#being on the run for months before finally being brought to the hospital in clubs
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“I won't cry, for you see,
When you're gone, I'll still be Bloody Mary.”
x~x~x~x
HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri // featuring Cato Reese @catohphm and referencing Veruca McQuaid @ariparri
x~x~x~x
Nearly everyone in the Country of Spades openly mourned the loss of their beloved “Counselor,” the Jack of Spades, Duncan Ashe. He had been very well-liked by most of its people, so even those who hadn’t agreed with him politically or liked him as a person put on a good show of empathy and compassion in the face of it. Even Patricia Rakepick -- who everyone knew was Duncan Ashe’s main rival for power -- spoke very grimly and soberly about the assassination, though there were plenty of people who didn’t believe her act.
One of those people who believed it the least was Jacob Cromwell, a courtier who had been considered Duncan Ashe’s key advisor. The day before Duncan’s death, his mother Lane’s work visa to Hearts had been abruptly rescinded by Rakepick, who claimed that Lane leaving the country posed a threat to national security. Jacob had been so furious that he’d gone straight to Duncan about it, and he wasn’t pleased either.
“Your mother’s not the only one,” Duncan had told him, his jaw clenched with anger. “All visas and permissions that had been previously given have suddenly been revoked, all supposedly because of ‘security concerns.’ Some people have already been arrested on trumped-up charges, to try to prevent them from leaving.”
“Because she’s afraid folks’ll gab about the rotten state of things here, if they’re allowed to leave?” Jacob presumed, his voice pure venom at the thought.
“Pretty much. Rakepick knows the world wouldn’t be on her side in a lot of her positions. She wants to keep this whole thing contained here, in Spades -- even if public opinion isn’t really on her side, she can manipulate that more, if she asserts control here. The less objective sources people can turn to from the outside, the more they’ll have to rely on her and her supporters’ take on things.”
Jacob’s brow furrowed. “But this is overstepping her boundaries, isn’t it? She’s only in charge of the military -- it’s your job to deal with state affairs, Ashe, not hers.”
“Of course it is, and she knows it,” Duncan spat. “She’s gotten really bold, to challenge me like this.”
The Counselor got up from his desk.
“She’s asked me to meet her later tonight,” he said solemnly. “Jacob...I think if your mother has any hope of getting back to Carewyn, she’ll have to find her own way out.”
He paused. His eyes lingered on Jacob’s hand on the desk, but he resisted the urge to take it.
“...And so should you,” he said more quietly.
Jacob’s blue eyes flared. “I’m not leaving you, Ashe.”
“You made this plan for you to leave home because you saw how bad things were getting,” Duncan reminded him. “Don’t play the hero now.”
“Ashe, Rakepick sees you as a threat! If she -- ”
“Your sister needs you,” Duncan told him very sharply. “Your mother needs you.”
It was a pointed blow. Duncan knew Jacob well enough to know how selflessly and unconditionally he adored his family. Jacob quieted immediately.
Duncan swallowed and, clenching his fist as he resisted the urge to take Jacob’s shoulder and squeeze it, he took a step forward, his dark eyes boring into Jacob’s even as his voice grew lower in his throat.
“...Rakepick knows you’re aligned with me, Jacob. You know she and her allies will want to have some sort of leverage over you, to get what they want. Carewyn’s safe from Rakepick for now, but your mother isn’t. And if she has you...well, she has leverage over your mother and Carewyn. ...Over me.”
Jacob looked up at Duncan, startled. Duncan’s face was flushed darkly, but he kept his shoulders very straight.
“Over...?” started Jacob, but Duncan cut him off defensively.
“They love you, Jacob,” he said, his voice growing a little louder as he tried to force Jacob’s train of thought to a halt and redirect it. “You and I both know that if you were in trouble, Carewyn would want to run right back here to save you, and if she did -- well, then she’d be walking right back into Rakepick’s claws, wouldn’t she?”
His dark eyes hardened.
“You Cromwells always put each other over yourselves: it’s what you do. But if you want to protect your family, you’ll have to use that brilliant brain of yours for once and get out yourself. If you don’t, then Rakepick will have the means to catch all three of you. And once she has you, she’ll make you serve her ends -- just to make sure you can never break free again.”
Jacob stared at Duncan for a long moment. Then, setting his jaw, he nodded.
“I’ll write to Mum,” he said lowly. “Tell her to get out now, while she still can.”
“Then you’ll go after?” Duncan pressed him.
Jacob hesitated. Duncan held his gaze,
“...Yes,” Jacob said very quietly after a long moment.
Duncan’s eyes softened. His dark eyes lingered on Jacob’s face, becoming vaguer as they dipped into the creases of his lips -- he even found himself taking a step forward, just to better take in the tiny, charming creases around the other man’s eyes -- the softness of the curl beside his cheek...
“Jacob...” he said lowly.
“Yeah?”
But it was as though the sound of his own voice had startled Duncan back to life. Pride shot back up through his posture like an electric charge, and he immediately stiffened up again, walls coming up around his heart like an armadillo rolling up in a ball.
“...It’s nothing. Just...be careful.”
Jacob watched Duncan head for the door. Duncan could feel Jacob’s blue eyes running along his shoulder and the back of his head, trying and failing to read his expression, but stubbornly pushed back the urge to turn around. He was afraid if he did, he’d have trouble letting go of that curly-haired idiot ever again.
Because Duncan had meant what he’d said -- Jacob being within Rakepick’s reach was dangerous for all those who loved him and longed to protect him. And with the country falling apart from the inside and Veruca’s safety still in active danger after what happened to Coby, Duncan had more than enough to worry about as it was.
He couldn’t afford to worry about Jacob. He couldn’t be paralyzed with fear thinking of what might happen to Jacob, if things got much worse -- not when he had the whole Country of Spades to consider.
x~x~x~x
That very night, following his meeting with Duncan, Jacob sent an urgent note to his mother via a courier. The following morning, the whole Country of Spades learned the horrible news of Duncan Ashe’s assassination.
When Jacob received the news of Duncan’s death, he was absolutely beside himself with grief. His reaction to the news, coupled with the message from Rakepick demanding an audience with him, was so out of control that Jacob ended up violently taking his feelings out on all of the guards who had been assigned to guard the Ace of Spades when he went to confront her. After taking down a good thirty men with nothing but his own two fists and the blunt side of a shot gun, Jacob was finally overcome by Rakepick’s chief stooge, a dark-haired man named Kazuhiro Shiratori, and about ten other soldiers providing back-up. As it’d turned out, Jacob hadn’t had any additional shot or powder besides the one currently in the gun, hence why he’d only used the blunt side of it like a club. Many of Rakepick’s supporters insisted the lone shot in the gun was clearly intended for the Ace of Spades. If it weren’t for Rakepick herself intervening and ordering his imprisonment, Jacob Cromwell likely would’ve died that day.
It was nearly two weeks later that Rakepick followed up with Jacob in his cell. When she arrived, she found the prison quiet and still, except for a low, melancholy song echoing down the empty stone halls.
“Our duty first -- love must not lead...
What might have been, had fate decreed?
‘Twere better far, had we not met --
I loved you then...I love you yet...
Say ‘au Revoir,’ but not ‘Goodbye’ --
The past is dead: love cannot die.
‘Twere better far, had we not met --
I loved you then...I love you yet...”
Rakepick had heard Jacob Cromwell sing before -- she’d heard both him and his younger sister Carewyn sing in passing, so she had no trouble picking out that familiarly handsome Tenor tone, even despite its slight tear-soaked rasp.
He was grieving. However handsome his voice sounded, it echoed with bottomless pain -- the aching and longing of a man who’d lost the love of his life.
It made Rakepick’s eyes narrow that bit more as the prison guard escorted her down the hall toward Jacob’s cell.
“Jacob Cromwell, your Majesty,” the guard said dutifully.
Rakepick looked into the cell. Jacob had been bound with four different chains, each restraining his limbs to keep him tightly locked to the wall. His left sleeve was completely ripped off his shirt, he was nursing several bruises on his face, and his lip was bleeding.
Jacob looked up through the bars at the sound of the guard’s voice. The sight of Rakepick made him violently shoot to his feet, only to be held back like an attack dog on a leash by the chains binding him.
“You!” he snarled.
Rakepick’s expression became a little stonier.
“Hello, Jacob,” she said lowly.
Her eyes flitted to the guard. “Leave us.”
The guard gave a little bow, before marching back up the hall.
“What do you want, you murderous snake?” Jacob spat.
Rakepick waited for him to be fully out of sight before addressing Jacob. Her dark blue eyes were very cool upon him.
“Is that how you refer to the woman who spared your life?” she asked dryly.
“I know what you did to Coby -- to Ashe!” snarled Jacob. “Ashe was supposed to meet with you that very night, when he died -- ”
“A fact that gives me no solace, in the face of his assassination,” Rakepick cut him off in a very crisp, rehearsed sort of voice. “Believe me, had I not been waiting to meet with the Jack at the location agreed upon, I may have prevented his suffering...and yours, by extension.”
“You lying -- !”
“I do lament that things had to turn out this way, Jacob,” Rakepick said a bit more quietly. “Whether you believe me or not, I sincerely do.”
She folded her arms behind her back, pacing absently to the left as she considered Jacob out the side of her eye. Then, after a moment, she spoke again.
“...When was the last time you spoke to your mother?”
Jacob twitched. He glared up at her, but didn’t reply.
“Jacob,” said Rakepick very sharply. “I asked you a question.”
“And I didn’t answer it,” Jacob shot back very coldly.
“Jacob, your mother has gone missing,” said Rakepick. “No one’s seen her in the last two weeks -- the museum has heard nothing from her, and your flat has been abandoned.”
Jacob didn’t react with any kind of surprise. This seemed to be the answer Rakepick had been looking for -- her eyes narrowed, flaring with more fire than ever.
“Where is she?” she said very quietly.
Jacob didn’t respond -- instead he just turned his head away. Rakepick took hold of the bars, her eyes searing at Jacob through them.
“Your mother avoided an official summons from the Court of Spades,” she said sharply. “As you know, that in itself is a criminal offense. And with her visa already having been revoked out of a concern for national security, that now makes your mother a wanted woman, in the eyes of both the military of Spades and the country overall. When they find her, our officers will show no mercy -- unless you give me some information I can use to find her first.”
Again, Jacob didn’t answer. Rakepick’s eyes narrowed that bit more.
“That same information could also earn you your freedom, as well, if you merely cooperate,” she murmured. “I’ve already sent a letter to your sister’s university, telling her as much.”
The mention of Carewyn made Jacob shift slightly on the floor. Rakepick tried to latch onto this.
“Carewyn would be more than capable of advocating for you at your trial -- she more than knows the law well enough to argue a plea deal before the court. Then you can go back to living just the way you did before, here in Spades. Maybe even better than before. The army could use a mind like yours...as well as your sister’s.”
Jacob bowed his head. Rakepick tilted her head a bit, trying to gauge Jacob’s expression. Then, after a long moment, without moving off the floor, Jacob very slowly raised his head again to look back up at Rakepick.
His almond-shaped blue eyes were glinting with spite, and his lips curled up in a very large and cold smirk.
“‘And once she has you...she’ll make you serve her ends, just so you can never break free again,’” said Jacob. “Looks like Ashe really had you pegged.”
The curly-haired young man sharply rose to his feet, the chains rattling loudly in the movement as he got as close to the bars he could.
“Sorry, Rakepick -- but Lane Cromwell is long gone, and well out of your reach. And Wyn is more than wise enough to see through your little game -- no matter what you might tell her, or what you might threaten me with, she will never come back to Spades...and she will never serve you.”
Jacob’s eyes blazed with hatred despite the satisfaction in his expression.
“And once I break out of here myself,” he whispered venomously, “you’ll have no more leverage over my family. And I swear, I will not rest until you meet an end even more painful than the one you thrust upon Ashe.”
By the time Jacob was finished, Rakepick’s expression had hardened, losing all possible trace of compassion.
“...Very well.”
She stared Jacob down for a long moment, her dark blue eyes just as fiery and resentful as his. Then, turning on her heel, she called down the hall.
“Guard!”
The dutiful guard from before scrambled down the hall so as to meet Rakepick.
“Yes, your Majesty?”
“Double the watch on the prisoner,” Rakepick said very coldly, “and cut three links off his restraints. I don’t want him going anywhere.”
