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piratesfromspace · 3 years

Text

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw. Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are.

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

#deckard shaw #deckard shaw x reader #female reader #fast and furious #hobbs and shaw #deckard shaw fanfiction #hobbs and shaw fanfiction #deckard shaw / reader #jason statham #jason statham imagine #smut #hobbs and shaw smut #deckard shaw reader insert #fast and furious fanfiction

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sunonyoreface · 2 years

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Frank Castle - A Week at the Cabin Pt. 2 - Cold Water

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

TW: swimming in a lake

Word Count: 987

AN: Fluff, going to be a series of fluff because I love fluff and there isn’t enough of it.

“You shouldn’t have, Frank,” he sets the last bag of luggage down beside the couch. Despite his injuries, he’d never let me bring them all in on my own.

“What kind of man would I be if I watched you carry them in without helping?” his tone is teasing, but he means every word.

“An injured one,” I reply.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, but his posture says otherwise. He leans against the couch for support and his breathing is heavier than normal. Frank tries to hide it, but I know he’s in pain.

“No, you’re not. Have you seen your eye?” the black eye from last night. It’s bruised a deep purple that almost looks blue and has swollen so much that I don’t know how he sees out of it.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Let me grab you an ice pack,” my hands rummage through the cooler, pushing aside water bottles and granola bars and a couple bags of chips. On the other side are some eggs, vegetables and buns, but I don’t see the ice packs. My brows furrow. I could’ve sworn I packed two of them, yet they aren’t there.

“I don’t see them,” I mumble under my breath. A flustered feeling of incompetence balls up in my stomach.

“I’ll be okay,” Frank limps over as I crouch above the cooler. His hand reassuringly rubs my shoulder. “Really.”

“I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Hey,” he says. His hand moves to my head where he lightly pets my hair. The back of his index finger brushes against the top of my ear and then down my cheek. “It’s okay,” his voice is gentle.

“Okay.”

“I can think of a few other ways to cool down,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what?”

“How about a swim?”

“In the lake?” my voice rises in disbelief.

“Of course in the lake,” he laughs.

“Frank, it’s October,” I glance out the window towards the water. It’s calm and picturesque, but I’m not deceived. “It’s gonna be freezing!”

“Isn’t that what you want? It’ll be good for the swelling.”

“Fine, but you’re going in on your own.”

“Like hell I am,” he rubs a hand across the back of his neck and a smirk crosses his lips. “You’re coming with me.”

“Absolutely not,” I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of his suggestion.

“Why not?”

“Cause, Frank it’ll be freezing!”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he pulls me up into his arms.

“That so?”

“Always.”

“Okay,” I can’t help but smile as he pulls me in for a kiss. The scruff along his jaw lightly brushes against my skin. There’s nowhere else I feel safer than in his arms.

Although I didn’t think we’d use them, I did pack swimsuits. My habit of overpacking has paid off more than it’s failed, however, this time I wonder if I should’ve left the swimwear at home. He probably would’ve convinced me to go in anyway.

We stand barefoot on the wooden dock in just our swimsuits. The sun slowly sets on the west side of the horizon creating a vibrant display of colours that reflect off the water. Although it’s warm for an October evening, it’s too cold to be out here without clothes.

I reach for Frank’s hand. Our fingers intertwine and he lightly rubs his calloused thumb along the outside of my index finger.

“On three?” I ask.

“On three,” he confirms.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Thr-” he wraps his arms around me, pulling us both into the frigid water. I’m immediately sent into shock. Every muscle involuntarily clenches at the extreme cold. Adrenaline quickly takes over, dulling the bad sensations and heightening the good ones. Endorphins flood my brain and I almost forget Frank is there. He reaches the bottom before I do, but when we meet again, I’m greeted by a squinty smile.

As we break the surface, my arms reach around Frank’s broad shoulders. He brushes the wet hair away from my face and then pulls me closer. He kisses me. It’s warm and wet and makes the cold water even more jarring. I can’t help the involuntary shivers that overtake me.

“Frank, it’s really fucking cold,”

“It’s not that bad,” he says, but I can feel him begin to shake too.

“You sure?” he chuckles.

“No, you’re right,” he cups my cheek and brushes away some water droplets with his thumb. He presses his lips to the tip of my nose and then my lips again.

“Let’s go warm up,” the full-body shivers shake my voice. The beach doesn’t have much for sand. Instead, it's mostly made of rounded pebbles whose edges are worn away after years of erosion. Frank sometimes reminds me of those pebbles.

We race back to the cabin and I win only from the advantage of having zero stitches across my stomach. My hands are stiff and white and Frank’s skin is red all over from the cold. The exhilarating thrill is gone, leaving chilled bones and drippy noses.

Inside, I dive for the afghan hanging off the couch. It's soft but doesn’t warm me up as much as I’d hoped. Frank heads straight for the fireplace. He chops sliced wood into kindling and balls up some old newspapers.

“Can you grab me some matches?” his voice shakes and it makes me smile a little. I don’t think I’ve seen Frank Castle shiver before.

Stiff hands rustle through various drawers before coming across a box of wooden matches. “Here we go,” I whisper. I hurry back over to Frank who has a decent pile of small stove-lengths going. The hatchet in his hand in easily splits through the wood. He twists his wrist to split another piece, his veins trailing up his forearm. “Here.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

It only takes one match to get the fire going. Frank carefully feeds the kindling to the hungry flames, adding larger pieces as they grow. I place the back of a cold hand onto his cheek and he jolts his head away. A giggle bubbles from my chest.

“I’ll get ya for that one,” but he starts to chuckle too.

Once the fire’s strong, Frank’s full attention is on me. He pulls me into him, his skin already so much warmer than mine. We sit on a small carpet in front of the fire, basking in the radiating heat.

“How’re your hands?” his voice is quiet, tired. I hold them up for him to examine: they’re still white, the blood too cold to flow or something. “Nothing I can’t fix,” he sets them between his thighs and closes his legs. I’m too surprised to react at first, but the relief is almost immediate.

“I’m not gonna lie, Frank, I thought your mind was going somewhere else,” his brows slightly raise.

“It still can,” he teases. His hand comes to my face, large fingers tenderly stroking across my features, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Not right now. I barely slept last night, my hair’s a mess, and any makeup I had on washed off a long time ago,”

“You don’t need that shit,” he murmurs.

“Can you let go of my hands?” he moves his legs and my newly freed hands pull his face down to mine. I kiss him deeply, the warmth of his skin a comforting sensation. His strong arms pull me down on top of him as he lies on his back. Frank’s hands trace imaginary shapes along my bare skin. I wrap the knit blanket around the both of us. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head and that night I fall asleep with my head on his chest. A faint smell of smoke and pine and lake water fills the cabin. The fire crackles in the background, keeping us warm for the night.

#Frank Castle x reader #Frank Castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fluff #frank castle cabin #The Punisher imagine #the punisher fanfiction #jon bernthal #frank castle x you

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redorich · 3 years

Note

Eventually the Hermits get their hands on the one shulker box. They give it back a day later, filled with goodies as an apology for stealing, because they just needed it briefly so Doc could set up a shulker box duplicator.

(2/2) To expand on the shulker box ask I sent: It's cheating. They know it's cheating. They debate for a while over wether or not they should build it. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and dammit they need shulkers. Mules and Llamas can only get them so far.

---

(this takes place before the fic where puffy finds zedaph.)

---

The Hermits put up with mule highways and caravans of spitting llamas because they think they have no choice. At least one person complains about the lack of sophisticated storage transportation daily. Mumbo tries to create a system which will ferry items between bases, but it turns out to be more of a Rube Goldberg machine than anything, considering the items only travel at the speed of the water which carries them. Zedaph creates an actual Rube Goldberg machine for item transportation, but the only people who use it are himself and his neighbors, Impulse, False, and Tango. It’s more for prank transportation and snail mail anyway.

Things change when Stress, on a covert surface run, comes a bit too close to other humans on accident and catches sight of a blond man in a hoodie furtively checking his surroundings. Stress immediately does as she’s been trained, hiding herself behind tree cover and checking how long her invisibility potion will be in effect for. It says four minutes. As long as he leaves soon, she won’t have an issue.

The man surveys the muddy clearing with a keen eye, keeping watch for any evildoing interlopers. He places down an Ender chest, reaches his hands into it, then looks around once again to make sure no one’s there. Stress’s heart beats like a drum-- not the style of drums she usually plays, but rather the percussion of one of Xisuma’s favorite black metal bands. As the man’s gaze passes right over her, she feels the machine gun fire of her heart against her chest peak, breath catching in her throat.

He doesn’t see her. Quickly, he pulls something out of the Ender chest. A shulker box!

Stress’s breath stops for an entirely different reason. The things the Hermits could do with even one shulker box..! Item dupers are a thing, right? If anyone knows how to make an item duplication machine, it would be Doc. And a shulker box might be useful for an item duping machine!

She’s getting ahead of herself. Should she steal from this person? Can she steal from this person? Even disregarding the moral dilemma, the members of the Dream SMP are fighters through and through. She’s got the advantage of surprise because she’s invisible and this man doesn’t know she’s here, but how long will that last? Even if she manages to take it, what if the blond man (Punz, she thinks is his name) kills her and takes the shulker box back from her?

As Stress weighs the risks and the rewards, she knows she’s running out of time. Punz breaks the shulker box. Right as he’s about to put it back in his Ender chest, Stress, who can see the window of opportunity closing, springs into panicked action.

She sprints right past Punz, hoping with every fiber of her being that her invisibility potion will be enough to save her. Snatching the box right out of Punz’s hands, Stress takes off running. Punz shouts, swinging his sword wildly at the air. He’s so close that a few strands of hair, just barely the tips, get sheared off of Stress’s fluffy mane and become visible as they flutter to the ground.

Punz’s eyes narrow, tracking the potion particles that he can just barely see. Unfortunately for him, the invisible thief takes off into the mob-infested forest. He gives chase, but the thief gains on him every time he has to stop to fight a mob.

Stress knows she can’t outrun Punz. She’s not bad, but he’s really good. Stress absolutely cannot lead this man back to the canyon. Allowing the hostile mobs of the forest to buy her time by slowing Punz down, Stress looks around rapidly, searching for something, anything she can do to lose the hunter on her trail.

A lone cow catches her eye. Thinking fast, she bites her lip as she dumps her only water bucket out into a nearby pond where it won’t be noticed, then milks the cow. In the distance, a zombie groans as Punz takes it out. Stress hyperventilates, frantically digging at the ground beneath her feet with a silk touch shovel. Once she’s created a hole just barely big enough for her to hide in, she hops in and puts the grassy dirt she dug up just seconds ago above her head and immediately downs the milk, so that there won’t be any potion particles to track her by.

Slowly, carefully, and as quiet as she possibly can, she digs up the dirt beneath her feet in absolute darkness. Logically, Stress knows that Punz won’t be able to see the light from her torch, but she’s too terrified to think logically. What has she done?!

Her shovel stills as angry feet stomp above her. Dirt crumbles into her hair when Punz walks directly above her. Caustic mutters faintly reach her ears through the loamy earth, fading farther and farther away as Punz searches in vain for the invisible thief. Stress waits with bated breath for minutes on end, hands shaking like leaves in a hurricane.

Tentatively, she digs up the diorite block below her with a pickaxe. A mob shifts aboveground and Stress, paralyzed with the paranoia that it might be Punz, spends another five minutes in immobile silence. Burying her face in her hands, she sucks in a breath and continues digging. Once she hits a decently low y-level, she digs forward, taking care to place all her blocks behind her exactly as they were before she mined them.

After a solid three hundred blocks, she begins to staircase back up. On one unfortunate swing of her pick, water floods into her staircase. She must be under a lake or a sea. She can make out some kelp, though, so hopefully that’ll be enough cover for her to go up and check her surroundings.

Stress takes a deep breath and plunges into the cold water. Swimming up, she catches sight of wood-- no way. There is no way she’s made it to the docks just outside of the canyon. Eagerly, she swims back down into her staircase for a breath of air and the chance to down an invisibility potion, then back up to the surface.

On the entire journey from the bottom of the sea to the elevator on the other side of the canyon, she expects someone to catch her, to notice the water she’s dripping on the ground, to somehow sense the guilt emanating off her in waves. It doesn’t happen. Stress makes it to the elevator and pushes the down button eagerly. Every foot the elevator descends down is another thousand pounds of weight off her shoulders. She’s exhausted, and so close to home base. If she can just make it into the Atrium, she’ll have succeeded.

The elevator dings, rousing Stress from her daydreaming. “I really am dead on my feet, ain’t I?” she murmurs to herself.

She makes her way into one of the village houses, avoiding the pressure plates and tripwires which she knows like the back of her hand by now. In the house, she presses a button, which opens a door which leads to a tunnel. Sagging in relief, Stress practically melts across the floor as she traverses the short tunnel and finally makes it into Atrium 1-- a large circular room with a rounded ceiling and plenty of light.

“Woah, Stress!” Ren exclaims, running to support her. The dark circles under his eyes make him look as exhausted as she feels. He’s been working round the clock at the tree farm to churn out enough wood to meet the demands of twenty-four Hermits.

“Stress?” Ren asks with concern in his eyes, gently shaking Stress’s shoulders.

She laughs, high-pitched and wild. She’s done it. She’s really gone and done it!

“I got a shulker box,” she breathes.

Ren gasps. “What?! No way, they’re not even a thing on this server!”

“Yes they are,” Stress sing-songs, “because I have one.”

She tosses him the cyan shulker box with a look of pride on her face. Ren looks at the box in his hands, then back up at Stress with wide eyes.

“We gotta go show Xisuma, my dude.”

---

The Hermits convene in the small meeting room in the residential district, then realize that the room is in fact small and twenty-four Hermits aren’t going to fit in it. Xisuma’s having a good day, so he decides to hold the meeting in Atrium 1.

There are many different opinions on the acquisition of the shulker box, which sits innocently in the center of the room. Some people like Wels believe that even if it’s a great boon, it was stolen and therefore the Hermits don’t have the right to use it. Things were different when they first arrived in the canyon; they stole small things in order to survive. A shulker is nice to have, but the Hermits won’t die without it. On the other hand, there are people who side with Grian, who believes that since the Hermits already have the shulker box, they might as well use it.

Doc rumbles a deep hm, indicating that he’s debating with himself whether he should say something or not. Finally, it seems that the side of him which wants to tell his fellow Hermits wins out.

“Have you guys considered shulker box duping?” he says. Immediately, there is a clamor of outcries, both for and against, as well as just plain disbelieving.

Tango speaks up: absolutely not. It’s cheating. False tentatively rebuts, though, that sometimes cheating is acceptable when it's for a good cause. After all, part of her season 7 base was dug out using TNT dupers. Mumbo awkwardly raises his hand and waits for someone to acknowledge him, which Grian does.

“Er… what if we give it back after we’re done with it?” Mumbo says. Tango still looks unhappy, but the idea seems to appease Wels.

“Friends,” Xisuma says softly. Everyone quiets down immediately. “Should we have a civil vote, or shall I decide?”

Immediately, everyone gets shamed into behaving. “We can vote,” Bdubs says. “Everyone in favor of not cheating?”

“Wait, what are our options?” Grian asks.

“Er,” Scar speaks up. “Keeping the box but not duping it, giving the box back, duping it then giving it back, or duping it and not giving the original back. Is that right?”

Bdubs nods. “Yeah! So, all in favor of keeping the one original box?” A few hands go up, maybe five or six.

“Giving the box back?” More hands go up.

“Duplicating the box, then giving it back?” Nearly a dozen hands go up.

“Well then,” Bdubs says, “I guess I don’t have to finish the options; dupe-and-return wins.”

Doc strides into the center of the room and mines up the shulker box before anyone can change their mind; Tango grumbles good-naturedly at having lost the vote. Meanwhile, while everyone discusses the vote, Joe ferries Xisuma off to his quarters.

“So who’s going to give the shulker box back when we’re done with it, my dudes?” Ren asks the room at large.

“I will,” Stress says immediately. “I stole it; it’s only right that I give it back.”

---

Two days later, Punz wakes up to a noise in his house. He reaches for a knife under his pillow; just because there is no one to be seen doesn’t mean that no one’s there, as Punz is well aware given the theft of his shulker box, which he is still smarting over.

He gets out of bed, treading softly. Right there, in the doorway, is the same shulker box he lost! He looks around. This has to be a trap. No one is around… Punz might as well spring this trap.

He opens the box. Nothing is missing. In fact, there are more items inside than there were when it was stolen from him! A totem of undying, four diamond blocks, two ingots of netherite, and a note which reads, Sorry I stole your box! I only needed to borrow it, but I felt bad so I left some extra goodies in. xoxo

“...Huh?” Punz says to himself. This is the weirdest prank ever.

He puts the box back into his Ender chest and resolves to think about it in the morning.

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hyunverse · 3 years

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NUMBERS (WE ONLY HAVE 32 DAYS LEFT) ☆ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI.

CHAPTER ONE : YOU, ME AND OUR BURDENS.

gender neutral.

warnings: talk of death(s).

tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

beta readers: @milktyama , @boytual , @inusdoll .

synopsis: life isn’t easy when you’re gifted with the ability to see how much time is left for your loved ones to live. what makes matters worse is the fact that luck was and will never be on fushiguro megumi’s side.

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Megumi didn’t ask for this at all.

He didn’t ask to see how much time was left for a person to live. Deadly digits at the top of his loved ones’ heads. He didn’t ask to see the death timer, continuously ticking as a body gets old, waiting for its expiration date. A constant reminder of death.

“Don’t fall for me, Fushiguro,” you joked one time. He was sitting beside you by a lake one evening as the sun sets.

“I would never,” he replied.

How he wished that was the case. Day by day he was captivated by your personality. He spent every waking day finding out new things about you that he couldn’t help but admire. Megumi truly didn’t see it coming at all. After all, he had vowed to keep his distance from people. He thought he was doing a good job at keeping his vow. He will never forget that time he was acquainted with two people his same age, named Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuuji. It started with the trio being in the same college course, becoming friends over the times. Megumi thought it’d be okay. He thought it wouldn't hurt to see the pair die, in case it actually happened.

Until it did.

Megumi still remembers that day very clearly. He had anticipated the 15th of February for months. He told both Nobara and Itadori to stay in their shared home all day in hopes of changing their fates. They followed what he advised despite the obvious paranoia in Megumi’s tone. Itadori told Megumi to calm down on call, reassured Megumi that Nobara and he were safe in their house—happily eating sushi and binging movies. Megumi thought it would be okay. What could possibly happen to a pair of best friends staying in the privacy of their apartment?

They died in a house fire.

The raven head couldn’t sleep for days. All his college assignments were left overdue, red-inked digits filling up his report card. Megumi didn’t care. The Zenin clan was flooded with money anyway. Starting from that day Fushiguro vowed to not get close to anybody. The numbers only appear once he feels affection towards the person. He’ll be fine if he just kept his distance. Spending the rest of his life all alone. He wouldn’t mind that at all. Fewer problems.

What Fushiguro Megumi failed to remember was the heart wants what it wants. He could completely ignore his feelings but it wouldn’t stop his heart to feel. What Fushiguro Megumi forgot was the fact that he was human, and being human meant feeling things.

A looming wall was set between him and other people. A hard, cemented wall—Megumi was positive nobody would get through and touch his vulnerability. You had the toughness of steel. You completely ignored how disinterested he seemed. Constantly teasing and caring for him—it was only a matter of time until his wall crumbled.

You also had the tenderness of silk. Soft fingers combing his hair as the two of you laid on his roof. There were no stars in the sky, but you insisted on laying amidst the darkness of night.

“Megumi,” you whispered, turning to look at the man, “you’re so hard to get through yet so easy to read.”

Fushiguro could already feel the sturdy wall he built shattering like the thinnest glass.

“You’re talking nonsense.”

He was avoiding the question, which was exactly the reaction you expected from him.

You chuckled, “you do know it’s okay to open up and set yourself free, right?”

Free.

Before you could think of anything else to say, tears slipped down Megumi’s cheeks. His vision and thoughts blurred together until all he could think and feel was how much his heart ached. He began to wonder if he had always felt that way. If he had been ignoring his heart’s screams all this time.

