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chaotic-super · 1 year

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Back To Krypton - Chapter 25

Read Back To Krypton on Ao3 here!

To say that the group is surprised when morning comes and there’s an empty spot where Kara and Lena’s tent used to be is an understatement.

There’s a panic set between them that they can’t shake, afraid that something terrible has happened to them, the main theory being that the Kryptonians they saw before had stumbled upon them and taken them somewhere, similar to how they got taken by The Rebellion.

That fear goes away when they find the note though, the one Lena wrote out in her very careful swoopy handwriting to tell them that they had gone on a side mission and to stay put because they will be back in a few hours, a day at most if they can help it.

That doesn’t mean that Alex isn’t trapped in an endless cycle of pacing, something Nia isn’t even contemplating, spending her now free time to rest, sleeping in and simply lying on her mattress with a book open, her eyes lazing over the words throughout the day.

If Kara and Lena could see the relaxing day that Nia’s now having in their absence, they would be immeasurably jealous because they have been up pretty much the whole night wandering around trying to find the camp of the environmentalists.

It’s kind of funny that they thought that they might accidentally run into them a second time because their camp is so far away from where they do actually end up finding them, almost a four-hour walk away at that.

“Look, I can see a campfire.” Kara points through the trees to where there is a soft glow peeking out between the trunks.

Lena waits until they make eye contact to nod at Kara to let her know that she sees what Kara is pointing at, too nervous to say anything right now since they haven’t yet figured out where the people are, afraid that they will be overheard.

They make a large loop around the outskirts of the camp they find closer to the fire, finding a small group of them, six to be exact. They know that because across a branch is six jackets hung up like they are on a coat rack, each with a crest over their left breast pocket.

The fire is barely more than embers, left to do as it will overnight with nothing more than a single thick log atop of it to keep it going for as long as they can force it to overnight without any attention so they can all sleep in their pods.

Yes, pods. There are six pods lined up, three on one side and three opposite those. They are all facing inward towards the fire and are perfectly aligned.

Even Kara has never seen anything like it, but that’s not saying too much since she was so young when she left Krypton and these pods are quite clearly suited to these environmentalists.

Each pod is short, only a meter tall, and about a meter wide too, although they are pretty long, almost seven feet, pretty much just a sleeping pod. In fact, exactly a sleeping pod. The pack of each person is to the left of the entrances of the pods, each one opening upwards, made of some kind of plastic material that seems to be pretty durable and strong, rigid in a way an ordinary tent is not. It’s intriguing.

“I think they must all be in their pod, I don’t know if they are asleep or not though so we have to be quiet,” Kara whispers over to Lena, her hand unconsciously gripping onto the edge of Lena’s shirt to keep her close.

“Where are the H’Rakas?” Lena answers back, creeping slightly closer to the pods. “Shouldn’t they be here?”

Kara shakes her head. “They are pretty but they can be smelly and they produce a lot of waste, they will be close by but away from the camp because of that, I’m sure of it.”

“Ok, let’s go find them then,” Lena says, turning away from the camp to make a bigger circle around the area.

The H’Rakas aren’t in the area they already circled, they would have seen them but they could be a little ways away, it’s hard to know the general practice for keeping creatures like these around.

They widen their search area, trying to tread as carefully as they can as to not alert the other Kryptonians of their arrival into their neck of the woods, the last thing they need is to be discovered.

Kara takes the lead, flitting around and keeping her eyes peeled and her ears straining to hear any sound that could give away the location of the H’Rakas.

It’s freezing out here at night. Lena can barely feel her fingers anymore and wishes she could lace them with Kara’s to try and get some feeling back into them but she doesn’t want to slow her down either so instead she just stuffs them as far into her pockets as she can manage, pressing her palms onto her legs, only the material of her pants separating them.

Sneaking around with their own packs on their backs is difficult but they don’t know how long they are going to be before they get back to camp and they will need their tent if they are going to be out here for longer than they bargained for.

“Kara?” Lena whispers into the sharp night air when a strange noise makes its way into her ears.

Kara spins around in lieu of an answer, looking over at her with a questioning glance.

“Listen, I can hear something.”

Kara tucks her hair behind her ear as she listens out, closing her eyes as she tips her head up to the sky, listening past the breeze rustling the trees around them. In the distance she hears it, the same thing Lena could hear before, the sound of deep, heavy-set breathing, the kind of breathing that could only come from a massive beast of a creature. “I think that’s them, let’s go.”

They still have to wander a little bit to find the H’Rakas, the sound isn’t loud enough for them to be able to figure out exactly which direction it’s coming from until they are closer, but they do get closer.

The noises that they originally thought were breathing becomes clearer and the closer they creep, the more they realize that it’s actually snorting. A breathy noise that is unnerving in a way they can’t place.

There are six of them, one for each of the environmentalists. The good thing about H’Rakas is that they are strong. They can easily carry two or three people and yet here these guys are with one each, they must have been carrying some heavy equipment or something to have one each. Kara doesn’t really care about that though. What she does care about is that there are six here and they only need to take two. They can easily manage with two and there will still be four left for the other Kryptonians.

Lena watches Kara slowly ease her way through the trees towards them. She stays further back, keeping hold of both her pack and Kara’s, giving her girlfriend more stealth to get to the beasts.

They may be a little ways away from the cam but they are still in hearing range of them and if the environmentalists get woken up and alerted of their presence then they will only have a few minutes to make themselves scarce before they are over here and their plan is foiled.

She watches with bated breath as Kara creeps towards them, all six of them are looped to a few trees by ropes tied into a harness around their heads and necks, keeping them from escaping without cutting into their flesh.

Kara walks right up to them, going for their fronts so as not to startle them and holding a single hand out in front of her as she edges closer to them, her nerves obvious in her movements.

The mighty beasts rear back slightly, their massive front feet coming off the ground a little before stomping back down, giving Kara a warning to stay back.

She listens, freezing in her spot, not backing away, just staying completely still, giving the H’Rakas chance to get used to her before she tries to head towards them for a second time, not wanting to upset them any more than she has to.

They still have a few hours left until sunrise, they can take a few minutes to earn the trust of the H’Rakas before they steal them, or at least Kara can. Lena is not getting anywhere near those things until she absolutely has to. It’s probably better for Kara to be the one trying to retrieve them anyway since she’s more familiar with them.

Kara waits. She watches the animals with a keen eye, waiting for a slight slouch of their backs before inching closer, stopping again when they become unsettled.

She goes through this process a few times until she is standing right beside them and tentatively running her fingertips along the top of one’s head. “Hey there, big guy.” She murmurs to it, lips quirking up at the chance to be this close to something so magnificent. “Aren’t you a handsome fella? Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”

“Kara!” Lena’s voice whisper shouts from the treeline. “Hurry up, it’s not a dog.”

Straightening her jacket, Kara gets to work on the ropes, untying them from the tree. The knots are tight and she struggles to get them to give way but with a little bit of twisting and tugging, they slowly start coming loose.

The rope is thick and the pressure of it against the freezing skin of her fingertips is unpleasant and as she tugs at it, her knuckles press uncomfortably against the bark of the tree, sometimes catching the skin to the point where she’s probably going to have graze marks there.

One is undone, she has it loose and all she has to do is lead it away slowly. She thinks about taking it to Lena before coming back but she doesn’t want to have to earn the trust of the other one again if she leaves, it could add several minutes onto their side mission and Kara is sure that Lena’s anxiety is just as bad as her own right now.

Instead, she gently ties the rope of the freed H’Raka around her waist. She doesn’t think it will move away since it hasn’t once tried to escape from where it was tied to the tree but it’s just a precaution.

With the first one freed and under her control, she moves on to the second one, the one right beside it. She has to gently coax the first one to follow her a couple of steps but it eagerly follows the tugging of the rope, utterly unbothered by her moving it.

Kara’s fingers find the second rope easily and she begins working on it right away. Her head coming up to check her surroundings every few seconds, her nerves frazzled with the pressure. She meets Lena’s eyes from time to time as she does this and she can see the fear in the green orbs looking back at her.

She’s almost got it, the rope is almost loose when it happens, something spooks the H’Rakas, namely, the one she has already freed.

It starts tugging at her, trying to move away into the trees and away from whatever it is that it’s scared of.

Kara fights against the growing pressure around her waist, her hands moving from trying to undo the rope of the second H’Raka to grab onto the rope between herself and the first, tugging on it to try and tame the beast that is now rearing up again, this time with its eyes glued onto the treeline at a ninety-degree angle to where Lena is standing by.

Both Kara and Lena find their eyes drawn to the spot, searching through the darkness to find whatever it is that has the H’Rakas going crazy.

A snap of a twig, maybe a branch.

Purple, unyielding eyes peer out from behind a bush, watching with rapt attention and unblinking as they keep their focus trained on the H’Rakas, making prey of the animals.

Whatever creature goes after huge dragon-like animals, Kara does not want to meet and she does not want to be in the crosshairs of them fighting.

This is not a battle she’s willing to fight.

She does the only thing she can think of; leaping up onto the back of the H’Raka she’s tied to, she grips onto its sides with her knees and pulls up, prompting it to go, letting it pick up the pace and start running.

She grabs hold of the harness around its neck and uses it to guide it towards Lena, holding a hand out when she’s on her way past her, wordlessly telling her to grab on and jump on behind her because they are leaving now.

Lena makes the jump look easy, probably a mixture of adrenaline and fear making her into a sudden Olympic-level athlete. Even with two packs, one hanging from each arm, Lena manages to land centred behind Kara, her arms coming up to grip around her waist.

“Ooh, good jump.” Kara can’t help but comment, even though the terrifying situation they’re in.

From behind them, they hear what can only be described as a shriek followed by a roar. Both sound familiar and yet not so, identifiable in a way that they know that the shriek is from the tied-up H’Rakas and the roar from whatever the purple-eyed creature is.

“Kara, make this thing go faster.” Lena screeches into the back of Kara’s neck, clinging onto her waist for all she’s worth.

If the awful noises from behind them weren’t enough, the overwhelming noise of shouts fill the air, Kryptonian words being yelled out somewhere behind them.

Due to the low-hanging branches and the speed at which the H’Raka is running, they are forced to look forward, to watch out for when they have to duck and press themselves as far down as they can or to lean in time with the mighty beast so they don’t slow down a turn and send them all careering into a tree.

There’s no time to look behind them to see if they have been spotted, no time to keep an eye out for anything other than themselves.

The shouting and screeching continues behind them and they just have to keep going, keep praying that the one H’Raka they have managed to obtain can get them out of there.

There are too many trees. They can’t take flight here, they wouldn’t make it through the branches, the H’Raka knows it too, it knows its limits and that’s a hard one, it can’t make it through there so why bother trying, instead, it’s just running, taking them far off in a direction that Kara and Lena can’t even fathom.

Neither of them knows where they are going but while they can still hear noises behind them, there’s no point in them stopping, not that they know how to actually properly ride this animal in the first place. They really should have thought this through better.

The H’Raka just keeps going and going, all the while the noise behind them gets quieter and quieter the further away they get, giving them the impression that just maybe, they are actually getting away from everything that happened.

Lena loosens her grip on Kara marginally as they slow down to a trot instead of a full-on sprint. “Do you think we lost whatever that thing was?”

“I don’t know but this little fella seems to think we’re safe enough that we can slow down so I’d say we’re alright for the minute.” Kara turns her head to the side, looking at Lena from the corner of her eye.

“What are we going to do? We need two.”

“One is better than nothing.” Kara answers, not sure where they go from here now, their plan can’t work with only one. “We will have to wait until we get to a clearing before we can take off and then we’ll be able to see what’s going on. I just hope that the other Kryptonians aren’t flying their H’Rakas looking for this one.”

Lena sighs, slumping against Kara’s back. “I didn’t even think of that. We really need to get high up though so we can see where we are going. It’s going to be light soon too.”

“I know, let’s just –“

A roar ricochets through the trees behind them, followed closely by the thudding claws of the other H’Rakas as they gallop in their direction, steaming behind them in their desperate need to escape.

“That’s not good.” Lena has the chance to squeak out before their H’Raka takes off running again, egged on by the thunderous steps of its brothers and sisters.

They get right back to ducking and weaving, seeing the fellow H’Rakas running alongside them, all without riders, which means that none of the Kryptonians managed to keep them at the camp. This certainly explains why it’s so normal for H’Rakas to escape from environmentalists, one predator comes along and the H’Rakas, while usually mild-tempered, become so frightful that they break free and run.

The problem is that the predator is running after them.

Clinging onto Kara, Lena dares to look back, taking Kara’s cues to duck and lean while her eyes search the brush they are galloping through, her gaze sweeping in search of those purple eyes they saw before, the ones that hold nothing but pure bloodlust.

There’s nothing there that she can see, but looking to the sides of them, she can see five other H’Rakas, all charging in the same direction, dead focused on their route out of the way of the predator, the one she can’t see, the one that she’s afraid of anyway.

It’s in her fascination with the other creatures alongside them that she misses Kara’s cue to duck, failing to do so and hitting a branch. Her grip on Kara’s jacket isn’t enough and her fingers slip free of the fabric.

The force of the blow sends her flying off the back and before she knows it, Lena is lying flat on the ground with the two packs atop of her, the wind completely knocked out of her lungs, leaving her wheezing to try and breathe again.

In the rush of what happened and the unexpected jolt, she takes a few fleeting moments to come to her senses, realizing that she’s now been left behind when there’s some killer animal chasing after them, probably hiding in the bushes somewhere, ready to strike.

She only has one real weapon on her to try and protect her but by Rao is it a good one.

Hands shaking with panic, she digs into the pack she quickly identifies as her own, hand gripping the item she has stored standing vertically in its sheath along the right-hand side.

Her long fingers circle around the handle and within seconds, she has the sword free, the metal glinting in the moonlight as she spins around, searching for any hint of either Kara finding a way to turn the H’Raka around, or the beast following them…and there it is.

She faces those eyes, they’re watching her.

Lena holds the sword up, the tip facing towards it so that if it rushes forward, it’s going to impale itself.

They stare down for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, Lena barely daring to blink, before it does take a step forward, not a large one, just enough for it to step out of the bushes, exposing itself to her so she can finally get a good look at what she’s facing off with.

Oh shit.

The sword probably isn’t going to be all that helpful because the creature is basically a kangaroo on steroids, it’s so big that she’s not even sure she’ll be able to get close enough to it to hit it.

Its legs are easily a couple of metres long and as she looks at it, it rears up to its full height, more than doubling her own. It’s covered in feathers, greens and browns that help it to blend into its surroundings, its only giveaway is its eyes.

Its face is huge, a muzzle with massive sharp teeth bared at her in a menacing way that sends ice through her veins.

This might genuinely be the day she dies.

She keeps the sword pointed at it and gulps, her fight or flight mode kicking into gear as it begins to lean down, bringing those teeth closer.

In the question of fight or flight, there is only one prevailing answer for a Luthor and it’s obvious. Lena takes a great swing at it, a powerful yell bubbling up from her chest as the sword takes its first swipe through the air.

It stumbles back out of the way of her but she’s not done. A second swipe with another yell and it’s backing up more but it doesn’t last, its head swooping down and teeth chomping towards her.

She flicks the sword up, all of her fencing lessons as a teenager coming back to her as it flicks across the jacked-up kangaroo’s face.

A thin line of yellow blood seeps out from the gash and it lets out a yelp, high-pitched and loud.

Lena takes advantage of its current distraction, bringing the hilt of the sword down onto the back of its head while it is lowered close to the ground, sending it sprawled down against the dirt and tree roots, disorientated.

Now it’s time for flight.

Grabbing the two packs and slinging them over her shoulders, Lena breaks out into a run, practically flying with how fast she’s running, the adrenaline gushing through her body in a way that if Lena didn’t know better, she’d think it had all pooled in her legs because she’s not just running, she’s running.

She doesn’t stop to look back, just focuses on putting one foot in front of the other and lets the packs clank against her back with each step, the handle of the sword growing sweaty in her palm but she’s not letting it slip, not when she might need it.

Realistically, she knows that she’s not going to be able to outrun this thing for long, by the size of its legs she knows it’s way faster than her.

The average kangaroo on Earth can run at speeds up to thirty-five miles per hour so it’s safe to bet that it would be even higher for this creature and the only thing stopping it is the high density of the trees. It hasn’t had a straight run and because it’s so large, it can’t manoeuvre around the trees as well as the H’Rakas could, that’s how they all escaped.

She keeps going even when she can barely breathe and all of her muscles are begging for her to stop. Lena is in the best shape of her life from the vast amount of walking she’s been doing but she cannot run for a long period of time, not at all. She could walk this with ease but running is a no-go.

Her eyes become unfocused for a second, her mind whizzing to find a way out that doesn’t include more running.

Lena begins to think of maybe finding a place to hide, somewhere small where the oversized kangaroo-bird-thing can’t get to her and so she looks to her sides, trying to find somewhere, maybe somewhere more densely wooded or somewhere she can force herself between the exposed roots of trees like she’s seen in the terrible movies she only watched for Kara’s sake at their old movie nights.

She spends too much time looking around her and for the second time in a very short span, she wishes she’d kept her eyes forward because one second the floor is beneath her feet and then next she’s falling and not just to the ground.

She’s falling down.

Lena just ran off the edge of a cliff by accident.

Oh shit.

We're up to chapter 30 on Patreon if you want to come and read ahead! The latest chapters are bangers if I do say so myself.

#cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supergirl #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #kara leaned in #kara x lena #kara danvers #kara zor el #lena luthor #fanfiction #fanfic #wlw #back to krypton #chaoticsuper

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avirael · 10 months

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FFxivWrite 2023

Day 04 - Off the Hook

"Seven Hells, this can‘t be true!!"

Rael‘s angry voice could be heard all the way from the garden, through the living room and into the kitchen where A'viloh sat enjoying his breakfast.

The last few weeks had been very quiet and so they had decided to spent some time at their freshly acquired and furnished house in the Mist. While A'viloh had been reading on the couch or lazing in the sun on one of his favourite spots in town, Rael had made it their passion to grow a little vegetable garden.

It all had really been very peaceful until this morning, when the Viera‘s curses almost made A'vi drop his favourite coffee mug in shock. Carefully he put it down on the table and went outside to see what the matter was. He was greeted with another string of profanities and wondered if it was safe to address Rael at all.

"Is anything wrong?", he cautiously asked the viera kneeling in front of their vegetable patches.

"IS ANYTHING WRONG?!", they echoed like a very furious parrot. "Look at this!!"

A'viloh stepped beside them to see what they were gesturing at and at first he didn’t really see a problem but then he realised that something was indeed missing. About half of the plants, that had grown very nicely thanks to Rael’s care, had been plundered. The vegetables that would have been ready for harvest any day now had been stolen without a trace.

"Oh!", A'viloh said. "They’re gone?"

"Really? I didn’t even notice!", Rael sarcastically snapped at him. "Very helpful, A'vi!"

The Miqo'te raised his hands defensively.

"Hey! This isn’t fair! It’s not like I took them!"

"But who did??", Rael growled and skeptically eyed one of their neighbours houses.

A'viloh doubted that they were to blame though. Admittedly sometimes weird things seemed to happen at their neighbours place but A'vi didn’t think that it involved vegetables. Or at least he hoped it didn’t…

"If I find out who this was, they will gravely regret this.", the Viera announced.

"But how do you want to find out?"

Rael put their hands on their hips and looked around their garden.

"I will build a trap and once these thieves take the bait I‘ll throw a fireball at their asses to teach them a lesson!"

A'viloh raised an eyebrow but decided not to protest. "Okay…"

And indeed Rael immediately started to rummage around in their garden and got some of their crafting tools too. A'viloh decided that it was best to stay out of this, finished his breakfast and then went for a walk.

When he returned a few hours later, Rael had been quite busy in the meantime. They had strung up a cage-like construction by one of the branches of the cherry tree. The wooden cage now hung right above one of the vegetable patches that still looked more or less okay. Proudly the Viera explained the mechanism to A'viloh, from the tripwire to the cage falling down and finally the alarm signal. It honestly sounded more plausible than it looked. But of course he didn’t dare to mention that.

And how wrong he would have been to doubt Rael‘s invention!

In the middle of that night A'viloh was rudely awakened by a sound so loud it probably woke up half of the residential block. For a second he considered turning around and going back to sleep but then curiosity got the better of him. So he slipped out of bed and went downstairs just in time to see his housemate rush out of the front door.

Outside the two of them found a peculiar view: The cage had indeed fallen down and trapped the vegetable thieves under it, just that said thieves were not his neighbours or anything they had expected at all. Instead they looked weirdly much like vegetables themselves!

A'viloh, who could usually see perfectly fine in the dark, felt a little blinded by the lamp Rael had lit. He squinted to make sure but he was pretty certain that the creatures caught in the trap were a small group of Mandragora! One looked like a tomato, one like an eggplant, another like an onion…

"You little monsters!", Rael growled at the terrified little things, or at least A'vi thought they looked terrified. He himself certainly would have been terrified if he was caught like that and yelled at by Rael.

"Oh no, Rael! Look at them, you’re scaring them!", he said but the Viera stayed adamant.

"Oh, they better be scared!"

The Miqo'te kneeled down by the cage and eyed the funny little creatures.

"Please, Rael, let them go. I‘m sure they didn’t mean to steal from you!"

"You think I will just let them off the hook like that? Oh no!"

Rael crossed their arms in front of their chest and shook their head but A'vi looked at them with such a pleading look on his face that it was nearly impossible to resist him.

"But they are soooo adorable! Just look at them!"

Incredulously Rael stared at the little rascals and raised their eyebrows.

"Do you see that little red one with the angry look on it’s face?"

A'viloh nodded and smiled at it.

"Isn’t it cute?"

"It looks like it would murder us in our sleep given the chance.", Rael suggested and kneeled down beside the Miqo'te.

"Nonsense! And look, there‘s one with a little flower on it’s head!"

Rael sighed deeply. With A'viloh so in love with the little monsters, how could they possibly harm them?

"But just for the record, I think letting them go is a really horrible idea!"

A'vi beamed. "You mean we should keep them?"

"Absolutely not!"

#FFxivWrite #FFxivWrite2023 #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv writing #post-ARR #Aviloh Tia #Rael Hyskaris #of course they don’t have a house in the mist for real but I can dream right?#this prompt was sooo difficult #then this morning an idea struck me in the face #some stupid slugs ate my strawberries before I could harvest them!!!#at first I was like: This means war!#but then again I don’t want to kill them…#are there any animal friendly slug repellents?

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 2 years

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5 times Arthur sees Merlin doing more and more ridiculous shit for him,

and +1 time, said shit is so ridiculous that Arthur feels the need to make him promise to let Arthur come next time.

TW: uuuh blood and gore, Nobles (including Uther) being dicks?

Arthur is having a terrible day, and it’s only noon.

First, there was the early morning council meeting, in which some posh ponce—who was demeaning to Arthur and cruel to the servants—was allowed to run rampant with no consequences because of his supposed “friendship with Uther”, who was coincidentally not attending this specific meeting. Then training, which had been nothing short of disappointing; the new recruits barely knew which end of the sword was the sharp bit, never mind the basic skills that their rich, powerful parents had promised him they’d possessed. And now, Arthur can’t find his stupid manservant.

He’s due some lunch, having chosen to skip out on breakfast this morning; he’s starving, and Merlin is no where to be found. The Prince storms into his room, startling the guards in the corridor who’d tried to bow and wish him a good afternoon, with clenched fists and grinding teeth. Merlin isn’t here either, though to be fair to the servant, Arthur had only checked the armoury before he came here; he finds himself stopping in shock, anger draining from him slightly.

He had almost been hoping to find Merlin lazing about so he had an excuse to shout and yell and throw things, but... his room has been tidied and cleaned, his desk has been reorganised so he knows what work is a priority and what can wait, his bed has been made, dirty laundry is missing, and his favoured banquet outfit has been returned from the tailor and hung over his changing screen. Merlin had... apparently, been hard at work for he last few hours.

No lunch though.

He makes his way from the room, slightly calmer than he had been moments before, though still tetchy with hunger as he decides to just go straight to the kitchens himself. If he has to get his own food because Merlin had failed to, well, that’s definitely excuse enough to yell, and that will definitely make Arthur feel better.

The Prince makes quick work of his journey down to the kitchens, but stops just outside the door, a familiar voice catching his ear:

“Please? Come on, you must have heard how terrible the new recruits were, and he looked like he was going to punch someone when Lord Arsehole started yanking George around this morning. He’s going to be a in a foul mood, so will you just do this for me?? Your tarts always make him feel better, and he’s going to need a pick-me-up before this afternoon.”

Arthur’s face pulls down into a curious little frown; from the tone of Merlin’s voice, he wouldn’t be surprised if he walked in to see the servant on his knees begging. Before he can entertain that idea, Cook answers:

“Fine, just this once, Merlin. And what’s so horrible about this afternoon?”