The guard saluted, before dashing off down the hall. Rakepick shot a look over her shoulder at Jacob.
“If you will not recant your past crimes and help us locate your mother, then your execution date will be set,” she said callously. “I sincerely hope for your sister’s sake, you have a change of heart on the matter -- it would pain me deeply, to have to inform her of her brother’s passing -- ”
“You contact my sister again, and I’ll show you the meaning of pain, you heartless witch,” Jacob spat.
Rakepick sighed tiredly. “You know, Jacob, your brain could earn you the honor and esteem of the world...but your temper really does make you impossible to work with.”
With this, she strode out of the prison.
x~x~x~x
That spring, across the border in the Land of Clubs, the Ace of Clubs, Cato Reese, was startled by a message he received from a town up near their northern border. An emaciated and exhausted-looking woman had been found collapsed in a heap on the railroad tracks just north of the capitol and had been brought to the local hospital to recover. When she’d awoken and someone had told her she was in the Clubs, she’d asked if anyone could help her find someone named Orion Amari.
“Someone named Orion Amari” -- it was a phrase that could make just about anyone in the Land of Clubs laugh, considering who Orion Amari was. But Cato instead found it very concerning, and he was sure to tell Orion so, when he escorted the King of Clubs on Abraxan-back up north toward the hospital where the strange woman was recovering.
“Madam Sprout’s letter noted that her manner of dress was distinctly foreign,” Cato said thoughtfully. “A worn wool skirt, a pinstriped waistcoat and white gloves...even the pocketwatch found on her was emblazoned with a crest of Spades.”
“That would explain her not knowing my position,” said Orion serenely.
“Maybe,” Cato granted as he adjusted his grip on the reins of his Abraxan steed, “but...well, I’ve seen those sorts of pocketwatches before. The Jack of Spades had one when he came to visit, remember? That has to indicate she’s got to be at least a little familiar with the Court of Spades, wouldn’t it? But if she’s encountered you through the Court of Spades, then she would have to know you’re the King of Clubs...”
“And yet she doesn’t,” finished Orion.
“Exactly.”
Orion’s steed Tralee gave a light murr. The King of Clubs brought a gentle hand through her silvery white mane to soothe her.
“It seems this stranger has some knowledge of me outside of my position as King,” Orion said, and he too looked intrigued now. “Let us get to the bottom of that swiftly.”
x~x~x~x
When the King and Ace arrived at the hospital, Madam Sprout led them under seemingly endless ceilings and past beautiful wooden pillars carved to resemble the trees that framed the building’s exterior. They migrated all the way to the far end of the ward, which held the bed belonging to the woman in question.
She was an older woman, likely the age to be both Cato and Orion’s mother, with long blond hair around a heart-shaped face and shadows under her eyes, which shone a bright, almond-shaped blue.
A very familiar blue...
When Orion and Cato approached, the woman looked up. Despite the frailness of her features, her eyes were very bright and alert.
“You have visitors, Lane,” Madam Sprout said kindly.
The name made a strange light of recognition spark to life in Orion’s eyes. Cato glanced at him, but his face was a mask he couldn’t quite read as he walked up to the woman’s bedside.
The woman called Lane smiled at Orion.
“Are you Orion?” she said. Her voice was very soft and oddly fragile, and yet echoed with warmth and hope.
“Yes,” said Orion.
Lane’s expression bloomed like a flower, her lips spreading into a full, relieved smile. She reached out to gently take Orion’s hand in both of hers, even if the kind gesture made Orion stiffen like a lightly startled cat.
“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said earnestly. “Even if it is like this. Winnie’s spoken so highly of you...”
“‘Winnie?’” repeated Cato, confused.
He looked to Orion for an explanation, but Orion was instead solely focused on Lane.
“Would your name...be Lane Cromwell?” the King asked, his voice very soft.
“Yes,” said Lane. “I’m Carewyn’s mother.”
That strange glint from before took over Orion’s eyes at that name, shining much brighter than before and yet also looking more tense.
“You were supposed to join Carewyn in the Kingdom of Hearts this last winter,” murmured Orion. “And yet you are here. I feel that I should be very concerned, about that.”
Lane’s eyes welled up with pain.
“The army blocked my work visa at the last moment,” she explained.
“Rakepick’s officially shut down all transport in and out of the Country of Spades,” supplied Cato, and Orion glanced at him. “She just shut down the railroad three days ago.”
“I thought she would,” said Lane. “I knew I’d need to show identification to use the train anyway...that’s why I just decided to follow the tracks on foot. I knew they’d take me to the Land of Clubs...even the Kingdom of Hearts eventually, if I just kept going...”
“You went on foot?” said Cato, alarmed. “To do that -- it must’ve taken you weeks to get here...”
“What of your son, Jacob?” Orion asked. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him as he regarded Lane. “He worked for your Jack of Spades, didn’t he?”
Another pained shudder rippled over Lane’s expression.
“...When my visa was blocked, Jay promised to follow up with the Jack of Spades. When I returned home that night, a courier brought me this -- ”
She leaned over to pick up a water-stained, crumpled-up letter, which Cato unfolded and read aloud:
“‘Mum -- your fears were right. Rakepick doesn’t want you leaving the country. Ashe has said there are already others who’ve been rounded up and put in jail after trying and failing to leave.’”
Cato shot a quick glance at Orion. His King’s black eyes had narrowed slightly.
“‘I’ll have to stay in the capitol tonight, to finish up some work for Ashe,’” Cato pressed on. “‘In the meantime, pack your things and leave the Country of Spades, now. It doesn’t matter where -- just run. I know you’ll want to wait for me so we can leave together, but I won’t be home for at least a whole day, and the Ace might get to you before I do. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be for us all to get out. Don’t worry -- I’ve already promised Ashe I’ll be right behind you, and now I’m promising you. I’ll find Wyn, and then I’ll find you. I love you. Jacob.’”
“Then it’s as we feared,” Orion murmured.
Orion looked from Lane, who had bowed her head to try to obscure the grief in her expression, to Cato.
“I must make contact with Veruca,” he said solemnly. “She’ll want to know at least one of the new Queen of Spades’ targets successfully escaped.”
Lane looked up, very startled.
“Queen?” she repeated, her soft voice incredibly tense and urgent.
Cato nodded grimly. “Patricia Rakepick recently took on the mantle of Queen, in the advent of Duncan Ashe’s death. She claimed it was out of a desire to ‘better centralize noble authority.’”
Despite the stability of his voice, the Ace of Clubs’s disapproval was apparent. Orion, whose face was a bit more stoic, clasped his hands in front of him as he looked out the window, his eyes absently resting on Tralee, who was tied up securely outside the hospital.
“We’ll use the regular channels, to reach Veruca,” he told Cato solemnly. “For Carewyn, however, I may need to be more direct...”
“Are you planning on going to the Kingdom of Hearts yourself to see her?” said Cato, surprised.
“I have sent letters to the university of Hearts, and they have reached her there,” said Orion. “Perhaps if I request an audience with the King and Queen of Hearts, I can use that as an excuse to likewise seek out a direct audience with Carewyn.”
#hphm cardverse#cardverse au#jacob cromwell#patricia rakepick#lane cromwell#orion amari#cato reese#my writing#aesthetic#moodboard#jacashe my boys I'm so sorry for the angst ;~;#just like in canon you guys didn't get to overcome your pride and stupidity respectively enough to come clean about your feelings DX#the escape artist will ttly have to break into the clocktower at some point just to see his dead boyfriend :'(#lane is a trooper though!!#being on the run for months before finally being brought to the hospital in clubs#not easy to try to bust out of spades with the army of spades breathing down your neck#don't underestimate mama lane she may be soft-spoken and bookish but she is a resilient little thing#just like her daughter!
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You Would’ve Died. Eddie Munson
VOLUME 2 SPOILERS
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: You finally leave the house after Eddie’s death, but you bump into someone you never expected to
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: VOL 2 SPOILERS, awful writing, mentions of death, grieving, cursing, angst? (I don't know tell me if it is)
A/N: I'm sorry if this is shit. this is 1. my first ever one shot, so I really don’t know how this is gonna turn out and 2. my first ever Eddie Munson fanfic. I haven't wrote fan fiction in two years and I haven't wrote in about 10 months so i’m sorry if this is bad.
I grab another two bags of chips and throw them into my cart. “Do we need anything else?” i ask my mom and she shakes her head ‘no’ “Y/N!” I hear my name being shouted, I look around and see Steve and Robin along with Dustin. “I’ll go pay for these, meet you in the car sweetie.” my mom says to me and I give her a faint smile.
“Hey guys.'' I say and Dustin gives me a hug “Hey dusty” i say faintly not wanting to talk incase i start to cry. “How have you been?” Steve asks me and I just nod “Uh I mean you know considering… i’ve been ok i guess” i shrug my shoulders not wanting to go into too much detail, he just nods knowing i don't want to talk about it.
“How uh, how are you guys? How’s Max?” guilt starts to set inside me knowing that i haven't been to the hospital to see her yet. “She’s I don't know how to put it. She’s in a coma. We all hope she will recover but as of right now the doctors aren't too sure that she will.” Steve says and i nod
“Guys. I'm sorry I haven't been around and that I haven't gone to see Max. I promise I will but uh, this is actually the first time I've been out of my bedroom since last week.” I quietly whisper. Robin walks over to me and puts an arm around me “Y/N… we haven't been judging you. Lucas wasn't the only person who lost someone that night. You need time to grieve. We understand. Take your time “Y/N” I softly smile.
“I better go guys. Mom is probably waiting for me. I’ll see you guys soon.” and with that, i walk out of the store and i walk to the car. “Sweetie are you ok?” I buckled my seatbelt and immediately burst into tears. “Oh honey” she states while rubbing my arm “He’s gone. I miss him. Mom, I loved him, I never got to tell him. Those three words.” I cry louder.
“Sweetheart. That boy knew damn rightly you loved him. He felt the same. I saw it with my own eyes. He looked at you the way your father used to look at me” i look over to her “Really?” I ask and she nods.
We arrived home. “Mom? I’m gonna go for a walk. I promise I'll be safe.” she shouts “That’s okay. Be back before dinner.” I close the door and start my walk. I brought my walkman. I was listening to Master of Puppets. “He played Master of Puppets. Most metal ever.” i recall Dustin telling me when he visited me a couple days after.
“Come on sweetheart. You know I'll teach you as soon as I figure out how to play it okay?” Eddie says lightheartedly “Fine.” i pout he shakes his head “No no no, not that face. Come onnnn you know i can't resist that cute pout” he laughs and i giggle.
“Okay so I got Empire Strikes Back or The Breakfast Club? Which one?” he asks holding up the vhs tapes “Hmm Star Wars” he smiles “Good choice. Knew you'd pick it” i smiled looking at him “what?” he asks with an eyebrow raised as he sees me looking at him. “Nothing Eds, just happy i have you in my life.” he comes over to me and snuggles into me “And you're never losing me. You have me forever. Especially with one of my rings on your chain.”
I snap out of the memories. I did lose him, the only thing I have of him is his ring. I wipe a tear from my face as I walk into the hospital. I ask where Max’s room is and head there. I stop at the door. I don't know how I'm going to see her in this state. I walk in and see Lucas. As soon as he sees me he runs up and hugs me.
“Easy there tiger” I smile and wink, he rolls his eyes “Y/N stop with the tiger jokes” he smiles. “Well how else am i supposed to make mr sinclair smile?” i say. That's when he realises that I'm right. “I’m glad you're here.” “So am I, Lucas. I’m sorry, it took me so long. I didn't mean to be selfish.”
“Hey. I get it, he was the love of your life. Trust me you were definitely his. Anytime we played dnd and you phoned needing him he cancelled it then and there. He would've done anything for you… he did.” he says and i look at him with tears “Yea, he did.” i say. I sit at the end of Max’s bed and hold her hand.
“I’m gonna get some coffee, do you want some?” he asks and i nod with that he leaves. “Oh Maxi, I need you. You were my fireball. You kept me on my feet, I know it took me a while to come see you, but it hurt. When I found out that e- he wasn't the only one that died that night. Fuck, it almost killed me.”
“When I found out that El saved you, I was so happy. I may have lost him, but at least I still had my fireball. You would've liked my brother, not the way you like Lucas. More the way you like Eddie or Steve, he was a lot like them. But he was also a fireball. He used to be my fireball, he’s gone now. Car accident. I hate saying it but I think I'm glad he wasn't here to have to witness everything.” i wiped away my tears.
