowed, hands tingling as you searching for roots underground. You found some, raising your hand and watching them shoot up from the ground, wrapping around some of the robots flying. They wrapped around them, making them explode. You turned your head, seeing Wanda outside. She took out three robots at once, panting softly and turning towards you and Clint. You relaxed, the ground shaking gently as the roots from underground retreated back down.

"We're all clear." Clint said.

"We are not clear. We are not clear at all." Steve responded, voice strained. You hummed, chuckling softly. A flash ran by, picking up Wanda.

"Keep up, old man!" Pietro called as he ran. Clint clenched his jaw, raising an arrow.

"Nobody would know." He muttered, thinking it over as you laughed softly. A gust of wind went by again before you were picked up as well.

"Oh, fuck me-" You held onto Pietro, eyes shutting as you felt the wind hitting you. You could hear Clint mumbling things about Pietro, calling him a quick little bastard. Pietro set you down besides Wanda, a hand on your back as you stumbled a bit.

"I forgot I had a bagel for breakfast." You whispered, finding your footing.

"You'll get used to it." Wanda said with a chuckle. She walked forward, hands glowing red.

"No, no, I don't think I will." You replied, raising your hand at a robot. You blinked when the ground suddenly opened beneath the robot, causing it to fall in.

"That's new." You mumbled, surprised as you closed your fist, the ground returning to normal. Pietro grunted when he was grazed by a bullet. The robots stopped momentarily so you and the twins quickly rounded up as many civilians as possible. You heard Natasha and Steve talking before hearing Fury. You spotted the aircrafts, letting out a sigh of relief. You directed the people to the aircrafts, watching them get on.

"Avengers, time to work for a living." Tony called. You walked back to the center, seeing the others. You turned to face Ultron, adrenaline pumping. You were definitely gonna take a nap once the mission was over.

"Is that the best you can do?!" Thor shouted at Ultron. In response, Ultron raised his arm, hundreds of robots running and flying in. Your shoulders slumped as Steve looked at Thor.

"You had to ask." He muttered.

"This is the best I can do." Ultron replied, smugness in his voice.

"This is exactly what I wanted. All of you against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?" Ultron asked.

"Well.. Like the old man said.. Together?" Tony answered, hearing Hulk let out a cry. The center was quickly swarmed, robots coming in from above and the sides. You raised your arms and pulled apart, making the ground open.

"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

"No clue but it's new and it's working." You glanced at Clint, bringing your arms together and crushing the robots stuck in the ground. Tony, Tony Jr, and Thor took care of Ultron while you and the others continued to fight. The robots began to retreat, giving you time to breath.

"You guys get to the boats. The air's getting thin." Steve ordered, looking over everyone.

"What about the core?" Clint asked.

"I'll protect it." Wanda announced, looking at Clint. "It's my job."

"Stay safe." You told her, brows raising. Wanda nodded.

"I will, Mother Nature." Wanda smiled softly. You returned the smile, following Natasha and Clint to a convertible. You got in the back, listening to Clint talk about some new plans for the home as he drove.

"Laura deserves a vacation." You called, staring up at the sky.

"That's what I've been saying! We need to go on an all girl vacation." Natasha said, earning a chuckle from you. You got out of the car, hearing Hulk grunting. Natasha quickly got out to go find him. You noticed a woman calling out for someone, frowning. Clint looked around for any movement, noticing a child stuck in the rubble.

"Clint-"

"Stay here." He instructed, getting off the boat and jogging towards the kid. You frowned, watching him. You heard gunshots, looking up and watching an aircraft shoot down, aiming right at Clint.

"Clint!" You screamed, getting off the boat and running towards him. You came to a slow stop, watching as Pietro's body fell over. You slowly walked towards him, getting down beside him. You pressed two trembling fingers to his neck but found no pulse. You looked at Clint through watery eyes, shaking your head. You swallowed, remembering the time when you were a child and healed an injured cat. You hovered your hand over one of the bullet holes, watching the root reach down but nothing happened. You frowned, feeling tears slip down your cheeks. You hadn't known him for long but you were looking forward to having a new friend.

"I'm sorry." You heard Steve's voice gently say, resting a hand on your shoulder. You sniffled and stood, watching Steve pick up his body and take him to a boat. You followed, mind blank. You knew death came with the job but Pietro had years ahead of him. Clint reunited the child with his mother, grunting as he took a seat. You did the same, staring down at his body. Clint lied down, resting his head on your lap.

"You don't have to become an Avenger, (Y/N)." Clint grunted softly. You swallowed, shaking your head.

"I'm just gonna need a therapist." You whispered, hearing Clint laugh softly.

~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled, watching the video of Nathaniel playing with the toy you bought him. Wanda looked over your shoulder, cooing softly.

"Is that him?" She asked softly. You nodded, chuckling.

"Nathaniel Pietro Barton." You cooed, watching him. Wanda hummed, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Hey, love birds." Sam greeted with a teasing grin. You looked up at him, rolling your eyes as Wanda shook her head.

"We aren't a couple." She reminded him.

"Mhm." Sam nodded slowly, sounding and looking completely unconvinced. You turned off your phone, looking over his outfit. Sam noticed, hands going to his hips.

"Looks dope, right?" He grinned, nodding to himself.

"So.. All you do is fly?" You asked, watching his face drop when Rhodes cracked up.

"Yes, I fly. That's.. That's cool, right?" Sam asked, looking at the others. You shrugged, giving him a playful smile.

