#you put me in a stool and i’m bowing out an hour in. give me an armchair? i’ll still be there 8 hours later flirting with someone ineptly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladytauria · 7 months

Note

"tell me a secret" with jaytim if youre still taking prompts, been enjoying all of the snippets!

um.

so.

this one ran away with me. a little bit.

it's. it feels very messy. but i like the direction i ended up going with it. i think--- i think i might revisit this premise again. but for now, nonny, i hope you like it!

(also, i'm glad you enjoyed my snippets~)

There are few things worse than truth pollen, in Tim’s opinion. Give him fear gas or sex pollen any day of the week. Losing control of his tongue, confessions spilling from his mouth, helpless to do anything to stop it… It makes him shudder just to think about.

However—

He would gladly have taken a blast of truth pollen right to the face, if it meant Jason wouldn’t have.

Jason’s locked himself in an isolation cell, now, while Tim synthesizes an antidote. The general pollen vaccine had done little to help the effects of this strain. Confessions had tumbled from Jason’s lips all the way home, all through the blood draw. Tim tries hard not to think about them, to forget them completely, but they linger in the back of his mind. Whether he wants them to be or not, he knows they’ve been imprinted in the back of his mind, where they’ll be sorted and cataloged, brought out later if ever he needs them.

He never forgets. It’s something of a curse.

As soon as the antidote finishes, Tim sends it to Jason through a panel in the isolation cell. It should take an hour for it to kick in—Tim will be upstairs, whenever Jason is ready.

Two hours pass before Jason joins him. Tim sits at the kitchen island, hands around a mug. Steam still wafts up from it; his face warm and damp where it caresses his skin.

“That better not be coffee,” Jason says. He sounds even grumpier than usual—not that Tim can blame him.

He chooses not to comment on his mood, for the moment.

“It’s not,” he says. “It’s tea.” He pauses. “Herbal tea.”

Jason grunts.

“There’s some for you on the counter.” He gestures.

Jason rounds the counter, finally coming into view. Tim’s shoulders loosen a little at the sight of him; curls and skin damp from a shower, cotton tee sticking to him. Sweatpants ride low on his hips. His socks have little gray cats on them.

“Did your cameras alert you I was coming up?”

Tim ignores the confrontational sneer in his tone. “No.”

For a moment, Jason’s body tenses like he’s going to challenge him on it—turn it into a fight, until one of them storms out or ends up sleeping in the guest room. Then he finds his tea, in a thermal traveling cup. The tension drains from him, then; weariness in the bow of his shoulders. He takes the cup and joins Tim at the island, settling onto the stool next to his.

Their shoulders brush. Tim knows it’s as close to an apology as he’ll get right now. He brushes against him again when he raises his mug to his mouth; a silent forgiveness.

Jason drinks his tea. He hums softly; a quiet, pleased noise.

They drink in silence. Tim wouldn’t describe it as comfortable, but the air isn’t as thick with tension as it could have been. He knew they would have to address it before they went to sleep; knew, for a while at least, that things would be… delicate. He’s not looking forward to walking on tiptoes—but it’s better than the alternative. It’s better than Jason leaving.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Tim murmurs, finally. “I’m not— I won’t ask. We can pretend like you never said anything.”

Jason is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper. Tim isn’t sure he would have heard it, if he hadn’t been listening for it.

He brushes against him again, as he gets up to put his mug in the sink. He smooths his hand over Jason’s back; from one shoulder to the other as he walks by—both touches a silent reassurance.

He puts his mug in the sink and stops by Jason again. This time, he kisses his temple. “I’m going to bed,” he murmurs. “Join me when you’re ready.”

Jason leans into his touch—turning, when Tim pulls away, to catch around the waist and pull him close. He kisses the corner of Tim’s eye. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Tim squeezes his forearm. “I love you too,” he breathes.

They stay like that for a moment—a long moment. And then, finally, Jason lets him go, smearing another kiss against his skin when he does. Tim lingers a moment more, and then he heads off to their bedroom.

It’s maybe ten, fifteen minutes before Jason joins him, curling up in Tim’s arms; letting Tim plaster himself against his back, sighing sweetly when Tim’s chin rests atop his curls. He tangles their fingers together over their stomach.

Tim falls asleep knowing everything is going to be okay.

Tim doesn’t just forget about it. He can’t—though he tries. The things Jason said turn over and over in his mind, every time there’s a lull at work, on patrol, in the quiet moments he spends with Jason. He keeps his word. He doesn’t ask about them. He doesn’t even go digging through Batman’s files, or the city’s files—although the temptation sits heavy on his shoulders.

Instead—he ends up thinking, again and again, about secrets.

About Jason’s. About his own. About all the things that sit, buried deep under his tongue, where he would never dare to speak them aloud. But the more he thinks about the more he sees them as cracks—fissures, things not sitting quietly in himself but things keeping them apart.

He finds himself wanting to dig them up. To look at them in the light, offer them to Jason; see if he finds even those parts of him worth loving.

He wants to do the same to Jason. To look at the ugliest parts of him again—this time without the wrongness of pollen coating them—and cradle them in his hands, tuck them in the spaces between his ribs. Soothe the hurts they left behind.

Tim knows Jason won’t let him.

But.

Tim has never needed reciprocation.

He starts offering them, impromptu, in their quiet moments.

“Sometimes I feel more like myself in a dress and heels than I do in a suit,” he confesses, while Jason is reading; Tim’s head in his lap while he plays on his switch. “I’ve thought about looking into it—but honestly. Exploring... that on top of everything else just sounds exhausting.”

Jason pauses, fingers in Tim’s hair, and says, “If you ever want to, I’ll support you. I’ll love you, no matter what you decide.”

Tim turns and kisses his stomach.

A few days later, they’re cooking together. Tim stirs noodles, while Jason chops vegetables. “The first time I dressed up as a woman, I looked so much like my mother I almost couldn’t leave the manor. I don't think I would have, if not for the mission.”

The knife pauses; the sound of chopping stops. “That must have been a lot,” Jason says, tentatively.

Tim doesn’t have to look over to know Jason is giving him a weird look. He can feel it on the back of his head.

“It was,” he agrees. “Are you sure I salted this enough?”

His next confession is delivered when Tim is donning one of his aliases for an undercover job. Jason is sweet enough to do up his zipper for him.

“I created my first alias when I was seven. I mean, I guess it was more playing pretend, but... I dunno. It felt more serious than that, even then. I kept making more as I got older, trying them on... whenever I felt like it. Now it’s something I do as a hobby, to keep my skills sharp, but there was a time when I wanted to be anyone other than Tim Drake.”

Jason meets his eyes in the mirror; gaze unfathomable. “What changed?”

Tim’s lips quirk. “It’s hard to fall in love as anyone but yourself.”

The flush on Jason’s face is vivid red. Tim is helpless to do anything but turn and kiss him.

After a fight, Tim calls Jason. It goes straight to voicemail—not unexpected. It still makes his heart clench. He ignores it, instead offering,

“Jason… I’m sorry, for what I said, earlier. It— It wasn’t true. I meant it when I said I can live with you killing. I don’t—I don’t… The truth is, I don’t disagree with your methods. I’m tempted to join you, sometimes. A lot of times. I’m tempted to go even further, too. I… Sometimes I think the only thing that keeps me from going bad is Dick’s disappointment. Bruce’s, too, but. I don’t care what he thinks as much anymore.

“Some days the temptation is stronger than others, though. And that— It scares me. I cling tighter to the rules in response. I… It’s not an excuse for me to hurt you, though. I’m sorry. I love you. Come home whenever you’re ready.” He’s crying when he finishes, hanging up the phone. Thinks about staying in the basement; distracting himself with cold cases instead of going to bed.

He decides he’s disappointed Jason enough.

Jason comes home that night. Slips into their bed, gathering Tim in his arms.

“You could never go bad,” he whispers. “You’re too fucking good, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head, burying his face in Jason’s neck. “If I convinced myself it was right, or for a good cause…” He holds him tighter.

Jason is quiet. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t even hesitate.

“Then trust that I wouldn’t let you.”

Tim knows Jason has broken his own moral code more than once.

He also knows that Jason is far more careful with the people he loves than he is himself.

It’s a trait they share.

So he nods. “Okay.”

“And you’ll do the same for me,” he says, softly—almost tentatively.

Tim holds him tighter. “Yes.”

He’s quiet for so long Tim thinks he falls asleep. Then, he offers, quietly, “Sometimes I think I’ll go too far, and— You’ll leave. Or that you’ll wake up one day, and realize I’m not going to change, that… That you can’t handle the killing after all. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.” He doesn’t say, I thought I was losing you tonight, but Tim hears it anyway.

He kisses Jason’s neck. “You won’t,” he says, confidently. “But— If you ever do, or if it looks like you’re going to— I promise I’ll tell you. Warn you. I won’t just disappear without giving you a chance.”

Jason shudders in his arms. He tucks his face in Tim’s hair—Tim cups the back of his neck in response. “Feels like all you’ve given me a hundred second chances,” he whispers.

Tim nuzzles him. “I’ll give you a hundred more. You’re worth it.”

Jason starts making his own confessions, after that.

He lights a candle on the coffee table, filling the air with the scent of sandalwood. Then he stops. Turns his lighter over in his hand—flicks it on, then off again.

“I didn’t stop smoking because of how I died, or the Pit, or Talia, or for my health, or—any of the bullshit reasons I told everyone else. Sheila— Cigarettes remind me of her. The way she just sat there and watched.”

Tim stands, stepping into his space. He winds his arms around Jason’s waist. “You deserved better,” he says, quietly.

“We both did.”

‘We’ means Tim and Jason. It also means Sheila and Jason. Tim doesn’t know if he agrees with the latter—but. Whatever else she was, she was Jason’s mother, and that means something to Jason. So, he says nothing. Just presses a kiss to Jason’s shoulder.

After a rough patrol, another argument between Jason and Bruce—one that took both Nightwing and Red Robin to break up—Jason sits in the medbay of Tim’s nest, letting him stitch up his arm.

Tim is almost done, when Jason says, “I’ve given up on Bruce killing the Joker for me. I wish he’d let me do it. More than that—I just. I want him to tell me, to my face, that he missed me. That he loved me. That the loss of me was something painful. That—That he still loves me. I don’t. I don’t want to hear it from someone else. But I know— I know he won’t. The man who would have died with me, and sometimes I think that’s the worst of it all.”

Tim snips the thread, laying the needle down. He kisses the skin just above the wound, and lingers there. “I’m sorry.”

Jason is quiet. Then he turns, pressing his nose into Tim’s hair. He doubts it smells great—he hasn’t had time to hit the showers yet—but Jason doesn’t seem to care. “Me too,” he whispers.

Tim gets a box of cologne samples in the mail. He’s going through them, just for fun—handing the ones he likes best to Jason. As he passes over the third, Jason says,

“I don’t remember what Mom’s voice sounded like anymore—but. I found the perfume she loved. It was one of the most expensive things we owned. She only got it out for special occasions, or—or when she was sad, and needed something to help remind her of the good times. I— When I smell it, I can almost hear her again. Singing in the kitchen, or… Reading with me on the couch.”

Tim puts the cologne samples down. He tucks himself against Jason’s side and holds him tight. The vulnerability in Jason’s voice, in his expression… It scares Tim almost as much as it awes him. He just— He wants to protect him, to hold the softest parts of Jason close, where nothing and no one can hurt him again.

It’s an impossible wish, but. That won’t stop him from trying.

“Tell me about her?” he asks softly, laying his cheek over Jason’s heart. The steady beat is calming.

Hesitatingly—haltingly—

Jason does.

It keeps going. Back and forth.

“Sometimes I think no one actually wants me around—that people are happier when I’m not there.”

“I think I left a piece of myself in the grave. It hurts less that it’s missing these days, but. It still hurts.”

“I never felt like I was alive until I became Robin. That’s part of why losing it hurt so much.”

“Sometimes Bruce and Dick will mention things—and I don’t remember them. They sound like happy memories, but, when I go poking around, all I can find are blank spaces. It’s fucking terrifying.”

“In the early days—sometimes Bruce would forget, and call me by your name. I… It feels awful to admit, but. Those nights were my favorite.”

“I hate looking in the mirror. For—for a million fucking reasons, but one of ‘em is how much I look like my dad. Like Willis. He wasn’t a bad man, except when he drank. He just… he drank a lot. I don’t want to be him.”

Secrets traded, back and forth. A lot of them big, some of them small. Always in the quietest moments, in the carefullest tones. Each one met with acceptance, with love.

Tim feels freer than he ever has. Not even swinging between buildings leaves his step so light.

He thinks Jason feels the same; thinks he smiles more, now. Tim has caught him humming in the kitchen more than once—finds himself humming the same tune.

Tim has never needed reciprocation to love someone.

Jason has given it to him anyway.

Ivy’s not done with truth pollen—determined to perfect this strain. This time, Tim is on the other side of the city when Jason catches a face full. He doesn’t miss a beat; working with Spoiler to wrangle her back to Arkham. As soon as it’s handled, he beelines back to the Nest.

Tim meets him there.

Jason doesn’t lock himself in an isolation cell, this time. He works with Tim to distill the antidote. Tim isn’t foolish enough to believe that all of the secrets Jason has buried in the recesses of his mind have come to light. He knows his haven’t. He knows, too, that for both of them, there are some which never will. That's okay. Jason has shared enough that the pollen’s compulsion has little to cling to; little to nourish its roots.

So this time—he doesn’t talk as much, this time; only the occasional confession spilling from his lips.

Most of them make Tim blush.

It’s a torturous hour—albeit for entirely different reasons than last time—and it ends not with a shared cup of tea but Tim pinned to the wall in the Nest shower, Jason on his knees, worshiping him until stars burst behind his eyes.

Tim turns the tables on him as soon as he remembers which way is up—and then they stumble upstairs, to bed, curling into one another like two mis-matched halves.

Jason tangles their fingers together. “Tell me a secret,” he whispers, to the darkness of the room.

Tim does.

#jaytim #timjay #dcu #tauriawritesfanfic #asks and answers #lovely anons #this is almost 3k <3

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sunflowersandsapphires · 2 months

Text

From Bright Light

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 5

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around.

warnings: swearing (as always), very general descriptions of dissociation, Frank is clearly hurting and not handling things well, small descriptions of violence, last fluff chapter before angst

a/n: I am finally a few chapters ahead on both my WIPs! Hopefully I can start posting more regularly this spring/summer. As always, reblogs and comments fuel me!

w/c: 5.3k

Gritting his teeth as a rogue biker almost knocked him to the pavement, Frank ignored the man’s irritated screaming and stalked forward down the block. Despite the early hour of the morning and the lack of activity in the city, it seemed that the disgustingly high temperature had already put everyone in a mood. He certainly wasn’t a fan of the way the heat coated his skin and drew beads of sweat from his pores, soaking his freshly washed shirt all the way through before he even reached the cafe. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but stopping at your workplace for coffee had become his new normal. And, given his deteriorating mood this week, deviating from his routine was sure to ruin his day.

So he persisted. Yanking his beanie further down on his forehead and shoving his hands into his pockets, he stared straight ahead and soldiered through the remaining few minutes in the heat before clasping his hand around the handle on the glass door, pulling on it hastily—and nearly falling to the ground when the door didn’t budge. The smirking face of your coworker Leo appeared through the tinted glass shortly after.

“Sorry about that,” The kid apologized, shoving the door open for him and stepping aside. “We technically don’t open for another hour.”

Staring at him quizzically, Frank threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Shit, I can go, if ya want. I didn’t—“

“You kidding?” Leo gave him an incredulous look. “The princess would have my head if I turned her prince away. C’mon in. I’m sure she’s expecting you.”

Rolling his shoulders, the marine straightened his spine and set his jaw, expression stuck in an embarrassed grimace. Stepping over the threshold and into the bakery, the air around him seemed to suddenly grow colder, a shiver running down his back. Glancing upwards to find the offending vent, he frowned when his eyes met a stretch of blank ceiling. Your coworker's smug voice brought his eyes back down.

“She's in the kitchen, Pete.” Though the kid wasn't meeting his gaze, Frank had the sneaking suspicion that he was trying not to laugh.

Flushing, he gave a curt nod, stepping around the counter and into the back room. It wasn't his first time past the batwing doors, but the scene felt surprisingly intimate nonetheless. Through the maze of steel tables and rows of ingredients, he found you. You were perched on a stool in the back corner, away from the dingy windows that peeked out front. Your back was turned to him, displaying the lopsided bow cinched around the waist of your dress. Spine hunched, you were gesturing wildly with one of your hands, the other holding a phone to your ear as you spoke in a hushed voice.

As the kitchen doors whooshed shut, you looked up, eyes wide like a fawn's. Giving him a tiny wave and a strained smile, you spoke with a bit more clarity.

“I gotta go, mom. I'll see you soon. Ok, bye.” Making a big show of hanging up the phone and slipping it into your apron pocket, your smile widened, finally meeting your eyes as you exhaled forcefully. Standing from the stool, you traipsed over to him, skirt swishing around your calves.

“Hey Frankie! Sorry about that,” You wrinkled your nose at the mention of the call. Finally reaching him, you wound your arms around his waist. While he normally melted into your warmth, his nerves were still on edge after the interaction with Leo—his body stiffly returning the embrace but maintaining a small, emotional distance for his own sanity.

Withdrawing from him, you frowned, brows curving inward with confusion. “Is something wrong?”

Blinking as he tried to form a coherent thought from the symphony of anxieties screeching in his brain, he shook his head. “Nah. All good.”

Narrowing your eyes, you moved away skeptically, headed for the front of the shop. “Alrighty then. Let me start a pot of coffee and—”

“D'you usually open early for me?” He blurted out, face itching as it was overtaken by his furious blush.

Your expression remained bemused as you shrugged. “Depends on when you get here, I guess. Why?“

”You shoulda told me.“ He murmured, heart pounding as your face began to fall. What he meant to say was that he didn't mean to put you out. That he had no idea why he'd been blessed with someone who was sweet enough to open her shop an hour early every day for weeks just to make him a cup of coffee. That he felt like an idiot for thinking that you were just especially slow in the mornings and not even considering that he'd been receiving special treatment. That he felt awful for interrupting your morning preparations for almost a month now because he was a sorry sack of shit who couldn't handle being restless and alone in his own apartment, so he decided to bother you every morning instead.

But all that his exhausted and anxiety-ridden mind could come up with were those four words. And his throat was so tight with emotion that they sounded gruff and angry.

Watching you swallow roughly and avert your eyes, he ached to apologize, to correct himself, to wipe that horrible expression of hurt from your beautiful face—but he was cemented in place, awaiting your response.

”I'm sorry, Frank. I saw you out there weeks ago while I was baking and I let you in without thinking. After that, I just never corrected you. I didn't want you to feel bad. I'm sorry.“

As if you'd flipped a switch, the life returned to his body, his posture sagging as you apologized. The pained expression you wore shattered his cold heart, driving him to finally explain himself.

”Shit, no, don't be sorry, sunshine.“ He cursed, striding over to you and pulling you into a second embrace, a real one this time.

Sighing into his chest, your arms tightened instinctively around his waist as he kneaded a circle into your back with his palm. ”Are you mad?“

Resting his nose in your hair, his heart sank at the fear in your tone. ”Course not, honey. Next time I’m early, tell me to fuck off, ok?“

A few giggles burst out of you and you squeezed your arms around him one more time before pulling away. ”Not a chance, tough guy. Did you still want that coffee?”

“I mean, if it’s bein’ offered,” He shrugged, the barest hint of a smirk gracing his lips as you grinned and dashed out of the kitchen.

Grabbing a stool and yanking it across the floor, he set it next to the station you appeared to be working at. Straddling the metal seat, he studied the array of items strewn across the bench, trying to decide what you'd been working on before he arrived. Before he could decipher what half of the ingredients were, you'd returned with his coffee and a latte of your own.

Handing him the paper cup, your eyes crinkled as you smiled softly. “Here you are, sir. Your disgusting, unedited, hot black coffee.”

“Ya know, I don't think I'd get this much crap from the cafe down the street.” He scoffed, taking a sip of the scalding drink to hide his smile. “Maybe I oughta start goin' there instead.”

“That's always an option,” You shrugged, handing him a danish wrapped in thin brown paper. “But then you'd have to jump through those same hoops again to get free breakfast. Court the baristas, and all that. Whole lotta effort for someone who's already a fan favorite at another bakery.”

“Fan favorite, huh?” He tilted his head at you, poorly hiding his amusement with a raised brow.

“What can I say, Frankie? You've really grown on us. Even though you have shit taste in coffee.” You grimaced dramatically, eyes dancing with humor.

A laugh tumbled from his lips mindlessly. He shook his head before raising the danish. “Thank you. For the free breakfast.”

You responded with a clumsy curtsy. “Why, of course, sweetheart.”

“So,” Frank said around a mouthful of the danish, “What are you workin’ on?”

Beaming at him, you jumped up and down gleefully. “Eek! I’m so glad you asked. So—“

As you launched into an energetic dialogue about the myriad of new ingredients you were hoping to work with this week, Frank felt at ease. Somehow, your presence always seemed to have that effect, pushing away his negative thoughts and anxieties until he relaxed fully. You brought out a side of him that he’d locked away for years. Your voice was a soothing melody, washing over his head like ripples on a beach. The soldier inside him–that was constantly on high alert–was content turning away, resting while you were there to watch his back. Sighing deeply, he felt a smile creep across his face as you kneaded dough in front of him, narrating the process and answering his questions as they came.

But, of course, the divine bubble you’d created for him was destined to pop.

“Hey, lovebirds. We've got a line.” Striding right past you to the walk-in, your other coworker–Stacy–looked a bit exasperated with Frank’s presence, prompting him to blush sheepishly.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to distract ya, sunshine. I’ll head out.” Standing inelegantly, and nearly bowling his stool over in the process, Frank avoided your gaze as he started to exit.

“Oh no you don’t,” You scoffed, snatching him around the waist and burying your head against his chest. “You almost forgot your goodbye hug.”

Cradling your waist in his rough hands, he returned the embrace. “We couldn’t have that, could we?”

“Absolutely not.” You giggled, releasing him from your hold. “Have a wonderful day, Frankie. We still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure, if you ain’t found better company.” He smirked at your resulting eye roll.

“There’s no such thing, sweetheart. I’ll see you then. Take care of yourself please.”

“You too, sunshine.” He gave a limp wave, ducking his head as he braved the rush of customers out front.

