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casualmovies · 6 months

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Drag Me To Hell (2009)

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Have you ever wanted to see what a story created by 10 year olds at recess would look like if it was produced with a $30Mil budget? Now imagine they were doing this immediately after getting caught with an "occult" book (aka something from Barnes and Noble's occult section) that they only managed to glimpse a few pages. And they're hyped up on too much sugar and no one can remember the character they've chosen to play.

If that sounds fun for you, boy do I have the movie to suggest to you!

Usually in horror characters who are supposed to be punished show a real reason for doing so. Even if they're just sort of an asshole and ignore blatant warnings. Or they pick up a book made of human skin and start reading aloud. Alternatively, they're just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Neither of those happen to our protagonist, Chrstine Brown.

When we meet Christine, she is trying to get a promotion at her job as a loan officer in a bank. Her manager tells her it comes down to her and Stu, the new guy. The mysogyny vibes are pretty strong from the outset, and she's a bit of a doormat, but trying her best. The manager tells her to take an early lunch so she can get him a sandwhich on her way back. Remember, she's a loan manager, not a secretary. Stu then walks in like he's got some power around there and says she should get him one, too. And she just does it. To which Stu demeans her after the fact, saying he asked for no mayo and acts like it's her fault (he'd never said no mayo). So it seems that the manager might and Stu might be in cahoots and they're just humoring the pretty girl who thinks she can hang with The Boys.

That's when we meet Sylvia Ganush. I can't recall if they the directly specify she's Romani, but they lean hard on the vague eastern european old woman tropes, making her out to be super gross. Doing stuff like putting her slimy dentures on Christine's desk. The reason Sylvia is there is to ask for an extension on her mortgage for the third time, using her poor health to tug on Christine's heart strings. Christine goes to her manager, trying to get the woman an extension despite her having used up two already. The manager tells her it's "her choice" and she has to be willing to make the difficult decisions.

You'd think this would be where Christine turns into a total bitch and gets mean with the woman. Something worthy of what happens to her. But instead she's as gentle as she can be while denying the woman the extension. She even tries to help the woman find alternative options. And the old woman completely loses it, making a scene and crawling on the floor, forcing Christine to call for security to have the woman removed from the bank.

And that's what does it. The old woman is on her knees, flanked by security, looking up and Christine she hisses "You shame me?!" So it wasn't the denial, it was the public embarassment of not being allowed to throw a fit in public.

The actual curse comes later when Christine is leaving work and Sylvia is waiting in her car. The fight is pretty ridiculous, but the real topper is Sylvia tearing a button off Christine's coat and issuing a curse involving "Lamia." Then she gives the button back.

With a name like Lamia, you'd expect some sort of snake creature, right? Cause that's what the Lamia is. A bad ass half snake half woman monster. A female demon sent by one woman after another? That'd be cool as hell. Plus an excuse for one of horror movies' favorite tropes: an excuse to show tits. Maybe we'd get some cool visuals of a giant snake creature slithering through the walls of Christine's house? Snakes pouring out of the faucet?

Wrong! Goats. According to movie lore "Lamia" is also known as "The Black Goat". Somehow inspired by Baphoment? At least that's what I saw when I was double checking my memory on what the Lamia was supposed to be and making sure there were no ties to goats I didn't understand.

The rest of the movie is borderline incomprehsible and meaningless. But one detail to know is that the curse is supposed to last for only 3 days before Lamia Goat Man physically drags the person to hell.

The manager at the bank keeps flip-flopping his personality. One moment he's in Christine's corner and the next he's treating her like crap. Not in a toxic abusive manager sort of way, unless they forgot to include any indication of how he behaved was meant to be misleading. At one point Christine gets a nosebleed so bad it turns into a fountain and ends up spraying the manager with blood. Then he acts like it was some party trick she could do and he was not a fan.

There's a short sub plot involving some big account that Christine landed for the bank, though it only exists as a vague file and people talking about it. Stu decides to take the file off Christine's desk and sneaks off to another bank and somehow gets them to take the account instead. Literally over night. I'm no banking expert, but when working with large clients for money management, I highly doubt you can just take a bunch of someone else's documents to a bank you don't work at and get them to take over an account that was still in the works. Without the sign off anyone actually involved.

Eventually, Christine finds out that if she gets someone else to take ownership of the button that gave her the curse, she can pass the curse on to them. She calls Stu to say "I know it was you" about taking the file to another bank. Stu shows up in a wild panic, practically sobbing and begging her not to tell. For some reason she decides to not give him the button and tells him to leave. Once again, there's no sign that he's doing it to manipulate her and it's the last we see of him. The following day, the manager calls Christine to say that Stu showed up at his house trying to pin the whole fiasco with the account on Christine. And the manager, who's treated Stu like his best pal and Christine like crap says "And ya know what, his story just didn't make sense. So I kept asking him questions so I knew it was him and not you."

Now, how did Christine know about giving the button to someone else? A psychic, of course. Complete with vague middle eastern mystic vibes. He's her guide and the one who tells her what's going on and who's after her.

She tries to give the button back to the old woman who cursed her. The woman's granddaughter (who's about Christine's age) is all cryptic saying she knows just who Christine is and that she's getting everything she deserves. Because being trapped in a capitalistic society and dealing with misogynistic bullshit is a crime worth being tortured and dragged to hell. Well, the old woman actually died. So Christine walks in on a wake for the woman and the house is full of boisterous people. They were supposed to be Romani, but I don't know the culture well enough to say whether they were accurately depicted.

Bummer the woman's dead, so she can't be given the button. Or can she? Because there's some tradition of gifting to the dead! And Christine decides to do it her own why by digging up the old woman's grave. Remember, this all takes place over the span of 3 days. In that time, the woman died, an elaborate wake was arranged and attended, a funeral was (presumably) arranged and held, and the woman was fully put in the ground. And Christine was able to find an unearth her grave in a matter of hours. The movie takes place in LA.

Way back at the beginning of the movie (during the lunch break with the sandwich buying) Christine stopped by to visit her boyfriend and give him some special coin she found because in theory he collects those. He puts it into a plain white envelope and it's basically forgotten about after that. But you see, this was Chekov's coin envelope! You know what is flat and round but otherwise nothing like a coin? A button. Which is also put into a white envelope for reasons I don't think anyone considered other than Plot Convenience.

There's a convenient mixup where a bunch of papers get dropped all over the floor of the car and chaos ensues. Then a wild scene of Christine fighting with the dead body of the old woman in a rapidly flooding grave. Never once is there any hesitation or checking to make sure it's the right envelope, or that there's even anything in the envelope. Just failing around in the rain with it and trying to give it to the old woman's dead body.

Surprise it was the coin all along. Revealed by the boyfriend in the final scene. It scares Christine so bad that she walks backwards of the platform edge onto the train tracks where the boyfriend gets to see the ground open up and swallow her into hell. The End.

I know Sam Raimi is supposed to worshiped or whatever, but stories like this is are why editors are necessary. It felt like they started with the initial concept of a young, well meaning woman being cursed by an evil old woman for reasons convenient to the old woman. It's a decent concept that could have served as commentary on boomers versus millennials. But they just kept tacking things on and had to come up with reasons it wouldn't work after the fact. And they couldn't decide of the old woman was supposed to be sympathetic or evil.

The story was generally presented as a serious horror movie, but the scenes with the old woman had the absurdity of the Evil Dead series. It felt like it started as a movie meant to be as serious and intense as something like The Collector, but asked a 12 year old for feedback and included every suggestion without question.

As for the initial motives that spark the curse, Sam Raimi apparently said "We just wanted to tell the story of a person who wants to be a good person but who makes a sinful choice out of greed, for their own benefit, and pays the price for it." But the choice Christine has to make is never portrayed as properly "sinful" or "greedy." Had she been mean to Sylvia our denied her outright without even trying, sure. To better portray Christine as sinful or greedy, only a few tweaks would need to be made. First, make Sylvia less gross. At least don't put her freaking dentures on Christine's desk. Have it be her very first request for an extension. A desperate last minute plea. The bank had refused to even speak to her until then and the deadline was end of business that day. Have Christine remember, on her own, that she was told to make tough choices to get the promotion. Then be at least harsh if not outright cruel in denying Sylvia the extension. Insult the woman somehow, then have her dragged out by security for a minor transgression rather than making a whole scene and terrifying Christine. Watch the video at the top of this post and tell me that Christine is the evil one.

Basically, Christine needed to be more of a bitch for the intended theme to work. Like, sure, she willingly killed her cat in an attempt to get rid of the curse, but she was getting desperate by that point.

Ultimately, the movie was tonally confused. There could have been some "you'll only get it if you're watching closely" moments, but the movie could have been littered with them on every frame and it wouldn't be enough to redeem the plot of this bizarre movie.

Seriously, who names something Lamia and makes it a goat demon? You could have had a bad ass snake lady!

#Drag Me To Hell #movie review #casual movie review #Youtube

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warm-starlight · 2 years

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So I saw these comment the other day on a post. what non shippers think about eruri

A:" It's sad how some people sexualize their beautiful companionship, yet it's ironic that they think Levi is that shallow to respect and trust someone's judgment and follow their lead till the end just because he has romantic feelings for them." 164 LIKE

"till now i have no idea that someone actually thinks that way.😂"

"100% agree! I hate shippers tbh"

"and it's amazing that you think romantic relationships are all about sexualization and don't have any respects and trusts in between them 🙂👍"

A:"You know what is even more amazing is that you are so narrow-minded to get my point, however, this is funny bc their FB group doesn't say the same, it's literally filled with sexual content and I don't know why but gay ship always turns to girls sexual desire for yaoi. You are the ones who don't understand love. I recommend them to read more BL novels instead of toxic manga(fan art), maybe then they can stop seeing BL that way."

E:"tbh i don't remember seeing many eruri shippers who thought about them this way, from what i've noticed they usually appreciate the deep mutual respect, trust and understanding between erwin and levi along with levi's devotion for erwin, the point is that such relationships often go with romantic feelings but not like childhood crush type beat, it's more about true mature love and closeness which old couples have developed with time, sex and romantic attraction is additional here but i don't think it ruins the whole image at all, not to mention that romantic (not sexual) interest might come with admiring someone's personality, attitude, ideals and basically them as human and you can obviously tell levi does admire erwin much, it doesn't necessarily mean he must adore him and have fallen for him but there's nothing wrong with thinking that he could"

A:"Believe me, most of them are, and I would never interpret a topic without being sure of my information (you can check their FB group if you want or pixiv art ). Still, it's not my point.

Yes you are right, “true mature love and closeness which old couples have developed with time”, I loove these kind of relations. Although this has nothing to do with Erwin and levi.

First Isayama-sensei didn’t make their relation to be seen as romance, as we can clearly tell the romance between eren and mikasa/ yumir and historia(…the canon ship as well ), nonetheless, he always referred to Erwin as a good friend for Levi (the guide book ), he didn’t implicate romance between them, as proof, most of aot watchers “out of the shipping community” didn’t see them romantically I can tell from myself as I was surprised when I first saw the ship and so were my friends (even the comment below support my idea).

Even so, we ignore these facts and consider “Their deep mutual respect, trust, understanding for each other and levi devotion for Erwin” it doesn’t require romantic love, and I dislike how romance is the first idea that bumps into shipper’s heads. Yes, levi admired Erwin so much in a way like what you said “admiring someone's personality, attitude, ideas and them as human” but you don’t realize the key difference between love and admiration, while love focuses on affection, admiration focuses on respect and approval.

Basically, true companions like erwin and levi had already shared and experienced everything, taking their relation to a romantic level means adding sexual affection, cause you can’t deny it but the difference between any type of love and romantic love is sexual attraction and passion,- don’t misunderstand me I believe sex activities are pretty normal for couples who chose to be in romantic ship-, but what I don’t get is why, why do the shipper insist on crossing the lines when their relation is already that beautiful why they cannot just “appreciate it ”like you said the way it is, that only means that they’re not mature enough to understand relations and they tend to sexualize everything. They need to understand that appreciating a relation doesn’t essentially mean that you like it in romantic terms.

Attack on Titan may not be a whole feelings and relations lessons type of anime but Isayama-sensei did surely succeeded to represent the most beautiful bond in the whole aot anime, for me, Levi and Erwin relation is the deepest and pure tie I’ve ever seen and I can’t stop and which to have one alike, so why do we sexualize it and be so blind to unsee the true meaning behind. And that’s the difference between our visions. It takes a certain level of maturity and experiences to understand what truly relations are about so they can stop confusing terms.

This is just my opinion and shipping is okay unless it’s legal and they’re not trying to make it canon when it’s not, and I usually never talk about these topics in their area I just ignore it but science it’s not a shipping post I’m setting myself free.

Ahh the joy of writing is irreplaceable. This was good practice for my coming English test. Thank you for that. It was nice interacting with you❤.

I'm sorry for the long ask but this person just is amazing I like their way of seeing things. This just resumed my whole impression and thoughts about eruri.

This same thing applies to all shippers tbh, immediately shoving romance whenever there is some type of bond present).

I also disagree that romantic love requires sexual relationship. You can certainly have sex without any intention of romance and romance without any sex.

#snk #aot #anonymous #ship wars

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unhingedwomandiaries · 3 days

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Another day, another tragedy. Today's burnt offering to chaos comes courtesy of Owassa, Oklahoma, where a transgender kid named Nex was bullied into an early grave. The specific details are murky (if not outright conspiratorial), but the broad outline is painfully clear: Kid gets harassed by small-minded jerks. Kid retaliates. Kid gets suspended. Kid sees no exit from an unlivable reality. Kid checks out. And we're left to pick through the ashen remains of a life that needn't have been sacrificed to the great volcanic maw of rural ignorance.

I can sadly relate to the hopelessness of being bullied as a kid. When I was 9 years old, some girl punched me in the eye during a fire drill just because she thought my curly hair made me look ugly. The teachers saw it, my classmates saw it, and nobody did a damn thing besides a half-hearted "stop it." My parents tried taking it to the administration and were stonewalled. The bullying only escalated from there - the cruel taunts over AOL Messenger in middle school, the relentless mocking about my awkward appearance. By 12 years old I had a suicide plan hatched, seeing no way out of the torment. Even asking to be homeschooled was denied by my own mother, who incredibly rationalized that "bullies are everywhere, just deal with it." Yeah, great advice.

So I know the feeling of wanting to just exit this reality altogether, to preemptively abandon a cruel existence that doesn't seem destined to improve. The self-hatred bullying breeds is a toxin. I'm grateful I hung on, but also still deeply angry at the cyclical abuse society allows under the guise of kids just "being kids." This normalization needs to end.

Which brings me back to poor Nex. What's the ultimate difference between homicide and suicide here? The semantics don't change the underlying truth: This kid was bullied to death. Whether the final blow came from an assailant or the victim's own hand is almost irrelevant—Nex died because small people have big fears, and they expressed those fears through cruelty. The school failed by suspending Nex instead of the perpetrators. The town failed by harboring the sort of anti-difference hatred that crushes gentle souls. Nex's parents failed by being unable to create a safe space. And we all fail when incidents like this just become think-pieces instead of catalysts for actual change.