Merlin sighs and lets out a quiet, grateful “Gods, thank you,-” before continuing, a little louder:

“-I sorted through his desk this morning, and he’s got a mountain of paperwork to do. He always runs himself ragged with all that shit, so I figured he could do with something nice for once.”

Arthur’s anger is long forgotten, and his curious frown morphs, out of his control, into a small smile as he slowly steps closer to the door, intent on listening for as long as he can:

“Hmm. No wonder the boy likes you so much, you’re the only servant he’s ever had who actually knows what he needs, I’m sure of it.-”

There’s a short pause, in which Merlin openly snorts at Cook’s assertion, and Arthur frowns and pouts. He is not a boy, and he does not like Merlin so much. He barely tolerates him. He’s an annoyance, that’s all.

“-Now here, off with you, or he’ll be grumpy that you’re late.”

“Yes, yes, I know, thank you. I owe you one.”

Arthur’s eyes go wide and he quickly speed walks back down the corridor, turning the corner and rushing off to take an alternative route back to his rooms so he doesn’t run into Merlin somewhere along the way. His thoughts run a mile a minute as he stalks through the castle, but he finds, when he eventually gets back to his rooms, that all he can think of is Merlin, and how Cook is right: he does always seem to know what Arthur needs, even if it’s not what he wants.

Merlin is already there when he finally goes in, laying the tray out on the table and humming something nonsensical under his breath:

“Sire! Just in time, I worried I was late.”

Arthur almost says something, but finds his anger sorely lacking as he glances around the room at the comforting neatness:

“...No, no you’re fine, Merlin. Thank you.”

Merlin frowns and pauses at Arthur’s thanks, only momentarily, but it’s said so casually, and Arthur doesn’t look at him again as he sits down to eat, that he decides to let the oddness of the Prince’s gratitude slide. He just begins humming again and steps away, towards Arthur’s desk, where he sifts through the various papers. His jaw twitches as he frowns and picks a quill up, quickly taking notes and signing and circling various things on Arthur’s behalf.

The Prince finds that he doesn’t mind that much, he finds that he trusts Merlin’s judgment, and he finds that Merlin was right, the tart really is making him feel better.

If Arthur had to listen to one more damn courtier yammer on about something or other entirely irrelevant, he’d combust.

He’s sick. He’s tired. He’s already had to listen to four entirely baseless complaints of supposed disrespect, three terrible, terrible tax reform ideas, and six (six) subtle-but-completely-unsubtle marriage proposals from various young Ladies and Lords. The Prince doesn’t understand how his father deals with this all day everyday, and with The King sick and bedridden with this year’s strain of flu, Arthur is going to have to deal with it all for at least another week yet.

Arthur knows he’s sick too, but he’s younger and fitter than his father, and if both of them get sick, then there’s no one bar Morgana to look after the Kingdom, and though Arthur trusts her implicitly, he knows that trying to rein in the council is not all Morgana thinks it’s cracked up to be.

He can feel his headache getting deeper and deeper, and full body aches had prompted him to skip out on training this morning, lest he make it worse. Leon had covered for him, thankfully, but at this point he’s fairly certain he’d preferred to have taken two hours of training over two hours of courtiers being... courtiers.

Merlin is acting like a cool balm through the process, not that Arthur would admit it, but he’s keeping the Prince topped up on medication from Gaius, and is filling his study with pleasant smells and low lighting to avoid making things worse. A knock at the door doesn’t catch Arthur’s attention, despite its insistence, but it does catch Merlin’s, and the servant removes himself from his armour polishing without the other man noticing. He opens the door only a crack, going out into the corridor and shutting the door behind him when he sees who it is; it’s the quiet click of the door latch that finally draws Arthur out of his head.

The Prince stands on stiff, sore legs, and walks towards the door so he can make out what Merlin's soft voice is saying:

“I apologise Lord Dagon, but the Prince is currently unavailable for any audiences.”

Arthur frowns at that, technically he is available, he’s supposed to be available, but he doesn’t want to give the Lord a reason to smack Merlin upside he head, so he stays quiet, and stays where he is:

“What do you mean he isn’t available? I know he’s in there, I demand to speak to-”

“Once again, My Lord,-”

Merlin’s voice is hard now, hard and cold and commanding, and Arthur wonders just why he never uses that voice on him when he’s being a prat:

“-the Prince is currently unavailable. If it is an absolute emergency, akin to an invasion or similar, then I can pass the message along to him whilst you wait out here, otherwise, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Arthur isn’t sure what Merlin does, if he gives a look, or waves hand, but the Prince hears the distinct sound of two pairs of armoured feet walking closer. He quirks an eyebrow; though he is surprised, he isn’t too worried about that fact that the castle’s guards apparently trust Merlin’s word and orders above that of a demanding Lord. He hears said Lord splutter and stutter for a moment or two, before huffing and stomping off again, down the corridor and out of earshot.

Arthur quickly sits down again, but can still hear Merlin’s sigh of relief, and soft “thanks guys, appreciate it” and one of the guards’ responding “no problem, Prince looks in a proper state, and we figured you was giving him some peace for a reason”.

Arthur is fast to look back down to his work, furrowing his brow as his eyes struggle to focus on the words in front of him, but he looks up again when, out the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin shut the door behind him:

“Who was that?”

Merlin smiles softly and shakes his head as he wanders over, looking over Arthur’s shoulder and raising his eyebrow at the single sentence that he’s managed to write in the last hour:

“No one important. Come on, I set the sofa up earlier so you can take a power nap. I’ll ward off any visitors and finish off some of this for you whilst you sleep.”

Arthur shakes his head and rubs his eyes, first at Merlin’s quick lie, and then at his offer for sleep:

“No, no, I have to get all of this done before tomorrow.”

Merlin tuts and rolls his eyes, snatching the quill from the Prince’s tired hand and pointing it at the sofa across the room:

“Sleep, you idiot. I’ll do the paperwork, I’ll even leave it for you to check over, if you really want me to, but we both know I can imitate your hand writing and signature perfectly.”

Arthur sighs but nods, standing and wandering over to the sofa, eyes closing before he’s even collapsed on the soft seating. Merlin chuckles to himself and tucks the quill away before following, kneeling down in front of the Prince to remove his boots, then his jacket; he pushes him back to lay down before covering him in the blanket and brushing his hair away from his face. Almost all of which Arthur is completely unaware of, already having succumbed to his previously unknown desperate need for sleep.

When the Prince wakes, what must be several hours later, his paperwork is finished, a note on his desk tells him dinner is waiting in his chambers, and the guards outside tell him that Merlin had scared off at least six more unwanted visitors.

He smiles to himself, shakes his head, doesn’t bother checking the paperwork, and heads to meet Merlin in his chambers.

He’s running late. He knows he’s running late.

Fuck, his father is going to kill him.

Arthur pulls his clothes around as he rushes down the hall, trying desperately to look as though he hadn’t just forgotten the meeting, and had in fact been up to something very important that couldn’t be avoided that he is still trying to come up with a name for. He’s failing miserably, on all levels, and he doesn’t even have enough energy to be annoyed at the sympathetic frowns the passing guards are giving him.

He finally pulls himself to a stop outside the council chamber, trying to catch his breath and fan away the redness of his cheeks, thankful beyond anything that there aren’t any guards stationed at the doors at the minute. The Prince takes a deep breath, hand hovering over the doorknob as he prepares to go in and receive a verbal lashing in front of a crowd when he hears a familiar voice pipe up:

“I apologise, Sire, I’m sure the Prince will be along shortly. There was... there were some oversights in the knights patrol rota that had to be seen to immediately. No one’s fault, of course, just unexpected illness that left some rather demanding gaps.”

He pauses, frowning slightly at the blatant lie that Merlin had just told The King, straight to his face. If there were any knights in there, like there should be, then.... well.

He hears the distinct sound of Leon, clearing his voice as though to say something, and Arthur presses his eyes shut, begging that now not be the time for Leon’s otherworldly loyalty to The King to shine through:

“He’s correct, My Lord, I’m sure Prince Arthur won’t be long.”

Arthur lets out a breath, a breath that he’s sure Merlin is letting out as well. Stupid man, where does he get off, lying to The King like that?? Arthur wonders briefly if Merlin has ever lied to him like that, and then he remembers that ninety percent of the stupid shit he’s caught Merlin doing has been either completely nonsensical and harmless, or harmful only to himself, and in defence of others; he decides very quickly, and rather horrifyingly, that he doesn’t think he minds if Merlin lies to him. He takes in one last deep breath as he hears his father grumble, straightening his hair before walking into the room briskly:

“I apologise father, I-”

Uther cuts him off, sitting down and speaking strongly:

“There’s no need. Sit, and we can finally begin.”

He’s annoyed still, but after spending so many years berating Arthur for not taking his duties seriously, for not working hard enough, he can hardly start yelling now, not over this. Arthur tries to subtly glance over his shoulder to nod at Merlin, but the servant is too busy doing the same to Sir Leon, stood on the opposite side of the room, and so Arthur leaves it, joining in on the meeting without another distracting thought.

It had been stupid really, for Arthur to wander off, but they’d needed more firewood, and Merlin had looked so miserable that The new King had been loathed to send him into the cold forest alone. The servant had been soaked to the bone in the day’s earlier downpour, whilst Arthur had been reasonably well protected by his many layers, so The King left Merlin to hopefully keep at least a little warmer by what’s left of the campfire whilst he ventures away from their dreary set up to look for more fuel.

He’d assumed he’d only be gone for ten minutes, at most, but half an hour soon passes and he barely has a handful of dry wood; it seems his servant is not the only thing the earlier flash flood had soaked through. He returns eventually with a few damp logs that he hopes will dry quickly, held tightly under his arms, and a large handful of dry kindling that he’s praying will keep the fire burning long enough for that to happen, but he finds himself dropping it all to the floor silently and lowering himself to a crouch just beyond the edge of the camp.

He hears multiple voices, and considering none of them sound friendly, and the only person who should be at the camp is Merlin, he thinks it’s reasonable for him to be cautious. The King draws his sword and creeps closer, peeking from behind a tree to see if he can figure out what’s going on. His blood runs cold and his hand tightens around the hilt of weapon when he sees a group of three bandits surrounding Merlin, dirty grins on their faces:

“This is quite the big camp for one person, hey? Two ponies, two bedrolls... tell me, where’s your friend?”

Arthur expects Merlin to point him out and braces himself, ready for a fight. What he doesn’t expect, is for Merlin to scoff derisively and lie as thoroughly as he’s able:

“I’m camping alone. There’s no one else, just me, so take my coin and fuck off.”

The servant slowly reaches a hand to his hip, but is stopped when a blade presses to his throat:

“Watch it, pretty boy, I’m feeling rather twitchy, and you don’t want me... twitching, do ya?-”

As he says it, he pulls the sword to one side slightly, making a small cut at the base of Merlin’s throat that the servant barely even flinches at. The other two men laugh, but don’t lower their weapons quite yet, still looking around as though they expect someone else to jump at them. Arthur’s blood boils, but he doesn’t reveal himself just yet:

“-And don’t lie, pretty, there’s two of everything.”

Merlin rolls his eyes so hard Arthur’s sure it must’ve hurt, and continues to reach for his hip, ignoring the bandit’s slight growl. Arthur gulps, hoping to God he wasn’t going for a weapon, but relaxes when he pulls out what appears to be a small pouch of cones:

“I’m on my way to pick someone up from a village, that way,-”

He nods his head to the opposite side of the circle to Arthur, but the bandits don’t look away long enough for the King to be able to do anything:

“-so like I said, take my coin and fuck off. I’m a physician, I don’t have the time or the energy for this.”

If Arthur hadn’t seen it a million times before, he’d be impressed with Merlin’s brazenness, as it is, he just rolls his eyes and prepares to lunge; Merlin doesn’t even glance in his direction, but Arthur knows, he knows, that the servant is aware of his presence. He trusts. Merlin throws the pouch of coins to the side, and when the bandits turn, when they stare, obviously thinking it over for some reason, Merlin shuffles back, just a few inches, and Arthur runs.

The largest of the bandits, the one that Merlin had been in the most danger from, is taken care of first. Merlin hurls himself at another, tackling him to the floor before kicking burning embers at his face; the bandit’s screams distract his friend, and Arthur quickly despatches him, before silencing the screaming one. The whole fight is over in a matter of seconds, and Merlin sighs, hands on his hips, before picking up his coin pouch and then staring despondently at the sad remains of the fire. His hand absent-mindedly reaches up to wipe away the blood from his neck; the cut has already stopped weeping though, so neither of them are overly worried by it.

Arthur rolls his eyes and before frowning at him:

“What the hell was that about?!”

Merlin shrugs and gets to work on dragging the bodies away from the camp, and Arthur casually wonders just when the servant had gotten so used to dealing with such morbid things:

“I couldn’t exactly tell them that I was travelling with the King, without any guards or knights, and that he was wandering the forest alone, could I?-”

He comes back for the second body:

“-And anyway, we managed, didn’t we?”

Arthur stares at him for a few more moments before hooking his hands under the arms of the last bandit, and dragging him over to where Merlin had been piling them. He doesn’t respond, just hums vaguely before joining his servant by the side of the dying fire:

“I did have wood.-”

Merlin just hums:

“-I could go get it again?”

Merlin hums again, but it’s shorter, lower, and Arthur nods, turning to gather their bedrolls from their packs and laying them together. He grabs his spare cloak from his bag, as well as both blankets and their spare tunics. They layer up before getting into the bed rolls and shuffling to be pressed together; it happens more often than they’d care to admit to anyone, but they don’t really care anymore. Body warmth is best way to stave off hypothermia, after all, and Arthur is glad Merlin doesn’t want him to go hunting for the wood. He can’t quite remember where he’d dropped it, and he’d be loathed to leave Merlin at the camp alone whilst he wandered off.

When he’d first heard them, Arthur had had absolute faith that the rumours were false.

After all, how many other times had someone whispered something about an assassination attempt to him, for the whole castle to go into lockdown, for nothing to then happen?

Merlin had rolled his eyes and Lancelot had coughed in a manner that sounded suspiciously like a snigger when he’d expression that particular sentiment to the council earlier in the day, but he hadn’t had the time, or the patience, honestly, to question it. Now though, he’s starting to think that perhaps he should have.

He had just about managed to lose his guard dog (he hadn’t asked for it, but Leon had taken to unsubtly following him around, hand on the hilt of his sword at all times), and had opened a door into a dark corner of the library only to spy something rather odd through the dusty shelves. He shuts the door softly behind him, sending thanks to whoever had recently oiled the hinges, and sneaks closer, keeping his knees bent and his hands held out for balance.

The sound of rather furious whispering comes into focus, and if he squints through the dust, he can see... Merlin... holding a grubby looking man against the wall... with a dagger to his throat. He blinks rapidly, certain at first the the dust was distorting the image, but when he opens his eyes once more, the sight before him is the same. He blinks again, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths through his open mouth, and listen:

“...Now. I’m going to ask one more time, or things are going to get a hell of a lot worse for you. Who sent you, and how many partners do you have?”

The man growls, the vitriol dripping from his words as he harshly responds:

“Fuck you, I ain’t saying nothing, you’re just a fucking servant.”

From his angle, Arthur can see the bone chilling smile on Merlin’s face, and he gulps:

“Let’s see how long you stick to that, sunshine.”

In any other circumstances, The King might think that Merlin calling someone sunshine would be incredibly endearing and morale boosting and all sorts of lovely, but in that cold tone of voice, with that creepy smile, he knows it means no good. What comes next is a squelching sound, then a surprised squeal that is quickly cut off by Merlin’s hand pressing harshly over the man’s mouth, then a snapping, then more suppressed screeching, then more squelching.

Arthur allows his gaze to slip lower, and he suddenly understands, with a growing nausea deep in his stomach, why the man had tried to scream and wriggle away; there on the wall is his hand with another dagger cutting straight through it, pinning it palm first to the brickwork. Merlin’s other hand is still pressed to the man’s mouth, the sharp point of the dagger held in those fingers barely an inch from the other’s eye. He speaks again, his voice low, and slow, and commanding in a way that Arthur has never heard before, not with annoying courtiers, not with twitchy bandits:

“When I take my hand away, you’re not going to scream, you’re not even going to squeal. When I take my hand away, you’re going to speak very calmly, and clearly, and quietly. When I take my hand away, you’re going to tell me exactly what I want to know, or instead of putting a few extra holes in you, I’ll start cutting things off, starting with your fingers, moving on to your dick, and ending with your eyelids. Do you understand? Nod.”

The man is shaking by the time Merlin has finished, but he nods nonetheless, and Arthur gulps as Merlin smiles again:

“Good. Now, who sent you?”

He slowly moves the hand away from the man’s mouth, and though he whimpers quietly, he is evidently trying very hard not to make too much noise. He pants, but at Merlin’s raised eyebrow, he begins to slowly speak, as calmly as he’s able and with only a slight stutter:

“Ki- King Lot. He p-p-paid me half before, said there was-was more after Pen-Pendragon was dead.”

Merlin nods, as though the information is unsurprising to him, but Arthur scowls. He’d known that tensions with Lot were bad, but bad enough to start sending assassins? That, he was unaware of. Before he can think on it further, Merlin speaks again:

“And how may people are working with you?”

The man doesn’t even hesitate this time, obviously somewhat used to the pain, though he’s still shaking and stuttering like his life depends on it. Arthur wonders if it does, he wonders if Merlin plans on... on killing this man:

“None at-at the moment. There were f-five to start, but Lot only sent-only sent one at a time. I’m the-the first, if I fail-”

Merlin interrupts him, so quietly Arthur has to strain to hear it, as if he’s just talking to himself:

“Then more will follow...-”

The man nods, but doesn’t say anything, not until Merlin looks back to him again:

“-How long until someone else comes?”

“Two-two weeks.”

Merlin nods this time, considering the information carefully as he looks around, like he’s chasing all his thoughts into one corner of his mind. He nods once more, more decisively this time, and steps away from the man, leaving the dagger imbedded in the stone so he can’t move lest he cause himself quite a lot of pain:

“Thanks for that, and sorry for this. Well... not really, you’re a danger to Arthur and I really can’t be having that, but you know, my mam raised me with manners.”

With that, Merlin steps forward once again, whipping his other hand up and pushing his second dagger up through the man’s chin, into his brain. He flails for barely a moment before sagging down, the weight of his body finally pulling the hand from the wall. He’s dead, Arthur is certain of it, and The King struggles to keep his breathing even, more so when he sees the steely look of determination on his friend’s face and the slow trickle of blood from the assassin’s wound and mouth and nose.

It’s late at night, so it’s a complete coincidence that Arthur had stumbled upon the scene (yes, Leon had even stationed himself outside of Arthur’s chambers, and had followed him on his midnight stroll. Yes, the knight is probably besides himself with worry, but that is a problem for another time. He wonders if the knight would even believe him, if he told him where he’d been, what he’d seen), but Merlin still glances around the library, just to make sure no one else was there. He bends over to pull the two blades from the body and tucks them into a pocket, before hoisting the corpse up to flop over his shoulder.

The servant circles around the shelves Arthur is hiding behind, and Arthur follows him quietly, so he isn’t spotted, and watches as Merlin leaves through the same door The King had entered through, silently pushing it closed behind him.

Arthur allows himself a moment to breathe, not quite sure what to think, other than the fact that Merlin is a lot scarier than he lets on, and actually has the skills to back up what Arthur had previously thought was a funky, but ultimately useless protective streak. He glances to the blood staining the wall and floor for a few seconds, and then follows Merlin out the door as quietly as he can; it takes a few minutes of silently jogging the castle halls, occasionally following trails of blood and occasionally listening out for soft footsteps or the swish of fabric, before he finally spies Merlin entering one of the lesser used back doors to the dungeons.

The door doesn’t shut properly, and Arthur sneaks up to the wall so he can listening in (sending thanks to whoever hadn’t fixed the latch on this door). He hears the voice of a guard that he vaguely recognises; he's confident that he could point him out in a crowd, as one of Merlin’s friends, and one of the captains of the guard, but he couldn’t recite his name:

“Merlin? What are you doing up so- bloody hell! Is that another one??”

A thump echoes from the room, a rather harsh one, and Arthur guesses that Merlin must’ve dropped the body:

“Yeah, the first of five from King Lot, apparently. The King isn’t going to sort out his own security, not until he has proof, and I don’t plan on letting them get that close, not yet, anyway, so can you up the guard rotations and keep an eye on Essetirian nationals? Nothing too overt, but I can’t have eyes on Arthur every hour of the day, so I could use some help.”

Arthur hears the jangle of armour, and what sounds like a ring of keys:

“Yeah, yeah sure, I’ll have a chat with the boys. Want me to let them in on it, or just tell them it’s because of the rumours?”

There’s a pause, and Arthur finds himself a little surprised at how he can picture the exact thinking face Merlin is pulling right now; the one where his mouth thins because he’s biting the inside of his lips, and there’s a slight crease in his brow as he looks down and to the right:

“Hmm. No, just blame the rumours. I’ll tell Lance, George, and maybe Cook what’s going on, but I don’t want anything to get too far out of my hands. Keep an eye out for me whilst I’m in there?”

“Sure, I’ll sort it in the morning. And yeah, I know the drill. Do you need a hand, or can you manage?”

There’s a slight groan, a flapping of fabric, the sound of a door being unlocked and opened, and then a wave of heated air that can only be from the incinerator, almost permanently lit in winter to keep the lower levels from freezing. Arthur feels the nausea increase:

“Nah, I’m fine.”

The door shuts, and Arthur waits. Maybe ten minutes pass before the door opens and closes again and the sound of a lock being turned reaches The King’s ears:

“Anything interesting?”

“Meh, an unsigned letter with instructions, from Lot, no doubt, and a few coins, nothing concrete. Everything’s in there, bar any metal he had on him. I’ll keep a hold of it for a while then send it out of the Kingdom to be sold on. Nothing to connect anyone, unless Lot fancies stepping forward to say that the assassin he sent to kill Arthur never returned, and he’d like to accuse us of something.”

The guard chuckles, but doesn’t say anything, and Merlin just mutters a quiet “goodnight, see you in the morning” before making his way to the unclosed door that Arthur is hiding behind. The King quickly presses himself into the shadows, knowing that unless Merlin decided to stick his hand in the corner of the hallway, he’d remain unseen. He waits for the servant to pass him, then waits for five more minutes, and only then does he make his way back into the main part of the castle.

He wanders aimlessly for a little while, feeling somewhat relaxed considering everything. He supposes that Merlin being cold-hearted and vicious when it comes to protecting the people he cares about... shouldn’t surprise him, and it doesn’t, for the most part. But the daggers and the threats and the secrecy and the incinerator sure as hell had.

He eventually finds Leon, pacing up and down the corridor outside The King’s chambers, and though the First Knight sends him a despairing look, Arthur just smiles, rolls his eyes, and quietly dismisses him for the second time that night, rather more forcefully this time. He seems reluctant, but goes eventually, and Arthur waits until he’s out of sight before he turns back around, and heads to the library again. He’s not even sure what he wants to accomplish, what he wants to find, but he sees it when he gets there: a far too clean, far too dust free patch on the wall and floor right at the back of Geoffrey’s domain. There’s not a speck of blood to be seen, and as far as Arthur’s memory can recall, he hadn’t seen any in the hallways either.

He takes a deep breath, blinks away his quiet surprise, gulps, and goes back to his rooms.

He doesn’t sleep much that night, as he thinks on all the things Merlin had done for him over the years. The paperwork and pick-me-ups can be counted in his duties. But the lying, the excuses, the aggressive, apparently extremely aggressive, protectiveness... Arthur isn’t quite sure what to make of it all. He finds himself unworried about Merlin’s loyalty, after all, if it was one big trick to gain Arthur’s trust, then Merlin would make a show of it. As it is, as far as the servant is concerned, Arthur is entirely unaware just how far Merlin will go to protect his King.

Arthur wonders if he is aware, or if there’s more. There always seems to be more, with Merlin.

+1)

After the first assassin incident, Arthur had taken to keeping a closer eye on Merlin. He’d watched the servant secretly despatch of two more of the assassins, and then tactically lead a group of knights and guards to one, and Gwaine and Percival to the other. Arthur had marvelled at that, but hadn’t said anything. It’s obvious now he knows what to look for, the pointers in the way Merlin moves and speaks, the way he controls every situation he finds himself in, and eight out of ten times, gets exactly what he wants out of them. Arthur would normally be very wary of that, but considering it’s his own safety and happiness that Merlin wants, he can’t exactly be mad about it. And besides, it’s Merlin. Arthur thinks he might be physically incapable of losing trust in the man.