“I haven't heard you talk about Conor since you were a sophomore.” Lucas says “Fuck. Lucas, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” he hands me my coffee, i nod “I know, it still kinda hurts to talk about him.” he nods “Did he ever meet Conor?” i shake my head “That's how we met. I was alone in the cafeteria, after Conor died people didn't want to talk to me, his friends left me to grieve by myself, he was probably rolling in his grave at them.” i laugh
“He came up to me one day, and from then we were best of friends. Only i had my eye on him since freshman year, he was a junior so when he came up to me I was a stuttering mess but that was the start of it. I think Conor would've loved him” Lucas smiles “He would've been protective” i giggle “Definitely.” Erika, Steve, Robin and Dustin come in.
“Oh hey! I was about to get ready to leave.” I get up and give Lucas a hug. “I'll be back soon I promise and I'll tell more stories if you buy me more coffee deals?” he nods “You got a deal Y/L/N” I go over to Erika “Hey Miss Applejack” she smiles “hi “Y/N” I give her a hug “Bye guys.” “Y/N wait up.. Can I drive you home?” Steve asks after running after me I shake my head “I have one last place to go before i go home and i need to go alone.” he nods and i leave. Towards the school.
I get to the bench “Oh Eds i miss you.”
*ONE WEEK EARLIER*
“Where the fuck did he go?” i ask “now's not the time for questions Y/L/N” Steve says. We start to run back to Eddie’s trailer. I stop when I hear sobbing. I see Dustin “DUSTIN!” I shout and he sees me he limps towards me turning me around “Dustin what's wrong?” I look around and see a body laying on the ground.
I walk closer “Please Y/N don't”. Too late. I drop to my knees screaming “EDDIE” i say tugging his chest “Please no no. You don't get to do this. You promised me that you wouldn't leave me.” Steve lifts me and I thrash “NO! HE NEEDS ME!” i scream “Y/N we need to go”
We get back to Hawkins and Eddie’s trailer is already ripped apart. I quickly ran to his room “Y/N COME ON!” I grab half of his clothes and stuff them in a bag. I grab his tapes, his secret stash of weed. And lastly I grab his guitar and get out of the trailer “What were you thinking?” Steve screams and Nancy tries to calm him down.
“Keeping sentimental stuff! I don't know if you've realised but i just lost the love of my goddamn life. The least you could do is to let me take some things to remember him by.” i saw tears streaming down my face before walking to my house.
*PRESENT*
“God, why did you have to take him away from me? He was my person. I needed him. I still do.” I cry into my hands “why did you have to fight? You always said there was no shame in running. Eds why?”
“Because sweetheart. You would've died.” my breath hitches as I hear the familiar voice. I turn around and see him.
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson oneshot#eddie#joseph quinn#joe quinn
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who you are and who you’ve been
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 8,490
summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.
warnings: SMUT. Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.
a/n: Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!
“Mama! Mama! You here?”
You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room. She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy. You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit…
You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in. But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.
God, you missed being young… Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.
You still washed your hands after touching almost anything. An instinct that never went away.
That year and the couple years before had been… insane. But at least it incited real change in the world. The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.
History did have a habit of repeating itself. Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.
“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.
At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage. That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.
The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left. You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of. You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university. And by then, what was the point? They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.
“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.
Now that… that was hard to answer… You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember. You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home…
Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look. “I’m fine right where I am.”
“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”
“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.
Josephine rolled her eyes. “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.” She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time. “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine… You remember what happened last time…”
Ah, yes, the infamous incident.
Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.
There had been a… few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital. It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.
You didn’t blame her, of course. But it did make you feel like a horrible mother. One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.
“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal. “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”
“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”
You blinked.
And then, you blinked again.
You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face. “No the fuck you did not. I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!” You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt. “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”
“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table. “And it’s not a pre-death support group. I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.” Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.
This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.
“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”
“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.
Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.
“Honestly, mama… I just want you to be happy… You should have friends. You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”
“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you? And Danny?” You asked.
But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone. Completely, and utterly, alone. Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.
Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.
God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time. You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.
But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it. There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.
And you’d made your peace with that.
Sort of.
Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours. Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.
Thank god. She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.
“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin. “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it… It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with. Please?”
And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?
“Alright,” you said after a moment. “I’ll go once. And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back. And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”
She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet. “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”
Oh, good. She was going all in.
“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.
“Tonight.”
Uh. What?
“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up. “What?! You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”
She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades. “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”
You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on. “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.
Josephine gave you a look as she continued. “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”
Well, you had lost some weight… Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.
In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.
You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.
She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning. A South American cruise.
Josephine had never married, never had kids. Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through. It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.
Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.
“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big. “Come on. I’ll drive you and pick you up.”
“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into. “You’d think I could take an Uber.”
The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held. The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.
But this was… upscale. Sophisticated.
Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.
It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.
“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.
A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him. “You always call women as old as me miss?”
“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink. “My dad’s single, you know. If you were… looking.”
“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed. “Can I get a Manhattan?”
The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father. And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.
You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you. “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked. At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed. “Can I get a double on the rocks?”
The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.
“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding. Josephine had told you to make friends. That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into. “You know your whiskeys.”
The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face. You hadn’t dared look at him yet. “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”
“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.
And oh, you wished you hadn’t. He was… stunning. The very definition of male beauty. His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties… The 1940s, that is. Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams. He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.
But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older. You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.
“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment. Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.” He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips. There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome. “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey. It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station. Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”
You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades. “Really?” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.
“Mmm…” He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem. You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display. “Really. I’m James. What’s your name?”
Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name. God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.
His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up. “You’re here for the meeting, too?”
“Um… Yes,” you said, ducking your head.
“But, doll…” He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips. “You don’t look a day over thirty-five. Are you sure you’re a senior?”
Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o. “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”
James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart. “A club?! Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious. “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now? Brothels?”
For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.
For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable. He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink. “Um…”
“You’re the Winter Soldier. James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring. “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”
Shit, his laugh was beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. Like Apollo or something...
James’s head was thrown back in laughter. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut. “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath. At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again. “What did you write about? How devilishly handsome I am?”
You couldn’t believe you were saying this. “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”
Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you. Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.
The meeting was… long. Boring.
Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.
Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.
As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours. “So… Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames. You weren’t gonna survive.
Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.
But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?
“Um… Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him. “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home… I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over. She’s nosey. Real… Real nosey.”
“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled. “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”
Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.
“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home. She couldn’t tell from the look on your face. “Did you like it?”
“Hm? Yeah.” Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.
“Are you gonna go again?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers. At least you were getting out of the house.
Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be. Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed. She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.
Thank fuck.
You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.
“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.
Okay, quick body shower. It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.
You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.
And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.
As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.) By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.
“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside. His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light. “Woah… You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”
“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took. “How so?”
“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass. “It’s cozy. Sweet.”
Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink. “Um… so those papers…”
Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter. “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island. “If I am… If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.” His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was. “Am I here just for the papers?”
“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last. His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.
Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?
But he was perfect? Why the hell would he be nervous?
Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter. “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting. Just wanted to kiss you. Just wanted to… to touch you.” He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again. “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”
A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt. Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest. He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts. There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…
But you liked this better. There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.
You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest. “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.
Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs. “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.
Gotta be fair, after all.
“James…”
“Fuck, baby girl… Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy. “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly. He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.
“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious. What if he thought your pussy was weird? Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.
But he was born in the forties.
But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!
Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him. The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.
“Hey.”
You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s. “Yes?”
“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds. “There’s no need… It’s just you and me, okay? And you’re absolutely perfect.”
Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss. “Okay… Just you and me.”
James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Come on. I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter. Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.
You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck. “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.
The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall. “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.
Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips. “Y-Yes. Yes. Please, I need more, James…”
James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you. “I’ll give you everything you want.”
“That’s a tall order.” You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass. “You sure you can fill it?”
He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom. You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips. “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.
“Please… Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said. Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.
Fucking worth it, though.
James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.
“I… I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time. Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours. “Oh, fuck…”
“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”
You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours. There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.
You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.
A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined. Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.
There were no words that needed to be said.
His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw. It had certainly marked up your neck.
“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth. Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold. “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted… But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”
“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.
“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.
“Yeah.” A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.
The next morning, you woke up alone. The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.
Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.
It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it. As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.
You had been right about feeling it in your knees.
You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt. Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.
He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker. He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.
Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him. He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen. In your home.
Maybe he’d like to move in…
You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.
But the thought was nice.
Him in his pajamas, making coffee… Him in your shower… Him in your bed every night…
Yeah. It’s a really, really nice thought.
“Hi.”
James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you. “Hi. I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said. “I’m making pancakes. For you. For us.” His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”
“Oh, no, I… I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.
As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed. “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”
It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.
You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.
But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.
Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.
Your first date was to a movie, a drive in. Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.
But it’s perfect. Perfect and cheesy and romantic.
Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off. He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.
It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.
Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.
“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.
At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did. It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.
“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.
He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder. “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”
The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.
“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.
“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.
James made you feel worthy.
Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.
It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.
Also… Girlfriend? Were you his girlfriend now? Officially?
That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.
But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.
“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass. The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.
Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding… Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—
Would he even want to meet Josephine?
Would Josie wanna meet him?
She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?
“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed. His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you. “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”
“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.
It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.
But you had a gut feeling. One that you had never had with your ex husband.
James was a good one. A really, really good one.
That reminded you.
When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?
Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.
Soon, you decided.
But first, you had to get through the damn hike.
Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was. He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek. His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.
It was intoxicating.
So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.
“Baby doll? Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.
“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee. “Need to taste you.”
His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head. “Fuck… Are you really this needy for me, angel? Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous… Look at you.”
Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.
Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. “Fucking shit… Good girl… Suck me off real good, baby.”
The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.
Not when you had your man so weak for you. And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.
His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you. He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.
Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting. You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband. All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.
You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy. When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering. Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.
“Fuck, fuck— Oh, shit… Baby— I’m gonna… I’m gonna—” Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat. His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip. “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?”
“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away. “You were perfect, James…”
When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.
But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.
“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.
Your relationship with James was… wonderful.
It was easy in a way you’d never had before.
Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.
It was like you two were magnets. Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.
And he’d gotten you to start writing.
“It’s your dream, doll. You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed. His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why did you stop in the first place?”
Ah.
The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.
Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say. “Um… I was married before… I know you know, but, uh…” Your fingers fiddled together nervously. You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “My husband… He wasn’t… He wasn’t nice. At all.”
Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke. He didn’t need to speak for you to know. He was there and he wasn’t running.
“I married him young… and I had Josephine young… He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going. You needed to tell him this. You needed him to understand. “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent. He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”
James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you. He needed you close. Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.
“Put me in the hospital a few times… He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie. That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.” You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him. “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am… But she came home one day during college, to surprise us… She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again. She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder. It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours. “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”
“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close. “Thank you for telling me, doll… I… I can’t imagine how hard that was… But he’ll never touch you again. No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”
“I know.”
He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I love you. So much…”
A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax. “And I love you…”
After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face. “Time to get up… I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”
Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it. He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play. He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.
“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still. “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other.
Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.
“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet. His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall. Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.
What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.
“Mama?! What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her. “Who the fuck is this?! What is he doing here?!”
Oh.
Yeah.
You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.
“Hello. I’m James. Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.
“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.
But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.
Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”
You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed. “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one. You were so nervous, you were shaking.
“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.
“Um… The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said. Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.
Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief. No. Betrayal. “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”
“I…” Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm. This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go. “I was scared… of how you’d react…”
At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours. “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah? So I’m gonna take—Danny, right? Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”
After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room. You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.
“Mama, I—”
“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.
Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak. In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.
“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man. More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “And I know… I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me. You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.” Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing. “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and… and he loves me. More than I thought anyone could ever love me. And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful. And I still need you. Everyday. But Bucky… I love him. I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”
Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers. “He… He makes you happy? He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Yeah. He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh. “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey. I promise.”
“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”
Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer. He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.
“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.
God, she looked so much like you.
He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch. The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.
Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.
“Your mama loves you something fierce.” Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.
Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.
“And I love her.”
Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes. “I’m sure she’s told you about my father. What he did.”
“She did.”
“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”
“I do.”
She eyed him for a long moment. “What are you in this for? What’s the long term?” She asked. “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years. Is that what this is?”
Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended. He wasn’t that old. “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly. “I have no doubt you know who I am. But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.” His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think. “And I… I can say that everything I’ve been through… Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her. And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”
She looked absolutely speechless. “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat. “Good. I just… I can’t see her get hurt again. Not after everything.”
“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry. “I… I actually have something to ask you about… Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”
Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying. But they were keeping it all very hushed.
“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you. “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine. She’s just gotta have her protective moment. You know how she is.”
Sniffling, you hugged her tightly. “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long… I was just so nervous… They both… They both mean the world to me.” You paused, snorting. “I knew you’d approve of him. I wasn’t so worried about you.”
“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead. “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you. He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”
Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already. “I’ve never felt something like this… But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him… I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”
You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy? “Well? You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.
“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile. “As far as dads go… He’d be pretty nice to have.”
“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.
Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll. It’s all good.”
You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee. “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”
“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face. Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room. “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”
“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake. “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss. “I love you.”
You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world. What you’d said to Josephine had been true.
“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.
You’d never been so happy.
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the Wifilcon and the Winter Router
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/Reader
Summary: When Bucky learns that his neighbor has been stealing his wifi for months.
Warnings: None
A/N: I'm not a fanfic writer at all, this, like all my stories, are adaptations to fanfics. My original stories are not written in english, so this is also a translation.
please do not repost my work
For an instant, Bucky thought that the knocking he was hearing was coming directly from his head, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time his mind played tricks on him, but he realized that the sound was actually coming, unluckily for him, from his apartment door. Oh no no no no no no no, I just got back from putting up with Sam for almost 6 full weeks, I don't need interaction with more people for now.
Bucky thought for a minute to ignore the sound, to wait for the person to give up and leave, anyway he didn't spend many days on this apartment, almost no one had seen him leave or enter the building and he had no contact with the neighbors, only with the lady on the 7th floor who once lost one of her cats, which ended up in Bucky's apartment, accidentally. Not that I found the cat in the alley and actually brought him to my apartment, it doesn't mean that I stole the cat, he was in the street by himself, I rescued him.
When the banging on the door stopped and Bucky thought he could breathe calmly again, a voice between altered and annoyed was heard all the way to the living room where he was sitting trying to overcome his third panic attack and fourth existential crisis of the day .
-"I know you're in there! I saw you coming in a few hours ago! I've been waiting for days for you to come back!"-
More out of instinct than anything else, Bucky pulled out the knife hidden in his right boot as he slowly backed away from the door. Do I really have a spy as a neighbor? Should I call Sam? Is he in danger too? Never mind now, you need an escape route Bucky, concentrate, third floor, window to the alley, 2 minutes max, the bike is parked far away, I'll have to run, but to where, rendezvous point, safe place, think....
- "for God's sake, open the door, I need you to pay for your fucking internet plan, I'm in the last season of my series and I need to know if Carolina died or not!"-
- "The internet?"- Between the andrenaline from escaping and the shock of not understanding what was happening Bucky spoke louder than an assassin, with over 60 years of experience, should have spoken. Oh, shoot.
-"Yes! Your wifi, I need it to finish watching my series"-
Whispering "wifi" to himself, Bucky tries to remember where he has heard that word before, this is what I get for never listening to Sam when he talks to me. But before he can continue his mental analysis of all the conversations with Sam about such stupid things as his favorite American Football team, the New Orleans Saints, that I remember, to how Antonio could possibly leave María on the last episode of the 6 o'clock telenovela of which Sam is a fan, his apparent "neighbor" spoke up again:
-"Jesus Christ, can you open the door? So we can resolve this like adults"-
Bucky resigned to the fact that he has given his position to the "enemy", walks to the door and opens it waiting for his death. Well at least if I die I won't have to listen to Sam again talking about Antonio and María. But on the other side of the door, there was a woman, who in her pajamas, very unthreatening but cute, was watching him as if he were a ghost but still with defiance in her eyes, in one breath she introduced herself and continued her speech about her complaint to Bucky:
-"As I was saying, I need you to pay for your internet"-
-"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you mean"- mumbled Bucky.
- "Good Lord"- To Bucky's surprise his neighbor, pushes him and enters his home, well not so much a home home, more like the headquarters of his secret club, of which he is the president, vice president and only member, the point is that it is his place, where he can (and wants to be alone), as she lives here. This must be a dream, maybe I hit my head too hard in the last mission and I am unconscious in the hospital.
Crossing the room, Bucky's unwanted visitor looks around searching for something while whispering the words "I see you are quite minimalist, but maybe this is too much, someone urgently needs to look for some inspiration on Pinterest". She stops abruptly in front of the shelf where, in theory, a TV should go, while shouting: "EUREKA", she bends down and picks up a white device which has two antennas and like a million little blinking lights, damn, that looks like something out of a spaceship, I'm being watched by aliens? I'm being spied on by Kree?
-"This is your router, this is where the internet signal comes from, which I need you to pay for so I can finish watching my series"-.
Bucky, still in shock for the third time in less than 15 minutes, as he processes the idea that perhaps Thanos' unknowing twin is spying on him for a second invasion of earth and revenge for his brother's death. He can only nod to his now more relaxed and happy neighbor.
-"Perfect, thanks! I need to check the food I left in the oven, I'll talk to you later"- and as quickly as she came she left through the same door, leaving Bucky with more doubts than answers, peeking down the hallway, he realizes that she is the neighbor who lives next door, to his right. When Bucky comes out of his initial stupor, still not fully understanding what is going on, he decides to take his cell phone out of his pocket and call his own personal Google to solve his doubts about this century: Sam Wilson.
-"Hey Buck! What's up?"-how does he always manage to sound so happy? focus Buck.
-"What the hell is a router and why do I have one in my house?"- somehow Bucky manages to formulate, although maybe his voice cracked a little on the last words.
-"That thing's been there for at least two months and you didn't even notice it? Have you even paid the bill?"-
-"You put this in here? Without telling me????"- maybe Sam is also a Kree? Who can I trust now? It's all a trap?
Listening to Bucky's accelerated breathing, Sam tries to explain to him slowly, that in this century life without internet is not life, but obviously as Bucky does not even know how to set the alarm on his own cell phone, he was in charge of buying the router and creating the contract with the company so that, the 106 year old man could have his personal network at home. He had given it the name but he had not given it a password so that Bucky himself could set it up later. "I am an excellent friend, I mean co-worker, if I may say so"
-"Sorry man, after all that happened, we got called for a mission and I forgot to tell you, do you have your laptop over there? I'll help you set up a password, so your neighbors won't steal your internet anymore"- and with that comment everything started to make sense in Bucky's slightly screwed up but functional mind about the events with his seemingly non-spy and harmless neighbor.
Meanwhile Bucky was trying to remember his own password to unlock the laptop in front of him, also courtesy of Sam. "Bucky, when you learn about online banking and that you can pay your rent, electricity, phone and everything with a click of your computer, you will thank me". It should be noted that Bucky hasn't used that laptop once, like a good 100 year old grandpa he goes to the bank to make his deposits and pay his debts, which obviously consisted only of electricity, water, gas and phone because the man had no idea that there was a device in his house that spit out internet, apparently only his next door neighbor knew this. Buck tells Sam how he thought his router was an alien device and how he thought his neighbor was a KGB agent coming to kill him. "Relax Buck we all have undesirable neighbors that steal our internet signal sometimes", well undesirable is not the word I would use to describe her but ok.
When Sam finally explains to him how to connect his computer to the internet, Bucky can finally see the name that his wonderful co-worker, not friend, because he could never be friends with someone so stupid as to think that the name "THE WIFILCON AND THE WINTER ROUTER" was a good name.
- "my god Sam, you're such an asshole!"-
-"HEY! That's a great name!"- Sam responds with as much indignation as possible, he's the best at naming everything from dogs to wifis.
- "I can't believe you're Captain America, I can't believe we're even friends"- Bucky really can't understand his luck to have friends, well, co-workers whatever.
- "Well excuse me but we're co-workers..."-
- "Well, take this call as my formal resignation, bye"-
-"Wait a minute Buck..."- Bucky ended the call, to finish -his self-imposed- punishment of listening to Sam Wilson talk for over an hour. At least I asked him how to use the bank's website to pay for the internet. Suddenly, without warning and without explanation, the memory of his neighbor is lodged in his head, her hair in a ponytail, her reading glasses, pink shorts, her sweater from some university of which he can't even remember the name because he was watching out for other things... that she wouldn't kill me obviously, he was watching out that she wouldn't pull a knife out of her back and kill me right there. The message on his laptop indicating that he can now set a new name and password to his wifi distracts him enough to stop thinking about his sweet and cute non-spy neighbor and how she would look with her hair down and her glasses off.
Still with the sweet feeling in his chest and the desire to see her again he writes as the new name of the wifi, while laughing:
"If you want free internet, you owe me at least one free dinner"
After paying the internet debt and closing the laptop, Bucky gets up hoping to find something edible in the kitchen, while leaning over to look inside his fridge and analyzing how bad it would be to eat a fried egg with pasta and sriracha, he hears again a knock on the door, but this time it does not cause Bucky the anguish and anxiety that caused him the first time, but quite the opposite.
-"Open the door Winter Router! I prepared chicken pot pie for dinner"-.
#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#marvel fanfiction#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x original female character#bucky barnes x OC#marvel#mcu#fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#james bucky barnes x original character#james bucky barnes x OC#sebastian stan
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Fire in her veins - a Island Dreams AU oneshot
So, yesterday Island Dream reached the amazing milestone of 5k hits on AO3. For me, it means the world especially because ID has a special place in my heart. It was my first long Rowaelin, set in a place that I adore. It’s more than just a story. It’s set in a part of Scotland that has completely stolen my heart.
So, to celebrate I asked for prompts and @whimsicallyreading gave me a brilliant one.
“Aelin accidentally distracts Rowan and their stove catches on fire 🥰 would be funny to see the ID crew interact with a Fire Department 🤣”
inspiration hit in an instant. This fic is set about three years after the epilogue. The twins are 7 and Dalamar is 4. The story has a very Freyja-centred ending, mostly because she is my favourite. She is wild and fierce like her mother and she is funny. (Don’t get me wrong I adore Morrigan and Dalamar too. They are calmer and adorable in their own way.)
If you are new to Island Dream you can find it HERE
Well, without much further ado I will leave you to the story.
Rowan had a busy day at work. The bookshop had become very popular in town and business was good especially since Aelin had convinced him a while before to set up an internet page and an online ordering system. It had taken a while to really kick in but now he was basically serving the whole of the Hebrides and he had started getting orders as well from some remote location on the western highlands. Aelin had been right. She was the one who had started his Facebook page after all. He hated the whole thing - he had even deleted the profile he had created for fun, but he could not deny that it was handy for business. He had started promoting his events, he had hosted some indie authors and also had started a reading club at the weekend. He was proud of the job he had done. And now, with his aunt he was working on another stage. Her cafe had been shut for a few months after the last bad storm and flooding had caused some heavy damage. So when the bill for repairs had come Maeve knew it was too much and had decided to close to the dismay of the locals who loved her cakes and food. But Rowan had come up with a plan. The unit next to his shop had been vacant for a while so, he offered his aunt a deal. She could reopen her cafe inside his bookshop and they could merge the two units together. It had taken some convincing but in the end Maeve had accepted and the works had officially started.
Life was busy but he had never been happier. The twins were seven and were in P2 and Rowan could not believe how quickly they were growing up. Freyja was still as wild and school had been a challenge. She hated being forced to sit at a desk. Hated the uniform. Hated school, but apart from her rebel attitude, the teachers kept telling them that she was a bright pupil and both Rowan and Aelin relaxed. Morrigan, on the other hand was the opposite of her twin. She adored school and was still the quiet one in the family. Dalamar was still at nursery and was meant to start school the following year.
On that day Evalin had picked up the kids and brought them to the shop, something they adored. Then Rowan had taken them to swimming practice. He had kept his part time job as swimming instructor and the kids had followed in his footsteps. The twins being older were taking proper swimming classes while Dalamar just joined the club for the wee ones and splashed happily in the water while his sisters learnt to swim. When Aelin was not busy at the hospital she would accompany them and play with Dalamar.
Usually the swimming classes were enough to exhaust his kids that he could cook in peace while waiting for Aelin to get back. That evening she had texted him that they had a last minute emergency and was running late.
He tried for the umpteenth time to concentrate on a recipe for the evening when Freyja barged in the kitchen running followed by her brother and screaming that a dragon was chasing her.