"I mean.. He can fly, Vision can fly, Wanda can fly..." You trailed off, chuckling at his scowl. You stood up, nodding.

"Yes, it is cool that you can fly, Wilson. I'm just messing with you." You said, putting your phone away. You turned your head when Steve and Natasha entered.

"Avengers, assemble!" He called, code words for get in line. You walked forward, standing beside Vision and Wanda. Natasha met your gaze, smiling.

"Did you see the video?" She mouthed, clearly excited. You gave her a small nod, smiling softly.

"(Y/N), Dr. Cho wants to talk with you after training. She has some theories she wants to run by you." Steve told you, heading down the steps and standing in front of the line. You nodded. After Hulk disappeared, Dr. Cho had approached you to finally run those tests. You still had no idea what triggered your new ability to open up the ground and it was something you had to work on during training.

"Let's begin." Natasha crossed her arms, a grin on her lips. You swallowed, watching her. You shared a glance with Wanda, being sent off to different spots in order to show off everyone's abilities.

"Let's start with you, Barton." Steve said, standing infront of you as Natasha placed down a pot with dirt. You lifted your hands, humming softly and taking a step back. Steve and Natasha hesitantly did the same. You made a fist, watching the bonsai tree burst up, overgrown and roots spilling over the pot. The roots moved, movements following your fingers.

"How are you doing with your other abilities?" Steve asked, watching the roots. You swallowed, looking at him.

"Still working on it." You answered, lowering your hands. The tree retracted back into the pot. Laura had mentioned that if there was more to your powers, you could end up being the most powerful person on Earth. You just needed to figure out how to control them at any given moment. The two moved onto Wanda. You watched her show off her abilities. Pietro would be proud of her. You thought about him a lot. The way he sacrificed himself for Clint and the child. How broken Wanda looked.

You turned your head as the boat landed, watching people get out and be tended to by medics. Clint got up, leaving the boat as well with soft grunts. You spotted Wanda, relieved she had gotten to safety before the rock exploded. Wanda silently got on the boat, expression blank until she saw her brother. Her brows slightly raised, eyes watering as she gently got on the ground beside him. Soft sobs left her as she raised his head and placed it on her lap, gently running her fingers through his hair. Tears ran down her dirt and ash covered cheeks. You sat down beside her, wrapping gentle arms around her and pulling her against your body. Her sobs turned into cries. She cried until she couldn't anymore, letting them take away the body. She stared blankly at the spot where his body had lied, sniffling.

"I'm alone." She whispered. "I have no one."

"You have me."

[headcanonsandmore]

Gentry and Gentlemen,  Chapter One

Summary:  Hermione Granger has just begun a new position of governess at Ottery Manor in the Devon Countryside, a world away from her upbringing in Regency-era London. There she meets a redheaded blacksmith man named Ron Weasley. Sparks may just fly between the middle class city woman and the working-class country man with a genuine and heartfelt charm all his own. (Jane Austen Romione AU)

Tagging: @hillnerd @nagemeikenu @acnelli @aimless-twig @femaledoubleagent @thehufflepuffpixie @adenei @abradystrix

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                   Read on FFN.                                      Read on AO3.

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The Regency period is full of stories about dashing military officers and their lovers, titled men and women, and the romantic misadventures of the landed gentry. Almost always of young ladies of the gentry and their aristocratic suitors. Of money, land, and upper class goings-on. The sort of stories that have become synonymous with high romance, retold countless times since.

This is not one of those stories.

 *

 The stagecoach trundled along the country lane. It was the middle of April, and the Devon countryside was quickly losing any vestiges of the winter. Trees were growing green, bees were pollinating all manner of plants, and the lane was fast becoming dusty due to the lack of rain.

‘Oh, really, good sir!’ giggled a lady, her aristocratic manner evident in her voice. ‘You are a delight!’

‘My pleasure, good lady,’ replied the gentleman, a large tall man with a similar way of speaking. ‘I find myself inclined to be such when in the company of such an amiable person as yourself.’

There was a loud crack, as one of the stagecoach wheels hit a hole in the lane.

‘My apologies, ladies and gentlemen!’ exclaimed the coachman from above. ‘The roads have not been repaired after the winter rains!’

‘You’d think the locals would have done something about it,’ complained the gentleman to his lady friend. ‘But I suppose that is to be expected of being so far out from respectable society.’

The woman sat across from the couple stared out of the window, a slight frown briefly appearing on her face. Her fellow passengers did not notice this, and had made no attempt at conversation with her for the entire journey from Exeter. But she was somewhat glad of that.

She was a young woman, in her mid-twenties and, unlike the pair sat across from her, was not wearing the latest fashions of aristocratic society. Her dress was well-worn but functional, as befitted her position. Her hat was smart was simple but sturdy. Her face was impassive, yet strong, and her eyes - a dark brown- were piercingly intelligent. A parasol, far from new, was placed sensibly across her lap. Her shoes, polished but faded from use, were the sort worn by practical working women since time immemorial. However, in contrast to all this was her hair; an enormous bushy mane that strained against the many pins she had used to keep it in place. It was the sort of hair that you couldn’t help but notice, and it was perhaps for that reason that the young lady had chosen to keep her hat on in the coach despite the heat.  

‘Final stop; Ottery St Catchpole!’

The coach trundled to a halt, and the coachman (whose name was Mr Jones) climbed down, pulling the small set of steps out from under the coach door. The gentleman helped his lady companion down, and the two of them sauntered away with their bags without so much as a thank you to the coachman.