Curling his fingers tighter into their respective fists, Frank inhaled deeply as his fellow New Yorkers sped by him. The mass of bodies writhed along the city streets, blurring together as each person invaded his space, leaving as quickly as they came.

Frank pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep from retching. The amount of time spent in close proximity to strangers, even in the short walk to the restaurant, was enough to make him physically nauseous. His skin itched, the sensation flaring as each individual nearly barreled into him.

The pinpricks of other people’s gazes dotted along his cheeks and neck, and he refrained from looking over his shoulder again to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Nostrils flaring he rounded the corner and marched down the sidewalk. His eyes were glued to the red awning attached to his destination. Just a hundred more yards. Eighty. Fifty.

As he closed in on the building, his breathing was rapid, his muscles tense with adrenaline. He gave a stiff nod to the man holding the door and slid past him, into the overly air-conditioned restaurant.

You’d warned him the place was uppity. A friend of a friend was the head chef, or something, and you wanted to support them during their grand opening.

He wasn’t in the mood to be well-mannered, or consciously think about what utensil he needed to use at any given moment. And he sure as shit wasn’t in the mood to be surrounded by drunk, wealthy people complaining about the quality of their meals that cost more than a month of rent in Queens. But you’d invited him. So he came.

He wasn’t dressed well enough. That much was made obvious by the look he got from the hostess as he stepped through the door. His dark jacket and worn jeans stood out like neon orange on a hunting trip. As he began stammering out his intentions to the uptight brunette, he heard your voice.

“Hey Frankie!” Smiling as always, you were quite dolled up. You were wearing an ankle-length dress that he’d never seen before, and it accentuated your figure in a way he was incapable of processing in his given state. Your lips were coated in a shade of gloss darker than you normally wore, your hair styled and jewelry immaculately placed. He let his eyes roam fully over you before catching himself.

“Shit. Sorry, honey. Hi.” He greeted, lamely. “You, uh, you look…good. Real good, sunshine.”

Giggling, you looked at the ground bashfully. “Thank you, sweetheart. I wasn’t quite sure what to wear, to be honest.”

“Me either.” He huffed, looking down at his clothes with a frown.

“Well, I think you look very handsome, Frank.” You chuckled, beaming at him.

“I’m under-dressed, I—“

“Hey,” You rested a hand on his shoulder, halting his words. “I think you’re perfectly dressed, ok? Don’t worry.”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you studied his face. He could feel you reading him, flipping through his metaphorical pages as you searched for the answer to your question.

“Frankie, are you sure you want to have dinner here? I know you had a long day, and—“

Frank scratched the back of his neck. Long was an understatement. The universe, ever determined to undermine the progress he made, had apparently decided he'd had enough peace for the month. Sleep, which had finally been coming easier for once in his sorry life, was once again escaping him. Night after night he jolted awake as the sounds of his wife's screams echoed in his ears.

Usually, his nightmares included his children too. Their disfigured bodies riddled with gore, haunting him well into his waking hours. Recently, his dreams consisted of Maria and Maria alone. Her manicured nails clawing at his chest as she choked on her own blood. Screaming for him, and sometimes at him. Because he didn't save her. He could never save her.

The disturbing imagery had compelled him to stay out of the house more often than usual, taking out his building rage on the cement and drywall of his team's current construction site. He was averaging a 12 hour work day in the hope that wearing himself out physically would force his mind to tumble into a dreamless sleep. It had yet to do anything more than accost his aging body with pain, add to the tab he was racking up at the dog boarding place currently watching Max, and make him almost late for his dinner with you.

Brushing off your concern with a shrug, he shifted his weight from foot to foot. ”'M alright, sunshine. Too hungry to turn back now.“

You smiled at his joke, leaving the space between you open for him to follow as you turned to move.

Petrified by the various stimuli his brain was trying to process, he didn’t tread after you. Giving him a once over as you stepped back, you gently pried one of his hands from his pockets, tugging him out of the doorway and towards a table in the back corner.

It was away from the windows and within sight of two exits, settling his uneasy nerves a bit. The restaurant was filling up as the minutes ticked by, but the tables were spaced far enough apart that Frank could continue to breathe. As he focused on your hand in his, and the way your eyes shone in the flickering candlelight, he could feel his stiff muscles slackening. Your soft thumb drew a line across his knuckles as you slid into the chair across from him.

“Say the word and we’ll bail.” Your expression was adorably serious, bottom lip protruding with concern.

“I ain’t bailin’, honey.” Frank forced a chuckle, biting back a sigh as you took his other hand across the table. “Did ya have a good day?”

Face brightening, you nodded as your smile wormed its way back onto your face. Launching into a story about a squirrel you’d saved from a busy street that morning, Frank found himself being lulled into a state of half-consciousness. Internally, his soldier instincts and logic battled fiercely, apparently too viciously for his brain to handle. After moving a mile a minute for hours, his mind had short-circuited when presented with safety.

He wanted to lean into the comfort you always provided.

To indulge in the stillness and feel content.

To stop. Fucking. Fighting.

To find a new home.

“Frankie, you ok?” Your soft question brought him back to reality.

Eyes flicking to meet yours, he tried to speak, the words catching in his tight throat. Coughing around the emotion clogging his esophagus, he nodded. “Fine. Why?”

Tilting your head, you raised one eyebrow at him. “You just seem...” You waved a hand around his face as if that would clear everything up.

“Sorry, sunshine.”

“Don't be. Did you want me to be quiet, or..?”

Shaking his head frantically, he squeezed his hand around your fingers. “No. Keep goin', honey. I like listenin' to ya.”

Biting your bottom lip, you looked at the table with a pleased hum. “Ok, well, you know our neighbor in 213B? Ms. Kaminzki?”

Nodding, he could feel his focus drifting once again, though you seemed more comfortable with the idea the second time around. You were too perceptive. It scared him sometimes, if he was being honest. He hadn't had a connection this deep since...

Before he could finish that thought, a waiter approached to ask for your order. Grateful to let you take the reins as he regained control over his frazzled mind, he watched with an amused fondness as you bonded with the newcomer over a love of root vegetables.

Following your server’s arrival, dinner passed without incident–though you and Frank agreed that the prices were far too high for this to become a regular spot. Despite the fact that it was far from the best meal he’d ever eaten, he was happy to spend time with you.

Which is why he let you clasp your delicate fingers around his broad hand as you walked back to your apartment building. You were uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you strolled down the sidewalk. Given his actions over the last couple of hours, he wasn't in any position to scold you for being distant, but the behavior worried him slightly.

Letting his eyes drift sideways to study your face, the corner of his lips twitched upwards at your focused expression. Your face was contorted into a small scowl, pinched in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. A small, but distinctly annoyed, huff parted your lips as he watched. Clearly something was on your mind.

Bumping his hip against yours, he stifled a smile. “Ya plottin' my murder over there or somethin'?”

Nearly tripping as your concentration broke, you looked up at him sheepishly as he pulled you into his side to steady you. “Sorry, Frankie.”

“It's a'right, sunshine. Why's the cat got your tongue?”

Sighing, you stared at the cracked pavement beneath your feet, placing each step carefully so you wouldn't stumble again. “It's nothing, Frankie.”

“Fuck, you're startin' to sound like me, honey. That ain't good.” Frank frowned as you chuckled sadly. Your usual bright giggles sounded pensive and hollow.

“Just thinking.” You shrugged.

Internally groaning, he tried again. “Work with me here, darlin'. Thinkin' about what?”

Your lips quirked with a smile, lashes fluttering as you looked up at him. “Family stuff. I don't...I don't wanna bug you with it.”

“Would ya tell me if I swore I wanted to hear it?”

A glimmer of sass shone through with your smirk. “Maybe.”

Throwing a hand up to show the distance you still had to walk, he looked at you with a raised brow. “We got time. Hit me with it.”

“Fine. But know that it's stupid.” You pointed a finger at him with a stern look, inspiring a smile of his own.

Exhaling, you chewed on your lower lip between words. “Um, so I haven't told you much about my family. But they're, er...complicated. To say the least.”

Frank listened intently, squeezing your hand encouragingly when you hesitated.

“My mom and I still keep in contact but she's...difficult. She makes me kind of miserable, to be honest. But she's all I have left, so I put up with it. Unfortunately, that means she visits from time to time and I always sort of…” You trailed off, eyes becoming misty as your words failed.

“Sorta what, sunshine?” Frank prompted softly.

“Shut down, I guess?” You looked up at him, lips pursed. “Not to burden you with the details she just...she makes it really hard to not fall back into bad habits. And she's planning on coming up in a few weeks, so I was just lost in thought about it.” You gave a halfhearted chuckle.

“When's she comin'?”

“Three weeks from tomorrow.“ You whined, shaking your head. “It'll be fine, I just need to prepare for it, you know?”

“Would it help if you had company?”

Frank's question caught you off guard. “What?”

“I was wonderin' if it would help, if I was there I mean.”

Shaking your head furiously, you frowned. “Oh I can't ask you to do that, Frank–”

“Last I checked, you weren't askin'.” Frank snorted. “If ya don't want me there…”

“No Frank,” You turned to look at him earnestly. “That would be amazing! I just...you would do that for me?”

Nodding slowly, he brought his free hand up to cup your cheek. “In a heartbeat, sunshine.”

Giggling, you shook your head gravely. “What would I do without you?”

The rest of the walk back to your apartments was spent joking about things you could buy for Frank and slowly start placing around his house. You reached the front door to your building as he was finally talking you out of replacing all of his so-called “boring” glasses with vulgar mugs.

“Look, Frankie! This one is perfect for you!” You squealed, turning around your phone to reveal a poorly photoshopped white mug with the words “Moody Bitch” written on it.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, strutting into the building ahead of you, not hiding his smile as you cackled gleefully.

You scrambled up the stairs after him. “Wait! I found a better one!”

“Nope. I'm done lookin' at your shitty mugs.” Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he unlatched the door, giving Max a scratch as the dog poked his head out in greeting.

“Hi, Maxie!” You cooed, your voice igniting Max's overactive tail. Crouching in front of him, you happily let him kiss your face as Frank slipped his shoes off.

“Ok bud, let her up.” Frank scolded gently as the massive canine began to tip you over in his eagerness to kiss every inch of you.

Standing with too much difficulty, you giggled as you finally managed to drag yourself upright. “Yikes. Pretend you didn't see that.”

“See what?” Frank asked, smirking.

“Thanks for a good night, Frankie. Oh, wait before we part ways for the evening...” You trailed off, shoving open your own door and dashing inside.

Still standing in his own doorway, Frank chuckled to himself as he heard you banging around in your kitchen. “Ya know, I was hoping to go to bed at some point.” He called down the hallway.

“One more second!” You called back.

Pretending to have fallen asleep against the doorframe, Frank's eyes were closed when your footsteps tread back down the hall.

“Ha ha. Very funny.” You deadpanned. “If you don't want this dessert, I can absolutely eat it myself.”

“Dessert?” Frank opened his eyes enthusiastically, accepting the plate you handed him.

The slice of whatever you'd handed him was thick and smelled of cinnamon. Its bread-like texture and swirl of filling looked painfully familiar...

“You promised to try the babka I made! So, here you go.”

Dread pooled in his stomach as his shaky hand grasped the fork you handed him. The enticing smell of the cake suddenly turned to something sinister, drawing acid up in this throat.

“I, uh...I what?” He stammered out, staring at the plate like the pastry had pulled a gun on him.

”The babka I made for Ms. Kaminzki? I mentioned it at dinner and you said you would try it for me?“ Your eyes were shining with anticipation, your tone edged with an anxiety that caused his own heart rate to spike.

His mouth remained shut, drying out as if he'd eaten a bowlful of sand. Spearing the slice of cake, he nodded as he took a small bite.

The blend of spices was something he'd tasted many times before, and he felt like someone had smashed a bottle over his head. Adrenaline surged through every vein, his hands trembling viciously. Bile was clawing up his esophagus, chills suddenly wracking his body.

“It’s great, sweetheart.” He muttered, still staring at the bread.

“Yah?” You asked eagerly, dress swirling around your ankles as you bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Mmmhmm, I love it.” Prying his eyes away from the ceramic plate he held, he glanced at you. Your face seemed to flicker, briefly—another familiar face forming a mask over your wide eyes and small smile. As his nausea suddenly became unbearable, he opened his door. ”I gotta go.“

“Oh, ok! Have a good night, Frank!” You called. He gave a limp wave.

Stepping backwards into his apartment, he locked the door behind him, chucked the pastry across his counter, and bolted to the bathroom.

Using your thumb to steady the piece of tape, you pressed it against the serrated edge of the dispenser to tear off a piece. Carefully draping the adhesive side onto the brown paper, you folded the final edge of the parchment over the babka. You couldn’t help but smile at the beautifully wrapped loaf.

All things considered, you’d been having a great week. The bakery had seen steady traffic, one of your favorite market booths had given all their regulars a huge discount on seasonal fruit, and your adorable elderly neighbor had been so thrilled about the babka you made her that she’d paid you to make one for her knitting club. Speaking of… A quick glance at the clock was enough to hurry you out the door to prevent being late.

Cradling the weighted parcel to your chest, you rushed out the door and down the steps—thanking your lucky stars that you didn’t break an ankle in your haste to make the delivery.

Ms. Kaminzki was an adorable older woman who lived on the floor below yours. You had offered to help bring her groceries in after she’d gotten hip surgery a few months ago, and the woman had been downright motherly to you ever since. She was constantly bringing you home cooked meals and complimenting your outfits, it was about time you made her something in return.

Of course, she’d tried to pay you for the first one and refused to accept a second for free—but there was only so much you could do to combat her sweet stubbornness. Which meant that this time, unfortunately, you needed to let her press a crumpled 20 dollar bill into your hand as you passed her the babka.

Accepting her cheek kisses and endless praise for your “baking talents” more readily than the cash, you ushered her into a taxi so she'd make it to her meeting on time. With the promise to visit her for dinner this week, you waved her off—nearly smacking someone behind you in the process.

“Oh fuck, I'm so—” Tilting your head as you took in the hooded figure in front of you, your brows shot up. “Frank?”

The man looked rough, to put it simply. Deep purple bruises sat under his puffy eyes, his posture hunched and face swollen around a split lip. He was avoiding your gaze, and he visibly flinched as you stepped into his space.

Straightening your fingers, you displayed your palms in a gesture of harmlessness. Though he was still curled in on himself, he met your gaze as you rested a hand on his bicep. “Sweetheart, what happened? Are you alright?”

Frank nodded curtly, recoiling from your light touch as he yanked open the door to your building. “Fine, sunshine.”

Huffing as he slipped into his old habits, you trailed after him.

“Thought we were past the whole 'pretending to be fine' shtick but, ok.” You muttered, nearly tripping over your skirt as you chased him up the stairs.

“I ain't 'pretendin' to be fine'. I am fine.” Frank snapped, not even sparing a glance at you.

“Sure,” You nodded, unbothered by his bad attitude. “Seems like it.”

Scoffing, Frank whirled around on the landing. His glower softened as he registered your furrowed brow. Deflating like a helium balloon, he flushed pink. “Sorry, sunshine. I'm just...havin' a shit day.”

“You sure it hasn't been a shit week?” You asked with narrowed eyes, hand coming up to cup his stubbled cheek. “This cut doesn't look fresh.”

Frank usually leaned into your touch as if it was the only thing keeping him together. While others made you feel self-conscious about your love of physical contact, your grumpy neighbor seemed to be as starved for it as you were.

Today, however, he remained rigid in your hold. His eyes were hollow shells, not holding the range of emotions you'd come to expect from his beautiful irises. Wherever his mind was, you were confident that it was not here with you.

Withdrawing your hand, you nodded your head toward the final flight of stairs. “C'mon, sweetheart. Up we go.”

His stare remained blank, but he followed your direction, marching up the stairs as if he was ready to drop—which, you realized, he probably was.

As he fumbled with his keys, you ambled towards your own apartment, trying not to look like you were prepared to catch him if he collapsed. As he tumbled over the threshold into his apartment, you caught a glimpse of the trash accumulating on his coffee table and counters. If you weren't worried before...

Eyes narrowing as he noticed you staring into his apartment, he gave a small wave. “Have a good night, sunshine.”

Though his words were sweet as always, his tone was flat and you weren't quite sure whether he meant what he said.

“You too, Frankie.” Before he could slip inside his apartment, you pressed a quick peck to his cheek. As your lips made contact with his scruff, one of his rough hands wrapped around the curve of your waist, squeezing gently. Smiling as you retreated, you let his hand linger on you for as long as he needed.

“I'm right next door if you need me, ok?” You promised gravely.

Finally dropping his hand, he nodded, a spark of the warmth you usually found in his expression finally igniting behind his eyes. Shoving lightly at him with an exaggerated frown, you pointed a finger at his chest.

“Go get some rest, Castle. You need it.”

He chuckled softly, finally disappearing behind the chipped white door.

Pondering for a moment, you could practically feel the cartoon light bulb pop out of your skull as the epiphany struck you. Flexing your hands in anticipation, you rushed into your apartment and beelined for your freshly washed mixing bowls.

Thanks for reading!! Please comment/reblog!

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

My little love

Chapter 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: dead children are mentioned, brief talks of funeral/burial, angsty, hurt/comfort I guess?, sad Bucky, crying Bucky, fluff(because duh our sweet innocent Angel is here)

A/N: we meet reader’s dad and I decided to give him a name because it’s easier to write with a name. Please let know what you think!

Series masterlist

Ch 8

You woke up gasping for air. When you looked over at the alarm clock on your nightstand you realized you had only slept about three hours. Lottie was snuggled up to your side while Bucky had his arm draped over both of you. You wanted to go back to sleep but anytime you close your eyes all you see is the three small cryogenic chambers. With a sigh you slowly get out of bed and quietly grab a cardigan and shoes before heading out. In the living room you put on your shoes and cardigan before heading down to Bruce’s lab.

“I thought you’d be sleeping.” Tony said from a corner. He was typing and tinkering away.

“So did I. Are they here?”

Tony just points to the area that has the curtains up, hiding what’s behind them from view.

“Are you sure you want to do that? Especially without Barnes here.”

“Yeah, I just need a minute alone. He doesn’t know yet, I’m not sure how I’m going to tell him.” You sigh as you walk toward the curtain.

“I’m taking care of everything for their burial.”

“Thank you Tony.” You give him a sad smile before disappearing behind the curtain.

The three boys had been laid on separate gurneys and covered with sheets. Tears immediately spring in your eyes as you take in their small forms. So vulnerable and innocent. You could only think that they had never had a loving and caring touch before they were executed. A sob climbs up your throat and you fail to stifle it. You feel arms wrap themselves around your waist stopping you from falling to the floor.

“Hey it’s ok. Shhh, it’s ok.” Steve pulled you out of the makeshift room and sat you down on a stool. He sat next to you, pulling you into his chest as you cried. “Take a deep breath for me. One more. There you go.”

You pulled away from him and took the tissue he had offered you.

“Tony told me everything. I’m sorry you were the one to find them.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what they must have suffered. All for it to just end like that.” You said between sniffles. “How am I going to tell him?”

“We’ll figure it out and we’ll do it together.”

When Bucky woke up you were gone, but so was Charlotte. He trusted that you had Lottie with you yet the apartment was eerily quiet. There was no music, no coffee being made and no voices. Bucky got up and got dressed, he knew how difficult that mission had been and he just wanted to be there for you.

“Sergeant Barnes, you are needed in conference room B.” Friday announced as soon as Bucky stepped out of your apartment.

“Friday, where is Y/N?”

“Agent Y/L/N is in conference room B.”

Bucky was confused but headed in that direction anyways. When he got to the conference room he found Tony, Bruce, Steve and you. You had your arms folded over the table and your head resting on them. He could see how tired you looked and wondered how much sleep you had gotten. You perked up when you saw him walk in but he could see that you had been crying.

“Hey, where’s Lottie?”

“With Clint. He got her a toy bow and arrow and he’s determined to teach her how to use it.” You smiled softly as Bucky sat beside you and took your hand in his.

The tension was thick in the conference room. There was something unspoken and Bucky felt unsure of what was going to happen next. Did this have to do with the mission or something worse?

“So what’s going on?” He asked after no one had spoken up.

“This is a debrief for yesterday’s mission.” Tony answered as he stood up and made his way to the front of the table.

“Ok? I didn’t go on the mission so why am I here?”

“We already debriefed on part of it but this part involves you.”

Bucky sat up straighter and his eyes darted from you to Steve and then Tony. Every once in a while when a hydra base was raided the team would find information on the winter soldier. Things he didn’t remember had happened to him.

“Bucky,” you said softly as you squeezed his hand. He could feel his heart trying to escape his chest, he knew whatever was going to be said was bad. Was that why you’d been crying? Was it his fault? “You remember what I told you last night, about this place being where Lottie was born?”

He nodded in response.

“It isn’t the only information we found.” He watched as you took a deep breath. You fought back tears before continuing. “Lottie wasn’t the only baby born there.”

“Ok?”

“We found four cryogenic chambers in a hidden room. One was empty and it was used for Charlotte.” Tony supplied. “The others held three boys.”

“Are they mine? The three boys, are they my children?”

“Yes, but Bucky we got there too late.” Tears had started flowing freely. Even Steve, Tony and Bruce were teary eyed. “The doctor that I told you about, he shot them before we could find them. He said he didn’t want us to get our hands on any more of his assets.”

Bucky sat there stunned and unable to hear what you were saying. It was like he was underwater and every sound was distorted. He looked between all of you in the room. No one except you would look him in the eyes. He didn’t want to believe what he heard. It wasn’t enough that hydra had taken a part of him by erasing his memories and stealing his life from him. They also used him to create the next generation of winter soldiers. Bucky thought of his doll, his little girl and how much she had changed him in the month she had been in his life. What if they had placed her back in that chamber? What if they had taken her life as well? His metal fist connected with the wooden table, completely breaking it in half.

“Where are they? Did you leave them there?” He stood and started pacing, only stopping what you stood in front of him. He was trying not to cry, he didn’t want to keep breaking down because of what hydra had done to him.

“We brought them back. Tony is helping with the funeral arrangements. We don’t have to worry about anything.”

‘We’ is the word he focused on. Just like Lottie was your sweet Angel, your little girl, Bucky knew you saw these three boys as yours. He realized at that moment that the reason that you had been so upset wasn’t just because they had been taken from this world before they were able to live in it, it’s because you felt guilty that you couldn’t save them. Lottie’s brothers and his babies were just as much yours because your ability to love others was endless. Bucky pulled you into his chest and just held you.