He’s also learned that Merlin is not quite as alone as he’d feared. Sir Lancelot is definitely in on it, this whole... “making Arthur’s life easier” scheme, most of the time, and the guard, whose name Arthur now knows is Gavin, is in on the majority of it as well. The servant, George, seems to be in on at least half of it, though Arthur gets the impression that, like Merlin, he’s smarter than he looks; he always happens to walk past, always happens to make himself suspiciously available, whenever Merlin and Lance need an extra pair of hands. The Cook too, is made aware of the validity of the assassination rumours, and Arthur correctly figures that’s mostly down to the possibility of poison.

All of this just means that Arthur is suddenly very aware of the shadows that Merlin moves in, and that when he turns around to find the servant not in his, he knows exactly where to look.

So far, Arthur has only had to follow Merlin out of the city once, and when he does, it turns out that the servant really was just picking herbs for Gaius. The King had gotten fairly bored of that fairly quickly, and went home after barely twenty minutes, which is lucky really, because about ten minutes later the Druids that Merlin had been waiting for finally showed up to tell their Lord all about the horrific beast that had been destroying their camps and hunting in local villages.

The next time The King follows Merlin beyond the city walls, Gaius had said the servant was spending his afternoon off in the tavern, so Arthur knows that he’s on track to see Merlin doing something wacky. He’s a few minutes behind the servant, following his tracks through the underbrush as opposed to Merlin himself, to stop himself being spotted; when he finally catches up, spurred on by the sounds of an entirely unnatural fight, what he sees takes his breath away.

He seems to have stumbled upon the scene during a lull in the battle, and he gapes from behind a tree at a giant, grotesque... monster. It looks sort of like the troll that his father had once married—Arthur momentarily shudders at the reminder—but much larger, and wearing significantly fewer clothes. His mind supplies the word “ogre” with an image of a picture book he’d had as a child; he’d honestly never believed in such things before, but then again, if Griffins and Lamiae and Unicorns and trolls exist, then why can’t ogres?

The lull doesn’t last long, and with a mighty roar that shakes the ground, the beast charges at Merlin. He stands in the centre of the clearing with no armour or weapon to speak of, but his wide-legged stance doesn’t falter, and Arthur watches in frozen horror as the servant flexes his hands and clicks his neck from side to side. Arthur can’t move, no matter how much he wants to draw his sword and rush to Merlin’s defence, and he can’t even whisper, no matter how much he wants to scream at Merlin to run. But then the unthinkable happens, the unexpected. Though at this point, Arthur thinks his surprise is his own fault, and he really should’ve seen this coming.

Merlin stretches his arms out in front of him, roars something that sounds unintelligible to Arthur, but clearly has a purpose, and pushes a writhing, storming stream of fire out from his hands. Arthur lets out a breath and sags against the tree as Merlin controls it with ease, dancing around the clearing to stay out of the ogre’s reach as the beast screeches. Arthur figures he must have arrived near the beginning of the fight, because with the way it’s going... Merlin really has got it down pat.

A few more streams of fire, a few thrown boulders (both by the ogre and by Merlin’s waving, powerful hands), and a strike of lightening that Arthur feels in his bones, the ogre lies dead, off to the side, and Merlin pants, his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. His eyes still glow golden, and Arthur finds himself staring at them, not quite certain whether he is awed or a little afraid. Perhaps a mix of the two.

Before he even makes the conscious decision, Arthur’s legs are moving him out from behind the tree and walking him towards his servant. It takes a moment or two for Merlin to notice him, but when he does, the gold zaps from his wide, suddenly frightened eyes quicker than The King can blink, and he stumbles back, his hands held out defensively in front of him as if Arthur hadn’t just seen him massacre a giant magical beast:

“Arthur? What are you... I can explain just... just give me... just let me explain!”

Arthur stops and frowns at Merlin’s fear, and then suddenly remembers that yes, the purge had been a thing that had happened, and yes, Arthur had been spouting his father’s beliefs since before he could walk, and yes, he himself had been enforcing the illegality of magic. He blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to find the words, but before he can, Merlin’s fear drains a little, to be replaced with concern. The servant still doesn’t step any closer, but he frowns and lowers his hands slightly:

“Arthur... are you alright?”

The King blinks and shakes his head, though not in disagreement, more to just try and rid his mind of the guilty fog that had stopped him from speaking:

“Uh... yes, yeah, I’m fine. Just... processing. Give me a moment.”

He doesn’t sound all that angry, but to be fair, he doesn’t sound all that anything. Merlin jumps to his own defence, desperately trying to explain everything at once before Arthur has a chance to realise how furious he is:

“I’m not evil! I use my magic to protect you, and Camelot, and I swear on my life I have never acted against you! Please, Arthur you have to believe me, I’m still the same man you know, and I’m not-”

Arthur waves away his words and untenses his shoulders with rolled eyes:

“Calm down Merlin, you dolt, I’m not angry. Well, I am, but not about the magic. I’m very much aware of how much you do for me: all the lying and the excuses and the... assassination of assassins. Which honestly somehow caught me more off guard than this did.”

He gestures vaguely to the smouldering corpse of the ogre, and Merlin glances at it before whipping his head back to Arthur, eyes wide:

“You knew about that?!”

Arthur raises an eyebrow:

“Yes, Merlin, I knew about that. I saw you... deal, with the first of Lot’s five, and as disturbing as it was, began following you around to see what else you get up to when you think no one is watching. Which brings me back to my anger, actually.-”

Merlin gulps, but seems to understand that he isn’t in any actual danger from The King. Arthur puts his hands on his hips and narrows his eyes at the servant:

“-You’re never doing this alone again. First of all, it’s dangerous, and I don’t want you wandering off to deal with Camelot’s latest disaster and then not coming back because you’ve been skewered or... or squished and eaten-”

He nods at the dead ogre again:

“-without anyone knowing what’s happened to you. And second off,-”

At this he gets visibly more annoyed, and Merlin cringes slightly as Arthur gestures wildly with his hands:

“-how dare you leave me out of this! That fight looked incredible, and you left me at home! You’ve deprived me of one hell of a tavern story, and I fully expect you make up for that by not leaving me behind next time. Dick.”

Merlin freezes and narrows his eyes in confusion, before all the tension drains from his body and he stares at Arthur incredulously:

“That’s what you’re mad about?! I almost died, and you’re mad that you didn’t get to join in on the fun??”

Arthur blinks and purses his lips, allowing his gaze to wander the clearing as he momentarily thinks, before looking back to the servant and nodding decisively:

“Yes.-”

He abruptly turns as Merlin sputters and waves his arm for the servant to follow him:

“-Now come on,-”

He turns, frowning in confusion as he looks between Merlin and the ogre’s corpse:

“-or do we have to... do something, about that?”

Merlin just wordlessly shakes his head, and Arthur smiles and turns away again, walking in the direction of the castle. The Warlock stays where he is for a few moments, confusion freezing his legs and muddling his mind, but Arthur calls out from ahead of him:

“Come on then, slow poke. It’s late, I’m tired, we can work on the repeal tomorrow.”

The King’s words nudge Merlin into a jog so he can catch up, but he doesn’t respond, just blinks, shrugs his shoulders, and decides that, in the grand scheme of things, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

The End!!!

That was fun to write! Definitely not my favourite, but I hope y’all enjoy it!!

Head over to This List and let me know which you’d like me to prioritise! :D

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introvert--weeb · 3 years

Note

Hello! I hope ur doing okay don’t forget to drink water it’s important!!! Ohom can l request reader wearing their s/o’s jacket and acting like them in the mirror like “l’m the _____ do you wanna die?!” Smth like that and her s/o is watching them while this is happening if it’s okay can you add smiley, izana (you can add his earings too it’ll be cute!) and baji you can add others if you want or can ignore this ily!

This is adorable!! Of course I will! 💕 And thank you, you make sure you keep hydrated as well ❤️

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

Smiley, Izana, Baji with reader impersonating them

TW: mentions of playful threats, teasing, terrible impersonations, manga spoilers (Izana), author writes these while extremely tired, may have not been proofread entirely but author will look over at some point 😅

---

Nahoya 'Smiley'

It had all started out as the two of you were casually hanging out in his room, exchanging the odd affection here and there. Nahoya had asked you to come over so you, him and Souya could watch a new movie that he had bought earlier that week. However, this would require snacks, something you had to remind your boyfriend. And so, the twins had left you alone in Smiley's room to head to the shop and buy the required supplies. Not without your boyfriend teasing you over how you pouted at him due to his teasing over your sweet tooth.

Bored, you let your eyes wander around the room in search of something to keep you entertained. After all, being left alone is boring as hell. So when your eyes caught sight of Nahoya's Toman jacket, you felt a bubble of excitement rise in your chest. Before you could even think the plan through fully, you pulled the sleeves over your arms and fastened it. Nahoya's usual cologne filled your nose as the fabric hung loosely off your frame.

Making your way towards the full length mirror that resided in Nahoya's bedroom, you grinned at how good you looked. Maybe you should steal his jackets more often because you looked amazing! You could probably convince him to let you have a hoodie or two since you understood you couldn't take his Toman jacket. Maybe commissioning Mitsuya to make you one was a viable option? That thought was tucked away for now.

While admiring yourself in the reflection, an idea popped into your mind. Why not pretend to be Nahoya? After all, it was only you in the home and it was an entertaining idea. So this is how it all started.

Your lips pulled until you had the grin your boyfriend was known for as your mind reeled through all the phrases you knew he would say. It was entertaining trying to get his voice right (you never could) and you couldn't help thinking that it was a good impersonation of your beloved.

Nahoya was about to enter his room when he noticed what you were doing. He had arrived at the door as you had gotten to the 'I'll kill you' line that Smiley was known for, his hand slapping over his mouth to stop the laughter that threatened to expose his position. Wanting to enjoy the show more, the boy made himself comfortable leaning against the door frame as his face displayed just how amused he was. After all, who wouldn't be entertained by their partner trying their best to be like them?

You eventually caught sight of your boyfriend in the mirror's reflection, your cheeks flushing a deep red from the embarrassment. Greeting your boyfriend with an awkward wave, you watched as he came closer and flushed an even deeper red at the laughter that he let loose.

Smiley couldn't stop his laugh now. Not when you looked so cute in his jacket and the memory of you impersonating him still fresh in his mind. Once he was close enough, he brought you into his arms to place a soft kiss on your forehead with his smile never leaving his face.

"Ya really think I talk like that, huh?" Smiley would laugh more before deciding to give you some pointers. The movie would be forgotten about (much to Souya's confusion) as Nahoya and yourself would continue with the impersonation, your boyfriend laughing while you entertained him.

Izana

Izana had invited you around so you could both hang out. Really, you just think he wanted to be held because that's all the two of you had been doing since you had entered his room. However, you did notice that Izana was without his earrings, him explaining how they got uncomfortable when he was lazing around. Understandable.

Your boyfriend was close to falling asleep, the feeling of your fingers running through his hair soothing him. It was rare for him to get time to just relax, especially with the plans of the upcoming brawl with Tokyo Manji. He had already spent hours with his Heavenly Kings simply planning an attack strategy. For now, all he wanted was to think about how good you were for him and nap.

Just as his eyes had shut, sleep trying to take ahold of his body, his phone rang. Due to how quiet it was in his room, the ringtone caused you to jolt from the sudden noise. If it hadn't just ruined a perfect moment between the two of you, Izana would have teased you over your reaction. However, all he could think of was killing whoever dared call him and maybe hunt down their families too just to make a point. It was only as it was Kakucho that the boy answered, taking the call out of his room for more privacy.

It all happened too quickly for you to process it. One moment Izana's head was on your lap, the next he was out of the room on the phone to someone. However, you did understand that Izana was the leader of Tenjiku and had been spending a lot of his time with them. Maybe it was something to do with that.

However, you were getting bored. So bored in fact that your phone just wasn't going to cut it. Your eyes aimlessly wandered around the room until they landed on something that could entertain you. A full-length mirror, a pair of long earrings, and Izana's Tenjiku jacket. Yes, they could entertain you.

Thank God your ears were already pierced. Putting on the long red jacket and the earrings, you couldn't help but laugh a little at how you looked. The Tenjiku jacket was big on you (Izana was taller) and it made you look like a child trying on their parent's clothes.

Standing in front of the mirror and admiring your reflection, a silly idea popped into your mind. Why not try your hand at impressions? And you had the props for a perfect Izana. Without thinking about what you would do when your boyfriend came back, you started to impersonate the Tenjiku King.

You had gotten the head tilt and smile almost perfect. Now all that was left was the voice, which you were struggling with. However, it was more entertaining with how different it sounded. Just needed more lines to practice the voice with. So that's when your mind started coming up with things that Izana would never say but you wanted him to.

It was as you were midway through the "I'm the great Izana! Bow down to me, peasants" line when said male entered back into the room. Amusement at your actions danced in his eyes when he realised you still hadn't noticed his presence. Who was he to ruin the show after all. So he leaned against the wall, a soft smile on his features as he admired how his jacket and earrings looked on you.

Moments passed before you noticed the handsome sight of your boyfriend in the mirror's surface. Embarrassment filled your body but you simply smiled over at Izana, commenting that you couldn't resist the chance. Izana would just softly laugh before saying that you did look good in his things

Baji

It had become a routine in your relationship. You would come over to the Baji residence on a Saturday and the two of you would spend the day either playing videogames or reading manga together. If it was a particularly good day, the two of you might even go on his beloved bike and visit a cat café or simply drive. Saturday was quick to become one of your favourite days in the entire week.

This particular Saturday, the weather wasn't ideal for a bike ride and so this left both you and Keisuke with your usual options. You had found yourself relaxing in your boyfriend's arms as your latest manga read was in your hands. Keisuke was busy trying his hardest to read a textbook as a test was coming up in the week. It would be a lie to say that you weren't impressed with Keisuke studying to make his dear mother proud. Hell, you would study just to make the sweet Mother Baji proud!

Just as you had finished the volume of your manga and was about to help your boyfriend in studying, the sound of his ringtone echoed around the quiet room. Keisuke was quick to check who it was, a little happy that someone had interrupted his studying. After all, none of it was making much sense to him. It was as the name 'Chifuyu' flashed onto his screen that he decided he needed to take it. It could be some Toman business that he possibly forgot about and would need to know. And so, he apologised for cutting the cuddling short before leaving his room to answer the call.

Now what were you meant to do? You had finished the manga and hadn't brought any others. So, you were stuck. Feeling bored, your gaze travelled around the room until they landed on the Toman jacket and sash. That was when the idea came to your mind.

In no time, you were off the bed and already in the process of pulling the jacket on your smaller frame. The jacket itself dwarfed you under its size, falling to your mid-thigh. Of course it would though, Keisuke was taller than you and bigger due to his build. But it was cute how it fell and the scent of your boyfriend's usual cologne had seeped into the material, making it feel as though Keisuke was wrapping you into his arms. Although you could just be happy like this, you had a plan and so the sash was clumsily tied how it would be on Baji.

You walked over to the mirror, having to prevent yourself from laughing over the appearance. It was as if a child had borrowed their dad's favourite jacket when playing dress up. However, there was still the plan. So, feeling childish and thinking this was the best idea ever, you began trying to impersonate your beloved. Copying his speech pattern and actions, you actually thought your impersonation was pretty accurate.

Baji had finished up the call, thankful that Chifuyu had called him up to remind him that there was a Toman meeting tonight at Musashi Shrine. Mikey would kill him if he missed another one. As he neared his bedroom door though, he was surprised to hear you talking. Maybe you had gotten a call too? Keisuke opened his door only to find the funniest sight ever. You were in front of his full-length mirror, a beautiful smile on your face as the line 'I am the great Keisuke Baji, do you wanna die?' flowed out of your mouth. Your voice was purposefully deeper but did not sound like him.

He couldn't hold back his amusement or laughter and approached where you were standing. Although he loved the impressions you were doing, he couldn't help but give you pointers while sorting the sash that was skewed on your figure. You on the other hand, had a blush that covered your cheeks, ears and neck. Your boyfriend had just caught you trying to act like him and wearing his sacred gang uniform. However, Keisuke would make you practice some of the impressions, all while grinning at how cute you were.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #anime drabble #nahoya x reader #tokyo revengers nahoya #nahoya kawata #smiley x reader #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #tokyo revengers izana #keisuke baji x reader #baji keisuke #baji tokyo revengers #requested #laura writes for tokyo revengers

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twices-pup · 3 years

Text

Tattoos Together

title : tattoos together ( son chaeyoung x gn reader )

word count : 1,682 words

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of needles

synopsis : [ requested ] you face a fear to remind your girlfriend, chaeyoung, that you love her for all that she is, including her tattoos.

side note : my first request finally done! i really hope the anon who requested and anyone else who reads this likes it! the request was a little vague so i had trouble making this fic long enough, and had to rewrite it a few times but since today is chaeyoung's birthday i was determined to finally get this out! happy strawberry princess day, everyone!! also, the title is definitely inspired by the song tattoos together by lauv because i suck at coming up with titles.

You were never one to be fond of the idea of getting a tattoo. It most probably stemmed from the fear of needles that you've had since you were a child and never quite grew out of. The mere thought of your skin being pierced and inked was enough to send a chill down your spine, which was why you vowed to yourself to never so much as step foot into a tattoo parlor.

Your girlfriend, on the other hand, loved getting tattoos. Her skin was like a canvas, and the tattoos she had gotten over the past couple of years were the works of art. You weren't surprised, Chaeyoung herself was nothing short of an artist, after all—if you handed her a pen and a piece of paper, she'd be able to conjure up a masterpiece out of thin air. Although you were still very much against getting a tattoo yourself, you've learned to love each and every one of the tattoos adorning her skin just as much as you loved the person herself.

Chaeyoung told you her intentions to get a couple more new tattoos shortly before TWICE began filming for the music video of their then newest title track, More & More, for the mini album of the same name. She was over at your place for a visit and the two of you were lazing on your couch together, television turned on and your eyes on the screen but neither of you really focusing on the program playing. You had an arm around her shoulders while she rested her head in the crook of your neck, the room pretty dark save for the light flashing from the TV screen and some sunlight that filtered in through your drawn-in curtains. "I've already looked up some designs I like," she had said. "I'll only pick one or two to get tattooed."

You didn't think much of it at first, the only thing that crossed your mind was "Ah, my girlfriend is getting another tattoo, cool." However, that was until you made an off-handed comment, with your eyes still glued on the TV. "You really like getting tattoos, huh? You have so many already, but you still want to get more."

Upon hearing your words, Chaeyoung suddenly became aware that you were subconsciously rubbing her upper arm gently, your fingers brushing right over the cherry tomatoes tattoo she had there. She didn't say anything at first, your living room back to being quiet other than the voices of the actors coming from the TV speaker. "Yeah, I really do," she suddenly answered you after you thought that the topic had been dropped. "I hope you don't have a problem with that."

Although she had muttered the last part under her breath, you were able to hear it clearly. You turned away from the TV to look at her, with a tiny crease between your eyebrows that were furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would I have a problem with it?" you asked her softly.

Chaeyoung met your eyes and sighed. "Not everyone is a fan of girls with tattoos, you know?" she said, her gaze dropping from you to her lap. "So as the person I'm dating, I hope you're not one of those people. Those people who hold prejudice against tattoos or something like that."

Throughout the duration you had known Chaeyoung, you had always viewed her as someone who's free-spirited and jaunty, who doesn't let what other, insignificant people think of her get to her head, as long as she's able to do what she wants to do and be who she wants to be. So seeing her suddenly be so self-conscious about her tattoos, about something she'd usually feel so natural about, caught you by surprise. You realized that, perhaps, as her significant other, your opinion of her meant more to her than that of others did, and you immediately regretted letting your guard down and making such a careless remark.

"Hey," you called out softly, reaching for one of her hands to hold it in yours. "I do not and will never have any kind of problems with your tattoos. I know you love them, and that's completely okay," you assured her, offering her a gentle smile when she looked up at you. Her eyes searched your face for a moment, before she started chuckling.

"Thank you, y/n. Wow, that conversation got so serious all of a sudden. I feel a little embarrassed now, let's talk about something else."

You obliged with a nod, letting Chaeyoung shift the conversation to a different topic as you didn't want her to feel awkward or uncomfortable. Though you did make a mental note to remind her more frequently that you loved her, every single part of her.

On the day of her appointment at her regular tattoo parlor, you gave her a call. "Hey, y/n," she greeted you when she answered her phone. "What's up? I was just about to head to the tattoo place."

"Yeah, that's what I called you for," you said on your end of the call, feeling a little nervous but refusing to turn back on your decision. "Would it be okay if I tagged along with you?"

Your question was met with a moment of silence as Chaeyoung fully took in what you were asking her. "You want to come with me...to a tattoo parlor?" she asked for confirmation, and you nodded, although you were well aware that she wasn't able to see you. "Yes," you verbally answered. "I wanna accompany you as you get your new tattoos."

Knowing you, Chaeyoung surely hadn't expected you to willingly want to watch her get tattooed, in fact it came as a pretty big surprise to her, but if that was what you truly wanted then she had no reason to refuse. She texted you the address of the tattoo parlor and you met up with her there roughly half an hour later, swallowing down your nerves and telling yourself that you were doing it for you girlfriend all throughout your journey.

As the two of you entered the establishment, Chaeyoung noticed your shifty eyes looking all around the tattoo studio, and saw that you seemed more unsure of your decision to come by the passing second. "If you're having any regrets, you can leave at any time," she told you.

Despite the slight uneasiness you were feeling, you quickly shook your head. "It's okay, Chaengie. Like I said, I'm gonna be here for you."

"But why? y/n, you and I both know you're scared of needles, including tattoo needles."

"Because I know how much you love your tattoos. And I love you, so I wanna give you my support."

Your response was enough to put a wide smile on Chaeyoung's face, and seeing her smile was enough to make you smile too, in spite of your jitters. Chaeyoung's hand found yours and held it tightly as she led you deeper into the tattoo parlor. "Thank you," you heard her whisper. "I love you too."

The tattoo parlor was brighter than you had imagined it to be, but frankly that was because you had pictured the place to resemble a dark, soul-sucking torture chamber. Although the sufficient lighting managed to calm your nerves down a bit, the many scary-looking tattoo designs—skulls, snakes, demonic faces—hung up on the walls as decorations weren't helping. As you sat next to Chaeyoung at one of the tattooing stations, you did your best to not look at anything that, to you, were frightening, especially the tattoo machines.

You stayed quiet and only watched as Chaeyoung showed the tattoo artist the designs that she had chosen and told him where she wanted the tattoos to be. Your body tensed up and your breath hitched in your throat when the man took out a tattoo machine and started preparing to tattoo your girlfriend. Chaeyoung, noticing that you were as stiff as a board, gave you a reassuring smile. As much as you appreciated the gesture, you weren't able to smile back.

When the man finally started, you immediately diverted your eyes from your girlfriend to stare down at the floor. However, that did little to nothing to block out the whirring sound of the machine as it did its job. You gripped Chaeyoung's hand, the side that wasn't being tattooed, claiming that you were comforting her, though she had a feeling that it was the other way around instead.

"You're acting like you're the one getting a tattoo," she couldn't help but tease you.

When he was done with her tattoos after what felt like an eternity to you, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. You were finally able to turn back to Chaeyoung as she showed you her two new tattoos, one of a plant on her upper right arm and another of a butterfly by her right wrist.

"Woah, they look great," you complimented, genuinely impressed by the artist's handiwork. "I can't believe I made it through that, I guess watching people get tattooed isn't so bad after all."

Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow at you, amusement evident in her smile. "It isn't, but saying you watched me get tattooed is a bit of a stretch," she opined, and you pouted. "I was still here nonetheless," you argued.

"Alright, alright. Fair enough." Your girlfriend chuckled. "Then maybe next time you can take it a step further and get a tattoo yourself."

You playfully scrunched up your nose at her words and were about to oppose, until she continued. "Maybe we can even get matching ones!" she proposed, her eyes bright with excitement over the idea. Your expression softened in an instant, a wide smile making its way onto your face. Whenever she looked at you like that, with such innocent joy, it was near impossible for you to ever say no.

"Well, maybe one day," you told her, as you helped her up from her seat.

"Maybe one day, we can get tattoos together."

. . .

please do not repost my work, whether on tumblr or on any other site.

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maybe-itll-be-someday · 3 years

Text

How We Raise Them

This is a birthday gift for the most wonderful human being and writer that I get to have the pleasure of being my friend? @jetaime-jespere you inspire and support me in so many ways. 10/10 would recommend being her friend.

This story, of puppy kisses, margaritas, and tooth-rotting domestic!Hotchniss is just for you.

Read on AO3

Emily always had a knack for caring and nurturing.

The house plants in their home were all bright green, a hobby she had gotten from JJ after too many nights spent fussing over Jack. Jack had seemingly grown up in the blink of an eye - far from the toddling two year old that Aaron had first brought into the office, his steps uneven and hand tightly wrapped around Aaron's finger. He was now almost 17, finally starting to grow into the long, gangly limbs he had no doubt inherited from his father. He was a great kid, but no doubt a teenager now, complete with the home-grown embarrassment for his parents' PDA and a sense of false confidence that he knew better than his parents' combined 80 years of experience.