Sighing to himself, the coachman turned.

‘Er… my apologies, Mr Jones,’ came a voice from within the coach. ‘Could you help me down, please?’

‘Of course, miss,’ he said, before helping the young lady down to the ground. ‘Allow me to help you with your bags as well.’

‘Thank you.’

As the coachman pulled her bags out from the luggage racks, the young lady stared down the street. The gentleman and his lady friend were laughing loudly to themselves outside one of the shops.

‘They were awfully rude, weren’t they?’

‘Afraid so, Miss,’ replied Mr Jones. ‘Many from London feel that Devon might as well be on another planet.’

‘I hope you won’t judge me by their behaviour.’

‘Oh, of course not, Miss…er… my apologies, my memory isn’t what it once was…’

‘Granger.’ Hermione Granger said, giving a small curtsy. ‘And thank you for keeping me company on such a pleasant journey, Mr Jones.’

‘My pleasure, Miss Granger,’  Mr Jones said, tipping his cap. ‘I’m surprised that such a pleasant young lady like yourself is travelling all alone, truth be told.’

‘Well, you see, I’m on my way to a new place of employment.’ Hermione said. ‘Ottery Manor; perhaps you know it?’

‘Oh, yeah, Miss. Very prominent local gentry.’

‘I am due to take up the post of governess for the young children,’ Hermione elaborated.  

‘A governess, you say?’ Mr Jones said, looking very surprised.

‘Yes, I recently achieved my qualification, you see.’

‘Very impressive, Miss. Er… just a word of warning, if you please?’

‘Whatever for?’

‘Well…’ Mr Jones looked rather uncomfortable. ‘You are… that is…’

Hermione sighed. She had been expecting this.

‘Mr Jones, I am well aware that the colour of my skin is perhaps not what the locals are used to.’

‘Oh, no, miss; that’s not what I meant!’ Mr Jones replied, shaking his head quickly. ‘Good gracious, no! Plymouth isn’t that far away, and we’re used to seeing people from all over the world popping through. It’s just… the gentry round here… aren’t quite so relaxed about it as the ordinary people are.’

Hermione smiled. Mr Jones was a sweet old man who clearly wanted to warn her as best he could, even if he didn’t quite have the terminology correct.

‘Thank you, Mr Jones; you are very kind.’

‘My pleasure, miss.’

‘Could you… point me in the direction of the manor house?’

Mr Jones nodded, pointing along up the narrow winding street of Ottery St Catchpole.

‘You can’t miss it; the big house on the hill.’

‘Thank you.’

As Hermione made her way through the main street, she was aware of just how much of a different world this was to London, where she had lived most of her life. For one thing, people walked far slower and had a relaxed attitude in their comings and goings. One could certainly tell that the pace of life was slower.

Within a few minutes, Hermione had left the village, and headed along the country road up towards the manor house. The lack of rain had meant that dust was virtually inescapable, but Hermione preferred it to the mud she had been concerned about. She wouldn’t have wanted to make a first appearance with her best clothes dirtied. That would be most distressing. She, after all, was being entrusted with the care of the children of the local landed family, and ought to be presentable in a way that acknowledged that responsibility she was being granted.

Her stomach began to squirm, as her nerves became agitated. She had largely avoided thinking too much about it when she was travelling but, now that she was so close to the manor, she couldn’t help worrying. What if she wasn’t qualified for this? What if the other staff members didn’t like her? What if she-

‘NEIIIIIGHHHH!’

Hermione’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted, as a large horse rounded the corner of the lane, galloping as fast as it could, and heading right towards her. It was tall, brown, and looked startled, its eyes wide.

Hermione’s bags slipped from her hands as she stumbled backwards, but the horse was already barely seven feet away. With a cry, Hermione tripped over the uneven ground, her hat flying off her head.

The horse reared up on its hind legs, and Hermione found herself frozen on the ground. Hoofs began to fall.

‘WHOOOAAA!’

Suddenly, the horse was no longer there.

Coming to her senses, Hermione pulled herself to her feet, and collected her bags together.

A man, roughly her age, was stood with the horse a few feet away. The first thing of notice was his height, at least a foot taller than Hermione. His head was framed with short, red hair. Freckles covered every inch of skin that was on show. He was wearing a rough work shirt that was tied up to his elbows, and a pair of trousers that were slightly too short on him. A pair of tough work boots, that had clearly seen better days, completed the ensemble.

‘Sssshhhhh, Tiff….’ He soothed, stroking the horse’s neck slowly. ‘It’s okay, girl… no-one’s going to hurt you…’

‘Good grief!’

Another man had joined him.

‘Good thing you’re such a fast runner, mate!’

‘I try my best,’ replied the redheaded man. ‘Good thing we managed to catch her before she reached the village.’

As the horse was led away by the other man, the redhead turned and, spotting Hermione, ran forward.

‘Miss, are you alright?’ he exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of her. There was a splodge of dirt on his long nose. ‘Tiffany got spooked earlier, and we only just caught up with her. I’m so sorry; are you hurt?’

‘I’m… I’m fine, thank you,’ Hermione said, as a pair of bright blue eyes stared down at her. ‘Although I think my hat must have blown away in the wind.’

The redhead man looked around, and pointed up into the branches of a nearby tree.

‘You mean that one, with the nice bow?’

‘Yes, but-’

The man was up the tree in a flash, and was soon leaping down next to her again, holding her hat.