“Can I see them?” He whispered and you nodded your head against his chest. You pulled back and took his hand, leading him out of the conference room and down toward Bruce’s lab. The lab windows which were usually see through were now frosted.

“I’ll give you a minute.”

You stood by the door and let Bucky walk in alone, it was too hard for you to see them again. Steve walked in after Bucky knowing his friend would need someone with him.

You could hear him crying and it only made you feel more guilty. If you had only found that door faster maybe you could have saved them. It didn’t take long for you to slip in quietly, Bucky sat in front of his three boys as he cried for them. You placed a hand on his shoulder and the moment he realized it was you, Bucky pulled you to stand in between his legs. He buried his face in your chest and all you could do was rake your fingers through his hair. His large frame shook almost violently.

“I know, just let it all out.” You whispered. It took a while but Bucky finally calmed down.

“I’d really like to see Lottie now.” He said in a soft tone.

“POW.” You hear her voice the closer you get. “POW.” A little toy arrow flies by the entrance.

When you stop to watch what’s happening the whole living room is a mess. The cushions and decorative pillows are all over the place. A vase is on its side on a table, it’s content on the floor. Nat and Clint hid behind sofas and armchairs while Sam held Lottie. She was on his shoulders while he stomped around and made roaring noises. The little toy bow and arrow in her hands as she took a shot trying to get anyone she could.

“POW!” You watched her take another shot and miss. “Dada. Mama.” She said gleefully when she spotted you by the entryway.

Sam put her down and she ran with open arms towards Bucky who wasted no time in picking her up. You could see his grip on her tightening just a bit but she didn’t fight against his hold on her. Instead Lottie just presented her new toy to him.

“Dada pay?” She asked blissfully unaware of the emotional pain her father was going through. Clint, Sam and Nat all left the room silently as Bucky sat down with Lottie.

“In a minute, Doll. I love you so much baby.” He kissed her forehead as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

“So much?” She parroted, unsure of what the words actually meant.

You smiled as you heard Lottie copy her father.

“Yeah so much, Doll.” He pulled her into his chest and she rested her head against him.

Her eyes lock on to you as you rest your head against Bucky’s shoulder. After a few minutes Lottie wiggles her way off of Bucky’s lap and starts playing around with her new toy. For the next few days all you and Bucky could do is stay close to Lottie.

“Is everything alright, kitten?” Your dad’s sleep riddled voice comes through the phone’s speaker. The door creaks behind him as he walks out of his bedroom.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Kitten it’s almost three a.m. you haven’t called me to have late night talks since you joined the avengers. So what’s wrong? You know I won’t judge or criticize anything.”

You take a deep breath and explain everything. Your new relationship with Bucky, vague details of what hydra did to him and you tell him about Lottie. How wonderful she was and how she has abilities just like you. You explain to him how Lottie was brought into this world and how much you love her and how she calls you mama.

“So my baby has a baby?”

“I do and I love her so much. Guess that makes you a grandpa.” You smiled for the first time in a few days.

“Is that what was bothering you? Did you think I’d not accept your relationship?”

“No.” You say and begin to explain everything that happened a few days ago and the three boys you’d found. “I just don’t know how to help him. And the funeral is in a few hours but I feel like he’s barely had time to process what happened. I don’t know what to do dad.”

“All you can do is be there for him. Let him talk when he’s ready, let him cry if he needs to. I know it’s not easy but it sounds like you’re doing everything you can. Sometimes you can’t do anything other than let him know you’re there with him.”

“I know I just hate-“

“Feeling helpless. I know kitten, it’s why you’re such a fighter. And that's why you’re my favorite.” He whispers the last part.

You huff out a laugh. “You’re my favorite too. Thank you for picking up.”

“I’ll always answer, kitten. Now try and get some rest. I love you kid.”

“I love you too.” You say before hanging up the call and walking back into your apartment.

Bucky is sitting in the living room, only looking up when he hears the door close. He looks exhausted. The last time you’d seen him like this was when he had first arrived at the compound. Unable to adjust to a more relaxed way of living, especially compared to hydra. The nightmares didn’t help either. You walk over to him and sit on his lap. Bucky hides his face in your neck, his facial hair prickling your skin. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer to him. You begin to play with his hair as you sit in silence.

“I’m sorry.” He says after a few minutes.

“Why?”

“For everything, I seem to only bring bad things to anyone that’s around me. I’d understand if you didn’t want to be with me anymore.” He says as he finally looks at you.

“James,” you breathe deeply and think about your next words. Your hands cup his cheeks so he can’t look away from you. “Maybe I haven’t made myself clear so here it is… I am in love with you. You are grieving the loss of three children and processing what hydra did to you. I’m not sure what it is you need from me right now but you never have to worry about me wanting to leave you. I’m going to stay by your side for however long you’ll have me.”

For the first time in days you see something other than overwhelming sadness, there was hope and awe.

“You love me?”

“So much, babe.”

“I’m in love with you too.” He gives you a tired smile.

“We have a long day ahead, do you want to try and get some sleep?”

“Are you staying in bed this time?” He asks as he gets up with you still in his arms.

“Yup.”

“Then let’s get some sleep.”

The day had been beautiful. The skies were clear, the sun was shining and the temperature had been amazing. It was a perfect day, but the emotions were overwhelming as you laid to rest three little souls that you’d never get to meet.

The whole team had rallied around Bucky. By the time you got to the compound everyone was exhausted. All you wanted to do was go to your apartment and rest. Maybe get some cuddles in with Lottie. Steve and Bucky decided to stay outside for a while, wanting some time to clear their heads. They’d walked around the compound grounds until they found a quiet area to stop at.

“How are you holding up?” Steve asked as he sat down to Bucky.

“I don’t know. I just keep thinking about how I found Charlotte that day. What if they were getting ready to put her back in that chamber. I would have never met her. I just keep thinking to myself at least she wasn’t there. It makes me a horrible person, how can I be happy that only one of those kids survived? They all deserved a chance to live. To be well taken care of and loved.”

“It doesn’t make you a horrible person, Buck. You’re focusing on the one child hydra hasn’t taken from you while dealing with the loss of three more. It’s not bad to be happy your daughter is alive.”

“For now.” Bucky mutters as he wipes away tears again for what felt like the thousandths time in the day. “What if hydra finds a way to get to her and I can’t protect her? What if they get their hands on her again?”

“They won’t. No one in this team will let that happen, especially Y/N. I mean look at what she did to the guy who threatened Lottie and she isn’t the type of person to be violent.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed. “I know what you’re dealing with is difficult so take your time to grieve. Be with your girls, who love you more than you’ll ever know. And you know I’ll always be here too.”

Bucky nodded as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thanks Steve.”

Steve and Bucky were headed back into the compound when they heard their names being called.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes.” An agent waved them over. “There’s a gentleman here asking for agent Y/L/N. I tried to call up to her apartment but she didn’t answer.”

“Where is he?”

“At the visitor’s entrance sir.”

“Thank you, we’ll take care of him.” Steve said before he and Bucky headed in that direction.

There was only one person there. An older man most likely in his mid to late fifties. He had a graying beard and short cropped hair. His posture let them know he had likely been in the military. The older man was dressed in a black button up shirt and black slacks, and was holding a bag which they found a bit odd. Still they weren’t sure who he was.

“Sir? You’re looking for agent Y/L/N?” Steve asked as he got closer. The man turned and smiled at them.

“Yes, I am. I was told to wait here. You’re Captain Rogers, which means you must be Sergeant Barnes” both Steve and Bucky took turns in shaking his outstretched hand.

“That’s correct sir but how do you know agent Y/L/N?”

“Dad?” The guards at the gate had finally gotten a hold of you and told you someone was there to see you. To say you’re surprised is an understatement.

“There’s my girl.”

You threw yourself in your father’s arms once you were close enough. He held you tight and kissed the top of your head. Steve and Bucky stood there just watching the interaction with soft smiles on their lips.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you pulled away from him.

“Well I was worried about you after that call, kitten. So I thought I’d come up and see how you were doing with my own eyes.”

“Dad, you didn’t have to do that. But I’m glad you’re here.” You smiled before looking over your shoulder. “I see you’ve met Steve and Bucky. Guys this is my father, Edward Y/L/N.”

“Eddie or Ed is just fine.”

“Mama.” Lottie called out for you as she walked down the hallway.

“And that would be Charlotte.”

Lottie called out for you again once she was at the door. She smiled as she ran in your direction. Her arms wrapped around one of your legs as she looked up at you, a giggle bubbling up from her chest. A few seconds later Sam pops out of the same door looking relieved.

“You’re never looking after her again, Sam.” Bucky said as he crossed his arms.

“She’s faster than she looks and it’s not my fault she wants her mother.”

“It’s ok Sam, thank you.” You say. He smiles at you, glares at Bucky and then heads in the same direction he came.

Your father lowers himself to be at eye level with Charlotte, who's still holding on to your leg.

“Hi princess.” He waves at her.

Lottie looks at him and then at you before hiding behind you again. “It’s ok sweet Angel.”

“I got you a present.” He held out the bag he had been holding for Lottie to take but she wouldn’t move, she did however smile shyly at him. “Do you wanna see what’s inside?” Your dad asked as he reached in pulling out the yellow dress Belle wore in Beauty and the Beast.

Lottie pulled away from you and headed in your father’s direction cautiously. You turned to look at Steve and Bucky who were just taking in the scene. They smiled as Lottie touched the dress before giggling and talking gibberish. She took the dress from your dad and turned to you.

“Mama on?”

“Sweet Angel you want to put on your new dress?”

“On, mama.” She held up the dress for you to take.

“Ok, let’s go put it on. Come on dad. You can stay for a while right?”

“I have all the time in the world, kitten.”

Your father and Bucky sat in the living room of your apartment in an awkward kind of quiet. Bucky kept his eyes on his hands and your father looked around the room, taking in how well you were living.

“So, my daughter told me about what happened. I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss. I can’t imagine what you must be going through, son.” Ed spoke up.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please none of that sir thing, call me Ed. Now I want to have an honest conversation with you.”

Bucky felt his heart hammering against his chest, he didn’t have the strength to have a conversation with your father if it was going to be about how he wasn’t good enough for you. He knew that you were one of the good things in his life so if Ed was against you being together Bucky couldn’t blame him.

“My daughter cares for you and that little girl a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this happy, despite the current situation. So I’ll ask you to keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. If you ever need anything I’m here for you too and I’d very much like to be your daughter’s grandfather if it’s alright with you.”

Bucky stared at your father. Wide eyed and mouth slightly opened. It’s not what he thought your father would say. Anyone else would have probably told him to leave you alone, that you deserve better because you do. And it seemed like Ed knew what Bucky was thinking. His laugh was a deep rumble in his chest.

“It’s not what you were expecting, were you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well I’ll tell you something, Y/N seems like a carefree person but she doesn’t trust as easily as you think. But every single time she’s mentioned you it’s only been with the highest praise. So if my daughter trusts you, so do I. I only ask that you take care of her since I can’t anymore.”

“With my life, Ed. I love her more than I thought possible. As for Lottie, as long as you’re fine with it I’d love her to know you as her grandfather. She sees and loves Y/N as her mother.” Bucky said just before you walked out. A blinding smile on your face.

“You aren’t ready for this.” You inform them before walking further into the living room. “Come on Lottie, come show daddy your new dress.”

Lottie stood in the doorway. The yellow dress fit perfectly. The dress came with a crown and gloves and she had both of them on even though the gloves were a bit big on her. The crown sat on top of her dark brown hair that was starting to curl at the ends. It was tilted but it didn’t seem to bother the toddler since she was all smiles. You had your phone out taking a video of her prancing through the living room until she got to Bucky.

“You look beautiful, Doll. Do you like your dress?” He asked her as he picked her up and sat her on his lap.

“Wike it, dada.” She replied as she messed with the tulle of the dress.

“Can you say thank you, Lottie?”

Lottie looked up at Bucky as she processed the new words. “Tank you?” She said in the form of a question.

“That’s right, say thank you to grandpa for the pretty dress.”

Your head snapped up in Bucky’s direction and then your father’s only to find him looking at you already. He smiled and winked at you. It was one thing for you to see Charlotte as your daughter but to have your father accept her and Bucky meant more to you than you realized. Tears quickly gathered in your eyes even though you thought you were all cried out.

Lottie’s whole face lit up in recognition of the word grandpa. She pointed at Ed and looked at Bucky with a smile.

“Yeah Doll, that’s grandpa.”

“Gwandpa!” She practically jumped out of Bucky’s arms and ran toward her new family member. Lottie was immediately picked up and embraced lovingly.

“Hi princess.” Ed and Lottie took to each other like ducks to water.

While you watched them interact Bucky moved to sit beside you. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer.

“She recognized the word grandpa, do you think she had a vision?” You whispered.

“I’m pretty sure she had one the other day but it wasn’t as intense as the last time.”

“Hhmm,” you rest your head against his shoulder and smile as Lottie gets up and pulls her grandfather toward her room. “They’re not coming back for a while.”

“You should get some rest.”

“So should you.”

“I will, I promise. But for right now you can relax. I'll stay up in case Lottie or Ed need anything.”

You hummed but your eyes were already closed. The last few days had been so draining. Although the funeral was over you knew Bucky would still be dealing with this loss for the rest of his life. So for now you let sleep take you and you basked in the happiness of having your father meet and accept your family.

Ch. 10

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totowlff · 1 year

Text

chapter eight — as if i could ever keep a promise

➝ we don't always get what we want.

➝ word count: 3,9k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s notes: i apologize for the delay in bringing you a new chapter. these last few weeks have been a little complicated for me, as they culminated in me being fired from work. i'm not upset, as it was a job i wasn't a huge fan of, but coming full circle is always hard. i hope you enjoy this chapter and would love to hear your feedback.

Two agonizing, painfully slow weeks after Cassie’s embryo transfer, she was at her desk at work, trying to get something — anything — done, but her eyes kept sliding over to the clock in the corner of her computer, counting down the minutes until 3pm.

She was leaving work early today to go to the fertility clinic to find out the results of a blood test she’d provided a sample for earlier that morning, on her way into the office.

Cassie was nervous, but excited. The possibility that the cycle would not take had briefly occurred to her, but there were so many more reasons to believe that she was pregnant. The embryologist had confirmed that both her and Toto’s samples were of excellent quality. Both of them were in perfect health. She’d read the statistics and the failure rates, but even those numbers weren’t enough to dash her optimism.

The only thing that weighed on her at the moment was that Toto was not in the country at the moment. He was in China for a Grand Prix, and would be in Bahrain next weekend, and would not be returning to the UK between the two races. Toto had told her to call and give him the results as soon as she found out, but she didn’t really want to tell him that he’d be a father over the phone.

Instead, Cassie was going to tell him in person when he got home the next weekend. She planned to surprise him with a gift that she’d ordered online the day after her embryo transfer that had recently arrived.

It was an infant onesie with a gray-and-teal F1 car on the front, and text underneath the car that said “Future Mercedes Driver”. It certainly wasn’t produced by the team, and she knew she should probably forward it to the legal team so they could issue a cease and desist, but she bought it anyway.

“It’s perfect,” she thought, when it arrived in her post a few days later. She put it in a gift box with teal tissue paper and tied it with an elegant bow with teal ribbon.

As soon as 3pm came around, Cassie was out of the building like a shot. She barely noticed the scenery passing as she made the half-hour drive from Brackley to Oxford on the M40.

By the time she was in the waiting room of the fertility clinic, she felt like she was about to jump out of her own skin from the nerves.

When the receptionist called her name, Cassie bolted to her feet. She sat in the exam room, her leg bouncing incessantly as she waited. After a few minutes, Dr. Hodges, the clinic’s fertility specialist, came in with a laptop in hand.

— Good afternoon, Miss Aldersey. How are you today? — she said, taking a seat in the stool across from Cassie. She had a polite smile on her face. Cassie watched as she opened the laptop and logged in.

— Hello. I’m… Good, but a bit nervous.

— Understandable — the doctor said — So, let’s just take a look at the results of your bloodwork and then we’ll discuss your next steps. Does that sound okay?

— Yes — Cassie said.

Dr. Hodges took a moment to look at the chart on the computer, and turned the screen toward Cassie.

— Unfortunately, it looks like this round didn’t take. See — she said, pointing to a line on the lab results — You tested negative for any presence of beta hGC, which is a hormone that your body starts producing when a fertilized egg implants. We start seeing it on blood tests around eleven days after conception, which is why you wait two weeks from the date of your transfer. Now, there is a chance this is a false negative, and we can re-test again in a week if you’d like, but…

Cassie felt strange all of a sudden, not really paying attention after she heard the words “didn’t take”. Or maybe it was that everything sounded muffled and distant. She felt like the blood had drained completely from her body, and like a giant pit had opened in her stomach.

— S-so, I’m n-not pregnant? — Cassie stammered.

— No, unfortunately not this time — Dr. Hodges said, giving Cassie a sympathetic glance — But, it’s not unusual for the first round to fail, it happens more often than not.

— I… I just thought… I… The embryologist said the samples were both good, and that we are both healthy, and…

— I know, I’m sorry. This is my least favorite part of this job, but, don’t worry, Miss Aldersey. It will happen, and it will all be worth it once you get there.

— I… Yeah — Cassie said, trying to get her bearings again. She glanced briefly around the exam room, looking at the posters on the wall. Most of them were colorful medical diagrams, one with the stages of embryonic development, one with a cross-section of a womb with a baby inside. Seeing the posters in that moment sort of stung, because it was not what her body would look like. Not now, at least — So, um… What now? How… I guess, what do I do now?

— Well, the first step is to stop taking your progesterone — Dr. Hodges said — It will induce a menstrual cycle, and then we wait four to six weeks before performing another embryo transfer. You have quite a few fertilized eggs, so we don’t have to have you go through the full stimulation cycle.

— We can’t… We can’t try again right away? — Cassie asked. She was starting to feel stressed now, she could feel her pulse pounding against her chest.

— Well — Dr. Hodges said — No. It’s possible, medically, but all of the hormones used for the ovarian stimulation are fairly intense, and can cause some inflammation, or ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, which isn’t pleasant. The standard protocol is to let your body take a break from the hormones for at least one cycle. Plus, in my experience, it lets you take an emotional break, as well. IVF is stressful and tiring, and so much stress is going to do more harm than good.

— I… I guess that makes sense — Cassie said.

— If you want, I can schedule you an exam, just a blood test and an ultrasound, once you’ve had your next period — Dr. Hodges said, trying to sound cheerful, doubtlessly for Cassie’s benefit — That way, we can check to make sure everything looks good before we proceed with a second transfer.

— I — Cassie hesitated. She’d budgeted the costs of the treatment carefully, but Toto joining her on the venture added some extra fees she hadn’t been considering; the costs of his exams and the fees to the solicitor. She knew Toto would gladly pay for his share if she asked. Hell, he’d probably pay for the entire process without prompting, but Cassie didn’t want to ask that of him. This was something she wanted, and she didn’t want anyone else to have to foot the bill for her dreams. However, she had a feeling that the money from her grandmother’s estate that she’d set aside was gone now — I will have to think about it. I also want to… You know… Talk to, um…

— Oh, yes, of course, you’ll be wanting to discuss things with Mr. Wolff. Well — Dr. Hodges said, closing her laptop — Go ahead and schedule an appointment after your period, if you’d like, and we can proceed from there.

The doctor extended her hand to shake Cassie’s before she opened the door and left.

Cassie sat in the empty, quiet exam room for a moment. She felt like she was going through some sort of strange, accelerated grieving process, with her emotions changing every few seconds as her thoughts raced. She took a few deep breaths to try to calm herself down before she left. She feebly waved goodbye to the receptionist as she walked out.

Cassie needed to stop for a few groceries on her way home to her flat. She felt numb during the entire drive, like she was simply repeating an automated process, a route she’d gone so many times now, from the clinic, to the Sainsburys by her flat, to her flat. As she parked her car, she thought about calling Toto, but she realized, when she pulled her phone out of her purse and unlocked the screen, that it would be well past midnight in Shanghai by then. Toto would — or should, rather, be asleep. She couldn’t bring herself to bother him at this time of night.

She sighed heavily and put her phone back in her bag.

As Cassie walked around Sainsbury’s, she felt like there was a massive weight on her shoulders, and like her shoes had been replaced with paving stones. She trudged aisle to aisle, barely paying attention to the things she was putting in her trolley.

She kept catching sight of mothers and fathers with small children in their trolleys or holding their hands, which compounded her sadness. It wasn’t like anything was out of the ordinary in the shop that day, but the lack of possibility of her having children now made her see them everywhere.

The universe saw fit to rub extra salt in her wounds, though, as she was absentmindedly looking at jars of jam, trying to decide which one she wanted. She’d just picked up a jar of apricot marmalade when she felt a tug on the leg of her trousers.

She turned around to see a small girl brandishing a box of Weetos cereal at her.

— Mummy, I want this one… Oh, sorry — she said, when Cassie turned around to reveal that she was, not, in fact, the girl’s mother. A woman came scrambling up behind Cassie, grabbing one of the girl’s hands.

— Right here, sweetheart. Sorry about that — she said, nodding her head at Cassie and leading the child away toward her own trolley.

They were gone before Cassie could even say anything.

She stood, anchored to the floor, between the jams and breads, her shoulders starting to shake from the effort of trying to not cry. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths to try to calm herself down. When she felt like she could move again, she went to the beer & wine section and grabbed three bottles of the first sauvignon blanc she laid eyes on without a second thought.

Cassie managed to avoid crying on the rest of her drive home, but as soon as she was in her apartment, there was no reason to hold back any longer. She haphazardly jammed things in the refrigerator and freezer as tears streaked down her face.

She uncorked a bottle of wine and took a swig, not even bothering to pour it into a glass, which she realized would probably make her mother faint. All the less reason to care, she thought, as she sat down on her sofa. She wailed into one of her throw pillows. It was the kind of full-body wracking sobs that toddlers did, too.

Cassie knew she was quite the sight with her hair disheveled, her mascara and eyeliner making tracks down her cheeks, drinking directly from a cheap bottle of wine, but she didn’t care. It had been a while since she’d had both a good cry and anything to drink, so she felt entitled to both.

It was a cycle — she would calm down, but she would remember the way her doctor looked at her, or the word “negative” on the line for bHCG on her chart, or she would imagine telling Toto that she wasn’t pregnant, and she would start crying all over again.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep, just like a toddler would.

Cassie woke up on her sofa hours later, sweaty and disoriented. The lights in her flat were still on, she was still wearing her clothes from work that day. She even still had one shoe on. Her television was on, displaying the Netflix “Are you still there?” message, and there was an empty wine bottle and a bag of open chocolate candies spilling out on her coffee table.