Jack was starting to take charge of his own schedule, planning out his soccer and baseball practices and time with his girlfriend and was now rarely at home outside of eating dinner and sleeping. Sometimes, they liked to joke that their home was more of a hotel, only utilized for meals and a warm bed.

"He's grown up so fast, Aaron." Emily had lamented, curling a warm leg around his as they listened to Jack pitter around the kitchen before school. Emily had a rare day of no meetings, her new job as Section Chief agreeing well with a more attainable home life balance. Aaron had been teaching at the Academy for two years now and he didn't have his first class until 2 PM, granting the two of them a morning spent lazing in bed while Jack fended for himself before school.

He was old enough to drive now and have a girlfriend, and that fact took Aaron's breath away every time.

Aaron remembers when Jack was born, a wriggly screaming bundle of joy that entered the world with the loudest wail Aaron thought he'd ever heard. Now, he was driving, sending applications to colleges, and in a relationship with a nice girl.

He had grown up so fast.

Now, both of them had a plethora of time - time that used to be spent shuttling Jack from school, practice, and birthday parties between cases, making sure that his homework was fully done, PTA meetings (which Emily insisted on being a part of) and coordinating Jack's schedule with precision, slotting in play dates and trips to the mall to buy new khakis because he shot up like a weed.

All the time spent taking care of Jack, now exchanged for hours searching for different plants and nurturing them until their home was an urban jungle.

So Aaron starts doing some research while Emily is asleep, hoping to bring something a little more difficult than plants to take care of.

Before their entire home had turned into a greenhouse.

The house was quiet, too quiet, when Emily arrived home from a day spent in meetings discussing budgets. She was exhausted and would do anything for a glass of red and a foot massage from her loving husband.

"Aaron? I'm home." She calls out, shucking her shoes and purse by the front door.

There was silence that permeated from the house, followed by a sharp yelp from what she can decipher is Jack.

"Jack? Aaron?" She calls out again, following the source of the sound only to be met by an out-of-breath Aaron.

"Hi honey." He says, his breathing heavy as he presses a kiss to her lips in greeting. She cocks an eyebrow suspiciously, glancing over his shoulder to see if Jack would pop out from their den.

"Hey. Is something the matter?"

"No, no. Nothing's the matter." Aaron says, shaking his head. He wrapped his hand around hers, a bright smile on his face and she couldn't help but feel lucky that this is where they had ended up. Married, raising Jack together in a row house in Dupont Circle. Now Jack was nearly an adult - their duties as his parents were slowly dwindling down to providing advice and making sure he made the right decisions.

On those days, when she and Aaron are left in the empty rooms of their house, devoid of Jack's sounds of make believe as he pretended to be an astronaut or a G-Man like his father, she can't help but let a small pang of regret hit her.

She didn't know how much joy she would derive from being his step-mother, and a small part of her wishes that she and Aaron had created a brood of their own.

But it wasn't part of their journey, and she was okay with that.

"I have a surprise for you. Look, I know we've never talked about it..." Aaron starts to ramble, leading her to the den at the back of the house as her confusion grows.

He stops right by the closed door, hearing the shuffling going on on the other side of the door.

"But you're an amazing mother to Jack and I know that he's leaving for college soon. I don't want our house to be quiet."

"Aaron..." She says cautiously. "What did you do?"

The den door swings open, revealing Jack with a bright smile on his face and a small bundle in his arms. The tiny ball of fluff makes a soft mewl in Jack's arms, popping its tiny head up to reveal long floppy ears and the sweetest eyes she thinks she's ever seen. Aaron smiles, dropping her hand to pick up the puppy in Jack's arms and drop it right into hers.

There's a tiny jingle and her fingers brush against cold metal, reaching down to reveal the tag that hung around the puppy's collar.

Finn Hotchner

"This is Finn."

It turns out, despite all the research that Aaron had done for puppy rearing, it was still much harder than they had anticipated.

Emily groans as she hears a sharp whine come from their living room, where they had set-up Finn's crate. Aaron was adamant about them crate training Finn, despite the fact that Emily and Jack would have been fine letting Finn sleep with them in their beds.

This was the third, no maybe the fourth time, that night that he had whined in his crate like he had been abandoned on the side of the road instead of sleeping next to their fireplace.

Aaron pops up a sleepy head, eyes blearily adjusting to the faint moonlight streaming from the window and glances as the neon numbers that shone on his bedside table.

5:30 AM

"Good God, does he ever sleep?" Aaron groans as Emily let out a large yawn, patting a soft hand on Aaron's shoulder to tell him to go back to sleep.

"I've got him." Emily says as Aaron sinks back under the covers, quickly drifting back to sleep as Emily rolls her eyes and throws on her robe. She pads out into the living room, her soft footsteps enough to catch Finn's attention and get his cries to stop.

"Hey sweet boy." She coos, letting him out of his crate as he pattered out, his limbs still floppy at 10 weeks as he let out a large yawn, Emily's heart melting as he curled up by her ankles. He was clearly just desperate for attention.

More specifically, desperate for her attention.

Finn had latched on to her, claiming her as his human the moment Aaron had placed him in her arms almost three weeks ago. The puppy was always quick to dart to Emily when she came home, eager to expose his belly to her for pets after a long day at work. He followed her around at home, hearing the soft tapping of his paws against their hardwood floor as she cooked dinner or made coffee in the morning. He curled up right at her feet in her office as she worked through mountains of paperwork, content on sleeping right at her feet as she filled out reports.

"Come on." She coaxes, moving from her spot by his crate to let him out into their back garden.

The sun was softly breaking in the horizon, the long summer days already evident by the soft light that streaked the sky. Finn zoomed out onto the grass, quickly tripping over the limbs he still didn't have much control over and Emily let a small smile play on her lips.

After the initial shock of the fact that they now had a dog, despite almost no previous discussion prior, Emily found herself completely enamored with the puppy. She found herself thinking of the tiny ball of fluff often, taking time out of her day to check the camera they had installed in their living room to see what he was up to when they were at work (it was mostly sleeping) and watched with a fond smile as Aaron let him out during lunch. He would crouch down, despite the hell she was sure it caused on his knees that were now worn with age and trauma, and play tug with Finn or attempt to train him in what would only cause frustration for both of them.

She had always seen the softness that lined Aaron's interactions, despite the steely demeanor that had hardened like calluses after too many tragedies. But she saw the gentle way in which he raised Jack, always insistent on talking and sharing - a far cry from the slamming doors and harsh hits that were consequences of his father's temper. She felt it in the way his hands drifted to her lower back when he felt a need for connection. She heard it in the soft tones that he'd use when talking to children, a sparkle in his eye as he interacted with them.

It had filled her heart with a new measure of love she didn't think was possible, watching him soften to Finn in a way she never expected.

Aaron yawns, stretching his limbs to ease the sleep from them when he realizes that his wife's side of the bed had gone cold. He glances up at the clock and realizes it had been almost two hours since Emily had gotten up to let Finn out. A bloom of warmth grows in his chest when he realizes where they could probably be.

He finds her on their couch, stretched across in a deep slumber as Finn dozed quietly on her chest. It was a position he had found her in often, Finn always opting to sleep anywhere where he was physically touching Emily.

Another Hotchner wrapped around her finger.

When Emily is jolted from sleep by a loud clink, the warmth of Finn is nowhere to be found. She props herself up, sounds slowly coming into focus and she can hear the sounds of Aaron's soft whispering and a familiar scratching of utens. There's the sweet aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and she follows the scent to catch Aaron red-handed.

Aaron is reading the paper on the counter, not noticing Emily walk in, and slips a small piece of his bacon to Finn who is sitting patiently by his side.

When she chastises him, he just laughs and passes her the cup of coffee he prepares for her on Saturday mornings.

"This is the only way I can get him to love me, Em."

As it turns out, having a puppy was a little too similar to having a baby.

Their days now revolved around Finn - their sleep schedules were disrupted by crying in the middle of the night, their daily list of tasks including someone having to be home to let him out every three hours whether it be them or a pet sitter and on top of Aaron’s classes and Emily’s workload. It had only been a month since they had gotten Finn and they were exhausted.

Emily had never had a dog and Aaron had never grown up with any animals, so both of them severely underestimated the amount of work that went into keeping a tiny ball of fluff alive and healthy.

Aaron finds her in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with relief on her face at the silence she worked so hard to cultivate amidst the chaos.

“He finally passed out.” Emily whispers and Aaron eyes the puppy who is sleeping peacefully in his crate after being forced in for a nap.

He produces a margarita from behind his back, salt lining the rim.

“I knew I married you for a reason.” She says happily, taking a grateful sip and moaning in delight as the sweet liquid hit her tongue and the tequila stung her throat. He clinked his own glass of whiskey to hers before taking a seat next to her, both of them needing the alcohol after weeks of sleep deprivation and tending to Finn’s every need.

“I think we’re getting too old for this.” Emily muses, watching Finn shift in his sleep.

“I don’t know about you, but I feel young and spry.” Aaron jokes, pressing his lips to her shoulder as she takes another sip of her margarita. His lips slowly trail from her shoulder, dancing across her collarbone before settling at the base of her neck. He feels Emily tilt her head slightly to expose more of her skin to him and a breathy moan escape from her lips.

“So this is why you made me a margarita.” Aaron knew that certain kinds of alcohol produced different reactions from Emily. Wine always made her sleepy, whiskey always made her angry.

Tequila, on the other hand, made her very mouthy.

“I just thought my beautiful wife deserved a drink.” He mumbles into her skin, taking the glass from her hand and placing their drinks on the console table behind them. “Also because Jack is sleeping over at Tyler’s tonight and Finn is finally asleep.”

It was the first free night they had in a while, out of earshot of their very perceptive teenage son and Aaron thought that deserved some sort of celebration, one that hopefully involved making her scream and not caring who heard.

“So no ulterior motives?” She teases, but Aaron’s lips are very persistent against the pulse in her throat.

“None whatsoever.”

They barely make it back to their bedroom, clothes hastily strewn against the carpeted bedroom floor with Emily’s legs straddled across his waist and his fingers dancing across her underwear when he hears it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aaron groans when a familiar high-pitched whine comes from the living room. They freeze like two teenagers caught by their parents, hoping that the whine would just be Finn waking up for a brief moment before going back to sleep.

It isn’t long before Finn’s wailing at the top of his tiny lungs and Emily giggles, hopping off his lap as Aaron flops dramatically back onto their bed.

“It’s your turn.” Emily says, pushing Aaron towards the direction of their door as he pouts like a petulant child. Aaron grumbles as he goes towards the living room, slightly annoyed when Finn bounds out of his crate like he hadn’t just interrupted the one solitude moment that they’ve had in over a month.

“Kid, I could kill for less than this.”

Finn slides into their family like the final piece of a puzzle they didn't know was missing.

He quickly becomes Jack's best friend, chasing him around in the garden and attaching himself to Jack’s hip when he was home. When Jack leaves for college a year after they get Finn, Emily finds him on Jack’s bed, a sullen look in Finn’s eyes at the profound absence of his playmate.

Aaron finds an unusual confidant in Finn. There are nights that are difficult, the memories of Foyet amplifying the phantom ache in his chest, especially when Jack graduates high school and when he gets accepted into both Georgetown and Yale.

He raises Jack to grow up just fine and he still hates, even after all these years, that Haley wasn’t around to see the kind of man Jack has become. Despite losing Haley at such a young age, too many of Jack’s mannerisms made him believe that he could have only gotten those traits through genetics. The way his left eyebrow twitched when he got angry, one of Haley’s tells when she was beginning to lose her temper. Jack fidgeted with a pen, clipped between his fingers, the same way Haley did when she was concentrating on a test back when she first caught his attention at 16.

On those nights, he steals away to the kitchen and sips a fingerful of whiskey. It was a habit he’d developed years before, a quiet moment just for himself. He was used to doing it alone.

Until they had Finn. He remembers the first time Finn had done it, a floppy 6 month old with disproportionate limbs and an attitude that was driving both him and Emily crazy.

He could only ruin so many of their expensive leather shoes before they had a problem with it.

It had been the night of Jack’s graduation and Aaron poured himself his whiskey, raising a glass to an empty kitchen with a hollow ache in his chest on days like today.

On days that she should have gotten to see.

“We did it, Haley.”

Finn had walked in then, intrigued by the clinking of the glasses that was coming from the kitchen. It was as if he sensed the sadness that lived in Aaron, walking up to give gentle licks to his palm and refusing to leave Aaron’s side as he sat at the dining room table nursing his drink.

He hasn’t spent a night in the kitchen without Finn since.

But despite the fact that they knew that Finn loved all of them, Jack and Aaron both knew that there was something special about the way that Finn loved Emily.

Finn was her shadow - always glued to her side whenever she was around. He often favored Emily’s company on the couch over anyone’s, huffing in disapproval when Aaron would come over to sit next to Emily. He was a constant presence in any room that Emily was in, either laying at her feet or pressed up against her somehow. They had often joked that Finn would choose Emily over boiled chicken, which aside from Emily was Finn’s greatest love.

When Elizabeth dies, suddenly and with no warning, Emily is inconsolable. She had always wished that their relationship was better than it was, despite the fact that it had improved in spades as the years went on. But it didn’t stop her from wishing for just one more day with her mother.

Finn is steadfast by her side from the moment she finds out. They all hovered over her, but Finn was practically tied by an invisible tether to Emily, refusing to let her leave his sight. He stays still when she cries into his fur on a quiet afternoon, grief heavy in the air. He licks the tears from her face and lays on her lap when their house is full of guests giving their condolences. He doesn’t bark at Aaron, like he normally did when he was hugging Emily, and instead lets her find comfort in his arms.

“Emily? Have you seen Finn?” She hears Aaron call out from their kitchen. She glances around their office and is about to call out that he wasn’t with her when she hears a loud crash and an exasperated Finn Hotchner.

She opens her office door to find Finn staring up at her, his fur caked in dirt with a trail of mud tracked on their hardwood floor. Jack comes into view, home from college for the summer, with a sheepish smile on his face. They had probably played with the hose in the garden - one of Finn’s favorite past times on hot days. She can hear Aaron yelling expletives in the kitchen and she simply bursts into laughter.

This was her family.

Mud on hardwood floors and all.

And she wouldn't change them for the world.

#hotchniss #aaron x emily #ckbwrites #literally i love you and your writing i can't believe you let me be friends with you #happy birthday sweet girl

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet (2)

Warnings: this series will be a shorter one and will include blood/blood kink, cutting, noncon, and other triggers to be warned in future parts. (This chapter includes cutting, blood, knives, and noncon)

This features Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and is explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Notes:

Here’s part two. I dunno when the next update will be but it’ll be on the long list of to dos.

Leave a comment if you like but it's never a demand. I hope you are all safe and healthy. <3 Love you.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

One leg over the other, thumb in your mouth, your phone in your other hand. You once more sat impatiently in Stark Tower. You checked again. No texts. Steve hadn’t answered you since lunchtime but he said he’d see you after work.

“He’s got you waiting again, doll?” Bucky’s voice made you flinch. You pushed your shoulders back and dropped your hand from your mouth.

“Oh, hey,” you said and swallowed the lump in your throat. “You again.”

He smiled as he neared and you leaned back as you expected him to pass you by. He didn’t. Instead, he sat in the chair across from you and sighed. He pushed his legs apart as his fingers curled atop his thighs and he squared his shoulders. He settled in as if he had been on his feet all day and watched you squirm.

“I just saw Steve. He was with Tony. Said he’s gonna be a while.” Bucky said, “But I can let him know you’re here.” The corner of his mouth twitched, “If it was me, I’d sure be hurrying to get out of here.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I can wait.” You crossed your arm across your stomach and clutched your phone with your other hand. How could he act so normal when you felt as if you would vomit on the floor? His words loomed in your mind; “you taste delicious.”

“He’s a lucky guy to have you always waiting around for him.” Bucky’s fingers slipped to the seam along his inner thigh and he rubbed the denim.

“Mhmm,” you nodded and looked down the hall.

“Your hand,” his eyes flitted to the hand around your phone.

“All better.” You said curtly. “Just a scar now.”

“Mmmmm,” he gave a drawn out hum, “That’s good.”

He stood and you slumped as he came to sit beside you. A shiver crawled up your spine as his weight caused the chair to knock against yours.

“What are you--” Your voice lodged in your voice as he reached over and drew your hand over to him.

He wiggled your phone from your grasp and placed it between his legs. He turned your hand over and his thumb traced the line across your palm.

“It’s not so bad.” He remarked. “Scars show character… suffering.”

“Bucky,” you tried to tug your hand back, “I don’t think--”

“Here,” He pulled your hand and placed it on his chest. You felt the firm muscle and the beating of his heart. “I caught a piece of shrapnel in the Netherlands. You can barely see it anymore but it’s there. And here,” He moved your palm to his neck, “Look close and you’ll see where Hydra put the needle. A long mean thing. The sedative didn’t always work.”

“Please, let go of me,” you said quietly.

“And here,” he pressed your hand to his stomach, “Some mission in Austria in the 70s. They wiped my mind but not the scars. The scars help me remember what they took from me.”

“Please…” you gasped weakly.

“Here,” he pushed your hand down to his thigh, “Barely missed the artery…”

“Stop.” You snatched your hand back and your phone clattered to the floor.

Bucky bent to grab it as you watched fearfully. He held it out to you calmly and as you took it, you heard footsteps just around the corner.

“Don’t tell me you’re over here playing with knives again.” Sam chuckled as he strode towards you. “Steve told me to keep an eye out. I always told him not to trust the dude with the fairgrounds claw for an arm with sharp objects but what do I know?”

“Sam,” Bucky sniffed and stood slowly. “Took you long enough.”

“Only when you’re waiting on me,” Sam winked.

You smiled at Sam and avoided looking at Bucky. You grasped your phone between your hands unsure of what to say or do. You wanted to say something; to blow the whistle but somehow you didn’t feel like anyone would believe you. So you forced a laugh and reached for your purse.

“I’m just gonna go.” You hooked the strap over your shoulder, “Steve just texted. He’s gonna be late.”

You brushed past them and tried not to seem too eager to be away. You waited by the elevator and didn’t let out your breath until the metal doors closed behind you. You braced yourself against the wall and slowly raised your cell. You opened up your conversation with Steve.

‘Sorry, babe, headed home to get some extra work done. Wait for you there. Love you.’

The lie was more believable as you reread it. You tucked your phone away and resigned yourself to a train ride home. Yet, even as you left Stark Tower, you could not escape Bucky’s shadow. What he’d said, what he’d done, what you’d fought so hard to deny, could not be ignored any longer. But how would you tell Steve? How could you?

🩸

As you got home, sure to lock the door behind you, you hung up your purse and your phone vibed in your back pocket. You slid it out as you wiggled free of your shoes and leaned against the table as you read the message. It was Steve; ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Meant to text you first. Tony’s keeping me late.’

You sent a frowny face and your phone buzzed again with his quick response. ‘Don’t think that means I won’t be home in time to turn that frown upside down’. You giggled at his cheesy response but the emojis sent in succession assured you of the real meaning of his words.

You took your phone with you and flopped onto the couch. You turned on the television and yawned as your cell rested on the cushion beside you. It didn’t take long for you to forget the day and lose yourself in the episodic comedy.

It was close to an hour before your phone shook again. You didn’t look at it at first as you lazed across the couch. You dug the cell out from under you and swiped the lock screen away. Another message from Steve.

‘Put something nice on, sweetheart ;P’

You shook your head at the text and sent a coy emoji in response.

‘That’s an order from your captain.’ He rebuked in the next message.

Your lips parted. ‘Well, how long are you gonna be?’ You typed quickly.

‘A while. :/ But you can give me a taste while you wait for me.’

‘A taste?’

‘You know what I want.’

You ran your fingertips over your lip and felt the warmth nestle in your pelvis. You hated when he did this; it made your hours apart even more difficult. Yet it was always worth it. You rolled onto your stomach and steadied your phone. You undid the top of your blouse and lifted yourself on one arm. You took a photo of your cleavage and hit send.

‘Something like this?’ You teased.

‘You haven’t changed yet. Bad girl.’

You blinked at the last two words. Steve was flirty but he was rarely so demanding, more needy. You sat up and chewed your lip.

‘Well, it might take me some time to choose.’ You smirked as you sent it.

‘You have two minutes.’

‘Two minutes? or what?’

‘Do you really want to find out?’

You were unsure what to reply with. You stared at your phone and another message popped up. ‘90 seconds’.

You hopped up from the couch and nearly tripped. You typed as you walked blindly to the bedroom. ‘Yes, sir.’

You tossed your phone on the bed and tore open your dresser. You shuffled through your intimates and pulled out the first thing you got a grasp on. You had yet to wear the white number as you favoured the red and black pieces more. You stripped as you phone vibrated on the mattress and struggled to get into the sheer babydoll and untangle the matching thong.

You grabbed your phone and flipped it over. Steve’s countdown filled the chat and you quickly poked at the screen. ‘All done!’

‘Well?’ was his only reply.

You laughed at yourself and opened the camera. You stretched your arm out and looked for and angle. You took a photo from above as you pushed out your chest and pouted. You sent and waited anxiously for a response. You paced until your phone went off again.

‘I want to see all of you.’

You looked around and placed the phone on a pillow against the headboard. You balanced it carefully and set the timer. You hit the button and posed. It took several tries before you were happy and you sent it off.

The emoji response was all you needed. There was a brief lull and your phone went off again. ‘Fuck it. I’m on my way.’

You smiled at the phone and replied, ‘Better be quick or I might finish on my own.’

You set aside your phone and fidgeted restlessly. You weren’t sure what to do until he got there. You sat on the bed and scrolled through your social media but couldn’t think of much else than the pulsing between your legs. It had been a long week and Steve had been distracted and you had been spacey.

As you struggled to keep yourself busy with a mobile game with too many ads, you heard the door. The lock clicked back into place and you listened for the footsteps. But they were quiet and almost indiscernible. Convinced that you might have imagined the noise, you stood as a figure appeared in the door. It wasn’t Steve.

You stopped short as a grin slowly spread across Bucky’s face. He tilted his head as he watched you cross your arms over your lingerie and shy away.

“What are you doing here?” You asked breathlessly as you reached for your robe hung over the chest against the wall.

“Don’t,” he said, “Come on, let me get a look at you.” He leaned on the doorframe. “Pictures don’t do you any justice.”

“What are you--” you hissed as you grabbed the silk robe and glanced over at him. He waved Steve’s phone and dropped it on the dresser just inside the door.

“Looks like someone lost their phone.” He said, “Now…” He reached to his belt and unsnapped the strap of the sheath that held his large kabar, “Put the robe down, doll.”

“What--” You gave a nervous laugh, “Okay, Bucky, it’s not funny anymore. You need to go.”

“Do I?” He slowly drew out his knife.

“You’re not going to…” You watched the blade as he spun the knife easily. “You wouldn’t.”

“Only if you make me… but I wouldn’t mind another taste,” he admired the metal then his blue eyes found you again. “Come on. Sit.” He pointed to the end of the bed as he broke the threshold. “Here.”

“Steve. If he finds out, he’ll--”

“You think he’ll believe you.” His face turned stony. “Hmm? And if he does, do you think I won’t cut your tongue out?”

You gulped. The robe fluttered to the floor as you gaped at him. He wiggled the blade at the foot of the mattress and cleared his throat impatiently. You trembled as you crossed the room. You sat gingerly and watched him stalk closer.

The blade touched your cheek and ran down under your chin. He dragged it along your neck and rested it between your tits that threatened to spill out. You cowered before him as he sliced through the sheer fabric of the baby doll and exposed your stomach.

“I like this. You like to dress up, huh?” He asked.

You clenched your jaw and he slid the kabar under the left strap of the lingerie.

“Answer me, doll.” He warned as he snapped the fabric.

“Yes,” you uttered. “Bucky, please… why?”

“Because… I want to.” He smiled and cut the other strap. The fabric hung below your chest as it fell loose, the cups flipping down against your stomach. “Now, if I have to cut you, you’re going to have to be real convincing so let’s not do that… yet.”

You shuddered. Your mouth was dry and your throat tight. You chest squeezed as you stared up at him.

“It’s up to you, doll,” he poked your shoulder lightly with the kabar, “Can I put this away?”

You glanced down and watched the light shine off the blade. You could see it now, with a little pressure it would sink into your flesh. Your lip quivered and you nodded as you looked up at him.

“Yes, put it away,” you murmured, “Please.”

Content, he licked his lips and rescinded the knife. He slipped it back into the sheath and slid it back on his belt. He looked over you and you bent your arms to hide your chest. He shook his head and flicked your wrist.

“No need to be shy, doll,” he coaxed and unbuckled his belt. “I’m sure as hell not.”

He bit his lip as he undid his fly and rubbed the bulge along the front of his jeans. He groaned and stepped closer to you.

“Go on,” he nodded at himself.