‘There we go,’ he said, handing it over. ‘Maybe a little dusty, but that’s the heatwave for you.’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said, placing the hat on top of her bushy hair. The two of them began to walk up the lane. ‘I appreciate your concern, Mr…’

‘Weasley,’ the redhead said, smiling. ‘But there’s enough of the Weasleys around here, so you can just call me Ron. Everyone else does; it’d be confusing otherwise.’

‘I… I don’t think that would be appropriate.’ Hermione said, as she bent down to pick up her bags.

‘Why? We’re all people, aren’t we?’ Mr Weasley replied. ‘Oh, let me help you.’

‘Yes, but I’m…’ Hermione stammered, as her load was lightened considerably. ‘Well, I’m starting at the Manor as the new governess.’

‘Oh, you’re the teacher everyone’s been gossiping about!’ Ron said, cheerily. ‘Miss… Granger, if my memory’s correct?

‘W-why, yes!’ Hermione exclaimed, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed. ‘Er…gossip, you say?’

‘Yes; the scullery-maids have been talking about nothing else for the past week,’ Mr Weasley replied, keenly. ‘Well, that and the summer fete. But, yes; a posh lady governess from up-country coming down to our little neck of the woods! They’ll be delighted to meet you!’

Hermione felt her cheeks flush.

‘I’m not nearly as posh as all that, Mr Weasley,’ she said, primly. ‘So I hope I don’t ruin their expectations when they see me.’

‘Why? You sound posh to me.’

‘No… I… I mean… well, look at me.’

The redhead stared at her in confusion, and Hermione felt she needed to elaborate.

‘Surely they were expecting someone less… exotic?’

Mr Weasley blinked.

‘You are from London, aren’t you? That’s pretty exotic.’

Hermione found herself suddenly laughing. Not the usual polite laughs she had been taught as a girl, but a full, unrestrained laugh, full of accompanying snorts.

‘London… exotic?!’

Mr Weasley grinned at her, his cheeks dimpling under his freckles.

‘If you’re born and raised in Devon, it is,’ he said, cheerfully. ‘Besides, I bet that’s the first time you’ve laughed in a good long while.’

‘Why… yes, it is,’ Hermione replied, smiling. ‘However could you tell?’

‘I hear tell of the aristo’s who take the stagecoach routes down from London. I gather they aren’t much in the way of humorous conversation?’

‘You would be correct about that. But where do you hear that from? Mr Jones the coachman?’

‘Old Jonesey? Oh, yes; lovely old soul. I’m the… well, the blacksmith and the odd-job man for the estate, so I’m in and out of the village a lot.’

Hermione nodded, trying not to notice how well the redheads shirt seemed to fit him. She supposed blacksmiths were all rather… muscley.

Ottery Manor stretched out before them. It was a double-storied building, with fine windows and a pair of thick oak doors. The house was arranged around a central courtyard, so that two wings of the house stretched out in front. A small fountain marked the middle of the courtyard, and the centre of the house was covered in fine ivy. Grounds stretched out around the house in all directions, full of trees and well-trimmed lawns. Hermione could make out some distant greenhouses and vegetable gardens on the periphery.  

‘You like the ivy?’ Mr Weasley enquired, pointing at the plant as they walked up the main pathway towards the house. ‘Me and my brother Bill -he works in the gardens- pruned them just last week; rather a nice effect, eh?’

‘Yes,’ Hermione replied. ‘Are all your siblings employed as members of staff here?’

‘No.’ the redhead said. ‘Percy -he’s the intellectual one- he works in Plymouth in an office. Fred and George -they’re the youngest brothers aside from me- work in the post office a few villages over.’

‘Any sisters?’

‘Just Ginny. She’s the youngest. Mum did want her to get a good job as a scullery maid, but Ginny’s always been more outdoorsy. She works in the gardens most of the time, but she sometimes helps me and Charlie in the forge.’

‘Charlie is… the main blacksmith aside from you, then?’

Mr Weasley laughed.

‘Yes, he’s always been good with animals, so he handles the shoe-fitting. I’m a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, myself; that’s why I’m the odd job man as well.’

‘There is nothing wrong with being multi-skilled,’ Hermione said, earnestly. ‘Most men in London would love to have a wide array of talents.’

Mr Weasley laughed again, his cheeks dimpling again.

By this point, they had reached the courtyard but, instead of heading for the front door, Mr Weasley lead her around one wing of the house and into a yard of sorts. Hermione could hear horses neighing nearby, and presumed that the stables weren’t that far away.

‘You’d best come through the servants entrance,’ Mr Weasley said, leading her up the rear side of the wing and stopping before a door, which was left open. ‘Not a good idea to get on the bad side of the footmen on your first day. Especially the head footman; he’s a right killjoy about these things.’

‘Well, I am a servant, technically.’

‘I know,’ Mr Weasley said, sighing. ‘But, if I had my way, we wouldn’t have to worry about separate entrances. We’re the people who actually keep this place going, not the aristo’s using this place like a retreat for when the season ends in London.’

Hermione felt rather shocked at Mr Weasley’s words, but she opted not to say anything. She could certainly understand his frustration, but she had never met someone who was so open about it.

‘The gentry often have friends and relatives down from London, then?’

‘Yes, but you probably won’t have to worry about them,’ Mr Weasley said, encouragingly. ‘They tend to stay away from the children if they can help it. This time of year, most of them are living the high life in London society; they shouldn’t be arriving here for another couple months.’

‘Well, I lived in London most of my life, but I already rather like it here in Devon.’