This isn't a new story, sadly. It's the same tired tale conservatives love to ignore until it lands on their doorstep, then sweep under the rug with half-truths about psychoactive drugs and mental illness. The same culture war garbage that gets trotted out whenever reality inconveniences the regressive agenda. I can't muster much more energy than an exhausted sigh.

But here's the important part, penned directly to any LGBTQ+ youths who might find my diary: It gets better. Being a teenager is a temporarily horrific condition, but it won't last forever. The high school hellscape will eventually give way to a bigger world where you get to surround yourself with people who embrace your uniqueness. Everything feels terminal when you're young, but human existence is startlingly malleable. The alluring permanence of the grave ends up being the ultimate impermanence. You've got to hang in there and pursue the chance to build a life where rubbing others the wrong way isn't punished by ritualized torment.

It's tragic that Nex never got that opportunity. But we'd multiply the tragedy by allowing the next gender-nonconforming kid to meet the same fate. Maybe next time it'll be different. But today is just another day of profound disappointment in my fellow humans.

#nex benedict #diary #news

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tsunderedoctor · 2 years

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Hi there, purple. I was wondering if I could make an emergency request? Normally I just ignore all my own issues because I feel like I'll cause trouble for the people around me— I know it's not healthy, but it's what I've always done. I bottle up all the stress and bad feelings and behave as if everything's okay. Lately though I've had a harder time keeping my emotions in check, and I recently broke down crying because of how mentally tired I am. Is there any chance you'd consider writing Law, Zoro, Benn or Smoker comforting someone suddenly breaking down like that? Whoever you choose is okay.

It's totally fine to cry sometimes, always remember that. We can't always be what society calls strong and sometimes crying makes us stronger. Always know you are strong and things will get better, maybe not today, but one day!❤️❤️

He’s the same way when it comes to emotions. Law loves to bottle his emotions and not open up to others. However, our lovely Heart Captain is a hypocrite and gets annoyed when others (especially you) do the same.

He wants you to rely on him, no matter how little the issue is. It’s his way of controlling things and it helps his own anxiety. Can’t worry about the unknown if you are already in control of it! It’s rather unhealthy, but he’s a doctor, so trust him.

Law wouldn’t deny the fact he’s relieved to see you finally cry. Not that he wants you to, but it lets him be relied on and be the strong one in the relationship. He sadly sucks when it comes to comforting though. He will do his best to hug you and be there for you as a shoulder to cry on, but when it comes to actual words, he freezes.

“It will be okay.” Is his go to, because he knows eventually it will, just not right now.

Zoro is quite similar to Law when it comes to bottling up his emotions. He’s the type who would rather work out his frustrations than talk about it. So when he knows you’re upset, he will suggest a good spare to get out those feelings.

He also isn’t the best when it comes to comfort. He gets embarrassed when touch is involved. As much as he can pretends to be cocky, once your head is pressed against his chest, his cheeks get red and his brain short circuits. He starts to think he’s like the damned cook and it annoys him.

When he sees you cry though, he tends to freeze up. Something inside him shifts and he hates seeing you cry. He gets upset with himself and just wants to fix the issue as quick as he can. No matter how he might feel about the situation, he will do his best to be there for you!

“Um, do you want a hug?” Expect a blushing face while he refuses to face you.

Benn is probably the best to go to when it comes to comfort. he puts up with a lot and is mature when it comes to emotional regulation. He’s the one who knows right away when something is bothering you, even from the smallest low level cue.

He doesn’t mean to lecture, but he puts up with quite a childish crew, so expect him to treat you as one of those kids too. It only means he loves you and wants what is best for you! It’s how he shows his love!

Is the type to suggest solutions to your problems, he’s a problem solver and a right hand man, it’s just what he does! Kind of acts like a father figure and it can be a bit odd, he just radiates that kind of energy.

“I understand you are upset, so let’s try this instead.” Tries to empathize with you and understand your point of view. You can thank Shanks for that.

Smoker is similar to Zoro, he will suggest you get out your frustrations with exercise or other hobbies. He’s not the best when it comes to talking about your feelings as he can be a bit rough. He tries to be understanding, but his resting bitch face makes it seem he’s annoyed.

He tries to be understanding, but part of him is also like “man up” due to his military background and rough childhood. he knows that it’s okay to cry, but he was forced into that thought process that crying is for the weak, even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

Asks Tashigi for help if it really comes down to it. He trusts her more softer nature for advice on more sensitive things. If she can’t find a solution, he doubts anyone can.

“I’m here for you...” Looks a bit constipated, but he is doing his best!!

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

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The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

Check out my other work here

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You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered.

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued.

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander.

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.”

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do.

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.”

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind.

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.”

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect.

“Of course, General. What is it?”

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).”

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show.

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out.

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him.

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo.

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him.

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.”

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say.

“That makes sense”, he finally said.

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier.

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers.

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan.

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested.

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings.

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.”

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead.

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time.

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager.

“Will do, Commander.”

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front.

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin.

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him.

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile.

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation.

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself.

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked.

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee.

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human.

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit.

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?”

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you.

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.”

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down.

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.”

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety.

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.”

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private.

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips.

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.”

The Gonchee at the front nodded.

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour.

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called.

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled.

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did.

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.”

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way.

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.”

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous.

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.”

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit.

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.”

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely.

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.”

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry.

“Sounds reasonable.”

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe.

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless.

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.”

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”.

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable.

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately.

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself.

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire.

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature.

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up.

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better.

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now.

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin.

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.”

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed.

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his.

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position.

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked.

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again.

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that.

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice.

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress?

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.”

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men.

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge.

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting?

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation.

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?”

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.”

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint.

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”.

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent.

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up.

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.”

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi.

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way”

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him.

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.”

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned.

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table.

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but.

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you.

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.”

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second.

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee.

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more.

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?”

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur!

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.”

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend.

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe.

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone.

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you.

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.”

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest.

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.”

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again.

“There’s only one bed.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself.

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?”

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed.

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.”

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.”

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him.

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover.

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state.

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence.

Now he had no choice but to answer.

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends.

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.”

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say.

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued.

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible.

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded.

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe.

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso.

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe.

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process.

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night.

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee.

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious.

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered.

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain.

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds.

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you.

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face.

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.”

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away?

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him.

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe.

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone.

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard.

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care.

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress.

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together.

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher.

“What does it look like? I’m changing.”

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him.

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?”

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless.

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.”

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.”

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again.

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to.

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!”

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours.

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream.

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did.

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder.

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours.

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted.

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes.

“What is it, mesh’la?”

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him.

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously.

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth.

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.”

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face.

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one.

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder.

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?”

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head.

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.”

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist.

“I think they already believe us, cyare.”

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut.

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while.

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper.

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled.

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.”

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then.

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.”

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all.

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

#wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe imagine #wolffe imagine

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captains-simp · 3 years

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hello i love your work!! can you do a part 2 to worth our time? :”) maybe wherein carol is actually getting soft for the reader and wants to be together but the reader is hesitant bc of carol being known as a player? maybe some jealous carol as well? 😳😳

Soft!jock!Carol is a god tier idea and I really hope I did it justice

Shout out to @wlwmarvelenthusiast for helping me with my technical difficulties

Part 1

7.5k words

Warnings: oral, praise and double ended dildo use

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

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"Why are you ignoring Carol?" Wanda asked with a frown as you sped out of the school car park a little too hastily. She narrowed her eyes at you, ready to read into every expression that flickered across your face.

"I'm not ignoring her, I'm avoiding her. It's different." You insisted as you kept your eyes on the road in front of you, determined to leave the school grounds before a certain blonde left the building and got into her own car.

"It's exactly the same thing just in a different font." Wanda stated as she continued to watch you.

"It's not. And anyway, I'm not obligated to talk to her." You said quieter, not finding enough confidence in your words. Of course you weren't obligated to talk to Carol, but you missed it - more than you would admit to yourself.

"I know, I thought you liked her though. You said your date went well with her but since then you run out of every room she enters."

"It wasn't really a date." You muttered as took a left and eyed your mirror.

"Y/n." Wanda laughed. "I think I know a date when it's described to me."

"But it's Carol, Wanda. Carol doesn't do dates." You insisted as you tried your hardest to avoid your friend's gaze again. You didn't want her to see the pain in your eyes.

"She did with you."

"She went down on me-"

"Yes, I remember that catch up conversation." Wanda chuckled and you threw an empty sweet packet you had left in the car at her.

"And I'm not complaining about that. It's just... you know I'm not one to judge people by rumors, but Carol seems like a pretty strict 'hookups only' type of gal. Every time me and Carol are alone together we end up fucking and again, I'm not complaining about that, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't want anything more from me. Not even fuck buddies, because she doesn't commit to girls." You breathed out deeply as you parked up outside yours and Wanda's favourite coffee shop, suddenly not able to tell if you weren't in the mood for your hot chocolate or in desperate need of one.

"I think there might be a little more to it than that." Wanda said after a moment. She knew where you were coming from but she also couldn't deny the fidgety nature and anxious look in the blonde's eyes a few days prior.

"She called it a date last time you were together, she hasn't done that before. She was worried when you were sick and she's only ever worried when her teammates are sick."

"She wasn't worried." You rolled your eyes lightly and managed a small smile at Wanda.

"Oh she definitely was."

You groaned when you heard your phone vibrate on your bedside table. You rolled over begrudgingly, only bothering to check it because you knew it was lunch break at school and it might have been Wanda sending you the class notes you had asked for.

Unknown number: when I saw you weren't in class I assumed you were dead

You frowned as you took a double take of the message and the number you didn't recognize. The fuck? You decided to respond anyway, if they were in your class and texted you maybe they would send you their notes too.

You: sorry, who is this??

Unknown number: your favourite jock ;)

They replied, pretty much instantly. You put two and two together, but really the smirking face would have been enough.

You: Carol? How did you get this number??

You rubbed your eyes and pulled you sick bowl closer to you, frowning at the discomfort you felt.

Unknown number: so I am your favourite jock?? Good to know

You rolled your eyes and groaned more, knowing Carol wouldn't be forgetting that in a hurry. You didn't respond to that, instead shutting off your phone in hopes of getting more sleep but a minute later another text came through. You knew it would be Carol, but you still reached over to check it.

Unknown number: and Wanda gave it to me

"Dammit, Wanda." You grumbled, going to write her an angry message but Carol had something else to say.

Unknown number: I asked very nicely

You fought off a smile weakly and decided to change her contact, telling yourself it might be useful to keep it.

Jackass: You home alone?

She didn't seem to want to stop talking. Although you couldn't deny that it made you smile more when you wondered if she meant was anyone there to look after you.

You: I am, parents have to work

Jackass: want me to come over and make you feel better? ;)

Suddenly you didn't feel like talking to Carol anymore. You were sick and feeling crappy and all Carol wanted to do was fuck, she was hardly subtle about it either. If you hadn't already been thinking long and hard about what the jock could possible think of you, that would have been the moment you started to ponder it.

With your mood somehow lowered even more, you turned your phone off to go back to sleep, accidentally swiping the notification that read Jackass: * :)

"I still can't believe you gave her my number." You grumbled as you swirled the chocolaty drink in front of you.

"She did ask very nicely." Wanda grinned.

"Enough about her." You said, leaning forward on your elbows to grin back at your friend. "How's your girlfriend?"

You were on your phone when you saw a donut being pushed across the table towards you out of the corner of your eye. It was your favourite type that also happened to be the one the cafeteria rarely sold, so when it landed in front of you you looked up with a smile, expecting to see Wanda smiling knowingly back at you.

Carol grinned as she pulled out the chair opposite you and sat herself down. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda who was trying to hide her smile and look away.

"It's for you." Carol said after a second.

"What do I have to do for it?" You asked, only half joking as you eyed the treat suspiciously.

"Come on another date with me." She winked. You leaned back and looked away from Carol and the donut, displeased but not surprised. "Nothing." Carol said quickly. "You don't have to do anything, I just know that one's your favourite." The blonde said. You had never told her that. You eyed Wanda again who quickly looked away like she hadn't been watching the interaction and leaned into Natasha.

"Thank you, Danvers." You said quietly, moving the napkin that the donut was on closer to you.

"I thought we were passed that." Carol chuckled, you wanted to smile at the sound. Carol leaned down to grab something out of her rucksack as you started on the donut, not entirely sure if you should try make conversation or just run away.

"I took notes yesterday, while you were gone." The jock said as she put her notebook on the table and flicked through her badly organised pages to find the one she was looking for. You raised your eyebrows slightly in response.

You had never once seen Carol take actual notes in class, but when she spun the book around to face you you were even more surprised to see the detailed notes she had been taking, even with a couple of small diagrams at the bottom she had probably copied from the board.

"Are they okay? Wilson's pretty good at this shit I'm sure I could get him to-"

"They're great!" You interrupted. "They're...fuck, I'm sorry but since when did you take notes?" You didn't want to seem rude but it felt like you were witnessing a never before seen event or the discovery of a new species.

"Just figured you would want them." Carol shrugged and took a sandwich out her bag.

"Yeah I... thank you." You muttered and smiled when you saw a small doodle of a star. "Can I?" You asked as you motioned to your phone's camera. Carol nodded with a smile and watched as you took photos of her notes.

Wanda coughed from across the table and you shot daggers at her, knowing what she so desperately wanted to say. She hasn't done that for anyone else.

"It was sweet of her though." Wanda pointed out as her eyes stayed fixed on Natasha's form.

"It was, but you've gotten me donuts before and you don't want to date me." You said as you tried to stop your eyes trailing to Carol again as they seemed to keep doing.

"Well if Natasha wasn't here..." Wanda teased with a smile. You rolled your eyes at your friend and chuckled.

"Are Carol's abs as hard as they look?" Wanda asked randomly. You couldn't help but look up at the blonde at the mention of her name and perhaps one of your favourite things about her.

It was a hot day and her team was training hard on the field, so most of the athletes had their shirts off. Carol's abs were on full display and given the amount of core stretches she had been doing they were as prominent as ever.

"They are." You muttered, remembering the first time you ran your hands across her chest.

You heard giggling in the row behind you and turned around to see a group of girls also watching Carol and her team train. It was obvious their gazes fell on the same area yours had and suddenly you remembered the long list of names that Carol used to show off proudly.

The girl's whispers became louder as did the giggling and without realizing what you were doing you found yourself comparing you to them. They were popular, effortlessly beautiful and probably had much more experience than you ever had. You couldn't compete with that. Especially when you didn't even know why Carol wanted you. You rested your head on your knees and tried to zone out the world around you as your insecurities ate at you more.

"Come on." Wanda nudged you gently as she stood up from the bleachers. You grabbed your bag and followed after her, noticing that practice was apparently over.

Natasha was standing at the bottom of the bleachers and pulled Wanda into a tight hug. You smiled at the motion, wishing you had what they did.

"Hey." Carol said to you, her eyes shining lightly in the sun.

"Hey yourself." You nodded as you began to walk behind Wanda and Nat. Carol fell into place beside you and made you think about the height difference between you. You were convinced she could give the best piggy back rides.

"You make it look easy." You blurted out. Carol arched a perfect brow at you as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Sport." You generalized, waving your hands.

"Y/n is allergic to sport." Wanda called back.

"Is that right?" Carol smirked as she looked at you.