You blinked at him. Your mouth opened and closed dumbly. You looked at his crotch and your arms fell from your chest. He tickled your cheek with his metal fingertips and inhaled deeply.

You touched the elastic of his briefs. You were shaking. You hooked your fingers under and pulled the fabric out. Your vision blurred as you uncovered him from beneath cotton and his thick cock bobbed before you. You rolled his underwear down with his jeans, just to his thighs. You stilled, unable to go on.

“Don’t tease me, doll,” he growled and grabbed the back of your head. “You are painfully good at that.”

You winced and touched his dick. It twitched and you wrapped your fingers around him entirely. You stroked him carefully and he groaned as his fingers caressed your scalp. He purred as your hand slid along his length and he drew you closer and closer.

“I want your mouth,” his hand snaked down to your chin and he rubbed your lip with his thumb.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. He retracted his hand and pulled yours away from his dick. He gripped himself and grabbed your shoulder as he prodded your lips with his tip. You clamped your lips shut and looked up at him pleadingly. His eyes were smokey and unrelenting.

“Don’t make me tell you twice.” He rasped.

You closed your eyes and opened your mouth. Your lips stretched around his thick cock as he pushed inside and shuddered at the sensation. His hand went to your head again and he forced himself to your throat. You gagged but he barely seemed to notice as he plunged to his limit.

You could hardly breathe around him. Your throat contracted as you struggled for air and he held himself deep in your throat. His hands came up on either side of your head and his fingers swirled against your scalp. He groaned, long and low.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “Shit.”

He bucked his hips and you slapped at his forearm. He chuckled and did it again. Spit began to gather around his dick and coated your lips. Your head pounded as he thrust into you sharply. He dropped a hand down to your chest and groped your tit as his other kept your head against him.

You grasped at the front of his shirt as he fucked your face. Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back. You were dizzy from the lack of air and the steady rhythm of his dick sliding in and out of your throat.

“Doll, you’re so good,” he uttered and pinched your nipple, “So fucking good.”

He slammed into you and sent ripples down your spine. He spasmed and let out a brutish grunt as he gripped your jaw and the back of your head. You flailed helplessly as his voice rose around you and a sudden salty wave exploded down your throat and flooded your mouth.

“Fuck,” he slowed and twitched as slipped out of your mouth. He let you go and fell back on the bed as a ribbon of spit and sweat hung down your chin and you coughed up more.

He was adamant as he shoved your legs apart over the edge of the bed. You moaned as wiped your lips as you swallowed the last drops of cum. You nearly wretched and rubbed your throat shakily. You tried to close your legs but he quickly moved between them.

His thumb dragged along the thin crotch of your thong. He circled your clit and flicked so that you winced. You squeaked as he pressed more firmly and felt the satin slicken with your arousal.

You were humiliated and terrified. You reached up and looked at your phone on the night table. If you could get to it, what would you even say?

“Look at you,” he pulled the pants aside and slid his metal fingers along your fold, “You look so sweet.”

“Bucky,” your thighs tensed against him and he pinched you. “Please, no more…”

“You’re begging me to stop,” he played with your cunt with two fingers, “But I just don’t believe it.”

He pushed his thick vibranium digits inside of you without warning. He turned his hand as he slid deeper and rested his thumb against your clit. You cried out and your legs bent against the bed as you clutched at the duvet beneath you.

“You want it,” he moved his fingers in and out as he pressed down on your bud, “Just listen to you.”

You covered your face at the wet sounds of your cunt. He pushed deeper and curled his fingers and the heel of his hand replaced his thumb against your clit. He rocked his hand as his other traced the line of your pelvis. You clenched your teeth as a knot tied inside of you, pulling tighter and tighter and your skin buzzed.

“Come on, doll, almost there,” he moved his hand faster and you exclaimed. “Good girl, so close… so easy.”

He shook your entire body as he fingered you and the string inside you snapped. Your head lolled as you whined and you pushed your feet against his thighs. You felt a gush around his hand and he quickly released your clit and turned his hand as he covered it with his tongue instead. His fingers didn’t relent as he lapped you up and you rode out your orgasm against his face.

He didn’t stop. He kept his mouth on your clit and suckled as your thighs tingled. He shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. You were so full and overwrought, you could not help another orgasm as your walls clench around his fingers. He tried another and you whimpered. He removed his pinky again and groaned.

“Hmmm,” he purred as he replaced his thumb against your clit, “We have to loosen you up, doll.”

“Bu--” Your voice crackled and died in your throat as you came again. Again, he licked up your arousal and nuzzled your cunt as he slowly withdrew his hand.

“I’m trying to decide,” he lifted his head and stood clumsily. The stubble along his jaw glistened, his lips too. “You got such a pretty face but your ass…” He thought aloud as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You watched him undress as the haze kept your vision cloudy and reality seemed distant. You turned onto your side and clapped your thighs around your hand as echoes of pleasure flowed through you. Bucky’s thick muscle made you bite your lip as he stepped out of his jeans.

Your eyes found the scars across his flesh; those he had mentioned and others he hadn’t. Naked he bent and fished around beneath his jeans. You flinched at the whisper of metal. You murmured fearfully and sat up. You were dizzy and unable to get further than the foot of the bed.

“It’s okay, doll,” he cooed as he lifted the metal to his chest, “Just a little blood.”

He cut between his pecks, a red line left in the stead of his blade. He shivered and lowered the knife. He placed it behind him on the dresser as blood slowly seeped from the slice. He neared the bed and you pushed yourself away from him. He caught your ankle and dragged you to him as he climbed up.

“Come here,” he pulled you up as he sat on his heels and forced your legs around him. He took your hand and placed it against the gash. He dragged it across chest and smeared the blood in a sickly streak to his shoulder. “Can you feel me?”

You trembled as he kept you against him, his cock prodded you from below as turned your hand away from him. He bent all but two of your fingers and pushed them against your lips.

“Taste me,” he growled.

You shook your head dully and he pushed your fingers harder against your mouth. You parted your lips and the metallic flavour made your stomach flip. He shoved his fingers in over your and held them against your tongue.

His other hand slid along your ass and he lifted you slightly as he poked around blindly with his cock. His tip met your entrance and he eased you down. He impaled you and spread his fingers across your ass. As you settled atop him, he smacked you, hard, and curled his fingers over your own.

“How do I taste, doll?” He dropped his hand at last and your own fell with it. You stared at him aghast and he hugged you against him as he tilted his hips. “Tell me I taste good.”

He rocked below you and you moaned at the fullness. His hot blood spread along your chest as it leaked between your bodies. You resisted a tide of revulsion and swallowed the iron on your tongue.

“You…” you croaked, “...taste… good.”

He lifted you and pulled you back down sharply so your flesh clapped against his. You let out a cry of surprise and he did it again. He bounced you atop him and brought your arm around his neck, squeezing your upper arm as he nuzzled your neck.

“That’s it doll. I feel it.” He snarled, “You fit me so well.”

You mewled as you felt as if you would split in two. He was as big as Steve, maybe thicker, but you suspected it was more than that. He was rough where Steve was gentle, demanding where Steve was coaxing.

He fell onto you and pinned you to the mattress below him. He lifted your right leg and then your left, curling your body as he gripped your ankles against his shoulders. The lines of his stomach were limned in his blood and your own was painted red. He raised himself on his knees and carefully planted his feet. He kept your ass in the air as he hammered into you, your shoulders sinking into the mattress as your weight settled on your neck.

He dipped into you and his metal hand stretched over your pelvis and his thumb flicked your clit. He sped up as you reached out with your arms to ease the pressure in your neck and shoulders, the noise of your flesh was sickening and the smell of blood more so. He gripped your thigh with his other hand and sank his nail into your flesh.

You bit your lip and muffled the pathetic cry of pleasure that rose from your core. Your climaxed violently and convulsed against him, your body contorted to his use. He curled you further and placed his hands on either side of your head. He jolted into you as his hot breath filled the space between you. He growled as he came and filled you with his release.

He stilled only as you felt his cum seeping out around his cock. He dropped back to his knees and your body went limp. He slid in and out of you a few times before he pulled out completely. He stirred his cum with his tip and breathed heavily through his nose.

He poked his finger inside of you suddenly and felt around. He buried himself to his knuckles and slowly drew back. Another gush of his cum dripped down your cunt and played with it as he smeared it along your folds and down your thighs.

He raised his hand to his lips and sucked his finger clean. He sighed as he moved to the edge of the bed and checked the time on your phone. He smirked as he stood and stretched. You rolled onto your side and watched him collect his clothes from the floor.

“What a mess you made,” he taunted as he dressed, “Better clean this up before your old man returns.” He buckled his belt and replaced his kabar in its sheath. He took Steve’s phone and tucked it in his back pocket. “I’ll give this back to him tomorrow. I got some cleaning up of my own to do.”

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #bloody and raw but I swear it is sweet #series #mcu #marvel captain americ

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dailydaydreamings · 3 years

Text

Best in the Worst Way, Chapter 10

Okay, I might have taken out some inner rage on this one. It mentions some pretty heavy stuff, like trauma and violence. There’s a big argument about sexuality. This one flips back and forth between the night the reader sleeps with the boys (chapter 5) and their mission. I’m seriously gonna try to lighten things up, pinky swear. Please enjoy ;) —K

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

1 Year Ago

“What the hell happened last night,” you demanded, pacing back and forth in Steve’s room.

After waking up beside a very naked Steve and Bucky after last nights party, you sprung from bed, starling both boys awake. Bucky was now sitting on the lounge next to Steve bed, his head in his hands. Steve laid against his headboard looking perplexed.

“I’m pretty sure you asked us to have sex with you,” Bucky said, running his hand down his face. He looked like he had the world worst hangover. “I remember thinking, yeah that’s a great idea. But I don’t remember when it turned into a threesome.”

You frowned, “I thought you couldn’t get drunk.”

Steve shook his head, “We were drinking that stuff that Thor brings. I think we drank a lot of it.”

Bucky suddenly lurched forward, looking very green, “This is my first hangover since the 40s’, I might hurl. Don’t bring that stuff up again.”

You closed your eyes, they were useless. “Just to confirm, we had sex? I don’t remember anything after the gala.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah we definitely did...”

You groaned, “For shit’s sake, I’ve wanted to have sex with the two of you for a year and I can’t even remember it! Was it good?”

Bucky turned his head to look at you sideways, “First of all, how are you not hungover? You were pounding them back faster than us without enhancements. Second, YOU wanted to have sex with BOTH of US?”

You purged your lips, poor choice of words, but you would stand behind it. “I have excellent genes, first of all. To your second question, I really didn’t apcare which of you I had sex with last night, as long as it was one of you. I really wasn’t expecting sex with TWO of you!” And honestly, it was relieving to know you had had sex with both of them and you still didn’t have to choose.

Bucky nodded, almost like he respected what you were saying. Like he too had had a couple of nights waking up in a predicament like this. But now that you thought about it, for all of the male Avengers, there were only four you had never had to get their one nightstands to sign non-disclosure: Tony, Bruce, Scott, and Bucky. You’d even had to escort out one of Steve’s flings three months ago. You remembered a particular feeling of joy watching her sign the document, knowing she would never be returning.

But not Bucky, everyone else was having sex or had a reason not to be. There was no way he was a virgin, was there?

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Bucky interrupted your musing, directing his comment at Steve. “Nothing to say?”

Steve was looking both confused and pissed. Totally conflicted as to which emotion should take precedent. You watched his hands twisting in the sheets uncomfortably, “Its just that I’d never...you know...”

You and and Bucky exchanged a quick glance. “No,” you said. “We don’t?”

Steve rolled his eyes, and then whispered, “Never had sex with...” and then he coughed pointedly.

Frowning you asked, “More than one person at a time?”

Steve started to say something when Bucky stood, crossed his arms, and said, “No, he means he’s never had sex with a guy before.”

Steve’s sheepish look downward said enough.

Attempting to resolve some of the tension, you waved a hand, “It’s so not big deal, Steve. I’ve had sex with women. Sometimes it just happens, you know?”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to you, his jaw locking, “I’m not that guy. I’m not gay.”

“You weren’t exactly straight last night either,” Bucky snapped. You looked between the two of them, what happened last night. There was history here too, something you were missing.

You held up your hands defensively, “I never called you gay, Steve. I mean, there was still a woman involved last night, I’m assuming.” You looked at Bucky for clarity, he nodded. “I’m just saying, it’s okay. You don’t need to feel ashamed.”

Steve glared at the two of you, “Yeah, well, it’s never happening again.”

———

Bucky hated to admit it, but going on a mission with Steve was easy.

After the plane ride north, very far north, full of glares and silence, it was like slipping into a glove. No matter how angry they were with each other, they still worked well together. They had to when danger was involved. They were professional, afterall.

Even spare time in the safe house, at first it was cold and awkward, but the very first night, Bucky had a nightmare. He woke screaming to find Steve upstanding over him, shaking him gently. Before Bucky could say anything, Steve climbed into bed beside him, and wrapped an arm around Bucky, like how Bucky needed after a bad nightmare.

And so, things went back to how they used to be, slowly. Bucky made breakfast in the morning and Steve said, “Did you really love Bridgerton or was it just me?”

Bucky smirked, crisping up the bacon, and said, “We watched the whole season in one weekend.”

The thing about this mission, it was boring. There wasn’t a lot of action, just waiting in case it happened on the basis of a really good tip, apparently. Bucky was seriously beginning to think it was a load of crap.

So, during the days they did recon, and when they could, they hung out and caught up at the safe house. At first, it was like old times, pre-relationship. Your name didn’t come up once, they didn’t talk about the babies. Bucky terrified to bring it up and burst whatever bubble they had created.

Then, Bucky was making dinner one night, and Steve walked up behind him and kissed the back of his neck...one thing led to another and they found themselves wrapped in sheets, lazing a couple of hours later. Bucky had an arm over his head, watching the still ceiling fan and he muttered, “What the hell, Steve?”

Steve propped himself up on his elbow to observe Bucky, “What do you mean?”

Bucky glared at him, “You know what I mean. Y/n tells us she’s pregnant. You go awol. You ask her to leave me and get an abortion. You see the babies, you want back into our lives. You spend weeks wooing her and ignoring me. And now what?”

Steve sighed, “I just, I can’t see her being part of my life any more, Buck. She doesn’t want me. And I don’t want to lose you, you’re my best friend and I love you. And I want these babies, and I don’t know, I guess the last couple of days, playing house...I just got thinking, we could raise these kids, together.”

Bucky sat up in bed, quickly at that. Was Steve really asking what Bucky was thinking, for him to leave you and raise the twins without you?

“First of all, that’s never going to fucking happen,” Bucky snapped, reaching for his shirt on the floor. “I’d never leave her and you’d never play the part of the gay guy, I know you. You can’t be who you are.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “And you’d be okay playing the throuple game? You really think people would be okay with that? Captain America and the Winter Soldier in, what did y/n call it? The super secret super soldier threesome?”

Bucky shook his head, reaching for his pants now. “Captain America,” he mused. “How far you’ve come, huh? Rather by the gay guy than a throuple? Do you know how shitty that would make y/n feel? Or how that makes me feel? You only wanted her back so you two could be the good American couple and you could have the babies in peace. Am I right?”

Bucky stood and saw Steve lowering his eyes. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to meet Bucky’s. “The two of you were always preaching to me it was my journey with how I wanted to come out as bi. Or if I wanted to come out. Maybe I don’t want to. It’s not up to you to shame me for my choices.”

Bucky just shook his head, “I’m just disappointed you don’t love us enough to try.”

———

1 Year Ago

The compound had a Starbucks, it was honestly a godsend. You got coffee there most of the time and it was the best place to get someone talking. Which is why, when you got a text from Bucky asking you to talk, you suggested it.

“What did you want to talk about?” You broached, sipping at your chai tea latte.

Bucky looked down at his plain, black coffee. “You’re the only one who knows what happened with Steve...and I just figured you might be the person to talk about...sex with?” He looked up at that, an eyebrow quirked slightly.

Steve had been avoiding the two of you in the week since the gala. It was just awesome, you loved the silent treatment.

To Bucky, you answered, “I’m more than comfortable talking about sex.” And you were probably a little too comfortable, if you were being honest with yourself, but Bucky didn’t need your detailed kill list.

Bucky nodded, “I figured, no offence.” You shrugged it off. “It’s just, I wanted to have sex with you ever since I met you. Honestly, I wanted more than sex, but this is where we are. Sex is not an easy thing for me...ever since, you know..everything.”

You reached across the table and gently took his hand. He cleared his throat, pointedly looking around. “The thing is, I’ve been in love with Steve since we were kids.”

Oh, you thought. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say at all. You were totally expecting some speak about being a virgin.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say aloud too, apparently. You kicked yourself internally for your awkwardness. “Okay...Bucky, I’m so sorry then.” You suddenly started to remember Steve’s reaction. He was pissed about having sex with another guy when he’d woken up beside them.

Bucky ducked his head, “I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from him. I hoped, that maybe, finally, he would...”

You placed a hand on your breaking heart, “He would feel the same,” you finished and Bucky nodded.

You looked down at your own drink, trying to think of the best thing to say. “I don’t know anything about being in love with another girl. I’m attracted to both but I’ve always loved men. I do know what it’s like to love someone so much it hurts, and to desperately want them to see you. I once kissed a guy I loved so much in front of everyone we knew, thinking it was some big romantic gesture, only to find out he had a girlfriend and I was the last to know.”

Bucky cracked a smile at that.

“Love sucks,” you concluded.

Bucky leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I hate feeling like I’m losing my best friend.”

You nodded, “He’ll come around. Either to accept you as first friend again, or to see things from your point of view.”

Bucky fiddled with his fingers slightly as he said, “Steve’s always been the more proper one. He follows the rules. I think he can accept me, but I can’t see him ever loving me like I love him.”

You reached across the table, one more time to wrap both your hands around his, “How do you know if you don’t talk to him?”

———

“Fuck you, Bucky!” Steve shouted, following Bucky out of the bedroom. “I’m offering you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Bucky stormed into the kitchen, he wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but it couldn’t involve Steve. He started searching for his cost as he snapped, “What I want has changed. I want her and you, this isn’t an either or situation.”

Steve slammed a hand into the counter, “You just want her because she’s having your baby. Admit it, if I’d offered you this before she got pregnant you would have jumped ship in a heartbeat.”

Bucky paused, sending a death glare at Steve. “What the fuck. I love her, Steve,” he said it almost calmly now. “Baby or not, I love her. She is the best part of my day, my biggest supporter, and takes my breath away every time I see her. I wouldn’t have jumped ship because the terms of our relationship involved three of us, not just you and me. She wasn’t my way to get to you, she as an independent part of this relationship.”

Steve’s face crumpled, as he leaned forward to press his face against the counter. “I don’t know how to do this, Buck. I thought I had everything when I went back to Peggy. I thought this life was over. I didn’t expect everything to just get harder.”

Bucky placed his hands in his hips. “Why do you make it so much harder than it has to be? My god, Steve, you were the skinny kid dying to go to war. You fought Hydra almost singlehandedly. You stood up to Tony Stark for me. And you’re afraid to let the world know you’re in a relationship with a man and a woman.” Steve flinched at those words. “Steve, babe, do you know how much joy you are keeping from yourself by being so afraid?”

Steve looked up, there were tears shinning in his eyes.

But Bucky wasn’t done, “You’re right Steve, this is your journey. If you don’t want to come out, that’s fine. You can be the cool uncle who hangs out all the time, or you can have shared custody and we’ll tell everyone I started sleeping with her later. But we could have a truly amazing life together, if you were just willing to give this thing a try.”

Steve clapped his hand together, a pained look on his face as he said, “Do you know what keeps me up at night, Buck? Any and every single story on the news about people getting beat to death for being gay or trans or different. It keeps me awake, I can see their faces. I can see their pain. Big old Captain America doesn’t have nightmares about Thanos or Ultron, but that. We as a species are so terrible to each other that we kill people because they choose to love.”

Bucky had tears running down his face. Steve’s jaw was clenched so tight he thought it might shatter. Bucky finally said quietly, “I didn’t know that, Steve.”

Steve reached up and aggressively wiped a tear away. “I just want to hide away and be happy together. I know we’re safe at the compound, I know we can defend ourselves. But what if some guy just decided to shoot you or y/n because you’re in some “abnormal” relationship?

Bucky reached for him then, “Babe, we can’t stop any of that from happening. But we can trust that we are well equipped to handle ourselves and take care of y/n and the babies. We can be okay. We can have a happy life, I promise.”

Steve let loose a long sigh and reached for Bucky. Their embrace was short lived, but for a second it was everything they needed. It said more than a thousand words could. It healed.

And then the explosion rocked the house.

———

After what could only be described as the world’s longest day of work, you hobbled towards your bedroom. You were so ready to get out of this stupid work dress and put on some sweats.

In your closet, you stripped down to nothing, and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. At 18 weeks, with twin super soldiers babies, you looked huge. You remembered when your friends had started getting pregnant, they hadn’t been nearly as big, and you were only going to get bigger.

You flattened your hand against your stomach, bringing it to cradle your bump. “Hello, little ones,” you mused, “you’ll be here soon enough. I guess that means mommy needs to stop waiting for daddy to make up your nursery, huh?”

You looked yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling rediculous. It wasn’t like you were really expecting an answer, were you? You were getting way too used to silence.

As you were pulling on your seats though, you felt a slight flutter. You paused. You’d felt some movement, but this was definitely a kick.

Shaking in disbelief, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down on the white bedspread, spreading your hands on either side of your belly.

“Okay, guys, I know you can hear me. Give mommy another kick, please.”

Nothing.

You gave your stomach a poke, “Come on, guys. Just one little kick for your mommy.”

Then you felt a nice, sharp kick by your ribs. Letting go a sharp breath, you smiled, “Nice one. Oh my god, your daddy is going to be so upset he missed this.”

You laughed. Because your babies were kicking, and they were kicking hard. And suddenly your bedroom seemed so much bigger and lonelier. And it wasn’t just Bucky who was missing this, it was also Steve. Who had just as much a right to feel these babies kick.

You wrapped an arm around your middle, solemnly, “When your daddies get home,” you emphasized the plural, “you’re gonna kick up a storm for them, okay? No matter how mad mommy is.”

So you started your nightly routine, you made dinner and watched a show and read your book. You were washing your face when your phone rang. Tony’s name flashed across the top.

You answered it on speaker, “Hey, what’s up?” You reached for your serum and started rubbing it in.

“You’re gonna need to come into the compound, right now.” Tony said from the other end.

You raised an eyebrow. No fucking way. You were going to bed, you were dressed for bed. You had a rough day already, anything else could wait till morning.

“Tony, you have given me scrap about taking it easy and sleeping and nothing working rediculous hours. It is ten o’clock on a Wednesday. I am going to bed.”

“Y/n,” Tony’s voice softened and you paused. “I need you to come in right now.”

You picked up your phone, pressing the FaceTime button. Suddenly you were face to face with a sheepish looking Tony Stark. You took a second to observe his face before saying, “Which one of them is dead?”

Tony let out a long breath and your heart constricted.

No, no, no. This could not be happening. Not on such a good night.

Tony finally said, “They’re not dead. Either of them.”

Suddenly you were on the floor, on a sob bubbling in your throat. Oh, thank god. Nothing else matter, they weren’t dead.

“Y/n, they’re in bad shape though,” Tony’s voice now sounded very, very far away. You tried to focus in on what’s he was saying, but all you could think was, they’re not fucking dead. “Y/n, they’re hurt and being transferred here and they’re asking for you.”

Tags

@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark

#steve x pregnant!reader #bucky x steve x reader #steve x reader #bucky x pregnant!reader #bucky x reader #stucky x pregnant!reader #stucky x reader #stucky #pregnant reader

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good-beanswrites · 2 years

Text

Wrote some context/drabble for my mermay art! This started as legit writing and by the end it devolved into indulgent trio loving hours with minimal editing so I’m sorry asdhfsjdf

The oars slid through the water. Forsyth’s little rowboat moved further into the darkness, away from the looming ship at his back. The strange object floated a fair distance ahead. None of the others had wanted to investigate, so they dumped the new recruit – that peasant from the harbor town who had begged to join just as they departed – into a rowboat to see if it was anything of interest.

Forsyth was glad to go. The past few days had been torture to endure: the other sailors were not terribly friendly to newcomers. It seemed they sought any opportunity they could to be rid of him. He breathed in the peacefulness. The sound of soft waves spread from horizon to horizon with rhythmic pacing. The moon and stars hung above in perfect stillness.

Therefore, Forsyth nearly leapt out of his boots when the voice whispered up from the sea. “Don’t go on.” It must have been just over the side, just out of sight. “There’s danger ahead.”

After taking a moment to regain his composure, he peered around the edge of the boat. His face lit up.

“Python!” He knew he’d recognized the voice. “What are you doing here?”