The redhead turned to look at her.

‘Really? Why?’

‘Well, judging from what I’ve seen so far, it’s quieter, for one thing. The pace of life in the city is far too extreme. Out here, you can hear the birds in the trees, see the bees in the hedgerows, smell the…’

‘Muck on the fields?’

Hermione laughed.

‘You’re very amusing, Mr Weasley.’

‘I try,’ the redhead said, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled. ‘Not very often I get the opportunity to make a woman laugh without making a prat of myself first.’

‘Oh, I-I’m sure all the local girls adore you.’

‘With five older brothers? I barely get a look in,’ Mr Weasley chuckled, his ears going a little pink. ‘But, thank you, miss.’

‘My… my pleasure, Mr Weasley.’

‘Mr Weasley, I trust you haven’t been frightening the new governess.’

A man had stepped out from the servants entrance. Judging by his dress, he was a footman of some description. His hair was surprisingly greasy, and he had a long, hooked nose. His voice gave an indication that he had taken elocution lessons to disguise a midlands accent.

‘Oh, no, sir!’ Hermione exclaimed, as the two of them deposited her bags near the door. ‘Mr Weasley came to my assistance when my hat blew astray on the front drive.’

Mr Weasley grinned at the footman.

‘Wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t do so, sir.’

‘Mr Weasley… you are not a gentleman, and never will be. You are a commoner, and you would do well to remember it,’ the footman said, looking unkindly up at Ron over his long hooked nose. ‘Now, Miss Granger, if you would accompany me this way…’

As Hermione followed the footman, she happened to look back over her shoulder. Mr Weasley caught her eye, and mouthed “what an oily-haired git, eh?”. Hermione bit down on her lower lip to stop herself laughing.

 *

 On reflection, Hermione was rather embarrassed that she’d been so nervous about her first meeting with her employers. The lord of the manor seemed disinterested the entire time, while his wife asked a few questions about Hermione’s teaching qualification. In fact, Hermione spent most of the meeting nodding politely while the lady discussed the difficulty in finding a good governess in the local area, and that they appreciated that Hermione had come such a long way.

She was then escorted by the head footman back to the servants entrance, all the while wondering if all lords and ladies were so… underwhelming as people.

‘Thank you, but where should I-’

But the footman had already walked away.

Hermione looked around, her nerves building again. She didn’t know her way around, and she hadn’t even been told where her lodgings would be. Maybe she should-

‘All finished?’

Mr Weasley had poked his head through the door.

‘Y-yes,’ Hermione said. ‘But… well, where should I put all my…’

‘Oh, I’ll help you,’ Mr Weasley replied, cheerfully. ‘I can’t go into the women’s quarters, but I can let the scullery maids know that you’ve arrived.’

Turning, he knocked on a door.

‘Parvati? Lavender? The new governess is here; can you help her move her things into the women’s dormitory?’

There was a loud squeal from inside the room.

Rolling his eyes, Mr Weasley opened the door, and poked his head around it.

‘Oy; are you two finished?’

A few moments later, two women appeared from behind the door. Both of them dressed in the same simple uniform, and both roughly the same age as Hermione. They also both seemed to be very giggly.

‘Hello, Miss Granger!’ said one of them, who seemed to be of Indian descent. ‘Nice to meet you; I’m Parvati, and this is Lavender.’

Lavender, a girl with blonde hair that was pulled up under her bonnet, smiled.

‘Sorry we couldn’t meet you at the gates,’ Parvati said. ‘Me and Lav got a bit… distracted.’

There was a snicker from Mr Weasley. Lavender laughed, and slapped him playfully on the arm.

‘Anyway,’ Parvati continued, and Hermione was confused as to why the girl’s face had flushed at Mr Weasley’s comment. ‘We’ll help you take your bags up to the dorm.’

‘I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble-’

‘Oh, it’s no trouble,’ Lavender said. ‘Besides, we never get to talk to anyone from London; do you know what the most recent styles are?’

‘Er…’ Hermione trailed off, as the two girls hurried along the corridor. She was about to follow, when she realised that the tall redhead was still there. She turned to face him again.

‘Thank you for all your help, Mr Weasley,’ Hermione said, giving a quick curtsy. ‘I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.’

‘As am I to make yours, Miss Granger,’ the redhead replied, his freckled cheeks dimpling once again. ‘Although, like I say, “Ron” is fine. There’s half a dozen Mr Weasleys here, so it just saves time.’

‘In that case, I will call you that,… Ron.’

The redhead grinned, before leaving to run across the wild grass nearby in the direction of the stables. The shirt Ron was wearing was, indeed, rather tight on him, and Hermione couldn’t help but notice how his muscles strained against the fabric as he ran, the sunlight reflecting beautifully off his red hair.

Hermione smiled, as she turned to follow Parvati and Lavender along the corridor. Ottery St Catchpole was shaping up to be a rather wonderful place to live.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked it! If you want to keep up-to-date with the series, please subscribe on AO3 or FFN, or ask me to add you to the tag list on Tumblr.

[dreaming-twist]

THAT'S NOT FAIR!

I wrote something self-indulgent for myself ~

Note: "(Y/n)" has her/she pronouns. And sorry if the translator changed any pronoun, I re-read it already but if something's left I'll correct it later!

At NRC, there weren't many opportunities for an entire course to come together in one class, but this was one of those days when it did. Professor Vargas had told all his students something about how observing other people, apart from classmates, could awaken in each one a feeling of improvement and rivalry that would make them try harder everyday. And having said that, he gathered all the first-year classes in the schoolyard, so that each of the students could do the sport that they most wanted.