You carefully inched closer to your co-worker, painfully aware of all his reactions. God knows what possessed you to do what you did, but you gently cradled his face in your hands. The feeling of your thumb pads rubbing against his skin managed to soothe him. Seeing no negative reaction, you brought yourself to move closer towards his trembling body. You held him in your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,“ you whispered. Your lips ghosted over the shell of his ear, and he could feel the heat of your body.

He nodded between his cries and let you cradle him like nobody else was watching. He let you whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Fushiguro Megumi allowed himself to believe in your sweet words, he allowed himself to feel as if everything was fine.

A tingling feeling appeared in Megumi’s stomach. He clutched his heart. It was happening again. The numbers appeared again. He gathered his courage to look up, at the top of your head.

His heart dropped.

70 years, 2 months, 12 days.

For the first time since he learned about his ability, after outliving both his parents, his sister and his best friends-- Megumi wasn’t going to outlive another loved one.

The gush of relief Megumi was feeling caused him to cry even more. Under the half moon, he sobbed into your chest ‘till his tears were dry.

“Megs, look,” you tilted his head upwards to look at you. You shot him a reassuring smile and rubbed his shoulders.

You pretended to pick something up from Fushiguro’s shoulder and placed the nothingness on your own shoulders. Megumi sniffled and furrowed his eyebrows. You did it over and over again, your patience was starting to wear off.

“This, what is this you’re carrying on your shoulder?” you asked, continuing the action again, but slowly.

“Air?”

“No! Try again,” you acted the scene out slower. Rub his shoulders, pretend to pick something up then place them on your shoulders. “What are you carrying on your shoulders, Megumi?”

The 24-year-old man’s face contorted into confusion, “um-- shoulder ache?”

You grunted, “no! Ugh… burdens, Megumi! Burdens!”

His face grew even more confused, to the point where he was tilting his head, eyeing you curiously.

“Your burdens,” you picked the non-existent materials from Megumi’s shoulders, placing them on top of your own shoulders, “I picked some of your burdens and placed them on me. So, it becomes our burdens. Not just yours. We carry them together.”

Fushiguro Megumi was astounded.

“Our burdens?” he repeated, his hands trailing their way up to your arms, lightly squeezing them.

“Our burdens, Megumi.”

He looked down and mumbled the words quietly. Repeatedly. Like a teenager continuously reciting their formulas to register and implant them in their head. The more he said the words, the more he felt like bursting into tears for the third time that night.

Finally, he took a deep breath, nodding to himself before looking back up to you;

“Our burdens.”

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ikindamissbeingphysical · 3 years

Text

5 Times Musa wore Riven’s clothes

Read here or on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376804

The Alfea Games is a bullshit annual tradition. It's an exam masquerading as a tournament, just a way for the teachers and high rankers of the Kingdom to see who they want to pluck out of the Academy and take for their army, or task force, or some other random position Riven could really not care less about.

Still, he's competitive, and if there's one thing he likes doing, it's beating Sky.

He slashes, a dagger in each fist, at the Burned One projection and it falls to its knees shrieking.

The stands are full of students cheering, and Riven gets a rush at their applause.

"Show off." Sky pants from beside him, as Riven's tally flicks up to 7, and Sky's stays stubbornly at 4.

"Jealous, much?" Riven grins; relieved when the half-time bell chimes because his legs are sore, and the late afternoon sun still burns as it begins to dip out of the sky. He and the other Specialists head over to the shade and he rifles through his rucksack for some water as Sky goes to kiss Bloom, who's leaning over the rail; red tresses swaying in the breeze.

"You were amazing!" Bloom gushes, and Sky beams at her, and Riven mimes throwing up.

Someone laughs.

He turns to see Musa, headphones around her neck, hair in pigtails, and-and-

In his jacket.

She's wearing his jacket. His leather jacket. It's draped over her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, because she's wearing some strapless, form-fitting purple dress, and Riven's coat, she's wearing Riven's-

"You okay, man?" Sky asks, and Riven realises they're all looking at him, and he's still looking at Musa, and her big, brown eyes are lit up a sort of hazel in the red setting sun.

He nods, waving them off, and chugs more of his water, trying to temper his heartbeat.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Musa asks, more quietly, her irises flaring purple. Her eyebrows stitch together worriedly. "You're like- really anxious. It's just a game."

"Stay out of my head." He hisses furiously, petrified that she might be able to see, might be able to tell-

She leans away from him, scowling. "Fine. Whatever."

He's grateful when the bell rings again, but his winning streak is gone. As the flood-lights turn on and the sun disappears, he misses target after target. He keeps getting pinned by fucking rookies and everyone else's tally continues to jump up as his dies on a plateau.

He can see her, in his peripheral, wearing his jacket and she probably doesn't even know it's his. She probably doesn't know how she looks in that leather swamping her frame, the collar resting at her neck, where the skin looks so soft that-

"Fuck, dude," Sky curses, hauling Riven off his ass. "Pull yourself together."

"She's wearing my jacket." He snaps, and Sky looks at him blankly for a moment, before he groans.

"Dude, I know you're like, against sharing, but she was freezing and it was just lying there. I'd have given her mine, but Bloom had already-"

"It's fine, just-" Riven tries to shake it off, "I'm focused."

He can't help a final glance over his shoulder, to see Musa leaning sleepily against the railings, headphones now secured over her ears, resting her chin on her arms. On his jacket sleeves. She's lit by the silver floodlights, and her eyes are half-closed, and he wonders what she's listening to. He wonders-

The Burned One knocks him to the ground, and the buzzer blares.

The next day, traces of her perfume linger on his jacket, swirling around him the way she does, always, in his thoughts.

It's sweet, like honey and vanilla, like home-spun sugar and toffee.

He'd found his jacket right on the bench where he'd left it after the game: the stands empty, the game over. It had been folded neatly and left just beside his things and he'd slid it on and tried not to replay their interaction in his head.

Today's a new day.

As part of Sky's new scheme to become the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, they've been sitting with the Winx Suite most lunch times. It's not exactly Riven's idea of a good time. He feels some horrid mix of guilt and irritation whenever he looks at Terra, and Aisha glowers at him like his very proximity will end in her getting a suspension. He spends most of the time arguing with Stella, and trying (failing) not to look at Musa while Sky and Bloom stray the line between PDA and go get a room.

When he gets to the cafeteria and heads for the table, he's surprised, and maybe a little thrilled, to see that it's just Musa at the table.

She stands up as soon as she seems him.

"Good, the others just left. They wanted to have lunch out by the lake. Bloom has apparently ‘found a place’. C'mon, we can catch up."

He has no option but to follow her, and sure enough, half-way across the field is the whole merry-fucking-gang. Riven doesn't know how to feel. Sky could've texted, if his brain was capable of fathoming anything other than Bloom when she was nearby. Were they even going to invite him? Was he going to get to the cafeteria to see an empty table? They probably wouldn't have missed him anyway, he thinks bitterly.

And yet- Musa was there. Waiting.

He looks at her thoughtfully, and her eyes flash purple when she catches him. She winces. "It wasn't like that." She says, "they were caught up in the idea of going there. They weren't purposely trying to leave you behind."

Jesus Christ, can't she just-

"I'm sorry," she barrels on, as they fall into the same steps, almost caught up to the others. "I'm trying to respect your privacy and everything, I'm working on it- my control isn't great at the moment."

"You should work on that." He mutters.

Her shoulders slump dejectedly. "I know."

Well, fuck, he didn't mean to- he swallows hard. "I'm tanking my field training." He says, trying to ignore her look of surprise at this freely-offered information. "Great at everything else, but camouflage? The element of surprise? I'm struggling. It's hard. I also fucking hate it, so there's that."

She huffs out a small laugh. "I bet you just like the thrill of attacking someone face to face. None of that 'sneaking up on you' bullshit."

He grins before he can check himself, and she catches it, and smiles too.

"There you are!" Bloom calls excitedly, "c'mon, we're gonna use Stella's ring."

Riven hates to give Bloom props for anything- and it isn't because he doesn't like her, or anything like that- he's just reluctant to acknowledge anybody's good traits since they all seem so loathe to see any in him- but the lake is nice.

Large and leafy green, surrounded by trees and over-hung by the clear blue sky. There's a sunbeaten deck strutting proudly into the middle, and Aisha strips out of her clothes to reveal a swim suit, and in three great strides, dives in like a dolphin.

The rest of them stare after her in awe.

"Are you always wearing that under your clothes?" Riven asks, toeing off his shoes, watching as Aisha tumble turns and glides through the water like a dolphin. She smiles at him from the water, and he's surprised by the look of it on her face. For the first time, she looks relaxed. Stress-free. Content.

Bloom and Stella change into their swim suits, as he and Sky just strip down to their boxers. Bloom wolf-whistles, and Sky blushes.

Riven puffs his chest out, winking at Stella who scoffs at him. He turns to find Musa. She's shrugged off her coat and shoes, and is rifling through her bag in confusion. She's too pre-occupied to notice his abs. Riven tries not to take offence.

"I can't find my- oh shit." Musa groans, thumping her head. "I left it back in the fire circle."

"Oh! Don't worry, Musa," Terra says brightly, as she sits, fully-dressed, on the mossy bank, with a stack of books beside her. "You can sit this one out with me!"

Musa turns to her with a smile (that to Riven, looks fucking forced) just as Bloom and Sky jump in. They scream, splashing Stella who cannon-balls in after them. Riven watches Musa's face, can see the hidden longing in her eyes.

A part of him wants to tease her, entice her in by saying how much he wouldn't mind if they decided to go skinny-dipping instead, but he knows it ultimately wouldn't work. Instead, he reaches for his discarded black tee, and tosses it to her.

"Should be long enough to preserve your modesty," he says, going for casual and heading for the dock. "Considering you're such a short-arse."

Musa sticks her tongue out at him, but she eagerly turns to get changed and Riven plunges into the lake to resist the urge to watch.

The water is warm and licks at his skin as the sun beats down onto his shoulders. It's deep and he can't quite graze the bottom, and he's suddenly, a little stupidly, grateful for knowing Sky. Grateful that he gets to be here. He floats on his back, staring up at the sky and letting himself just bask in the moment. As the water laps in his ears, he can hear the others laughing, Aisha swimming, Stella screaming, and the sun warms red spots onto his eye lids, marvellous colours in the dark- so he opens them.

Just in time to see Musa standing on the dock.

Suddenly, all his attention is on her. Her long, tan legs on display, his tee, his t-shirt, tickling down past her hips, and she jumps.

Okay. Turns out it's not a leather jacket thing. Anything that's his looks good on her. He could look good on her.

He watches for her when she re-surfaces, as she joins in splashing Stella, and he waits, waits, waits, until- victory.

She swims over to him. A little way away from the group, to where he's treading water alone. The t-shirt clings to her and he wants to touch her and-

"Hey," she says, with wet hair and water droplets on her eyelashes. "Thanks for the tee."

He shrugs. "I'd rather you'd jumped in without anything on."

She hits him, but finally, finally, he gets her eyes on him. They linger, as the water rivets roll down the breadth of his shoulders, his chest, down to- her eyes flicker away, cheeks red.

"Don't be shy," he purrs, "I'm hot. It's not a sin to look. You're hot too. Dancer’s body. Bet you're flexible."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She murmurs, before her eyes flash purple. He tries not to let it irritate him. He hates the violation of his privacy, but he knows she can't control it- but she turns away from him, and he follows her gaze to Terra, sitting balefully alone. "If I do what I'm gonna do," she whispers, and his heart trips up a little, at her whispering to him over the water, pulling him in closer. A secret just for the two of them. "Promise you won't tell anyone."

Riven grins. "I'm great with secrets."

Musa takes a breath, before she stares at Terra, face tense with concentration, eyes shimmering purple.

Riven turns to look at Terra expectantly. "You're mind-controlling her?"

"No." Musa mutters, still focused, "I'm just trying to increase her confidence, trying to-"

Terra looks up suddenly, and Musa hurriedly grabs Riven's arm to move behind him.

"The water does look good!" Terra calls, "is it warm?"

"Oh, it's lovely, Terra!" Musa hollers back, "you should come in!"

"Yes! Join us!" Bloom sings, from her position perched on Sky's shoulders.

Terra wavers. Riven can feel Musa's hand curled around his arm, her body against his back. "I don't have my costume!" She yells.

"You're wearing like five layers," Stella calls, "you can spare one."

Terra chews on her bottom lip, and Riven turns his head to whisper: "can't you boost it anymore?"

"I'm trying." Musa insists quietly, "I can't manufacture it. I can only enhance what's already there."

"Terra," Riven yells, startling her, "if you come in, I'll let you dunk me."

Sky bursts out laughing, and Terra giggles.

"Well, I can't resist that!" She says, getting to her feet. Riven turns away, looking down at Musa who's beaming up at him.

"Wow." She says, pressing her lips together to hide the glee in her tone. "That was very sweet."

"Fuck off." Riven mutters, but his eyes are on the collar of his wet tee as it clings to her skin. "I only did it because that was bloody painful to watch. By the way, is there anything else you can do with your powers that I should watch out for?"

Musa tips her head contemplatively. "Actually, yes." She lifts her hands and cups his face. He startles a little, at her fingertips against his jaw, before he sees her eyes purple and shimmer, and then suddenly, a weird emotion clouds into his head. It's familiar yet foreign, it's-

gratitude?

"It's meant to be gratitude." Musa says, when her eyes are back to normal and she's panting a little, "I'm not great at-"

"I got it." He reassures her, “I felt it."

She smiles, pleased, pushing away from him to swim further to the centre of the lake.

He watches her go, mind reeling. More powerful than he thought, though he's not sure why he's surprised. He can still feel her hands on his face. He wants to swim after her, but Terra and Sky corner him, eager to see him dunked.

It marks a turning point for the group as a whole.

The afternoon at the lake has softened grudges, strengthened bonds, and Terra talks to him more over lunch. Aisha doesn't bore him so much, not now he can see her for more than a stuck-up rule-follower. He and Stella get along as well as they usually do, but their barbs seem less sharp than before. Bloom has always been pretty accepting, and Musa-

Well, she's Musa.

She's making him lose all sense of normalcy, of sanity, because that's the only reason he'd agree to this fucking slumber party.

"No, I think it was better over there." Sky says, changing his mind for the fourth time, as Riven struggles under the weight of the mattress. The entire floor is covered with pillows and cushions and Sky needs to make up his mind before Riven kills him. "No, no, you were right- put it back."

"Jesus," Riven groans, setting it down and spotting the stack of Disney Princess movies. "We're two guys about to sleep with five girls, and you're suggesting we watch Pocahontas?"

"They won the coin toss," Sky shrugs, "besides, I always liked the little hummingbird."

The girls arrive after Laurie, the RI for the floor, has done her final rounds. They shuffle into the room on tiptoes, and Riven closes it behind them, meeting Musa's eyes. Her hair's down and loose around her shoulders, and he's never seen it like that before. In her soft looking, cotton pyjamas, some rainbow sweater, she's more enticing than usual so he busies himself with the popcorn as Sky sets out the rest of the snacks.

"This is a nice set-up, guys," Bloom grins, getting comfy right in the middle. Sky joins her, and soon, the lights are off- bar Stella's glowing little ball- and everyone's shuffling into place.

Bloom and Sky are cosied up to one another, and Aisha and Terra are tucked neatly into one corner. Stella fancies herself above the ground, and lies on Sky's bed, half her attention on her phone.

Musa settles in the other corner, leaning against a mountain of cushions, and Riven debates for about half a second before he joins her.

"Hi," she whispers, sounding pleased, "wanna hear a sad story?"

Their thighs are touching. Her fleece pants are warm against his bare leg, and the cushions are ridiculously comfortable, and she looks so different with her hair down, her face almost obscured from him. "Sure," he whispers back.

She points are her bare feet. "I forgot my socks."

He snorts. "If that's your idea of a sad story-" he breaks off into a hiss when she cruelly presses her toes onto his shin. "Jesus, they're fucking ice." He complains, and she laughs, tossing a kernel of popcorn into the air and catching it perfectly between her teeth.

He reaches over her, feels her entire body stiffen and does his best to ignore it, opening one of his drawers and pulling out a pair of mis-matched socks.

She takes them gleefully, leaning down to pull them on. Her shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of her lower back, and when she sits up- she catches him. Their eyes dart away from each other, and the first hour of Pocahontas is a stiff, awkward affair. The darkness seems to electrify the space between them and Riven's too afraid to move. Musa seems to be feeling the same way, but then Terra starts singing along with the song, and the the air relaxes a little.

Then, somehow, in Little Mermaid 2, Riven's oddly invested in Melody and her pull to the sea, when Musa sighs, sinking back further into the cushions, resting her body weight on Riven, looking completely content.

"You comfortable?" He teases, and she smiles lazily up at him, wiggling her toes in his socks.

"Very comfortable." She says, and he isn't thinking when he says:

"You're insufferably cute, you know that?"

He regrets it immediately, but it's slipped out, and Musa barely seems to notice his panic. She just yawns, and then she- she- rests her head on his shoulder, and her hair fans down over him, and tickles his arm.

He feels, suddenly, the rather vicious urge to protect her. He's on high-alert, for some reason, for any intruder, because she's here, half-asleep, resting against him. So trusting. So vulnerable, and-

The DVD menu chimes on repeat, and when Riven looks up he realises that everyone else is asleep, and Stella's orb of light has vanished into darkness, and that it's well past midnight.

Slowly, gently, he rests his cheek on Musa's head, feels the way they're tucked in together, and he closes his eyes.

He's not sure how it happened.

How they can go one minute from a group of friends binging Disney movies, to out here, in the woods, watching Bloom's fucking fire wings and surrounded on all sides by Burned Ones. Real ones. Not projections.

The girls are all glowing, eyes burning, and there's splashes of water, tangling ivy, shooting flames, blinding light and Musa: shouting locations as she tracks them.

"Try to project lethargy!" Aisha screams, clutching one arm, as Sky slashes a Burned One along the chest.

Riven jams two sharp jabs into the torso of another, and growls over his shoulder. "She's already fucking tracking them, Aisha! Why don't you just water-board them some more?"

Musa doesn't mediate their bickering, just whirls and points and says "Another three over there, I can sense them. They want Bloom!"

Sky and Terra immediately run over to Bloom, who has fire burning along her shoulders, and it's so arresting a sight that Riven doesn't even notice when the Burned One crumbles into ash beneath him.

He doesn't notice when another hisses just to his left. He can't get his blade out in time, and it has one deformed hand around his throat, claws pricking into his skin when Musa's suddenly shoving him away, taking his place, and he just has time to notice, to scream- when she lunges forward, and stabs the monster in the chest. It howls, and she yells out in unison, her voice shaking with agony, a sound that'll haunt him.

The Burned One crumples, and Musa with it.

"Musa!" Stella cries, racing over, trying to get closer, but Riven blocks her, taking Musa's chin in his hands, tilting her face up. There are tears stained along her cheeks, and her eyes are still rimmed purple.

"I felt it," she gasps, clutching Riven's arms, still shaking, "I felt it die, I felt it-"

"It's okay." Stella insists, voice shaky, rubbing Musa's back. "You did amazing, you did so great."

Musa clenches her eyes shut. "I've gotta- I can feel more of them."

"Take a minute." Riven pleads, trying to catch his breath, feeling blood move sluggishly down his own neck. "Take a minute, you just fucking saved my life, you're allowed a goddamn minute."

His entire being seems to light up at the small, strained smile she gives him. Stella sees the smile too, so she shoots Riven a look that says keep going, moron.

He doesn't need her prompting. "And what a sexy knife move. Where'd you get that blade?"

This earns more of a laugh from her. Relieved and a little hysterical sounding, but a laugh nonetheless. She holds the blade up, and its blue handle glints in the moonlight. "Stole it from you." She says, and he wants to tell her it isn't the only thing she's stolen from him. She has everything he is in the palm of her hand, and she saved his life. She hands the dagger back to him, and he shakes his head.

"Keep it. You look hot with a knife in your hand."

Musa laughs again, still a little choked up, and the two of them help her to her feet. He doesn't want to let go for her, but she sniffles, nodding, so Riven just sticks close by the rest of the night.

They defeat the burned ones with minimal injuries. Aisha's leg is broken, and Terra's bandaged it as best she can, as they limp back to the school. Dowling and Silva meet them half way, overflowing with worry and gratitude, and at their insistence, Riven collapses into a bed in the infirmary as they tend to his neck.