"It is not, it's just not my thing." You defended.

"Then what is your thing?" Carol asked curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You replied as you searched your brain, not really knowing if you had a thing. Nothing serious at least.

"I would." Carol fired back.

"That's too bad." The jock smiled and decided not to push.

"I'm sure there's a sport you can do." Carol pondered.

"If there is if it could be added to the curriculum that would be really helpful." You sighed.

"Y/n L/n, are you failing a class?" Carol gasped dramatically. You groaned when Wanda laughed, confirming the blonde's assumption.

"Could be worse, I fail loads of classes and everything seems to work out okay." Carol said calmly, seemingly completely unfazed.

You reached the car park and slowed down when you saw Natasha follow Wanda to her car. Wanda was your lift to school and therefore your ride home too. You had stayed behind to study in the library and joined your friend on the bleachers when it shut to see the last of the teams training, not thinking about the fact Wanda was staying behind so she could hang out with Natasha after.

"I can give you a ride home." Carol offered as she threw her car keys up in the air and caught them easily. You pondered that for a second, you really didn't want to be a third wheel to your friend, even if it was a short drive home.

"Yeah, thanks, Danvers." Wanda gave you a knowing smile as she waved goodbye and practically ran to her car with Natasha.Yeah, definitely the best call to leave them alone.

You got into Carol's car and tried to ignore all the memories you had of being in the backseat, instead resting your arm against the window to try and keep your focus on that. Carol didn't say much as you drove which surprised you. She seemed deep in thought about something and you couldn't help but wonder what.

"You want to come to mine?" She said suddenly. You froze in your seat before answering.

"Just my place will do. For me only! I mean I... I have homework." You rambled and felt your whole face heat up. You wondered if being in a car with Wanda and Natasha jumping each other could possibly be more uncomfortable than being sat with Carol and trying to decline her advances.

"I could help." She offered, seemingly genuinely.

"I can handle it." You forced a laugh. Carol nodded and didn't say anything else until she pulled up to your house.

"Thanks again, Danvers." You smiled at the blonde as you hauled you bag up and opened the door.

"I'm always happy to help you out, y/n." Carol smiled back your way genuinely and your stomach did a little flip.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you made your way through the school corridors and opened the double doors to the library. You smiled to the librarian as always and got a limited response but your smile faltered when you saw your usual table was taken... by Carol.

She was in her training attire and scrolling mindlessly through her phone until she glanced up and saw you. "Hey." She smiled.

"Are you lost?" You asked as you walked towards her slowly.

"No and go get changed." Was all she said as she pushed a bag of school gym clothes towards you.

"And why would I do that?" You sighed as you peered into the bag.

"Y/n," Carol started as she tilted her chair back and rested her hands behind her head with her feet on the table, her usual confident smile playing on her lips. "Does it or does it not absolutely kill you that you're failing a class?" You paused before flicking yours eyes up to her. Yes, it absolutely did.

"And am I or am I not the best athlete in the school?" Also hard to argue with. You shifted on your feet.

"Come on, y/n. I promise I'll help you at least pass the class." Carol said with certainty. You chewed your gum as you thought about it.

"What do you get out of it?" You asked as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

"I can go to sleep at night knowing I've helped an underling." She grinned. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at her, Carol continued to smile back at you.

"That A* you got us on that project made me pass the class." Carol shrugged.

"Alright, Danvers." You nodded and picked up the bag. "But no funny business."

"Great!" She exclaimed and took her feet off the table to stand up.

"I'll see you in the main hall in 10."

Barely ten minutes into Carol's 'warm ups' you were already out of breath and in need of a break. You glared at her every time she barked orders at you with a grin, clearly enjoying bossing you around.

"Catch!" Carol exclaimed as she hauled a basketball at you. You ducked out the way and watched it fly past your head.

"You trying to kill me?!" Carol was bent over laughing at your exasperation and inability to catch a simple ball.

"Shut the fuck up, Danvers." You huffed but managed to hit the second ball that came your way.

"You really are allergic to sports huh?" She teased as you scowled at her. "Okay, let's start with the basics."

Surprisingly, from that point onward Carol wasn't that bad. She gave you a lot of pointers that honestly proved helpful because you slowly started to improve. Granted, you were still bad, but you were better.

"Arms like this." She instructed and watched as you mimicked her shooting position. "Elbows a little higher." You did as she said but she smiled at the attempt and stepped behind you. You froze up a little when she put her hands over yours and lifted them up too to a position that felt more natural.

"You got it." She assured, speaking right next to your ear so you could feel her breath against your skin. Then she withdrew her soft hands from yours and backed away. You missed the contact immediately.

"Now shoot." She instructed. You missed.

Carol trained you after school pretty much every day after that. Your limbs always ached after those sessions, so much so you were tempted to cave and take Carol up on her offer of a back rub.

You found that some sports were actually kind of fun to play with Carol, whether it was the absence of the pressure you got in a full class of teenagers or just because you enjoyed the blonde's company, it wasn't all that bad.

You still couldn't find a sport you were good at, but you didn't really care. You wondered what would happen when you did. Would Carol coach you at it for a bit then abandon your sessions? They couldn't keep going forever. The pang you got in your chest was the reason you had been ignoring Carol weeks prior, you didn't want to feel that for her. You just couldn't help it.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." You recalled as Valkyrie wrote it down.

"I knew it was something like that." She waved off.

"Yeah you were really close with..." You glanced at her notes. "She gives me a boner." You laughed and put your face in your hand.

"That's the modern day translation!" Valkyrie exclaimed defensively.

"Please don't put that in your exam." You sighed as you flicked through your copy of Romeo and Juliet to find the next act.

"One sec." Valkyrie said as she looked down at her phone that was vibrating on the desk with a caller ID that you couldn't read.

"Hey, Captain." Valkyrie answered. You looked her way and back at your book quickly. There was more than one Captain in the school.

"I'm in the library studying." She continued and paused for the other voice to speak. "It's not that bad, a pretty girl's teaching me Romeo and Juliet." Valkyrie winked at you and you smiled weakly back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Fucking jocks and their shameless flirtation.

"Yeah I'll be done soon, see you then." She said and hung up the phone before turning back to you.

"Are there any quotes about boners?" The minutes after that went by painstakingly slowly. It was only a one off tutoring session that you would get an extra credit for, but you could think of a million things you would rather be doing with your lunch break.

Valkyrie nodded past you at someone at the library entrance. You turned around out of instinct and saw Carol strolling towards your table, eyes focused on you.

"Thanks for this." Valkyrie said as she packed away her things. "If I pass the exam I'm gonna have to find some way to make it up to you." She smirked as her eyes trailed over your legs.

You glanced at Carol who looked far from pleased at Valkyrie's comment and couldn't help but smile because that is exactly what she sounded like to you sometimes.

"That's okay." You muttered as you tried to avoid her gaze and put your books back in your bag.

"Alright, but I'm having a party this weekend. You should come."

"I'm not really a party person." You laughed awkwardly, wanting the encounter to be over.

"You don't have to spend long at the party itself." Valkyrie shrugged as she took a bold step towards you. "You could always stay in my room-"

"She said no." Carol cut in. Her eyes bore into Valkyrie's with a look that said the conversation was over. Her stance was firm and her jaw was tightly locked as she glared at her team mate. Valkyrie frowned and looked back at you as you fiddled with your bag zip and avoided her eye, silently thanking Carol even if she had been a tad aggressive.

"Right, sorry." Valkyrie muttered before making her way past you. Carol gave you a small smile before turning to leave with her team mate. You were sure Wanda would have something to say about that.

It was a few days until you saw Carol again. She had texted you to briefly say she had practice after school and you didn't see her at lunch breaks either. It annoyed you to admit you missed her company.

With every second you spent with the jock your crush on her grew. You knew that any longer and you may just end up head over heals for her which would only end in heart break for you. But every time you saw the wisp of blonde hair, shine of brown eyes with her confident smile or even just that god damn varsity jacket, you didn't care about how it could end.

It was a Thursday when she texted you during lunch to ask if you wanted to practice after school. You replied a little too eagerly with a yes and continued listening to Wanda rant about something dumb Pietro had done.

A few hours later you held a bat in your hands and prepared for Carol to throw the ball your way. She wasn't very talkative that day, a rarity for the blonde. You wanted to ask if something was up with her but the concentrated look on her face made you not want to disrupt her train of thought.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly.

"That's alright." You sighed as you watched the ball roll across the field. That was a particularly fast throw.

"About snapping in the library." Carol corrected. "I didn't mean to make it awkward." She said as she scratched the back or her neck then stretched her arm to throw again.

"You didn't." You assured honestly. "I was already uncomfortable." You huffed as you missed another throw from Carol even after trying to apply all her tips.

"Val can be quite persistent." Carol said, still not showing her smile.

"Just like someone else I know." You shrugged. Carol faltered at the obvious call out.

"Lets switch." She said quietly and handed you her glove as she took the bat from you. She explained to you the basics of her own throwing techniques and had a few recommendations on what she thought might work best for you.

"If you ever told me no, I'd back off." Carol said as put the bat up. You were thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation.

"I know you would have." You hoped Carol noticed your use of past tense. You had already decided that sex with her again would be too dangerous for you. God only knows what you would end up blurting out. You cringed at the thought of confessing your love for Carol as she fucked you.

Your eyes shifted to the track team that were doing their laps around another part of the field. They made it look as easy as always.

"You got eyes for one of them, y/n?" Carol asked in a voice that seemed more curious than teasing.

"Not my type." You muttered as you threw the ball weakly again.

"What is your type?" Carol asked, unable to mask her curiosity that time.

"I don't know." You huffed. The blonde looked at you expectantly, clearly hoping for something more. "And what's your type, Danvers?" You asked, successfully shifting the conversation when you saw a glint in Carol's eyes. Her smile returned.

"Eh, about (your height), (your eye colour) eyes, terrible at sport but really cute so it's dorky." Carol shrugged. Damn, that could almost be me. You glanced up at the blonde to throw again and saw her smirking at you.

"Someone should warn her." You joked in a feeble attempt to hide your disappointment that we swelling in the pit of your stomach.

"I just did." Wait... Carol's smirk grew as she watched the realization spread across your face. You blushed deeply and tried to fight off a smile.

"I don't think baseball's working either." You muttered.

"You know it's strange, I always thought you were going to become a jock." Pietro said thoughtfully before taking a bite of his apple.

"First of all how dare you and secondly what the hell gave you that idea?" You exclaimed. Wanda was giggling besides you while Carol gave you a look of faux offence.

"That's the highest compliment!" She argued.

"I second that." Natasha nodded.

"Do you remember Wanda's 14th birthday party?" Pietro asked.

"It's a treasured memory." You grinned at Wanda. "I kicked your ass at bowling." You recalled proudly.

"You kicked everyone's ass at it. Bowling's a sport isn't it?" Apparently word had spread about Carol's private lessons. You and the blonde had spent weeks going back and forth between different sports. Overall, you were still pretty crap but you had been lifted to a passing grade in the class. You kept meaning to tell Carol that, but you didn't want the lessons to end. You concluded that as long as she didn't ask, you wouldn't tell.

"I'd say so." Wanda shrugged but Carol and Natasha clearly had different opinions.

"Fuck no!"

"Please do not align that with us!" They erupted. You and Wanda started to laugh at their outraged expression, never knowing something to piss a jock off more.

The sound of the bell overhead was followed by a few groans from those around the table as you all packed up and left the table. At least it was a Friday. You wandered across the field on your usual route of going round the main buildings to avoid the crowded corridors, lost in your thoughts until someone jogged up besides you.

"Bowling, huh?" She inquired as she slowed down to a walk.

"It's been years." You said offhandedly.

"You got plans tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"We should go bowling, if you want to. Obviously just as part of your lessons." Carol offered as she looked ahead.

"I thought you said it isn't a sport." You eyed the blonde suspiciously with a smile.

"It isn't, but this I have to see."

"Okay." You nodded without much thought. Bowling with the jock did sound fun.

"I'll pick you up at 2."

"These shoes are ridiculous." Carol grumbled.

"American football shoulder pads are ridiculous but you don't hear me calling that out." You fired back.

"Oh, so that was meant at someone else?"

"Sure." You shrugged as you smiled at Carol's brightly coloured shoes. You went onto your lane and gleamed at the nostalgic sound of pins being knocked over and the bright spot lights across the lanes.

Carol put your names into the scoreboard tablet as you ran your hands over the bowling balls and frowned slightly as you realized you still had to use one of the smaller ones.

"Experts first." Carol motioned to the beginning of the lane with a small smirk and you smiled back at her excitedly and grabbed a ball.

"Just remember it's been a while!" You called back to the eagerly watching blonde. She hummed back. You brought the ball up to your chest to have a feel of the weight and glared at the pins, there had to be something you could impress Carol with. With a deep breath, you swung your arm back and forward to let the ball go, center down the lane and colliding with the painted targets. All but one knocked over and you couldn't help but throw tour hands up in the air in triumph.

"That was pretty good!" You declared as you turned back to Carol happily. She beamed back at you, giving you a smile that made her eyes squint and look absolutely adorable.

You grabbed the second ball and rolled it smoothly across the polished floor, successfully hitting the last pin. Carol strolled up after you, her hands hovering over the range in front of her and landing on one for someone with a bigger hand. You scoffed quietly, not believing the jock could hold it but she picked it up with ease.

You stood, wide eyed, watched as she sauntered over to the lane and swung her arm. The ball veered off to the side and took down a couple of pins that Carol glared at.

"Unlucky is all." She grumbled as she went to get another ball. This time when she threw it it fell into the dip along the side, it was hard to hide your amusement.

"That's just bullshit." Carol grumbled.

"Do you want me to put the sides up for you, Danvers? Or maybe I could ask someone for that ramp." You teased. She flipped you off and went to sit on the small sofa and watched you carefully.

You knocked most of the pins over on your next few goes while Carol got very little. You tried to give her a few tips but apparently her ego was too big to accept them, which meant you were winning marginally.

You spun around to face the blonde after knocking the last of your pins over but she wasn't on her spot on the sofa. You were about to get your phone out to text her but you spotted her sauntering back towards your area with a bowl of nachos. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Carol gave a dramatic huff as she spotted the scoreboard and beckoned you over to the small table by the sofas. "We'll start a new round after these." She said as she put them on the table. "I didn't poison them." She quipped when you didn't move.

"Sometimes I think you'd do anything to win." You replied as you sat down opposite her and took one of the nachos. In all honesty you weren't expecting Carol to get the snack, never mind to want to share it.

Carol flexed her right hand absent mindedly as she glanced around at over areas of the alley. "Your hand hurting?" You asked as you took another nacho with a lot of cheese on it.

"A little." She shrugged and lifted it up to look at the back of her mind. Without thinking, you put your hand and pressed it gently flat against hers. Not only were her fingers longer than yours but her palm was bigger too, even her wrist was thicker. It was only when you caught Carol's eye that you went to bring your hand away but she laced her fingers through yours and put them down on the table.

"Sorry, I was just curious." You blushed even though it was clear Carol didn't mind.

"Okay." She chuckled as she continued on the nachos. You finished the rest of the snack in silence with your hands still together until you leaned back and glanced at the lane again.

"Ready to have your ass kicked again?" You quipped.