Ace, Deuce and (Y/n) –who was carring Grim– walked around looking sideways in search of their friends, and after a few seconds they saw Jack's hand, calling for them above all the student heads around. The four of them made room to pass netween their classmates, and found Jack and Epel there.

"Hey ~" Ace greeted, raising his hand. Deuce and Epel bumpled their fists, and Jack smiled. "Well, I'll be brief: Basketball"

"You're making up your own mind, Ace" Grim said reluctantly.

"You know, there are two people here from the athletic club, if we were to pick something by majority we would win" Deuce commented casually, glancing at Jack.

Ace mockingly mimicked him, then put his arms behind his head.

"What do you want to play then?"

"Anything, I only want to start moving NOW" said Epel, who had already begun to stretch.

"Same here" Jack said, folding his arms. "I just want something to keep me going."

"Well, then it's decided!" Ace turned away, before Deuce could say anything to him. "I'm going for a ba—!"

"I THINK that what Professor Vargas wants is for us to try new experiences."

"UWAH!" Ace was startled to see someone cutting him off, which he almost bumped in. "SEBEK!? Since WHEN were you there!?"

Sebek arched an eyebrow, not changing his expression too much.

"I have listened to your conversation from the very beginning, human. If that's what you mean."

"... Well, now that we are 7 at least we can play 3 VS 3."

"... Huh? But if we were 6 before, right?";(Y/n) said, counting.

"Ah— did you count Grim? 'Cause I didn't"

"HEY, ACE! I'M GONNA TO HIT YOU, YOU SEE!" Grim yelled at him angrily as Ace held up his tongue.

"AS I WAS SAYING," Sebek began, walking a few more steps to the other boys, "I think trying something that no one practices on a regular basis would be a much more enriching experience for everyone."

Ace narrowed his eyes at him, though Sebek didn't seem to have noticed him. Deuce put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Sounds like a good option to me, actually" he said, glancing at (Y/n) and Grim, who nodded. Jack seemed to be listening intently, and Epel's eyes were fixed on Sebek, since he wanted to get started as soon as possible. "Do you have any suggestions, Sebek?"

"Hmpf. Of course I do" he said, smiling, and then headed straight for a bench.

They all looked at each other without understanding anything, and followed him. Sebek ended up sitting up and putting his elbow on the table, and when everyone saw him smile proudly they knew what it was about.

"Arm wrestling? Like, seriously?" Ace asked, looking bored. He sought support from the others, looking at them, but he was surprised to see everyone really wanting to get started.

"Do you think you can beat me?" Jack asked confidently. "I was competing against Leona-senpai some days ago."

"Impressive, but yes: I think I can win. Do not underestimate the bodyguard of the great Malleus Draconia."

Jack smiled and sat down at the table, and they both put their hands together for a second after they started. They were both too strong, so they just smiled while straining.

Epel was looking at them with super bright eyes, and then he turned to Deuce, clenching his fists tightly.

"DEUCE! We are next! I'm not losing to you!"

Deuce looked at him in surprise, but then his grimace changed to a crooked smile as he collided with one of his fists against his other hand.

"I'm going to do everything I can to win you over, huh?" He said, and Epel was quick to nod and sit up to go against him.

They both put their elbows on the table and clasped their hands, and on the count of three they started. From the start Deuce seemed to have the upper hand, but Epel didn't give up on the first try, keeping his arm up for a long time. Deuce knew that if he used as much force as in his past days, he could win, but he was no longer like that, so he gave his all without going to extremes that were not going to be good for him or for his opponent. But still, he was struggling. And that made him feel proud of his friend, who seemed to be getting stronger every day through training and perseverance.

"Epel, your training seems to be paying off" Deuce said, smiling, though his tone darkened a bit afterward. "But I'm not going to let you beat me."

"HA!" said Epel, cocky. "We both train very hard, but there is something that I have and you don't ~"

Deuce arched an eyebrow not knowing what his opponent was planning on him... until he fixed his eyes on him: Epel was looking at him with the brightest and most adorable eyes he'd ever seen.

"Huuum, Deuce-kun, you're too strong ... I'm not going to be able to beat you ... ~"

Deuce shuddered when he heard that high-pitched tone of voice suddenly, which made Epel suddenly use more force and knock down Deuce's arm, thus winning the game. Epel stood up with a jump, returning to his normal voice again.

"TAKE THAT, YOU LOSER! WOOOOOOO!"

Deuce blinked a few times, unaware of what had just happened. But as he recovered, he snapped his eyes open and pointed at Epel, embarrassed.

"EPEL! THAT'S NOT FAIR!

"What's not fair?" Epel asked, pretending to be oblivious, but without losing his smile.

"Deuce... You have to lose that irrational fear you have of women... Or well, of everything just a little femenine, ya know" Ace said, sighing.

"It's not irrational! EPEL! I DEMAND ANOTHER MATCH!"

"Eeeeeh...?"

Ace, Grim and (Y/n) stood watching them argue a bit, not saying anything ... until Ace and (Y/n) ended up looking sideways. And Ace then showed a mocking smile.

"... Weeeell, (Y/n)... Do you want me to crush you?~"

"You speak very confidently for being the weaklest guy in the basketball club, Ace" Grim said quickly, to which (Y/n) gave a small laugh.