They put Musa in the bed beside him, and he sees claw marks on her ribs, and it's a good thing the Burned Ones are dead, because it's the only thing stopping him from marching right out into that forest to have their heads.

He's on his way back from the drinks table, two glasses in his hands, when he notices that Musa isn't there anymore.

Terra points to the back door. "She needed to step out. Mind fairy thing."

Riven nods, setting down the drinks and heading for the exit.

It's a warm summer night, and the air is humid, and Musa's standing out on the grass, gazing up at the stars.

She must feel his mental presence, because she turns and smiles.

He heads over to her, and she steps easily into the circle of his arms, and he holds her tightly.

Here they are. At the Alfea Ball, dating. Their three month anniversary is coming up soon, and Riven has something in mind. He's excited to see her reaction. But right now, he just basks in having her in his arms. She's a vision, in a lace-sleeved, indigo dress, her hair up the way he likes, and heels that mean she doesn't need to tiptoe to kiss him.

"Sorry," she murmurs, "got a little loud in there."

"I don't mind," he reassures, dropping a kiss onto her head. He feels her shiver, so he shrugs out of his tux jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. As pulls it around her, she looks up at him, soft and smiling, and his throat goes a little dry. "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, "you just look very dapper in your tux. I'm feeling it." Her hands slide up onto the plane of his chest, and he grins, nipping at her nose.

"Shall we get out of here, then?"

She hums in agreement, but tangles her fingers into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. As usual, the heat flares down to his stomach, and he pulls her tighter to his body.

"We should get out of here," he insists, kissing at her jaw, "or we'll definitely get suspended."

Musa laughs, and she leads the way back to the dorms.

Once there, he whispers, low and greedy into her ear, to take off everything but his jacket.

"Is this some sort of kink?" She asks delightedly, once his tux suit is the only thing on her gorgeous body, and she's straddling him, thighs spread over his, her fingers dragging through his hair.

"I don't know," he admits, even though he knows it's only a thing for him when she's involved. "I think I just look really good on you."

She bites his neck and scratches his down his back, and it hurts and he loves it, and she looks down at the marks like a satisfied kitten with tiger claws. "I look good on you too." She whispers, and he kisses her again.

And again.

#rivusa #riven x musa #fate: the winx saga #mutual pining #fic

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bby-bo · 3 years

Text

HQ as Dog Dads!

headcanons about haikyuu men and their pets with you!

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader, Ushijima x Reader, Atsumu x Reader, Osamu x Reader

Warning: nothing, just rlly fkn cute

Summary: In which these HQ men become Dog Dads with you! (Includes photo of dog breed, gender, and name + hc)

SAKUSA:

- female, Berger Blanc Suisse, “Cleo”

- the type of guy who says “we are never getting a dog” with a look of intense stubbornness, only for you to get one anyways because he can’t tell you no

- now Sakusa and Cleo have a morning routine together that is never broken and you’re pretty sure Cleo likes Sakusa more than you (she’s a daddy’s girl)

- they wake up, go on their 6 am run together, then after a shower/ short nap, Sakusa makes breakfast and coffee

- you wake to find Cleo sitting at Sakusa’s feet as he eats breakfast and reads some early news headlines

- you often find him holding entire conversations with Cleo as he does chores around the house

Sakusa: *turns vacuum off and turns to face Cleo sitting on her bed; “Cleo, you and Hoshiumi almost have matching hair”

Cleo: *tilts head and wines*

Sakusa: “Oh but don’t worry you’re way smarter than he is” and continues to vacuum the living room

- When the three of you go out together on the weekends your little group looks so sophisticated, with black masks, long trench coats and a well trained wolf-dog by your sides

- Sakusa holds Cleo and waits on the sidewalk as you run in to Starbucks and grab your mobile order. Presses a kiss to your forehead through his mask when you get back, and Cleo’s tail wags rapidly to greet you (even though you only left for a minute)

- the two of them are like your personal heaters during movie nights, Sakusa’s large frame dwarfing you as he tugs you closer under his arm and Cleo’s head in your lap as Sakusa watches his two favorite girls fall asleep half way through the film

USHIJIMA:

- originally, Ushijima was worried about you being lonely when he had to be away from home for games and practices. that’s how you got your first dog, a female Border Collie named Harley!

- but then you were worried about Harley being lonely when you traveled with Ushijima to some of his away games, so you got a puppy to keep her company; a male Great Pyrenees named Bear! (you said he reminded you of a polar bear cub and Toshi melted so that’s his name)

- one summer, Ushijima was driving back from a beach day with you asleep in the passenger seat, Harley and Bear strewn across the back seats, a smile breaking across his face as he looks over at you

- then, out of the corner of his eye he spots something on the side of the road and pulls over immediately. The two of you are shocked to find an abandoned puppy left alone in a cardboard box, a note taped to the side that said the dog wasn’t being fed or well cared for in their old household.

- That’s how, all of a sudden, Ushijima finds himself with three dogs, the third being the rescued male Vizsla puppy, Ronan! And he wouldn’t change it for the world

- the dogs are like your children, he brings them everywhere and loves the atmosphere of a full household with you.

- ushijima makes dinner for the dogs each week, bowls of white chicken, bacon bits, chopped carrots and greens. he takes the health of the dogs very seriously, and soon that starts to translate to you as well (ushijima starts making you drink green smoothies with him before practice)

- when toshi returns from a long time away for volleyball, he’ll fall asleep on the couch with his head in your lap, Ronan and Harley squished on his chest and stomach as Bear tries to make a space for himself as close to you as he can

- ushijima treasures the home life he’s created with you, and his social media feeds are flooded with candid photos of you and your dogs on hikes, at the lake, and just lounging around at home

ATSUMU:

- male, Moscow Water Dog, Casper

- Atsumu always wanted a dog, but from the first moment he brought Casper home it was clear that Casper’s favorite was you (he’s offended but eventually grows to find it cute)

- Casper and Tsumu are like little cousins, they follow you around the apartment in hopes of getting some extra affection out of you (you’re pretty sure Atsumu is competing with Casper to see who can make the best puppy dog eyes at you)

- your work schedule doesn’t line up well with Atsumu’s, as he’s often busy in the mornings with practices and your often busy at night as a manager at an upscale restaurant down town

- but there’s always someone to keep Casper company, and the three of you spend the mid day time together as often as you can

- Atsumu sits on the bed with Casper, watching you through the vanity mirror as you do your makeup for your shift at work (Casper pawed at your leg for a few moments, until he realized you were preoccupied with other things and decided to settle for attention from Tsumu)

Atsumu: “Ya sure ya can’t take tonight off? It’s a Thursday night they won’t be understaffed without ya”

You: “Tsumu, baby, i’m the bar manager. I really do have to go in or nobody gets their cut on time”

- He pouts as Casper lets out an anxious wine, the two of them feeding off of the dramatics of the other

- you come home late into the night, only to find Atsumu cuddled up with Casper in the middle of the bed (they get lonely without you)

- your boyfriend is still sound asleep but Casper pops his head up to give your face a few goodnight kisses before settling in until the morning

OSAMU:

- 2 dogs, a pair of female and male Keeshond siblings, named Lilo and Stich (after Osamu’s favorite childhood movie !)

- Osamu brings the dogs in to work on weekdays sometimes, and they hang in their beds behind the hostess station, keeping Osamu’s employees company throughout their shifts

- at home, Lilo tends to hang out with you and Stich tends to stick to Osamu, but when the dogs smell Osamu working in the kitchen, they never make themselves scarce

- you sat at the counter with Lilo in your lap and Stich in the seat beside you, all three of you watching as Osamu worked on perfecting some new onigiri flavors and recipes that he’d recently developed

Osamu: “you guys look like judges lined up for a professional cookin’ show. yer freakin’ me out a bit”

You: “well why don’t we taste test for you then”

Osamu: “I knew ya were gonna ask me that... dogs get first taste” offering you his signature smirk as he turns back to his cutting board, leaving you to roll your eyes at his back

- the Onigiri Miya regulars know Lilo and Stich by name, and they leave online reviews about how cute the owner’s dogs are on Yelp! (the dogs get extra excited when Atsumu brings Bokuto and Hinata in for a meal)

- Osamu is secretly really soft for his dogs, but he only lets you see it on occasion when you catch him cooing at Lilo and Stich as they roll over for tummy rubs when Samu comes home from night time shifts at the shop

- plays it cool when you do catch him (bc it happens more often than he’s willing to admit)

Osamu: “babe, ya want a tummy rub too?”

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

Are You Here to Stop Me?--Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [First post in Peony to Lotus Verse]

[Ao3 Series]

[I had the hardest time shaking this man and making plot fall out, he was wholly uncooperative.]

This was all such fucking disaster.

A-jie was sick, the Jiang were once again yanked into a political fiasco that they had to pay for with their own reputation, there was a fierce corpse puppet in his home--a home that, apparently, had already been invaded by the Jin Clan demanding answers to said political fiasco while its master wasn’t even there. In a few days time, it would be invaded again by strange Wens he didn’t know or want.

If his mother were alive, she would kill him. He would probably deserve it. He didn’t know what his father would think. He would probably be disappointed--either that he didn’t think of it in the first place or for his resentment.

He stood frozen by the door, anxiously watching Wen Qing treat a barely conscious A-jie. It wasn't like he had never seen his sister feverish and weak before, but it scared him the same every single time. To know that she was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. To know that this could be the illness that would take her from him. That this could be the last time that….He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and folded his arms tight across his chest to keep them from fidgeting at his sides.

Jin Guangyao seemed to think everything was under control--at least, that’s what he had said. It would have been far more comforting if it hadn’t been in such a distant voice while being unable to look away from A-jie. Clutching her hand in a white knuckled grip. Expression all strained and pale with badly concealed terror.

This is your plan! Jiang Cheng wanted to scream as he clenched his aching fists. I did this because you said it would work! You’re the one that’s supposed to know what you’re doing!

What he wouldn’t give to actually know what the hell he was doing. Being an adult couldn’t just be this, right? Just guessing and grasping around in the dark, tripping like you’re wearing your father’s too big robes? Every other person he met seemed to be controlled and mature, while he was barely treading water--hell, even Wei Wuxian did the things he did with confidence. It had to get better at some point, because, right now, this mess was embarrassing--enraging. But most of all, it was terrifying.

What the hell should he do? What was right?

A-jie kept breathlessly trying to tell them all that she was alright, that they should rest and continue preparing. But she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lolled around like a floppy doll. Every once in a while, she was wracked with violent, hacking coughs that shook her and left her gasping.

When she whispered Jiang Cheng’s name and raised a trembling hand as Wen Qing stepped away to prepare something, he practically dove to her side, his knees slamming painfully into the floor in his haste. Clasping her hand in both of his, he found it freezing, so he chafed it gently between his palms. “A-jie?”

“You...must be...so tired.” She smiled weakly, eyes slurring to the Wen child who had fallen asleep on the other pillow, leaving grubby little smudges all over the bedding. “All of you. I’m fine. Go. Sleep.” Even this short speech left her breathless, then coughing, wet and harsh. She trembled as Jin Guangyao helped her sit up and held her close, stroking her back.

Jiang Cheng hated everything about this. He was going to kill Wei Wuxian.

She wasn’t wrong, though. His limbs felt like practice weights, his overworked core throbbed like a pulled muscle within him. (His core? Wei Wuxian’s core? The core? This reminder burrowed in him like a barbed arrow every time he remembered again, further and further since the night he had learned it. Regret and anger and nausea, swimming and hot, every day, every fucking day. A stranger inside himself, but not. Another thing he was helpless to.)

When A-Jie finally dropped into unconsciousness not long after, Wen Qing announced that under no circumstances should she be allowed to exert herself for the next few days, until she could sit up on her own and breathe without wheezing. “The fluid in her lungs has worsened,” she told the two of them, voice still hoarse. “But since I have access to the supplies here, her fever should hopefully break sometime tonight. She shouldn’t be in any immediate danger but she will have to take her medicine on a strict schedule.”

“She will,” Jin Guangyao agreed immediately, thumb smoothing repeatedly over the back of A-jie’s limp hand. “Just tell me when and I’ll do it.”

When Jiang Cheng finally stood to leave, just about every muscle from the base of his skull to the tendons at his heels screamed and gods, he wanted a bath and sleep and for this to not be happening. Wen Qing collected the still sleeping boy, and Jin Guangyao rose, seeing them all out into the hall before bowing, sharp and deep. “Thank you, Wen-guniang.”

Damn. Jiang Cheng hastily followed suit and bowed. You tactless asshole. She watched them both with weary eyes, expression as closed as it had been for days, but she inclined her head to accept. “Come get me immediately if anything changes.”

Straightening, Jin Guangyao nodded, his habitual smile nowhere to be seen, drained and serious. “I will. I’m going to stay up to watch her.”

Her eyes narrowed warily. But she only nodded.

The entire trip leading her through Lotus Pier to her prepared room was silent.

Jiang Cheng knew he should say something. He wanted to say something--to thank her more personally for A-jie’s care or tell her that she would be safe here, that when he made a promise, he kept it (unlike some people.) Maybe reassure her that this wasn’t a ploy by him to corner her, that this was honestly a waking nightmare he kept wishing he would wake up from.

That this wasn’t how he had imagined marrying her. As a last resort. As a trap.

Instead, he was silent. Nothing he had to say would come out right and he would either sound like an ass or an idiot. Or both.

She was just as quiet, anyway, drifting behind him like some sort of mourning wraith, carrying the limp child. The only sounds were their footsteps, distant murmurs, and the frogs droning from their intermittent little ponds and from the lake beyond. Chill from the young evening settled into their still damp, days old clothes. The clean, living scent of the water was comforting, so at least there was that.

He wondered if it just smelled like mud to her.

When they came to the room, he saw that the lanterns and the incense burner were already lit, and a while ago, judging by how thickly the scent of jasmine and musk lay over everything. It was one of the nicest guest suites, with a wide bed, wispy purple wall hangings, and intricate lotus blossoms crawling up in carvings on the screens. It occurred to him suddenly that it might seem horribly insensitive to remind her exactly where she was and why. Tacky. He ground his teeth.

Wen Qing staggered right by him into the room without a glance, practically collapsing across the bed to lay the boy down. Angry? Disgusted? Done with him, whichever it was. But Jiang Cheng stayed by the door, fingers worrying at the thick fabric of his robe, running the edge of his nail along the weave as she tucked the blanket up to the boy’s chin. The need to say something--anything--was becoming too much to bear. “I’m sorry it isn’t very big.”

Her voice was dull and she didn’t even turn around. “It’s fine, Jiang-zongzhu.”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to...you can call me Jiang Wanyin,” he said, because he was apparently very stupid. The slow, disbelieving look she gave him over her shoulder was well deserved. “You don’t have to,” he added, because he apparently was not done being stupid. I mean, you’ve literally cut me open before, so I figured….

“...Alright.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to melt into the floor. Or possibly die. His mouth worked around his grimace of self disgust and he managed, “I’ll have the servants send in a bath.”

She sagged back on her heels beside the bed, still looking over at him. “Where is A-Ning?”

Oh. Right. “Probably….” Actually, he had no idea where Wei Wuxian had taken him. His room? The idea of that puppet leaking black resentful energy and lying on his childhood bed seemed ridiculous. “With Wei Wuxian,” he finished, lamely. “I’ll find out.”

Her gaze transferred to the floor, eyes unseeing and darkened by smudges of dirt and exhaustion. She was still quite pretty, but it was a gaunt, unkempt sort of beauty. The silence stretched, uncomfortable. He should have let a servant show her to the room. She was waiting for him to leave, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly, just as he turned around to simply leave, saving them both the agony. “For doing this.”

His jaw tightened and he kept his eyes locked on the light wood of the column right outside her door. Instead of anything helpful or comforting, what came out was a low, unplanned, “Why didn’t you come to me.” She had the comb. She had to. It had been gone when he came back to check and he had thought...hoped….

Skin on fabric. She was probably looking at him, and so kept his shoulders rigid, back straight.

“I didn’t know if you would help.” Her voice was quiet, not angry or accusatory. But his fists clenched as heat flooded his face, his head throbbing. ‘You're untrustworthy and selfish and immature. Why the hell would I trust you?’

He was fucking this up. Again. Useless.

Jiang Cheng refused to dig himself a deeper hole. About 10 minutes too late. Without a word, he stopped darkening her door. Instead of going to his room and ordering a bath like he should have, he looked for Wei Wuxian, blood pulsing in his ears. Stalking through the halls, he scattered several anxious servants in his wake like ripples behind him.

When he found him, he actually was in his room, though the puppet was on an extra mattress on the floor instead of on the bed like Jiang Cheng had imagined. The room reeked of resentful energy--sour, burning, metallic. Old bile and blood and worse. Wei Wuxian himself was hunched over it with a brush and seemed to be adding to the fluttering layer of talismans that already festooned the prone form. It even took a minute for him to realize Jiang Cheng was in the doorway, but when he did, he leapt to his feet, haggard face anxious. “Shijie?”

“...Sleeping.”

“What did Wen Qing say? Will she be alright?”

“No thanks to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath. Then, he perked up, coming over to gently shake Jiang Cheng by the shoulders with a reproachful smile. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, lead with that next time, will you? You appear at my door looking like you’re about to avenge someone, what am I supposed to think?”

Smacking Wei Wuxian’s hands off his shoulders didn’t do anything to change his attitude. He just grimaced playfully and said, “Ow, careful! Now be nice, we’ll all be in trouble if you damage these hands,” while wiggling his fingers. It made the sharp rage in Jiang Cheng’s chest flare. It made him want to punch his stupid face.

“This is your fault.”

At this point, it was like they pulled out a script book for some overdone play, a rulebook outlining the steps to their fight. The brush off. Wei Wuxian looked past him, craning his head to peer out the door. “Where’s Wen Qing and A-Yuan? I wanted to tell her how Wen Ning is doing.”

The jab. “Are you even listening to me?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at him, shrugging his shoulders as if letting the words just slide off of him with a stretch of his arms. The dismissal. “Ah, you’re always scolding me, so what’s the point in listening to you when you’re just saying the same things you have been for days? I’ll pay attention when you say something new. You’re so predictable.”

The snap; Jiang Cheng snarled, “How’s this, then? It’s your fault that A-jie is so sick.” He jabbed Wei Wuxian in the chest with his finger, knocking him back a step, pursuing. “It’s your fault if the Jin decide to wipe us all out again.” Another jab, another step. The insouciant air slid from Wei Wuxian’s face--instead, it was tight, the beginning of regret.

“Listen--”

“This is your fault and you’re not even sorry.”

A deep breath. “Jiang Cheng--”

He needed him mad. He needed him to stop moving away. “You weren’t thinking of anyone but yourself, like you always do. You’re making me take in and marry the people who killed my parents to protect you.” He could see Wei Wuxian bristle--because he knew it wasn’t quite true, it wasn’t really fair but Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

“What are you even saying? They’ve both saved us a hundred times over! These people are innocent, they were being brutalized, I had no choice--!”

“You always have a choice!” Jiang Cheng was shouting, now. “You just choose the one that causes the biggest scene! First you embarrass me in front of all the other Clan Leaders, then you kill Jin disciples and steal their prisoners--!”

“What right did they have to treat them that way? What crime did they commit?! I’m supposed to just leave them?!”

His outrage just fed the fury burning through Jiang Cheng, roaring in his ears, and he wanted to take his brother by the throat and shake him. He wanted him to be just as hurt and terrified as he was. He wanted him to stop acting so fucking noble, like it meant anything anymore after everything they had been through. His lungs burned from the resentful energy hanging in the air. Zidian sparked once, sizzling. “You always need to be the center of attention. Well congratulations, everyone’s looking at us, now! Aren’t you such a fucking hero? Isn’t it nice to have a shield that will rise up against every stupid thing you decide to do? When will it be enough?”

Wei Wuxian’s swallowed hard, jaw tight, eyes shining. “Do you think I wanted this?” He asked quietly, and Jiang Cheng had to bark a laugh that tasted bitter.

“No. I don’t think you thought at all. You just did whatever you wanted and expected the Jiang Clan to clean up after you.”

At this, Wei Wuxian looked away at the wall, shoulders bunched up, hands in fists at his side. “I wasn't...” he said tightly. “I was going to go. To take them--”

“Where?”