She got up and turned her lights and television off. She stripped her clothes off and flung them into a haphazard pile in the corner of her bedroom, not even bothering to put on pajamas before she plugged her phone into the charger on her nightstand and went back to sleep.

Cassie hadn’t set an alarm, but a buzzing noise woke her up the next morning at around 8h30. She pawed at her table, hand searching for the device before she picked it up and squinted at the screen. Her heart sank when she saw Toto’s name. It was about 16h30 in Shanghai, so qualifying had likely just finished.

She wanted to talk to him, but she didn’t know what to say. He was doubtlessly calling to find out how Cassie’s blood tests went, to find out if they were going to be parents. He was as excited as she was, which meant he was going to be as devastated as she was, too. It would be cruel to disappoint him so much now, when he was halfway around the world, with races to focus on.

Cassie set her phone back down and let it ring until it stopped.

She would figure out how to break the news later.

Toto had left her a voicemail, which Cassie listened to when she had woken up a bit more.

— Hi Cassie — he said. His voice sounded soft and gentle, even happy — I know it’s only about 8 in the morning in Oxford, so you might not be awake yet, but I was just calling to say hello and to see how things went at the doctor yesterday. We just finished up qualifying, I don’t know if you were up and watching. Lewis got pole, and Valtteri got P3, so that’s good. Anyway, I’m going to go get dinner with Niki here shortly. Give me a call later when you’re awake, okay? Talk to you soon.

Fifteen minutes later, he tried calling again.

Cassie answered this time, but couldn’t think of what to say. Even “hello” wouldn’t come out of her mouth, for some reason.

— Hello? Cassie? Are you there? — she heard him say, before she panicked, and hung up.

She started crying again. It was all too much.

Cassie watched the race the next morning after a night of poor sleep. She’d been up for hours, thinking about all the plans she’d already made for the child she and Toto wouldn’t be having.

During the race, she poured over her finances, her heart sinking when she realized that the addition of Toto’s tests and procedures, and the solicitor’s fees for their known donor agreement, had eaten the entirety of what she’d budgeted from her share of her grandmother’s estate, and then some. Her doctor had brought up the possibility of trying again, but there’d be no way to do that now. The process had gone hundreds of pounds over what she’d already set aside, and she couldn’t live with the thought of asking anyone else — not even Toto — to cover the costs of another round.

Not even watching Lewis claim victory in the Chinese Grand Prix, or Mercedes move ahead in the constructor’s standings over Ferrari, could lift her spirits.

By the time she went back to work on Monday, Cassie felt numb. She wasn’t sleeping well. She barely had an appetite. She’d consumed more wine than anything else over that weekend, and was dealing with a persistent hangover as a result. She continued to ignore Toto’s phone calls and messages. She still didn’t know how to tell him.

Tuesday was worse.

Stopping the progesterone brought on an intense, monstrous period, the likes of which she hadn’t had in years.

Cassie’s head was pounding. Her mood was worse than before, which she would have thought was impressive if she didn’t feel so awful. On the upside, she had an appetite again, but it was insatiable, making her feel worse with the arrival of bloating that made it impossible to put her pants on. A patch of fresh acne on her jawline was the cherry on top, but the worst was when the bleeding actually started. Before, the slim possibility of a false negative was something she was hanging onto, a small ray of light in the darkness.

But now, she had the final confirmation: she wasn’t pregnant.

She called in sick on Wednesday and stayed in bed, both from the pain of the more-intense cramping and from the feeling like she was drowning.

By that point, Toto had called at least once per day, and sent several WhatsApp messages. She’d read them, and she’d typed a few responses, but couldn’t actually gather the courage to press “send” on any of them.

She didn’t listen to every voicemail he’d left, but the one she did listen to crushed her.

— Cassie, please, I don’t know what’s wrong, or what I did, but please let me know you’re okay — he said — I’m in Sakhir now, and it’s only three hours ahead, so, please, give me a call and let me know what’s going on. I’m worried about you, I haven’t heard from you in almost a week and… I just don’t know what’s going on. I lo… I miss… Okay. Give me a call. Please. Goodbye.

By the time Friday came — a week since Cassie found out that she wasn’t pregnant, she’d at least stopped crying out of the blue. It was like she physically wasn’t able to any longer. She felt as empty and hollow as her womb was.

She still felt horrid about never responding to Toto, and kept making excuses for herself.

“This is something he needs to hear in person”, she thought. “I’ve acted so awful this week he probably doesn’t want to have a child with me any more anyway.”

Still, though, she missed him terribly. She would pay any price for him to be back in Oxford with her, because surely, he would be able to take away the deep, constant pain she’d been feeling for a week now. She felt like she’d failed herself, and her own ambitions, but she’d let Toto down as well.

Somewhere, in the more rational side of her brain, Cassie knew that it was a possibility that the first round wouldn’t work, but she thought it was because of cases where couples had to utilize IVF because of other factors that drove infertility — medical issues on the part of either party that made it so those couples had difficulty conceiving naturally — things that didn’t apply to Cassie and Toto. They were only doing it this way because they weren’t together like a traditional couple, which meant that they weren’t really in a position to try to do things the old-fashioned way.

Cassie’s failure tortured her so much that the only way she’d been able to get any sleep was to imagine that he was there with her as she laid down, imagining herself laying in his arms, like when he’d offered to hold her after her embryo transfer. If she tried hard enough, she could remember the solid warmth of his chest against her back, the fresh, clean scent of his cologne, and how gentle his hands were, in spite of how big they were. Her imagination could only offer her a pale imitation of the real thing, but it was the only way she was able to relax enough to let herself sleep.

As she watched television coverage of the race in Bahrain, her heart squeezed every time one of the television cameras panned to him. Maybe it was Cassie’s imagination, but he didn’t look all that well, either. His hair was in varying states of sticking up in odd places, which Cassie knew was from him running his hand through it whenever he got stressed. His brow seemed to be furrowed constantly, like he was worried about something.

She wanted to see him again, to talk to him, but now, she thought she didn’t deserve to.

His phone calls became less and less frequent as his trip came to an end.

Given the result of the Bahrain Grand Prix, with Sebastian Vettel winning the race and Ferrari retaking the lead of the Constructors Championship, Cassie thought Toto would have other things to worry about after he got back.

Cassie realized at some point that she needed to talk to somebody about what she was going through, even if she’d missed her chance to talk to Toto about it. Not for the first time, she wished that her and her mother had the kind of relationship that most mothers and daughters had, because this seemed like the sort of thing one would talk to their mother about.

However, she did have an eccentric, but kind, aunt. While Sybil had never wanted to have children, she would probably be sympathetic to Cassie’s plight, so she called her aunt after she got home on Monday.

— I’m sorry, ma étoile, that sounds awful. If it helps, I know your sister didn’t have an easy time when she was trying to get pregnant. Your father, of course, was a real knob about it, and it didn’t help that your brother and his wife got pregnant right away. I remember him saying, “it’s always the mare and not the stallion”, as if you can compare horses to people — Sybil said — Your father gave Helena such a hard time about it, but it happened eventually, and it will for you, too.

Cassie sighed. She hadn’t known about that, because she had already stopped talking to her parents around the time Helena got married.

Actually, it was a fight at Helena’s wedding that made Cassie realize that it was probably better for all involved if she didn’t speak to her parents any more. She had to do some mental subtraction to figure out how long ago that was — eight years now, when Cassie was twenty-seven.

— I remember that — Cassie said — That thing about mares and stallions. I never understood that, because even his reproductive veterinarian told him that wasn’t always the case.

Talking about horses, though, made something clear to Cassie, something she didn’t like about the IVF process.

She remembered that her father’s barn switched from live covering — the process of two horses physically mating to produce a foal — to IVF, sometime in the nineties, when Cassie was young. It was easier and more cost-effective, her dad said, to manage breeding so many horses that way. Plus, they could buy sperm from stallions from other farms to produce, saving the cost of having to transport stallions and mares around. But the whole process that Cassie was going through reminded her of that, and made her feel like a broodmare — and not a prized one, either.

She was hoping to be done with it, especially when she imagined her father talking to her like a mare that wasn’t successfully bred.

“Well, there must be something wrong with this one,” he’d say. “Bad blood will out, you know”.

— And what did Toto say when you told him it didn’t take? — Sybil said. It caught Cassie off-guard, though she supposed she should have been expecting that question.

— I… Uh… he doesn’t know yet — Cassie said, shyly.

— What do you mean? Surely you had to have told him. He’s supposed to be the father!

— Well, he was out of the country for a doubleheader, and I — Cassie said. She sighed — I didn’t want to tell him over the phone, and… I wasn’t sure what to say anyway. He’ll be back in the office tomorrow, I think, so I guess I will talk to him then…

She didn’t.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula 1 x oc #wlffog #collab #etlwlff

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neet0 · 2 years

Text

Monsters, Great and Small

Summary: After a long mission away from home, Alucard returns to find his daughter won't go to bed.

Lily sat on her stool at an odd angle, a pair of tweezers pinched between her thumb and forefinger. Before her, a water-stained tome of alchemical recipes lay open, the dog-eared pages yellowed in the light of her workbench’s lamp. She was bent over a set of glassware, adding gossamer fragments of Baltic Sea nymph wings to a vial of clear liquid mixed with a bit of Breaker’s Blue powder — the start of a basic healing salve.

A simple vignette. It’d been a while since Alucard had seen her like this. Head bowed, brow knit, her rosy lips pursed thoughtfully as she leafed through her book, searching for the perfect recipe.

She didn’t know he was here yet. A mission he’d said would only take eight weeks stretched into twelve, and he hadn’t been able to send word on when he’d return with any certainty. He’d snuck in the side door, quiet as the grave, to watch her unawares, admire her artless beauty unpolished and unposed. He could content himself with watching forever, but it would be sweeter still to have her in his arms.

“Who’s hurt this time?” he asked, stepping out of the shadows at last.

The sound of his voice surprised her, but as soon as she recognized it, her face lit up with joy. “You’re home,” she said, setting down her tweezers with a bright clack. She rose from her workbench to greet him, hurrying to tug her apron strings open. The fabric fell to a heap on the ground, a white canvas painted dingy brown with all manner of stains. Without a dirty garment between them, she threw her arms around him with all the unrestrained affection of a woman who knew better than to worry about him and where he was, yet stubbornly insisted on doing so all the same.

He nodded to the materials on her workbench. “What’s all this?”

“It’s nothing serious. Not for the kids, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He looked around, left and right, and found the household unusually, unbearably still. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Sasha’s with Seras. He wanted to go see the dragon tournaments, and she was kind enough to take him.”

“And Rina?” The girl should be in bed — it was nearly sunrise — but he had hoped to see them both on his return, if only for a moment.

“Yeah, funny story…” Lily rubbed her forehead at the memory of whatever headache had transpired. “I brought her a peryton.”

“A pet?” He shook his head. “She’s not old enough.”

Lily crossed her arms, nodding toward the closed door of their bedroom. “Well, it’s all for nothing, anyway. She took one look at the size of his antlers and got spooked. I tried to put her on his back, but he made a weird screeching noise and she jumped off. Gave him a nasty scratch on the way down. I figured I might try to heal him before giving him back to the breeder.”

“I’m sensing this non sequitur has something to do with where our daughter is, but I’m struggling to figure out how. I take it she’s not in bed?”

Lily huffed and began to pick at her nails, the telltale sign that whatever she’d done, she knew she’d made a mistake and didn’t want any guff about it from him. “I may or may not have made a joke about a peryton eating her alive while I was getting her ready for bed.”

“You do love to make more work for yourself.”

“Tch, shut up,” she said, but she didn’t mean it. Her weary head rested on his chest, the welcome weight of her physical presence infinitely more comforting than he imagined, and he’d imagined it often in the last few weeks. “Anyway, she’s been hiding in my wardrobe for the last hour.”

“So, get her out.”

“I tried, but she screams bloody murder and runs right back in there every time. Won’t come out for anything.”

“Even for-?”

“Yes, even for the shiniest sticker on Earth,” she sighed. “I tried. Trust me. She’s been acting out a lot lately. I figured a furry friend might help.”

“If she’s misbehaving, she needs discipline, not gifts.”

“I think what she needs is her dad.”

Alucard fell silent. Lily had said it gently enough, and she wasn’t wrong. Still, she knew he had little choice. It felt cruel to point it out, though probably no crueler than leaving a child that young behind with only a vague notion of where her father was.

“I’m not criticizing,” Lily added, noting his strained silence. She gave him a sidelong glance, lightening the mood with a coy smile. “She’ll come out for you. I know she will.”

He hesitated. After so much time away from his wife, the laborious ritual of putting an unruly child to bed was not exactly the way he’d planned to spend what remained of the evening. Then again, it wasn’t as though they’d be able to make good use of their bedroom with Rina awake and still in it. Sensing the direction of his thoughts, Lily planted a warm kiss on his jaw, her nails clawing lightly at his back.

Truly, there was no rest for the wicked.

Inside their room, it was immediately obvious where his daughter was hiding; in her haste, she’d left one of the wardrobe doors slightly ajar. A mischievous thought hatched in his mind. Careful to keep the hinges from squeaking, he nudged the door open wide and slipped inside unannounced.

Between the coats and dresses, two shining black eyes peered out from the dark. If he listened, he could hear her heart beating in her chest, her bated breaths as she froze, waiting to see who could’ve possibly found her in her most clever of hiding spots. Alucard leaned further in and spotted a quivering form in the back of the wardrobe. A few wispy black curls stuck to the sweat on her high round forehead, her hands balled around the fraying edges of an old jumper. In one smooth motion, he parted the racks of clothing wearing his widest jagged smile. “Boo.”

Ear-splitting shrieking filled the wardrobe, and she lunged at him, claws out. Fast, but not fast enough to avoid the shadow limbs closing around her wrists and ankles. He dragged her out into the open, where she hissed and spat like a feral kitten, making a valiant effort to bite him for his utter disregard of her matchless ferocity.

“Aren’t you the most fearsome vampire?” he chuckled, waiting for her flailing to stop before he set her down gently at the edge of the bed. Lily had done up the girl’s hair into two buns, which had come partway undone and sat lopsided on her head. She looked away, chewing her pinky nail in embarrassed silence.

“Come, now. Is this the welcome I get?” he said.

“Uhm, I thought you were the monster,” she said sheepishly. This was not true, and she knew well she’d misbehaved, just as well as she knew could wriggle out of the consequences if she put on a sufficiently darling act. To her luck, he wasn’t in the mood to punish, especially after what Lily had confided in him.

“I am,” he replied, knowing she would not understand what he meant. “Young lady, it’s well past your bedtime. Enough of these games.”

“It’s not a game! It’s real, I saw it. It’s in my room.” She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Mama told me it eats people who don’t take baths.”

“Ah. Well your mother does know a lot about monsters. I would listen to her if I were you.” He knelt down to meet her eye. “What does this monster look like?”

“It’s got big…big horns.” She held her splayed hands above her head, mimicking antlers. “Like a moose. But with wings! Really big wings. Like an airplane.”

“Intimidating. Tell me, Rinny. Where is a monster that size going to hide?”

“Under the bed,” she said, with all the certainty of a child who could not possibly be mistaken about what could fit under furniture. “It’s real. I’m not lying.”

“Mhm.” He shifted his stance, covering his mouth in a thoughtful manner, when really he was attempting to hide his smirk. “And what are you going to do about it?”

She pointed to the bed he shared with Lily. “I can sleep there.”

“Forever?”

She shrugged. “Mama said I could.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Now that is a lie, isn’t it?”

This time, Rina had no smart answers.

“No, that won’t do,” he sighed, rising to collect her into his arms. “I’m certain I did not raise any child of mine to run and hide in a musty closet at the first sight of trouble. Come along, we’ll deal with the matter directly.”

“Wait, no!” The girl burst into fresh tears, her tiny fist thumping against his chest. “What if he gets mad and bites you?”

A touching concern. Misplaced, but touching.

“I bite back.” He flashed her his long canines. ”You can, too.”

She mirrored him, the humble beginnings of fangs peeking out past her milk teeth. “They’re itchy.”

“Then scratch them. Like this.” He tickled her stomach, and she dissolved into a squirming bundle of giggles, abandoning her earlier theatrics.

With her fears stayed, he carried her to her bedroom. The room was cool and pitch-dark, the covers on her trundle bed kicked half-way onto the floor. A curling fan hummed quietly overhead, but otherwise the room was still and empty. One step in, he heard a squeak as his foot landed on a fluffy toy griffin. Rina started in his arms at the noise.

“You see, you see!” she said, throwing up her arms for dramatic effect.

“I see a little girl who doesn’t pick up her toys.” He kicked the stuffed animal aside and set her down. He did not deign to get on all fours and check under the bed, but instead took one leg of the bed and lifted the whole lot clean off the ground, so she could get a good look at the space beneath. A lone plastic pickup truck lay there upended, missing one of its wheels.

Somehow, Rina found this more upsetting than if she’d come face to face with the peryton himself. She stomped her foot, her voice pitched up into a frustrated whine. “He was real, I saw him! He’ll come back!”

“Doubtful. Look, he’s left his ride behind.” Alucard set the bed back down and dusted his hands. “It’s time for bed then, miss.”

“But the monsters-“

“-aren’t there.” He gestured to the empty room.

She stood there, obstinate, chewing her lower lip as she schemed some new diversion. An idea popped into her head, and she grabbed a book off her nightstand, pushing it into his hands before she hopped onto the bed and under the covers. “Story first?”

“Alright. One story.”

“Two stories.”

“Are you bargaining with me?”

“Three stories!” she cheered.

“These negotiations are brutal,” he said as he pulled the armchair in the corner to her bedside. “Two stories, then it’s bedtime.”

Two nonsensical tales about a manticore and some very stupid wood sprites later, Rina’s eyelids were drooping. Alucard shut the book and set it aside. He pulled the covers over her, turned off the light, and quietly took his leave.

Or rather, he tried.

Just as his hand closed around the doorknob, he heard a rustle behind him. He turned back around to see his daughter fully out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Why are you out of bed?” he asked, exasperated.

“Uhm, I can’t sleep. I’m hungry.”

“It’s daytime. We’ll hunt tomorrow night.”

“But-“

“Sleep,” he ordered, his patience wearing thin as his own daytime fatigue set in. He turned the doorknob and opened the door, turning his back to her once more. “I won’t ask again. Get in bed.”

A wild panic filled her eyes. She threw herself to the ground and began to wail at a different pitch than her usual tantrum, softer, more heart-wrenching, her thin shoulders shivering with each pitiful sob as she looked up at him and pleaded: “Papa, don’t go.”

Rina likely didn’t realize it, but in that moment she’d succeeded in doing what few others ever could, all without lifting a finger: she pierced right through his cold, black heart. Alucard stared at her, curled up into a ball, weeping into the carpet, and felt the acute and dreadful agony of his mistake.

Lily was right. He’d been away for far, far too long.

“Shh, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” He swept her up in his arms and onto his lap, repeating those words, rocking her as she cried and cried, the bleeding wound in his heart growing and growing until they might both dry up from their misery.

She was so small, so helpless, fitting neatly into the crook of his arm. His little girl. It struck him then that one day she would not be. One day she would be bigger, stronger, she wouldn’t need him anymore, not in the way she did now. The hours between then and now were not endless, and he could stand to spend fewer of them so far away from home.

He held her tight, burying his face in her soft, fine hair. It was all he could do to control his own emotions. Eventually, hiccups broke up her sobs, and when they died down to little more than tired whimpers against his chest, he began to hum her a song he knew from his own childhood, something his mother once sang to him, though the words had long since escaped him.

Only when her body had gone limp against him, her breathing shallow and even, did he find the will to speak again.

“You’re right, Rinny,” he whispered, so as to not disturb her. “There are monsters in this world. I’ve seen them myself. Not here, not now, but they exist. And if I ever thought, even for a second, that they would hurt you, no chains on this earth could hold me back from saving you.”

She yawned and shifted to lie on her other side, her cheeks squished against the mattress. He tucked a pillow under her head, pulled the covers over her, and stroked her tear-damp curls back to kiss her on the forehead. She murmured something in return — an ‘I love you’, perhaps — and by some secret spell, he found he was now the one struggling to part ways with her.

“I’ll come back to you, no matter what.”

#hellsing #hellsing fanfiction #fluff #dadcard #alucard #kid fic #hellsing fanfic

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angstywaifu · 4 months

Text

All Alone - Xaden Riorson x Shy Scribe Reader

Prompt:

I hope you like this! I am definitely not use to writing for a shy quiet reader, but I think this works! Requests are open if you guys want to send any more in!

The Archives we’re practically empty on the weekends. It was my favourite time to be down here on duty. No one to disrupt me as I wandered around, putting away the books from the week, or trying to find requests for cadets from the other quadrants. The best part was being able to do some reading of my own if there wasn’t much to do.

It was getting later in the day a lot of the other cadets had left for the day. There was only another hour or so left until we could close the door to the other quadrants, so I wasn’t fussed about being on my own inside while the other cadet sat out the front. A loud knock pulls me from my thoughts. I almost think I’ve imagined it, but it happens again. This time louder and more deliberate. I walk back to the centre of the Archives to see a very tall figure standing in the door. His eyes are already on mine as I peer around the corner of the bookshelf. Weird, the cadet at the door should be helping him. I make my way over to him, and as I get closer I realise it’s one of the Wing Leaders of the Riders Quadrant. The son of the rebellion leader. Xaden Riorson.

“Seems your other cadet has abandoned you.” He says as I stand in front of him.

I stick my head out the door, and the seat where another cadet should be is completely empty. Great. They must have walked off without telling me. I was going to half to report this. I look back at Xaden and feel small under his gaze. I had never had much to do with the riders myself, usually opting to be further in the archives and dealing with more difficult book requests. But every time I saw one of them, I just wanted the interaction to be done. They honestly scared me. And the way Xaden held himself, it was hard not to be intimidated by him.

“So it seems. How can I help you wind leader?” I say softly as I bow my head.

He chuckles at me, my eyes slowly moving up to meet his. Even his gaze was intimidating. I swalloed nervously.

”You don’t have to be so formal with me.” He tells me casually.

”You are of a higher rank. I must show respect.” I tell him, causing him to chuckle again.

”Always one for the rules you scribes.” He tries to joke, but I keep my expression neutral. “I have a list from one of the professors for some books and scrolls for next week if you can help me.”

He holds out a piece of parchment with a long list of books and scrolls. This would take me a while to do. Especially on my own. If the other cadet hadn’t left without telling me, I could have this done easily.