"Don't get cocky, kid." Carol mused as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Since when did you know Star Wars?" You asked in complete disbelief.

"I love Star Wars." Carol said casually. "And since always."

"I didn't take you for the type." You smiled as you tried to study the jock for any signs of a lie.

"That's just because you never asked." She shrugged and stood up, letting your hands slide apart. You missed the contact instantly but that didn't distract you enough from her words.

Of course you had never asked her something like that, Star Wars was the last thing you'd guess she would like. You knew there was always more to people than what they showered publicly, but Carol had always seemed like such an open book in every way. So hearing that she wasn't quite what you thought she was, even after the few months of knowing her better, simply made you impossibly more interested in the blonde. You stared at Carol in nothing short of awe, she was really something else.

"I've had enough of these shoes." She declared.

"You quitting on me Danvers?" You quipped but really your heart dropped at the thought she wanted to cut your outing short.

"I'm just thinking we could try our hand at a few other things, seeing as we're not doing sport anymore." She said as she nodded towards the arcade.

Your eyes lit up at all the games in the entrance as you found your competitiveness returning. You both returned your shoes and practically ran over to the arcade area with all its choices. You decided to head towards the air hockey first as you argued over whether or not it was a sport. Carol, of course, took the opposition.

Your reflexes weren't as good as hers but you liked to think you put up a good fight, even if you did curse under your breath every time the blonde scored. The screen above you both lit up to declare Carol's victory that she was very happy to celebrate, you watched as she danced around the table towards you in what could have been the dorkiest thing you had ever seen.

"You having fun there?" You laughed.

"So much fun." Carol grinned back and eyed her next target.

"Absolutely not!" You cried out when her eyes landed on the basketball. You took her by the hand and tried your best to ignore the electricity running up your arms at how perfectly her hand fit in yours and led her through the arcade. You came to a halt by a racing game and before you could even suggest the idea to Carol she was clambering into the seat and shoving the coins into the machine. You sat down next to her and did the same. You were both terrible. The controls were slightly broken and far too sensitive, making the cars on screen spin around when you tried to turn and never going straight.

"Piece of garbage!" Carol shouted at the screen as you passed the finish line by some miracle.

"Wanna go again?" You asked with a grin but the blonde was already jumping off the seat.

"Now this I have to win." Carol declared as she spotted the nearest shooting game. It was some kind of zombies in space crossover but you didn't much question that when you picked up the plastic gun.

"We work together on this, Danvers." You laughed.

"Count yourself lucky then." Carol said as she aimed her gun at the screen as the game started.

"The fact that you didn't know how it works doesn't make me all that confident in you." You pointed out as you started firing at the horde of zombies. You didn't see one that was charging at you from the left but Carol shot it down before it reached you.

"You're welcome." She smirked then shot some more on your right. "Come on, y/n I'm doing all the work here."

"Fuck yourself, Danvers." You fired back as you tried to reload your gun.

"Fuck me yourself you coward." She challenged. Your mouth went dry but you started to laugh. She didn't make the comment with her usual smirk and suggestive tone, instead it seemed like a genuine joke that you didn't get anxious about.

"That would be a first." You quipped with a smile. You managed to take the last few zombies.

"It really would be, I am a virgin after all." She said casually and you dropped your gun. "Oh shit, here we go!" Carol laughed as the zombie boss made its dramatic entrance.

"Wait what?" You stammered as you looked between Carol and the screen while trying to get a grip on the plastic gun.

"What? No one's ever fucked me. I fuck girls, they don't fuck me back." She shrugged simply and started rapid firing at the boss.

"Maybe you should stop being exclusive to pillow princesses." You joked in a feeble attempt to mask your surprise.

"Maybe, it's not just that." She started. It confused you that she could say something so out of character while keeping most of her attention on the screen. "I don't trust any of them. I don't know, it's just, when it comes down to it, I freak out." Carol tried to explain but seemed to struggle.

"Damn." She sighed when the screen presented 'Game Over' in an overtly bloody text. You wandered away from the booth as you thought about what Carol said. She had a content smile on her face as she looked around and you figured the conversation was over.

"I love these." You told the blonde when you came across a Wac A Mole machine. You put the coins in and lifted up the rubber mallet as you kept your eyes on the board. The first one sprung up in front of you and Carol announced its presence with a cry.

"Thank you, Danvers." You smiled after hitting the figure.

"There!" She pointed to the next one, and the next one until you shouldered her out the way, not expecting her to actual wander off. When the game was over you grinned in triumph and looked to Carol for her praise but she wasn't near by. With a frown, you ventured around the arcade and found the jock hunched over a claw machine.

"These things eat you money, you know?" You half joked but to your surprise Carol dropped a small teddy bear into the box.

"And how long did that take you?" You teased as she picked it up.

"Its for you." You ran your thumb over the left paw that had a heart over it and smiled back at the jock who kept surprising you.

"Thank you, Carol." She nodded and the pair of you started to walk out the arcade and main building. Much to your surprise it was starting to get dark and there were few cars in the car park. You guessed the place would be closing soon but you hadn't realized you had been there so long. Time always seemed to fly by with Carol.

"How long were we even..." You started to laugh lightly until you turned to Carol and realized how close together you were. Your breath hitched when your eyes locked with her own that seemed to be looking back at you with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Can I kiss you?" You whispered gently. You licked your lips and nodded slowly.

Her other hand rested on your cheek as her thumb caressed the smooth skin slightly and finally closed the distance entirely.

You had kissed Carol before, but never like that. It was slow and longing and gentle and you reciprocated in an instant, matching the rhythm she set. You brought you hands up to Carol's neck and cherished the moment of feeling connected to her in the way you had been craving before you pulled apart.

"It's only our second date, Danvers." You couldn't help but quip, not knowing what to say in such an unfamiliar scenario.

"Well this second date has taken a lot of work to get." Carol pointed out and you laughed as you continued to hold her close.

"I was scared." You admitted.

"You don't have to be scared with me." Carol assured gently.

"You mean it? You really..."

"I really love you." She confirmed.

"That's lucky for me, because I love you too." You smiled and brought Carol in for another kiss that she happily encouraged.

"So... more dates?" Carol asked with a laugh, clearly not all that familiar with the procedure either. You would work it out quickly.

"Yeah Carol." You chuckled.

"That I still have to work hard for?" She half joked.

"Not if we're girlfriends." The blonde laughed more at that.

"I'm glad to hear I've upgraded from just your favourite jock.

"You're always going to be my favourite jock too." You assured and kissed Carol once more.

Carol kissed a path down your stomach and smiled against your skin as she felt you shiver. Even after weeks of dating you still weren't used to her kisses, especially not across your more sensitive areas of skin.

"I got you." She whispered as she hooked her fingers over your pajama bottoms and panties and pulled them down together, kissing the newly found skin. You shivered more as her breath ghosted over your clit making you whine and buck your hips up. Carol smiled at your reaction and leaned down not before whispering "God, you're beautiful.

She wrapped her full lips around your clit and reveled in the moan that spilled from your lips. Her tongue dipped between your folds and she moaned at the sweet taste that invaded her taste buds.

You wrapped your hands in Carol's long blonde hair to bring her closer but she pulled away with a smirk. Before you could whine in protest she pulled her own trousers down to reveal a strap you hadn't seen before. It was different in shape and colour but the most noticeable different was the absence of the harness. You moaned softly at the realization it was anchored inside her.

"I want to feel it with you." Carol said as she lowered herself back towards you and placed her hands either side of your head and kissed your neck.

"Are you sure?" You asked tentatively. It would be the first time Carol had been on the receiving end to such a level. The most you had done was go down on her a few times.

"Yes, I trust you. I love you." She grinned and lined the strap up with your entrance.

"I love you too." You had really started to enjoy saying that to her.

You moaned breathlessly as Carol inched the strap into you carefully and kissed along your jaw more. She moaned with you when she bottomed out and felt the strap dig deeper into her. Her hips twitched as she took a moment to gather her own composure and held your hands above your head, your fingers intertwined.

"I got you." You assured back to her as she started to pull out and push back in. Carol moaned loudly in response and held you closer to her as she started to build up a rhythm, your thigh slapping together.

You moaned in sync as the strap pleasured you both more and more. You wrapped your legs tightly around your girlfriend's waist to push the strap deeper inside you both.

You shuddered every time Carol's skin met yours. Carol started thrusting the toy faster and harder as she chased her own release.

"It's so good!" You cried out. You both struggled to form words, only managing breathless moans as the strap pressed firmly against your g-spots in sync.

"Me too, fuck, please Carol. Cum with me." You pleaded and gave a strangled moan. Carol shuddered and moaned louder than you had ever heard as she came undone at the same time as you.

"Y/n." Your girlfriend shuddered and started to grind her hips against yours as she rode out her high with you.

"It's okay, I got you." You said as you held onto Carol's bare back. You held her close to you as she breathed heavily against your neck, the irregular patterns starting to even out. She was still shaking so you planted soft kissed across the patches of her face that weren't hidden in your neck as you stroked her hair, a content smile on your lips.

She adjusted herself slightly and the pair of you moaned softly when she eased the toy out and put it on the floor. "I'll clean it later." She whispered, eyes closed, before you could say anything.

"Okay." You chuckled and brought her closer to you. You wrapped your arms around one another as your legs tangled together under the sheets.

Carol's soft breath caressed your skin as you stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. A faint smile played across her lips at the action, confirming that she was just as happy as you were.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @wndrcarol

Join a taglist

#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagines #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #jock!carol

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newronantic · 3 years

Text

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Don’t You Worry (Your Pretty Little Head)

Pairing: Guitarist!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: THE LENGTH lmfao, soft smut??? Nothing vulgar and it’s sorta implied

A/N: I am honestly nervous about posting this piece because idk, aside from it being fucking long, I was never satisfied with how this was written lmfao. I literally rewrote this like idk 5 times??? And the fact that I made a mood board for a oneshot lmfao only means I poured my heart out into this shit and I’m really hoping y’all would enjoy this as much as my other works 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your idea of a fun Friday night involved your couch and Netflix playing in the background as you scrolled through your phone with a glass of wine in hand. This was your definition of pure bliss, something that Wanda violently opposed to.

So here you were, seated in the front of a music bar while Wanda’s favorite band played.

“See? This isn’t so bad, right? Better than wallowing in your apartment alone.” She teased as she leaned over to you, needing to amp up the volume of her voice so you can hear her.

“The fact that we can’t even hear each other properly makes wallowing alone sound so much better.” You told her, not even bothering to repeat yourself when she didn’t understand what you said over the loud music playing.

Her favorite band introduced their last song for the night and as they did, you checked your phone for the time. It was barely past ten in the evening and you were already dying to get home. You’ll bid goodbye after this, you promised yourself. Just one last song and you’re out. Before the band could even finish their last song, you’d already decided on what pizza to order and which wine to bring out.

That was until the next band came up on stage to prepare for their performance. You were leaning over Wanda already, about to tell her that you were heading home, when one particular guy caught your eye. Something that Wanda noticed when she saw you gawking at the stage.

“Oh my god. He’s definitely your type.” Wanda said when her eyes landed on the bassist.

He had dirty blonde hair and a clean-shaven face that looked a little too innocent for someone to be in a rock band. Your exact type— one with the boy next door appeal, someone you’d want to bring home to introduce to your parents. Wanda was so sure you were crushing on the bassist but as soon as he followed your line of sight, she almost choked on her own spit.

You weren’t eyeing the bassist, instead, you were completely focused on the lead guitarist. You were so enamored by this guy that you failed to notice Wanda gushing over the fact that you were enamored by someone who was the complete opposite of your type.

It was the lead guitarist who caught your attention. The one with long hair tied into a low, messy man bun, his stray locks framing his perfectly chiseled face. It wasn’t only the hair that made you look at him, it was also his left arm— it was covered entirely with tattoos. And then he started playing the guitar and good god, his fingers were something else.

It was rare for you to have certain thoughts, the kind that would make you sweat in church. And thank fuck for Wanda finally snapping you out of your filthy trance because if she hadn’t, you would’ve seriously drowned in your not so pure thoughts.

“I can’t believe you’re attracted to that guy. This makes me so excited, honestly.” Wanda squealed.

“Huh?” You played dumb of course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wanda snorted out loud, “I just witnessed you drool over the guitarist for a good five minutes. Stop denying.” She said.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I did. And so what? It’s not like I’m gonna act on it.”

“You have to fuck him.” Wanda casually suggested, making you choke on your drink.

You weren’t a prude but you didn’t like the idea of hooking up with people, most especially strangers. You weren’t going to lie though, it did cross your mind. Obviously, the way his fingers moved on his guitar really threw your brain down the gutter. Sure, you might have wondered what it’d be like to have those fingers on you but again, would you act on it? Hell no.

“It’s just one night. Live a little, come on. And you getting attracted to someone like him? That’s once in a blue moon, all the more you need to bring him home.” Wanda said.

“One night stands don’t really work well for me and you know that. The first time I tried that was also the last time because I ended up getting attached. And how did that end? Terrible. So no, thank you. Never again.” You told Wanda.

Fortunately, Wanda stopped bugging you about fucking the guitarist. It wasn’t really a big deal, it was nothing but a moment of admiration. You were hell-bent on going home anyway, well, maybe after his band finishes their first song. Besides, he wouldn’t notice you so why bother staying?

“Oh my god, he’s looking at you!” Wanda almost screamed, slapping at your arm until you turned to the stage.

And holy fuck. He was really looking at you. Why though? You even looked behind you to make sure it was you he was staring at and when you turned back at him, he smirked and threw a wink at your way.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna head home.” You said, not knowing how to act.

Wanda pulled you back down when you stood up, “Oh no, honey. No one’s going home this early.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?” She quickly added, tipping her head towards the stage.

When you looked up at the guitarist, he was still looking at you as he played. This time, he was actually pouting, as if pleading for you to stay. You quickly avoided his gaze and although it was dimly lit in the bar, you still bowed your head to hide the blush creeping up to your face.

You managed to survive the entire setlist of the band despite the flirty smiles and winks that the guitarist gave you. Wanda was ecstatic about it, it made you wonder if she was actually the one crushing on the guy. As soon as the last song was done, you excused yourself and hurried into the bathroom to compose yourself.

It was the first time that you experienced such attraction towards a guy like him. You always went with the good boys, so why were you so drawn to this guy who looked nothing but trouble? You were in denial, this was totally out of your comfort zone so you shook the thoughts away and promised yourself (again) that you’d head home this time. For real.

“There you are.”

You gasped out loud when you stepped out of the bathroom, quickly colliding against a solid chest when you heard his voice. It was low yet gentle, soft-spoken but sinful.

“I’m sorry?” You sputtered out, bowing down your head to avoid the lead guitarist’s gaze.

“I thought you left already.” He said. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He introduced, extending his left arm for a handshake.

Your eyes landed on his tattooed arm, despite the ink covering it all up you could actually see his veins.

“And I’m going home.” You quickly shook Bucky’s hand, ignoring the electricity that ran through your veins and brushed past him, eyes scanning the bar for Wanda.

Bucky jogged ahead of you, blocking your way and chuckling to himself. “Don’t I at least get a name?” He asked.

You were internally screaming, but you managed to mention your name just so he would leave you alone. Sure, he was hot and he was actually flirting with you. But your fear of the unknown outweighed your attraction. You weren’t ready to step out of your comfort zone. Yet.