“I don’t know!” He snapped. “Somewhere I could keep them safe! I thought...maybe the Burial Mounds.”

A chill flooded through Jiang Cheng and he stared. “Are you insane? That hellhole?”

Wei Wuxian was still looking at the wall, though he swallowed again. “I could...control the resentful energy. Make it safe.” He clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

The thought alone had him reeling. Wei Wuxian really had been going to do it. He really would have left, after everything. After promising to rebuild Lotus Pier with him, to support him. After Jiang Cheng had fought so hard to find him the 3 months when he had been missing. After Jiang Cheng had stood by him when the war ended and everyone had started whispering about sinister ulterior motives--did Wei Wuxian have no concept of how this looked? “And do what? Establish your own Sect? Build your own empire? Should I call you Wei-zongzhu from now on?”

Wei Wuxian recoiled, face screwed up in disbelief as he finally faced him again. “No! What? No! Jiang Cheng, don’t be an idiot. I was going...I was going to take care of it myself. I wasn’t going to ask or involve you. I didn’t--I was going to handle it.”

That rage condensed and dropped sourly into his gut like sick. That was worse. That was so much worse. ‘I didn’t know if you would help.’ He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted that cleansing fury back. “Nice fucking job.”

Wei Wuxian vented a short, mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up.”

“I just d--” Wei Wuxian stopped himself, jaw working. When he spoke again, it was with careful containment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“What a stupid thing to say, of course I did,” Jiang Cheng snapped back. “What other choice did I have?”

“You could have just let me go. I would have been fine. You didn’t need to…you don’t need to put yourself out on my account.”

He would have preferred he had just fucking stabbed him. Honestly. Then who the fuck was he? Some acquaintance? Some stranger? To not ‘put himself out’--

He was really that easy to leave behind? Just that unremarkable, unneeded, unwanted? That every option, even the Burial Mounds where he had been trapped was preferable to staying with him in the home he had rebuilt with blood and sweat, plank by plank for them--for them, the only family he had left in this world.

What was so broken about Jiang Cheng that no one could possibly just love him as he was? What did he have to do to stop people from leaving him?

He wanted to stab Sandu through the corpse that used to be Wen Ning’s chest, tear off the talismans and throw him in the lake for the fish to take out of sight. To seize Wei Wuxian and scream; Stop letting go of me!

“Well, aren’t you so brave. Aren’t you so noble,” gritted out, all dark and vile, and Wei Wuxian flinched and Jiang Cheng would have felt triumphant if he didn’t feel so fucking awful instead.

“I had to.”

“You had to.”

Wei Wuxian said nothing. But he didn’t look ashamed. He just looked tired.

“Right. Because you’re so strong and powerful and right, always, and I’m the asshole who doesn’t care enough.”

“You know I never said that.”

“But that’s what you think. You still think that I didn’t do enough. That I didn’t do the right thing.”

Instead of fighting back--instead of denying it--Wei Wuxian let out a loud breath, shook his head and turned away to drop himself heavily beside the mattress on the floor. This retreat left Jiang Cheng completely empty. His nails cut into his palm and he was shaking all over, staring down at Wei Wuxian as he picked up another talisman, not looking at him. They had had this conversation already, in fits and starts on the race back to Lotus Pier, but hadn’t been able to fully say any of this around A-jie or the Wen’s and so had just jabbed at each other for days. But here, it was all unraveling at once like too tight bandages coming off. He craved a conclusion--the give and take of a shouting match or the clarity of a split lip and Wei Wuxian wasn’t giving it to him.

Couldn't. If it came to blows, Jiang Cheng would just hurt him.

And why was that, again?

His brother's face was gaunt as he ignored him, eyes shadowed, fingers raw and red with blood and cinnabar. Still working. Giving. He was always giving of himself to everyone. His protection, his trust, his love, his time.

His core.

Just more proof that he was better; kinder, more generous, better in every way. Well. Not every way, now. The overworked core gave an untimely twinge. But that even bore his fingerprints, didn’t it? His sacrifice. (He had tried so hard, so fucking hard to give Wei Wuxian something that only he could give, the only protection, the only apology Jiang Cheng had left for what he had blamed him for. And he had shoved it right back like an unwanted gift.)

Jiang Cheng wasn't special, though. That knowledge bristled in his throat like knives, now. What he had done for Jiang Cheng wasn't because he loved him--apparently, it was because it was the right thing to do.

And Wei Wuxian always did the right thing. He would have done it for anyone.

Jiang Cheng's eyes went to the talismans fluttering in the dark breeze. It was the Cloud Recesses, the Yin Iron, the oh-so-perfect-and-peerless-and-interesting-Lan-Wangji all over again. Leaving Jiang Cheng behind to go be a hero because he just didn’t fucking matter enough to keep around. Because Wei Wuxian thought he was pathetic and selfish.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were burning, his voice shaking when he spat, “Great. Then just keep trying to make yourself a better shidi out of that thing. I’m sure it will never stop kissing your ass.”

On his way back to his room, he snapped at a young servant girl to order a bath for Wen Qing. She practically ran.

Nice fucking job, idiot.

Crashing face first onto his bed, he fell into unconsciousness immediately.

#peony to lotus #my fic #my stuff #This is one of those times where I'm not even sure I like this I just need to /get it out of my face/ so I can move on x.x #[points at jc] you'd better behave better next time or I will never write your POV again do you hear me young man? That was NIGHTMARE-ISH #I cut a LOVELY CONVERSATION BECAUSE OF YOU

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years

Text

Moving Day- Din Djarin x Reader

This superb moodboard is done by the fabulous @jedi-jesi

A/n: Well, here it is! I hope you guys enjoy.

This is the next part to my Days Fillled with Love series. You can find the first part here! :)

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

It’s comical how all seven of you will try and squeeze into the cockpit. Din pilots while Myles sits on his lap. Reeza is in the small seat to his left with Grogu on her own lap. You sit on the seat to the right with both the twins in your arms.

Usually just Din will pilot while teaching Myles the beginnings of flying. Reeza and Grogu will play in the main hull, and you’ll have the twins. Sometimes, you’ll sit next to him and watch as he explains things to Myles. Or, if all the kids are asleep, you’ll sit on him yourself. Albeit, everyone is so excited that you all just ended up in the cockpit together.

Today is the day you fly to your new home. The house is located on a small outer rim planet, not known by many people. It’s perfect for living safely with Grogu. Neither the empire nor the republic mapped this planet as valuable. Thus, it has no official name.

It’s similar to Naboo almost. Lakes cover the planet with large flower fields and some forests.

It’s perfect.

“Dad, is that it?” Myles points out the window to something. Looking up, you watch as the Crest approaches a good sized lakehouse.

“That’s it!”

“Wait, I wanna see!” Reeza jumps down from the seat and places Grogu on the ground. She reaches her fathers knee and begins to climb up it.

“Hey, I’m on Dad’s lap.”

“Come here.” Din says as he reaches down and lifts his daughter up onto his shoulders. She squeals and giggles the whole way up. “Hold on.” Her little hands grab the sides of his head and she locks her feet under his armpits. Grogu coos from the floor and pats Din’s leg. “You too?”

The child's big eyes look up at him and he starts his own climb up his father. Myles reaches down and sets him on his own lap.

You bite back a laugh at the sight of them. Your husband overrun with children, while he presses buttons and pulls levers.

“Okay, everyone hold on, we’re landing.”

***

As soon as you open the door, two children rush by you and up the stairs.

“I want this room!” Reeza shouts and you can hear a door slam shut. Grogu waddles up the stairs after them, wanting to be included in the fun. The twins are fast asleep in their cribs, taking their daily nap seriously.

Laughing quietly you walk in the door, one large palm rests on your lower back. However, it’s not a forceful or guideful hand, more of an assurance that he’s there.

He hasn’t always been as touchy as he is now. When you first were crewmates he was stoic and quiet. He never really talked to you, or to anyone. However, after a few months of you taking care of the kid and just being around he started to really notice you.

Fingertips would start brushing against your shoulder as he passed you. Or he would fully turn to look at you when you spoke, giving you his full attention. One time when he nearly died and you ran to hug him, he didn’t shy away like usual. In fact, he opened his arms and pulled you against him. Holding you tight as he whispers words of untold love.

Now though, he is always touching you in some way. Whether it's his hand on your back as you both walk, or his knee brushing against yours under a table. He needs you the most though at night when he wakes up from a nightmare, echoes of his family's screams playing over and over like a broken record. Memories of the day he lost his parents still haunting him and plaguing him with the thought that it could happen to his own children.

These times he just tucks himself into your embrace, molding his form to your own. His hands move along your skin, tracing memorized skin. You never speak of it, but you can feel the warm tears rush down your shoulder as they fall from his eyes. His mouth moves over your skin, flooding his senses with you. One of your hands will softly tug at his hair while the other rubs along the tense muscles in his back. Sometimes you’ll talk to him about your day, or what the kids did while he was away. Sometimes you’ll just softly hum a tune. But you always tell him over and over how much you love him.

“What are you thinking about cyar’ika?” Din’s voice snaps you from your thoughts.

Your hand reaches up to cup his cheek as you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Mmm, just you.”

A smile forms on his face and he chuckles, “Better be good things.”

“No promises.” Giggling, you run away from him and into the house.

“Hey! Come back here.” You can hear the amusement in his voice as he chases you.

Running out the back door and into the field, you slow your pace and let out a breath. Turning towards the lake you smile. It really is a perfect spot to raise a family.

But before you can ponder any longer, a firm slap cracks on your bottom and two arms wrap around your waist.

“Din!” You gasp as another set of giggles falls from your lips. Wiggling around, you try to slide out of his hold.

“Mm no, I’ve caught you.” His helmetless head rests on your shoulder and his mouth attaches to your skin.

He turns you around in his hold so he can face you. Smiling, you press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi handsome.”

With his own grin, he grabs your hips and lifts you. You wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him as close as you can. A scream sounds throughout the meadow when he falls to the ground. Rolling on top of you, he plasters kiss after kiss on your face. You’re all giggles and smiles.

Leaning back, he looks down at you, a big dopey smile plastered on his features. “You’re so beautiful.” His fingers find your hand and play with the beskar wedding ring you wear.

It amazes you how he can still make your cheeks heat up and your heart skip a beat after all these years. “Hehe, thank you.”

He hums his approval before diving back down to meet your lips.

***

The sun sets under the horizon, casting pinks and oranges throughout the sky. Crickets start to play their songs and some fireflies start to dance.

You’re sitting between your husband's legs, back up against his chest. His fingers lazily trail along the neckline of your shirt.

Myles, Reeza, and Grogu are running around in the field, trying to catch the glowing bugs. You know Myles and Reeza want them to look at, but you’re not so sure about Grogu’s intentions.

Your theory proves correct when as soon as he gets his little hands on one, it goes straight into his mouth. Reeza looks at him with disgust before going back to her own mission of capturing.

Isabet rests against your chest, soft breaths tickling your skin as she sleeps. Tobbi leans against your own leg, his eyes watching his siblings play. Din’s hand leaves your neckline to softly brush his daughter’s hair.

“They both look like you, again.”

His body shakes as a chuckle falls from his lips.

“Don’t laugh, as handsome as you are, it’s frustrating.”

Your comment only adds fuel to his amusement and he is full of laughs now.

“Stop it!” The slight shake in your voice gives away your own glee.

A kiss is pressed to the back of your neck. “I love you cyare.”

Smiling, you lean back into his hold. “Love you too, dominant genes and everything.”

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

Next Part: Stormy Day

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! Just wanted to say again how much I appreciate each and every one of you!

Love you guys, Lordy :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi

If you want to be added to my taglist- just give me a holler!

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #days filled with love #mother!reader

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hawksugarbaby · 3 years

Text

Tokoyami x reader- Big city, small pond

Fluff + Nature took back the earth AU combined with fantasy AU

You didn't take a breath before sinking back down from the side of the moss overrun pavement into the flooded road, deepened after many years of abrasion and sinkholes popping open intermittently. Deep enough for anything to swim in at least, though clementine traffic cone's still floated and drain covers for manholes had rusted and chipped away at the side. Litter still filled the bottom of the sinkhole but had all seemed to collect in the deep abysses. Metal benches were still bolted to the floor but had new river weeds and algae wrapped around each section of the skeleton but it was a wonderful place for anything to sit.

Your gills split open on your neck and you walked the depths of the "river" the reflection of miraculously working street signs for takeaways that greedy humans reopened over and over no matter how many times mother nature reclaimed the earth. Your finger's brushed the scales of an orange carp darting past you and you kicked your leg's out, turning them to an iridescent (f/c) fishtail, ending and transforming to human at the hips, your skirt clung to the tail under the water and your flowy t-shirt billowed out when you moved sharply, turning a corner or halting quickly to watch something.

Your tail kicked up rocks and dust which swirled in the water and settled at the bottom again as sediment. You scoffed at a human dropping a paper wrapper into the water that turned too much and landed on the floor, a few balls of red and white paper landing on your arm then tumbling off.

You popped your head up feeling a lily pad drooping down over your hair and covering your right eye. "Hey!" you shouted but the human was on his knees looking into the water in annoyance "Excuse me! I don't appreciate your wrapper dissolving in my river!" you shouted and he lifted his head, ruby eyes fluttered to you pulling the lily pad off your head, flopping it back onto the water where it drifted further away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop it, I was trying to find it now" he sighed in annoyance at the knowledge it was gone. He sat cross legged at the side and tilted his head looking at you. "Mermaid?" it was definitely supposed to be a question but it sounded more like a surprise than curiosity. You rolled your eyes and repeated his word in a mocking tone "oh mermaid? No. I'm not a mermaid, I'm a nymph obviously. How would you like it if i just assumed you were a crow!" you crossed your arms, your tail fins swishing back and forth impatiently. "I suppose I'd be most irritated" he scratched the back of his neck and hung his head.

You sighed swimming closer to the edge and rested your forearms on the kerb next to him. "It's whatever. Not like you city folk would know a difference anyway. Mother nature did all she could to reclaim the earth as hers and you still poison us with your plastic and oil and deforestation" you listed the minimum amount of things humans had done yet it was still enough for him to feel a guilty punch to the gut. "I'm sorry for what my species did to the earth" he spoke on behalf of a race that didn't care. The human race. But it was nice to hear an apology for once instead of someone claiming it wasn't their fault.

"My name is tokoyami fumikage" he held out his hand and you took it, the web's between your fingers stretching out slightly and you analyse him curiously "(y/n) macdonald." he nodded and smiled at you politely "You have a very nice tail" he said unsure how to continue your conversation, it wasn't like he could just ask you to get up and join him for a dinner and get to know you, though honestly he wasn't sure how nymphs worked, for all he know maybe you could? "Thank you. It's my favourite colour!" you grinned swishing it behind you and hopping on the edge on the path with all your strength.

You kicked your tail out and they transformed into legs dipping into the water and creating ripples around your calves and he stared amazed at your split appendages, skirt still hugging your thighs nicely and your t-shirt stuck to you like a puppy with abandonment issues.

"The difference by the way. This is the difference between mermaids and nymphs. Mermaids are usually really rude too" you explained, picking a string of riverweed from your leg and flinging it into the water to drift along the shore or sink to the bottom. He hummed in response since he couldn't agree or disagree, for now he would stay a neutral party unwilling to get on your bad side again. "I see. How did you end up here anyway aren't nymphs supposed to be out in like... rivers and lakes?" he queried and you sighed looking at the murky water sadly, missing the feel of your own river. "Uh, when mother nature decided to shift stuff around and the big tsunami flood thingy came it flooded my river and we all ended up somewhere different. Maybe it was on purpose but I ended up here" you swung your legs in the water tapping the stone ground with your fingers.

You missed the smell of earth surrounding your crystalline lake running off into smaller streams and your favourite river for finding pebbles in. you missed the fluffy flax seed that stuck to you when you were drying off in the long grass by the bank and that floated on top of the water for fish to pop up and suction down into their stomach. You missed your friends mostly, almost sisterly bonds between all of you now severed and spread across all of japan.

"I miss home really. For all I know my friends could be home waiting for me" you exhaled deeply and tokoyami sadly glanced at you wondering how far your legs could take you. "What if I helped you get home?" he asked and you jumped excitedly. "You would really help me! Don't you have school or friends or anything? Are you sure you can help?!" you blabbered for a minute or so about how inconvenient it would be and how you didn't know how far you would have to go until he stopped you. "My school is on break right now so I have about 2 months off before I need to go back. Most of my friends are going to look for a cause of the reclamation too since half our school is unusable since it started so I have no qualms helping you"

You jumped up and down giddy and dove back in the water splashing him with water that rolled off his feathers, soaking the choker on his neck and you apologised. "I'm just so excited to go home! Thank you so much!"

And so began your long journey to your home. You passed hundreds of abandoned buildings crumbling to nothing with vines twisted up the sides and supersized branches through the shattered windows, ivy had crawled up the walls of every structure you passed and you talked aimlessly along the way. "So mother nature is-" "a goddess inside the earth" tokoyami nodded at your explanation and looked around in understanding. One of her creations had destroyed the other, the necessary one, and she was proving that humans were expendable. "I'd be pissed too if my home was being filled with gross plastic." you giggled and smiled thankful that someone finally took you as sane, you were tired of truth seekers who didn't like the truth they gave them. They had too much blame on them so they went to find something else.

A month flew by quickly, you spent as much time swimming along streams that you could but of course not every path was filled with water, so it was a long journey for someone who wasn't used to walking barefoot on the actual ground for huge periods of time.

"What are your friends like?" Tokoyami asked, pushing a bish out the way for you to crouch through and you hummed, "caring. They care about a lot of things like climate change, obviously, but also silly stuff like um the best wood to carve you and your significant other's name in, or which leaves are the shiniest at golden hour. We have to make up fun little games or we'd just get bored" you smiled and he chuckled. They sounded similar to you, pointing out tiny details on your quest like spiderwebs covered in dew hidden in the grass, or perfectly round stone's that were shiny in the sun, it made sense you wanted to get back to them so badly.

The trees opened up to an empty circle of grass and a circle not much smaller of water, flowing over the sides of the bowl into the grass and streams wound along into their own segments of the forest. "Home... i'm home! I'm home i'm home i'm home!" you cried jumping up and down and sprinting into the gorgeous blue water and immediately your legs changed to your (f/c) tail, glowing in the sun as you floated on your back and soaked up the water. "Come in come in!!" you shouted while waving at tokoyami.

You had taken rest stops at old hotels and decrepit houses to check for water and of course food and sleep but there was enough civilization along the way to keep you going. But tokoyami hadn't had a bath, a real bath, one he didn't have to fill with a showerhead, in a month and god he wanted to relax desperately.

He peeled off his sticky t-shirt and hung it over a tree branch dipping into the water and relaxing immediately. "This is surprisingly warm" he muttered watching you splash around joyfully and sunk under the water. It was so clean he could keep his eyes open and watch you dip in and out of the water bouncing like a dolphin.

You swam over to him and he sat back up shaking the water out of his feathers and you smiled hugging him tightly "thank you for taking me here. I wish I could help you get back home but I don't think i'd make it back here myself. You sighed and he shook his head. "It's okay, I have other ways of getting home. I don't have to leave right now. I'll stay for another fortnight but then I probably have to go" he looked at his phone glad he had data and could contact hawks at the click of a button.

In 14 days that went by like rapids over rocks tokoyami had to say goodbye and hawks picked him up from your spot on the way back from a mission. 2 of your friends had also found their way home so you weren't lonely and tokoyami had promised to visit. "Okay and be safe home okay! I hope I see you soon!" you shouted as hawks lifted him into the air and he nodded in a silent agreement and waved.

"See you soon (y/n)!" he shouted back and you jumped in a wave as they disappeared into the bright blue sky reflected in your lake.

"Sooo..." one of your sisters sidled up next to you and you blushed "don't even! I know what you're going to say" you shoved her away and she laughed at you teasintly.

"Soo..." hawks started and tokoyami rolled his eye's "no hawks"

#bnha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #wattpad #mha #boku no hero fanfic #tokoyami fumikage x reader #tokoyami fumigake #tokoyami x reader #fumikakage x reader

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flyingkiki · 3 years

Text

A Very Merry Christmas (1/4)

I've been working on this since December last year, in hopes of giving you a steamy Christmas. But life, anxiety, and the shitstorm of 2020 came in the way. But either way, I worked through this, got all chapters ready for some regular steamy #TimRae goodness. I'll post regularly so all chapters will be out soon. Enjoy this first steamy TimRae nugget, my loves!