"WEAKL...! All right, Grim, you against me! But if you end up crying don't blame me, huh"

"Whatever, I'm gonna win you over."

Ace sat down at the table and Grim jumped on top of it. They both put their arms in position and on the count of three, they started the match... which ended just as quickly.

"... Wait, WHAT!?" That scream sounded so loud that other students turned to look his way. "THAT'S NOT FAIR! (Y/N)! WHY HAVE YOU HELPED HIM!?"

"Hum? What are you talking about?" (Y/n) asked innocently, whose hand was on Grim's paw, and both of them had managed to knock Ace down in no time.

"HEY, DON'T PLAY FOOL!"

"Tch, tch, tch ... Ace, my minion and I are one student. If you are looking for a fight with me, you are looking for it with her. This is how things are ~"

Meanwhile, Sebek and Jack continued to compete. Neither of them seemed to want to give in and be the last loser of the day.

"Aren't you tired yet, Sebek?"

"Not at all. I am totally focused on our match."

"Heh. I supposed it. Although it seems that the others have already finished. We should finish soon.”

"HA! That those humans and that magic monster are not as good as us is none of our business."

"... You're right, I just have to beat you."

That made everyone turn their heads towards the two of them, especially Ace and Deuce, the losers from the previous rounds. The two of them frowned at being treated like that, looked at each other, and ended up reading each other's minds. Epel, Grim and (Y/n) could feel how they weren't planning anything good... even though they couldn't say anything about it. Ace and Deuce took a breath then, and...

"M-M-MALLEUS-SENPAI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

"KINGSCHOLAR-SENPAI! HAVE YOU COME TO WATCH JACK'S MATCH?"

And then, Sebek and Jack reacted at the same time, getting up from the place very upright, turning to see their superiors ...

"WAKA-SAMA, IT'S AN HONOR—!"

"LEONA-SENPAI, I WAS—"

... Only to realize that they were nowhere to be found.

"WOW, Sebek, looks like you've lost, huh? ~"

"Now we're in the same boat, Jack ~"

The two of them were stunned to realize that they had given up at the same time, and thus, they had both lost.

"Good work, Deuce-kun ~

"Same there, Ace-kun ~

Ace and Deuce bumpled fists, grinning. When they weren't arguing, the truth was that they made a great team. Although...

"... Uh... You two... I don't think it's time to celebrate."

They both turned to Grim and could see Sebek and Jack getting dangerously close to them, stretching their arms and clenching their fists.

"Time to show them who the losers are"

"I was going to say the exact same thing"

Epel, Grim, and (Y/n) stood, watching the chase live... until Epel finally said something.

"Well... do you want to take one more?"

"Of course! This is the one to see who wins!" Grim said, jumping back onto the table.

"No cheating this time, okay? We will play as it should from the beginning" (Y/n) said him, laughing, and placing her hand on Grim's paw.

Epel smiled and joined them, getting ready.

"OK! So... AT THE COUNT OF THREE...!"

[ayanna-wild]

Devil Don't Go

Word Count: 1679

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, violence, sad fluff, fluff, mentions of drowning, near death experiences

A/N: Request from Wattpad

Summary: This case should have been open and shut, it wasn’t supposed to go this way.

..................................................................................

Your world was spinning, well more accurately you were spinning, in a chair at the LAPD. To be even more accurate Lucifer was spinning you. The case you had agreed to help Chloe with had hit a snag, and every lead you thought you had was coming up a dead end. Which is why you were sitting in a chair, letting your devilish companion lazily twirl you around.

"I still say the manager of the victim's store seemed rather suspicious, are you sure we can't question him again?"

You hung your head back staring at the ceiling, thankful he wasn't spinning you fast enough to make you dizzy.

"He lawyered up, besides he had an alibi."

Lucifer huffed, clearly bored with how slow this case was moving.

"Oh yes, he was with his lover, was it? People lie darling."

You shrugged, placing your feet on the ground to stop yourself from spinning as you turned to look at him. Lucifer smiled when your eyes landed on him, and the corners of your mouth twitched up.

You and Lucifer had grown close since your transfer to the LAPD, and you found yourself helping Chloe on cases she could have solved easily herself. If she noticed she hadn't said a thing, you suspected it was Lucifer who convinced her to ask for your assistance.

This case however, they really did need help on.

"Why do you think they're lying?"

"He barely remembered their name, and his so called significant other, took far to long to recall him." Lucifer reasoned.

You frowned a little, unable to refute his logic, you leaned back in the chair.

"Well...you're right..."

"Of course I am, now put your feet back up, unfortunately this is the most interesting thing I've done today."

Before the two of you could continue your pointless entertainment, Chloe rushed over to her desk, grabbing her car keys. Both you and Lucifer perked up.

"What's got you in such a rush Detective?"

"Ella found us a lead, it might not pan out, but we should still check into it."

You jumped to your feet, grabbing your own keys from Lucifer's hand, who'd been carelessly tossing them back and forth with you earlier.

"I'll follow you."

"Allow me to accompany you." Lucifer beamed.

You raised an eyebrow as you headed for the exit.

"I don't let him press the buttons." Chloe explained.

After the fourth or fifth time of him turning on the siren to frighten unsuspecting civilians you forbade him touching anything as well. He muttered under his breath the rest of the drive.

~

You'd never understood the appeal decrepit buildings had in the criminal world of LA, but here you were.

"Couldn't they ever choose a nice little café, or someplace not run by rats?" You mumbled to yourself, stepping over what you hoped was an oil stain.