Bucky trailed behind you as you looked for Wanda, cursing to yourself when you couldn’t spot her anywhere. You took out your phone and called her immediately.

“Wanda? Where are you?” You hiss into the phone.

Bucky watched you with amusement and it was making you uncomfortable. He was just staring at you with a grin on his handsome face. And now, you just discovered that Wanda left you.

“What?! But why?! You’re my ride home! Come back and pick me up!” You exclaim into the phone, unable to believe that Wanda just ditched you.

“You can’t— hello? Wanda? Hello?” You groaned in frustration when your friend ended the call.

“I’d love to offer you a ride home but it’s too early, so how ‘bout I just buy you a drink?” Bucky asked, flashing you a charming smile that made your knees weak.

Part of you wanted to give in and just say, fuck it, let Bucky do whatever he wants with you. The reasonable part of your brain though, highly opposed to this and pulled on the alarms. This guy probably just wants to get you into his bed and although it doesn’t sound that bad, you worried more for what could happen afterwards. You weren’t ready for a repeat of the past. You were too emotional, you had too many strings and they get attached way too quickly.

“No, thank you.” You told Bucky and headed outside the bar, deciding to book an Uber instead.

Bucky was persevering though and followed you out, blocking your way into the sidewalk and snatching your phone away.

“Hey, give me my phone back!” You exclaimed.

“The night is young, c’mon. Why are you so aloof anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Because I don’t know you?” You responded.

Bucky chuckled, “Have you ever heard about making friends? I mean, pretty much everyone you meet starts off as a stranger. And it’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything. I’m not gonna rob you but I most certainly won’t give you your phone back until I convince you to stay a while.” He said and god, he was too charming for your own good.

He made a good point about making friends. You couldn’t even remember the last time you made a new one. Bucky could see the gears in your head working as you stared at him, cheeks flushed and lips parted in deep thought.

“So, what do you say? Stay a while? Keep me company. It’ll be fun.” Bucky insisted.

“Why me?” You blurted out.

It wasn’t that you were insecure, but you were way too different from Bucky. You didn’t seem like his type, but then again, he wasn’t your type either. Until the moment you saw him on stage.

“Why not?” Bucky responded as if he couldn’t believe you just asked him that question.

“Do you ask that every time someone flirts with you? Besides, it’s not everyday that someone like you stared at me like that.” He teased.

Fuck, so he noticed you drooling over him. Quick! Think of a way out, you told yourself.

“Someone like me? What did you mean by that?” You asked, sounding offended.

Bucky’s eyes widened and shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you come in here wearing a chiffon blouse and a pencil skirt and expect me not to notice? I’m actually flattered that a girl, no...a woman...was ogling me. Definitely piqued my interest.” He explained.

That was a compliment, right? The sirens in your head grew louder at the way Bucky was easily throwing you compliments. He must be used to flirting his way into women’s panties, huh?

“I wasn’t ogling you.” You defended even though you were, looking away from his eyes.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Bucky teased. “Loosen up, will ya? When was the last time you had fun anyway?” He asked.

“Depends on your definition of fun.” You retorted.

“You know what I mean.” Bucky sighed.

“Well, my idea of fun doesn’t involve a guitarist getting me into his bed for a one night stand.” You blurted out, mindlessly.

Bucky made a face and clutched his chest, “Ouch. You went hard on that judgment, I’m not gonna lie, that kinda stings.”

Okay, now you felt bad for jumping to conclusions. Bucky did look like he was hurt from your brash statement. Fuck, he probably thought you were one of those stereotypical bitches! It wasn’t entirely your fault, right? You were just being careful. Were you? Or was it purely overthinking? Your brain was moving all too fast but Bucky quickly distracted you when he took your hand and placed your phone back onto your palm.

“You know, I think I get it why you said that and I honestly can’t blame you. A band dude flirts with you just like that, understandable why you thought that I wanted to get into your pants.” He explained much to your relief.

“I’m sorry, it was tasteless for me to judge you like that.” You quickly apologized, genuinely feeling like a terrible person.

Bucky smiled at you, “Nah, you had every right. I’m sorry if I was too forward but I do really want to spend some time to get to know you. So how about a little proposal?”

There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes that made your heart flutter and your brain go into overdrive. You knew it was a bad idea to give in to Bucky. Someone as charming as him might really be up to no good. Sure, you felt bad for judging him based on his looks. But something in your gut tells you that he was trouble.

“What proposal?” You asked curiously.

“Spend the next twelve hours with me.” Bucky suggested.

You frowned, “What?”

Bucky took your phone again, but only to check the time. “It’s a little past eleven now, I promise you’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Come with me, let loose for once and let’s spend the entire night together. Twelve hours, that’s it.” He said excitedly.

“And I don’t mean have sex with me.” Bucky explained immediately. “We’ll just hang out, it’s a wholesome proposal. But if you do want to have sex with me, I’m not gonna turn that down. I’m just saying, it’s not my motive but I won’t be saying no to it either.” He reassured.

You felt hot all of a sudden at how Bucky casually talked about having sex with you. It made you feel feverish and for someone who wasn’t really a sexual person, it made you feel like you were about to commit a major sin just by listening to Bucky talk like that.

Bucky beamed at you cutely, waiting for your response and honestly, with how his doe eyes were looking at you like that, was it even possible to say no? Despite the continuous alarms in your head and your inner prude begging you to stay within the confines of your comfort zone, you decided to do something for a change.

So you said yes.

You were spending the next twelve hours with Bucky and you could only hope that you wouldn’t regret it.

The night started off slow, thankfully, with Bucky ushering you back into the bar for a couple of drinks. You had to remind yourself to still be alert for any red flags that might show up sooner or later. You knew you were being a bit paranoid, but to hell, it would be better that way than to make mistakes tonight.

“Where do you work?” Bucky asked before calling the waiter.

“I work at a bank.” You told him.

The waiter arrived and took your orders, a tall glass of mojito for you and a rum and coke for Bucky. He asked you a couple more things, where you graduated, your hobbies and what you often did during your weekends. All of which you had pretty boring responses to. Bucky listened though and he didn’t seem bored too, what a relief.

“Are you really sure about spending twelve hours just like this?” You asked, taking another sip from your second glass of mojito.

Bucky snickered, “We won’t be talking the entire night, did you really think I’d ask for your twelve hours just to talk?” He asked.

“What are you planning then?” You asked nervously.

Bucky offered you an amused smile, “Nothing illegal so stop worrying, pretty lady. I can see the gears in your head turning.” He said and leaned forward to smoothen out the crease in between your brows with his thumb.

“Come on, time to have fun.” He said and got up, offering you his hand.

You haven’t even recovered from how gentle Bucky was when he touched your forehead. And now here he was, standing over you with his tattooed arm extended, waiting for you to take his hand.

“I don’t bite.” He stated.

Letting out a sigh, you finished up your drink and stood up, slipping your hand into Bucky’s. He smiled at you, lifting your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss on it before winking.

“See? I told you, I don’t bite.”

You cleared your throat and pursed your lips, biting back a smile as Bucky tugged you as he walked out of the bar, keeping your hand in his the entire time. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?

“Here.” Bucky said, handing you over his helmet.

It was then that you realized that he was about to give you a ride. On his motorcycle. The sirens in your head went off once again, bringing you back to your usual tensed state.

“Oh, no. Look, I know I said yes to your proposal but I’m not going to ride on that.” You disagreed and took a step back.

Bucky looked disappointed but shrugged anyway, placing the helmet back on the bike. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, just because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Come with me.” He said and took your hand in his again as the both of you went back inside the bar.

He brought you towards the booth where the rest of his band were staying at. They all looked at you with smirks on their faces when Bucky introduced you to them.

“That’s Nat, our vocalist. Sam here is our drummer and Steve the bassist.” He said.

You gave them a polite smile and a quick wave. Bucky threw his keys over at Steve, who was supposed to be your type. Wanda thought so and you were just weirded out that you happen to be drawn towards Bucky instead.

“Hey punk, switch your car for my bike? Just for tonight.” Bucky said.

Steve looked so done with his request but shook his head in defeat as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He pointed at Bucky threateningly, “Don’t mess up my car, jerk. You know what I mean by that.” He said before throwing his own keys over at Bucky who caught it with ease.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Thanks, pal!” Bucky bid goodbyes and pulled you again before you could even say your own goodbyes to his bandmates.

Now, you were inside Steve’s car with Bucky and you were nervous as fuck. Although you did find it considerate of Bucky to borrow his friend’s car to make things comfortable for you. You were going to admit that, but it made your heart flutter. You mentally snorted at yourself because fuck, the bar is set pretty low alright.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, noticing how you tensed up all of a sudden.

“Do we have rules?” You asked.

“This night is all about letting loose and the first thing you thought of are rules?” Bucky laughed.

“I’m about to spend the next twelve hours with a complete stranger, of course I’d be worried! What if—“

“Okay, calm down!” Bucky said, turning in his seat to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“If it’ll make you less tense then fine, I’ll come up with rules. Number one is to stop worrying.” Bucky said, rubbing your arms up and down and you were supposed to feel uncomfortable with the intimacy but you didn’t.

There was no malice to it and it made you panic all the more because ugh, Bucky was making you all soft and vulnerable around him. You could hear Wanda inside your head, commanding you to just calm down and go with the flow. You took in a deep breath and composed yourself.

“You gotta learn to trust people. I promise you, we won’t be getting in any trouble. I’ll take good care of you.” Bucky said, letting your arms go and tipping your chin so you’d look at him.

“Rule two, no what ifs. Just focus on the present, okay? If you keep worrying about what could happen, you’ll miss out on the now. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.” Something about the change in Bucky’s eyes when he said that made you curious.

He was on to something, like he really meant it. You wanted to ask him about it, hell, you should start asking him for more information. If he wanted to get to know you better then you should attempt to do the same to him too.

“Last rule is to just enjoy. Like I said, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You trust me now?” Bucky asked with hopeful eyes.

The alarms in your head still kept going, but as you gazed back at Bucky, the softer they were becoming. You could feel yourself start to give in and you know what? It actually doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe this would help with your attachment issues? This will probably teach you how to have fun with no attachments. Take things for what they are and just enjoy.

“Hey, will you trust me?” Bucky asked again.

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

1:15AM

Bucky took you to a hole in the wall open mic bar. It was a small place and everyone there seemed to know each other. And when Bucky arrived, everyone just greeted him and welcomed you there.

“You seem pretty popular here.” You told him as he led you to one of the seats near the makeshift stage.

“I spend a lot of time here.” He said and called over the guy by the bar.

“Hey Happy! Wanna introduce you to a special friend.” He said. The man approached your table and greeted you with a smile.

“Must be really special, you never bring anyone here.” Happy said, making you blush uncontrollably.

Bucky bit his lip as he turned to you, “Do you sing?” He asked.

You quickly shook your head, “Oh god, no. I don’t have the talent.” You said.

Happy chuckled, “That wouldn’t be a problem, trust me.” He reassured.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at you, “Wanna go up there and sing with me?”

“Bucky, no.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, no one’s gonna judge you. Let loose, remember? And if anyone here laughs at you, I’ll be the first to punch them in the face.” He promised.

You thought for a while, keeping your eyes on Bucky. Fuck this. You called Happy and requested for a shot of tequila.

“That’s my girl! Just needs a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

You snorted, “Oh that’s not for me. That’s for you. You’re gonna need it if you’ll be hearing me sing.”

You never performed in front of a crowd, well, back in high school maybe for some school plays. But hell, you were never the center of attention and whenever you had to be, you always experienced a panic attack. But now being on stage with Bucky behind you, playing the guitar as you sang (screeched actually), you’d never felt more alive and relaxed. True enough, no one cared about how off tune you were. In fact, you got a lot of cheers from the crowd.

2:45AM

“You hungry?” Bucky asked.

You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been singing on stage the entire time at the bar. You’d like to believe that it was probably the alcohol running in your veins, but you weren’t that drunk. Tipsy, maybe but definitely not drunk. It was fun, you were surprised at how much you enjoyed singing with Bucky and everybody else. You made a couple of new friends aside from Happy, talked to them and even exchanged numbers with a few. This was the most sociable you’ve ever been.

“I could use some carbs right now.” You laughed, wiping off the sweat on your forehead.

Bucky reached out to fix your hair, moving away the sweaty strands sticking onto your cheeks and tucking them behind your ear. He flashed you that oh so charming smile again and good god, Bucky was truly something else.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” He said.

Bucky drove to a 24-hour food truck somewhere. It was close to 3am but you didn’t feel exhausted, which was shocking given that you’ve been dying to go home a few hours ago before meeting Bucky and agreeing to go on an escapade with him. You could already hear Wanda squealing over the phone once you tell her everything.

The both of you ordered some soft tacos and sat on one of the benches beside the food truck.

“Enjoying so far?” Bucky asked with interest.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth full of food as you devoured your tacos. “Very much.” You admitted.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he laughed along with you, obviously pleased that you were enjoying yourself. Not long ago, twelve hours seemed a bit too long. Now, they felt too short. You could feel your brain begin to overthink what would happen once the the twelve hours are over, but you quickly shook them away and followed Bucky’s advice to focus on the present.

The two of you continued to talk as you ate. You discovered that Bucky and his bandmates go way back and that they’ve been performing since their days at the university. You also found out that Bucky’s last relationship ended six years ago and that he hasn’t dated anyone since then. You found out a lot of things about Bucky, most of which were far from your first impressions.

“Why’d your friend leave you at the bar?” Bucky asked, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

You watched him with hazy eyes as he lighted the cigarette, puffing out a thin line of smoke with ease. You were always drawn to Bucky’s fingers and initially, it was because of the impure thoughts they made you think about. But more than that, they were the gentlest you’d ever seen.

“Probably to get me to have fun.” You responded, looking away timidly when Bucky noticed you staring at his hands.

“She’s gonna be very proud of you after this.” He said.

You nodded and breathed out a chuckle, “Oh, for sure.” You said before turning to Bucky. “Can I try?” You asked, motioning towards his cigarette.

“I haven’t smoked. Ever.” You admitted.

Bucky grinned and passed you the cigarette. “Go on.” He urged and kept his eyes on you as you brought the cigarette up to your lips.

The way Bucky watched you was intimidating in the sense that it felt intimate. It wasn’t like he was eye-fucking you or anything, his eyes were just too...expressive? They held a certain softness to them, a bit of sadness too when you look at it closely. They were the bluest, most beautiful color you’ve seen and they were captivating.

You ended up in a coughing fit from that first drag. Bucky chuckled and took the cigarette from your hand, patting your back as you continued to cough.

“Definitely not for me.” You frowned and took a sip from your iced tea.

“At least you tried. I’m proud of you.” Bucky said, the gentle pats on your back slowing down until his hand remained still.

“You good?” He asked again, sliding his hand lower until he reached the small of your back, but not low enough to make you uncomfortable.

You nodded, “What else is up in your sleeve?” You asked with interest.

“Well, I really wanted to take you on a ride on my bike but I guess that’s for next time.” Bucky confessed.

“Next time?” You asked and you tried not to be hopeful.

“Yeah, next time. We’ll do that next time.” Bucky said and he sounded so sure that you began to worry.