Rowan grabbed his daughter and lifted her in his arms burying his face in her belly causing the girl to laugh hard “dad, the dragon” and wiggled in her father’s arms to get free but Rowan did not let go. He just walked to Dalamar and offered him his free arm “hop on, oh mighty dragon.” The boy grabbed his father’s forearm swinging like a monkey and Rowan walked into the living room, his daughter under one arms and his son swinging from the other like a jungle creature.
Morrigan joined the chaos a moment later. Rowan kneeled and she climbed on his back.
In that moment he heard the door of the house open and an instant later Aelin waltzed in the living room and saw her husband completely overwhelmed by their children. She laughed at the scene “what is happening in here?” Her hands on the hips.
“A dragon is following me.” Shouted Freyja, with still too much energy in her.
“I am not a dragon, I am a monkey.” Replied Dalamar, swinging a bit more from Rowan’s arm.
“And what are you doing, Morrigan?”
“The dragon has burned the floor.”
Rowan moved to the sofa and started to deposit the kids down “come on, let dad cook dinner. And don’t shout too much, mum is tired.”
The kids slowly climbed down their father and went to greet Aelin who hugged them all “did you all had a nice day? Did you go swimming tonight?”
“Yes.” The two girls shouted “Dad taught us how to jump in head first.”
Rowan roared with laughter “and they still are two clumsy little terrors who smash their bellies.”
“Be careful with that.” Said Aelin in full doctor mode “that type of jump is very risky, they can snap their neck if do not enter correctly.”
Rowan took a step towards his wife and wrapped his arms around her “I know. I would never put our daughters in danger.”
“Good,” she gave him a chaste kiss “now let mum take a shower and dad cook?”
“Tha.” Replied the three kids in unison.
The kids climbed back on the carpet Dalamar going back to his bricks, Morrigan to her colouring book and Freyja just kept swinging her plastic sword fighting some imaginary monster. While Aelin disappeared in the bathroom, Rowan finally managed to get back to the kitchen and think about dinner. It was getting late for the kids and he knew they would soon start to become agitated again and start bellowing for food. He grabbed a towel and threw it on his shoulder and then started preparing the ingredients. He was preparing veggie burgers made out of cous cous and chickpeas. The kids loved them. He was the one who cooked the most in the house since his hours were far more reliable and he had been doing his best to cook healthy meals, to Aelin displeasure as she complained that there were always far to many vegetables in his dishes. But she was okay with the kids following a healthy diet. Morrigan was pescatarian. The girl could not stand eating meat and last time Rowan had tried to give her beef or chicken, the poor girl had been sick all night. Whereas fish, she loved it and she was a happy veggie eater like her father. Dalamar would occasionally eat meat but with very little enthusiasms whereas Freyja was just like her mother. She would eat anything on her plate.
He was busy preparing the patties when he felt Aelin’s hand around his waist and a gentle kiss on his back.
“How the shift at the hospital?” He asked while finishing the patties and heating up the oil in the pan.
“Long.” She sighed against his chest “your dear wife might need some adult cuddling tonight.”
Rowan laughed and turned in her arms, throwing his towel on the counter. A deep kiss that, after seven years of marriage still made her toes curl. Aelin’s hands linked behind his neck and Rowan pushed her against the island and Aelin moaned in appreciation.
Until all hell broke loose.
The smoke alarm pierced the quiet of the room with its grating sound and when Aelin opened her eyes again she saw a quickly spreading fire behind Rowan.
“Rowan!” She shouted.
He turned quickly and looked for something to stop the fire but he was paralysed and he knew enough that water was not an option.
Aelin was already on the phone with the emergency services while Rowan grabbed another towel and tried to smother the fire with the only result of burning his hand.
“Ro, fire department is on its way.” She took his hand “a bad first degree burn.”
He was about to go and put it under the sink but Aelin stopped him.
At the deafening sound, the kids burst in the kitchen but Aelin pushed them away, taking Rowan with her “Come on kids let’s go back to the carpet.”
Morrigan and Dalamar went in their mother arms scared by the commotion. Freyja was standing just near the sofa looking at the fire in the kitchen in a daze.
Rowan noticed her and grabbed his daughter in his arms, ignoring the searing pain in his hand “That is dangerous.”
“It’s pretty.” Said the little girl.
It wasn’t long after that the fire department arrived.
A woman with blonde hair, who was clearly in charge gave some orders and the team had the fire out in no time.
“Is anyone hurt?” Asked her, joining the family in the living room.
“My husband. First degree burn on his hand.” Replied Aelin pointing at Rowan leaning against the back of the sofa.
The woman called over the radio for a paramedic and Rowan scoffed claiming that he did not need one but at Aelin glared at him and he shut up.
And while Morrigan and Dalamar were still on the carpet quite shaken by the ordeal, Freyja was moving toward the tall woman. She reached for the hem of her bunker gear and pulled, claiming attention.
“Hello little one.” Said the woman kneeling to be at eye level with the girl “There’s no more fire. We fixed it. You don’t have to be scared.”
Freyja pouted “I was not scared.”
The woman laughed and brushed her silver hair and the girl grinned.
“Are you a fire woman?” She asked, looking at the adult in front of her with deep admiration.
In that instant another woman and a man came through and gave her a report, the woman nodded and got back to the girl in front of her “Yes, I am.”
Freyja beamed “can I be a fire woman too?”
The fire captain placed her heavy hat on the girl’s head which was gigantic on her but Freyja shouted for her parents but Aelin was busy speaking to the man and her dad was in the capable hands of a paramedic who was tending to his hand.
“You can be anything you want to be.” Said the woman softly, taking her hat back then she stood and Freyja bent her head upwards to stare at the woman while she walked to her parents.
“There is some damage and you will have to replace the stove and probably paint the wall near it.” She explained “I would suggest to have a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher for cooking oils. They can easily be found online and they are good to have in emergencies.”
“We will. Thank you so much.”
The woman nodded and left with her team, while the paramedic was finishing fixing up Rowan’s hand “Keep it clean and change the bandage regularly. There are ointments that you can use to help the healing process. If it gets worse make sure you go to the hospital.” Rowan looked at Aelin and grinned “thank you. My wife is an A&E doctor, I am sure she will keep me right.”
“That’s why she looks familiar. Western Isles hospital, isn’t it? You are Aelin.”
“Hi Sarah.”
Once the house was quiet again Aelin relaxed for a moment and Rowan went to Morrigan and Dalamar while Freyja was still staring at the door where the fire department had left.
“What is it, my love?”
Freyja turned at her mother’s voice, her face beaming with unbridled joy. They were all shaken by the evening, but her fierce girl was actually smiling.
“That was a fire woman.”
“Yes, my darling.”
“I want to be a fire woman too.”
Aelin crouched down to meet her daughter’s eyes and brushed some hair off her face “you can be anything you want to be, mo chridhe. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Freyja hugged her mother then ran to her father, sister and brother shouting that she was going to be a fire woman.
Rowan joined Aelin a moment later and pulled her to his chest “I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“I got distracted.”
Aelin lightly punched him in the chest “I am the one who distracted you.”
He sighed “we have no dinner.”
“I’ll phone mum and ask her if we can go to her place.”
Aelin disappeared and Rowan stood in the kitchen looking at the mess. The fire had quickly spread and a part of the counter was damaged too. Everything was covered in foam and wasn’t even sure if it was safe to use the oven. The patties lay like burned blobs at the side.
Aelin came back a moment later “mum is happy to have us. She is probably making dinner already.” She tugged her husband “let’s go, buzzard. We’ll think about it tomorrow.”
Once they finished getting the kids ready they went back to their room “So, Freyja wants to be a firefighter. She was staring at the fire in marvel and was amazed at seeing the two women firefighters.”
Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest “She is fearless like you. She has fire in her. I can totally see her become a badass firefighter.”
Aelin hugged him back in silence.
“She is our wee fireheart.”
Twelve years later, when Freyja finished her training at the fire academy and was assigned at the firehouse in Stornoway Aelin and Rowan happily looked back at that night knowing that it had changed the life of their daughter and were never happier of a fire in their house.
#island dreams#rowaelin#rowaelinkids#rowan whitethorn#aelin galathynius#rowaelin fanfic#rowaelin fanfiction#domestic fluff
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devour (m)
pairing: human!baekhyun x vampire!reader (f)
genre: smut, paranormal
warnings: mentions of blood, pain, monsters etc, explicit sex involving some slight dom/sub themes but not really. a lot of position switching, oral (m receiving), cursing
word count: 6.6k
summary: you’re thirsty. so damn thirsty. and baekhyun is the only one that can give you what you want. it’s the last time, really the last time, you tell yourself.
a/n: hello my lovely amazing readers! thank you so much for being so patient with me these last several months, i know i haven’t been very consistent with my posting BUT i promise i’m trying. i started this piece about 3 weeks ago and my only goal was to finish it by the end of the month. thankfully i just barely finished in time! i hope you enjoy but first, a disclaimer: i haven’t read or watched anything about vampires in many years so i know there may be things that don’t technically make sense. vampire enthusiasts pls do not come for me, i did my best.
thanks to: all my followers, @jjinyounf for discussing vampire reproductive systems, & @flowerbeom and @jjpmoans for hyping me up and giving me love and encouragement whenever i need it, which is a lot!
Last time, you told yourself it was the last time.
The last time you let Baekhyun into your apartment at half past three in the morning, so out of your mind starving that you could hardly even see straight. The last time you let him take you, command your body like it was no longer your own.
You should have known you were lying to yourself.
You [3:28am]: are you up?
Baek [3:29am]: yea, why?
You [3:31am]: can you come over?
After your last message, you got no response. Perhaps, you thought, he’d fallen asleep or worse, had no interest in being your blood bag for the night. You would be disappointed, but you wouldn’t blame him.
You rolled over in bed, flopping onto your stomach as you buried your face into your pillow. Maybe you could simply push through and wait until morning, when Kyungsoo would be awake and able to help you.
After you turned a few months ago, totally unexpectedly, it had flipped your world upside down. Kyungsoo found you, shivering and delirious by a dumpster where your fun little one night stand had left you.
Kyungsoo was human, but he was the type of person that people trusted and allowed into their worlds, no matter who they were. As one of the general surgeons of the local hospital, he’d gotten himself into a position of substantial power over both the humans and the vampires of your city. He never used it as a weapon—only as leverage to keep the humans safe.
When he found you, he’d wrapped you in his jacket and carried you to his apartment, but you didn’t remember anything until many days later. Kyungsoo nursed you to health, providing you with a vampire crash course to prepare you for the rest of your life. Of eternity.
Then he’d introduced you to some of his friends at a party after you were more comfortable, although you had yet to feed on a living human. There was a whole community of humans that got off on it, that lived for the pain and pleasure of letting a vampire feed on them.
It was at this party that you met Baekhyun. He had a mischievous glint in his eye when Kyungsoo told him your name and left the two of you alone in the dimly lit, smoky club basement. Something about that look in Baekhyun’s eyes told you he knew you’d be his by the end of the night.
The feeling, the taste, the pure ecstasy of finally consuming fresh blood was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, even when you were alive. Your senses were heightened as a vampire as it was, but as soon as his blood hit your tongue, it was like your world exploded into a million colors.
But even though you’d been the monster drinking his blood, Baekhyun remained in control. He laid you out on his bed and pinned your wrists to the mattress with one hand, his other wrist pressed into your mouth as he forced you to feed.
You whimpered and cried out when it was too much, when the overstimulation of his blood and the way he was rocking into you at a brutally rhythmic pace had you seeing stars. He never relented; only fucked you harder as you writhed under him.
After that night, you never wanted anyone else. Baekhyun was the only man you wanted to feed from. With him, you didn’t feel like a monster. You didn’t feel like a thing, like a horror story to tell in the dark.
He made you feel human again.
Tonight, the thirst was too much to handle. It was clouding your mind and keeping you awake as you twisted and turned under the covers. You couldn’t tell if you were craving his blood or craving him, but you were too weak to care.
You hated the thirst. It was like dehydration, tenfold. Your head hurt, your lips were dry no matter how many times you wet them, and all you could think about was warm blood sliding down your throat. It was maddening.
The telltale sound of your apartment’s buzzer had you sitting up in bed, so quickly that it made your head spin, the noise signaling that you had a visitor down at the main entrance to your building.