Leaky pipes and moldy smells filled the air as you careful walked along the walls, gun ready and senses on high alert. Your suspect, who had in fact turned out to be the manager, had opened fire as soon as the three of you walked through the door. It forced you away from Chloe and Lucifer, who you were now trying to find.

The platform you were walking on creaked behind you, and you whirled around, gun raised. Chloe froze, raising her hands, and you let out a sigh.

"Find anything?"

She shook her head, and you placed your gun back in its holster.

"Where's Lucifer?"

Her question chilled you to the core, and you stared at her in confusion. Your voice caught as you spoke.

"I thought he was with you..."

~

You refused to leave your desk, or even take any breaks as you searched through file after file. Called anyone even remotely related to your suspect. Lucifer had been with Chloe, he'd been vulnerable, he could be hurt, or worse.

You shook your head, that line of thinking wasn't going to do anything but make you panic.

A heavy, frustrated sigh left your lips, and you leaned forward, resting your head in your hands on the desk in front of you. Your eyes strained from hours of reading.

"I found something!"

You whipped your head around so fast it almost hurt your neck. Ella ran in, waving a paper around wildly. You and Chloe quickly crowded her and Ella explained everything.

"Okay, so I called around, you know places he frequents, old jobs things like that. There's an old swim center he used to run, a few workers there say he still comes by after hours to do laps."

"What does this have to do with finding Lucifer?" Chloe asked.

"Well I just off the phone with an employee who works there. Mr. Manager man is there now."

~

You couldn't drive fast enough, flying through red lights and recklessly taking turns. Chloe held onto the dash, shouting out warnings now and then, but she never told you to slow down. She was just as eager as you to find the king of hell.

"Y/N! We need a plan!"

You almost forgot to put the car into park before you got out. Chloe followed after you, calling for you to slow down, but you ignored her. The doors to the pool slammed open when you kicked them, smacking the wall just in time to see the murderous manager shove Lucifer, who was unconscious and tied to a chair, into the pool.

You screamed his name, dropping your gun as you dived into the pool without a second thought. You spotted Chloe running after the suspect just seconds before you hit the water.

The pool was so deep, and the chlorine burned your eyes as you swam towards Lucifer. You didn't know how you were holding your breath this long, but you weren’t really focusing on that. You struggled to untie the ropes around him, but your lungs were beginning to burn.

He's been down there for too long already, you were down there too long, your head growing light.

With no other choice but to surface, you took a large breath before diving under the water again. It wasn't enough time to really catch your breath and your chest tightened, but you finally loosened the ropes. You thanked the adrenaline rushing through your veins that you were able to pull him to the surface and out of the pool.

Violent coughs shook your body as you struggled to breathe again. You were light-headed, but you needed to focus, you had to check on him. Turning your attention to Lucifer you rolled him onto his back checking the injury to his bloody temple, it was sallow nothing to serious, and then you checked his pulse.

Only... there was no pulse.

"No no no...."

You got to your knees, placing your hands in the center of his chest as you began to push fast. You went back and forth between pressing on his chest to blowing breath into his lungs. You weren’t sure how long you kept this up, but you really didn't care to keep track of time right now.

"Come on...Lucifer, please..."

Tears clouded your vision and your arms gave out, you collapsed against his chest, checking his pulse once more, but there was nothing.

"Damn it wake up!" You slammed your fists down on his chest. Your tears ran down your face mixing with the pool water still clinging to your skin, but he didn’t move.

"You promised we'd go out for lunch tomorrow, and you always keep your promises, right?"

You brushed his wet hair from his face as your hands shook.

"So you have to wake up." Your voice broke, and you pressed your forehead against his, crying freely.

"Please don't go."

You almost slammed your head against his when his body suddenly jerked, and he sat up. You jumped back staring at him with wide eyes as he coughed out water from his lungs. He wheezed a moment clutching his chest, before looking around until his eyes landed on you. He gave you a tired smile and a weak chuckle.

"Well that was a wonderfully terrible visit to Hell."

With that joke your worry evaporated, and you fell back against the wall behind you. You ran a hair through your damp hair, and you laughed through your tears.

"You're alive..."

Lucifer looked at you curiously, and he moved closer to you.

"Darling are you alright? Why are you crying?"

He let out a surprised grunt when you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You were dead you idiot, of course I'm crying."

"But I'm not dead now..."

You huffed, shaking your head as you tightened your hold around him.

"You're missing the point." You spoke lightly.

Lucifer carefully held you, frowning a little when he felt your body trembling.

"You're shaking." He pointed out softly.

"Just cold from the water." You lied.

You smiled, nestling closer to him, you needed to feel his heartbeat his breath on your skin. You pulled back to hold his face in your hands, eyeing the cut on his temple.

"You're bleeding a little still..." You muttered.

He grabbed your hand as your fingers ghosted over the wound. He smiled squeezing your hand a little.

"I imagine my situation would be much worse if not for you."

He smiled, and you slowly realized you were sitting in his lap. You cleared your throat, shifting to move off him, and he sent you a wink.

"Anyway, I'm really happy you're okay."

Lucifer's expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Well I couldn't very well stay dead now could I? A promise is a promise."

You looked at him surprised.

"You heard that?"

He chuckled, moving a wet strand of hair away from your eyes.

"It was hard not to, you were practically praying to me."

You rolled your eyes, but you still couldn't help the smile that stretched across your face.

"Just promise you won't go dying on me again."

"I'll try my very best darling." He chuckled.

..................................................................................

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