Will there really be a next time? At this point, Bucky could read you like an open book because he chuckled and pressed his thumb against the crease on your forehead again.

“You’re doing it again, whatever you’re worrying about just forget it for now.” He said, soothing out your crease before pinching your nose.

You scrunched your nose making Bucky lightly laugh. He checked the time on his phone and let out a sigh.

3:43AM

“Can I bring you back to my place?”

If you told Wanda that you ended up in Bucky’s place, she would freak out and ask for all the details. But no, you didn’t come home with Bucky for that reason. As he promised, it wasn’t his motive to get you into his bed and he seemed to be genuine about it.

Bucky lived in a small studio-type loft. It wasn’t the penthouse kind with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. It was simple and minimalistic, with just a few pieces of furniture. What Bucky owned were a couple of guitars— different kinds of them, and an electric keyboard.

“It’s not much and I don’t even have a bed frame, I hope you won’t judge me for that.” Bucky said, scratching his neck as he led you inside.

“No, not at all. It’s very cozy in here, actually.” You said, looking around and taking in your surroundings.

Bucky had a lot of indoor plants, you definitely didn’t think of him as a plant guy. As you let your eyes wander, something white zoomed past your vision. A cat.

Bucky also owned a cat.

“This is Alpine.” Bucky said, picking up the feline and carrying it onto his shoulder.

As if Bucky and his plants didn’t make him attractive enough, he really had to own a white cat. You could feel yourself internally screaming about how you haven’t been seeing any red flags. If any, you’ve been seeing green flags pop out every now and then that it was pretty alarming. Strangely, the sirens in your head died down as if they’ve given up on warning you.

Or maybe, there was really nothing to warn about Bucky.

The cat purred and nuzzled its nose into Bucky’s neck and you couldn’t believe that you got jealous for a brief second. Oh, to be cat against Bucky’s chest.

“Feel free to look around, I’ll get you water.” He said, bringing Alpine with him into the kitchen.

You walked around his place and observed the surroundings. He was very organized, more than you actually. You could hear Bucky talk to Alpine and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

A couple of picture frames that sat on Bucky’s bedside table caught your eye. They were photos of him with his mom you assumed, and three more girls.

“Those are my mom and younger sisters.” Bucky said, appearing behind you with a glass of water.

You thanked him as you took the glass and sat down on his bed, “Where are they?” You asked before drinking.

Alpine jumped into your lap and purred, making Bucky laugh with delight as he sat next to you. His parents were back in his hometown together with his sisters. Bucky told you everything about his family and how close he was to his sisters, how they were supportive of him when he decided to become a musician. Then Bucky went on to showcase his guitar collection, telling you the lovely stories behind each of them. You could see how passionate Bucky was for his craft and it was a wonderful thing to witness. You were envious how Bucky pursued his passion, how he took huge risks to get to where he was now.

“And this is my favorite one.” Bucky said, taking a black electric guitar with him as he went back to sit down next to you.

“First one I bought with my own money. It’s old and doesn’t sound as nice as my newer ones, but I love it.” He said and started plucking at the strings.

Alpine hopped off from your lap and went to sleep onto his tiny little bed beside Bucky’s couch. You focused on Bucky’s fingers as he played the guitar. It took you back to the moment you saw him onstage, how those fingers made you wonder about certain things. They moved gracefully against the cords, plucking with ease producing the most wonderful music. You really needed to snap out of your filthy thoughts.

Bucky played the guitar for you, singing some lyrics once in a while. You noticed his tattoos again and stared a bit longer, trying to decipher each design wrapped around his arm. Some were huge, some intricate more than the rest. They were all of different designs but molded together so perfectly.

You had to admit, you didn’t find tattoos attractive before. But on Bucky, it looked like a masterpiece. He himself, was a piece of art with his chiseled jawline and steel blue eyes that made you feel at home.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you softly trailed.

Bucky hummed in response, his attention focused on his guitar as he continued to play.

“Your tattoos, do they mean something?” You asked.

“I got them to cover up the scars from an accident.” Bucky looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You quickly apologized.

Bucky smiled reassuringly, “It’s fine. It was a turning point for me.” He said, setting his guitar aside.

“It really puts things into perspective you know. I crashed my bike one night, I wasn’t drunk, mind you.” He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, my left arm suffered the most. I almost got decapitated but here I am. I got scars all over, really ugly scars so I had them covered up with a tattoo sleeve.” Bucky explained, extending his left arm and looking at it.

“For a while, I wasn’t able to play music. And I hated every second of it. Hated seeing the scars on my arm and how they reminded me of the accident. But you learn to live with it. At least I did, I learned to turn the negative into something positive.”

Now that he said that, you could actually see some of the scars beneath the ink. Bucky shrugged and continued with his story.

“The doctors said I was lucky that I didn’t die. Living my second life now, I realized that I gotta make the most out of it. Focus on the present and enjoy what comes your way. Take risks. Do what scares you.” He explained and now you understood.

You understood why Bucky appeared to be so laid-back and carefree, why he doesn’t worry a lot about the future. He almost lost his life so now he was living it to the fullest. He was living in the present, enjoying every second of it.

“Every time I see my tattoos, I get reminded of my second chance at life and how I shouldn’t waste it.” He said.

Bucky saw the look in your face, how guilty you looked from judging him right away. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up to make you look at him.

“So when I noticed that bored pretty office girl in the audience checking me out, I didn’t waste the opportunity to get to know her. See where it goes, who knows if I’d still be alive tomorrow but at least I shoot my shot.” He said, making you chuckle.

Everything went still in that moment, your usually noisy mind included. Time seemed to have stopped as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes. Biting your lip, you gave in and totally let down your walls.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, doing the same thing with his thumb, soothing the crease in between your brows.

This time, he didn’t take his hand back and allowed it to rest against your cheek before sliding down to your jaw and neck. His thumb began to caress the spot beneath your ear, waiting for you to respond to his question.

What Bucky got was more than just a simple response.

“Fuck it.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto Bucky’s.

All your life you played it safe— from your college course to your choice of career. You weren’t one to take risks either and whenever you needed to, they were always calculated. You did things carefully, making sure that you’d get the results you were expecting to save you from disappointment. The unknown scared you and so does uncertainty. You liked staying in your comfort zone but as much as you’ve been denying it, it was starting to get boring.

You also said you weren’t one to entertain a stranger, let alone hook-up with one. But then Bucky comes along with his long hair and tattooed arm, looking like trouble but bringing you none. You’d think that he just wanted to get into your pants but as he showered you with gentle kisses and feathery touches, you realized that Bucky might be different and that he was so much more than just the hot lead guitarist of a band.

Bucky’s calloused fingers perfectly contrasted the smooth expanse of your skin. They felt rough but remained gentle as they moved along your chest, as they danced along your back, as they stroked your inner walls. And his lips, they were tender and soft; they whispered nothing but promises and praises against your ear as your bodies moved in unison.

His eyes remained on you, taking all of your nakedness in, literally and figuratively. He watched you closely, with those blue eyes of his that always made you blush. Bucky’s eyes were truly mesmerizing, no matter how much you wanted to look away from embarrassment, you couldn’t. You felt trapped in those eyes, and you never want to leave.

And his left arm— you could feel the ridges of his scars as you let your hands feel his skin. But they weren’t ugly, didn’t feel weird against the pads of your fingers. His arm offered nothing but warmth and support when you reached your high and came crashing down. His arms caught you and protected you, his embrace was reassuring and it made you feel safe.

5:58AM

The city was quiet and the sun was barely up. Alpine was still curled up on his bed, sleeping. You were exhausted but satisfied and comfortable as you laid on your stomach, head turned and facing Bucky as you listened to him talk.

He was talking about his band’s first performance in college, laughing when he said that he almost threw up from being so nervous. Bucky had the softest voice in the wee hours of dawn, you loved listening to him. Lucky you, Bucky had been talking about anything and everything until the dark skies began to change its hues. He shared his dreams and his secrets and you admired him more and more.

“You should come to our rehearsals.” He suggested, letting a hand trace patterns on your bare back.

“Sounds nice.” You yawned, blinking your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

“What do you want for brunch?” Bucky asked, almost mumbling from being half-asleep.

You hummed, “By the time we wake up, it might be close to dinner.” You joked.

“Breakfast food is way better during dinner. Want me to cook for you?” Bucky said before yawning.

Your eyes were lidded as you took in Bucky’s form. He was laying beside you, long hair messed up and lips swollen pink from kissing. He looked unreal as a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through his curtains, embracing his body with its warm glow. The sun was now fully up, witnessing the tender aftermath of your intimacy with Bucky as he reached out to brush his knuckle along your cheekbone.

“I’m surprised you can cook.” You said softly, close to falling asleep.

“I’m pretty good at it.” Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll cook for you when we wake up.”

Bucky’s soft lips against yours was the last thing you felt before sleep took over.

12:24PM

A soft purr paired with soft paws on his face stirred Bucky awake. He groaned at Alpine when she meowed right into his face. Must be feeding time, he thought.

Bucky gently moved Alpine aside and turned, only to be met by a cold, empty space beside him. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes before quickly scanning his apartment for you.

You were gone.

And judging by the cold sheets on your side of the bed, you’d left hours ago. Bucky sighed in disappointment as he got up, putting on his boxers and quickly checking the bathroom. He hoped you’d be there, but you weren’t.

You didn’t even leave a note.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to cook for you, really. He wanted to bring you to his band’s rehearsals, maybe even write a song for you.

He wanted more than twelve hours with you.

Wanda had been on your ass for days now. When you told her about your twelve hours with Bucky, she was happy and proud. By the time you got to the end of it, she was fuming and was close to actually physically hurting you.

She wouldn’t stop bugging you about it, demanding you to at least look Bucky up on Facebook or Instagram. Wanda believed that what you and Bucky shared that night was special, something real and not just a one-time thing.

You woke up that morning, feeling sore but happy. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you opened your eyes to the sight of Bucky sleeping peacefully beside you. He seemed to be dreaming, his brows creased and lips pursed.

Reaching out, you did what Bucky kept on doing to you whenever you were worrying. You pressed your thumb against his forehead, soothing out the crease as gentle as you could so as not to wake him up. Bucky stirred in his sleep and unconsciously took your hand in his, pressing a kiss onto your palm before falling back into his slumber.

And that’s when it started; the alarms in your head went off and they were the loudest they’ve ever been. You were almost deafened by it, your logic drowning beneath your panicked thoughts as you got up from bed. You dressed up in a hurry, grabbing your things and phone to book yourself a ride home. Alpine woke up and ran over to your legs, purring as if begging you not to go.

You refused to look back and went straight for the door.

One and a half week later, here you were still feeling like the most terrible person on the entire planet. You had searched for Bucky online, of course. You just didn’t tell Wanda that but it was the first thing that you did upon going home. There were instances when you were tempted to send him a DM, or add him up on Facebook but you never did.

That one night with Bucky changed everything, it changed you. You immediately filed for a resignation, realizing that you were no longer happy working for the bank. It was a spur of the moment decision but you knew it was the right one. You didn’t even know where to apply next or what career to pursue. But you weren’t worried like you had expected to be.

Bucky taught you to take risks, to not fear the unknown because things will eventually fall into place. You felt good though, that you were slowly learning to step out of your comfort zone. But something was amiss and you knew what it was. Or who it was.

You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

It was around nine in the evening when you went to the grocery store for a last minute shopping decision. Wanda was coming over for a movie night and apparently, you didn’t have any snacks left.

Finishing your list, you turned at the corner of an aisle and collided with somebody. Your apology died on your tongue when you looked up to see a familiar face.

Steve.

“Hi.” You softly greeted, wondering if he would even remember you.

He frowned at you and you were surprised that he remembered you and actually knew about that night.

“Why’d you leave Bucky just like that?” He asked right away.

You swallowed and avoided his gaze, “It was...it’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyway.” You lied through your teeth.

Steve scoffed, “It didn’t seem like a one-time thing when Bucky came to our rehearsals the next day feeling bummed out.” He explained and sighed afterwards, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m in no position to interfere. I don’t know you and why you did that so who am I to judge? But I know Bucky. He isn’t what you think he is.” Steve said.

“I know.” You whispered.

“Then why’d you leave?” Steve asked again but didn’t wait for a response.

“Bucky may come off a little too strong, he’s straightforward and passionate. He gives it his all and that night with you...he gave everything. He was really hurt when you left.”

You were unable to speak because fuck, you messed up big time. You didn’t know that Bucky was going to feel that way when you left. You got scared and ran away even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Steve must have noticed your guilt and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“We’re playing tonight at the music bar. You have the chance to make things right.” Steve said and offered you a small smile before leaving.

You stood in the grocery store while in deep thoughts. Again, your mind was all kinds of messed up and your thoughts were fighting for dominance. There were sirens going on and off and fuck, it was all driving you insane. Your heart began to race when you felt an impending sense of doom wash over you. You were panicking and you were fighting so hard to calm your nerves.

And then you remembered Bucky that night and how he was quick to silence your brain with a simple yet comforting gesture.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

A thumb on your forehead to soothe your worries. Those steel blue eyes providing you comfort, and that charming smile that never failed to reassure you.

You quickly called Wanda.

“Movie night is cancelled!”

The dimly lit music bar welcomed you with a sense of familiarity. It had been more than a week since your encounter with Bucky and yet it felt like it was only yesterday.

Smiling to yourself, you remembered how tensed you were when Bucky first approached you. You were so defensive, you had your walls built up high but Bucky managed to bring them down. It didn’t even take him the full twelve hours to do so.

The music bar was full with no vacant spot near the stage. The current band just finished their song and was preparing to exit. You squeezed your way to the front, ignoring the complaints of people you slightly pushed away. A familiar voice greeted the crowd a good evening before introducing their band.

Your breath hitched when you spotted Bucky onstage. His hair was down and he was sporting a little bit of scruff. You watched him play his guitar but something was different. He wasn’t as passionate as he used to be, like he wasn’t focused. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. And his eyes, they were empty and void of any emotion. No mischievous glint in them, no nothing.

It broke your heart seeing Bucky like this, especially that you knew you were the reason for it.

It took a while for Bucky to look up and scan the crowd and when he finally did, his eyes immediately met yours.

Just like the first time, you felt your face heat up from the eye contact. Bucky was surprised to see you, you saw how his eyes widened at the sight of you. He was quick to recover though, he looked away and focused on playing the guitar instead.

As soon as his band exited the stage, you wasted no time to approach them. Steve greeted you with a nod before calling for Nat and Sam, asking for them accompany him to the bar to give you some privacy. Bucky refused to look at you as he gathered his stuff, preparing to leave.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“I’m heading home.” Bucky curtly responded and brushed past you.

The tables have turned with you walking ahead of him to block his way.

“The night is young, stay a while and keep me company?” You used his line and Bucky was having none of it.

He scoffed and shook his head, “I’m surprised you remembered what I said. I mean, after you just disappeared I assumed you’d completely forgotten about that night.”

“I didn’t.” You told him. “Can we please talk?” You pleaded.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I really wanna go home.” He said.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, “Give me twelve minutes.” You offered.

“Just twelve minutes of your time. Please, Bucky.”

The two of you stepped outside the bar for some silence. Bucky walked over to his bike, leaning against it as he looked at you coldly. Those eyes used to gaze at you with warmth, but now they were blank and cold.