After marching off to join the crew, Forsyth assumed he’d go months without seeing his friend. The thought made him hesitate, but nothing would keep him from offering his services to those fighting off the vile pirates. He’d never become a knight himself – the least he could do was join this crew to make something of himself. He could still make a difference and fight for the people, even if sacrifices were necessary. He doubted Python would venture too far from the bay. It would have taken days of swimming to reach this part of the sea, and he wasn’t famous for putting in the extra effort. “I cannot believe it!”

“Yeah, well, here I am.” Python gave a mocking gesture to himself, as if it wasn’t much, but Forsyth couldn’t have been happier to see the familiar face. Even in the dim moonlight, his gray eyes and pouted lips looked beautiful.

No matter how unlikely their friendship seemed, it was the truest bond Forsyth had. Despite all the stories of vicious sea monsters and hungry serpents, Python had never been the type to do much more than lazing about the rocks in the quiet bay. In fact, Forsyth often commented that the whole siren thing was some elaborate jest – in all their years, he’d never heard him sing.

“Listen to me, you gotta stop that ship. The pirates up ahead are bad news.”

“They’ll never agree. The whole point of sailing out here was to seek out pirates! This is wonderful!”

“No-oo, not these guys.” Python grimaced, revealing pointed teeth. “There have been four ships ahead of yours, not one has come back in one piece. It isn’t that I don’t believe in ya,” he held up his palms at the other’s intense look, “but even if you guys stood a chance, I doubt your crew is gonna be lookin out for your ass.”

Forsyth should have been angry that he’d been eavesdropping the past few days, but Python wasn’t wrong. He continued. “So I say you turn that little thing around and we’ll head back, yeah?”

“Go back!?” Forsyth recoiled. “And be forever labeled a coward and a deserter? There is no worse reputation for a man!”

He moved to row the oars again, but Python grabbed one of them. “Hold on, hold on. Just hear me out, will ya?”

Shouts erupted from behind. Cries of alarm rang out onto the calm sea. Back on the ship, the crew waved frantically to Forsyth. They’d seen the sea serpent leaning on the edge of the rowboat.

Python cursed. “Alright, what if I told you there was a way to take all the blame off you? Would you come with me?” The crew was gathering together spears and fishing nets. It looked like they were preparing another rowboat.

“You have to go,” Forsyth shoved the siren away, ignoring his questions. “They’ll kill you!”

He only swam back a few feet from the boat. They’re gonna get you killed, Fors. I’m serious. I can’t just sit here and watch you sail to your death. I can fix it. Do you trust me?” He remained in place, eyes darting frantically between the rowboat and the crew’s weapons glinting in the moonlight.

Forsyth looked back at the ship, as well. The sailors screamed for him to stay away from the monster in the water. His own instincts, too, urged him away from the expansive waters. He was no coward. But dying a meaningless death wasn’t his goal. He returned his gaze to Python, including his fins and scales and teeth. This was the very last creature that a sailor so far from home should trust.

He squared his shoulders. “I… I do.”

Python sagged in relief. “Alright.” He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply.

Then he began to sing.

It took only a few notes and Forsyth was long gone. The music was breathtaking; it was all-consuming. He no longer heard the clambor of the other sailors. He had no desire to look back at them. He didn’t notice the oars slip out of his grasp and into the water, drifting away into the dark.

The only thing existed was the music, and the man singing it. Forsyth leaned against the rim of the boat, spellbound by verses of love and devotion. He’d always been impressed by Python’s way with words, but this was something else entirely. The poetry from his lips has Forsyth needing to be closer, closer. He wanted to dive into those eyes as they shifted through lovely blues and grays, like the ocean itself. He wanted to comb his fingers through that hair which rustled in the breezy air. He wanted to kiss that mouth curved into a lovely, welcoming smile. Python reached up a hand to cradle Forsyth’s cheek, and he sighed heavily at the touch.

His attention was still on the song as Python took his hand gently. He had to lean out of the boat, now, but it didn’t matter. Anything to be closer to him. Forsyth didn’t even notice the cool water around his hand, creeping up to his elbow. The lyrics shifted to peacefulness and rest. He had never felt more at ease in his life. His pulse had stopped racing. He breathed easy, so easy.

He allowed the siren to pull him into a kiss. The song paused as their lips met, and Forsyth’s mind had a moment to clear. Still, he allowed the siren to pull him into the sea.

#i was like ‘oh this will be cool to think about mermaid aus’#and by the end i was just like ‘and guess WHAT he was a MERMAID and he was BEAUTIFUL’#ill tag this properly later but maybe its trio loving hours for someone else too 👍

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caxsthetic · 4 years

Text

With Lie

Suna Rintarou x F!Reader

Summary: Something about the way he looked at you made you feel so loved. As if you were the only one that he would ever want to spend his life with. But one day he stopped to look at you in the eyes anymore, and you started to doubt the bond that you shared with him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *. STUCK WITH YOU MASTERLIST .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There were a lot of things about him that you loved so much, and usually, it was just some of his simple habits. It could be a little message that he always sent to you every morning, or how he attached some random picture when he was away, sometimes even just him calling you out of the blue only to say three words and then hung up.

"I miss you,"

"I need you,"

"I love you."

But from all the things about him, you really cherished this one particular trait. Every time he appeared in front of your apartment unnoticed, the first thing that he always did was engulfing you into his tight hug. The gesture that he made as he tried to soak all of your scents and engraved it into his heart.

A moment later, he would plop himself on your sofa, opening up his arms as he wanted you there on top of him. Nothing scandalous, just him being extra clingy after days—or sometimes weeks—didn't get some dose of your physical affection. And as a good girlfriend, you would comply with his request without thinking twice.

That was what happened before. Your body on top of him, his hand getting lost to the strands of your hair, lips occasionally kissing the top of your head. That was a blissful moment that you held dear. There were no words being spoken, a quiet atmosphere filled the living room that the two of you were in.

Both of you only needed five minutes to sleep in each other's arms. Sometimes even less than that if he was extremely tired—or just wanted to laze around. But something didn't sit right today, yesterday, and the last few times he had been here.

His chest shook here and there, resulting in you to come back to your conscious mind every time you started to drift off to your slumber. There was a series of giggles and waves of laughter coming from his lips, and it made you groan when he didn't stop after an hour,

"I swear to God, Rin. If you didn't put your phone down I am going to kick you out." You said it with annoyance dripping on your voice. But since he knew you would never do such thing to him—he took it as an advantage,

"Just one more video." He ruffled your hair lazily in hope that maybe it could calm you down. But no, it made you more irritated because you could feel that he was not exactly there with you. However, you waited for him, maybe it would only take a minute.

One minute turned into ten, and ten minutes turned into half an hour. You loved him, you really do. But what was the point of coming here if he ended up not here with you?

Sighing, you decided to just roll down towards the floor and get out from his embrace. You stood up and dusted yourself before walking back towards your own bedroom. Normally, he would follow you, and if you strode too slowly, the next thing that happened was you in his shoulder before plopping you down towards the bed.

It was what happened weeks ago—but apparently, not now, not in the past few times he was here. You turned your face at him, wanting to see his reaction one more time. Your hand immediately gripped on the doorknob once you noticed he didn't even lift his head to see you. And for you, that was the last straw.

You clicked your tongue and decided to slam the bedroom door. It was him who suddenly popped out in front of your apartment, it was him who said he missed you and wanted to spend time with you,

"I want to spend time with you, my ass." You grumbled and changed your clothes into a more comfortable one. If your boyfriend didn't want to cuddle properly, might as well cuddle with your blankets and plushies like you used to when he was away for some games.

You almost grabbed his shirt that he left in your apartment on purpose, and it made you frown since some of his sweet words appeared on your mind.

The morning was your favourite time, because when the sun rises, he could be there with you. You gave your boyfriend the key to your apartment, so when he needed to see you, he could just slip under your blanket, even in the middle of the night.

Your orbs glimmered with affection once you fluttered your eyes open. His dark brown hair that never out of place always looked funny every morning. Your finger daintily touched his cheek. With the rays of sunshine glowed on his silky skin, it looks like he was painted by a god.

You were not afraid to touch him since you knew how the earthquake couldn't even wake him up if he still wanted to take a journey on the dreamland. The sight would never tire you out, you could just gaze and play with his hair for hours, a bonus if he suddenly nuzzled closer to you.

His eyes flickered open, squinting a little as he wanted to adjust his eyesight to the light. He looked so lost for the first few seconds he woke up, like a puppy that was still debating whether to either wake up or go back to sleep. But then he remembered where he was, and he immediately chose the foremost.

"Morning, gorgeous." A smile immediately appeared on his face when he heard your gentle voice, and without waiting for any more words from you, he buried his face on your chest, cuddling into you closer, "Always so needy."

But you didn't mind, you didn't mind at all as he wrapped his arms around you, looking for comfort. Suna Rintarou was just a soft small spoon that loved physical affection from his lover, the clingy type of boyfriend who showed his real nature every time you were around.

"Ngh…" He purred lightly, closing his eyes one more time, "You used my shirt." His large hand gripped on your waist, not too tight yet not too loose, "Not fair, not fair at all."

It was like he was talking to himself. Every morning he would mumble everything that he had in mind, didn't care (or didn't even realise) if you heard it or not. It was just his second nature, one that you found adorable, and it happened until he was fully awake.

"What is it that was not fair? Didn't you like it when I wear your clothes?" Your hand getting lost on his unruly hair, and if it was not because of your question, he would snuggle even closer. But then he tilted his head upward to take a look at you,

"I like it. Ugh, no. I love it." He said it nonchalantly as if his words didn't make your heart thump like crazy, "Please wear my shirt more often."

You raised one of his eyebrows. It was true that he loved to leave his clothes in your apartment, and you actually had a huge amount of it in your drawer. But you only decided to wear it if you missed him a little bit too much than usual—and that meant almost every day.

"Yeah? Why should I?" You wanted to tease him, but he didn't get affected at all and just looked at you with his usual resting bitch face.

"Because I like it, feels like you are mine only." He said it with a flat tone, but there was a sweep of vain in his voice, "And it was something that I wanted to see every morning."

Your pupil dilated a little. Is that…? A subtle proposal? But then you composed yourself and averted your gaze from him. The middle blocker only tilted his head to the side, wondering why you acted so silent after being such a tease before, "Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh god, no! It was the opposite of it!" You chuckled a little and peck his nose softly, he closed his eyes when he received the gesture, lips curved like a cat, "For your information, you are here beside me every morning; is something that I want to have too."

Everything just felt so right, and never once you thought you would lose it. Not even in your wildest dream.

You laid in your beds, eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. With a warm pyjama and pile of blankets, you curled yourself while having a big frown on your face. For the past minutes, you have been wondering why. The reason behind his distance, the reason why he wouldn't even look you in the eyes anymore.

It suffocated you, and you just really wanted all of this to end.

Lately, every time he went to your place, it felt like he was never there with you anymore. The world used to rotate around the two of you once the front door closed. There was nothing that could crack the bond between you and him, and yet, something changed along the way.

Now, he would just be... there. Hug that used to be warm and comforting, now cut short as he just gave you a peck on the forehead and plopped down on your couch. He didn't open up his arms for you to come. Though, maybe because he knew that you would slither your way on top of him—yes, it was your hope speaking up to you.

Then that was it. There was nothing more except the physical heat that his body radiated. You couldn't feel the affection that was there before, nothing. It was as if he was in this place just to tell you he still needed you. He needed the same old routine where he could be himself around you.

But a need was different with love. And with how everything unfolded lately, you didn't know his feelings for you were still the same, or it was just not there anymore.

Lost in your thought, you didn't realise when his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you closer to his embrace. It felt too good, too perfect to be close with him like this. His breath tickled at the back of your neck as he nuzzled his head closer to you. Like a cat who was guilty after stealing some food from the kitchen,

"Why did you leave?" He rested his chin on one of your shoulders, "I panicked when you suddenly were not there anymore."

You didn't answer him as your eyes darted to the clock on the wall once again. Your hand didn't bother to cover his as you kept your body to be still.

"Twenty minutes."

"What?"

"It took you twenty minutes to realise that I am not there, Rintarou."

He shuddered a little when he heard your tone. Even though your voice was calm and didn't waver in the slightest bit, he could hear how it was sheathed with rage (or was it disappointment?). That, and the fact you called him with his full first name, he knew he screwed up big time.

"Sorry," His voice sounded exactly like a cat, guilty, but he would do it again anyway no matter how many times he realised you didn't like how he acted. At least that was one of his habits, one that was not your favourite, "Are you mad?"

"You think?"

There was a reason why you didn't want to turn your head on him. Because every time you looked at his face, you would fall to his charm, over and over again. His sharp jaw, soft dark brown hair that never fell out of place, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes, those beautiful grey yellowish beads that you love to gaze at.

"Sorry," He muttered once again, snuggling his face closer to yours, "I am sorry I neglect you."

But your apology was not what I am looking for. You answered him inside your head, and when he realised you gave him the cold shoulder, he gave up. A second after that, he wriggled himself away from you and sat on the edge of the bed.

Silence filled the bedroom, the uncomfortable silence that you despised so much. It was so quiet that you could even hear him sigh behind you. Now as your mind didn't preoccupy with rage anymore, the memories of the past few days crashed down on you like a bullet train.

"Rin, are you hiding something?"

You waited, wanting to hear anything, any syllables that could reassure you there was nothing going on. But the only thing that you could hear was how he just swallowed a huge lump, a sign that strengthened your suspicion behind all of his action.

That was not the reassurance you wanted to hear. These past few days when he was here with you, you couldn't recognise him anymore. You just needed some answer, some explanation, even if it was just a sweet lie, you would swallow it down without hesitation.

Because you love him too much to let go, but you couldn’t take it anymore,

"I am going to sleep," You alerted him, and he just sat there as he could sense that there was more that would come from your lips, "You don't have to wake me up when you leave."

Every time he came to your apartment, it meant that he would stay the night. All these years that went by, never once he left abruptly. There was no circumstance that made him leave, not even when the two of you just got into a huge fight.

But from your words, he knew that he was no longer welcomed. As if you knew—you knew before he could tell you, and it was your final decision already.

You didn't really mean that. You wanted him to snuggle up against you one more time, feeling the same affection that he always gave. You have loved that man since high school, and when he asked you out on your college year, you promised yourself to never let him slip between your fingers.

But when you heard the bedroom door being opened and closed, you realised that it was the start of it. The start of the end of your three years relationship with him.

Is this it? You thought as you stared at the blank walls. There was no sound from your living room anymore, only silence. What if he leaves me for real? Your mind was frantic right now when the realisation sank into your heart, What if it was the last time I saw him?

You sat up abruptly and kicked off all the blankets that covered your skin, stumbling your feet on the slippers. With a steadfast move, you open up your bedroom door, in hope that your eyes caught the glimpse of his figure.

But he was not there anymore.

You walked mindlessly towards the empty space, eyes darting to every corner of the room. Checking the bathroom in case he needed to go there. You chuckled bitterly over your own mind. Too naive to think that he would still be here after what you said to him a few minutes before.

Now you asked yourself what if you just turned your head earlier? What if you gave in once again, pulling him into another kiss and acted as nothing changed between the two of you. If that means you could still feel his long fingers tugged gently on your hair, you would turn back time.

But there was no such thing as changing the past, and you knew it.

So when you saw the spare key that was meant for him to keep laid gently on the kitchen counter, you knew that you would regret the words that you said tonight—until as long as your heart beats for him.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Why were you here, at the gymnasium where his team would be practising. It was like there was some kind of force that told you to come here today, and you wish you could pinpoint whether it was a bad feeling or a good one.

The screeching of the shoes made contact with the hardwood floor, and even after multiple times coming in here, you were still amazed by the atmosphere,

“Nice block, Suna!”

The familiar voice that belonged to the libero of the team rang through the sweat scented gymnasium. There was no match today as the place was used by the team. It was always a great sight for you to hold as he looked so free running around the court. His orbs looked so dangerous, bodies moving in tune with the ball as he jumped to block the attack.

It was mesmerizing, and you subconsciously slipped yourself on one of the bleachers at the top row, forgetting the reason why you were here in the first place as your eyes wouldn’t look away from the man who captured your heart.

You still remembered about how people in your high school always had this charmed gaze when the twins passed them. But you, you always had your eyes on the person behind them, the middle blocker, Suna Rintarou. Even when his eyes always looked down on either his phone or the floor, you could see how gorgeous he was already.

And when you saw him following the rhythm of the volleyball for the first time, you swore you never thought a sport could be so beautiful. Or maybe in your case, he was the one who made you feel so hooked. Because he was there in the court, and everyone always looked the best when they were in their world anyway.

You had your eyes solely to the man, both hand propping your head like you were some kind of teenager in love. Well, you were not a teenager anymore, but the latter was the truth anyway. You were indeed, in love.

After some practices match, the team finally had their break. You straighten your posture like it was a second nature, fingers combing on your hair, wanting to look as perfect as you could. You stood up, skimming the wrinkles away from your clothes before you walked down towards the court.

He gulped down some waters down his throat as his other hand grabbed his phone from the bag. Gentle smile suddenly appeared on his face, the smile that wouldn’t be produced anymore every time you were around. And that simple change on his face was enough to make you stop moving towards him.

“Rin!” A high pitched voice roared on the court, resulting in the entire team to look up towards the source. There at the opposite bleacher, stood a woman with shiny brown hair and soft makeup on her face. Everyone was looking at her like she was some kind of angel as they ogled at her with amazement on their faces.

Including him.

He walked up towards the woman with the same gentle smile that he used to have when he saw you. And you? You couldn’t look away. Your heart told you to just turn your back and leave the place. But you stay, as if you had to feel the pain as your body stood still.

It was a stupid move, for you to choose looking at your boyfriend who was now in the embrace of another woman. They looked so… happy. She ruffled his hair gently and pecked him on the cheek as blush adorned his face in a matter of seconds. Wasn’t it supposed to be you? To be the one who came to his practice, cheering him on, and giving him a good luck kiss.

You gripped the strap of your bag tighter than usual, vision blurred as tear after tear started to cascade down your cheek. The woman looked so beautiful, matured, so considered as she gave him a fancy paper bag that probably worth hundred thousands of yen—and he looked so happy when he received that.

He once told you that he didn’t like to have you around when he had practise. Saying things like he got distracted so easily when you were there. But now as the heart wrenching scene kept unfurled in front of you, you knew the real reason behind it.

It was too much now, and you wanted to just get yourself out from here. But luck never once be on your side as you stumbled down on the staircase, making everyone turn their head towards you. You yelped when you tried to stand up, feeling the pain on your ankle.

Komori immediately rushed up towards you, asking your feelings with worry lingered on his voice. You wanted to say that you were fine, but at the same time, you couldn’t leave your gaze away from your boyfriend. He just stood there, pupils dilated when he saw the pained look on your face.

You were strong, that was something that he knew. There was a time when you were getting crushed by a bicycle, resulting in you having some broken bones. But you didn’t cry that day, you asked about the man who crushed into you instead, asking if he was alright. So he knew, the real reason behind the tears that stained your cheek right now, he knew it was not because of the physical pain.

“Can you get up?” Your eyes finally darted towards the man in front of you. Komori could see the anguish in your eyes, and he was frantic, afraid that you were hurt that bad, “Oh, dear, let me call an ambulance, please wait-”

“No, no, I am alright.” He was ready to dial the hospital, but then you pulled his hand away from his ear, orbs begging for him to just listen to you, “Just, just help me get out from here. I need it more than anything else.”

The libero was unsure at first, but then he saw the pleading look on your face, and he couldn’t help but give in to your request. He put one of your arms around his neck while he hoisted you up gently by resting his hand on your waist. You could feel someone’s gaze burned at the back of your head when you walked up towards the exit door. But you didn’t dare to turn your head, because you knew one look at him was enough to tear your heart apart.

The door behind you closed, and it was just you and the brown haired man who currently filled the empty hallways. His soft eyes would flicker towards you, worried because it was not like you to cry for some physical pain.

He knew all these things about you from your boyfriend. Suna would always ramble about you, the one woman who never asked for more than his own presence. So it was shocking the libero when the man who never shut up about you, didn’t even spend his time to make sure that you were alright.

But that’s when he was wrong.

The door that connected the hallways with the main court slammed open, and without turning your head, you could sense him. With each footsteps that he took, your heart beats faster and faster. Your hand tugged on the libero’s jersey, clinging into the poor man who was being dragged into whatever happened between you and your boyfriend.

“Komori,” His voice was flat as he called his teammates. The libero only sighed and turned his head, “Let me take care of her from here.”

“Is that alright?” Komori turned his face towards you, wanting to make sure that you want your boyfriend to take care of you. But you shook your head softly, planting your gaze to the floor to avoid seeing him, “She didn’t want to, Suna.”

You thought that he would leave, hoping that he wouldn’t hurt you more than he already had. Your ear caught some footsteps, but the sound was getting higher and higher. Noting you that he walked towards you instead of leaving. And your assumption was answered when you could see the pair of familiar shoes right where your gaze fell before.

“Please, Komori.” He knew that you wouldn’t answer him, so he decided to talk to his teammates instead, “I need to talk to her alone.” And your heart cracked from his statement, minds running wild because you were sure what he wanted to tell you. You didn’t want to hear any of his explanations, what you saw before was enough.

But then again, if you wanted to end things right, may as well listen to him—for the last time.

You looked up, eyeing the libero and gave him a reassurance nod. With worry still lingering on his face, he sighed and put your arms around your boyfriend instead. He looked at you one more time, and when you didn’t cower like before, he gave you a little reassurance look before walking back towards the court.

Your eyes trailing to his figure, and once the door engulfed him from your sight, that’s when you realised that your boyfriend had been eyeing you.

“What do you want to tell me?” You coated the sadness in your voice with a hard tone, in hope that he would pull away a little to let you breathe. But he didn’t. Instead of giving you an answer, he guided you to the nearest bench.

“Let me take a look at your feet.” He said softly as he sat you down, his thumb caressing the back of your hand gently before he scooted down in front of you, “Bear with me for a while, I am going to take off your shoes.” You shouldn’t look at him with the same admiration, but the way he delicately untied your shoes, and the way his finger ran smoothly on your skin, you couldn't force yourself to look away.

His thumb grazed across your feet to find the exact spot where you needed extra care. You winced a little when his finger pressed on the spot around your ankle, and he shushed you up, so softly to calm you down, "I am sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

If it was in different circumstances, you would laugh it off and poke his nose playfully. Assuring him that he didn't hurt you in the slightest bit. But the words that he said just now hit differently as if he uttered the apology for two things; hurting you physically, and tearing your heart apart into pieces.

"Who is she, Rintarou?" You dropped the question that has been lingering on your mind for quite some time now. His body went rigid once he heard your words, and he immediately looked up at you with nervousness filled his orbs.

"She was no one." He answered you with a flat tone as he tried to avert your gaze that peered into his soul, "Come on, let me take you home."

"No," You gripped hard on his wrist, forcing him to look at you, "I don't want you to drop this conversation as if nothing happened between us."

He swallowed a huge lump once you spat out the words. And from the stubborn look in your eyes, he knew you had won this game. He decided to sit on the floor in front of you, letting out a sigh as he put his head on your thigh.

The action made your heart filled with mixed feelings. You were annoyed because he seems like he wanted to just keep the truth away from you. But at the same time, you still feel the same butterflies that always there when he acted so clingy towards you.

You almost fall to the same pattern all over again. This is not what you wanted, you needed to know the truth, "Rintarou, I am serious—"

"Marry me."

It was as if the time stopped when the words rolled down from his lips. Your body was still, didn't dare to move an inch as you tried to process the phrases inside your head. You parted your lips, wanting to say something. But the only thing that you could pronounce was just a void.

He put his chin on your thighs, gazing upon your face to search for some kind of answer. Yet, the only thing that he could find from your expression was just the confusion and perplex, "It was supposed to be tomorrow, after the games with Jackals." He slipped his hand on his pocket, "But you were here, and the ring arrives too anyway—Yes, that woman is my cousin, she was the one who helped me with the ring—so…"

Swallowing a huge lump, he sat up straight and looked at you with hope in his eyes, "Marry me, please?" It was not what he had in mind. Not just that simple phrase. You deserved so much better than just a plain proposal, yet here he was anyway, too afraid that he wouldn’t get any other chance if he didn’t ask you now. So he needed to improvise (something that he was really bad at).

"R-Rin, but—" You were too starstruck as he pushed the velvet box into your vision, "Holy shit—" He snorted a little from the cursing words that you emit as he tried to coat his own nervousness. With one last deep breath, he opened up the box.

You gasped. No, not because of how the ring shone with the little rays of sunshine from the window. Not because of how he chose your favourite ring colour. But it was all because of the fact that he was the one who asked for your hand in marriage, not anyone else, "T-This is not fair…"

A tear started to slide down from your eyes, hiccuping when you remember the past few days where he couldn't even look at you, "I-If this is what you have planned, then why did you avoid me?!" You didn't mean to raise your voice, "Why did you avert your gaze every time I talk to you? Why did you—"

"Because I can't lie to you!" He interlaced one of his hands with yours, "I could never lie to you, every time I look into your eyes I just want to blurt out the words. Because I want you to be mine, completely. And I want to make it right, I want to propose to you so you feel like you were special."