”I can have this ready for tomorrow. I’m afraid I am the only one on duty with my other cadet no longer here.” I tell him nervously, worried as to how he will react.

”How about I help you then?” He offers with a tight lipped smile.

I shake my head. “Y-you don’t know where anything is.”

”Then I shall carry everything and reach anything you can’t. Now come on, I don’t want to get locked in here.” He places his hand on my shoulder and guides me back into the archives.

I go to object but the look he gives me tells me he is not budging and I just nod my head and lead us to where we need to go. Xaden does exactly as he says. He grabs a trolley, loading it up with the books I grab and hand to him. And when I am unable to reach something, instead of grabbing the ladders or stools we would usually use, he reaches over me to grab it. Every time he stands right next to me or behind me, my breath catching in my throat as my heart skips a beat. I swear he chuckles a few times, almost as if he can hear it. With his help, it takes no time to grab the books and scrolls he needs for one of his professors. Even quicker than if I had another scribe with me. None of the scribe have the height of Xaden. He had the body and build of a fighter. He takes the trolley from me once we grab the last book on his list as he leads us back to the doors that will take him back to the riders quadrant. When we get to the door I quickly do another check to make sure we grabbed everything on it. I was half expecting Xaden to protest, but he doesn’t. He leans against the archway, arms crossed on his chest as he watches my every move. Happy I have picked everything I turn back to him and hand him the list with a bow of my head.

”Everything should be there.” I tell him quietly.

As he takes the list from my hand his fingers brush mine, I pull them back quickly causing him to laugh at me.

”You seem nervous. Do I make you nervous?” He says quietly as he takes a step towards me. Backing me up till my back hits the trolley.

”N-no.” I stutter out.

”You sure?” He whispers as he leans down.

I gulp as I stare up into his onyx eyes. Were so close I can see golden flecks in them. They’re gorgeous. The clock tower rings out across the college, signalling the hour. The doors to the archives groan as they start to slowly close. And I swear Xaden looks annoyed at the interuption.

”I should probably let you get inside.” He whispers leaning closer. “Can’t have you getting stuck out here with the big scary dragon rider.”

His arm skims my waist as he grabs the handle of the trolley behind me. And as if he is completely unfazed by the interaction, he pushes it away and heads back down the corridor, leaving my frozen in my spot.

“I’ll see you you next week.” He calls over his shoulder before rounding the corner. “Don’t get locked out.”

His words snap me out of my trance, barely making it back into the archives before the doors shut behind me.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #xaden riorson #the fourth wing #xaden riorson x reader #xaden x reader

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aetheternity · 3 years

Text

Can I have your number?

Synopsis: Armin’s always being asked by shy pretty girls for Eren’s number at parties to the point where when you ask for his number he doesn’t know how to respond. (Italicized words are Armin’s thoughts.)

“Why me?” Armin shrugs his cotton blue hoodie off his shoulders. Fingers grazing over the zipper in earnest contemplation. “Why don’t they ever just go right to him?”

“I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, Armin.” Connie begins, finger tracing over the rim of his partially empty glass. “Well actually I’m not. You’re the approachable friend because Eren is so tall and sexy; and you’re puppy cute.”

“Puppy cute.” Armin spits, eyes uncharacteristically narrowing.

Sasha plucks the glass from Connie’s hand, “That’s enough outta you.” She huffs pulling the drink far from Connie’s reach. “Sorry Armin, it’s just cause he’s drunk.”

“But he isn’t wrong.” He replies, Sasha sighs transitioning Connie’s glass to her free hand. She tilts her head apologetically. “He isn’t wrong.” Armin repeats, rolling his eyes.

Just as he reaches for the glass he can’t stop nursing tonight; a tap on his shoulder stops him. “Hey um..” The girl in front of him is the same as the rest. Gorgeous. Small build fitted out in a white crop top and blue skirt like she was meant to perfectly match with Armin. Her hair was short barely making it to the nape of her neck. She shifted her weight back and forth as she looked up at Armin with pinked cheeks.

“I really hate to bother you with this..” Then don’t. “Uh..” She steps back so Armin can look out at all the loud party goers and their raucous chatter. “You’re friends with him right?”

Through the sea of people she manages to point right at Jean. His black vest over a brown tee shirt surprisingly easy to pinpoint as he chatted away with a couple of other guys. His black fingers nails lightly tapping the edges of his glass as he laughed away without a care in the world. Loose hairs of his mullet pulled back with two black hair pins while the rest of his hair was perfectly gelled.

“Yeah.” Armin replied with a small roll of his eyes.

“Do you think maybe.. I can have his number?”

Armin suppresses the urge to snort. “Do you have a pen?” He asks

Sasha ends up being the one that hands one to him and he quickly scribbles Jean’s number onto a piece of paper. He hands it over and she responds with a quick, ‘thank you’ taking her leave as quickly as possible.

“Woah.. Forgot how bitchy you can be when you’ve had a few.” Sasha giggles though unlike the girl from before Armin’s glare does nothing to sway her.

“Did I forget to mention sometimes Jean’s girls come to me too?” He sighed

Connie had managed to grab a new glass while Sasha had fallen distracted. He lifted a bottle of vodka over the edge of the counter top, sloppily pouring a bit of it over his hand and onto the table before properly settling into an easy rhythm.

“No more! I’m serious Connie, you’ve had enough and you’re starting to get vulgar.” She snatched the glass just before he could drink from it, pushing it far away from his grasp.

“You bitch I have not!” He argues, it takes a second for him to register from the wide eyed expressions surrounding him just how loud and crass he’d been. “Alright I’m sorry.. please take me home.”

Sasha nods, slapping Connie’s back as she inches him off the stool and to his feet, “Hey I know you’re tired of taking messages tonight but could you maybe..”

“Tell Jean you’re taking Connie home? Sure why the fuck not?”

Armin sighs wrapping his hand around his own glass before it’s snatched from his palm, “You’ve had enough to.” Sasha points “Don’t you dare have another sip tonight.” And with that she’s stumbling through the crowd with Connie’s arm perched over her shoulder.

When Armin stands he almost knocks the chair over. I didn’t think I had that much.. He thinks. He yanks his hoodie from where it’s drooping through the empty back of the chair, pushing the furniture back up when it falls on him. And when he’s properly standing he takes a deep breath, staggering toward the direction the girl from before had pointed in.

Despite how dirty it is and his knowledge of such he rests his pounding skull down on the table upon arrival. The cool wood soothing his overly warm skin.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jean asks as Armin exhales gingerly

“Shut up.” He mutters

‘Too much bourbon I see.” Jean replies

Armin hates it. Hates this party. Hates the noise. Hates how Jean’s nails feel so good running through his sweaty blond hair.

“Come on, talk to me.”

“Girls think I’m the approachable friend.” Armin replies, standing up straight using the table in front of him for support.

“Well yeah.” Jean nods “I know but that’s just cause they don’t understand how cute, nice and charming you actually are. Those girls are missing out going to Eren when the real heartthrob is right in front of them.”

Armin snorts, “You need to stop drinking.”

“I figured right after I called you cute.” Jean slides his glass away turning his attention back to Armin. “ But I wasn’t lying.”

Armin shoots up, finger out towards Jean. “At least eight girls in the three hours we’ve been here have asked about Eren. Two asked about you.”

“Do you know the names of my two?”

“I think it was, I don’t know and the second was I don’t care.”

“Ouch.” Jean pressed a finger to his lip, the black nail polish accented in the strobe lighting. He pressed his chin into his palm leaning in closer to Armin. “Have you ever considered changing your hair? Maybe growing it out or cutting it more?”

“No I-”

The terrible clatter of glasses shook Armin and Jean from their conversation. Three girls all of whom were laughing at nothing now standing in front of them. “Hey!” One greeted

“Hello ladies.” Jean replied back while Armin gritted his teeth.

The girl farthest away snorted, gesturing with her hands to the girl who had spoken up to begin with. “So my friends-” She quickly slapped the third girl on the back who instantly began giggling again. “I’m sorry.”

Jean just nodded glancing at an unamused Armin.

“You know him right?” The first girl tried immediately covering her mouth as though she’d said something completely foul. She pointed across the room at Eren who seemed completely unresponsive to a one sided conversation with a random girl.

“Starting to wish I didn’t..”

“Huh?!” Yelled the third girl

“No, no..” The second girl began “It’s just cause these two like him.” The entire gaggle burst into loud giggles. All three of them pushing their hair away from their eyes and bouncing around like small children.

When the agitating screeching died down the second girl added “We wanna see who he likes best.” She finished

“Is he seeing anyone?” The first girl chimed in

“Not that I know of.” Armin answered

“Do you have his number?” The third girl asked

“I have it.” Jean responded before Armin could even create the sentence in his head.

Jean promptly jotted the number down giving it to the first girl who didn’t hesitate in snatching it from his hand and heading off. The second girl behind her soon followed by the only one from the group that didn’t leave their manners at home. The third girl smiling with an appreciative farewell.

Jean made a small noise in his throat, turning back to Armin with the nail of his thumb pressed under his teeth. “Maybe you should go home?.. You know what I’ll leave with you.”

“Jean, no offense but I don’t want pity.”

“When do you think Eren is gonna wanna leave?”

“I don’t know.” He huffed “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.”

He didn’t wait for Jean’s reply just grabbed his once discarded hoodie and headed through the mess of drunk partygoers towards the bathroom. He didn’t even need to actually use it. Just wanted to be out of sight of all the stupid drunk girls vying for Eren’s affections. Not even realizing that tissue has touched Eren longer than any of them will.

The bathroom door was closed and maybe that was a good thing because it wasn’t extremely likely that Armin wouldn’t stay in there for a couple hours after the night he’s endured. He lets out a long exhale hunting around for his phone. Blond hair sticking up as he slumps against the wall.

“Um hey.” Armin doesn’t even bother to look up. “Is someone in there?”

“Yup.” He grunts

Armin notes the slight shift in the person in front of him. He looks up completely unsurprised by the fleeting glance, the hands crossed behind their back and head bowed.

“Ok.” The girl begins but by this point Armin’s attention is redirected to his phone “My name is Y/N, I wanted to ask you if maybe I could have your number?”

Armin blinks expression completely unchanged as she hands over her phone. He lets his eyes roll around in his head taking the device and robotically typing in Eren’s number in contacts. When he gives it back to her she lets out a little squeak of excitement.

“I’ll call you!” She calls before running off

Wait.. Gears turn like clockwork in his brain. Slowly but surely the situation dawns on him. His number???? Did a girl? Particularly one as cute as her ask for his number??

Granted he’d only seen her for a couple seconds but she was most certainly the most put together girl that had approached him tonight. Clothes neat and tidy. No flopping around like a fish out of water at any point during the conversation. Hair done in a ponytail that wasn’t begging for release from its confines.

And he’d given her Eren’s number..

Shit!

Safe to say Armin bolted. Back down the hall, leaping up to search over the crowding heads all around. Successfully getting weird stares but that was beyond his problems at the moment. Once he’d decided that she wasn’t anywhere around he sprinted through out the door and towards the stairs.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” He called, hearing the sound of footsteps.

His heart collided with his ribcage, loud stomps ensuing as he sprinted around the bend at the bottom of the staircase. She was in his sights, her head turning and eyes making contact with his and just as soon his foot slipped. Body colliding with the first stair, then the second and so on till he’d successfully finished rolling down the entire flight. Slamming into the wall with a hard thud.

“Oh my god Armin!” She settled onto her knees, reaching out for his face. Delicate palms brushing over his sore cheeks. “Are you ok? Never mind, stupid question, let me call an ambulance.”

Blond lashes slowly fluttered close then open as she moved to pull her phone from her pocket. “Before you do.” Armin panted still working to catch his breath. “Can I give you my number? For real this time?”

Ok so this is unedited because I think writers block is trying to take me and I’m trying my hardest to keep it at bay. I have like 5 things in the works at the moment so I really don’t need that.

#armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #i feel so bad making Armin go through this but like it was really fun to write #unedited work #armin fic #armin fluff #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot fluff

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 136: Long Drive

Sorry friends. The second half of my week last week was really difficult and I went away for the weekend to recharge. Without further ado, here's the next ficlet. Thanks for your patience <3

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Harry loved the States for a lot of reasons; it was way easier to disappear here than in England; even if people knew his name, they were way less likely to recognize his face; you could basically pick any climate that you wanted and find a place that suited you; and lots of other weird things.

But mostly he loved road trips.

He loved the entire concept behind getting in a car and just driving. The road unfurling endlessly in front of him, windows down, radio turned up and blaring whatever struck his fancy. With Max in the car beside him, wagging his tail and sticking his head out of the window, Harry felt practically weightless.

"Alright, buddy," he told the pittie when he pulled over to grab some breakfast at a little diner, "You hang out in the back, yeah?" he asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to the broad bridge of his nose. "Go on," he said, nudging him toward the back that Harry had magically enlarged and turned into a comfortable living space.

Muggles had campers and rvs but with a little bit of magic, the beaten up Subaru served him just fine.

He got out and hit the lock button, listening to the satisfying little beep as he headed toward the diner, catching up his curls and tying them into a loose messy bun on top of his head.

The diner was cute, all red and white checkered decorations and a counter with spinny stools. Harry sat down at one and grabbed a menu, perusing and trying to decide what to order when he heard the crash of something being dropped to the ground and breaking.

His head snapped up and he blinked, wondering if it had been too long since he'd gone to sleep because he had to be hallucinating. "Malfoy?" he spluttered.

(Read more below the cut)

But before the other man could respond there was a shout from the kitchen in the back, "Damn it! You clumsy, stupid ass!" the man shouted and Harry felt himself recoiling from the anger in his voice. "You'll be paying for that!"

"Yes, sir!" Malfoy shouted back, bending over and hastily sweeping up the pieces.

"Well don't mess around with that now!" he shouted. "You've got a customer, you worthless piece of-" his voice trailed off as he slammed a door in the back but Harry could fill in the rest.

"Malfoy?" he repeated as the man in question stepped over to him. "How on earth did you find me?" he asked.

"You found me, Potter," he snapped. "Not the other way around. Now what can I get you?"

"You actually work here?" Harry asked in befuddlement.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, "Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be wearing this stupid apron and I wouldn't be getting screamed at by the arsehole that owns this place. What can I get you?" he repeated.

"Umm," he said, glancing down at the menu, "I will definitely have a cup of coffee. And then maybe the first special on your board with scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast," he said. "And also grape jelly, if you have it."

"Got it," Malfoy replied, scribbling on the ticket. "Coming right up."

He spun on his heel and strutted off before Harry could say anything more and Harry just stared after him, wondering if he was dreaming.

Malfoy was back a few minutes later with a mug and a coffee pot, filling Harry's cup and sliding it over to him.

"Thanks," Harry said, reaching for the sugar. "What are you-"

"Look," Malfoy hissed, leaning over and keeping his voice low, "Please do not blow this for me. I know that you have no reason to help me but I really need this job, Potter."

Harry blinked and by the time he'd unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Malfoy was gone again.

It wasn't long before the other man emerged once more, carrying Harry's plate of breakfast. "Here you go," he said as he set it down and slid a couple of grape jelly packets toward him. "Enjoy. Do you need a warm up on your coffee?"

"Uhh," Harry replied, glancing at his half full cup, "Sure."

Malfoy nodded and grabbed the pot to refill his cup.

"When do you get off work?" Harry found himself asking.

The other man's brow furrowed, "Why?"

He shrugged as he slathered jelly onto his toast, "Thought it might be nice to catch up."

"To catch up?" Malfoy repeated. "Is that code for-"

"Hear about your life," Harry supplied.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Fine. I get off at 10:00. If you pretend that you are just a customer passing through I'll give you fifteen minutes."

"Done," Harry replied easily. "So what touristy shite is there to do in this town until 10:00 am?"

-----------------

After he finished breakfast, Harry ended up just taking Max for a walk and then to the dog park to chase a ball around him. He'd worked hard to train him the first few months after he'd found him abandoned, tied up to a dumpster and all but starving. And Max had learned quickly, mastering basic commands in no time which was for the best, since people took one look at him and decided he was scary.

He wasn't, he was a sweet boy who loved people and who loved to play but it didn't seem to make any difference. Still, once he was trained, Harry had started taking him to the park and he wouldn't let other people bully them out.

Around 9:30, they headed back to the diner and Harry settled Max into the back, making sure his water bowl was full before he climbed back out of the car and leaned against the hood, waiting.

Malfoy emerged a few minuted after 10:00, looking a bit disheveled in his black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and immediately lit up a cigarette before looking around and spotting Harry. His eyebrows rose like he was surprised to see him before he squared his shoulders and made his way toward him.

"Hey," Harry said, straightening up as Malfoy approached him.

Malfoy blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, "Hey?" he asked. "Is that really what you have to say to me?" He shook his head, "Just get it over with Potter," he said. "If you want to gloat just fucking gloat so I can move on and go get my groceries."

"I don't want to gloat," Harry protested.

"What do you want, then?" he asked scathingly.

And that was the question, wasn't it? What did Harry want? "Why are you working here?" he asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he exhaled another puff of smoke, "It's amazing where you end up when you're a convicted death eater whose wand is monitored," he replied. "Then add to that the fact that it didn't seem to matter where I got myself set up in muggle London, someone found me and within hours I'd lose whatever job I'd been working. So here I am, just trying to get by and who should appear but the savior himself," he said with a little mock bow. "I should just put my two weeks in here now, at least-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone you're here," Harry said quickly.

"Right," he huffed sarcastically.

"I'm not," he argued, "Because if I told them where you are, they'd know where I've been."

"You're running away too?" Malfoy asked, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at Harry in surprise.

"Obviously," Harry replied. "Come on," he said after a moment. "Your feet must be killing you. I'm sure that arsehole doesn't give you breaks," he added as he opened the hatch.

"You want me to climb into the trunk of your car?"

He rolled his eyes, "I know you think I'm an idiot," he said, "But I'm less of one than you think. Just," he crawled in and stood up, "come on."

After a moment Malofy followed him through but before anything else could happen Max bounded over and all but climbed onto Malfoy's lap.

"Max-" he started to scold before Malfoy started talking over him.

"Oh, hello you sweet baby," he said, pulling Max further onto his lap so he could pet him better and scratch his neck. They looked ridiculous, Max was almost as big as Malfoy, but there he sat anyway, "hello. Aren't you a lovie?" he asked. "Yes you are. You're a giant lovie," he said.

And in that moment, Harry's mind was made up. "Have you ever gone on a road trip?" he asked.

Malfoy looked up at him and Max licked a stripe up his cheek. He laughed and stroked his side, "What?" he asked.

"Have you ever gone on a road trip?" Harry repeated.

"What is that?"

"Like a really long drive," he said. "Where you just get in your car and drive and stop for food when you want to and sleep when you want to." He scratched the back of his neck, "Max and I are headed to California to see the giant redwoods."

"That sounds nice for the two of you," Malfoy replied, steadily patting Max.

"Come with us," Harry said.

The other man blinked. "Sorry?"

"Just," he shrugged, "What else do you have here?"

"A job-"

"That you hate."

"A flat-"

"That is probably smaller than this," he said gesturing to the space they were sitting in.

"What happens when you get sick of me?"

He shook his head, "Come on. Just come with us. If I kick you out I'll give you $5000. That should be enough to help you settle wherever you want, right?"

"Why?"

He stared at him for a moment. There were a thousand reasons that flitted through Harry's mind, a thousand things that he could say, but none of them made any sense. Not yet at least. "Why not?" he settled on.

Malfoy took a slow inhale and then nodded once. "Fine, but you're going to need to make a second bed and we have to stop for my stuff."

"Done," Harry replied, grinning and feeling the familiar feeling of freedom that he felt when he was gliding down the open road unfurling in his chest.

Finally, he was going on an adventure worth having.

------------------

Day 135: Off-Guard | Day 137: Symmetry

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #sorry I've been awol for a few days #drarry #drarry drabbles #road trips #down and out draco #running away #freedom

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Epilogue

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

At this point, what can be considered normal?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

It was a nice late morning. The sun was shining but thankfully, it was blocked out by the dark curtains. It was nice and quiet, only the sounds of your breathing as you slept peacefully. There were no alarm clocks or phone calls-

*BANG BANG BANG*

“Yoongi hyung! You’ve been holding onto her for hours! She needs to come out!” Taehyung was banging on the door. You could hear Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok and Jin there too.

“Yeah! She needs to work!”

That was a lie. After coming back from performing Geumjae’s surgery yesterday, the boys had insisted you take a break since it was a long, gruelling surgery. But then again, the others would do anything to get the pale man to open the door for them.

“Just keep quiet and they’ll go away soon.” Yoongi grumbled, holding you tighter, totally unaffected by the screams.

“No, we won’t!” Seems that they heard him.

“Come on, I have to get up.” You patted his back. He tucked you into the crook on his neck like a mother holding her child. His cheek pressed against the top of your head as he huffed.

“You don’t have to get up. It’s your day off.” He murmured. You giggled, arm slinging around him in defeat.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your head.

“That’s it! I don’t hear movement! Either get the keys or Jungkook, kick the door down.” You heard more commotion outside. Everyday was a chaotic day in the Bangtan household.

“Ugh, hang on a sec.” Yoongi got out of bed, ready to give them an earful. But the moment he opened the door, he was mowed down by everyone else as they approached you, who was on the bed. You welcomed them with open arms and they piled on, engulfing you in big hugs and smiles. Yoongi stood there, glaring at you.

“Yah! Get off!” Yoongi shouted.

“Okay.” They willingly slipped off the bed, which was surprising. Until Jungkook scooped you up into his arms, running out of the room. He cackled evilly while you yelped, arms tightened around his neck in fear.

“I’m hom- What...” Namjoon stopped in the doorway when he saw what was going on. You have him a pleading look.

“Kook, let her down now.” Namjoon frowned. As much as you liked to play around and have fun with the boys, sometimes, all you would like is a peaceful morning.

“With all due respect, hyung. If you try to take my baby away from me, I will actually fight you.” Jungkook said.

“Rich coming from the guy who took her from me. Fight him, Joon.” Yoongi snorted from the top of the stairs. Knowing that the boys will actually fight each other (which you do tell them is dumb), you pinched Jungkook’s pressure point, temporarily immobilising him.

“Ah!” He yelped as he let go of you. You fell onto the couch, standing up and straightening Yoongi’s your hoodie. With a sigh, you headed over to Namjoon to properly greet him after his early morning meeting.

“Welcome home.” You grinned.