You scurried off the bed and hurried to the door, nearly running into it as you slid on the hardwood in your socks to let him in. You told yourself the eagerness to see him was only because you were thirsty, certainly nothing more.
As soon as you opened the door, you felt embarrassingly underdressed.
Baekhyun had dyed his hair since you’d last seen him. It was now a silver blonde, perfectly messy and framing his stupidly beautiful features. He’d been out tonight, you realized. The glitter on his cheekbones gave it away.
His hands were stuffed comfortably in the pockets of his leather jacket with a faded graphic tee underneath, and expertly tailored black jeans practically painted onto his lower half.
You tugged the hem of your T-shirt down, even though he’d already had you in positions that you hadn’t even thought were physically possible—vampire or not. For some reason, you still felt bare in front of him in your pajama shorts and oversized tee.
“Hmm,” Baekhyun hummed as he stepped inside, letting the heavy door close behind him. He smelled like smoke and rum. “Look at you. Is someone thirsty?”
You blinked, grateful that you were incapable of blushing. As ravenous and desperate for blood as you were, the way he looked you up and down made you feel small and shy.
“Can I?” you asked, reaching for his wrist, half tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
“Uh-uh.” He stepped back just before your fingers brushed his skin. “You know that’s not how it works, baby. You still need to work for it.”
If you wanted to, you could muster your strength and slam him into the door, dive for his neck and bleed him dry before he even realized what was happening. But you didn’t. You wanted this, you wanted to beg and plead until finally, he rewarded you.
“Baekhyun,” you whispered, then dragged your tongue over the dry, cracking skin of your lips. “I’m so thirsty. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He seemed pleased by this, judging by the way his lips turned into a familiar smirk. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go sit down.”
You followed him to the living room obediently, watching as he made himself comfortable on the couch. He shrugged his jacket off, revealing the expanse of his forearms down to his wrists, covered in bite marks in various stages of healing.
All from you.
If he had chosen to get his fix somewhere else, you wouldn’t have any reason to be envious or hurt. But it filled you with a sense of pride that he didn’t, that you were the only one he allowed to taste him.
You moved to sit next to him, but Baekhyun stopped you. He took your hand, leading you to stand in between his parted legs.
“Knees.”
It took one word for you to drop to the carpet, your bare knees pressing into the old scratchy shag rug you’d had for ages. He kept your fingers in his palm, rubbing his thumb idly over the back of your hand.
“Good girl.” With his other hand, he tucked your hair behind your ear, his wrist brushing against your cheek so that you could hear the pulse beneath his skin.
“Baek…” you began, turning slightly until your nose brushed his skin. “Just a taste. Please.”
Baekhyun lifted your chin with his finger and locked eyes with you. You filled with warmth already, just one look enough to send your mind racing with images of everything you wanted from him. His blood was further down the list than you would have thought.
“Just a taste,” he repeated.
With that, he let go of your hand and turned slightly to reach into the pocket of his discarded jacket. When he pulled out the shiny folded metal, you gulped hungrily.
The pocketknife brandished with a metallic click.
It wasn’t uncommon for humans to carry weapons these days. After all, vampires weren’t the only monsters that roamed the streets after dusk, and not all vampires were quite as friendly with humans as you were.
Your eyes followed Baekhyun’s nimble fingers as he brought the very end of his knife to his middle finger, twisting the point into his fingertip until a spot of blood appeared.
It took every bit of self control that you possessed not to reach out in desperation for his hand and bring it to your mouth. But you knew better—you knew if you broke, Baekhyun would stand up and walk out the door like you were less than nothing to him.
He watched you with interest as he held his finger just out of your reach, eyes dancing with that mischievous stare he had when he teased you. You would despise it if you didn’t know that eventually, he always caved.
Finally, when your mouth had gone dry and you could feel the warm tingle that meant your fangs were about to protrude, Baekhyun brought his index and middle fingers to your mouth.
He slipped them past the parched skin of your lips, your entire world blooming as soon as his middle finger touched the center of your tongue. You moaned, eyes falling shut.
“Look how needy you are,” he remarked after a beat. His voice was strained, though, as if watching your display of bliss was causing him physical pain.
He let you go for a while, maybe half a minute, before he was removing his fingers from your mouth. You couldn’t help but whine, resisting every urge not to grab at his wrist to keep him there.
With the small amount of his blood you’d been able to milk from his finger, you already felt renewed. A surge of energy coursed through you like you’d just been injected with adrenaline.
“What do you say?” Baekhyun asked with a cocked brow.
You swallowed, licking any remnants of his blood from your lips. “Thank you.”
Without a second thought, you reached for Baekhyun’s belt, fingers quickly undoing the metal buckle. Your ears picked up the quickening of his heartbeat from the moment you undid the button of his pants.
It was no surprise that most vampire-human relationships, if not ending in death, ended in sex. Feeding, in your experience, was extremely sensual and instantly created feelings of arousal within both parties. It was almost better than sex, and when the two came together? It was euphoric.
You were pleased to find him half-hard already by the time you got his zipper down, your hand wrapping around the length of him under the fabric of his briefs. Baekhyun inhaled sharply, holding his breath until you had pulled his cock from his underwear.
Only a few seconds passed before you leaned forward, parting your lips to run your tongue along the underside of his member. Your eyes remained open, locked on Baekhyun’s face to gauge his reaction.
He loved it, of course.
With a groan, he tipped his head back, exposing his throat and sending a shockwave to your core. You wanted his throat, his neck, all of that fresh, warm blood pumping beneath his skin. But you wanted to taste it while he was inside of you. It would be worth the wait.
Your eyes fell shut as you took his length into your mouth, deeper and deeper with each stroke until he hit the back of your throat. Unlike men you’d been with when you were human, Baekhyun made no effort to remain quiet. He was loud, and you loved it.
If you had your way, all of your days would be filled with Baekhyun’s voice. His moans, his rough whispers in your ear, his laugh, his hums as he completed mundane tasks like wiping down the counters or tying his shoes. Deep down, you wanted it all.
“Good girl, that’s my girl,” he whispered, reaching forward to lace his fingers in your hair. He curled his hand into a tight fist, a deliciously sharp pain spreading across your scalp.
You whimpered, lips wrapped tight and wet around him. He guided you back and forth for a while with his hand in your hair, muttering soft praises all the while. By the way his hips were twitching towards your face, you knew he was getting lost in the ministrations of your mouth.
Baekhyun soon dropped his hand from your hair, signaling you to pull away, just in time for him to stand up and pull you to your feet.
A squeak of surprise fell from your lips as he lifted you, hooking your legs around his waist in a simple, swift movement.
“Bed,” he said simply.
Baekhyun carried you through your apartment as if it was his own, lips kissing and nipping at your neck as he dodged every obstacle between the two of you and the bedroom. He stopped once, in the hallway, to lean you into wall and roll his hips into your center.
His name came out as a sigh.
Then, finally, he dropped you onto the center of your bed. It was messy from your previous tossing around in the sheets from your thirst, but neither of you cared. Baekhyun reached for the comforter, knotted and piled together under your lower back, and easily tossed it off the bed to leave nothing but the sheets under you.
He stood at the foot of the bed, chest heaving up and down, and ran his fingers through his hair. The look in his eyes had you squirming, ready for him to devour you in every way possible.
“Are you still thirsty, baby?”
Your heart clenched at the pet name, even though he always called you that, loving the way it sounded on his lips. You gulped, nodding as you batted your eyelashes.
“Yes,” you admitted.
“Take off your clothes,” he told you, hands reaching for his jeans, still unbuttoned, to push them down his legs.
It took less than a second for you to obey, clutching the waistband of your shorts and shoving them off of you. You knew he liked when you kept your underwear on, just so he could use it to further torture you by keeping a layer between you.
You slipped your thin T-shirt off, throwing it to the side and laying back into the mattress again. Baekhyun had removed his own shirt, leaving just his briefs from letting you see all of him.
You could marvel at his body for hours—he was slender, but solid. He wasn’t much taller than you, but his shoulders were broad enough to make you feel protected in those rare moments when he held you in his arms.
This time, though, you noticed something new. There was a handful of bruises and scratches marring his body, completely different from the puncture marks that your fangs left when you fed on him. Blinking, you furrowed your eyebrows, fingers reaching out.
“What are-”
“No questions,” Baekhyun cut you off, reaching for your hands before they could reach their destination. His face softened, ever so slightly, when you quickly retreated, curling your hands up near your own chest. “We’re not here to talk, are we, baby?”
Just like that, he made you forget the suspicious marks on his chest, even one slash that looked particularly painful. Almost like he’d been cut by a knife.
Watching the way he licked his lips as his eyes traveled down your body, slowly, so slowly, you were easily steered back to the task at hand. You dropped your hands to the sheets, digging your nails into the fabric as he overwhelmed each of your senses.
Even from here, you could smell his blood. From here, you could hear the steady, strong beat of his heart, taste the alcohol and nicotine of his kiss. Your body was calling out to him and you weren’t sure how much longer you could deny what it needed.
“Baekhyun,” you found yourself whining, hips squirming under his hungry gaze.
His eyes snapped up to your face then, so much desire and pure lust in his stare that you felt a brand new surge of heat travel through your limbs.
“Mm, first…” he pressed one knee down into the mattress, then the other, until he was hovering over you. “We have to see if you’re ready for me, don’t we?”
Baekhyun led a painfully light touch down the middle of your chest with his index and middle fingers, between your bare breasts, and down the valley of your stomach at a pace that had you biting your tongue just to keep from begging him for the nth time. It would only further encourage him to play with you, of which you could only tolerate so much.
You knew his moves by now, knew that he would trail those fingers down to your waist, over the elastic of your panties until he found the evidence of your arousal between your legs. You knew his moves, and he still had you whimpering the moment his fingers brushed your clit through your panties.
Your toes curled into the sheets as you tried desperately not to show how crazy he was making you. He knew already, though, the moment he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and found wetness between your legs.
“Oh,” Baekhyun said with a smirk, tongue running cheekily along his lower lip. “You’re dripping, Y/N. You’re this wet just from sucking me off?”
Again, you were grateful for your inability to blush.
“Answer me,” he demanded suddenly, eyes turning dark just the way you liked them.
“Yes!” you replied, hips canting up towards Baekhyun’s hand. “Yes, I’m this wet just from sucking you off.”
Even after you closed your eyes, you were sure you could see the cocky smirk that was undoubtedly painted upon his lips. He lived for this, the feeling of absolutely owning you. You, an immortal, bloodthirsty, powerful woman despite how weak he made you.
As his fingers delved lower, just until he could dip them into your entrance, you mewled and turned your cheek towards the pillow. “Please,” you breathed.
Baekhyun’s lips brushed your neck. “Please, what?”
“Want you… want-“ you sighed as his fingers pushed deeper, to his second knuckle. “Want you inside.”
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t surprise you when he finally gave in, but you couldn’t complain. Though he didn’t concede without a few deep pumps of his fingers, enough to have you gasping and close to ripping the sheets apart beneath you.
Baekhyun slipped his fingers from you and stood from the bed, his hands pushing down his briefs without hesitation. He nodded at you once, motioning with his chin to the headboard behind you.
“On your knees, and face the headboard.”
Renewed with your need to feel Baekhyun inside of you, you easily flipped over onto all fours, that warm sensation in your gums warning you that your fangs would extend at any moment. You didn’t fight it, hoping that it wouldn’t be much longer until you would need them.
“Fuck,” Baekhyun exhaled, just before you felt the bed shift with his weight as he moved behind you. “You’re beautiful, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing you like this.”
You’re beautiful.
The words echoed in your mind, though you knew they probably shouldn’t. He rarely complimented you so boldly, especially before he was inside of you, overwhelmed with pleasure and pain. Curling your hands into fists, you shoved your feelings down because you needed to. A survival instinct, really.
Because if you fell for him, if you opened your heart, the odds were against you. You weren’t sure why he chose you, why you were the only one he allowed to feed from him, but you couldn’t let yourself see it as any more than a mutual transaction of pleasure.
Baekhyun snapped you out of your thoughts easily the moment he pressed up against you from behind, his hands molding down your sides until he could place them upon your hips.
You hung your head between your shoulders, reaching your hands out to grip the wooden slats of your headboard. The anticipation was always the best, and worst, part of this.
It almost scared you how well Baekhyun knew your body. He knew when he trailed his fingertips down between your shoulder blades that you’d shiver and bite your lip, using every ounce of willpower that you possessed not to beg him. Even though you were pretty sure that’s what he wanted.