Notes: Messed around with ages and timelines. I like Tim and Raven in a more adult setting, past their teenage years. Doesn’t strictly follow any universe, rather a mix of this and that. They're adults and Damian is still a pre-teen kid.

Part Two of my Vanilla Series. Because Tim is a k!nky boi, and we know it. Here's Part 1: Flavor: Vanilla.

Chapter 1

“How many estates does the Wayne family have?”

As they were driving up the icy road, Raven warily eyed the large house decked in a thick blanket of snow. When Tim mentioned they’d be spending Christmas week at the family vacation home, she certainly did not expect another mansion in the outskirts of Gotham, tucked away by a range of trees and lush snowy forest cover. She thought of a cottage by the forest – not an 8-bedroom and 10-bathroom monstrosity of a home. Raven blinked and looked out the window. Was that a tennis court she just saw?

“There are a few,” Tim chuckled and they neared his childhood home. He eyed the home fondly and shot Raven a brief smile. “This one is Bruce’s favorite. We spend a lot of holidays and summers here,”

Hard to imagine that in between all the vigilante and business work, and all the dysfunctional family disasters and ill-managed feelings, the Wayne’s somehow were still able to spend some time together as a family. Raven had quickly learned after the rift between Tim and the rest of the family with losing and finding Bruce in the time stream, and all the tension between all the siblings for one reason or another, Bruce (or likely Alfred) had made it more of a habit for the family to gather whenever possible. Over the years as they have grown older, old wounds have somewhat healed. Somewhat.

“I cannot picture Bruce Wayne as the fishing-by-the-lake kind of father,” Raven mumbled, absently eyeing the snowy white trees whizzing past them.

“He likes to take Damian the lake when the brat is out of school during summers,”

Raven hummed in acknowledgement and watched as they finally approached a security gate. They’ve been driving for hours and it came to a relief that she’d be finally be able to stretch her legs. But the idea of finally, officially, meeting the Wayne family “outside of work” unsettled her. Worry loomed in the pit of her stomach as they drove up the driveway of the large house made of intricate stonework, impossibly large windows, and aged wood. She inhaled softly, staring at the home muted by the thick blanket of snow. It was beautiful.

“Who drives a motorcycle in the middle of winter?” Raven frowned when they drove past a large motorcycle covered in snow carefully parked next to pine trees.

“Jason,” said Tim as they finally came to a stop under the car shed next to Bruce’s Bugatti. Who drives a Bugatti in the middle of a cold wave? Raven eyed the car.

“We’re here,” Tim announced. A blanket of silence dropped over them with only the soft noise of the engine filling the air, Tim allowed Raven to process their arrival. He watched as she stared out the car window, taking in the snowy garden.

After the Killer Croc incident and the discovery of the rather embarrassingly ill-placed hickey, the entire family assumed that he was seeing someone. For a period, Jason had been talking non-stop about Tim’s sex life (“Dude, you are a kinky piece of shit.”) and Bruce had dropped invitations to holiday and gala dinners, which Raven remained hesitant to attend. After a year of postponing dinners, they did finally decide to attend this Christmas getaway after Alfred told Tim “It would be nice to finally meet your partner, Master Tim. I would like to meet and thank her for taking care of you, my boy. It would be wonderful to get to know her,” he said. And that was that. No one declines Alfred.

It was a miracle that they kept the relationship under wraps for over a year now. Tim understood Raven’s need for privacy and her hesitation to meet Bruce. Some wounds still ran deep, no matter how long ago their first encounter was. The thought still left a bad taste in his mouth, the idea of a young Raven being turned down by the Justice League. He knew that there was still bad blood between her and Zatanna while Clark tried his best to make up for their hasty decisions over her. He watched Raven inhale softly and fiddle with one of the silver rings on her left finger. “Hey,” he said softly and reached out to touch her hand. Deep blue eyes stared back at him and he cracked a soft smile. “All good?”

Raven returned the small smile and tilted her head just a little bit. “You think very loudly,” she said and adjusted her hand in his so they could hold hands. Years ago, she’d shy away from this kind of contact. It was strange how time has changed her. She watched Tim’s smile brighten and she released a nervous breath she was holding. “Yeah, I’m good,”

Tim gave her hand an encouraging squeezing. “We don’t have to do this, you know?”

“I know,” Raven replied. “But I guess now is a good time as any,”

He gave her hand another encouraging squeeze. “It’s not like they don’t know you anyway,”

Raven snorted ungracefully and rolled her eyes. “I’ve spent more time with everyone in that house in masks and Kevlar than unmasked. I’m thrilled to see everyone in their silk PJs,” she said dryly.

“I guess now’s the best time to meet everybody unmasked,” Tim told her. He released her hand and turned to shut the engine. He turned back to her and smiled, grabbing her arm and gently tugging her towards him. He pressed a long kiss against her lips. “C’mon. Let’s go inside,”

They stepped out of Tim’s warm car and into the biting cold. It was mid-afternoon and it was already slowly getting dark, and everything was becoming colder. Raven made a face and pulled the grey bonnet over her ears and joined Tim by the trunk. They pulled out their duffle bags and slowly trekked towards the front doors of the mansion (calling the monstrosity of a house a cottage in the woods would seem insulting). Raven eyed the house in awe and apprehension.

Hurrying up the wooden stairs and stomping off the snow from their boots by the worn mat, Tim fished out his keys from his pants. Throwing her a curious look, he slid the silver key into the lock. “Ready?”

Raven made a face and her eyes momentarily slid towards one of the frosted windows, seeing warm light past the heavy curtains. “Not really,”

“Raven,” Tim breathed, eyes widening, and his hand stilled.

Raven rolled her eyes and gently nudged his shoulder. “I’m kidding. C’mon, I’m freezing, and I need to pee,” she whispered teasingly.

“Tease,” Tim grinned at her gasp as his cold nose pressed against her cheek for a quick peck. Turning back to the door, he unlocked it and quickly opened the heavy front door. As they entered the welcome warmth of the foyer, they were greeted by the familiar movie soundtrack of the Grinch. Removing their coats and leaving their bags for later, Tim led Raven towards the living room. “We’re here!” he announced.

“Timbo, in here!” They heard Dick from the other room over the noise of the Grinch followed by low muttering and scuffling. “Sit up, Jason! Don’t embarrass us in front of his girlfriend!”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dickface,”

“Hey guys,” Tim entered the large living room and found his whole family scattered across the ridiculously large leather sofa and carpeted floor. He felt Raven hesitate beside him before appearing next to him and Tim snorted at the collective response of shock and surprise from everyone.

“Hey Timbers – oh my fuck.”

“Master Jason, language!”

“Raven?!”

In hindsight, perhaps it was a bad idea for her to just join the family for their Christmas weekend as every single member of the Wayne family openly stared at Raven and Tim. Raven inhaled softly and took a step back as she felt the onslaught of emotions. She watched the open surprise cross Bruce face, and she quickly averted her gaze to Dick, who gaped at her like a fish. Yep, definitely not a good idea. An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she felt out of place.

“Raven,”

She turned to Bruce again and she blinked as the man rose from his seat on the sofa, a rather ugly throw blanket slipping from his thighs. She quirked a nervous smile and breathed. “Hi,” she said. Blinking, she waved lamely. “I brought wine?”

“You and Tim?” Dick blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. How did his second-in-command start dating his younger brother? How did he even miss this? “How? When?” Dick blinked lamely. “Huh?”

“Raven!” a small lithe bundle of a soft green Christmas sweater bounded towards the couple and hugged Raven. “It’s you!”

“Hi Cass,” Raven chuckled and hugged the younger woman. Over Cass’s shoulder she and Tim exchanged small smiles. Raven always had a soft spot for Tim’s sister. Cass turned in Raven’s arms and eyed Tim with a playful look and nudged his shoulder. “You kept secret!”

“Sorry,” Tim laughed and waved his hands in defense.

“Perhaps Miss Raven and Master Tim would like to freshen up a bit before we have some afternoon tea? Or hot chocolate. I’d think that would be a great idea, don’t you think?” Alfred said this with an air of finality as he stood up and briefly glanced at his wards before turning to the couple and smiling kindly at them. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Raven.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Raven smiled, tension leaving her shoulders. She pulled away from Cass and the girls gently squeezed hands.

Tim cleared his throat at the collective surprise still in the room. Bouncing on his heels, he turned to Raven. “Okay. Bathroom?” Raven nodded, relief flooding her face at the chance to escape the awkward introductions. Turning back to his flustered family, he rolled his eyes and absently took Raven’s hand. “We’ll be back. You guys get it together,” he told them before turning on his heels and gently tugging Raven back to the foyer.

Leaving the surprised family in the living room (“You guys better not get handsy up there” “Jasssssonn!”), Tim and Raven picked up their bags and made it to Tim’s old bedroom. Raven raised an eyebrow in amusement at the sight of old band posters on the wall.

“Bathroom’s over there,” Tim pointed toward the door in the corner that led to the private bathroom. Raven hummed in acknowledgement, still keyed up from all the emotions downstairs.

After puttering around in the bathroom and washing her face, Raven emerged from the rather ridiculously luxurious personal bathroom (she was definitely going to take a long, hot bath and put up some scented candles in there) and found Tim absently tinkering with an old laptop on his desk. Ignoring Tim, she walked around his old bedroom, taking in old books lined in a bookshelf. Finding some curious titles, she thought she might want to check out for later. She smiled and picked up an old Superman action figure. She moved to the wall that held a few of Tim’s old photographs. An old gritty photograph of Gotham Tower with the Bat Symbol illuminated behind it hung in the middle of an array of landscape photos.

“I took that when I was 9,” Tim said, joining her by the wall and pulling the old action figure of Clark out of her hands. They shared a smile as he waved Superman’s arms around lamely before dropping it back on the shelf.

“You haven’t done photography for some time,” Raven commented.

“Been busy. You know, saving Gotham, running a company, staying alive,” Tim smiled and watched as Raven quirked her lips in response. He watched her move around his old room in curiosity, taking in old trinkets and photos, eyeing books and posters, and smiling fondly at old memorabilia. He felt a warmth spread inside of him as he watched Raven, in her oversized grey kitten sweater, study parts of his old life. While life as a Wayne (and a Drake) was beyond messy, he realized that this – the sight of Raven gently pressed against the large windows of his old room watching snow gently fall into the garden – was something he wanted Raven to be a part of in his life and share more with her – mess and everything.

Raven looked over the shoulder, offering a rare smile at the gentle press of his warm emotions. “You’re on vacation now. Maybe we can walk around and take some photos,” she said. She watched Tim join her by the window and wrap an arm around her waist. He offered her a gentle smile. “I’d like that.”

“So,” Tim breathed, a warm lilt in his voice as he looked at her. “What do you think so far?”

Raven tilted her head and hummed. “Do you think they’d mind if I just spend my entire time here in this room?” she asked teasingly.

Tim laughed and squeezed her hip. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, her held her close and allowed his hand to slip underneath her sweater for another gentle squeeze. “As much as I’d like to keep you in my childhood bedroom, I don’t think Alfred would approve.” He mumbled into her hair.

Raven hummed and shifted in his arms, she looked over his shoulders at his ridiculously large bed and back up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “But there is so much we could do in here,” she said.

Tim laughed softly and pulled her closer to him, relishing the soft press of her against him. “Oh, believe me, I have plans for you,” he said against her cheek and grinned at her soft chuckle. He gave her hip a teasing squeeze before kissing her fully on the lips. He had missed her; they had not seen each other the last few weeks because of her off-earth mission. He had every intention of making sure they made up for lost time in his old bedroom.

Raven hummed against his lips before pulling away, a small smile playing on her lips. “Such loud dirty thoughts, Tim Wayne” she teased and gently nudged him away. Rolling her eyes at the guilty chuckle, she stepped out of his arms and brushed her hair back with her hands. “Do you think we should go back downstairs?”

“Yeah, let’s. I promise you that Alfred’s hot chocolate is to die for,” Tim said while leading her out of the bedroom.

If the rich chocolate smell was any indication, Alfred’s hot chocolate smelled divine. Raven blinked, trying to come to terms of the domesticity of the entire scene in front of her – Bruce Wayne, Batman, in comfortable house slippers and a grey sweater that probably cost more than what she made each month, carrying a tray of sugar cookies into the sitting room. The rest of his brood were gathered around a glass coffee table, with steaming porcelain mugs in their hands.

Cass perked up around her mug at the sight of Raven and Tim entering the room. She waved them over from where she sat curled up next to the table within easy reach of the cookies that Bruce just deposited on the table. “Come, sit!”

Bruce’s raised his eyebrows at the couple and he straightened. He looked at Tim for a brief moment before locking eyes with Raven. It momentarily startled him to see the woman in front of him, out of her uniform, a much older version of that young girl he had met so many years ago begging for their help. The memory unsettled him for a moment, a shift of emotions he was sure Raven caught as her head tilted just a fraction of an inch and she blinked. He smiled instead and placed the cookie tray on the table as she and Tim approach the group.

“Hi, Bruce,” Raven greeted Bruce, barely catching his mix of emotions and she smiled lightly up at the older man.

“Hello, Raven. It’s nice to have you with us.” Bruce eyes shift to towards Tim and he quirked an amused eyebrow. “It’s quite a Christmas surprise,”

“A rather pleasant one, if I may add,” pipped in Alfred as he appeared with a tray of more mugs of hot chocolate. He and Raven exchanged smiles. Raven always liked Alfred.

“Sit,” Cass grabbed Raven’s hand and tugged her towards the coffee table, obviously thrilled to have a girl in the house to spend time with. Raven smiled and allowed herself to be tugged to the floor next to Cass. She shared a quick amused glance at Tim before turning to the younger woman as she pressed a hot mug of chocolate into her hands. “Drink.”

“Thanks,” Raven smiled and folded her legs underneath her. The hot chocolate smelled delicious and the heat of the mug warmed her cold hands. She felt some of her tension slowly melt away.

“Why didn’t I know about you two!” Dick exclaimed from his perch on the loveseat. He sent hurt looks to both Raven and Tim. His blue eyes widened in realization. “So that’s where you run off to sometimes. You said you’re going to a museum!”

“To be fair, I did,” said Raven, sending Dick an amused look before taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. It was delicious. She hummed in approval and shared a small smile with Cass.

“Just with me most of the time,” Tim grinned at Dick after gabbing one of the mugs from the table and plopping down into the large sofa he shared with Bruce.

“Soooo,” Jason announced sounding terribly smug from where he was sprawled out over an overstuffed armchair. He lolled his head towards Raven and his green eyes shone with mischief. “It was you who gave Timbers that crotch hickey.”

“Jason!”

Dick coughed loudly into hot chocolate, chocking on one too many marshmallows. He did not need to know that. “Jason, damn it!”

“Language, boys!” Bruce sighed loudly and watched as Jason grinned smugly at Raven, their houseguest – Tim’s secret girlfriend. And thanks to Jason’s not so gentle reminder, said culprit of Tim’s large hickey he had the misfortune of seeing many months ago. He sunk into his seat in the sofa and mentally groaned at the terrible mental image. He really did not want anything to do with his sons’ sex lives. They were all adults, but still – Bruce sighed.

Of course. Trust Jason Todd to bring up sex. Ignoring Tim’s embarrassment and the heat that crept up her cheeks, Raven narrowed her eyes and stared back at an amused Jason waiting for her answer. “Yes.”

“Raven!” Dick whined.

Jason cackled and hot chocolate dangerously sloshed around in his expensive porcelain mug. “I like her!”

Bruce sighed and took another long drink of Alfred’s hot chocolate. He needed sugar. Thank god Damian was out walking Titus, he definitely did not need his 13-year-old son to hear about Tim’s sex life. Or hearing it confirmed by Raven.

As if on cue, the front door opened and Damian announced his arrival. There was quiet shuffling in the background and a distinct bark before the Damian’s monstrosity of a dog came bounding into the room followed by his youngest son. Damian blinked in confusion at the sight of Raven talking to Cass, obviously wondering what the Titan was doing here. Titus on the other hand stood at attention at the sight of the newcomer and barked briefly at Raven, gaining her attention, before lying down a few feet away from her and watching her cautiously with a loud whine.

“Is there a mission?” asked Damian, eyeing Raven quizzically before turning to Dick and then to Bruce.

Jason snorted and swung his socked feet over the armrest. Taking a rather dangerous sip of his hot chocolate from his precarious position on the armchair, he grinned in amusement at the little brat. “Please meet Timmy’s girlfriend,” he said dramatically, theatrically waiving at Raven with his mug.

Damian eyes widened briefly before shooting Tim a quick glance and turning to a mildly amused Raven. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her dryly.

“Hey!”

Raven chuckled softly. She shared an amused smile with an indignant Tim before turning back to an unfazed Damian. He stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do. They had rarely interacted outside of missions, the boy had held her at arm’s length at times – probably because of whatever knowledge he had of her from his grandfather and the League. Though she wouldn’t blame him, she’d hold herself at arm’s length too. She titled her head, the corner of her lips quirking slightly as she sensed the young boy’s unsure emotions. “It’s nice to see you again, Damian,” she said.

Damian blinked. His gaze shifted back to Tim, who was watching him intently. Turning back to Raven, he stiffly nodded. “Welcome to our home,” he replied automatically.

“Such an exciting welcome wagon you are,” Jason said dryly, shooting the short boy a teasing smirk while helping himself to another mug of hot chocolate.

“Dami have some hot chocolate,” Dick beckoned Damian towards the coffee table as he heaped another healthy spoonful of marshmallows into his mug. Raven always wondered how Dick’s sugar levels seemed to do so well during Cyborg’s annual physicals.

While Damian busied himself in pouring his own mug, Dick looked curiously at Raven and Tim, watching in astonishment as Raven handed over her phone for Tim to keep as she sat cross-legged on the floor next to Cass. He watched Tim stuff the device into his pocket and Dick blinked – it was so odd to see Raven allow such simple intimate acts around her. When Gar tried to even touch her phone, he would be blasted off the roof. He pulled himself out of his reverie as Damian unceremoniously plopped down next to him and Dick nearly spilled his drink. Catching Raven’s eyes, Dick smiled brightly, and pressed on with their earlier conversation. “So, when did this start?” he asked.

“Oh,” Tim breathed. He watched as Raven looked over her shoulder to catch his stare. Turning back to Dick, he tapped his mug thoughtfully, wondering just how much they should get into detail. “Remember that mission in Lisbon?” he asked.

Dick’s eyebrows furrowed remembering the Titan’s mission of taking on that inter-galactic firearm smuggling ring led by Slade. There was a lot of fighting, shooting, and blood. They had Red Robin join to help Cyborg hack into the several space stations and track local smuggling movements. His eyes widened at he stared at Tim. “What? That was over a year ago. I was there. You two got into arguments!” he accused. He turned to Raven with a bewildered look, feeling utterly confused. “You said his plan was, I quote, ‘fiery hot mess’ and he was stupid beyond belief.” Jason released a bark of laughter in the background.

Raven shrugged dismissively. “It was. He is.”

“No, reckless. The word was reckless.” Tim tutted.

Raven rolled her eyes. “And still stupid. You got shot.”

“Still took down the entire operation.” Tim grinned and they shared a small private smile. Turning back to Dick, he offered an easy shrug, as if everything explained for itself. “Asked Raven out on a date once we all got back and recovered from blood loss.”

Dick gaped at them, still thoroughly confused. “That was 18 months ago. How? All this time –?”

Damian sighed loudly looking rather bored. “Your detective skills are rather disappointing, Richard, if you failed to take notice for the last 18 months,” he said. Dick made a disgruntled sound next to him.

“I’m happy!” Cass announced nudging Raven and the two shared a smile. Raven felt herself relax, as an easy conversation fell on the group and everyone continued to tease Dick for his terrible situational awareness skills. She chuckled at a joke Jason threw at Dick and looked over at Bruce, who remained quiet throughout most of the conversation. She caught his eye briefly and felt whatever tension that was left in her leave as the two shared a rather brief smile.