He kissed the back of your hand, wanting you to know that what he said was genuine, "I am sorry, but please… I wanted you to be there when I wake up every morning, and I wanted you to be there beside me on every goodnight. You don’t know how many times I wanted to just say it, (Y/n)..."

Your heart burst with thousands of feelings. Love, admiration, guilt, it was all mixed into one as you pat the empty space beside you, telling him to sit there.

He was still nervous when he took a seat, eyes searching for an answer that he could find from your expression that was now unreadable. You put your hand on top of his, patting him a little before opening up your lips,

"You know… I appreciate the thought that you want me to have some extravagant proposal or something," Your voice was soft as your gaze lingered to where your hand rested, "But I feel special, any kind of proposal that you gave, I will always feel special, Rin…" You finally face him, eyes peered into his yellowish orbs that were now glimmered with some tears, "Because it was you, and being loved by you made me feel like I am the luckiest woman on—"

Your voice cut abruptly as he smashed his lips into yours, swallowing all the sweet words that you said to him. You cursed yourself for thinking that he would leave you, for even thinking that he didn't love you anymore. And right now as he planted the soft kiss to your lips, it felt like all the anxiety that you had for a couple of weeks were just a hallucination.

Both of your cheeks were now covered with tears as the two of you didn't pull away from each other. It was like you gave him the answer that he had been looking for, and he was there to reassure you, that you didn't have to doubt the love that he had towards you.

In between the kisses that you two shared, he slipped the ring to your finger, a perfect fit. He clasped your hand with yours, pulling you on his lap gently to avoid any unnecessary movement for your feet. But you didn't care anymore at this point. The burst of feelings inside your heart preoccupied your mind, not even the pain that you felt could make it die down.

He pulled away softly, resting his forehead on yours as the two of you tried to catch some air. The way his breath tickled your lips, or how his hand wrapped around your figure, it made you feel in cloud nine, still couldn’t believe in yourself that all of your worry was for nothing.

It was funny how love works sometimes. There would be doubt, there would be a time when everything felt so wrong and you just wanted to run away. There would be times when you felt like you hated him.

But if you could get through all of those questionable feelings, then the two of you were really meant to be. Because with love and belief, if it mixed together—it could create the most powerful bond that ever exists in this world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶• ┈┈ ⛧ ┈ ♛ ♛ ┈ ⛧ ┈┈ •༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

desolate (2)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 2.9k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou , @ladymidnightt Part one Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

A sharp tone rips you out of your dreams, your alarm screeching at the top of its lungs to make you get up. You groan, fumbling around before you find your phone to turn it off. You look at your screen through bleary eyes, annoyed that you forgot to turn off your alarm considering it’s a Saturday and you absolutely do not have to wake up at 6.30 am today.

You huff, throwing your phone further down your bed and turning over to go back to sleep. The noise startled you enough that you can still feel your heart racing, and even though you doubt you’ll be able to slip back into the dream you had, you can still take a few minutes more to just rest.

You stare at the sunlight that has started peeking through the gaps in your curtains, everything still a little hazy from the vivid dream you had. But the more you look out in your room, the more the golden eyes and black soft fur you thought was only a dream starts melting away and the day before comes rushing back.

You actually adopted a cat! Your stomach does a funny flip, excitement rushing through your veins as you quickly sit up in bed. The floor is cold as you plant your feet on the ground, and you hurry over to your closet with a grimace.

In a few weeks it’ll become too cold to have the heater off, and you already dread how high your electricity bills are going to become in the following months. But it’s either that or freezing to death, and frankly with your busy schedule, you don’t have time for that. You throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants, happy that the only thing on your agenda today is just lazing around the apartment.

You hurry to your bedroom door after tugging on some thick socks to ward off the cold, only pausing for a short second to take a deep breath before opening it. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but finding your kitty lying directly outside of your door definitely wasn’t it.

You freeze, foot caught mid-air as you stare down at the black ball of fur curled up on the floor. You carefully set your foot down again, clutching the doorframe as you slowly slide down to a crouch. He's so fluffy and cute that your legs wobble, and you have to put a hand down on the floor to keep from toppling over your cat.

You wince as the cold seeps into your fingertips, and you don’t like the thought of your kitty sleeping on it. What if he gets sick? Can cats get sick? You’re not sure, but you don’t want to find out either.

“Kitty?” You murmur, watching as one ear twitches in your direction. You reach out slowly, hand hovering over the furry body hesitantly. You want to touch him, but the band-aids along your forearm serves as a reminder of how much he didn’t like that last night.

“Kitty?” You try again, and this time, golden eyes slide open at your voice. You let out a small coo as it blinks slowly, obviously still sleepy. You figure it might be safe to touch it now that it’s awake, but the moment you fingers inch closer it hisses, golden eyes suddenly wide and alarmed before it quickly scampers under the couch again.

You sigh, pushing yourself up to get some breakfast. You desperately want to cuddle and coddle your new cat, but it’s obvious that it needs space and time, and you need to respect that. Owning pets isn’t always sunshine and butterflies and you figure it probably had a rough life on the streets before you picked it up. It was alone in a shelter, after all.

You change out the water in the bowl you put out for your cat the night before, a frown settling on your face as you realize the dry food you got from Yeonjun hasn’t been touched. You sprinkle some more kibble on just in case, hoping that the fresh bits might smell good and entice your cat to eat something.

It’s still early and you’re feeling a little too lazy to make anything, so you decide that today’s breakfast will be yesterday's leftovers. You bring your meal to the couch, placing the plate with rice and chicken on the coffee table in front of it. You hear a low grumble from underneath the couch as you take a step closer, and you decide that maybe delaying getting your feet mauled for another minute is okay as you run back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

You don’t like the thought of being scared of your own cat, but you figure he’s probably way more scared than you are, and so you just need to suck it up for a while. You gasp as you round the corner, shocked to find your cat eating away at a chicken breast on your plate.

“Kitty!” You rush forward, scared that he’s eating something he isn’t supposed to and hoping to stop him, but your cat is back under the couch before you even reach the table. There’s an obvious gap on your plate from the missing chicken your cat brought with it under the couch, but from the sounds of it, it seems like your cat was starving.

You can hear the hurried bites from where you’re standing, and your heart aches a little at the thought of it being so hungry. Despite your better judgement, you quickly grab another breast from your plate before you can second-guess yourself. Placing it close to the edge of the couch on the floor, you snatch your fingers back just as a black paw comes out and swipes the food in.

You tentatively sit down on the couch, perching on the edge so that your legs are as far away as they can be. Your cat seems to be too busy eating to notice your presence, or maybe it just doesn’t care as long as you bring it food, but you’re nearly all the way done with your meal before you hear a soft hiss from underneath you again.

“I’m done soon kitty,” You mutter, shoving the rest of the food into your mouth before you hurry off into the kitchen with your plate. You know you still have a long way to go before your cat starts to like you, but it still feels like a small victory.

“He hates me,” You groan as you slump down in your chair, Jihyo’s bright eyes staring at your over her computer screen.

“Who? Your cat?” She tilts her head, a small frown on her face as she takes in your tired appearance. You didn’t sleep well all weekend.

You felt terrible for making your cat scared, and so you tried to steer clear of the couch as much as possible. But you also realized you needed to make your presence known if he was ever going to get used to you - so you spent the weekend feeling guilty for both staying away and staying close.

“Yeah,” You mutter as you blow a stubborn piece of hair away from your face.

“It probably just needs some time to adjust ..” She trails off, but you can see the words on the tip of her tongue forming already.

“Don’t–” You start, but Jihyo interrupts you.

“This is why you should’ve gotten a hybrid! It would never be so mean to you,” She pouts. You take a deep breath, trying to push down the annoyance that wants to bubble up and explode.

You love Jihyo and she’s one of your closest friends, but she doesn’t really share the same reality as you. She has money, and you don’t. And while it sounds trivial, it’s enough to create a rift in situations like these where she just doesn’t get it. You don’t have money for a hybrid. Period.

“Jihyo. Let it rest,” You grumble, tone serious and eyes narrowed as you stare her down. She opens her mouth, but seems to think twice and clamps it shut instead.

“Fine,” She huffs. She lets you work in peace until lunch, but you can tell she’s practically bursting with the need to say something as she tugs you inside the lunchroom. It’s empty, you two usually taking your break a little earlier than everybody else just to get some privacy when you eat and talk.

You’ve barely taken a bite of your sandwich when Jihyo sighs dramatically, eyes wide as she throws her arms out across the table.

“I know I’ve only had Sana for three days, but if something happens to her I’m going to kill everybody and then myself,” You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile at how fond Jihyo seems to be already.

“Stop being so dramatic,” You snort. A man quietly makes his way inside the break room; you think you vaguely recognize him as being one of the IT guys in your department.

His eyes grow wide as your eyes meet, and he hurries off to the little kitchen in the corner of the room with his head hung low when you give him a small nod as a greeting. Jihyo seems obvious, too busy dreamily staring out of the window behind you as she continues.

“Sana is so cute. She’s so happy and cuddly,” She gushes, quickly bringing out her phone to show you some of the pictures she took over the weekend. You two have been texting of course, but you knew she wanted to talk about it in more detail over lunch.

“She even picked out her own collar! Look!” You see the IT guy slip out the kitchen as you take Jihyo’s phone, paying him no mind as you smile at the picture of her Pomeranian hybrid.

“Aww, how adorable,” You can’t help but grin, happy that your friend found someone she enjoys spending her time with.

“Y/N!” Jihyo suddenly exclaims, “Maybe I can bring Sana over on Friday? She’s been dying to see you again,” You mull it over for a second.

You do really want to see Sana and Jihyo, and since your cat pretty much lives under the couch you’re sure an hour or two will be fine. Sana seems to sweet and quiet that you don’t think it’ll be much of a problem even if she is a dog hybrid.

“Sure!” You agree, happy to spend some more time with your friend.

The moment you step inside your apartment after work, you’re sure you see a black tail hurry around the corner.

“I’m home!” You call out, but the silence that greets you feels heavy and uninviting, and you suddenly feel more alone than what you did before when you were actually by yourself. You quickly shed your shoes and your coat, briefly slipping into your bedroom to pull on some more comfortable clothes.

You’re hungry; the lunch you brought today definitely wasn’t enough to keep you sated until work was over. You quickly fry up some vegetables and meat, mindful to keep away from any seasoning. Your cat has made it clear it’s not eating the cat food Yeonjun gave you, and so you’ve been letting it eat some of your own food until you can get him something else.

Once you’re sure the meat has cooled down enough, you slip some on to a plate, bringing it into the living room. You’re about to place it down under the couch when you hesitate. If you keep doing this you’re sure it’s only going to get harder to get to know your cat, and that’s not what you want to happen.

So you carefully place it a little further away, so that your cat needs to take a few steps out to eat it. You hurry out to the kitchen to grab your own plate, and when you return, you find your cat halfway out from under the couch, golden eyes trained on you as he eats.

“I’ll stay over here kitty. Take your time,” You make sure to sit on the other side of the couch, giving you cat some space while still being close. You turn on the TV, getting more and more absorbed in the show as your dinner grows colder.

You eat absentmindedly, the plot too interesting to tear your eyes away from. So it comes as a surprise when you move your hand to pick up your fork, but your fingers come into contact with soft fluffy fur instead.

You eyes snap down in panic as you find your cat looking up at you with wide eyes, a piece of meat caught between its teeth. Your fingers twitch involuntarily at the feel of fur against them, and the motion seems to remind your cat suddenly as to why it doesn’t like you.

Its ears flatten against its skull, and you can practically see the murder written in his eyes before he jumps down and crawls under the couch again. You don’t realize you were even holding your breath until your lungs start burning, and you drop your outstretched hand into your lap as you gulp down air.

You stay in the living room for a little while more, ignoring the disgruntled noises coming from the floor as you finish your show.

“Night kitty,” You say as you turn off the lights, hurrying down the hallway to your room and closing the door behind you. You can still feel the brush of fur against your fingers even after you’ve gone to bed, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Even if touching him was an accident, he has still started to feel comfortable enough around you to take the risk to steal your food, and that has to count for something.

Nothing really changes between you and your black menace until Thursday evening. You have been tiptoeing around your apartment all week, apparently the cat’s mood has only soured after you accidentally touched it, and you have no idea how to make it better.

It’s grown colder outside as well, and you can only hope that your cat at least sleeps on top of the couch when you’re not there. You’ve taken to laying out some blankets on the floor, just in case. Work today was particularly exhausting, and curling up on the couch with a blanket and some mindless television watching sounds like dream come true. So that’s exactly what you do as soon as you get home and finish dinner.

You’re skipping through channels until you find something mildly interesting - a documentary on hybrids. The narrators voice is soothing, and it doesn’t take long before you start drifting off, feeling comfortable and full after your dinner. You vaguely listen as the soft-spoken voice tells you about hybrids habits, almost lulled completely to sleep before you feel the slight dip in the cushion near your feet.

You’re so far gone that you barely pay it any notice, not even when you feel the presence getting closer and closer. You’re on your back, head tilted to the side as you watch the TV through half-lidded eyes as something steps on your stomach.

The blanket you have over you is so thick you can barely feel it, but you catch a dark mass out of the corner of your eye. He thinks I’m asleep, you realize, just as you suddenly feel a weight drop down on your body.

You don’t move, afraid that you’ll scare him now that he finally seems to have gained some confidence and trust in you. Your neck is starting to cramp from the awkward position, but you refuse to move, opting to just watch him get comfortable out of the corner of your eye.

You count to two hundred in your head after the moving stops, and turn your head the slightest bit just to make some of the pain go away. Golden eyes blink open immediately, staring you down as you look back at your cat.

“Comfy?” You ask, slowly reaching your hand to see if he'll let you pet him. You feel claws digging into the fabric despite the thickness when he notices your hand, a hiss rumbling in his chest until you drop it back down.

“No touching. Got it,” You mumble, somehow feeling a little chastised. You almost feel shy having him so close, especially when your cat won’t stop looking at your face, almost as if he’s scrutinizing it. But that’s ridiculous, you decide, he’s just a cat.

Any trace of sleep is long gone by now, but you cat however, seems to be growing tired of his staring game, eyes slowly slipping closed with each breath you take. You can still see that he’s a little tense, but just the fact that he’s here, on top of you, warms your heart.

You watch him rest until you feel your own eyelids become heavy again. You know your back will kill you tomorrow if you sleep here, but you don’t want to wake up your kitty, not when you can provide him with some warmth. So, you fall asleep with a lighter heart than you have had in days, hopeful that maybe this will turn out better than you first thought.

Oh, if only you knew what you really had gotten yourself into.

- - - - Hello! Hope you enjoyed the second chapter of desolate! Next chapter will be Jihyo and Sana coming over to visit you and your kitty, which said black fluffball might not be so happy about .. Not when he’s just starting to warm up to you.

OT7 version is coming soon as well, so keep your eyes peeled for that :) Thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first chapter, it made me really excited to continue working on this! My inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon!

#bts #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #yoongi #cat hybrid yoongi #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #romance #fluff #angst #hybrid!bts #desolate masterlist #jihyo #sana #yeonjun

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bunnyywritings · 4 years

Note

Hi I found your account and I’m interested in requesting iida x reader who acts like kenma! I’m not sure if your doing request so if not please ignore this!! Stay Hydrated!!!

tenya iida with an gn! s/o like kenma (hq)

[a/n: this gif makes me feel some things 😳🦋🦋 hehe anyways...thank you for the request anon! I tried my best with the prompt so i hope it’s to your liking :) I promise to stay hydrated! enjoy! -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ]

✰ i think he was a little stand off-ish at first

✰ he mistook your straight forward nature as you being rude

✰ your laid back demeanor gave him the wrong idea, homeboy thought you were lazy

✰ it wasn’t until the sports festival that he truly saw your full potential

✰ you were paired with bakugo for the main battle and he was worried because he just knew that you would be obliterated by that noisy punk

✰ oh how wrong he was

✰ don’t get me wrong, you lost

✰ BUT

✰ bakugo was able to get you all riled up, he kept hounding you about how you didn’t deserve to be in the hero course because you were only putting in the bare minimum, he pushed you to your limit

✰ kinda how midoriya got shoto to use his fire during their fight

✰ you fought tooth and nail, your school gym suit was burned and you were breathing heavily

✰ you just wanted to prove him wrong, to prove everyone wrong

✰ but, alas, you were exhausted and all it took was his howitzer impact to blast you out of bounds with a successful k.o.

✰ iida rushed to the infirmary, relieved to see that you were okay

✰ “(l/n), I’m afraid I have to apologize. it seems I was wrong about you.”

✰ you had just shrugged and told him to relax, “it’s not a big deal...” you looked away from him as you sheepishly scratched the back of your neck, not wanting him to see the burning blush on your cheeks

✰ from then on, he had invited you to hang out with the ‘deku-squad’

✰ he’d grow to absolutely love your little cat like habits (I refuse to believe that kenma doesn’t act like one)

✰ on one of your guys’ day off, he watched as you ungracefully flopped onto the couch and pulled out your psp

✰ every now and then, you would stretch and lay in the strangest ways

✰ there was one point were you had draped yourself over the arm of the couch, your legs resting on the cushions as your torso just kinda hung above the ground

✰ he was confused but let you be and sat on the couch opposite you and read a book

✰ you often played video games with denki and eijirou until ungodly hours of the morning

✰ he’d make sure to make you the best tea and make sure you at least got proper nourishment before school had started since you needed some way to regain all the energy that you would’ve got if you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour

✰ he’s definitely have to deal with a whiny denki and kirishima because he was WAY softer with your ‘why you need 8 hours of sleep to be a hero’ lecture

✰ he doesn’t realize he has feelings for you until midoriya and ochako bring it up, even shoto knew

✰ it would definitely be on his mind 24/7, he’d start to get the tiniest bit flustered whenever you were around or when you did something unexpectedly cute

✰ he’d pull you aside during lunch or something

✰ “(y/n) I have something to confess...”

✰ he was uncharacteristically nervous, “Sure iida, what’s up?”

✰ “I...well to be blunt, I believe I have romantic feelings for you.”

✰ your cheeks instantly went up in flames, heart beating fiercely against your rib cage

✰ “I...I feel the s-same way.” Your voice was quiet but he heard you loud and clear

✰ now for the fluffy couple stuff hehe

✰ whoever said iida was too awkward to be super affectionate is very WRONG

✰ he’s definitely not too into pda and neither were you so it worked out

✰ but behind closed doors...ooh honey this boy will drive you crazy

✰ the way i see it, iida’s a very determined boy so if he’s gonna show you his love he’s gonna do it right

✰ this usually happened on days that you’d convince him to relax instead of studying or training

✰ you’d push him onto his bed and crawl in between his legs and rest against him so your back was to his chest, he’d wrap his arms around your waist and pull you flush to his body, resting his chin on your shoulder

✰ he’d watch you play your games, usually asking questions as you did. You never really minded answering them

✰ sometimes, as you were playing, he’d press soft kisses onto your neck or shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his heavenly deep voice

✰ or if he was feeling extra bold that day, he’s grip your thighs and softly massage them or he’d trace random shaped into them with his fingertips, this never failed to make you extremely flustered

✰ the tiniest grin would make its way to his lips as he watched your fingers stutter in their movements, causing you to die in the game

✰ “What’s wrong my love? Am I distracting you?”

✰ this lil shit knows what he’s doing

✰ not that it’s all that important but mans has got that shmoney

✰ you best believe that he’d buy you the game you wanted as soon as it came out just to see that adorable bashful smile of yours as you excitedly went to put it into the game console

✰ he’d definitely ask denki and kirishima to teach him how to play a game so that he could join you in your favorite activity

✰ dates would be nothing fancy, you’d rather stay at the dorms and cuddle but iida was persistent so sometimes he’d convince you to go out with him and get lunch

✰ and when you did, i was a no game zone so you had no escape

✰ he’d hold your hand from across the table and run his thumb over your knuckles, loving to watch as you instantly got shy and would look away

✰ he’d taken you on a picnic date once and you found a nice sunny spot on the blanket and curled up for a nap, he was gonna wake you up and lecture you about how inappropriate it was to nap in public but one look at your peaceful features and his heart would melt

✰ he gently ran his hands through your hair and threw all reason out the window, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his sheet before taking advantage of the amazing weather and taking a nap with you

✰ you did it...you broke iida

✰ anyways...

✰ he had noticed that you were huffing and puffing over the last level of a game, you had restarted the level so many times and you were getting frustrated

✰ what he wasn’t expecting was what you did once you had finally completed it

✰ something that completely caught him off guard

✰ “Oh my god...I did it.” a feeling of relief washed over you until that relief turned into joy. “I did it!”

✰ you had rushed over to him and threw your arms around his neck and started to repeatedly place kisses all over his face

✰ he was just kinda frozen there as he gripped your hips to keep you in place as you peppered kisses all over his skin but once you realized what you had been doing, you pulled away from him

✰ “Sorry...t-that was s-silly.” You were clearly embarrassed, he chuckled and pulled you back into his arms as one of his hands came up to cup your jaw and tilt your head upward

✰ “congratulations my love, I’m proud of you.” He’d then place the sweetest kiss on your lips

✰ overall, baby boy loves you so much

✰ because of you, he’s learned how to relax and just enjoy some lazing around

#tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #anon ask #anon request

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

Text

When We Collide (Part 5)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everybody! First and foremost, just want to thank those of you still on this journey with me. My motivation to write has been so much lower than I thought it would be, but I haven’t lost sight of what I want from this fic and I am happy to finally share a new installment. This chapter brings a last burst of road trip fluff and the build up to a big moment – Emma’s introduction to Killian’s life in the MC. It’s going to be fun to explore these dynamics in the next few chapters, but for now I hope you will enjoy, and I can’t wait to see what you all think. Thanks so much for reading!

In the quiet, tranquil calm of a woodland morning, Killian watched the cabin bedroom fill with sunlight, bringing the softest golden glow to the rustic room where he and Emma had spent the night. Birds chirped to greet the new day’s light, and the gentle breeze among these mountains brushed branches from a nearby oak against the windowpane. The whistle of the wind and the gentle swish of leaves on glass melded together into something deeply familiar, a symphony of sound, the song of sunrise.

Sadly, this song was the last of its kind that Emma and Killian would enjoy on this journey. The final portion of their cross-country trek would come today, and when they arrived back home, a new reality would set in. Things would change drastically, Killian would have to reengage with a life he’d long ago left behind, yet despite the challenges that awaited him, Killian was astounded at the peace he could feel in this moment. Holding Emma as she still lay sleeping, he was filled with contentment, choosing to anchor himself to something that would be forever constant: his love for this incredible woman.

“You’re doing it again,” Emma murmured, stirring from sleep and already entirely aware of him before she’d so much as opened her eyes.

Killian let the sultry sound of her sleep-laced voice wash over him. It sent a similar sensation coursing through him as the soft brush of her fingertips over his chest. Strumming an unknown melody, her hands on his skin lit him up inside, and though he’d just taken her a few hours ago, he was already ready to devour her again. Strewn out like this, in the glow of early morning, Emma was a vision with gold hair and sun kissed skin. She was stunning, and through the grace of God and all good things, she was miraculously his. The thought of that gave him great comfort and his own hold on her tightened ever so slightly. In truth, he was so distracted he nearly forgot to answer her sassy statement, but the smile that appeared at her lips as her green eyes opened for the day demanded that he ask for more.

“Doing what, love?”

“You’re loving me so much that I simply can’t sleep through it.”

Another man would deny such a cheesy proclamation, or deflect from the depth of his feelings, but not Killian. No, his Swan had called him to the floor, and she was right. He was up this morning thinking only of his love for her, and while other thoughts may threaten to encroach on their time together, he had pushed them all aside. She was the best way to stay grounded and centered, and he was selfish, needing to soak up every last drop of their moments together just to keep his peace of mind.

“I’d offer some condolences, Emma, but I think we both know how you feel about my loving you.”

He murmured the words against her skin, taking advantage of her lingering drowsiness to pepper kisses on her lips, her jaw, and then the hollow of her neck. He hummed out a sound of sheer delight when he felt her shiver beneath him, and when she let out that perfect moan of hers, the one that was part gasp and part plea for more, he was lost. All conversation was behind him, and he knew the only thing left was to show her how much he loved her. Luckily for Killian, nothing had ever come so naturally.