He knew when he leaned forward and kissed your shoulder, that you’d ultimately lose the battle with yourself and your dignity. You were hot, sweaty, and desperate. Desperate enough to give in and sob his name, squeezing your headboard so hard that you felt the wood splinter beneath your hands.
Without another word, his lips still pressed to your skin, you finally felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance. You held your breath, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t drag it out any longer.
Your wish was granted as he filled you in one long stroke, both of you releasing satisfied moans at the sensation. This... this was bliss.
“How are you-” Baekhyun ground out through his teeth and squeezed your hips hard enough you’d probably bruise, if you could, “-always this tight? God.”
His lips trailed across from one shoulder blade to the other, giving your body a moment to adjust to the girth of him, before he began to move. Just like every other time, he pulled sighs and moans from you that only his ears had ever had the privilege of hearing.
“Oh, my god,” you breathed, your walls clenching around him each time he filled you, his pace making your head spin.
“How’s it feel, baby?” Baekhyun asked, voice low next to your ear.
It took a few more thrusts for you to be able to catch your breath to answer him, your head spinning from the way he was fucking you. It didn’t matter how many times you had him, he always made you like this. Crazy, hungry, and weak.
“Good, so… so good.”
“That’s right,” Baekhyun answered, one hand drifting from your hip down between your legs to find your clit. “You’re taking me so well. Think you might get to feed a little earlier than normal tonight, baby.”
You clenched around him once more at his words. Recently, Baekhyun had started making you wait longer and longer to taste him. The last time, you’d been teetering right on the edge of your second orgasm when he finally bared his neck to you.
It wasn’t the worst thing in the world--no, that moment when his blood hit your tongue had sent you towards the most electric, trembling climax you’d ever had. But you had to admit your mouth was watering already at the thought of sinking your teeth into his skin sooner rather than later.
“Please,” you begged, pushing your ass back towards him. “Please, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun rolled his fingers around your clit in circular motions, grunting as he thrusted hard, jolting you forward. You gasped and moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy.
“You want that, huh? You want me to fuck you while you drink from me?” He matched each stroke of his cock inside of you with the pace of his fingers, drawing tight circles between your legs.
“Yes,” you answered, voice cracking. You didn’t just want it, you needed it. Your fangs were showing now, and you weren’t even sure at what point they’d finally protruded from your gums, a biological response to the thought that you would be needing them soon.
Your world spun, briefly, as Baekhyun grabbed your hips and flipped you from your knees onto your back. It was quick, a move he’d pulled on you so many times you barely even noticed until he was pushing back inside of you.
“Oh, look at you,” he said from above you.
Now that you could see him, you could appreciate his rosy cheeks, the way his hair stuck to his temples, and the subtle way his shoulder muscles contracted each time he moved inside you. Holding himself up with one arm, he trailed his free hand down the side of your face and brushed his thumb over your lip.
“You’re ready to feed, aren’t you, baby? So fucking needy. You think you deserve it?” The pad of his thumb slipped inside of your mouth, daring to trace over the shape of one of your fangs.
All you could do was nod, the ability to actually speak coherent words completely lost on you at the moment.
You waited, as patiently as you could while he was driving you insane, for Baekhyun to make the first move. You never reached for his arm first, never lunged for his neck or his shoulder, simply because you wanted him to have that control.
Baekhyun leaned down, his lips trailing kisses from your chin up to your jaw, until he nipped at your earlobe. “Go ahead, pretty. Take what you want.”
The next time he filled you completely with his cock, you finally sunk your teeth into Baekhyun’s neck, that same spot that you had claimed as your own already. You whimpered as his blood filled your mouth, sliding down your throat.
You reveled in the way he tasted and the sinful way he inhaled sharply at the initial bite before he let out a long, blissful moan. Your body was on fire now, so consumed in Baekhyun and the way he felt buried this deep inside of your heat. It was like you were invincible.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him into you easily. It was different when you fed from him like this. You had to be careful, control yourself so that you didn’t hurt him too badly, but it tasted so damn good.
Before you could get carried away, you forced yourself to pull back, licking any remnants of his blood from your lips. Even though you were no longer feeding, you felt the effects of his blood rushing through your body already.
It was electric and overwhelming in the best possible way, heightened even more so by the way Baekhyun fit inside of you and stretched you so perfectly. The entire room had brightened around you as if somebody had switched on a light.
When you were finally able to focus on the man above you, you were pleased to find that he looked just as fucked out as you felt. His arms shook, for a moment, maybe from the quick loss of blood or just the sheer pleasure of it all.
Taken by a moment of bravery, you used your legs hooked around his hips to roll your bodies over so that you could settle on top of him and let him rest for a moment. His wound would heal quickly—something to do with the healing properties of your saliva, according to Kyungsoo—but you knew he’d need a beat to regain his strength.
The moment he filled you completely, you took in a shuddering breath and planted your hands on his chest. Baekhyun stared up at you, eyes filled with awe, lips parted as if he wanted to say something but just couldn’t find the words.
“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, licking your lips once again. “I want to make you - make you feel good,” you admitted.
Baekhyun’s hands found your thighs, pale and smooth, and dug his fingertips into your skin. Slowly, those fingertips trailed up to your hips to pull you closer, forcing you into a rocking motion atop of him.
“Go on, then,” he breathed. “Make me feel good.”
It occurred to you then that you’d been in this position with him only once before, and it only lasted a couple of minutes before he flipped you onto your back and took over control. This time, though, you wanted to take it until the end. You wanted him to see just a shred of the power you could have over him.
Maybe you didn’t realize it until now, but you knew Baekhyun’s body just as well as he knew yours.
You knew when you rolled your hips just right, he’d groan and his eyes would flutter closed as he fought not to thrust himself further inside of you. You knew his hands would start to roam, squeezing and groping at the smooth flesh of your hips and stomach.
Not until Baekhyun had you learned to appreciate a man’s hands on you without feeling self conscious or try to cover up. Maybe because Baekhyun owed you nothing, there was no reason for him to lie to you or tell you what you wanted to hear. With his hands and his lips, he painted his honest truth on your body without saying a word.
You started to lose yourself more and more with each roll, each circular grind of your hips on top of him, letting your needy moans fill the room along with his.
“Just like that,” Baekhyun praised, both hands holding firmly onto your waist. “Tell me, who makes you feel this good?”
You pressed your hands more firmly into his stomach and opened your eyes, only a little surprised to find him staring up at you again as if he was trying to drink in every inch of your body.
Just when you were about to answer, Baekhyun bucked his hips up, pushing himself deeper inside of you—deep enough to make you shiver and lose any and all words that could have gone through your mind.
“I-” you started, fighting the urge to close your eyes. With the way he was looking at you, you knew that Baekhyun wanted your eyes on him. “Y-you,” you could only whisper.
“I said,” he said, through his teeth, surprising you as he sat up underneath of you so that your chests were flush together. “Who makes you feel like this?”
“You, you, you,” you cried, feeling the familiar heat building in your belly and spreading down towards your thighs. “Baekhyun, oh, fuck…”
“Mmm,” Baekhyun hummed, pleased, pulling you even closer to him. “Such a good girl. You know exactly who you belong to, don’t you? No one else can ever have you like this.”
Even as far gone as you were, something about his words made you shiver, mind racing with all the ways he could mean those words. You’d accepted that you wanted more from him, more than a late night fuck and feed, but what if he felt the same way?
“No one.”
Baekhyun pressed the words onto your lips. You clawed at his shoulders, not caring if you marked him, if you left scratches to match the mysterious half-healed slashes across his torso. You wanted him to belong to you, too, if only in one way.
The kiss sent you closer to your high as your thoughts got the best of you, imagining what your life might be like if you could belong to each other.
Maybe you could wake up next to him someday, help him with breakfast by frying the bacon while he mixed pancake batter. Or you could fall asleep curled up into his side, hand pressed to his chest, counting his heartbeats.
“Close,” you whispered. “I’m so close.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.” Baekyun pulled back first from the kiss, one hand in your hair and the other helping you keep your pace, gripped possessively around your hip.
When you finally tumbled over the edge, you could only speak incoherent mumbles and whispers of pleasure into the crook of his neck as your body bowed forward into him.
Fireworks exploded behind your vision with your climax, a feeling you should have been used to by now, but you still found yourself practically blacking out every time. It was stronger, more powerful since you became a vampire. Like every cell of your body was exploding and putting itself back together again.
“I got you, pretty, I’m here,” you heard Baekhyun whisper as he thrust into you from below, fucking you through the intense waves of your orgasm.
The feeling returned to your fingertips what felt like an hour later, even though it was probably only a minute or two, and you found yourself able to open your eyes. You blinked a few times to let your eyes refocus, taking in the sight of Baekhyun so close to you, so close to his peak.
“Baekhyun, I can’t-” you gasped, willing your trembling thighs to move so you could resume your movements on top of him. It was no use—you just didn’t have the strength.
Baekhyun moved quickly, easily flipping your positions so that he was above you once more. He remained on his knees, grabbing one of your pillows to shove under your lower back. From this angle, he could wrap your legs around his waist and grind into you at the perfect angle.
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hands scrambling to clutch the sheets underneath of you. All you could do was watch him, devour him with your eyes the same way you had devoured him with your mouth.
From the moment you met him, you’d thought he was beautiful. It always struck you as unfair that he appeared to be without flaws, as if you had dreamed him up. He just simply couldn’t be real. And if he was real, it was a miracle he wanted anything to do with you.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Baekhyun said through gritted teeth. He was losing control, moving closer and closer to the edge with each deep thrust.
Your fingers squeezed and tugged at the sheets beneath your hands, the only thing you had the physical strength left to do. “Please,” you whined. “I wanna feel you come inside me.”
It didn’t take much longer, only a few more perfect rolls of his hips before he came with a loud, shuddering groan. You felt him spill inside of you, liquid heat that felt like it was never ending. This was your favorite part. It was the closest you could ever feel to him, surrounded in every way.
Once he had come down, Baekhyun fell forward on top of you, catching himself on his forearms. He breathed deep and heavy, face buried between your neck and your shoulder. You found yourself stroking his back, tracing words into his skin that you couldn’t say out loud.
When he finally rolled off of you, he didn’t go far, just flopped onto his side next to you. Your breath caught in your throat when he pulled you closer, one arm around your back and the other grazing your shoulder.
Outside the window, you heard the morning birds begin their chirping. It was easier to focus on their melody than just how close Baekhyun was. Close enough to hear his pulse, quick and strong.
“You okay?” he asked, nose nudging your jaw. “You get enough?”
You swallowed, suddenly remembering the whole reason Baekhyun had come over in the first place. Because you both had an itch that needed to be scratched—nothing more.
“Yeah,” you replied weakly. “I got enough.”
But he didn’t move, just let his lips rest softly against your neck. It had never been like this before. Soft, quiet, sweet.
“Why do you only let me feed from you?” you found yourself asking, hand on his chest gently pushing him back. “Why me?”
Baekhyun’s eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sighed, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face. “All your feeding marks are from me. I’m the only one, right?”
Leaning up onto his elbows, Baekhyun could only shrug as if you’d asked him if he liked sugar in his coffee. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you,” Baekhyun offered. As if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
You blinked. Had you heard him wrong? Did he mean it… like that?
“You like me,” you repeated.
Baekhyun had the nerve to laugh, just a light, airy chuckle. “That’s what I said. Why am I the only one you feed from?”
Gulping, you tore your eyes away from him and shook your head. You wanted to deny it—but you both knew it was true. You’d never told him as much, but you wouldn’t be so desperate for him if you could easily get it somewhere else. Correction: you could have, you just didn’t want to.
“Because I like you.”
When you looked back at Baekhyun, he was grinning, the light catching on the glitter still smeared across his cheeks. He pushed himself to sit up, reaching for your hands. He tugged you closer to him.
“Yeah? You sure you don’t just like my delicious, mouthwatering blood?”
You scoffed and shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “It’s not that delicious.”
Baekhyun laughed again, and this time you had to join him. It felt like it was too good to be true, him wanting you the way you wanted him. You wanted to pinch yourself, just to make sure you hadn’t blacked out and imagined this whole conversation.
“Since that’s settled,” Baekhyun said, fingers grazing up your arm, your throat, until he was lifting your chin. You saw his affection for you in his eyes, so obvious it made you wonder if you’d been missing it all along.