“Time is ticking.” He said when you kept mum.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.” You said, looking down at your feet.

How else were you going to say your piece? You had practiced your speech on the way to the bar and now that Bucky was in front of you, you couldn’t even look at him from shame.

Bucky scoffed, “You asked me for twelve minutes and that’s all you’re gonna say? You’re sorry? Just that?” He bitterly chuckled, running a hand over his scruff.

“If you didn’t mean it then why did you leave? You left me without any warning. I honestly thought there was something between us. After everything that happened, how could you just walk away like that? You led me on, didn’t you?” Bucky angrily asked.

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t but I got scared!” You admitted.

“Scared of what?” He asked. “Scared of me? Because I’m not the kind of guy you usually go for? You really couldn’t get rid of that first impression, huh?” He said and turned around.

“That’s not the reason why. Everything scared me because that night was something else. You were too good to be true, Bucky! That’s what scared me!” You told him.

Bucky turned around, his brows creased, “What?”

When you woke up that morning, everything seemed perfect. The past twelve hours you had spent with Bucky were wonderful and you loved every second of it. You enjoyed too much and the thought of it being a one-time thing really broke your heart.

You had attachment issues and you thought that giving in to Bucky would help you learn to enjoy things as they were. But it didn’t and made it even worse because you got attached, so fucking attached.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending those twelve hours with a permanent goodbye so I left. You suddenly talked about next time and tomorrow and it was...it was overwhelming for me. My fear got the best of me because that night was too good. You were too good.”

Bucky’s expression softened after hearing your side. Now you felt stupid for overthinking things. It was selfish on your part to assume that those twelve hours meant nothing to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized softly. “That night meant everything to me, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to find out whether it meant the same to you.” You confessed with a sigh.

Bucky stayed quiet after your confession. You could feel your bile rising, you wanted to throw up. Hell, you wanted to just faint and forget about everything. If Bucky wouldn’t give you a second chance, you’d understand him. You did a pretty shitty thing to him anyway.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You lifted your gaze upon hearing that line. Bucky’s eyes had their warmth back and his expression was no longer stoic. He pushed himself away from his bike and approached you, reaching out to soothe the crease on your forehead.

“It’s not everyday that I find myself in the company of a stranger who made me feel things. I’ve always been a traditional one, I take things slow and I’ve been very careful. When I felt something during those twelve hours, I was caught off guard. I never felt so strongly for someone I just met and it was all new to me and I panicked.” You confessed.

“You were out of my comfort zone and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Bucky.”

You were met with pure silence after your admission. When you looked up at Bucky, you couldn’t read his expression. Thinking that he wasn’t buying your explanation, you let out a bitter chuckle and shrugged.

“I guess that’s it. Twelve minutes. No more no less. I just wanted you to know that, Bucky. And I’m really, really sorry.” You said and slowly backed away, ready to leave.

“Hey.” Bucky called out, approaching you.

“If I asked you to spend the next twelve hours with me again, where would you go after?” He asked.

Was this a test? You didn’t know how to respond and Bucky seemed to have caught up on that and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Will you stay until the morning this time?” He asked. “‘Cause I was pretty disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed. I had our brunch planned out, you know?”

The mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes was back. You bit back a smile when Bucky cradled your head into his palm, thumb circling the skin on your neck.

You timidly nodded, tilting your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a searing kiss that promised you another twelve hours together. And more.

“No more running off in the morning.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

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#bbb writes #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #sebastian stan

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze.

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to.

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away.

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best.

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head.

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.”

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak.

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap.

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding.

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying.

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him.

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job.

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck.

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you’re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again.

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones.

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly.

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?”

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.”

#draco malfoy #draco #malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x female reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #hufflepuff #slytherpuff #slytherin

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

self-help

y'all liked my first fic, so here is another!

TW: Blood and injury; wound descriptions

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“Are you all alright?” Alcina asked, looking over each of the three creatures assembled in front of her. The blonde was slightly roughed up, but still stood up tall; the brunette bore a particularly nasty cut across her cheek, though it didn’t seem to bother her; and the redhead was slathered in man blood from getting to kill the intruder that had foolishly entered their castle and tried to murder them.

“Yes, Mother,” the blonde said, always quick to answer Alcina.

Alcina nodded. She looked at her other two daughters. “And you two?”

“I’m okay,” the redhead chirped. She seemed delighted to have killed something that day.

The brunette lightly touched the cut on her cheek, winced, then nodded, “I’m fine. It isn’t that bad.”

“We should still make sure any of that man-thing’s filth didn’t get into you,” Alcina said. She opened an arm and began guiding her middle child down one of the hallways. “Daniela, do what you will with the body. You’ve earned it.”

The redhead perked up, beaming, and bounded down a different hallway to where the corpse of the man had been left. Once she was gone, only the blonde was left behind in the foyer, and the girl instantly doubled over with a moan of pain, holding her stomach.

“Fuck,” Bela hissed. She was lucky for the dark material of her dress or else the blood seeping through the fabric would have easily been seen by her mother and sisters, and worrying them was the last thing she wanted. It was her own fault that she was shot. There were better things for them to focus on, anyway. Like Cassandra’s cut! Yes, that was definitely more important. She didn’t need any help.

Bela stepped forward and immediately crumpled to her knees when a spasm of pain rippled through her stomach. She bit down firmly to keep from crying out and tasted blood when her teeth pierced her tongue. Usually, the metallic tang would be rather appetizing, but something about it right now made her guts churn and twist up into knots, which definitely didn’t help her discomfort.

Kneeling, still holding her stomach, Bela rocked back and forth while taking several calming breaths. Breathing deeply furthered the strain in her stomach, while not breathing at all just made her chest hurt- she couldn’t win. All she could do was grit her teeth and bear with it like she did with everything. Don’t be a burden, don’t be a burden.

“Lady Bela?”

Bela looked up. A wiry, ash brown-haired maid was lingering at the opening of one of the cavernous hallways, shifting on her feet. Her dark amber eyes displayed nervousness, curiosity, and worry. The last emotion wasn’t an uncommon thing to see, at least towards Bela. Because of her general politeness to the castle workers, they tended to show more concern over her. The perks of not killing them for no reason, she supposed.

“Yes?” Bela said, forcing her voice to stay level and not quaver beneath the fiery edge of her own agony. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she especially didn’t want to cause a scene in front of a maid. That was almost as bad as her sisters seeing her in such a state--though, for what it was worth, the maids wouldn’t tease her endlessly.

“Are you alright?” the maid asked, taking a small step forward. She was looking Bela up and down, most likely searching for any wounds, and Bela once again thanked Mother Miranda for black fabric.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Bela answered. At the same moment, however, a second wave of pain roared through her and her vision was suddenly spotted by black snow. Did someone open the window? And how long had snow been black? None of her books ever said anything about this…

“Lady Bela?”

Bela blinked harshly, and the storm disappeared. No windows were open. Snow was not black. The maid got closer.

“Ahh--” Bela swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” The maid seemed to be trying to hold herself together. She was probably fearing for her own life if something happened to one of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters under her watch. Bela would prefer to not have this one die, as she was nice enough to actually check on her instead of ignoring the situation like other maids would, even if Bela denied her physical state when she asked how she was.

“Yes, yes,” Bela said, nodding. “I’m alright. Just…stomach cramps?”

The maid blinked. “Do you even go through a menstrual cycle?”

Bela splayed her fingers open with a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

The maid actually laughed, which was a rare thing to happen. But the laughter was quickly cut off when her eyes focused on something, clouding over with concern, and Bela realized she was staring at her hands.

There was blood on her hands.

Her blood.

Bela balled her fists and cleared her throat. She looked up at the maid. “Go.”

The maid opened her mouth, but thought against whatever she was planning on saying, not wanting to test Bela’s civility--not that Bela would have hurt her if she had stuck around to speak whatever was on her mind. She dipped her head and scurried off, glancing over her shoulder as she went.

Bela sighed. She wiped her hands on a part of her dress that wasn’t damp. She needed to do something about her problem before her mother or one of her sisters found out.

Standing up was difficult, and Bela was sure Cassandra or Daniela, most likely both, would have teased her if they saw her like this. When she began to walk, she felt blood slither in slow trails down her legs, itching her skin. She fought the urge to scratch until she made it to the privacy of her bedroom, then instantly began shredding her dress with her claws, throwing the tatters of wet fabric to the floor to be picked up later. Once the gown was off, she turned to her mirror to inspect the damage.

Red. The entire front of her body was smeared in red. And beneath the red, there were holes, some as small as her pinky, some as big as a coin, each even darker than the blood and packed full of shrapnel.

Bela had been a fool to go after the man-thing on her own. As reckless and wild as Cassandra and Daniela were with their fighting, they were strong, much stronger than she was. She had seen them withstand vicious stabs and strikes and shots that would have killed any normal person and keep slashing their claws as if nothing had happened, but it took a blast from a shotgun to put her down. She was so blinded by the idea of killing the intruder to impress her mother that she didn’t even think to create an actual plan until she became well-acquainted with leaden bullet chunks against her midsection.

The buckshot was evenly spread out along her abdomen, and maybe it could have passed as paint splattered all over her body if it wasn’t for the malevolent grey peeking out from liquid red. There was a particularly large cluster of holes on her left side, where an entire chunk of meat had been blown free from her waist, but they reached all the way over to her navel and up to the underside of her chest. The bullet pieces were the seeds of her agony, and she desperately needed to reap them from her flesh.

Bela began rummaging through one of her drawers, straining the lead lodged in her skin, and pulled out an old cotton gown she hadn’t worn in years. She walked over to the rocking chair in the corner near the window and sat down. She loved this chair, and it was a shame that it was going to be bled all over, but wood was easier to clean than cloth. She didn’t want to risk staining her bed right now.

Biting down on the gown, Bela began going over the buckshot. There were eighteen holes in total, all of them full of lead. She nearly miscounted a few times because she thought some of them were empty, but then realized the bullets were just buried in her tissue. There was one in particular that she didn’t even see, but could feel shifting around beneath her flesh like a hungry maggot. It made her stomach roil in disgust.

This was not going to be fun.

Bela’s hands were shaking as she brought them down to her stomach. Simply brushing the skin sent waves of torture shivering through her nerves, and she didn’t even want to think about what it was going to feel like to actually remove the slugs, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t just leave them inside of her.

Taking a deep breath and biting down hard on the gown, Bela stuck her pointer finger and thumb into one of the holes. Instantly, her vision flashed black, then red, and then white, and she was sure she had passed out for a few eternal seconds. Even when she pried her eyes back open, all she saw was a messy mishmash of swirling colors, and she wondered if she had somehow gone blind. But then sight slowly oozed back to her, and she was able to see the grotesque image of her fingers stretching the edges of a bullet hole.

She swallowed down acidic bile and grasped the sides of the piece of lead.

For a moment, the stubborn little thing didn’t want to come out, and Bela began to fear that it was just a part of her now, forever fused with her flesh, burrowed within her like a leaden parasite, but then it popped out with a small spew of blood and she was able to catch her breath. She dropped the ball, which was no bigger than her pinky finger, and watched it bounce across the floor before rolling beneath her bed. She would get it later. Right now, she had its stupid siblings to deal with.

Breathing in deeply again, clamping down on the gown like before, Bela dug her fingers into a second hole that looked easy enough to scoop out. And it was, surprisingly. The blood proved to be a helpful lubricant and the bullet slid right out when she tugged, not bothering to put up a fight. She peered at it for a moment, squinting her watery eyes.

“You are an asshole,” she spat.

The bullet winked at her in response, the bright red blood coating its surface catching on the light inside the room and making it twinkle like a ruby. She flicked it away, and it left a line of crimson across her polished floors. She would clean that up later, too.

Third time’s a charm. Bela prepared herself again, breathing in and biting down, and dove into the next hole.

She didn’t know why she thought the process of pulling out bullets would suddenly be easier just because she succeeded with the first two. She was an idiot when she had gotten shot and she was an idiot now, trying to rid herself from the consequence of her actions.

Her claws slipped on the slickness of her blood and accidentally pushed the bullet in deeper.

Bela would have screamed if it weren’t for the blood that crawled up her throat, clogging her esophagus. She coughed, thinking that the bullet was going to come out of her mouth, and red splattered across her bare chest, staining her bra. Tears sprang to her eyes and poured down her cheeks. Her shaking hands hovered over the hole, but she couldn’t see the slug anywhere.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Bela muttered. Did she push it so deep it breached one of her organs? What would happen if it did? How was she going to get it out?

She tried to stretch the edges of the wound, but stopped when she nearly threw up from the pain. She sobbed. What was she going to do? Bela leaned back against the chair, causing it to rock slowly. Maybe she could just leave the bullets inside of her. They probably wouldn’t kill her. She and her sisters were able to endure more than normal creatures could, so it would probably just be very uncomfortable. For the rest of her life.

She swallowed blood and bile. Having to spend the rest of eternity like this didn’t sound very appealing. In fact, it sounded like the complete opposite of appealing. Unappealing.

A sound snapped Bela out of her muddled thoughts; the doorknob was wiggling. Someone was coming into her room.

Lunging forward, nearly slipping on a tiny puddle of her blood, Bela slammed the door shut before it could be opened completely and pressed her weight against it. From the other side, she heard a noise of surprise.

“Bela? What is the meaning of this?”

Her heart sank into her bullet-infested insides. It was her mother. She just slammed the door in her mother’s face. Oh, she was in for it now.

Bela nearly opened up right then and there and got down on her knees to apologize, but one glance down at her horribly-scathed body made her think better of it. She had told Alcina that she was fine, and now she needed to live up to it, even if she felt like she was being swarmed and eaten by her own insects. She had to swallow down her hopeless devotion to her mother to keep her from worrying over her.

“Sorry,” Bela said, hoping her voice wasn’t wavering as much as she thought it was. “I, uhh-- I thought you were Cassandra or Daniela. They always barge into my room without knocking. I don’t appreciate it very much.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but she still didn’t feel good about making up an excuse.

From out in the hallway, Alcina was quiet for a moment, and Bela wondered if she was going to break down the door and let herself in. But then she chuckled and said, “I see. I remember the time you tried to set traps for them when they kept interrupting your reading time.”

Bela laughed, which morphed into a groan of pain when her stomach strained. SHe masked it with a cough, then replied, “They were good traps!”

“Darling, you set up a board full of nails for them to step on.”

“My point still stands.”

“And a tripwire that would trigger a pot to swing into their face and knock them out.”

“You got to admit that it was pretty impressive that I was able to make that.”

Alcina chuckled again. “Yes, you have always been my most resourceful little one.”

Bela’s chest warmed with pride. The praise momentarily made her forget about the pain she was in.

“Now, can you let me in? I need to talk to you.”

And like that, the pain was back, the soothing warmth chased off by icy cold dread. Did her mother know? Did that maid snitch on her? She swallowed thickly.

“Umm-- can’t we just talk like this? It’s just as effective.”

“I would prefer it if I was able to see you when I speak to you,” Alcina said. She paused for a moment. “Why can’t I come in?”

“I’m-- I’m naked.”

Also wasn’t a lie, technically.

Alcina was quiet for a moment.