“Thank you, my love.” He wrapped an arm around you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re bleeding!” Your eyes widened when you saw his knuckles. It looked exactly like Jungkook’s knuckles. Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Grabbing his wrist, you brought him to the office.

“Love, I can patch it up. They’re small wounds. You’re supposed to be resting.” Namjoon told you. You shook your head while washing your hands.

“Small wounds that can get infected, Joon. And I don’t need to rest much more, I knocked out like a light with Yoongi last night.” You chuckled, grabbing your first aid kit. You pulled your stool to sit in front of him and began to clean his wounds. The first thing you did was remove some of the dried blood that crusted on the side.

“It’s gonna sting.” You said before putting the antiseptic. He winced slightly, his nose scrunching up.

“You guys never get used to it.” You laughed. Once the wounds were cleaned, you bandaged his knuckles. You placed his hand in yours, inspecting his hand for more injuries.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything again.” You lectured.

“Because I have a doctor that takes good care of me.” Namjoon grinned. You shook your head, kissing his cheek.

“Please, I already told you not to overwork them considering they just got better after you broke them. And you always scold the younger ones for not listening to me when you’re no better.” You teased. Namjoon laughed.

“If I have you to take care of me, I will get injured more.” Namjoon hugged your waist. You flicked his forehead.

“I dare you, Kim Namjoon.” You frowned.

“Alright, alright. Namjoon looks good and patched up! Now it’s my turn, I want my morning kiss. Come here.” Jin yanked you away by your waist, dipping you down and showering you in kisses. You burst out laughing, grabbing onto his shirt so you won’t fall back.

“I’m going to get a coffee.” You shuffled away to the kitchen. The maids prepared your usual iced coffee.

“Thank you.” You yawned and sipped before going back out. You sat on the couch and Jimin sat down, bringing your legs up to drape over his lap. When your phone buzzed, you took it out of your pocket to check.

“Ah, I have to go check on Geumjae. He just woke up.” You announced.

“But it’s your day off.” Hoseok said.

“I know. But it’s the day after his surgery so I have to make sure he’s feeling alright and not having any complications, considering it was a major surgery.” You grunted as you stood up. You quickly finished your drink and went to change. Yoongi would be accompanying you, of course, to visit his brother. The other boys decided to tag along... just to not be left out.

“You guys go grab a bite. I shouldn’t be too long.” You sent them a kiss as they dropped you off at the staff entrance.

“We love you.” They said.

“I love you all too.” You smiled and waved as they drove to the public parking. Slipping on your coat, you went to Geumjae’s private ward. He was awake, sitting up slightly and watching the television that was provided.

“Hey, got here as soon as I heard you were awake. Yoongi should be coming up soon, he’s parking the car.” You greeted.

“Hey... Thanks again... for everything. Not just the surgery... but for making me realise my mistake. I’m so glad Yoongi and I are close again. It’s really all thanks to you.” He smiled weakly.

“Don’t mention it. How are you feeling?”

“A little light headed. And sore.” His hand lightly touched his clothed chest where the surgery sutures were underneath.

“That’s normal, considering the effects of the anaesthesia is wearing off. I’ll still put you on IV painkillers for the next day or two, until the wound starts to heal more and cause less pain. Can I check your wound?” You asked. He nodded and you unbuttoned his shirt to check the sutures.

“Looks good. I’ll replace the gauze.” You removed the protecting gauze above the sutures and replaced it with a clean one.

“Good news is we managed to remove the affected tissue. You still have to be on your medications for the next week? We will do a follow up biopsy after just to make sure we have completely eradicated the cancer.” You instructed.

“Okay. Thank you.” He nodded as you buttoned his shirt up.

“Hyung.” Yoongi came in.

“Yoongi.” His brother greeted as you straightened up. You let Yoongi get closer to his brother as you removed your gloves and washed your hands. As they chatted, you checked his charts.

“Take your time, Yoongs. I’ll go find the others.” You smiled. Yoongi nodded, reaching to peck your temple before sitting down to speak with Geumjae. You gave them privacy, exiting the room. You went to the nurse’s station to update Geumjae’s file. Although the surgery was tiring, you learnt a lot and was glad for the experience.

“Mr Min in Room 32 should be in IV fluids until he’s no longer nauseated by the anaesthesia. Then move him to soft foods.” You told the nurse, who nodded her head and keyed in the instructions to the patient’s system profile.

“Thank you!” You smiled and handed the file to her. You went to the vending machine to get a can coffee.

“Hi, are you a doctor here?” Someone appeared.

“Kinda?” You chuckled, pressing the button for your cold coffee. You weren’t gonna tell some stranger the long story about you being a private doctor to singular patient here.

“I’m a new resident. Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out. You gave a small smile, shaking his outstretched hand.

“You’re Dr (y/l/n)’s daughter right?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“I look forward to working with you, sunbae. I know you did the recent lung cancer tissue extraction surgery, it was very knowledgeable and I learnt a lot.” He bowed.

“Thanks... But I don’t actually work here as a mentor so you won’t see me around anymore. The other doctors are just as good, I’m sure of it. Everyone is trained and of professional calibre, you will learn a lot from them as well.” You were starting to get a little awkward by his overly enthusiastic disposition.

“Baby, there you are.” A voice appeared and you saw your 6 other boyfriends there. They did not look pleased.

“You took so long so we came to find you. We had to stop Kook from ordering everything on the cafeteria menu.” Jimin laughed. You shook your head at the maknae, who pouted.

“I’m still a growing boy.” He argued. He wasn’t, actually.

“Who’s this?” Jin raised an eyebrow.

“Uh... He’s a new hoobae that works here.” You explained, realising that you hadn’t even learnt about this resident’s name. But it didn’t matter, you probably weren’t going to see him after this anyway.

“Come, jagi. We should go.” Taehyung grasped your hand, glaring at the now scared boy. You shook your head, knowing exactly what they were doing. Even before you got together, the boys always said you were their partner just to keep other girls away. Vice versa, they branded themselves as your boyfriends to scare other guys away.

“I-I have to go. Bye.” He bowed and scurried off.

“You guys are horrible, you know that?” You folded your arms with a shake of your head. Hoseok grinned, leaning to peck your cheek. You reached over to straighten his blazer.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Yoongi blinked, seeing the group of you there. You nodded your head.

“Are you hungry? We bought you guys sandwiches.” Namjoon lifted the bags up. Instead of sitting there to eat, you ate in the van as Hoseok drove.

“Here.” You gave some to Jungkook.

“But you hardly ate any of it yourself.” He told you. You just shrugged, not really having the appetite to eat anything. Jungkook leaned forward to eat the last bit of the sandwich out of your hand. You would much rather have your coffee instead of the sandwich.

“Shall we have barbecue tonight?” You asked the boys.

“It’s been a while.” They nodded their heads. Hoseok detoured and went to the big supermarket. You split into 3 teams, Jin and Yoongi buying the meat, Hoseok and Namjoon drinks and you with the maknaes for everything else.

“Buy a lot of meat, hyung!” Jungkook shouted to Jin as he placed his hands on your shoulders to push you to the other aisle.

“Hyung wanted coarse salt for his shrimp. This or this?” Jimin held up both the boxes. You looked at both of them before pointing to one. He happily placed it into the cart.

“Shall I make japchae?” You asked them.

“Yes!” Taehyung cheered. You sent a message to Yoongi to pick up some beef for japchae from the counter for you. After that, you picked up some vegetables that would go into japchae. Jimin trailed after you obediently while Taehyung and Jungkook disappeared. Jungkook had reappeared with loads of bags of snacks in his arms.

“Koo! That’s too much.” You chuckled at your now almost full cart, half filled with bags of chips.

“But we need more snacks for our movie nights! And besides, Jin hyung and Taehyung hyung keep eating my snacks. This is so they won’t take mine.” Jungkook pouted.

“Banana milk!” He quickly got distracted by the dairy section and ran off.

“You know, I can see why people don’t believe our line of jobs sometimes and how Jungkook is supposedly our best fighter.” Jimin scoffed.

“Well, take his banana milk and you’ll truly see how well he can fight.” You giggled as you placed some carrots and bell peppers into the cart. Taehyung came with 3 different ssamjang containers.

“Tae, why are you getting so much? We won’t be able to finish them all in one night.” Jimin scolded.

“But these are brands I haven’t tried before! So I wanna see which is the best. Then I’ll know to buy it next time!” Taehyung argued with his best friend. You shook your head and continued, Taehyung loved ssamjang. There’s no arguing in that. Jungkook came back with banana milk and cheese.

“You want cheese rice?” You asked.

“How did you know?!”

“Koo, even if I’ve only been your girlfriend for a short while, I have lived with you longer. You practically breathe cheese rice.” You scoffed, offended. Jungkook bunny grinned, wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course, you know me well.” He peppered kissed all over your cheek. When you were done, you went to meet the others.

“Boys, I may not be specialising in hepatology but that amount of alcohol is definitely not good for you.” You raised an eyebrow at the amount of alcohol that was stacked in Namjoon and Hoseok’s cart. Totally not in a helping way, Taehyung even got a few bottles of his and Seokjin’s favourite plum wine to add in. You laughed.

“We needed to stock the bar anyway. We promise not to drink so much.” Hoseok winked.

“Yoongi hyung and Seokjin hyung are ready. They’ll meet us at the cashier.” Namjoon informed. You nodded your head and you all went to pay.

“A big party?” He joked as he scanned.

“You could say that.” You smiled, waiting to pay with the card that the boys had given you for ‘house’ items like their groceries and meals. But honestly, they just wanted an excuse to give you a card to spend on yourself.

“You’re pretty.” He complimented.

“Oh... Thanks.” You blushed. A sudden clear of the throat made you jump slightly. You turned to see Namjoon and Yoongi with stern looks on their faces.

“Are you done yet, baby girl?” Yoongi emphasised on the pet name, which he never really uses at all. You blinked, still in slight shock. The cashier looked terrified suddenly, quickening his pace to finish scanning all your items. Namjoon wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Love, later let the others load the van alright? Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” Namjoon smiled sweetly at you.

“O...kay?”

“Uh, payment please?” He squeaked. Before you could hand the card over, Yoongi plucked it out of your hand and handed it for him to swipe. He gave it back with two hands and a deep bow.

“Let’s go.” Yoongi held your hand and led you away. The boys loaded the car and you were ready to head home. Suddenly, their phones all rang at the same time. Namjoon took his phone out to check the notification. It was quiet for a while.

“Everything okay?” You blinked.

“Yeah... But looks like we’ll have to return to work for a while.” Namjoon sighed. You nodded your head.

“We’ll drop you home. It’ll be safer.” Jin told you. Again, you nodded. You knew how these business meetings could go from bad to worse in only a couple of seconds. Hoseok pulled up to the house and you jumped out.

“Stay safe, boys.” You told the 7. They sent you in with hugs and kisses, waiting for you to disappear into the house with the maids before Taehyung pulled the butler closer to whisper something into his ear. The butler nodded his head, bowing deeply. He closed the door for the van, standing on the porch until the van disappeared.

“Agashi, I was told that there will be barbecue tonight? Shall I prepare the ingredients?” The butler smiled as the other staff brought the groceries in.

“I wanna help cook! Let me change first.” You smiled and went upstairs to the room. You changed out of your hospital clothes and into more comfortable clothes, aka Jimin’s lounge pants and Hoseok’s hoodie.

“Thanks for bringing this all in guys!” You said to them as you saw them clearing all the bags of shopping and keeping everything in its place. You really bought a lot.

“What do you want to make?” The maid asked.

“Taehyung likes marinated kimchi. And Jungkook was saying he wanted cheese rice to go with the meat. I also bought japchae ingredients.” You said.

“Alright.”

“You guys can take a break. Don’t worry, I would like to think I’m better in the kitchen than Namjoon is.” You joked and they all laughed, loving your attitude. The mansion’s staff loved working with you.

“We’ll help where we can.” The cook took the ingredients out for you, laying them out neatly. You started with the marinated kimchi, which was frying kimchi with garlic, spam and minced meat. While the rest of the staff attended to the things in the mansion, the cook stayed by your side in case you needed help.

“I think a bigger dice is okay.” He demonstrated.

“You can put it here to cool. Then I’ll close the container later.” He gave you the plastic container. You scraped the contents from the pan to the container.

“Are there some side dishes that go well with the barbecue? That the boys will like.” You asked him. He went to the fridge to look through what was inside to make side dishes.

“We have a few hours so we can do some pickled radish, spicy cucumbers, the fried anchovies that master Seokjin likes?” He suggested.

“Sounds exciting!” You clapped your hands.

The next few hours were spent cooking and preparing various meals to go with the barbecue for the night. You learnt a lot from the cook and your energy was mostly fuelled with iced coffee (of course). You were just happy to prepare so much food for your boys now that you knew what their tastes were like. There was even time to make grapefruit syrup for Taehyung’s sodas.

“I’ll help prep the shrimp too.” You rolled your sleeves up to prepare for Yoongi’s salt baked shrimp on the grill.

“Ah, agashi. Let me. Your hands may smell. After all, you’ve been cooking the whole day, why don’t you take a break? I insist.” The cook shook his head.

“Oh, alright. I’m only giving in because I need to make Koo’s cheese rice later.” You giggled. The cook nodded and you grabbed a snack before leaving the kitchen. You helped the staff set up the barbecue outside.

“Let me help.” You arranged the chairs.

“It’s okay, agashi. Please rest.” The maids shook their heads. Going to retrieve Kookie, you sat under the gazebo with a book.

“Kookie ah. Don’t do that.” You stroked his head as he began to nibble the corner of your book again. Looks like even without the boys here, you still wouldn’t be able to read in peace.

“Where are they?” You checked your phone, there were no calls or messages from any of the boys. As the sun set, you were seated in your designated seat, which was in between Jungkook and Hoseok. You checked your phone to see the time, it was getting late.

You perked up when you heard the door to the backyard open and footsteps. However, when you turned your head, the smile dropped from your face.

Ko-fi link

Series Masterlist

[If you are reading this, thank you for making it to the end. For now. I’ll see you in the sequel ‘Everything Between Us’]

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737 notes · View notes

coollemonsaresour · 3 years

Text

The Love That Don't Stop

Pairing: Steve Rogers x daughter reader, Steve Roger x Natasha Romanoff. Warnings: Child abandonment, angst, fluff

Summary: It is Y/n's birthday, and she gets an unexpected present.

Word count: 2632

Request: @maximeevansblog ; The reader (me ) is the daughter of Steve rogenrs and its the readers birtday, and he takes her to the nail en hair salon , and they come back, and in the tower, they have a suprise party for her, and natasha comes with adoption papers and, he wants to her mom and a lotts of fluff thanks, and if its ready you tag me right ( natasha and Steve are dating) thanks. And if its ready you tag me right thanks

Request: Anonymous; can you do a Natasha x black!child!reader? I really liked your other fic. You don't have to if you don't want to.

A/n: I made lots of changes, cause when I went to go post it two weeks ago, my fics were two similar to the other two. The highlighted words are in realtion to the person that requested. Because I wanted to incorporate them into the fic 🙃

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, BeEeee- you were starting to get agitated, and brought your fist down on your alarm clock, smashing it to pieces. But hey, it’s not your fault, you got your father’s enhancements through genetics, just the perks of being a Rogers.

Still in bed, you let out a yawn, and you began to stretch; mid-stretch that is when it had clicked.

It’s My Birthday.

And that’s when you smelled it. The sweet smell of a birthday tradition you and your dad have had for the past nine years of your life.

One day you showed your dad Steven Universe, and it happened to be the together breakfast episode. So ever since then, every morning of your birthday, you and your dad sit down together and have Together Breakfast.

As soon as you got out of the shower, you threw on some clothes and dash to the Kitchen. As soon as you enter you were met by a horrible sight. Your dad and a redhead kissing.

Nat and your dad have been friends since he had come out of the ice, a became even closer when you were born. Nat was like a mom to you, but you never would say that out loud, cause you didn’t want to make it wired or have her feel uncomfortable.

Your mom was never in the picture, she left you and your dad five days after you were born. Steve had no idea of how to raise a kid, he was completely lost, but then Nat had offered to help him out. The pair worked as such a great team people often thought that they were actually a couple. After years of a long, long sturdy friendship, your dad finally asked the assassin out. So basically they have been dating for about two and a half years now.

“Ew, gross,” you said, dramatically shielding your face from the sight. “ Good Morning Y/n, happy birthday,” they both said. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” you said as you sat down at the island stools. “You mean this public display of affection?” he said with a smirk and then pulled Nat in for another kiss. You then shield your face away and then began gagging and reaching.

“So it is….10:30,” you said looking around “Where’s Together Breakfast?” you said whining. “It’s right here you big baby,” Nat said teasing.

“ Cheers to fifteen years of chaotic life,” you said holding up a fork “Cheers!” they said, you each then taking a bite.

“So, Y/n, anything special on thing on the agenda today,” Nat said wriggling her eyebrows. “Not really, I was hoping that we could just go to the spa, then the salon, and just have a chill day.” You said taking another bite. “Oooh, sorry, y/n I can’t, join you today, I have busine- “ you cut Nat off with a loud groan. “ But its’ my birthdayyyyy,” you said with an adorable pout. “I know, and I’m sorry,” she said squashing your cheeks together “and I will make it up to you, but for right now-” she paused reaching over the counter to grab her bag “ I have to go,” she said giving you small hug and then turning to give steve a quick peck on the lips, and heading for the door. “ Bye,” Steve said, “bye Nat,” You say still mopping. “Bye babes,” she says giving the two an air kiss before disappearing out the door.

“So, I guess it is just me and you, Y/n,” Steve said as he started cleaning up breakfast. “Ya, I guess so, though I really wanted Nat to come today. Alright, imma got get ready so that we could go,” you said heading back to your room, leaving Steve smiling at your comment about Nat; not that you even realized.

---

“Alright, where here,” Steve said as the uber pulled up to the salon. You both walked in and were greeted by an overlay excited worker. “Hi, my name is Jess, I will be helping you out today” you then gave her a small, that she returned, then started eyeing Steve like he was her last meal. She looked like she was in her early-twenties, pale skin, about 5’3, blonde hair, and brown eyes. Probably working this job to pay off student loans. She turned to Steve, with scrunched eyebrows.

“Are you Captain America?” she asked with a smirk of curiosity, but it looked like she was trying to amuse him before he could answer “yes, he is, and he’s taken, Maybe next time sweetheart, ” you said pulling you dad away from Jess, and toward the receptionist desk.

“ Hi, Appointment for Y/n Rogers,” You say, leaning against the desk. “Right this way.”

---

You were currently sitting in a chair in front of a medium-size mirror, your hands resetting on the armrest, careful not themes up the freshly done nails. Then two Beautistions approached us, then one of them turned to Steve and asked, “are you getting your, hair done too,”

“No”

“Yes”

you and Steve say at the same time.

“Please dad, you can you a new due,” you say, Steve just rapidly shakes his head rapidly no.

“What wrong with the style I have now?” he asked. “You look like an upgraded BackStreet boy,” you reply in full honesty. He then puts his hand over his chest and pretends to be hurt. “You should die it!” one of the Beautistion said, “Great Idea…” you hesitated, search for her name tag.

“Max” she finished for you, seeing what you were trying to do. “If you don’t want to, die your whole head, you can start with highlights,” she said with a smile of excitement. Steve was about to say no until he saw your adorable pleading face. “Fine,” he said putting his hands up in defeat and moving into the salon chair next to yours.

---

After you left the Spa you and your dad headed to central park for a walk, something you two did a lot when you were younger.

You then pulled out your phone and tried to Facetime “Natty Bare 😘” but there was no answer. Which was strange, because Nat always answers your calls, no matter who, what, when, where, and why. Steve saw what you did and smiled, a smug smile. "What are you doing?" Your dad asked

"I wanted to show Nat your blue hair streaks" you said with a pout.

Halfway through the walk your legs were getting tired so you jumped on your dad’s back, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his hip.

“You’re like a pretzel,” he says linking his arms under your knees for better support. “And, you’re like a Dorito,” you tiredly mumble into the crook of his neck, Steve chuckled at the comment.

After walking a little longer you fall asleep. Steve then tightened his grip a little, as if he was giving a backward hug. He just could believe how fast his baby girl was growing up.

---

When they reached the tower’s elevator, Steve placed Y/n down on her feet to wake you.

“Y/n, baby, I need you to wake up for a minute.” “But why,” you mumbled as you leaned against him for support since you were still tired. “Cause if you don’t then this could be a very embarrassing photo.” “what pho-” before you could finish, the elevator doors opened, and then...

“SURPRISE!”

A tired smile then played its role on your face. You looked around and saw everyone there, except Nat.

Mabey she will show up later you thought to yourself.

---

An hour later she still has yet shone up. You asked around and Tony told you that she had a last-minute mission, but that she should be back at any time now. That failed to relieve your nerves.

But those nerves became worse when it was time to cut the cake. You know she was busy but would she really miss your birthday.

Apparently, yes, yes she would. Because the party was over, over an hour ago, and now it was currently 9:30.

Your dad knew that you were really bummed out that Nat missed your party, so he suggested a movie night. Movie nights were special to you and your dad because it became something you two did together, to destress. Just the two of you, Daddy and Daughter.

“Got room for one more.” came a voice that you recognized immediately. “Sorry, this is a two-person couch,” you shot back, anger leaking from your voice, your eyes never leaving the tv screen, ignoring the Russian, as she came into your view.

Steve then paused the movie, causing you to turn your head toward him, annoyed.

“How was the mission,” he asked her.

“I don’t know” She replied accompanied by a tight-lipped smile and shrug. You were about to say something but “Because it is not over yet,” she said looking nervous.

She then pulled out a manila folder and approached you and sat down in between Steve. The Folder was labeled “Confidential” with a red ribbon and bow tied around. The folder She then handed you the folder causing you to look up at them in question.

“Open it,” Steve said pulled Nat toward him sat her in between his legs, and then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to help calm the nerves surging through her.

You carefully untied the ribbon, and open the folder. “On this day Y/n M/n Ro-” You mumbled quietly and then stopped, your face going blank. Your vision then started to get blurry with tears threatening to spill.

“Wow, y-you’re really, um getting good at that face,” Nat said, a million thoughts going through her mind.

“Y/n,” Nat said, voice flooded with worry. When you didn’t look at her, she used her fingers to lift your chin, so that you were looking at her. And when you locked with her that’s when the dames broke, as the tears sprang free from your eyes.