Dinner was a chaotic affair as promised with Jason and Damian, and on occasion Tim, getting into arguments and Dick trying to placate the situation. Though it was not like Raven was not used to the chaos, after living with Victor and Garfield, and Jinx, for so long. Tim had agreed that he and Raven would help Alfred in his baking tomorrow. When Cass was not busy talking to Raven, she’d endlessly tease Tim or Jason for one thing or the other. Bruce looked over his children occasionally trying to break up arguments or admonish Jason for his cursing. It was a surprising sight, to see this different side of Batman, and it threw Raven into a loop. It was admittedly nice, despite her initial apprehensions, to meet everyone outside of their Kevlar and masks.

“So?” asked Tim later that evening as he appeared from the bathroom barefoot in nothing but his sweatpants. Raven looked up from reading an old philosophy book. She watched Tim towel his wet hair as he approached the bed. Closing the book, she allowed a small smile to play on her lips as she watched him approach, appreciating as the defined muscles rippled with each movement. Tim’s work with his bo staff does wonders – not that it was something she’d openly admit. She caught his amused emotions as he sat down on his side of the bed, catching her stare. “What do you think of today?” he asked her, reaching out and affectionately squeezing her calf.

“It was alright,” Raven replied, placing the book on the bedside table. She turned to Tim and watched him haphazardly throw his used towel onto the nearby office chair. “I’ll pick it up, I promise,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes. Tim turned off his bedside lamp, engulfing them in the soft light from Raven’s lamp. Climbing into bed next to her, he turned to his side and propped his head on his left hand. “Was it?” he probed.

Raven sighed and sunk into bed next to him. She looked up at him as Tim gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s different,” she admitted. “I’m still getting used to the idea of seeing Batman in Armani lounge wear.” Tim snorted ungracefully. “It’ll take some time adjusting to all these emotions from everyone. But it’s nice to meet your family outside of work. Thank you for you bringing me here to meet them,” she told him.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to share this with you. It’s a bit messy and chaotic, but it’s family. I’m happy you’re here,” said Tim gently. He offered her a small smile and grabbed her left hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry if everything is a bit overwhelming. We can always go home when you want to,”

“I know. Thank you.” Raven replied and tugged Tim towards her, allowing him into her space and wrapped his arms around her. She did not realize her emotions were so keyed up until now. Her emotions settled at the familiar press of Tim’s body and the warm press of his emotions against hers. She felt one of his hands slip under her camisole and fingers fanned against the small of her back. She sighed contently and melted into the embrace. She felt a mumbled “I love you” and a kiss against her forehead and she smiled, fingers curling around Tim’s bicep. She hummed and pressed forward, clumsily kissing Tim on the cheek. “I love you too,” she whispered, a little breathless. It often amazed her as she found herself saying these words, three words she thought she’d never say intimately to anyone. Strange how Tim seemed to have easily settled into her life.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, silently relishing the intimate moment between them. Raven quickly learned into the relationship how much Tim enjoyed giving and receiving affection, a result from his own demons of the past. Giving affection so openly was something she gradually learned to do over time. Tim had a way of helping her learn and grow over the year.

She felt Tim shift and before she could acknowledge his change of emotions, she yelped softly as his leg slipped between hers and his foot brushed against her own. “Cold feet!” Raven gasped, trying to jerk her feet away as Tim wrapped his feet around her and pulled her against his chuckling chest.

“Share some body heat,” Tim chuckled against her hair and his legs held her own in place. He shifted again, enjoying the gentle press of her curves against him. Slipping his thigh just a little bit higher between her legs, he smiled as Raven shifted towards him, her thigh brushing against his own.

“I know what you’re doing,” there was an amused lilt in her voice. She could feel the hard press of him against her hip and she canted her hips just a little bit to brush against him. Raven hummed at Tim’s soft sigh.

“I know that there’s a no powers rule in this house,” Tim mumbled and his hand slipped over the curve of her ass and gently squeezed. He heard Raven hum against his chest. He felt her lean up and kiss the hallow of his neck. He bit back a groan as Raven shifted, deliberately brushing up against him. He squeezed her tightly, amused at her teasing. “But,” he breathed and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Do you think you could cast a silencing spell in this room or something?”

“Oh?” Raven breathed, look up at Tim in amusement. Her eyes danced in delight as nimble fingers slid under her shirt again and traced her spine. “What for?”

“Well,” whispered Tim and nudged her up to get her face closer to his. He grinned impishly at her amused face and briefly tipped forward to languidly kiss her, relishing the needy press of her lips and tongue against his own. Pulling away, he chuckled at the soft whine of protest and leaned forward to briefly kiss the crook of her neck before leaning into her ear. “I really don’t want anyone in this house to hear what’s about to happen in my childhood bedroom,”

An excited thrill ran down her back and Raven felt heat pool low in her stomach. “Oh?” she whispered catching the wolfish smile on Tim’s lips. She draped her right hand over Tim’s bare shoulder as he turned and pressed her into the mattress. Her fingers tingled with magic, spell ready at her fingertips, as she teasingly traced a protruding scar on his deltoid. “What’s going to happen?”

Tim clucked his tongue catching the teasing glint in her eyes. “I’ll have to show you then.”

Raven just had about enough sense and time to release the spell from her fingertips just as Tim’s fingers easily slipped underneath her pajama bottoms and inter sleek, hot heat. Legs spreading instantly, back arching, and jaw dropping at the delicious friction, Raven gasped loudly.

“TIM!”

Raven released a breathy gasp as fingers moved slowly into her. The rhythm slick wet noise of Tim’s fingers driving into her at a steady pace had heat pooling low in her abdomen and her legs quivered in anticipation. His fingers steadily increased their speed, drawing out long whines and soft moans from her.

Despite the cool Christmas air, she felt her skin warm as heat shot through her body. She felt Tim’s heady press of desire as he kissed the pulse point of her neck and teeth gently scraped against her sensitive skin. Raven whimpered as she felt him push and prod against the bundle of nerves, her hips gently thrusting against his fingers chasing for release. She felt herself so close to tumbling over the edge.

“Shhh,” Tim whispered teasingly, hooded eyes drinking in her undone state. Nipping the underside of her chin, he listened to her release another breathy whimper as he continued his steady ministration into her sleek heat. Over her gasps and groans, he could hear the wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her. His cock twitched in anticipation. “The others might hear you,” he teased, watching as she gasped and bucked into his hand. They were lucky she cast the silencing spell as Raven whimpered and fluttered around his fingers, release just a few strokes away.

“Please,” Raven herself tumbling towards the edge as her body quivered and she greedily devoured Tim’s lust and desires press into her. She whimpered as she felt him kiss her collar bone before pulling the strap of her camisole down to expose her right breast. She gasped and groaned as his tongue flittered around her nipple before teeth and tongue eagerly engulfed the sensitive bud.

With a nip to her nipple and a few more fast, measured thrusts of his fingers, Tim watched as Raven released a strangled cry and came totally undone. Drawing out her orgasm, his fingers curled and pumped into her fluttering heat, helping her tumble down the cliff.

Raven’s back arched off their bed as her world exploded and she continued to buck into Tim’s hand, riding out the high and soaring through an explosion of colors and sounds. She gasped and whimpered, fingers curling into his bicep to help ground her and gain some control.

Their movements slowed and Tim pressed a warm kiss against her cheek, watching as Raven slowly returned from her high. Pulling his fingers out of her, he watched as Raven whimpered and writhed at the loss of contact.

“Fuck,” Raven breathed, as her senses returned, and she lazily lolled her head towards Tim watching him pull his fingers out of her. Tim hummed thoughtfully, his gaze dropping from her rumpled pajama bottoms to his soaked fingers before licking her sticky juices from his fingers. Raven released another whimper as desire and heat seemed to flare low in her abdomen again as she watched him eagerly lap up her cum from his fingers. Fucking hell, the thought of their total debauchery in her Wayne manor a distant memory.

Pausing with his careful licking, Tim hummed and smiled at her. Drinking in her disheveled look, he leaned over her again and relished the beautiful release of pressing his straining cock against her hip. Rocking into her, Tim pressed a kiss onto her cheek. “We should have a Kinky Christmas,” he whispered and teasingly hooked his fingers into her pajama bottoms and underwear, nudging them down slowly.

Raven released a breathy laugh but found herself nodding. She felt Tim tug her pajama bottoms off her with a few more tugs and pulls of hands and feet. “Give Jason more things to tease us about?”

Tim clucked and chuckled, pressing another kiss into the hallow of her neck and listening to her breathy intake of breath. He quickly removed his own pants, sighing as his member sprang free and brushed against her thigh. “We got the silencing spell up,” he said while pushing her legs apart and settling in between them. They groaned as his member brushed against her core. “This will be our little Kinky Christmas celebration,”

Raven hummed, hands draping over his shoulders as she eagerly rocked into his hips in anticipation. The room was stifling, and she wanted so, so much more. Drinking in his heated stare, Raven gave him languid smile, and spread her legs just a little bit more.

“Then let the festivities begin,”

#TimRae #Tim Drake #Raven #Teen Titans fanfiction #TimRae Fanfiction #TimRae 2021 Year of Smut and Steam #not beta'd

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soliloquiums · 3 years

Text

You find him under a bench in Berlin, more skeleton than man. It is 1955. It is winter. It is the post war era. Behind every dingy, squalid corridor you're bound to find a hundred of them, the left over almost-corpses that god just wasn't kind enough to kill. Haunted by a memory of a Germany that just doesn't exist anymore with charcoal padded under their eyes, limbs trebling from one two many needles. You're sure that if you pulled that ratty, dark blue coat sleeve you'd find his similarly pockmarked with cowardice. Still, something draws you in closer, a shiver, something about him seems heavier, denser, like his very body extends with gravity. A planetary mass. His neck snaps up in a lightening motion and he smiles, his mouth a crooked line that resembled a mountain you swear you've seen in the horizon, somewhere in the east. Beggars aren't allowed to be this beautiful. You shudder. And you take him home.

To your surprise, his skin is deceptively smooth. Like untouched snow after a blizzard- and you search him thoroughly, almost desperately, during your intimate moments, for some sort of mark, some sort of human imperfection. He allows you, absently, as if he’s been through this before, and strokes your hair as his mind wanders into places you know you will never reach. But that comes after, first, you seat him on the rim of your bathtub. He is listless, almost bored, as you wipe the river of blood off his shoulder. There’s no entrance wound, exit wound, no highway crossing where it could come from and after 20 minutes of frantic scrubbing, his hand grips yours. “It’s not mine,” he tells you gently, with that same crocked smile, eyes a circle of glowing blue like the hottest kind of fire, and you pretend not to notice as a very, very fresh red droplet runs down your porcelain bathtub and streaks red onto the tile. There’s not enough of him and there’s too much. After a week, his presence on the couch, skeleton hands gripping a book or remote seems commonplace. His place at your dinner table, the second pair of shoes thrown carelessly next to your orderly ones. The permanent, watery brown stain on your granite countertop where he'd spilled tea and that neither of you bothered to clean up. He is an indelible and yet insignificant mark. Most days, it's nice, quaint, the gentle buzz from the television every time you come back home, his coarse laugh punctuating a mediocre sitcom joke, the way he threatens bodily violence on inanimate objects for refusing to bend to his will. Other times, he is something just north of uncanny valley. He is wearing human skin. Sometimes, at night, he doesn't seem to be breathing and every few weeks, for a second at a time, you'd swear his eyes flashed a macabre red. Two months in and he still doesn’t have his own clothes. Doesn’t have his own closet. You offer to take him shopping, to empty out another shelf but he only shakes his head gently, pityingly, “I don’t own things.” You’re not sure if he’s crazy or if he’s one of those communist philosophy types. You’re not sure if you’d care if he was. You press your lips together. Don’t say anything about how his old clothes seemed to have vanished from the laundry altogether. Three months in and you don’t know his last name. You ask once, casually, assuming that a man abandoned to the snow wouldn’t care much for family anyways. (You can relate, your strict, catholic mother and even stricter pastor father are tucked far away somewhere in a mountain village in Saarland. Out of sight and out of mind.) But he says nothing, or smiles in that whimsically gentle way of his, or stares blankly as if he isn’t sure what a last name is. Sometimes he carefully grasps your hands and kisses you as a distraction and in those moments you’re sure you could live without knowing. Sometimes, you see his gaze catch on the window and you know he is somewhere else. Doesn’t feel like he was ever here in the first place, a ghost boy that floats around your apartment and gives you frigid smiles in place of actual conversation. Once, he lays awake in bed with you and asks if you will remember him on your deathbed with an earnest that makes you want to climb out of bed and vomit. His eyes flash blood and pin you to the bed. Yes, you say, without really understanding why, yes even when you are gone I will remember you always even in the smallest things even when there is nothing more to remember. His eyes go back to blue and you drift off into dreams about an achingly vast field with no horizon and crooked mountains shaped like a smile All at once you are disastrously, cripplingly in love. Falling from a cliff. You try every method in the book to ground him. You bring him flowers in the middle of winter, you buy him books, watches, a cell phone, wine, chocolates, a car. You clean up your act, work out, pen him love letters in the candle light when you think he’s sleeping, insist on cooking the food you think he likes. You drive her to parks. A cottage by the sea, take him to every pretty place in Germany that might even slightly interest him. Cologne, Dresden, Munich, Heidelberg, Watzmann, Brocken. You He dismissed every material gift with an apologetic shake of the head, almost disappointed you don’t understand. His fingers wrap around your wrist and you can feel the cold from his skin drip into yours as he pulls you close, whispering gently, a reminder, “I do not own things.” And I cannot be owned, without saying. The places, however, slaps him out of despondency. He puts a hand to an oak tree in a park in Heidelberg and tells you, absently, his voice drenched in memories, “Someone I loved is buried here.” He sees things you do not. He stares at abandoned buildings with a remorse and vindication you do not understand. There is a tragedy under the bridges, in every lake, that he seems intimate with. In cologne, he strikes a match and lights up a car at 9:43 pm. The pretentious, red thing goes up in smoke a carcass of metal and charred leather seats. He is seething with rage and you don’t touch him because you know he’d burn you if you did but you watch. In rapture and fear. He seems to consider doing the same to the house, but doesn’t. It feels empty, the motion, like the brace before firing a gun. Except there’s no bullets. You watch as the dancing flames reflect on his face, still perfect as soot begins to gather like dark butterflies. “Why?” You ask, sacrilegiously. Breaking the silence of that distinctly consecrated night. Even the stars seem to be holding their breath. “Personal despair could never be desperate enough," he tells you, watching as the smoke gathered and swirled off into the open night sky. A translation of pain, “When tragedy happens, it needs to pass down the line, like a disease. There is an innate sin in the blood of some people.” Like most things, this escapes your comprehension entirely, and all you can focus on, even when the police sirens start blaring, is how beautifully the red reflects off his irises. He gives you a wayward grin. Like he’s done this before- and he has, you know he had- as he grasps your hand with a grip that for once feels real and solid as he darts the other way, dragging you along behind him in this mad dash. He laughs, the sound beautiful and loud and perfect, like church bells or sermon. Something holy, pure. You’re just sane enough to stop your ethereal, cackling lover from veering into oncoming traffic. He looks at you were a eerie intensity that makes you stammer an apology, an apology that he quickly cuts off as he pushes you against exposed brick and crushes his lips to yours. Your tongue flooding with the taste of him, a musky wilderness. There’s a sigh, somewhere, and even though you’ve had sex this feels like the most heart trending thing you’ve ever done in your life. You tremble. Your arms slip around his waist, pulling him closer, as if forevermore. As if drinking god. It’s enough to make you forget that it’s the 50s and that you’re both boys and that if any police officer caught the way his fingers were tenderly, tenderly brushing against your cheek, both of you would be carted off to jail for a decade but you don't care, really you don't, for the first time you feel as if you know him. Gilbert. Your Gilbert. - When the story ends, you're on the floor and the coolness of his skin seems to finally have crawled inside you, making a home amongst your other fragile, human organs. He stands above you with his red eyes, disappointed but not surprised. He mumbled something about this before, in the beginning, about what it would be like once you knew, what the pain would feel like. A sigh from him and you know without looking that all the stars outside the glass have blinked out, that every single other person in the apartment besides you and Him have gone still, paused or maybe dead. Maybe it was the whole street, the country, a few million bodies and still, how can it said to have mattered? "Ignorance isn't safety," He quietly tells your quaking form, in some something that could've been kindness, "Tell me, how many poor weeds have you stepped on, unthinkingly, in your lifetime?" The clock doesn't tick but you can feel the universe moving, entropy. You can feel the vastness of it, remember those dreams with out any horizons in sight and the knowledge weighs down on you like a million bowling balls. "You promised to remember me," He reminds you, his voice still quiet but brimming with an emotion that hasn't quiet come to a boil, "We had more than this." All of Germany shifts slightly, as if moving in its sleep, and the stars blink back, your breath releases. "If I've hurt you," he begins, but shakes his head, stumbling over words that he knows you won't ever really understand, won't forgive him if he lets you know. Resignation, tinged: resentment, "You'll go on living just fine." You look up at him once, I love you, your look says, but he does not look back. The door closes. There are no footsteps down the hall.

#aph #prussia #x reader #hws prussia #prussia x reader #mine #hetalia #long post #mlm #male!reader #50s #internalised homophobia #exestential crisis #??? idk bro #i wrote this at 4 am dont @ me

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lupismaris · 3 years

Note

sorry you’re feeling so crappy 😔 i hope you feel better soon!!

if you’re feeling up to it, maybe silverflinthamiltons on a lake or beach vacation?

SILVERFLINTHAM LAKESIDE HOLIDAY PART 1 with a surprise! and another segment to follow because this is them arriving to the lake!

(this got long so most of it will be under the cut.)

***

It was summer.

Summer meant blistering asphalt and bags of trash stewing on the curb each morning. Hazy sunlight blinding the street, dark cavernous pockets of shade where the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, but the air stayed stale and suffocating all the same. It meant too many people and too much noise and parties in the park that never seemed to end, one just replacing another in an endless cycle of hedonism, and bottles of chilled wine and cheap beer sweating on the fountain walls. It meant long dinners and longer lunches, ice cream trucks and Italian ice carts on opposite corners of the street carrying on an old world rivalry. It meant golds and blues and lush greens wherever your eyes happened to fall, be it on a back alley garden or storefront window display.

Silver loved summer.

He loved the warmth and the sprawling picnics and the baring of skin and the feral energy of a child free from school amplified to suit a city of millions and the heady summer storms that shook the glittering skyline in a kind of holy cleanse. He loved the summer fruits and the sweet aperitifs and the old school white linen shirts and open fire hydrants flooding the streets and the neon lights reflecting in the puddles left behind, still evaporating in the hot night, giving the whole world an ethereal glow.

Though he had to admit it was always better spent on a beach with a frosted drink and not a goddamn thing to do. But, if a beach couldn’t be procured, a big, cool, well air conditioned house that was paid for by someone else was an excellent alternative. His sister’s condo in Chelsea for instance was an excellent place to waste away a summer on parties and sun bathing and a private pool that no one else seemed to have the time to use. He had spent several summers with Max that way, even once the Rangers had become part of the picture, if Silver was on the east coast for the summer, he would drop in and waste away a while.

Now though, it looked like summers were going to be spent in Brooklyn, in the big cool townhouse that Thomas had paid for, with the truly miraculously internal air con that was always kept at a balmy 65 degrees from May to October, and with very little to do outside of whatever suited his fancy on any given day. Oh and sex, a lot of sex. This would be the first summer in a very long time where he could not only allow himself a libido, but he could also satiate it.

Silver was thoroughly content with the new circumstances.

He was less content however, with how the summer months, or maybe just the summer months in the city, seemed to bring out the worst in people as frequently as it did the best.

Flint, for example, did not handle summers as well as Silver did. In part it was due to the heat and the sun and the weird smells coming off the steamy side walks, and Silver understood Flint’s frustration with all that, he truly did. But summer also meant more tourists and more people going out for a good time, more people starting brawls in bars and fights in the street and parties spilling over from one bar to the next, or worse packs of bigots making the rounds and harassing whomever they find, everything the working class service folks of the city dreaded- in short, Flint’s stress levels seemed to just rise with the temperature. And considering an average day in July might easily crack 100, Silver was starting to get a tad worried.

“Is it like this every summer?” Silver had asked one Friday morning in June.