“Bela, I watched you come out of a mass of insects as naked as a babe. I do not think there’s anything left to be seen that I don’t know about already.”

You’d be surprised, Bela thought, looking down at her marred form.

“It’s-- it’s just embarrassing for me!”

Alcina sighed. “Then why don’t you put some clothes on?”

Realizing she wasn’t going to get out of this conversation, Bela said, “Right! Okay!” And then began scrambling for something to wear. The exertion made the two empty bullet holes pucker like hungry mouths and drool out even more blood that drizzled down her legs like snakes. She didn’t have time to clean herself up, so she just threw on the first gown she could reach in one of her drawers--a dark blue one she had sewn herself--wiped her hands off, kicked the tattered black dress under the bed, and smeared the blood on the floor until it couldn’t be seen against the hardwood. Then, she put on the most believable, while also innocent expression of normalcy and opened her door.

“My lady,” she said with a wide sweeping motion of her arm, trying to be funny, trying to hide the fact that she was in immense pain and simply being on her feet made her lightheaded, trying not to worry her mother.

Alcina didn’t laugh at her joke. She seemed rather suspicious as she ducked into the room--not that Bela really blamed her. She was definitely being very suspicious.

“What did you want to talk about?” Bela asked, looking up at her mother.

Alcina looked around her room, but Bela had been smart enough to clean the floors. Not well, but they were clean. When she found nothing, she studied Bela, and Bela held herself as she usually did--maybe a bit too formally.

“I just wanted to check on you all after the attack,” Alcina finally answered, meeting her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mother,” Bela said, and she hated lying to Alcina, but she didn’t have a choice. She hated being a burden even more and that was all she was going to be if Alcina found out about her wounds.

“Are you sure?” Alcina narrowed her eyes at her.

“Yes, Mother,” Bela repeated. Then, trying to change the subject, she asked, “How is Cassandra?”

“She’s okay,” Alcina answered. “She will heal. The cut wasn’t very deep.”

“And Daniela?”

“Feasting. I wouldn’t go near her if I were you. She may just maim you and add you to her meal.” A smile came to Alcina’s lips, and Bela let herself laugh.

Unfortunately, that laughter quickly turned to coughing as her body seized with pain. She tasted blood as the bullets seemed to rattle within her, flesh clenching down around lead. She wiped her mouth before pulling her hand away.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Alcina didn’t respond for a moment. Her entire face was knitted with great concern, and Bela already felt bad for worrying her.

“Bela, are you sure you are alright?”

For a fourth time that day: “Yes, Mother.”

Alcina wasn’t going to let it go that easily, it seemed, because she questioned further: “Have you caught a chill?” She walked over and pressed a hand to Bela’s forehead. Bela couldn’t help but lean into it, always eager to be touched by her mother. “You shouldn’t be coughing like that.”

“I just had a tickle in my throat.”

“I don’t like being lied to, Bela.”

Bela’s resolve nearly broke beneath her mother’s stern gaze, but she kept her facade from falling through sheer willpower alone. She said, “I’m not.”

Alcina’s eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand back and went to say something when she appeared to slip on something. Steadying herself, she looked down at the ground, and Bela’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what exactly her mother had staggered on.

Alcina bent over and picked up the buckshot.

Bela didn’t let her panic show on her face as Alcina examined the tiny lead ball. Its siblings, still lodged deep in her stomach, seemed to giggle at the predicament she was ensnared in when a fresh bout of pain quivered through her nerves. She stayed calm as flashing yellow eyes slid back over to her.

“Bela,” Alcina said slowly, and Bela already didn’t like the tone she was using. “What is this?”

Bela considered playing dumb, but then she remembered that she was the smart, bookish one. She could use her multitude of knowledge as an excuse.

“That’s buckshot, Mother. It comes from a shotgun. Did you know that they have enough firepower to blow a head off? It’s because it has several bullets in one shot instead of a singular one, which means more power behind each blast.”

Alcina held a hand up and Bela instantly shut her mouth.

“Why do you have it?” Alcina asked.

“I was studying it,” Bela answered. It was believable enough. It did sound like something she would do, but Alcina didn’t seem very convinced.

“Your blood is on this, Bela,” Alcina said. “Why is your blood on this bullet?”

“I-- I--” Bela’s act was beginning to crumble.

Alcina turned to her completely, clenching the buckshot in her fist. “Were you shot?”

“Mother, I--”

“Were you shot?”

“Yes,” Bela blurted, unable to hide it anymore. “But-- but it isn’t that--”

“Show me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Bela Dimitrescu, show me where you are hurt. Now.”

Flinching at her mother’s severe tone, Bela removed her dress and revealed the mess on her stomach and chest. When she heard Alcina gasp, she quickly said, “It isn’t that bad. You don’t have to worry about me, Mother. I can take care of it.”

“You fool!” Alcina exploded, and Bela flinched away. “What were you thinking?! Why would you hide this from me?!”

“I-- I thought I could--” Bela was having a hard time collecting her words. If there was one thing she really hated, it was when people raised their voices, even if it wasn’t directed towards her. When Cassandra and Daniela would get into fights, she always left the room and got as far away as possible so she wouldn’t have to hear them yelling. But, as bad as their shouting was, it was nothing compared to their mother when she was worked up.

“I--”

“I asked you if you were alright!” Alcina roared on. “If you were okay! You said you were! And then I come in here and find you with bullets in your flesh?!” She shook her head, nearly dislodging her hat from her head. “What do you have to say for yourself, Bela?”

Personally? Bela really wished they weren’t having this conversation when she didn’t have a shirt on.

Dipping her head shamefully, the only thing that Bela could manage was a pathetic, “I’m sorry, Mother.”

“Why can’t you just let me help you for once?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Bela confessed. “Or worry you.”

Alcina sighed and rubbed her face slowly. “Bela, I am more worried and disappointed because you hid this from me.”

Bela could only squeak out a feeble, “Oh.”

Alcina knelt down in front of her and lifted her chin. “Honey, why would I be disappointed in you for coming to me for help?”

Bela couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes. “Because-- because I got hurt. And I shouldn’t have. I’m a shitty fighter and got shot and I should have been stronger.”

“Your strength has nothing to do with this,” Alcina said. “Cassandra got hurt too, you know.”

“Cassandra probably didn’t care.”

“I beg to differ. You should have seen her while I was rubbing honey into her wound. She was wiggling around like a little worm!”

Bela laughed slightly, then whimpered immediately after. Alcina glanced at her bullet-filled body, then cupped her cheeks.

“Do you know what I would have done if you had died from these wounds?”

Bela tried not to look at her.

“I would have done everything in my power to get you back to me. I would tear down the sun and moon for you, my darling.” There was so much love in Alcina’s words, so much tenderness and care. Bela was drawn to it. “Please tell me you will come to me next time something happens. I cannot fathom the thought of you being in any more pain.”

Whether or not she actually would when the time came, Bela nodded. Alcina smiled at her warmly and placed a kiss against her forehead.

“That’s my good girl,” she said. “Now…” Her eyes slid down to the bullet wounds. “To handle this.”

“I tried to get them out myself,” Bela said. “I promise I tried. I got two out, but then-- but I couldn’t--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her hair. “You tried. That’s all that matters. But I am so proud of you, darling. It must not have been easy.”

Bela shook her head with a whimper.

“Alright,” Alcina stood up straight. “Come on. Lay on your bed. We need to get those little devils out of you.”

Bela didn’t disobey. She had already disobeyed enough for one day. She crawled onto her bed, whimpering each time her body bent in a way the bullets disagreed with. They felt like festering parasites inside her stomach. She was lightheaded.

“Mama,” she moaned. She was the last to stop calling Alcina such a thing. Cassandra was first, then Daniela, and when they both heard her still referring to their mother in that way, they teased her. While it had been done playfully, it was still enough to embarrass Bela and get her to stop to avoid risking further humiliation. But now she didn’t even care. She was far too uncomfortable to care about anything her sisters had to say.

“Mama…”

Alcina caressed the side of her face. “I’m right here, baby. Lay back for me.

Bela, as loyal as a hound, did as she was told. Her head rested against one of her fluffy pillows, but it did little to stop the room from spinning like a top. She looked over at Alcina anxiously, but her mother had an expression of focus and calm.

“Alright, my dove,” Alcina said, cupping one of her clammy, pallid cheeks. “I need you to lay as still as possible for me. Do you think you can do that?”

Bela nodded feebly.

“Very good. I’m going to start now, alright? Just stay still and breathe. I’ll work as quickly as I can.”

Another nod.

“Here I go.”

Even with the warning, Bela’s body still jolted when she felt the sharp stab of her mother’s claws against one of the bullet holes. Her eyes snapped open, but she was blind for several seconds before details bled back into awareness. To her own credit, she managed to keep from crying out, but only because she clenched her jaw so hard she chipped one of her fangs. Cassandra and Danieal were definitely going to tease her over that later, but it was the least of her problems at the moment.

The third bullet slid out with relative ease, lubricated by her blood, and, Mother Miranda, she was only just realizing she had fifteen more to go.

“One down,” Alcina said, flicking the buckshot to the floor. She lifted Bela’s chin to examine her broken tooth. “Hmm. It’ll grow back, don’t worry. It didn’t chip that much.”

“I was using a gown,” Bela said, her words coming out wheezy and weak. “To bite down on.” She pointed to the dress left on the rocking chair. “Can I use it again?”

Alcina followed her hand, spotting the bundle of fabric. “Oh, clever girl!” she praised, rubbing Bela’s head. She picked up the gown and gave it to Bela. “As I said before: you are my bright little daughter.”

Bela smiled shyly before biting down on the gown. She gave her mother an affirmative look to begin again.

The next three bullets went out smoothly--or as smoothly as little masses of lead wedged in sensitive tissue and muscle could be. But then Alcina got to one of the deeper slugs and it didn’t come out when tugged on, causing Bela to cry out and jerk away.

“Breathe, darling,” Alcina said, settling her back on her back when she tried to roll over. “Breathe. It’s alright. This one is a little deeper. A lot of them are going to be, but I need you to stay still and stay calm for me. Can you do that?”

“I-- I don’t know,” Bela said honestly.

Alcina frowned. She stroked her face, wiping away tears. “I know you can. You’re strong, Bela, regardless of what you think. And just know that I am so proud of you.”

Bela reached up to grab her mother’s hand. She pressed into the warm palm like a kitten seeking heat in the middle of a winter storm. Finally, she relented, “Okay.”

“Thank you, darling,” Alcina crooned. She went to return to her work, but Bela didn’t release her hand. “I need you to let me go, Bela.”

Bela was unwilling to part with the warmth, so Alcina did it herself, easily peeling her fingers away. She touched her cheek tenderly for a moment before saying, “Bite down and breathe, baby. I’m starting again.”

Bela did as she was told, grinding her teeth into the gown as claws returned to her sore stomach. She flinched, but didn’t try to squirm away again, grounding herself by grasping handfuls of the sheets beneath her.

Seven, eight, nine, ten… Alcina worked diligently, expertly removing the buckshot from Bela’s body. When she got to the eleventh one and it proved to be rather reluctant to leave its host, she stopped for a moment to give Bela time to breathe and prepare herself.

“You’re doing so good,” Alcina cooed, stroking Bela’s hair, which was wet with cold sweat. Bela had started to tremble at some point, though she didn’t exactly know when, but she hoped it wasn’t making the bullet removal harder than it already was.

“Mama,” Bela mewled. “It hurts…”

“I know,” Alcina hushed her. “I know. I’m almost done. Just eight more to go.”

“Hurry-- hurry--” Bela panted.

“Are you sure? You can wait a moment longer to catch your breath.”

Bela shook her head. “Please.”

Alcina pursed her lips, then nodded. “Alright. Here I go.”

Bela braced herself.

“Eleven…”

Bela breathed.

“Twelve…”

Bela bit down.

“Thirteen…”

Bela--

Bela screamed.

Bela screamed because the fourteenth bullet was buried deep within her flesh, burrowed in her warmth like a maggot in a corpse. She kicked out her legs and tried to yell for Alcina to stop, but blood mixed with bile lurched up the back of her throat and her mouth was clogged with fluids. Alcina ripped out the pellet with enough force to slit the edges of the hole with her claws, threw it to the floor, and then lifted Bela’s head so she wouldn’t inhale her own blood and choke. Bela coughed, staining her chest in a fresh layer of red.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her thumb with her cheek. “Nothing to apologize for, darling. You’re doing very well. We’re so close to finishing.”

Bela looked at her, breathing heavily, her throat thick with blood. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded weakly. Alcina set her head back down on the pillow.

“Here we go, my sweet. Just a little longer.”

But Bela wasn’t able to handle it when the fifteenth was removed. She grabbed her mother by the wrist when she reached for the sixteenth one, clinging tightly.

“No more, no more--” Bela begged.

Alcina frowned. “I have to get them out, baby. You’re so close.”

Bela shook her head. “No, no-- can’t we-- can’t we just leave them in?”

“Bela. You’re smarter than that. You know we can’t.”

“But-- but it hurts,” Bela wept. “I can’t-- I can’t take it anymore. Please, Mama. Please just stop .”

Above her, Alcina looked incredibly worried. She ran her bloody claws through Bela’s hair, soothing her.

“I have to,” Alcina said. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Bela sobbed, but didn’t stop her.

With a cruel yank, the sixteenth bullet dislodged with a spit of blood. Bela shredded the sheets beneath her.

The seventeenth took some digging, with her mother stretching the tender edges of the hole with one hand, picking out flesh with the other. She nearly threw up at the disgusting squelching sounds that filled the air, but managed to save herself from the humiliation by swallowing hard.

The eighteenth, the one she had accidentally pushed in deeper, was the worst. It was like having a hot knife thrust into her soft stomach over and over again. She shivered with pain and blood loss as she felt the bullet being tugged on in her ragged flesh. It was a sickening friction of skin sucking against the force of her mother’s claws. She didn’t even know if it came out fully because her eyes rolled to the back of her head and everything went black.

——— ——— ———

Wiping her claws of blood, Alcina frowned down at her eldest daughter. Bela was unconscious. It seemed the pain was finally too much for her little body. Though, she made it all the way to the end. Alcina was expecting her to pass out a lot sooner.

And she said she wasn’t strong.

Scooping her up into her arms, Alcina carried Bela to her bedroom, telling a maid to clean up the bloody mess left behind. Once inside her chambers, she ran Bela a hot bath, washing her of all the blood that stained her body. The warm water seemed to rouse her daughter because shiny amber eyes peeked out from under heavy eyelids as she was cleaning out her hair.

“Mama,” Bela breathed out.

Alcina smiled at her lovingly. “Hello, my sweet.”

Bela looked around sluggishly. She seemed dazed. “I’m… huh?”

“You passed out,” Alcina informed her.

“The buckshot…?”

“All out,” Alcina reached out to caress her cheek. “It’s over. You did it. I’m so proud of you, baby girl.”

Bela, always wanting affection, pressed into her hand. “Finally…”

Alcina chuckled. “I’m just going to finish washing all this blood off and then you can lay back down. You need lots of rest to heal.”

“Can you…?”

Alcina smiled again. Her heart swelled with adoration and love towards her daughter.

“Yes, I will lay with you.”

Bela had definitely earned it.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #resident evil fanfic #self-help #tw: blood #tw: wounds

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