“Oh, no, baby, baby please, don’t cry,” she said trying to wipe away the tears rapidly falling down your face. “ I understand if you don’t want to go through with it,” she said wiping the tear that fell from her face.

“We don-”

She was cut off with the air being knocked out of her, as you crashed into her wrapping your arms around her torso, burying your face in her stomach, sobbing. She then wrapped her arms around you and held you close, one hand rubbing up and down your back trying to calm you, the other gently twirling some of your coils with her fingers.

Nat always felt like you were her child, even some people in public would mistake her for your mom, But she didn’t know how you felt.

Nat was so nervous that her soul was shaking. She knew how the topic of a Mother, is one that stings for you.

---

*Flashback*

Nat POV

I pulled up to Y/n’s school, today was her first day of Kindergarten, and in the morning she was so excited. That morning I bruised her hair into two puffs, curled her sideburns, and she then wore a Captain America shirt, with joggers and light-up sneakers. I swear she was the cutest four-year-old in the world.

I then saw Y/n exit the school, but my smile flattened when I saw the sad expression on her face. I then hopped out of the car and head toward her, as I get closer it looks as if she was crying. When I get to her I pick her up and place her on my hip, and instead of her giving me a hug like she usually does she just tucks her head into my neck.

“Hey, baby,” I saw trying to cheer her up “You okay,” I ask she just nodded and let out a little sigh. Then I hear laughing voices and I turn my head to see a group of second graders.

“See I told you to see was adopted, her parents probably didn’t love her,” one of them said.

“ There is no way Captain America is her dad If that lady is her mom, they’re both white, and she’s not”

“She just a baby and a lier,”

“ She probably doesn’t even have a mom,” another said laughing, causing Y/n to sniffle.

I then cleared my throat, successfully grabbing the attention of the bullies, sending them a death glare, and then headed to the car, and then buckled Y/n into her car seat. I then sat in the driver’s seat and adjusted the rearview mirror so that we could look at each other.

“Don’t listen to those, mouth breathers Y/n you hear me.” Y/n still didn’t look at me her eyes trained on her fingers fiddling in her lap.

“Um, Nat, umm, where is my mom, and w-why, um, why does she, not love m-me?” Y/n said with a sniffle. Her question made me want to go up to those kids and beat the shit out of them.

“ well y/n your mom had to do something important and should be back soon,” I had to lie to her because I didn’t know how to explain to a four-year-old, that her mother abandoned her and her dad because she thinks giving life to the sweetest little girl was a mistake.

Like what did Маленький шар совершенства, ever do to her.

“But Y/n, let me tell you this, Your dad loves you, so much and would let anything bad happen to you, you know that right detka,” she then nodded her head, sniffled, and wiped her tears.

“And I love you too, milashka, and I will never stop loving you.” I love you, Nat” “Now how about we get some Ice cream annnnnd, not tell Steve, because he is going to be mad because you haven’t eaten any dinner yet,” I said starting the car and putting a smile on Y/n’s face.

How could a mother ever leave a child like this, so sweet, innocent, and pure?

*Flashback over*

---

No one’s POV

“So is that a yes, baby?” Nat asked nervously that you might say no because you were crying.

You just nodded your head yes, as Nat hugged you tighter.

“Oh, dad I forgot to tell you, while we were out...I, um, need a new alarm clock,” you said with a nervous chuckle.

“Again,” they both said, not surprised at all.

“Mabey you should use your phone, you’re always pretty careful with that,” Nat said bopping your nose and squishing your cheeks together. You then reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. You went to the contacts and changed “Natty 😘” to “Mama🔥”.

“What’s my contact name Y/n?” Your dad asked.

“❤️Captain🤍Crunch💙,” you said sliding your phone back into your pocket and laying back down on Nat’s stomach.

“ I love you, mama,” you said nuzzling further into her

“I love to baby, always has and don’t plan on stopping”

*Bonus*

(Nat and Steve in the kitchen after putting Y/n to bed, because she fell asleep during the rest of the movie because you were tired after crying)

“So...what’s up with the hair, “ Nat said sipping on her tea, taking a step closer to Steve. He then shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head, with a goofy smile. “Uhh, Y/n thought I needed a new look,” He responds shaking the colorful hair from side to side. “Well, I like it,” she says as she runs her hands through his hair, “ Oh, do you,” Steve said placing his hands on her hips. “Yea…I do,” she says standing on her tippy-toe, kissing his lips. Steve then leaned more into the kiss. They went from kiss to make out sess, really quick.

“How about we don’t do this in the kitchen,”

“Mmhm”

---

@the-bau-quinjet

#steve rogers x daughter!reader #mom nat #dad steve #romanogers #steven universe #steve rogers #natasha x child!reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x teen reader #avengers x black!reader #avengers poc reader #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #avengers x reader #Romanogers x reader #Romanogers x daughter reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #Steve Rogers x daughter reader #Natash Romanoff

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Say my name

Summary: You are the new head seamstress at the palace and tasked with the making of new clothes for the General who had his eye on you ever since he first saw you.

Pairing: General Kirigan x F!reader

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: pining, fluff (kinda?), smut (oral; f receiving, unprotected sex, cum play👀)

A/N: I fully blame @constip8merm8 for this. You know why. I can't promise there will be more, but I had to get this out of my head. This is just an excuse to write some filth, sorry dudes. Tagging @agirllovespancakes cause she wanted me to 💜

Masterlist

You checked everything you would need in the next hour again, lining it up with precision as you waited. You were nervous. Not because the task was complicated, you had been the King’s seamstress for about three years by now, no.

You were nervous because it was him who requested your services personally.

General Kirigan.

You had only met him once briefly as he passed by. Usually his garments were made by the senior seamstress. But she had retired last month, leaving you in charge. Up until now some of your male colleagues had worked with him. But today he wanted you.

And you were positive you would do a superb job. You just had to ignore the handsome man whose body you had to touch to get the measurements you needed to sew his new cloak, coat and pants.

Rubbing your sweaty hands on your thighs you almost jumped when there was a knock at the door. The door opened, revealing one of the many servants, announcing the man who walked in next, before the door was closed again, leaving you alone with the General. You breathed in deeply, a little smile on your face.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” you didn’t know why but you bowed a little. Looking up you saw his eyes looking down at you with amusement.

“There’s no need for that. Yet, you better hurry, I have to leave by sundown,” he said and you nodded.

“Will you please take your cloak and coat off, so I can begin with the measurement?” you asked and he nodded, his fingers working each button of his dark coat. You averted your eyes to ignore how his long fingers worked at getting himself undressed. You heard him take off his cloak as you reached for the tape measure and turned to face him.

“I’m gonna be quick,” you promised as you began to work.

He was quiet and still as a stature as you took his measurements. You had your problems reaching his neck but you managed. He was taller than you and you cursed yourself that you didn’t bring your stool so you could work properly. Everytime you looked at him you found his eyes already on yours. This didn’t help your nervousness at all and you felt yourself flush even more.

“If I might say, this would have been easier if I had Manuel do this, he is taller than me,” you said with a nervous smile as you stopped in front of him. He smiled playfully.

“That might be, but I do enjoy your hands more than I do Manuel’s,” he looked at you and you sucked your bottom lip in, not daring to answer.

Not thinking clearly, you got on your knees to get the measurements for his pants, missing the dark look he gave you at seeing you on your knees just where he imagined you ever since he first saw you all these months ago.

He had been thinking about you more than he would like to admit.

You hummed, writing down everything you needed, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you measured up his, ending way too close to his groin. You looked up at him with big eyes as he groaned and closed his eyes, trying to get his body, his mind, in control. He wanted nothing more than to pick you up and push you against the nearest wall. You saw his jaw tense and you could see just how affected he seemed to be by your closeness as you looked at his growing bulge.

Wetting your lips you got up, turning away from him to write down everything you need.

“Would you like something similar to before, or can I try out some new designs?” you asked, still not turning around, not trusting yourself to not do something even more inappropriate.

“Surprise me,” he said quietly and you nodded. You took more time than usual to write everything down before you turned towards him again. You only needed one measurement until you were finished. Smiling softly, you looked at him.

“Could you bend down so I can measure your…” you gestured up to his neck and he nodded. You expected him to just bend down to let you quickly get the measurements but he kneeled down, now looking up at you and you were pretty sure you were about to faint. He was so close and his scent invading your nose, making you breathe out shakily. If he noticed your shaking hands he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead you felt one of his hands carefully rest on your waist as if to calm you down. This had the complete opposite effect. You let your hands fall to his shoulder, closing your eyes as you breathed in deeply.

“I got everything I need,” you whispered as you opened your eyes and found him looking at you with an expression you couldn’t name. He was so handsome. You wanted to touch him. To caress him. To kiss him. But you were only one mere servant to the king. Even though you got the impression that he wouldn’t mind, you didn’t want to be one of those girls he lay with and never be heard from again.

“Perfect,” he said quietly, his hand on your waist squeezing lightly before he got up to stand at his full height again.

“I could have something ready until the end of next week,” you said and he nodded with a small smile.

“Send word once you're finished, and I’ll make time so we can try them on,” he reached for his coat and cloak.

“Oh you don’t need me to try them on, General. I can just send someone…”

“No. I need you there,” he said and the look he gave you didn’t leave any room for arguments.

“Of course General,” you whispered and nodded. He stepped closer after he had buttoned his coat and you couldn’t stop yourself as your hands reached up to close the last 3 buttons.

“Call me Aleksander…” he whispered, as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling him take a step back.

He was gone by the time you opened your eyes again.

You were nervous. Someone had helped you with the garments you had made for General Kirigain, Aleksander, and now you found yourself waiting for him in his chambers. This was highly inappropriate. But not more inappropriate than the thoughts you had of him ever since you saw him last.

The skin on your forehead where he had kissed you seemed to burn every time you thought of him. Which was; all the time. You couldn’t get him out of your head. You had never felt this way. This aroused at only the thought of someone. Maybe this had something to do with his powers.

The door behind you opened and you turned around.

“I was hoping you would be here when I finished,” he said as he closed the door behind him. You felt the nervous flutter in your belly as he walked towards you, shedding of his thick coat.

“You send word, so here I am,” you said and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s that easy?” he asked and you knew he was teasing.

“Sometimes,” you teased back with a small smile and he smiled back.

“Will you show me what you made for me?” he asked. You only nodded before you turned from him to walk over to his bed where all the garments were spread out.

“I made two coats, a cloak and some pants for you to wear,” you explained and you felt him behind you, not close enough to touch but to feel his warmth as he leaned over your back, looking down.

“You did all of this in 9 days?” he asked and you nodded.

“I’ve already had some sketches. I don’t get to work with black fabric a lot…”

“They’re beautiful. Let me try them on,” he said as he stepped away to pick up one of the coats. He was standing there in only his pants and dark undershirt and this time you didn’t look away as he put the coat on, running his big hands over the fabric.

“All this measuring seems to have paid off,” he teased as he turned around to look at himself in the mirror. He looked regal. The silver ornaments you had used for the shoulders shimmering in the candle light.

He turned towards you as you looked up at him and you didn’t know why you felt so brave but you reached up to run your fingers over his cheek. He leaned into your touch and stepped closer, his chest touching yours. You didn’t know how long you just looked at each other before he bent down, still giving you time to decline before his lips brushed over yours. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours before he parted from you. You opened your eyes, your lips still tingling as you felt his hands framing your face before he kissed you again. You sighed, getting on your tiptoes to get closer as he kissed you like a dying man. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one of your hands wandering into his hair. His tongue licked over your lips and you parted them for him, moaning against him as his tongue danced with yours. You felt his hands leave your face only for them to run down your back to pick you up. You crossed your legs behind him, clinging to him as he walked towards his bed, sitting down with you in his lap without his lips parting from yours.

You were out of breath, your insides throbbing and feeling a little light headed. He parted from your lips, his forehead resting against your as he brushed his nose against yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you,” he confessed and you couldn’t help but smile. You shifted your weight on his lap, rolling your hips a little as you felt his hardened length beneath you. He groaned, his hands running down your back, grabbing a handful of your ass to push you closer against him.

“Keep doing that and I won’t be able to stop,” he warned. You bit your lower lip, not stopping your movements and he looked at you with hungry eyes.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop, General,” you teased.

“I told you to call me Aleksander,” he groaned, thrusting up and you gasped.

“Make me,” you grinned, shrieking when you found yourself beneath him as he turned you on the bed so you were under him, his eyes dark and dangerous.

“Hands over your head until I say otherwise,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

“Yes General,” you teased and he chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down to kiss you again. You parted your legs to make space for him as he began to kiss down your jaw, kissing down your neck, sucking lightly on the skin of your throat before you felt him undo the laces of the blouse you were wearing, kissing down your collarbone and the top of your breasts. You were breathing hard, anticipating his lips as he pushed your blouse open.

“Beautiful,” he whispered before he softly kissed your breasts, closing his mouth around one of your nipples. You fought the urge to touch him, keeping your hands over your head as you arched your back.

You felt him smile against your skin as his tongue flicked over your nipple making you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out.

“I want to hear you,” he whispered before his lips wandered to your other breast. This time you moaned as he sucked harshly on your nipple. He kissed down your stomach, and you squirmed beneath him as he looked up at you, his eyes asking for permission. You bit your lip, nodding weakly as his finger hooked into your skirt and undergarments, pulling them down your knees, letting them fall to the ground. You were almost completely naked while he was still fully dressed, but you couldn’t bring himself to care. If how he touched you until now was any indication of what was about to come you would gladly stay like this forever.

His eyes seemed to eat you alive, focusing on your glistening cunt as he licked his lips. Only one man had ever gone down on you. Somehow you were sure you wouldn’t even remember the man's name, once the General was finished with you. He got off the bed, taking the coat and his shirt off.

You sighed.

“I really want to touch you,” you confessed.

“Soon, my dove,” he smiled and got down, slowly kissing up your leg. His beard added to the sensation of his lips and you positively lost your mind as he sucked on the skin of your inner thigh, marking you as his.

He teased you, his lips softly running over your folds but not really doing anything. You groaned, looking down at his amused eyes as his tongue dared out, licking one strip through your folds. He moaned at your taste, kissing your cunt before he lightly sucked on your clit.

“Heavens…” you cried out, your fingers buried in the soft covers of his bed as he buried his tongue inside of your cunt, his nose brushing over your clit.

“I want you to cum for me…” he whispered.

His tongue was back on your clit but you felt his fingers at your entrance, slowly pushing two in. You had never felt like this. You cried out when he angled his fingers inside of you, his mouth still sucking, nibbling, driving you insane.

“Come on, cum for me,” he demanded lowly and you came with a cry, your limbs shaking as you rode the wave of pure bliss he had just granted you. Out of breath you closed your eyes, trying to come down from your high when you felt his fingers leave your core. You opened your eyes, only finding him licking off your juices from his fingers and you could cum just from the sight of him again.

“Even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said and you found yourself chuckling, making him smile.

“I think you hit your head down there…” you teased and he rolled his eyes. The man on top of you was so different to how you imagined him to be and you had to be careful not to fall for him.

“I think it’s time for you to fuck me General,” you said biting your lip and he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Still not saying my name. We can’t have that…” he pushed his pants down and you held his gaze until you couldn’t take it anymore and looked down. And you couldn’t hold back the low moan at seeing his already leaking cock, wanting nothing more than to run your tongue over it.

He settled between your legs before you could make any attempt to suck his cock, his arms resting next to either side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You can touch me when you say my name,” he whispered against your lips as you felt him line up and slowly enter you, the stretch of his length making you moan quietly. He watched you, his face above yours. He was moving slowly, biting his lip as he thrusted slowly until his whole length was buried inside of your tight cunt.

“Say it…” he groaned and even though you wanted nothing more than to touch him, you also wanted to tease him some more. Maybe you could even make The Darkling beg for you. A thought that made you clench around him and he cursed.

“You have to do better than that, General,” you grinned and his eyes seemed to darken.

“Careful what you wish for, Dove.”

“Don’t be gentle,” you whispered as you tilted your head up to kiss his lips and he growled, biting into your lower lip as you felt him bottom out to thrust back in. Hard.

“Say it…” he groaned, his head falling down, his lips brushing against your ear and you cried out as he fucked into you. Slow but hard, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. You wanted to touch him, to run your nails down his back, marking him so as yours even though you had no claim on him.

He sucked on your neck, his chest on yours, his weight almost crushing you. You hooked your legs around his behind, wanting him closer.

“Fuck me Aleksander…” you whispered against his ear as your arms came around him, your fingers running down his back and he growled, pumping into you faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You were so close, you didn’t know where you ended and he began.

“I can feel you squeezing me. Cum. Cum for me…” he said lowly, thrusting hard and you shattered around him, your fingers digging into his back as you came. Hard. While he fucked you through your orgasm.

He moaned against your shoulder, his moves getting sloppier until you felt him pull out, his weight leaving yours as he spilled his seed over your stomach, moaning your name lowly. You looked up at him, a work of art as he tried to get his breathing back to normal, his eyes closed. You looked at the mess he made on you, waiting for him to open his eyes as you gathered some of his cum on your fingers, bringing it up to your lips to suck on it.

“Fuck…” he groaned, watching you with dark eyes.

You smiled, sucking on your fingers.

“Already tired, General?” you grinned, shrieking with laughter when he began to tickle you.

#my writing #general kirigan #general kirigan x f!reader #the darkling #shadow and bone #kirigan x f!reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #adult tag

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visenyavires · 3 years

Text

Bleed Not For Death, But For Love

Chapter 2: My First Day

I had spent the remainder of my day after my interaction with Lady Dimitrescu exploring the castle grounds, making an internal map of all the rooms including the Lady’s. I came across the kitchen and found other maids cleaning up for the end of the shift. I met a beautiful Parlour Maid by the name of Elena, who helped me finish my tour after she finished her remaining tasks. After learning the layout of my new home, I returned to my room to turn in for the night when I noticed an envelope sitting below the Lady’s lipstick-stained wine glass I had “forgotten” to take to the kitchen. My breath catches as I see the house sigil pressed into the wax seal. It’s from Lady Dimitrescu.

I wondered if I had done something wrong… already. But other than not returning her wine glass just yet, I couldn’t think of anything. I lift the wine glass off the letter, pick up the aged parchment envelope, and set the glass down, my eyes glued to the deep red seal. I sit down on my chair in front of the fireplace and turn it over to see my name written in beautiful, angled cursive that seemed almost ancient. I carefully peel the wax seal off the body of the envelope, leaving it on the flap, and with a shaky hand, I pull the letter out. I take a deep breath and read the ancient cursive writing slowly:

“Dearest Y/N,

I have some tasks to train you on when dusk falls. Come to my chambers then and we shall get started with your first day. I am very precise about how I wish to have things done.

P.s. You can keep the wine glass if it pains you to part with it.

-Lady Alcina Dimitrescu”

I let out a deep sigh of relief that I’m not in trouble, but I’m also extremely anxious about meeting her first thing tonight. Could she tell I was already feeling some type of infatuation? Did she leave the glass on purpose? Maybe I will be able to tell tomorrow evening during our meeting, but as of right now, I really need to rest. I only have about 6 hours till dusk. I slip into a nightgown I bought myself on the way here. I found it in Italy, it’s made of dark red silk and black ribbon. Something drew me to it, and I could not refuse. I settle down in my bed and fall asleep to the crackling of the dim fire.

……….

I wake up a few hours before dusk to an embroidered canopy, a heavy down comforter, and soft, silk sheets, something I’ve never experienced. The fire has dimmed to embers and there’s a slight chill in the room. I don’t figure I’ll be able to fall back to sleep, so I climb out of bed, stoke the fire, and find my clothes for the day. I find my gown easily, but notice that my apron is a deep red instead of white like the other maids. I wonder if that is due to my position as the Grand Chambermaid. All my uniforms are graciously provided by the Lady of the castle, so I only had to bring a small bag of personal items. I only had a few material possessions from back home, so being in a castle with a maximalist style was very overwhelming.

I go to the kitchen quickly to find something to eat before I begin my shift and notice an older maid in her 70s or so is already preparing food. I notice she, too, is wearing a dark red apron.

“Another early riser,” she says joyfully. “It’s nice to finally have some company at this time of day.”

I give her the friendliest smile I possibly can and introduce myself. “It smells wonderful in here. My name is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Doina. I’m one of the head kitchen maids. If you ever need something to eat, just come see me,” she says with a sweet grin. She seems to love it here, I expect Lady Dimitrescu treats her well.

“I would actually love something to eat. I’ve got to meet our Lady in a couple of hours and I’m so nervous that I’m a bit nauseated,” I say sheepishly. Doina nods her head and walks to the stove and brings me a bowl of porridge back, and it smells lovely.

“This should settle your stomach, dear,” she says with a smile and a pat on my back. I take a few bites and instantly feel my nerves settle. I take a deep breath and smile.

“This is delicious, Doina. Just what I needed. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, dear. The first day is stressful for everyone,” she says with a tone of experience. I wonder if she feeds all the newcomers like this.

Curiosity begins to stir in my mind and I swallow a bite of warm porridge before I ask, “Doina, may I ask what the red aprons are for, you’re the only other one I’ve seen wearing one. I thought maybe it was just for chambermaids but I suppose not.” She sets her spatula down, turns to me, and lowers her voice.

“It’s so that they do not stain when we help her clean up.”

And with that, I knew exactly what she meant. Her role as a cook, mine as her handmaiden, it all makes sense. People told me what the Lady of the castle is when I signed up for the job, but I honestly didn’t believe them at the time. But after seeing her daughters and their ability when I arrived, I’m starting to believe it’s true.

I nodded my understanding and Doina turned back to the stove, her spatula in hand. I finished my breakfast, cleaned my dishes, and went back to my room to straighten up. I decided to pass my remaining time by walking around the castle one more time to really familiarize myself with everything so that whenever I was needed, I could provide. When I finished, I opened a door to the courtyard and noticed it was almost dusk. It’s time to meet the Lady of the castle for my first day of training, and I suddenly wish I had more of that porridge again.

……….

I’m a few minutes early when I open the door to the building where Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers are and walk up the stairs. I hear her voice and my heart begins to race. It sounds like she’s on the phone so I wait till I hear her put it down to knock on the door. I don’t even get to touch the door before I hear her say, “Come in. It’s open.” Her heightened senses impressed me, as I am not a heavy walker.

I open my palm from a knocking fist to push the cracked door open only to reveal her sitting at her vanity. She is applying a fresh coat of crimson lipstick, paying no mind that I’m even here. I lower my head in respect but glance up to watch her finish applying her lipstick. When she returns the cap to her lipstick and rubs her lips together to smooth everything out, I look back down at my feet, waiting for her to finish. I know that she is one to give commands, at least starting out. Then she would expect you to know what to do without a word coming from her mouth.