The choice he must make this morning was between a fast and hard claiming, or a slow, steady savoring of two souls becoming one. The payoff for either was bound for greatness, but Killian was keenly aware of how everything would soon be different. Once they arrived back with his brothers, the solitude they’d cultivated would be encroached on, and though Killian had his own house, which could provide ample space and privacy, he also had a sneaking suspicion that his brother and fellow club members would be highly invested in him and his woman. After weeks of it being just the two of them, Killian knew he’d have to share Emma’s attentions, and that he too would have to interact with people other than his Swan. It would all be good in the end, but he wanted to make the most of these last truly secluded moments that they had together.

The teasing slowness of his ministrations became a torturous affair not just for Emma, but for him as well. He began by tasting her everywhere, tracing every line and curve of her, with extra attention paid to the places that made her blood sing. He hung on every breath she released, and every charged call of his name that whispered past her lips. When she came apart from his touch alone, his sense of pride surged dramatically, but the most beautiful sight was when she relaxed back into that post-climax moment, gazing at him with love in her eyes and nothing but a soul-deep contentment in her heart. It made a man feel worthy to know he had put that look on his woman’s face, and for Killian it was the closest he would ever feel to absolution. He’d done wrong in this life, made choices that veered well off the path of what was good or moral, but somehow, she still loved him, and Killian was better for that love.

By the time she was ready to be taken, Killian was so riled, his senses were frayed in all directions. Knowing that he was already worked up, Emma decided to push him further, murmuring that she loved him and asking him to make her his. The searing heat of his need for her was constant, but the feeling when he thrust inside and claimed her was the most agonizingly incredible feeling in the world. Nothing should feel this right, or this perfect, but with Emma it always did. Their rhythm was synced to perfection, their love palpable in the air around them, and though Killian did his best to savor every bit of it he could, it always felt like it was over far too soon. All it took was Emma arching her back, crying out in ecstasy, giving over to bliss, and he was right there with her, spent but saved and feeling like despite the uneasiness of this next moment, he and Emma could handle anything.

“Whatever happens today, it won’t change anything,” Emma said, her fingers running through his hair that was growing longer than he normally allowed it. She pushed it out of his face, before looking into his eyes and smiling in a way that melted his heart. “I love you, and I always will.”

“It’s the same for me, love, but rest assured, if you feel even the slightest discomfort, we will move on. We’re bound to nothing but each other.”

“Killian, this is your home -,” she began. He quieted her thought with a kiss before clarifying the truth to her.

“You are my home, Emma. Wherever you wish to be is where we will be, and I will be the happiest man alive just for being by your side.”

Emma readily accepted this promise from him, whispering that she felt the same as they continued to laze for a while more together, enjoying their connection and soaking in this last bit of privacy. Eventually, they had to get up and check out from this retreat, and they moved through the morning with a practiced precision of two people who had done this for weeks. Travelling had become second nature to them both, and the six-hour ride standing between them and his brothers would be easily managed.

For Killian, the journey honestly felt too short, though he made sure to stop and keep a steady pace for Emma’s sake. He knew she had never been to California before, and there was something magical about this place compared with every other. It was easily the most beautiful of the terrain they’d been in for weeks as well, and in Big Sur specifically, there was a natural beauty totally unique to this corner of the world. Giant forests rose impossibly high into the sky, a cross between the woods of the pacific northwest and the jungles of South America. Trees stood so tall the tops could not be seen, and even in patches where fires had blazed in seasons past, life prevailed, with green vegetation growing from ash and soot and dust. When they reached the ocean, Killian felt Emma’s hold on him tighten, an indicator of her excitement, but he still drove quite a few miles down the cliff-lined coastal highway before pulling off to stop.

“Now this is the kind of view I could get used to,” Emma murmured as he helped her off the bike, taking in the secluded patch of beach they’d driven towards where not a soul was nearby. With her hand in his, Killian immediately felt stronger, but the look on Emma’s face prompted a gentle, pleasant aching in his heart. She was happy to be here, in awe of this place, and to Killian that meant everything.

“We’re closing in on our destination now, love. We’ll be back well within the hour if we drive straight through, but there’s something I would very much like to show you, if you’re interested.”

“Lead the way, Captain.”

He led her down the pebbled path to the seaside, torn between watching her reactions and actually navigating their course. The best part of this was that Emma had no idea what was coming. They’d approached from the perfect angle, preserving a truly hidden gem from sight. Only when they rounded the corner would she see it, and as they made their move, he heard her gasp and felt her hand squeeze his tightly.

“Oh my God… I don’t even have words for how beautiful this is.”

Killian completely understood the feeling, though his own sensation of being struck speechless by something truly stunning often came directly from Emma. In this case, the beauty in question was an old, yet faithfully enduring shore house. It was painted white, weathered from storms, but still well-kept and largely preserved against the passage of time. The nearby community saw to it, since the owners of the home had long since gone. This shoreline was all public lands now, but the house remained, a testament to the man who once lived there, a gifted artist, and a natural born storyteller.

The remnants of his decades old art were painted, drawn, and constructed into the very foundation of this home and the mediums of expression were all treasures from the sea. Sea glass especially was plentiful here, drawing dizzying swirls of color along the house, the wood working and more. The glass had been cemented there for decades, but it shone with the same fervor and sparkle as ever. Shells of all shades, some whole and some not, were also used. Iridescent golden hued pieces, hewn from the mix of cold ocean water and warmer kelp garden pools were the stars of the show. They were each a small treasure uniquely found along these rocky coasts, often collected by the sea otters who called this sea shore home. This collection of the rare shells was astounding, and made all the more beautiful by being mixed in with others that were delicate shades of white and ivory and some that were a cooler oyster blue. They hung from wind chimes in the beach trees and off the lanterns, while some darker shells had been ground down to a painted stain that had been used in part to tattoo larger rocks that were too big for the sea to claim. Wherever the eye looked it was drawn to spiraling shapes and stories, never running out of objects to admire.

“How have I never heard of this? And how are we possibly the only ones here?” Emma asked, moving closer and looking at the intricate designs of shells and stones that had been added to the sands and earth more recently. A local commission of artists was in charge of these added displays of beauty, updating them occasionally, but usually waiting for nature to clear the slate. After a big storm where rainwater washed it all away, or higher tides than normal where the sea came just to the house’s front steps, new designs were created and enacted. But it was clear that there had only been sun for some time, and they were fresh on the heels of an exceptionally well-done redesign.

“Very few people know of this place, love. It’s a secret that is guarded by the people of this town so tightly you’ll find no books or blogs or trace of it anywhere. Liam and I are two very rare exceptions, outsiders with the good fortune to know it’s here.”

“How did that happen?” Emma asked, leaning into him and eager for the story from his past.

“My brother and I needed escape when we were here with our father, but we had little means of finding it,” he admitted, bracing himself for talk of that past life, and knowing he should get used to it now that they were nearly home. “The sea was the only thing of comfort for both of us, and we came to it as often as we could. We scoured every last bit of the coast, and I mean every bit. One day we landed here, and happened upon this house as we were searching the coastline for unknown coves. It was easily the best find we ever made. Of course, we nearly scared the life out of the woman who was crafting the shellscape that day, and once she alerted the other town’s people there was a big to do. We were sworn to secrecy and all the like. We never did tell a soul. It remained our secret – one idyllic hideaway from the world we lived in.”

“But now you’ve broken your oath,” Emma said, looking at him curiously, though she was clearly glad for his breach of that old promise.

“Some may believe that.”

“But you don’t?”

“No, love. I believe the promises I have made and will make to you supersede any others. Besides, I am fairly certain that the promise is null when it comes to my wife.”

“Funny, I don’t remember getting married,” Emma said, though her teasing was a front for the rush of emotions she was feeling. “In fact, I don’t even remember you proposing.”

Let’s change that, he thought to himself knowing he had the ring in his pocket right now, but reason won out in the end, and he remembered his plan. He wanted to get Emma totally settled into their new life first, and to make sure she was ready in all ways. He knew she loved him and that she would be his forever, but it was only right to ensure that he do things properly.

“Soon enough, love. You have my word on that.”

Emma grinned at his affirmation, pulling him down by the collar of his leather jacket and kissing him passionately. When they broke apart, she asked him to promise they’d come back here and he did, and after a bit more time in this private oasis, they headed back to the road, driving towards their destination once more.

The ride along the coast was quick, far quicker than he remembered, and when they pulled off the coastal highway and to the discrete exit leading to the town he’d once grown up in, Killian could sense Emma’s surprise. They didn’t need to share a conversation for him to gauge her apprehension and excitement. She was no doubt wondering if they were really going to be living amongst this dense and beautiful forest. It would be a big change from her life in the cities she’d always known.

Soon enough they made it to the town line, reading the hunter green placard that announced their arrival. Unsure of what he expected, Killian was surprised to see just how much improvement had been made in his time away. Their town had always been quaint, but it could easily be described as ‘down on its luck’ when he was a boy. He knew it was his brother’s hope to not only remove the stain of his father’s shady dealings, but to help revitalize this community in a way that had been lacking for decades. But when Killian departed to seek his revenge on Gold, those ideas were mere figments of a would-be dream.

Liam has truly made good, he thought to himself as they cruised down the main street. Here along the town’s center there were new businesses and old ones that had been repaired and shaped for competing in the world today. Things were still classic and beachy, but the energy around it all gave away two important facts: the first was that this town was being tended to and cared for by its tenants, the second was that it was also being protected, and that anything that may threaten this currently peaceful ecosystem would not be allowed.

In this stretch of the ride, Killian could see some familiar faces in the mix, people from his old life in this town who were going about their day to day none the wiser about his return. There were also quite a few new faces as well, but Killian could spot the tourists right away. Their biggest tell was their fixation on his bike. People who lived in this region regularly would be densensitized, and since Liam had imposed a safety parameter for the town from other gangs, they wouldn’t bat an eye, even at a biker without his cut.

Not far beyond the center of town was the Den, the once large warehouse that had been reconfigured to fit the Land Pirate members and families when need be. When he was here last, the place was little more than a dump, with tell-tale signs of partying strewn about both outside and within. There was also a crappy, rusted gate around the perimeter that did the job of securing the place on some level, but had always been a huge eyesore. Gone was all of that, and in its stead was higher tech, better quality fencing. The Den was now fortified, and Killian could see the precautions put in place that passersby may not realize were installed. He also took note of the probie standing guard at the entrance.

Well this should be interesting, Killian thought as he drove up. He had no idea who this probationary member of the club was. Killian would have to explain who he was and that could get awkward. But before he had the chance the unknown man was speaking.

“Well I’ll be damned. Pres was right. Hook’s come home again.”

“Pres?” Emma whispered and Killian replied quietly.

“That’s Liam’s title here, love.”

“And Hook?”

“My road name.” Emma nodded, taking it all in stride as Killian turned his attention back to the probie. “So, he’s expecting me then?”

“Has been for weeks. You sure took your time getting out here, Hook.”

He looked at the probationary patch on the man’s Land Pirates leather cut and saw the stitched name ‘Mouse.’ Had to be a story behind that name. Didn’t exactly blend with the others who were patched in when Killian was here. “How do you even know who I am?”

“You kidding? You’re a legend, man, and so is she.”

For a minute Killian tensed up, thinking that Mouse was talking about Emma. He was feeling protective, and didn’t like the idea of other men looking her way unless they were going to show the proper respect. Only when Emma let out a laugh did he realize his mistake.

“Oh my God, you mean the bike! That’s classic. Please tell me it has a name.” Emma’s joking was incredibly apparent, and Killian was surprised at how nonplussed she was by their being on unknown turf.

“She,” Mouse stressed and Emma bit back her laugh, but her body still shook with it. “And yeah, bikes get names.”

“Wait don’t tell me. This will be way more fun if I can guess. Hmm, Harley? No that’s kind of obvious. Uh, I mean what do you call a gendered bike? Kind of a tall order… Oh I know, Lady. Kind of on the nose with the whole ‘it’s a she’ thing, but it works, right?”

Killian chuckled at the way Emma was enjoying herself, and he noticed the look of shock on the probie’s face. Clearly he didn’t understand the situation. This was no ordinary woman on the back of his ride giving him shit for having named his bike. This was the most important person in his world, and no one, club member or not, was going to question that.

“Look, kid, my woman and I have been on the road for awhile. We could use the rest, and it’s probably best not to keep my brother waiting anymore.” The overt use of the label for Emma created a total mood shift in Mouse. He had taken the hint.

“Absolutely, Hook. Ma’am.”

The change in tone as he nodded at them and buzzed them through to the compound was pronounced, so much so that Emma mentioned it when they parked and she stepped off the motorcycle.

“Is the somewhat caveman ‘me man, she my woman’ thing baked into this whole MC life?” Emma asked, her brow arched even as a smile teased at her lips. “I’m not complaining, per se. Just curious if I’ll have to announce my belonging to you everywhere I go.”

“Probies are probies for a reason, love, and the reason is they’ve got a whole lot to learn and more than one thing to prove. The men in this club with a patch, my brothers, they know better than to disrespect a woman, Old Lady or not.”

“Ah right, I forgot about that charming title. I don’t know who possibly came up with that one. ‘Old Lady.’ It’s so… unflattering. Had to be a man.”

“In this world, you can blame nearly everything on a man, love,” Killian quipped and Emma grinned at his assessment before continuing to lament the biker term for a man’s significant other.

“I honestly thought I’d have a few years before getting called ‘old lady’ and even then it would be by bratty neighborhood kids, not hot guys in leather who name their motorcycles.” Killian growled at the mention of men being hot and Emma teased him with a nip against his lips that was designed to have him wanting more but was only meant in jest. “But don’t worry, I’ll make up for all of this somehow. I’m gonna find you the perfect partner nickname that undercuts how irresistibly sexy I find you in all your leather. I just need a little time.”

“You can call me any damn thing you want, Emma. As long as you call me yours.”

The words were honest and immediately shifted the sass of Emma’s commentary to something softer. Instinctively, she placed a gentle and loving kiss on his lips before they both turned to the warehouse. Together they walked hand in hand towards the door, and when they entered, Killian held his breath. Would this place look like the nightmare of his youth? The place he’d have fought through anything to get away from? It took only the briefest moment to see those worries were unfounded.

Killian was utterly relieved at how normal the Den looked, and how the relic of old had been completely rehabilitated. The general concept was the same, starting with a vastness in the entrance that made it seem like this place went on forever. The entryway blended into a great room where club members and guests spent a lot of time, and in the back there’d surely be more changes to go along with these ones. Killian knew the kitchen and living quarters, the war room and Liam’s office all would have been revamped if this part of the warehouse was. But this communal space in particular held a lot of painful memories. The ghosts of this place had haunted him for some time, but they were nearly all cast away by the warmth and modern makings of this renovation. It made Killian want to see more, something he never truly believed was possible, but as curious as Killian was, there simply wasn’t time. Soon the renovation was forgotten, and instead he was faced with the all important figure standing there, waiting for him after years of no contact.

“Liam.”

…

Post-Note: So I know I have stopped it right at the start of a hugely important reunion, but I fully intend to make up for it in the next chapter. Introducing the actual MC is going to be such fun for me, but, as with this chapter, it may take some time before I have a next installment out. My muse has been tricky, but I am hoping to get a bigger chunk of my story, ‘Feels Like This’ written by the end of the year so I can hopefully finish it up. Anyway, I would love to hear what you all thought of this chapter, and as always, I really appreciate you all reading and thank you so much for the support! Until next time!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #emma swan #killian jones #cs mc #cs mc fic #ouat mc #the whole storybrooke gang #when we collide #when we collide au #when we collide 5 #motorcycle club au

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queenmylovely · 4 years

Text

Wedding Party- Mini ii

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. Your normal Sunday routine with Ben is interrupted by a hangover.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: cussing, smut (fingering, protected sex, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

Request: smut and hanging around being cute?- requested by my roommate

A/N: I still love these two and they deserve all the soft smut in the world. I think I’m done with 700 stuff (I mean unless anyone wants to send more stuff) other than something that was sent in that might have taken on a life of its own. Keep tuned. Any feedback is super appreciated but especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!

what’s going on send me stuff!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Mini i, Masterlist

(ignore joey but that’s how ben looks at you, gif by @mrbenhardys)

💖💖💖

A month and a half after Lucy and Rami’s wedding, you and Ben had developed a good routine that started with going out on Saturday nights, whether it was to dinner, to a bar, over to Lucy and Rami’s, or whatever plans you could scare up. Then you would go to his or yours, it alternated every weekend, have hot sex and crash for the night. The next day you would laze around, having a relaxed brunch of pancakes or waffles, eating them as they came off the griddle. You two might help each other do whatever chores you needed to do, if you had the motivation. If not, it’d just be a nice day to hang out and probably have some lazy sex in the afternoon.

This Sunday was pretty much the same and the two of you were laying in bed at your apartment about an hour after waking up. The night before was another of Lucy and Rami’s game nights, and since you were staying at your place, you drove. It was the last one before Joe had to go back to the states (though he still wasn’t leaving for another week). Since you were driving, you told Ben to live it up and he really listened, getting too drunk to do anything but be put straight to bed once you got to your place.

So today, Ben was extremely hung over. Lucky for him, and you, he wasn’t the type to throw up, but he did have a raging headache and achy body. So when the two of you had gotten up, you had drawn the blinds and closed the curtains to block out the bright sunlight. And you had gotten him a glass of water and aspirin to help the headache.

Then he had looked at you with puppy dog eyes and jutted out those lips of his in a pout and asked, “Can you give me a massage?”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced, pushing him onto his stomach. Then you straddled his lower back and started with his arms. From his biceps down to his forearms to his hands, you got every inch while Ben hummed his approval. Next you moved to his shoulders and neck, working out the tension and Ben groaned when you worked out a knot with your elbow.

“You know, you should get regular massages with all the working out you do. You don’t get knots from being hungover,” you pointed out.

“Mhmm,” was all that Ben managed.

After his upper back, you did a quick bit over his lower back because that wasn’t very sore or tense. Then turned around so you were facing the other way. You even did a few rubs over his ass, then gave it a quick swat which made Ben cry out, “Babe!” and you laughed.

“I refuse to do your feet for a hangover,” you told him and he chuckled, so instead you started with his calves.

Once they were done, you slowly moved up his thighs and you probably spent a little extra time there, but who could blame you? Lastly you started to work your way up his inner thighs and you heard Ben’s breath catch. You kept going and Ben moaned, more sexual than relaxed.

“You good, baby?” you asked with a light laugh.

“Fuck, you got me hard,” he lifted his head from his arms and said with a little whine in his voice that made you feel a type of way.

“Too bad you have too big of a headache to fuck right now,” you said wistfully.

“Says you,” he countered, turning to look at you, but still squinting his eyes due to the light.

“Well me is who you have to convince to get fucked,” you pointed out. Then you got up from on top of him and said, “I’m going to make some breakfast. You’re welcome to join if you can stand the light in the kitchen.”

Ben groaned and put his head back on his arms as you walked away.

A couple hours later with some food in your stomach (you had taken some to Ben who was still in your bedroom), you were lounging on the couch, reading a book with soft music playing over the speakers.

Ben came walking out of your bedroom, rubbing his eyes and groaning softly.

“Did you have a nice little nap, baby?” you asked with a smile, putting your book to the side.

He nodded sleepily and then asked, “Can I lay down with you?”

“Yeah, come on,” you told him, holding your arms out for him. Since you were on your back, he laid down between your legs, resting his head on your chest. He pressed a soft kiss to your boob through your shirt and you laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly.

“Read to me, babe,” Ben said softly.

Picking up your book again, you found your page and then started reading. Ben interrupted every so often with questions to catch up but for the most part was quiet, paying attention to your voice.

The two of you laid like that for a while until your voice got tired and you set down the book again. Then you settled in and started playing with Ben’s hair lazily and he pressed another kiss to your chest. This time you didn’t swat his shoulder and he placed another kiss.

***

Ben’s hands smoothed up under your shirt and he brushed the sides of your breasts with his thumbs. The light touch made you shiver and Ben kissed his way to your right nipple, mouthing it over your shirt. You hummed and tugged his hair lightly to get him to switch to the other side. Once he had you breathing quicker, he helped you lift your shirt over your head.

“Yours too, baby,” you said with a smile and you helped him take it off. You ran your hands down his torso, thumbing at his nipples and feeling his abs.

Ben pressed hot kisses up from your chest to your neck and then finally reached your mouth. His lips moving against yours, it wasn’t long before you were moaning and opening your mouth for his tongue.

His hand traveled down your body and landed over your clothed pussy. He rubbed at your clit through your clothes and while it was good, you wanted more.

Breaking the kiss, you whispered against his lips, “I can just take them off for you.”

Ben chuckled against your mouth and took your pants and underwear off for you. You opened your mouth to say something but Ben beat you to it.

“I know, mine too,” he said with a laugh and you nodded happily.

Everything off, Ben’s hand came back between your thighs and his middle finger found your clit. You sighed and brought him to kiss you again, running your hands through his hair and then scratching your hands down his back.

Ben’s finger moved down to your entrance, pushing inside slowly and you moaned into his mouth. You could tell that Ben was into it too, his hard dick pressing against the side of your thigh. Ben pushed another finger in with the first and you gasped when the heel of his hand started to rub against your clit.

One of your hands on Ben’s hip, you pulled him closer to you until his hips were practically flush with yours.

He broke the kiss, “Uh, you’re kinda trapping my hand, babe.”

“Then move it-- out of the way-- I’m trying to get-- to something else,” you mumbled in between short kisses.

Ben grinned and moved his hand, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before jumping up from the couch.

“Ow, that hurt my head. Just a second,” Ben said, searching for his pants wherever they landed. Then he pulled a condom out of the pocket of his sweatpants and you laughed incredulously.

“Are you serious? Did you put a condom in your pocket ahead of time?” you said, still laughing.

“Well you said that I had to convince you and I knew that’d be pretty easy,” Ben admitted, already putting the condom on.

You gave him a mostly fake shocked look, “Are you saying I’m easy?”

“I’m speaking from previous experience. Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he said with a smirk, gesturing to himself.

“Shut up and get over here,” you said with a roll of your eyes, reaching up for him again.

He climbed back on top of you, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to guide his cock inside of your pussy slowly and he dropped his head to your shoulder. Then he just stayed there for a moment.

“Aren’t you going to move?” you asked, tapping the back of his head.

“I’m just feeling for a minute,” he explained, still staying still but lifting his head.

“You convinced me of fucking, not cockwarming, speed it up,” you told him wryly, clenching around him purposefully to entice him.

“Always so impatient,” he commented, finally starting to thrust. Even though he was still going slower than fast, he was going deep, and you made a happy sound at the feeling. “‘cept when you’re the one teasing.”

“That’s an entirely-- entirely different situation,” you said, stuttering a little when his hand found its way back to your clit.

“You should be able to take what you dish out,” was Ben’s rebuttal, but with how deep he was fucking you and the mix of frictions of his cock in your pussy and his fingers on your clit, your words escaped you.

All you could do was shush him before pulling him into another kiss. At least that didn’t need brainpower because your mouths always naturally worked together. But the slow pace and amazing feeling was making you itchy for more, like your fingertips were burning with need. So you kissed down his jaw to his neck, using your teeth to nip at all of the spots with faded hickeys on Ben’s neck. He would probably complain again that you kept giving him hickeys in the same spots, never letting them completely fade, but they looked so good there that you did it anyway.

When you nipped at his pulse point, Ben moaned and his hips snapped against yours and you gasped.

“Yes, Ben, do that-- do that again, again,” you said breathlessly.

To your relief, he did, and you continued your work on his neck. One particularly hard thrust had your pussy clenching around him and Ben whined, “aah fuck-- fuck, babe, you feel good, so good.”

“You too, so good, baby,” you breathed into his neck. “I’m gonna come, just keep going and come too, wanna feel it.”

Ben nodded frantically, keeping his hips thrusting into you even a little harder, and his fingers moved faster on your clit. A few more seconds and you were coming, your mouth pressed against Ben’s neck to stifle your moans as you felt the pleasure radiate from your pussy and clit out to burn along your back, neck, all the way out to your fingertips.

You came down and Ben was still going, still chasing his release like you told him to. Wanting to help him along, you wrapped your legs around his waist and just that little change in angle had him coming in two more thrusts. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, his pitchy moans next to your ear, and your aftershocks gave you a heady feeling that you now associated with sex with Ben. Knowing that you were able to make each other feel so good was a pleasure of its own and always kept you hungry for more.

Once Ben’s breathing had slowed a little, you leaned up and brought your lips to his in a soft and sweet kiss. After a couple minutes of lazily making out, you pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Alright, we gotta get up, baby. Still need to do meal prep for this week,” you reminded him and he groaned.

“Let’s just stay here a little while longer,” Ben tried, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll give you five more minutes,” you said.

“Fine, but you have to give me some of the food to take home,” lifting his head to look at you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, “Of course.”

💖💖💖

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#my fav sex positive couple #and theyre in love already just fyi #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben jones #wedding party #queenmylovely #fic #series #fluff #smut #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #borhap x reader #borhap boys #borhap cast #bohemian rapsody movie

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