The kitchen was soft with the morning sunlight, Thomas in his silk night shirt and robe as he perused the menu for the cafe on the corner, Silver fixing them each an espresso.

“To a point yes. You know how James is about control,” Thomas said with a fond smile, “when he’s at his best he can combat every threat to his sovereignty without so much as flinching. But the summer gets to him, makes him a bit of a wolf in a cage, so to speak.”

“Was he worse in Manhattan?” the buildings sometimes reminded Silver of a cell block, the slivers of sunlight cutting through as hot as cattle prods.

“Much. Hal has tried talking him into not working as much in the summer, but you know how he is, can’t be told anything once he’s got his mind made up. Not to mention he’s never been good at simply existing. There always has to be purpose in it, work to be done, fields to plow and what not.”

Silver huffed a laugh and brought Thomas’ espresso over, feeling a sense of warmth at the notion that he and Thomas were able to share this, to share flint and all his eccentricities.

“I’m sure a man as clever as you thought of some way to keep his blood pressure down, hm?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Thomas took the espresso cup without looking away from the menu. He set it aside and pulled Silver in, kissing him sweetly in thanks. Ah, that was also a nice thing to share with Thomas, Silver reminded himself.

“Oh I came up with a few ideas, pet. How about we order breakfast, and I’ll tell you about them.”

By Friday, the three of them were packed into Flint’s old Range Rover heading upstate for two weeks of holiday bliss. It had taken multiple phone calls to Gates to make sure the bar would in fact be alright while Flint was gone and to make sure he barred Flint from being within a dozen yards of The Walrus once it closed on Thursday night. It had also taken coaxing, convincing, bartering, and eventually outright bribery with sex to get Flint to stop scowling about the idea of being away from his “ship” for longer than a weekend. There had been other phone calls as well, placed by Thomas in the early hours of the morning when he thought he was the only one awake. When asked about them he just waved the questions away with a mild, “oh just a little extra surprise for James thats all” and Silver did his best to trust him.

It was a five hour drive from the house in Brooklyn to the house on Lake Cayuga that Thomas had purchased during his recovery, to he and Flint would have a quiet place to heal and make up for lost time without the strain of the city grating on them. Silver had never been upstate, his various clients had always preferred houses in the Hamptons, but from the photos it was a cozy little cottage style house right on the shore, a couple bedrooms, an airy kitchen, lush garden, and a private pier that stretched out into the lake. There was also apparently a boat, a little hybrid sailboat of polished wood and deep blue paint, the name Ariel written in careful golden script. Silver wanted to ask whether Flint had bought it or built it, because he was the kind of high strung man to just build a boat from scratch instead of buying one or scheduling extra therapy. But the scowl on his face as they tucked the suitcases into the trunk told him it wasn’t worth the teasing. Not yet anyway.

Flint insisted on driving the whole five hours himself, scowling silently behind the wheel as he drove them through miles of lush farmland, leaving Thomas and Silver to chat about what they might do once they get settled in. There was plenty of hiking, though Thomas was worried the gorges might be tricky for Silver’s regular prosthetic, ample water falls and countless parks to explore. Lots of quaint small towns with seafood shacks and local fare and more wineries than even Thomas knew what to do with. And of course, most importantly, there was the lake.

Flint kept his silence till the last hour of the ride, the scowl firmly set on his jaw. Silver and Thomas had switched seats so Thomas could stretch out and nap in the back seats, leaving Silver to try and coax a smile out of his partner. Not that he had to do much. As the car climbed yet another rolling hill, Silver watched the horizon, his hand in Flint’s, trying to figure out whether the deep blue streak that had suddenly appeared was a dark patch of sky.

It wasn’t, for the record.

Silver frowned and turned to Flint, planning to ask if it was the lake and exactly how big was said lake- but the question died well before he could even open his mouth.

The scowl was gone, dropped from Flint’s face and replaced by the softest look of wonder Silver had ever seen on the man, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, making his mustache twitch. It was as if something had hooked its line into Flint’s chest and was slowly reeling him in, his whole body sitting straighter, the tension in his shoulders bleeding out until he was leaning into the steering wheel. His hand even held tighter to Silver’s, an unconscious need to keep himself tethered maybe, or to keep Silver close.

“Is that the lake?” Silver managed to ask with a soft smile of his own.

“Yeah. We’ll be at the cabin in half an hour.”

They got there in twenty minutes, not that anyone was actually counting.

The lake stretched out before them, a sea of deep blues and aquamarines, glittering with the hot late June sunlight that danced across it’s surface. It’s shores were patched with wildflowers and thick thatches of wood, little clusters of cabins and boat houses, who’s owners were out skipping across the surface like dragon flies on their small boats and kayaks. The afternoon air was hazy and sweet, the whole scene a postcard from the mythical summers of memory that everyone aspired to, bird song and the low hum of the radio escorting them along the final stretch of route 90. Flint pulled them down a narrow side road, passing a few comfortably sized homes with ample space between them, until they reached the dead end of the street, and the little cottage Silver had seen in the photos, with the shadow of the pier dark across the water, and the Ariel waiting like a loyal dog in her berth.

“Oh good,” Thomas said with a yawn, finally pulling himself back into a sitting position and stretching, as Flint pulled the car into the drive alongside what looked like a rental car. “I was starting to think we were lost.”

Silver looked back at him, ready to tease about old men and naps, but Thomas was looking down at his phone, his fingers quickly switching on the stop watch. “Thomas what-”

The range rover lurched to a sudden stop as Flint hit the brakes and Silver had to cling to the seat to keep himself upright. Thomas seemed completely unfazed, draped across the back seat in his half buttoned linen shirt and designer sunglasses, watching with an air of fond expectation as Flint threw on the parking brake and booked it from the car, leaving the engine running.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Silver asked.

Thomas laughed and reached around the driver’s seat to shut the car off. “Exactly what I expected him to do, though I’ll admit I expected him to at least properly stop the car first.”

“What? Thomas- oh my god he’s going in the lake?” Silver asked, watching as Flint cleared the back fence and striped off his shirt, leaving it on the lawn as he kept moving towards the pier. His boots, socks, and jeans followed, barely breaking his quick stride to strip them off.

“Last time it took him a whole ten minutes to get into the water,” Thomas said, helping Silver, who was too busy staring in shock at the sight of his stern and stoic partner racing across the back patio like a child, from the car. “He might clear five minutes this time.”

A few more quick strides and Flint dove from the end of the pier, breaking the surface of the lake with a thunderous sound and disappearing into the blue.

“He’s in the lake,” Silver said.

Thomas hooked their arms together, the two of them walking leisurely across the lawn. “Every visit, the first thing he does is go to the water. It’s even more dramatic when it’s the ocean, maybe I’ll book us a house on the coast next month.”

“More dramatic than stripping down to his boxers in the back yard?” he asked.

The back lawn of the house was a mix of a large patio and and a short green, with a fire pit and a grill, a small dining table and some cozy chairs, and what silver hoped was a hot tub. A woman was stretched out on one of the long beach chairs in a deep green bikini, her dark hair cut short and a magazine across her lap, though she was watching the water, where Flint had just resurfaced for a moment before diving again.

“Miranda?” Silver called, aware that Thomas was beaming behind him but not at all surprised to see his ex wife. That explained the phone calls, and the rental car out front.

“I believe our husband is in the lake my dears,” Miranda called with a laugh, getting up to come greet them. “God he’s like a little boy at a swimming hole.”

“I’d ask how you got here but that seems almost silly,” Silver said, letting her pull him into a tight hug. They had taken to each other from the first, which had left Thomas and Flint a little uneasy. Miranda’s humor matched his, her wit sharp and familiar, and Silver had learned very quickly why Flint and Thomas were both still in love with her. He wasn’t far from it himself.

“Thomas called, said James needed an intervention,” She said, letting him go to kiss Thomas hello and hug him tight. “I’m on break from teaching this summer and the fall concert season hasn’t started yet, could I come out and join you for a couple weeks? Which was a silly question, I was buying a ticket the moment he suggested it.”

Thomas kissed the top of her head, smiling brightly. “I had hoped you might be his surprise before he jumped in the lake, I’m sorry my dear.”

Silver watched them, feeling a bit dizzy. They were were a perfect pair, Miranda dark and elegant under Thomas’ arm, the cool dusk sky to Thomas’ golden hour sun.

“Don’t be, I’ll go down to him, maybe join him in the water for a bit.” She kissed his cheek, then Silver’s. “There’s some snacks laid out in the kitchen and dinner will be delivered in a couple hours, why don’t you get the bags inside and then come join us. Maybe we can even take Ariel out before dinner.”

“Oh now there’s an idea,” Thomas agreed, moving to go back and fetch the bags from the car. “Tell our husband we’ll join you in a moment. If you can manage to get him up for air.”

Miranda laughed, a bright sunny sound that always reminded Silver of how she played piano, and made her way down to the pier. He watched as she sat down on the edge of the pier, as the surface of the water broke and Flint emerged, staring up at her in shock. Silver heard her laughing, saw her reach out and watched as Flint reached up and pulled her into the lake with a joyful shout of her name. They were lost for a moment to the water, kicking up waves as Flint held her tight and danced them around, clumsy and free. Behind him Silver could hear Thomas laughing, felt his hand as it came to rest warm and sure on his lower back, pulling him in close, as he said something about wishing they’d gotten that on film.

For Silver, it was one of those moments where suddenly he remembered what all those old love songs were written about. He understood it.

And it was finally his.

#my fic #black sails modern au #silverflinthamilton #jamie's fic prompt fills #@halewoods #john silver #james flint #thomas hamilton #miranda hamilton #i truly love this one and am already working on the next segment which will i hope be smutty as well as soft and sappy

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marigold-doms · 3 years

Text

mystic destiny || choi san ||

[ ep. 2 ] >> [ ep. 3 ] >> [ ep. 4 ]

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Written by: MIKA🌻

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: just cocky Yeosang

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

|| Ep. 3 || Doll

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Sadly, you find yourself being honest. Slowly shaking your tired head. “You can’t be my boyfriend, San.”

“Why?” His voice was softer than a whisper.

Your eyes close and you can’t open them any longer. “I have no choice but to be with someone I don’t know.”

“Be with me.” He innocently offers. “You know me.”

You manage a weak smile with your eyes closed. “If only it were that simple.”

Before you hear anything else, you slip from consciousness. Falling fast asleep for almost the whole day.

***************************

The warmth of the sun’s beams welcome you from your slumber as they seep in through your blinds. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve slept, since your body aches to cuddle deeper into the comforter. From the position you were laying in, it was so tempting to close your eyes and rest for longer. After all, sleep sort of became your new best friend over the past few months.

Slowly but surely, you begin to recall the day before, taking your time to fully wake yourself up. Remembering everything takes a while but when you do, you shoot up and scan your room. On your bed you see two pearls. One large marble sized pearl and a tiny miniature version.

You pick up the two pearls and drop them into a mason jar of some coins and missing earring sets.

“San?”

There’s a moment of silence before you hear heavy feet slapping the floor. “(Y/n),” You liked hearing how he said your name. “Sleepy one said that you need to eat. It’s almost sunset.”

You nod. Not sure if he’s been awake long. “Did you sleep okay?”

He pulls you by your sweatshirt. “Brush your teeth. Humans have to brush their teeth. Especially you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, glancing into the hallway. Knowing that the last part was Mace’s manipulation.

You start brushing your teeth, still a little groggy. “Did you brush your teeth?”

San nods, proudly. “Yes. I brushed my teeth.”

You pause, wrist stopping as well. You try not to swallow toothpaste when you ask. “With what?”

“You’re holding it.”

********************

Macy’s on the phone with her boyfriend when you come out to eat after yelling at San for using your toothbrush.

“Okay, Woo.” Macy sets down her plate, making sure to flash you a smile when she sees your tired face. “Bye.”

“Good morning.” You wave, gingerly.

“It’s almost dinner time…” Macy mutes herself to speak to you.

“Oh. Guess, I was tired.”

The call ends and she pulls up a chair. “Sit. We have to talk before I go on my date.”

You hated when she used this tone of voice with you. “Am I in trouble?”

San has settled in his seat and he starts bringing food up to his lips. Curiously chewing and smiling when the flavor suits his taste.

“No, but I feel like house rules are a must…”

You remember what you told Macy last night. Of course, it wasn't the full truth. You told her you had a near death experience— and that San saved you.

“I’m not sure how long you’re planning on keeping him here with us y/n but I hope you know that I can’t be responsible for him.”

San’s eyes flit up at the two of you before he smiles and continues eating.

You nod. “Yes, He’ll sleep in my room for as long as he stays.”

Macy lifts a knowing brow. Nothing motherly but in a sense that you could read her thoughts. “Remember, You already have a man.”

Again, you’re aware of your situation. You’ve gotten over the shock of coming back to life. You had to face the reality again. Macy was gracious enough to open up her condo to you in order to at least give you some freedoms. Granted she could only do so much as your cousin, her allowing you to live under the same roof was a blessing and an escape. But to add another head into the living arrangement might be pushing it.

“As if I can change anything. I owe San. He did save my life.”

Your savior chews with his mouth open. “Would’ve been unfortunate if I didn’t...”

Mace’s face was almost comical because of the way her eyebrows knit into confusion. You regret not giving her all the details but maybe it was better to spare her.

“Okay well, Woo is waiting for me downstairs so I’ll be back.” She goes into her room to grab something then comes back out. “I might be back…”

After waving a quick bye to your cousin, she shuts the door behind her. Which leaves you and San alone in the condo. He sits across from you, still wearing Wooyoung’s clothing. The sleeves are nice and snug against his toned arms. He shovels a big bit into his mouth before relishing in the taste. “I forgot how good human food was. Do you always eat food like this?”

You don’t reply. Out of habit, your mind begins to queue a playlist of things to overthink. Mind heavy with complaints and sufferings of your pitiful, privileged life. When Macy wasn’t around it was harder to avoid these thoughts. Sure, growing up financially wealthy came with perks that could get you brownie points with anyone you decided to associate with. But it hurt to grow up with people and parents that only gave a damn about social status and political wealth.

Your life wasn’t even yours to simply choose and move freely in anyway. Despite being a grown woman, that stupid contract with the prime minister’s family, chained you down to give you no choice but to obey. The amount of shame that your family would burden you with if you didn’t would be insurmountable.

“Y/n?” San’s voice brings you back out of your head.

“Yes, San?” You find yourself blushing when he smiles at you for making eye contact with him.

“I’ve been wondering,” He presses his lips together before finishing his sentence. “What can I do to make you happy today?”

“Huh?”

“I look at you and I feel happy. I know it’s because meeting you made me human again but,” San’s unending transparency is a breath of fresh air to you. “You don’t smile often. I want to make you smile.”

To smile? Being Happy? Was that something you could even ask for?

The Following Day

“I can’t believe it…” You paced the doctor’s office. “You’re saying I don’t have it?”

“That’s what the results are telling us, Miss y/l/n… Of course, We could run more tests just to be sure. There’s just no trace of cancer anywhere. Miraculous is the only way I can describe it.”

On the way out of the hospital you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream for joy. Your feelings were already conflicted considering you still thought that it was almost unfair for you to be alive. With San here, you’re undeniably doubting that you are the best person to help him relive a human life either.

One problem starts stumbling into the next when you arrive home.

“Y/n! A random human man is intruding!” San runs into you in the hallway and his look of panic forces you to push past him to see what’s wrong.

You stop at the door. San is still moving around behind you and making incoherent sounds at the man standing in the living room of your apartment.

“What are you doing here?”

The man stares at you bewildered. “What’s another man doing here?”

“Y/n instructed me to guard the condo!” San turns to you after pointing at the man. “I got a strange feeling in my stomach, y/n. Tell him to leave.”

You sigh, choosing to ignore San’s disposition. “Is today the day?”

“You know him?” San questions. Earning a small nod from you.

“You forgot?” The man questions, flicking his light hair from his eyes. “I was going to bail but considering my business is on the line because of this marriage agreement, I had no choice.”

This day couldn’t possibly get any more inconvenient.

“You couldn’t find another smart excuse?”

“Unfortunately,” He smiles at you with a glare in his eyes— you never understood how he did that. His eyes flicker to San before he continues speaking. “I couldn’t keep myself away from you any longer.”

[ Y e o s a n g ‘ s P . O . V . ]

How was this possible?

I thought I got rid of him?

He died in the lake, didn’t he?

This man in front of him couldn’t possibly be him. But judging by his tone of voice and the fact that he looks exactly the same as he remembered him… It was San. Clueless and unaware undoubtedly. But it was San.

How dare he survive after all these years.

Yeosang had made a deal with that stupid god holding a silver stop watch.

To become immortal until he found his lover again. He was sure that it was her. Y/n looked exactly like her. Smelled like her and even spoke like her. He made it sure that when she was old enough to talk that he’d make her his. She had to be his lover.

Seeing San alive and staying in the same place with her. Anger began to flood his veins, his blood simmering to a boil.

He was going to make sure that San stood no chance against him. Emotionally and physically. Even if it meant that he was going to have to make another deal.

********************

In the heavens, the God of Light is watching with a blank expression on his face as the God of Shadows smiles and laughs at the interaction of the meta-humans below.

“Isn’t it marvelous?” Hongjoong humors, fanning himself lightly. “They finally met.”

“Let’s see how it goes. I have a good feeling about this.”

“I don’t.” Yunho bites his nails, a bad habit he’s received from spending so much time in the human world.

“Why do you keep weaseling your way into the conservatory?” The God of the Shadows doesn’t even bear to look at his half brother.

“Brother.” The God of Light warns, clicking his stopwatch shut. He turns to the hybrid. “Son of Jeong Mina—“

“Yunho.”

“—Go down to earth. Your lover is waiting for you.”

“Pardon?” One and a half gods exclaim in unison.

**************

“What’s happening?” Wooyoung smiles at his princess as she finishes the conversation on the phone with y/n.

Macy sighs, frowning as she hangs up. “She’s going on a date with the Prime Minister's son.”

Wooyoung mirrors his girlfriend’s expression. “Maybe we should help her out this time.”

“We can't. They’ll be at the big engagement ball.”

“I can get us in. I am a famous dancer after all.” Wooyoung winks.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here hiding in your apartment because of your insane fans.”

Off put by the facts, Wooyoung pouts and cocks his head to the side. “What about that guy she met? The one at the condo. What’s he gonna do tonight?”

Mace’s eyes flash with an idea. “Grab your suit. We’re going.”

**************

You smooth out the dress that Yeosang’s maids laid out for you to wear. In any sense you were bound to hate what they picked. And you did. Around the room you see that it’s decorated with elegance and luxury.

“This will be your room once you move in. By the looks of it, you’ll be enjoying life with me in about a month.”

You began to tear up. Cancer should’ve saved you. You would’ve been set free. Your tears turn into harsh sobs while your shoulders shiver from the cold emotion waving over you. Everything in this cursed life has been torturous. Having no choice but to grin and bear it all. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to learn to love this man. He was older than you by at least 5 years— you didn’t have the time of day to really care. He barely knew you and you swore he acted like he’s known you for your entire life.

The 3 timid knocks on the door fool you to think it’s just one of Yeosang’s maids asking for permission to enter. Yet when the door opens, you have no time to wipe the stream of tears ruining the makeup on your face.

“Oh y/n.” The most concern you’ve ever seen on the man's face puts you off but you allow him to approach you. Turning your body away from him. “Why are you crying, Doll?”

Doll?

“Just give me a minute. This is a lot to take in.” You try to mask your emotions by making a shallow excuse. Placing your hand down on the wooden chest that you were sitting on.

Yeosang places his hands in his sharp suited pockets while he buffers to assess the situation. He places his body in front of you in efforts to close off space.

“A change in lifestyle can be scary. Trust me,” He places a gentle hand on the back of your exposed shoulder blade. “I completely understand how intimidating change can be.”

I just barely escaped life by dying and now I’m back to life with no way out. In addition to that, there’s another person’s lifestyle I have to worry about. So, I bet you don’t.

Maybe he reads your face well because you hear him sigh. “Believe it or not. I had to take a while to get used to living life in a new, scary way. After a while, I saw the beauty in it.”

“What makes you think I’ll find the beauty in being signed off to you?”

He tries to conceal the smirk that he’s already flashed you. “From-” His eyes find a place to the left of you. “...the way you would look so pretty standing next to me.”