She turns towards me on her stool, a cigarette now in her hand. She flicks her lighter and the end begins to burn, so she closes the lighter, puts it to the side, closes her eyes, and takes a long drag. She holds it for a moment, then lets it out. She slowly opens her eyes and we make eye contact before she speaks.

“Did you rest well?” she asks softly, tilting her chin up slightly. I nod.

“Yes, my lady, thank you for asking,” I say with a soft smile and a head bow, only breaking away from her pools of gold for a moment. She tilts her head to the side just barely, as if figuring me out. While she’s sitting on her stool, we are at the same eye level.

“Your manners are pleasing. I’ve had many maids who wouldn’t even speak. Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever drawn a bath for someone before?” She asks with a hint of attitude as she arches a brow.

“Yes, my lady, for my parents frequently. How do you prefer your water?” I ask, maybe too boldly.

“I’m glad you asked. Follow me” she says with a grin. She puts out her cigarette and I follow her out of the chamber and down the hall. I figured she would lead me to this room at some point. We enter the Hall of Ablution, where four statues stand around a large bath of blood. Elena showed me that there are towels under a sink that is in the wall, so I figured this was part of her routine.

The Lady only wore a black robe, her raven curls put up with pins. She takes a long inhale and sighs with a smile. With her back turned to me, she looks over her shoulder and lets the robe fall. No warning. I avoid a gasp as I see her… all of her from behind. She smirks and lets out a quiet laugh as she looks away from me and walks straight into the ruby bath. She sits and is covered from the tops of her breasts down in the deep red liquid, leaving her arms to rest on the edge of the bath, and sighs with contentment. I pick up her silk robe from the ground and hold it patiently as she soaks. I expect that she wants silence and I gave her such so she can enjoy herself, but the hall soon echoes with her deep voice.

“Tell me, Draga mea,” she says in an intoxicatingly sweet Romanian accent, “why did you come all this way to be here?” I struggled to find an answer, as all I could wonder was why she was even interested.

“To get away from my family, my Lady. I always promised myself I would leave as soon as I turned 21 when my little sister turned 18 and she could leave. I didn’t want to leave her there by herself,” I stop myself as soon as I realize I’m beginning to overshare.

“And where did she go?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, seemingly interested in new stories and gossip.

“She stayed in Italy after we passed through. She found a good place to stay and was offered a job. I really hope she’s happy there,” I say with a worried smile. She nods as if it’s in approval. She looks to her side and asks, “What do you expect out of your time here?” And turns her head to look back at me, her eyes entrancing. I do my very best to give her a vague answer.

“I want a place to call home, somewhere I belong, a place I can care for, and someone I can devote my loyalty to. That’s all I’ve wanted for a very long time,” I say, attempting to add a sultry hint to my voice, but keeping a serious face. Her crimson lips spread into a small grin and she flicks her wrist towards the cabinet with the very large, red towels. I grab one and hold it out as she stands and walks to the ramp in the tub. I have to force myself not to stare as the ruby liquid drips from her ivory skin, down her hips and legs. For modesty’s sake, I cover the portion of my gaze that would be able to see her, but it seems as if she wouldn’t mind if I hadn’t. I help her wrap up, and she walks me to her bathroom in her chambers where I then run a warm bath for her.

I stand at the head of the tub after she gets in and I remove the pins from her hair. I take a golden brush off the table next to me and brush through her hair. I move slowly, and she seems to prefer that as I hear a soft sigh escape every now and then. I notice dusk is fading, so I wrap up her bath by washing her hair, back, arms, and legs. I leave her to finish while I fetch a warm, white towel.

I meet her back at her vanity where I brush through her hair again and strategically place the curlers while she talks about a meeting she has with the other Lords of the village later in the night and what she expects to be done in the meantime. I lay out her dress, necklace, hat, and gloves for the day.

“Thank you, Y/N. This was the most pleasurable “morning” I’ve had in quite some time.

“Of course, my Lady. I’m glad I was able to meet your standards. Enjoy your meeting, everything shall be prepared for you when you return.” I give a little curtsey and close the doors behind me after locking in on those enchanting, golden eyes and her scarlet grin one last time.

……….

I go about the duties Lady Dimitrescu gave me for the remainder of the night, cleaning her chambers, preparing her nightwear, cleaning her bathroom, making sure everything is in its home. After all my tasks are done, I go back into the kitchen to see Doina wrapping up for the night.

“I left you a plate, dear,” she says kindly and points to a plate of potatoes, squash, and a few pieces of chicken on the side.

“Thank you again, Doina. You’re so kind,” I say, my hungry belly already full of gratitude. Doina hangs a towel up and sits across from me and we converse about the day. I thank her again for the food, clean my dishes, and head towards my chambers to turn in for the night.

Once I close the doors to my room, I kick my shoes off and take my hair down. I sit at my own vanity and brush my hair out before I walk towards the fireplace to stoke it again. Before I reach the fireplace, I see another note with a wax Dimitrescu sigil sitting under the wine glass on my table. I didn’t notice the Lady return home, I hope everything was done to her liking.

I sit and peel the letter open once more, a repeat of last night. Once again, I read the beautiful cursive slowly:

“Draga Mea,

Come to my chambers at 7 am, don’t be late.

-Lady Alcina Dimitrescu”

It’s another chamber summons, but this time, it doesn’t sound like it’s for business… and I only have half an hour to prepare.

***** STAY TUNED, CHAPTER 3 COMING SOON!!! *****

Next: Chapter 3: Devotion, You Shall Have

Previous: Chapter 1: Welcome to Castle Dimitrescu

#alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 fanfic #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 village

95 notes · View notes

junicai · 3 years

Text

too far.

| order no. | 3/21

| summary | With heightened tension reaching a peak, arguments are inevitable. Aria catches the short end of the stick.

| word count | 1.8k

| warnings | cursing (a lot of cursing, please be mindful)

| era | circa. 2016

a/n: mark + aria are still friends! when you're with someone nearly every day, in high stress environments and you're both teenagers - stuff like this just happens, so pls do not think that they hate each other, they don't!

The air felt sticky.

It clung to her skin as she collapsed against the wall, fanning herself.

The other members were in similar states; sweat-soaked t-shirts clinging to their lean bodies, some sitting against the mirrors, or, in Donghyuck’s case, sprawled across the floor.

The choreographer had left three hours prior; coat thrown over his shoulder and bag fisted in his hand. The room had gone silent after he’d left, only broken by Taeyong’s sharp clap and a short yell to get them all into motion again.

It had been a long day, so they’d made more mistakes than usual. It wasn’t one single person; Donghyuck had stumbled over his own feet, Taeil had nearly come a cropper and face planted into the mirrors, even Yuta wasn’t dancing up to scratch.

But, for some reason, Aria felt like all the jabs were being sent her way.

“Aria! Watch that foot!”

“Your left, Aria! Your left!”

“One, two! And a- fuck, Aria! Please, would you at least try!?”

After nearly two hours of this from the choreographer, Aria was fit to scream. She was trying. It was a new routine, miles more difficult than anything they’d ever done before, and it was only their third practice.

She hadn’t slept, and hadn’t eaten yet, it was seven in the evening, and she wanted to go home.

When the tears began pooling in her eyes from sheer exhaustion - both physical and emotional - they were expected, but no less appreciated.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking me - Aria! Are you going to sit there and cry your way out of this? Really? You’re that lazy? You don’t care, do you? No, no you don’t. If you want to cry, you can get out. Go, get out.” The choreographer stood by the music, one finger on the pause button holding it down.

His face was stony. “Oh? No?”

Aria frantically wiped at her eyes, bowing and spewing apologies. “No, no sir. I do care, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m calling it today. Have this for tomorrow, alright?” He sent a glare around the room of boys who wouldn’t meet his eyes. They nodded, and he exhaled, giving Aria one more glance over before marching out the door.

The silence was stifling. It filled up Aria’s mouth with cotton balls.

Taeyong sighed. “Let’s run it again, shall we?”

The first half of the song ran smoothly. It was easy counts, nothing that Aria’d never done already, so she flew through it. Jaehyun stumbled midway, and he got a sharp look from Yuta, who he bumped into in an attempt to right himself, but no words were exchanged and the song didn’t stop.

It wasn’t until the bridge section that things started to go wrong.

Sicheng was in the wrong place; Taeil brushed past him just in time to correct the formations.

Donghyuck’s foot slid out from underneath him; he nearly kissed the floor had it not been for Mark’s hand snagging the back of his jumper and holding him up for long enough to regain his footing.

Aria skidded out of a turn, shoes not gripping the spring flooring and sending her a metre out of her way, and right onto her back where she lay sprawled out, the air knocked from her chest.

The music cut out, and a hand was extended to help her up. She held up her own, and she was roughly tugged up from the ground, a cough leaving her chest at the treatment.

Mark only blinked at her, turning away to get back into formation.

Aria looked at the faces of the other members, confused, but only Yuta would meet her eyes, and he shrugged. “Tired?” He mouthed to her, and she could only nod in presumption.

The song was played again from the beginning, and things started to go wrong from the very get go.

Aria had slipped off her shoes, convinced that maybe the grip was gone from the soles, and she’d dance better in her socked feet. Her theory proved true for the first half minute, but when Sicheng went careening into her side, she was sent crashing into Mark’s back.

The trio of tangled limbs ended up on the floor in a heap.

Sicheng extracted himself from the pile first, having been on the top, and he extended both his hands to Mark and Aria respectively to help them off the floor as well.

Aria took the hand with a mumbled thanks, while Mark chose to ignore it and pushed himself roughly up from the ground.

“Watch where you’re going, Aria.” He clipped her shoulder with his.

Aria stumbled backwards slightly. “O-oh, sorry.”

He sniffed at her, moving back to stand in his position. The song played again, and the pounding of feet against the floor knocked out any thoughts from Aria’s mind.

That was, until her socks slid on the floor, and she crashed down again.

“Aria!” A yell came from the other end of the pyramid shape the team had made. “For fucks sake can you not try for one second?”

“Mark!” Taeyong’s rebuttal was taken aback, the leader staring at the boy with widened eyes.

“No no, don’t Mark, me.” Mark began, marching over to where Aria was still sitting on the floor. “If she’s not going to put a single ounce of effort into this practice, why the fuck is she here?”

Donghyuck started towards the older boy. “Hyung, what-”

He was held back by Johnny holding his elbow. “Mark! Knock it off.”

Mark whirled around. “No! I’m tired, you’re tired, everyone here is tired, but we’re still running the same routine because someone here can’t stand on their own fucking two feet for half a second.”

“Mark what did I do to you!?” Aria spoke up, brushing the non-existent dust from her leggings. “I fell - you fell earlier on and no one blew up on you.”

“Yeah well at least some of us care enough to not try to dance in socks? Socks, really Aria. I know you’re still a child but jesus, have a bit of responsibility for one in your life, huh?”

“The fuck does that mean?” Aria was yelling now.

Taeyong and Jaehyun took a sharp intake of breath. Aria only swore when she was pissed and given how her face had reddened dramatically and the cruel glint that her eyes had undertaken, they were both nearly convinced that if Mark was to swing, she’d snap his arm in half.

“Woah, woah. Mark, take a walk.” Yuta snapped, moving to stand in between the two younger members. Aria’s hands had started trembling, but her face was cold.

“Maybe Aria here should take a walk. Go find the door and leave. Isn’t that what our choreographer told you to do? Get out? I think you should listen to him.”

“You have no fucking right saying that shit to me,” Aria snarled.

Mark laughed, a cruel, cold sound. “Oh really? Did I hit a nerve, princess? The princess of NCT, such a shame she can’t dance to save a life. Should we put out a stool for you, so you can sit and look pretty for us?”

“Hey!” Taeyong yelled, pulling Mark away. “Cool it. Yuta’s right, take a walk.” He pushed the younger boy towards the door, but Mark just walked right back to Aria.

“You know, if you’re not going to fucking care, then you can get out.”

Donghyuck appeared behind Mark, tugging at his hand. “Hyung, seriously.”

“No I’m serious!” Mark whirled around to face the other members. They were quiet - normally when arguments broke out, it was best to leave them run their course. Interference usually ended up with a bloody nose; but Aria had never been the centre of one before.

“Fucking mistake, putting a girl in a boy group.” He spit.

Aria scoffed, a disbelieving smile on her face. Yuta stepped back slightly.

Aria wasn’t scary; she was small and cute and lovely, everything that made it impossible to be even slightly intimidating. But, now, with a sharp up-tweak on the corner of her lips, Aria looked murderous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mr. All Star, is having a woman in the group affecting your precious masculinity? That a woman can out dance you, can out sing you?” She spat, hands balling by her sides.

It was Mark’s turn to scoff, rolling his eyes. “Please, Aria, you’re not a woman. You’re barely a child.”

“You’re one year older than me, asshole.”

Taeyong moved towards the pair. “Guys, take a walk. I don’t want to hear it right now.”

He went ignored.

“And yet,” Mark sniggered. “I don’t look like a pubescent teen. At least people can tell how old I am.”

Aria’s mouth snapped shut. Taeyong hissed Mark’s name, physically yanking the boy away from her. A stagnant pause bubbled up in the room, taking the place of the heated yelling.

“Oh you fucking dick, Mark Lee.” Aria strode towards him, pushing at his chest.

Mark spun, anger clouding his vision, swinging his arm and clipping her across the neck. Aria went sprawling, hand coming behind her to catch her fall.

When her weight landed on her wrist, it twisted beneath her, and she let out a gasp. Yuta was beside her in an instant, as was Donghyuck.

Taeyong now had a firm grip on the back of Mark’s neck, and Jaehyun was holding his wrists tight in a fist.

Taeil took one look at the darkening red around Aria’s wrist, and left the room, presumably to grab an ice-pack. Sprains were a common injury - he hoped it wasn’t something more serious.

Despite the tears now pooling in Aria’s eyes, her mouth was filled with fire as she fixed her heavy gaze on Mark - who’s own eyes were slowly clearing from the fog of anger, and a guilt-ridden line was taking its place.

“Get your head out of your own ass, Mark. You're not a saint, stop acting like one.”

The door swung shut behind her; a wet sniffle breaking into a choked sob before being cut off.

Mark slid to the ground, back against the wall, hands in his hair.

When the tears fell, no one made a sound.

249 notes · View notes

xenia-cenia · 3 years

Text

Diluc X Fem!Reader - My Hero

Trigger/Content Warnings: Violence, fighting, kidnapping, drugging

Word count: 1,657

Request: No

Summary: You always thought between the two of you, Diluc would be the one who needed protection. How wrong you were.

-------------------------------------------

You were an enigma.

Not a Vision in your possession, yet not a single knight could beat you in combat. You didn’t use gifts from the gods to strike fear into your enemies, you need only smile and watch them shake in the knees.

Maybe that’s why Diluc fell in love with you.

He would watch your confidence as you twirled the dull sword in your hands, your Visioned opponent nervously laughing. Within moments, they would be on the ground and you’d be kneeling over them offering a hand to help them stand.

Diluc watched from afar as you taught Ellin how to wield a sword or how you charged into battle with thrill gleaming in your eyes. After every battle or long day, you’d walk into Dawn Winery and smile. A genuine smile, a smile Diluc wasn’t quite used to.

“Water again?” He’d chuckle as you sat and sigh heavily, setting down the glass he was cleaning.

“Yes, please.”

“What was it today?” Diluc poured the water and handed it to you.

“5 hilichurl camps, 2 abyss mages, 6 ruin guards.” You spoke after finishing the drink in one go.

“We always have a spare room for you at the manor.” He looked at your exhausted form and quickly turned around to conceal the concern that he knew was beginning to scar his expression.

“Careful, Luc, you might give off the wrong idea.” You wiped the water from your lips and sat your head onto the bar.

Diluc turned around and smiled gingerly as you stifled a yawn, “I can call for a carriage. I believe your room is already cleaned, Adelinde should have drawn a bath by now.”

Within minutes you had succumbed to sleep, Diluc took his coat off and draped it over your shoulders, and told every patron of the bar to go home, they were closing early. After their initial protests, the drunks stumbled away. Diluc waited for the door to shut before he sat on the stool next to yours and slightly lifted your head to put his arm under - he didn’t want the Hero of Mondstadt to wake up with a sore neck after all.

Even after his arm grew tired, he stayed put. Diluc eventually felt his eyes fall shut and his head drooped.

Outside, the sounds of a stopping carriage came into earshot. There were 3 harsh knocks on the door, Diluc stirred but even the loud knocks weren’t enough to wake him.

The door slowly creaked open, soft voices filled the room. Two sets of footsteps echoed and stopped right in front of Diluc.

“...him?”

“We can’t have witnesses.”

Dilucs eyes opened as he felt a soft finger pull his lips open, he felt a warm liquid slip down his throat, he tried to look at his attackers but his vision was blurry. He tried to stand and swing at his attackers but instead collapsed on the ground.

He watched in fear as they roughly gripped your face and poured the remnants of the liquid down your throat. From the floor, Diluc raised his hand in protest as they dragged you from the bar before his vision blinked and faded.

You didn’t know where you were or why you were there.

It was dark, you could hear talking, and the rough bouncing of what you’re pretty sure is a carriage quickly made you nauseous. You tried to look at your surroundings, but all you caught was a glimpse of orange hair before you fell unconscious once more.

When you had really woken up, your hands were tied behind your back and were tied to something freezing and your throat burned. Cold air brushed against your face and you were sitting on wet ground.

A pale finger tilted your head up, a light gray eye met yours. “Oh? Are you awake?”

“Wha...?” You tried to speak but your voice was hoarse.

The woman smiled coldly at you, “Hush, now. You need only listen.”

You looked around and saw an orange-haired man absentmindedly plucking at the string of a bow. You were somewhere dark, the only light was from the quickly dimming torches on the walls, the air was moist and uncomfortable.

Where were you? Where was Diluc? What happened?

“Do you know what a Vision is?” The woman cut herself off with a small laugh, “Oh, of course you do, Hero of Mondstadt. Visionless Goddess of the people.”

“Goddess?” The orange-haired man stifled a laugh.

“Childe.”

“Ah, sorry, sorry.” He raised his hands in defeat, a smile still sitting on his lips.

You looked between the two people, “W-Who are you?”

They exchanged looks before the woman kneeled before you and smiled, “Dawn Winery.”

“W...”

“Dawn Winery holds the true power in Mondstadt. Their god is a drunken fool; their people bow to the pleasure. And you?” She grabbed your cheeks and turned your head left and right, “You, my dear, are the weakness. Diluc Ragnvindr is to blame for what is to come. You became the only option we can exploit, his only blind spot.”

The orange-haired man stood and walked towards you with long, confident steps, a spear of water materializing in his hands, “So, you can’t get mad at me for doing my job.”

When Dilucs eyes opened he was lying in a bed.

He could smell dust and bandages. Hushed whispers hurried footsteps and distant prayers rang in his ears.

He sat up, wincing at the burning pain in his chest, and tried to sort his thoughts out. “A... Adelinde?” He called.

Each voice fell silent and before he could even process what happened he was surrounded by nuns who overwhelmed him with their concerns. Diluc grit his teeth and pushed himself out of the hospital bed, despite the nun's protests.

“Master Diluc, you can’t-”

“(Y/N).”

“What?”

“Where is she?” Diluc stumbled out of the room, checking every bed for his lover. A blonde-haired nun with pigtails lightly grabbed his arm and smiled pleasantly at him.

“Please go back to bed. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Diluc shoved her off of him and tried to contain the fear inside of him, “Where is she? What happened to me?”

The nuns exchanged uncomfortable looks before a quiet voice in the back piped up, “We don’t know.”

Dilucs eyes widened. Emotions and memories collided inside of the boy, he took a step backward and tried to ignore the reality that stared him in the eyes.

The reality where you were gone.

He ran out of the church, barely feeling the pain that had knocked him out a few mere hours ago, and straight into his bar. Patrons whispered rumors of the missing Hero, shooting glances to Dilucs coat that was folded on the edge of the bar, but that all ceased as the door slammed open and the red-haired owner stood in the doorway panting.

“Master Diluc!” The bartender exclaimed. Diluc ignored them and stepped forward, grabbing his coat off the counter and adjusting the cuffs before he left without a word.

4 hours.

4 hours was all it took for Diluc to change his clothes, ready his weapon and find you. He broke into the cave where all of his sources pointed too, and charged in; fire in his eyes.

Few get to see Diluc truly angry. Even fewer get to see Diluc cry. The three people waiting for him inside got to see both.

He couldn’t stop the tears from boiling in his eyes as he saw you trembling, blood covering your body, and the way your eyes met his and he got to see something he thought the Hero of Mondstadt never felt: fear.

“Run.” You had spoken with dry lips and stained eyes. “Run.”

And just like that, the torches on the wall exhausted themselves.

You tried to see what happened during the fight but could only see through the flickers of flame that roared off Dilucs blade that occasionally bit through the darkness.

Yelling, blades clashing and the smell of blood. Once upon a time this invigorated you, caused you to leap into bursts of adrenaline and action. With only your life on the line, you felt battle was the only place you could feel free.

Flames licked the cave walls and evaporated your tears the moment they spilled over; you were terrified. How would you explain to Kaeya or the knights if Diluc gets hurt?

How could the Hero of Mondstadt herself fall short? How could she sit idly by as a victim as a battle rages in front of her?

You could never forgive yourself, you decided.

“STOP!” You screamed, “Please! Don’t hurt him!”

“(Y/N)... open your eyes.”

You gasped and looked up as a gloved hand lightly held your cheek, you were never happier to see Dilucs kind gaze.

“Diluc,” you leaned into his grasp, “W-what happened?”

Diluc held his ablaze sword and showed off the empty room, “I’m not really sure. They both just... disappeared.”

You smiled as much as you could, “T...thank you.”

He walked around the piece of rock you were tied to and undid the knot, “Let’s just get you home.”

“Home...” you repeated, “home sounds nice.”

Diluc slowly picked you up, and felt his body heat up as you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, he quietly walked out of the cave and made a silent vow to himself.

For as long as he lives, he’ll always be there to wipe the tears off your cheeks or mend your wounds.

Diluc wiped a stray strand of hair out of your eyes and thought about your kidnappers. Surely, they attacked this way on purpose. They waited for a moment of weakness and caused a greater divide because they knew how formidable a foe you were.

Diluc smiled to himself. His lover was second to none in combat; she wore scars like a badge of honor.

She truly was his hero.

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