Your head turns to where his eyes guide you. The huge gold lined mirror mounted on the wall reflected Yeosang standing tall next to you. You gaze at yourself, knowing that your outer appearance masked the horrible storm that was brewing internally. Yeosang’s deep colored orbs meet yours through the reflection. He looks so refined and elegantly poised that your bad posture was starting to embarrass you.

“You don’t think so, Doll?”

“Delusional, really. If you notice, I’m not exactly jumping into your arms in excitement. Also,” You then turn away from the reflection to face him. “Stop calling me that.”

Humor returns to his face and he lifts one side of his lips. “I don’t wanna.”

You find yourself sighing and standing up straight. “What time does this event start?”

“As soon as you and I walk down the hall and into the ballroom.”

“Can’t I just stay in here?”

“I mean, we can. I’ll just have to let everyone know that you and I will be up here the whole night. Alone.” He watches your reaction with amusement as you smooth your dress and use the back of your hand to tidy up your face.

“Lets go.”

Yeosang smiles to himself, gesturing to the dark wood door. “After you, Doll.”

You make a face and walk past him. Hoping that holding onto his arm will pull you through the rest of the night.

***********

“Pleasure to see you and your beautiful wife again Mr. y/l/n.” Yeosang takes your father’s hand into his and firmly shakes it. Your mother beams at Yeosang with sparkles in her eyes. She feels absolutely excited for her daughter to be thrown into the arms of a total stranger—“a rich one” she’d add, for moral purposes.

“Please, child. Call me mom.” The airiness in your mom’s poised voice forces you to bite the inside of your cheek. Yeosang handsomely returns a smile and you can see the blood rush to your mothers face.

As much as the pleasantries were being passed around, you hated being the center of it all. It seemed that you were the focus of all the talk but no one wanted to to consider how you felt about practically being signed off to a rich family. By the sound of all the rumors, Yeosang’s family was the most feared and influential family in the whole country. It was no surprise to the world when they suddenly revealed Yeosang as their eldest.

“You better straighten up, y/n. The whole world is watching and I will not have a child that cracks under pressure. Do not embarrass me after all the work your father and I put into your future.” It’s as if your mother switched off her grace and poise to the mask words she’s whispering into your ear by giving you a hug.

You don’t say a word but for the cameras you bring your arms up to embrace her. If you haven’t already learned by now it was second nature for you to naturally know how to keep a consistent public image. A grateful daughter of one of the most successful business companies in the capital.

Your father follows and you can’t help the swell of pain that sinks into your heart when he meets your eyes. He’s been wearing a tired expression for as long as you remember. In the past, although he was stressed from his line of work, he used to look at you with so much care and hope. Now, it’s hard to search for the compassion he used to have for you. Maybe if he wasn’t so desperate to please your mother, he’d remember his role as your father.

Your body becomes heavy. Now the idea of holding onto Yeosang for the rest of the night seemed like a nice support right about now.

Your silent prayers are answered when Yeosang offers you his arm again. “As much as I’d love to chat more with my future parents. Y/n and I should make our rounds. ” Even though Yeosang was a huge part of your problems, maybe in this moment you were happy that he had enough sense to pull you away from the disappointment that you’ve felt with your once loving parents.

A couple of hours into this dreaded engagement party, you’ve been through so many introductions that you’re sure you’ve met the entire population of the white collar heads of the family.

Yeosang senses your exhaustion. “Should be another 2 hours.”

“Oh gods help me.” You sigh, biting your lip.

“I’ll be doing some separate greetings so I hope you can manage from here, Doll.”

“I don’t need to be babysat. Go do your business things.” Your arms slips from his firm bicep and you take a step away. Choosing to sit in the back where you hopefully go unnoticed by all the big name companies.

“Just two more hours.”

Yes. Just two more.

**** **************

“May the newly engaged couple come forward and have their first drink together. Our capital’s betrothed.”

Such a Victorian tone to use in a setting so modern and classy. You gather the fabric around your finger tips and gaze at Yeosang with indifference. His deep colored eyes seem to search for something of substance with yours. The most you could give back to him was a timid curl of your lip. In a place so unfamiliar and rigid, Yeosang was your only form of stability.

“Let’s see a sweet kiss from the soon to be couple!” A random voice shouts towards the front of the room.

Yeosang plays the role of bashfulness with confidence. Yet, you’re completely uncomfortable with having to show any type of affection—much less physical touch with this man.

A shiver runs down your spine but not from Yeosang.

A voice echoes in your head and you’re sure that you know who it is but, how?

“Y/n, You don’t have to be with him.”

[ ep. 2 ] >> [ ep. 3 ] >> [ ep. 4 ]

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

plz lmk if you want to be added to the tags~

Tag list🌻: (no obligation to reblog or read but if you do like it, leave a comment!!~) : @nctrenjunie @sakura-mars @owljungeun @yunhoiseyecandy @wsrod-deszczu @allyreactions @jonghyuns-gurl @inavocados @hwilson16 @yeo-dream-inactive @xiuminswifeforever @moongaera @serendipityunho @twancingyunhoe @hwanderlands @starryjoongs @sunlightwoo @domjungwoo @serendipityunho @multidreams-and-desires @astralsweetness @k-pop-boy-scenarios @neodreamwaves @neo-wonderland @saranghey-you @bonbonhwa @sleepychimm

#mystic destiny #mika’s works #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez san #san #choi san #mermaid!au #san imagines #san imagine #san smut #Choi san imagines #fantasy!au #kpop imagines

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h1myname1sk0rg · 3 years

Text

Cheaters Never Prosper

Part 1 - Summer Beginnings

Pairing: Brother’s Best Friend!Bucky x OC

Summary: Bucky brings his new college girlfriend to the lake house. Old feelings arise and he has to fight to win the game he and Ace have going, but as they say, cheaters never prosper.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

>———————————<✪>———————————<

“That’s right folks, it’s gonna be a hot one out there today! Kickin’ off the summer 37 degrees and climbing, so stay cool and safe out there!”

Music from the radio buzzed through the kitchen and into the living room, crackling occasionally. The house was dim, all the curtains drawn shut to block out as much heat as possible in the large house and Acelynn Rogers was unimpressed. Trudging her way down the tall set of stairs she wandered into the kitchen where her mom was stood, digging through the fridge. “Don’t lie to me, lady. I know you’re just trying to cool off.”

Chuckling, her mom pulled the large watermelon from the back of the fridge. “Oh hush, you’re gonna be late for school.” She reached for the knife on the counter, pointing it at her daughter as she spoke.

Grumbling something about how the school was too warm and that they should just “cancel it anyway,” because, “who needs exams”, she stuffed the laces into her dusty sneakers and walked out of the house.

The air was stuffy and damp, Acelynn seemed to sweat within seconds of stepping onto the front porch. The metal railing was too hot to touch and her thighs rubbed together uncomfortably as she scrambled down the stairs. Red braids could be seen through the bushes and right on time, the face of her best friend appeared at the front gate to her (oversized) family home. “Wanda!” she cheered, drawing out her name in excitement.

“Acelynn!” Her friend cheered back in the same tone; something that had become a ritual for the past five years they had known each other. That was the only time they used each other’s full names, often too lazy and shortening it to one syllable instead.

The walk to school was short, but not sweet. It was muggy and far too uncomfortable for any amount of physical activity. “I can’t wait to go to the summer home.” Ace sighed, absolutely delighted to go visit the mansion they visited every summer just outside a small town a few states over.

Wanda nodded in agreement, brushing her braids off her shoulders. “Me too, I can’t believe my parents are actually letting me go, and bonus, we can drive. We are going to be in for a wild summer.”

That they were, a wild summer was an understatement though, especially considering her parents wouldn’t be joining them until two weeks later and were even going to let her drive the convertible down to the house after this weekend’s graduation ceremony. Stepping foot onto the grounds of their high school just as the bell rang, they waved goodbye, “you’re coming over tonight, right?” She called to Wanda, who in turn gave a thumbs up as she spun on her heel and jogged through the front doors. Acelynn turned the other direction and sprinted for her math exam, sliding into her seat just at the last second.

>———————————<✪>———————————<

Watching the clock tick by second by second made her want to slam her head through the desk in front of her. She had done three exams today and finished her last one with thirty minutes to spare. It was all she could do to keep from asking to go to the bathroom and just never coming back. Just as she felt herself zone out again, the bell rang. Shooting up from her seat, she grabbed her belongings: a nearly empty bag and the pen she used to draw on her leg after finishing her exam. Sprinting from the classroom, she stopped in the hallway to plan her route and, expertly, she dodged excited seniors and the leftover freshman left and right before coming to a stop in front of the front doors.

Breathing deep, she pushed them open to step outside, but not before Peter Parker came sprinting out of nowhere and tackled her to the ground. “We’re free!” He cheered, causing laughter to erupt from Ace.

Grinning, she tried shoving him off. “That we are!” Grabbing her hand, Peter helped her to her feet and she caught sight of Ned and MJ catching up behind them. Aside from Wanda, Peter was her best friend. They shared the same birthday and were born in the same hospital. Her parents were best friends with his aunt and uncle and they practically grew up as siblings. “The invitation is still open to join Wanda and I at the summer home next week, we leave Sunday morning after grad.”

The three friends all looked to each other and sighed, “we all got jobs last week, we’re stuck here, sorry Ace.” Peter nodded at Ned’s statement and she sighed even though she understood because her and Wanda were told to get jobs for the summer in that little town. “We’ll still make it for our birthday weekend though.” At that, Ace’s eyes lit up and she grinned mischievously.

“Alright deal. Steve said he would buy us drinks for that weekend and my parents said that they would leave early.”

The friends said their goodbyes and headed home, Wanda and Ace turning the other direction to head to their neighborhood. “So this weekend, I’ll go pack at home after grad and then come by for dinner, deal?”

Ace nodded, “that works, I still need to find out when Steve and his friends are coming down.”

“Do you think Barnes will be there?” Wanda asked, even at the mention of the last name her cheeks flushed. They grew up really close for years, with him being Steve’s best friend. Their parents called him Acelynn’s long lost brother, sometimes she pretended to hate the guy, teasing him and him teasing her back. Wanda knew she was head over heels in love with him. That being said, Ace did hate him. Hated his perfect teeth and his perfect hair and the perfect way he dressed. Hoping it would go away when Bucky left for university, she paid him no attention last summer. It upset both Steve and Bucky that they didn’t hang out much, but she covered it by working at the bakery all summer and spending as little time as possible at the summer home.

Shrugging, she tightened the straps of her backpack and set off down the cement stairs of her high school. “Don’t know, don’t care to be honest.” A lie. A flat out, dirty lie. “Even if he was, why would it matter. He’s a pompous college boy anyway, I don’t need that.”

Their bags sat uncomfortably on their shoulders and the sun beat down on their necks, Wanda stayed silent and watched Ace fight with herself back and forth about her conflicting feelings about the oldest Barnes. They passed his family home at the end of the street and like always, Ace searched for his car. Her heart pounded in her chest, but the sleek black car stayed missing in action. Swallowing dryly, she glanced to Wanda who used this silence to speak up. “Let’s go swimming. Get our minds off graduation.” The proposition brought up her newly dampened spirits and she nodded, the two jogging their separate ways to grab their swimsuits.

Acelynn entered the house, the temperature change was welcome, but insignificant in it’s efforts to cool her down. She changed and pulled her shorts from earlier on and wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs, smeared the black pen ink.

>———————————<✪>———————————<

The bike ride to the river was warm, too warm. Rubber bike handles came off on their hands and they were glad to see the dirt road that held access to the lake. Whipping down the dusty path, they hollered and cheered. The ride made her feel free as the breeze cooled her hot and sweaty skin. Trees passed by, light reflecting off the girl’s faces and they smiled, coming to a screeching halt at the bottom. Just as the dust cleared, they both sprinted for the dock. Wanda grabbed Ace’s waist and they both wrestled each other into the freezing cold water, their backs hitting it with a satisfying smack.

Laughing, they pulled themselves from under the water and sighed in relief as the coolness settled onto their skin. The sky was blue, not a cloud in the sky as Ace lay on her back, floating on the water and letting her blonde hair soak. Water flooded her ears and she closed her eyes enjoying the peace and quiet.

Bucky laughed as Ace splashed him, Steve jogging up the hill to get the ball that Bucky ‘accidentally’ tossed up there. Hands running over the water, Ace smiled, once again enjoying the peace of being with her brother and his friend. The peace was ruined when Bucky tackled her under the water, she gasped at how cold the water was. Having been too chicken, she hadn’t quite gotten in yet. She got used to it quickly when she realized that Bucky was just kind of... staring at her. Grabbing his face, she pulled him in, kissing him with so much passion they both had to break for air much sooner than either of them liked. Bucky, grabbed her again, pulling her in and holding her tight to his chest as they shared that moment. She took a deep breath in, shocked beyond words. Looking up at him, she closed her eyes for a moment and-

Cold water hit her face and she gasped. Wanda’s laughing broke through the leftover memory fog and she glared at her before laughing herself. “Come on, we gotta go. Your mom is gonna kill you if you’re not home for dinner on time.”

>———————————<✪>———————————<

Graduation was warmer than the sun. The gym was hot and there were too many bodies for the outdated air conditioning to manage. The small graduating class of 50 sat in chairs on the floor and parents sat up in the bleachers. Ace was bummed out, her brother hadn’t shown up and he promised to be there. The valedictorians talked about nothing and in turn, her and MJ looked at each other from across the room, shooting each other with finger guns to ‘kill’ each other. Wanda was sat in front of her and the two girls just kept banging their heads together while their principal droned on and on about how “adulthood is beautiful and everyone will do wonderfully in college.” The speech had been the exact same as at Steve’s graduation a year prior and when it finally came time to walk the stage, everyone trudged, the heat making them feel sludgy.

Wanda walked as gracefully as ever, her brother Pietro following with a light jog and a jump in the air. Rolling her eyes at the athlete, Acelynn waited for her turn, dripping in a pool of sweat in her crumby fold up chair that felt like it would collapse at any second.

“Acelynn Rogers.” Her principal said with a smile, they had gotten to know each other quite well... on many occasions. Her family cheered, and she grinned. Her grin only grew when she saw her big brother standing beside her mom in the bleachers yelling the loudest out of them all. After the ceremony concluded and students were recognized and given awards (Ace included for her impeccable attendance which should have been a joke) she sprinted out to the parking lot in her sneakers. Her mom got her in a dress, but she had tossed the heels aside as soon as the ceremony ended.

“Stevie!” She shouted and he turned, grinning as she ran at him. She jumped into his arms and he hugged her close.

“Acely!” He cheered, spinning her around and absolutely crushing her ribs. He set her down and kissed the top of her head, “you’re graduated!”

“I’m graduated! Are you staying for dinner?” She so desperately wanted him to say yes, but he shook his head sadly.

“Sorry, kid, I gotta go to the lake house tonight. Buck is meeting me there,” Wanda whipped her head around from where she stood with her family, crushed under her brothers arm, “and I have to let him in.”

“Oh, yeah okay. That’s fair. We’ll celebrate tomorrow though?” At that Steve nodded, sending a wink her way and she smirked in response before her mom squished them together for a picture.

>———————————<✪>———————————<

The Rogers’ (minus Steve) and the Maximoff’s had dinner together that night. It wasn’t often that everyone got together, but they did today. Her mom cut up vegetables in the kitchen, talking about nonsense work stuff with Wanda’s mom and their dads cooked burgers on the barbecue. It was short and sweet, the humidity becoming too much for everyone so they retired early. Wanda’s parents hugged their daughter goodbye like they would never see her again even though she would see them in a few weeks when she drove back up for their own trip.

The girls spent the evening packing for the summer, passing out on Acelynn’s bedroom floor that night. They woke up early, the sound from the neighbour’s lawn mower shocking them as though cold water had been dumped on their heads. “I guess that means it’s time to go.” Wanda crawled up from her spot on the fluffy rug and stretched. Plucking a record off the wall, Ace nodded, slipping it into its covering to set in one of her many bags.

They got dressed, both just choosing a cropped band tee out of Ace’s closet and a pair of jean shorts. They ran downstairs for some breakfast and said goodbye to her parents, calling a “peace out, homie” up to her father in his office, who in turn scolded her for such informal language.

Much like the day before, the air was sticky and too warm, the garage still stuffy from having gone unopened for several days. After struggling to cram their belongings into the trunk, they finally got it organized and closed. “All the cassettes are in the front somewhere, see if you can find them before we get outta town,” Ace was buzzing with excitement. She felt as though someone took a box of popsicles and just blended it all up to inject into her. They were graduated, it was summer and they only had to pop back to drop off Wanda in three weeks. She was stoked.

Taking off across town, they stopped at the gas station for some drinks and a couple snacks before heading out. As they left town, the nice houses started to become fewer and far between, more trees than civilization. There were a few camping spots, but none really. It wasn’t a large town that they lived in, but it wasn’t a small one either. People lived their lives; some would move, many simply stayed. Families in that town ran many generations back, all intertwining as friends or relatives somehow. Although it wasn’t obvious, Ace was desperate to leave. She wanted to experience the city, live a little, do something other than sit around this little town her whole life. Ace was eccentric as her father liked to say, more outgoing than many people in town, but they all just liked her like that.

Trees and mountains grew tall beside them over the hours, sometimes the terrain flattened out. Other times it didn’t. They stopped at a diner about halfway to the “mansion”, right around one in the afternoon. They took it as takeout and drove up to one of the many beach accesses that littered the highway. There were tons of little lakes littered throughout their drive and they took a moment to stand in the fresh water and watch people swim, talking about how good their sandwiches were and what it would be like to be one of the many ducks flying overhead. With a sigh and a stretch, they got back in the car and headed out again.

They barely made it to town, having forgotten to fill up with gas for a third time. They rolled into the gas station just on time, filled up and took the rest of the drive to the mansion. The mansion sat near the lake, about twenty minutes out of town and down a back road. Her parents built it when they first got married, always wanting to have a place to escape to in the summer with the kids, her and Steve felt like they grew up in two places.

As they neared the house though, Ace found herself growing nervous. “Wan, I haven’t seen him in a year and a half… it’s dumb because I kinda missed him.

Wanda had been fully expecting this revelation, just wasn’t expecting it when they were driving along the nicely paved road lined with beautiful red maple trees so close to the house. “Of course you did, you kissed him.” Wanda stretched in the passenger seat, her legs and butt sore from sitting all day, “At least be civil. You can hate him all you want if you so choose, but we both know you’re in love with him.”

Acelynn sighed, glancing to her friend briefly before signalling to turn into the driveway. Wanda’s jaw dropped in awe, “I forgot how nice…” she trailed off, watching as Ace’s face fell. The beautiful lake house had an upper and lower porch, the upper porch extending off the bedrooms upstairs and windows adorning the house in various places. It was a beautiful home, Wanda felt it was almost indescribable, there were no words for how magnificent (and massive) it was. There was a four car garage next to the house that matched the siding. One of the doors was open, housing an all too familiar shiny black car for Acelynn’s liking. “He’s here.” Wanda murmured in an almost creepy sing-song tone.

“And so are we.” She shook her head, pulling up around the planter in the middle of the driveway and stepped out, stretching her legs. “Steven!” She called, pulling the trunk open. On cue, he came bounding down the steps. He ran for his sister who screamed and ran away, a chorus of “no” falling from her lips as he grabbed her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Barnes! We have a delivery!” He called into the house, grabbing the suit cases with his sister pounding on his back.

“Put me down!” She shouted just as Wanda spun around, wide-eyed and looking rather distraught. Before she could ask anything that’s when she saw it too.

Bucky hand in hand with a beautiful, skinny, tall blonde, Steve’s girlfriend traipsing behind them with a similar expression on her face that Wanda had, hers more apologetic. The red-head Steve was dating, Natasha, knew everything whereas Steve knew nothing aside from the little crush.

Feeling sick, she held onto Steve’s arm a minute as he set her down. Her heart crushed on the floor, she could see it being stepped on right under Bucky’s feet and tears welled in her eyes. Why would he care? She was stupid to think the kiss meant something to him.

>———————————<✪>———————————<

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it, this was my first tumblr fic and I’m really happy with it so far! I will be posting other parts with time (unless of course no one wants me too).

#bucky barnes #bucky x oc #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x oc series

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