When his lips touched yours, it was a kiss unlike any other you’d shared with him before. Deep and slow, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed into his mouth, letting his lips quiet every worry you had racing through your brain.
“Stay the night,” you said softly once you parted from him.
Baekhyun smirked, pressing his forehead into yours. “It’s already morning.”
You glanced at the window, noting the soft glow of the sunrise behind your curtains. “Oh. Never-”
“I’m kidding,” he cut you off, stroking his fingertips across your cheek. “Only if you promise to cook breakfast for me when we wake up. You do eat, right?”
“Yes,” you said with a laugh. “I eat. I don’t need to, but I love food too much not to.”
“That’s my girl,” he replied in a low tone, giving you goosebumps.
In order to keep yourself from jumping his bones, you pulled from him and climbed off the bed, searching for the comforter Baekhyun had thrown off the mattress when you’d first laid down. Once you found it, you settled on top of the sheets with him, pulling the blanket over top of your bodies.
Your memories from before you turned were a blur. Some things you could remember, but it was like they’d happened to somebody else. You knew you’d had a series of unsatisfying one night stands, a couple of boyfriends, and a handful of crushes. You remembered the face of the man who turned you, but not his name or how it happened. A blessing, Kyungsoo told you.
And although you couldn’t remember the faces of any of your past lovers, you knew without a doubt in your mind that you would never forget Baekhyun.
You realized as he brought you into his arms that he didn’t just make you feel human, he made you feel like the girl you’d been before.
#byun baekhyun#exo smut#baekhyun smut#exo imagine#baekhyun imagine#baekhyun fic#exo fic#exo fanfic#writing
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18 Months - F.W.
18 Months- Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (unspecified house)
Warnings: mentions of death, murder, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, mild language, etc. If any of that could be upsetting, please don’t read.
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: my first Fred fic, and also my first my first angsty fic! Please feel free to leave feedback, as always.
Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, Y/L/N is Your Last Name, and flashbacks are in italics.
----
18 months. 18 months trapped in the worst pits of hell known to the Wizarding World. The heart-shattering weeps of depression rang through the never-ending constrictive barricades of Azkaban like an everlasting ring in your ears.
Every day spent in the hellhole, the more you lusted for death. You forcefully shoved globs of tasteless mush down your throat every morning, before continuing your search for anything to gift you the sweet release of death, all the way until your limbs could crawl no longer. You were shackled to life; decomposed to nothing but a tortured shell of your former self.
18 months. 18 months of your will to live repeatedly ripped from your dying body, for a crime you didn’t commit.
Ernest Macmillian was found dead in his home, impaled through the heart with your ornate and alluring ancestral family dagger. Your fingerprints dotted the handle. Your knife was secretly concealed from all in your dormitory chest. No one would’ve known its location but you. Who else could’ve done it?
Who else could have murdered poor Ernie? She was the only one with access to the weapon! I saw her bicker with Ernie once in fifth year. It must have been her! It’s always the ones you never expect.
18 months. 18 months and you were finally free.
“Y/L/N, Y/N. Get up,” spat the gaggle of brutish guards, hoisting your skeletal arms up from the floor where they lay. Your limp body was dragged across the stoney floors, your bloodied knees searing with pain. Pain that no longer phased you. Pain that brought you one more step to the kiss of eternal sleep.
You were hoisted onto a pitch-black broom, which perfectly matched the colors that haunted your routine nightmares. You held a loose grip onto the guard, not afraid to fall into the merciless ocean peppered with sharp, spiky rocks below.
In what felt like a hazy grey blur, you found yourself seated in the middle of a room inside a dehumanizing cage, an array of withering, unsparing wizards revoltingly looking down at your unkempt self from every angle. In one concise movement of their wrinkled jaws, they croaked the two words that would damn you forever: “you’re free”.
You heaved the flimsy cardboard box filled with your meager belongings onto the rotting floorboards of your run-down flat, an unwavering look of death etched into your face. Despite being back into normal society for the past two weeks, your eyes were still hollowed and dark, your skin clinging to your bones like canvas stretched onto a frame.
You were utterly alone. Everyone who used to care for you now pretended you had never existed, your name reduced to an echoing rumor. Nobody would ever love you again, and you were sure that even if someone did, you would never be able to reciprocate it. Your beaten heart had been reduced to a pulp, the most it could feel was the steel club of depression striking it again and again and again.
Once your box of personals found a spot to rest, your body promptly crumpled to the floor, your soul begging to escape your physical shell once again. You should’ve gotten up. You should’ve dispersed your belongings around your flat. Maybe it would ease the pain. But instead, you remained on the floor, your organs feeling melty and gutted.
Your mind desperately tried to pull your dreams towards your happy memories, ones that were hidden somewhere in the maze-like catacombs of your mind. They must be here somewhere, right? But with every filing cabinet drawer that you desperately tore from its slot with a sob, the more damage you inflicted. The happy memories must be here somewhere.
But they were never found.
You were startled awake by a jovial and familiar knock on the door that you couldn’t quite place. The rapping swam through the apartment as you slowly emerged from your defensive fetal-position on the floor. You wiped the stream of drool from your chin, trudging to the door with heavy and haphazard steps.
You peered through the glass peephole of the dark wooden door, your tear-stained and crusty eyes darting around suspiciously.
You immediately recognized the face standing outside your door, their eyes watching the handle expectantly; the face of someone who your twisted mind had reduced to a mere fantasy: Fred Weasley.
“Freddie! How could you do that! You’re going to get expelled! My own boyfriend won’t be at school to see me anymore! How sad would that be? How embarrassing?” you screeched, your words fueled by a wave of ever-growing anger.
Your face was damp with tears of rage and sadness; your eyes were flaming and undaunting. Fred looked at you in horror, before his face rapidly switched to one of an equally-matching temper.
“Don’t be worried about me all the goddamn time! Get off my back once in a while, you overbearing boar! You know damn well I’m not leaving this school, and I’m sure as hell not leaving you!”
“Just stay away from me, you joke of a partner!” you yelled, before stomping away from Fred in a furious huff. Tears poured down your face like boiling water, and you hastily dashed to the nearest bathroom for cover.
“Fred…?” you uttered with surprise, as you slowly swung your worn flat door open. Fred swallowed his feelings of shock with a gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat. You looked so different than how you had at Hogwarts just 18 months ago: the magnificent brightness was drained from your eyes, replaced with depressing black sludge. Your body looked one papercut away from tearing, and your lips were crusty and coarse. You looked like a living corpse.
“Y/N…?” he asked shakily, his voice lacking confidence for the first time in his life. He hadn’t expected you to return back in such a mangled condition. Sure, he’d heard of the horrors of Azkaban, just as any wizard had, but you were living proof of its sheer brutality.
“What do you want?” you asked with a growl. You hadn’t intended for your words to be so venomous, but all your negative memories with Fred droned in your brain, demons whispering warnings in your ears.
“Well… I just, uh, came to see you, y’know, since you were gone for so long. I missed you,” he stated awkwardly, slowly stepping into the dilapidated apartment. His eyes glanced at the barren, peeling walls, a concerned furrow of his brows following.
“It looks quite, er, home-y in here. I take it you’ve just moved in?” he asked, taking a look in your box of belongings.
The box was barren and sad; all that resided in it was a trophy from second year, a dusty framed photo of your family on a trip, and a small red teddy bear from somewhere you couldn’t place.
Fred reached for the dusty teddy in the box, a small smile quirking on his lips. “You remember who gave this to you?” he questioned with an anticipating smile. You replied with an unbothered and somber shake of your head.
“It was me! You’re telling me you don’t remember that Valentine’s day? It was one of our favorite times together… when you spilled the...” Fred trailed off, the smile on his face dissipating after seeing your blank but tormented expression remain.
Awkward tension filled the air, but the depressing voices screaming in your mind made it impossible to register. Fred stood there motionless, looking despairingly at your disheveled self, tears threatening to prick at his eyes.
He continued to question you, “What all do you remember then? I know the dementors aren’t known for their good hospitality.” His attempts at lightening the mood were met only with your glassy, sunken eyes.
“Y/N, I’m sorry I have a life of my own! I’m sorry I can't do everything for you all the time. I try my best, you know that! I’ll try harder, sure, but I can’t be here every minute of every day. You have to understand that, or else this isn’t going to work. It’ll never work,” Fred said, his voice morphing from an apologetic roar to a morose and regretful whisper.
You couldn’t be mad at Fred. He was right. You can’t be with him all the time, no matter how much you wanted him. Maybe he didn’t even want you. Maybe he never did.
“It’ll never work.”
“I can’t remember much, Fred. Besides all the… bad stuff,” you stated with a crack, your shattered soul lurching inside your body violently.
“What bad stuff, darling?” he asked, placing a concerned but compassionate hand on your shoulder. You instantly recoiled from his touch, darting towards the nearest corner with nervous whimpers.
You shakily stood, back to the intersecting walls, palms flat against them with fear. It was a horrific sight to Fred: the intense fear painting your face at the touch of him. It was worse than he could have ever imagined. He’d never have the real you back, would he?
You slowly backed off the corner at the sight of a non-threatening and shattered Fred, stating with a cry, “I can’t remember anything we used to have, or be. None of the good stuff I’m sure we did.”
“All that rings through my mind is our fights, your harsh words, my heartbroken sobs. That’s all I can remember, Freddie. That’s all that’s left. It’s all gone, I can’t find it.”
Sobs flooded the apartment as you collapsed to the floor; your legs unwilling to carry your ill mind any longer. Fred watched you crumble, silent tears staining his freckled face.
Your hands worked as wipers, smearing the burning-hot tears that poured from your eyes onto your sleeves. Fred stood in front of you, frozen in shock, a tsunami of grief panging his heart repeatedly.
“It’s all gone, huh?” he croaked, his voice pained and mournful. You responded with a regretful nod, tucking your shaky legs to your chest.
He gradually inched closer to you, his mind begging his legs to move. Finally, when he stood right in front of you, he extended one of his lanky arms in your direction. His tear sprinkled palm reached out to you like a lifeline; you brought your unsteady and equally tear-stained hand to meet his’.
He unraveled your numb legs as he pulled you up from the floor. Your body felt as thin and light as paper, your heart a heavy burden in your chest. Your legs wobbled as if they were flimsy toothpicks supporting a brick. Fred held your waist to support you, liquified sadness still flowing from his eyes.
His other hand gently cupped your sickly sharp jawline, forcing your blurry, dark eyes to look at his’.
“Oh, Y/N, it’ll be okay. I promise.” Fred wrapped his arms around you into a hug. His embrace felt warm, a previously foreign feeling. An indescribable emotion struck your heart, but this time, it didn’t drive you deeper into insanity. It didn’t make you want to pull out every strand of hair on your head or dig your razor-sharp nails into your palms. It made you feel something foreign.
“Oh Freddie,” you sobbed, laying your face in the crook of his neck. Your crying changed, fueled by different emotions than you ever had before. Bad memories still rang through your head, but the more time you spent in Fred’s arms, the harder it was to see them.
“If you can’t remember all the fun memories we had together in the past, then I guess we’ll just have to make a million more.”
#fred weasley#fred and george#fred and goerge weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred and george weasley#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley and george weasley#fred weasley angst#fred angst#the weasley twins#fred weasley blurb#fred weasley drabble#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fic#fred weasley headcanons#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley one shot#weasley wizard wheezes#weasley twins#the weasleys#hp fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter angst#hp
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Dr. Hofnarr’s Horrible, No-Good, Very Weird 15 Years Of Being Dead.
a tribute to fanon interpretations/character study(?) that was going to be a bonus chapter in a post-canon/au comedy fic im working on! might come back to expand on this when i do start posting it (or if mpn gives him more background story lore that i’ll have to work with aoAHGHOAUGH)
happy madness day! :o)
“Where should I begin… Perhaps at the very beginning? OH! Christoff and I first met years before our Nexus days! Back in our freshman years of college, to be precise! You know, I was actually a theater major before switching to- ... A-Aah, too far back. Much too far... Let’s start from the point where the notes I supplied to you ended then, shall we? After our dissension...”
.. “Good luck, old friend...” ..
The first years on the run from Nexus was stressful to say the least. Hofnarr and Christoff had split up to better their chances of survival. He knew the process would be grueling, having talked to Christoff almost every night about it to calm his nerves. While he played calm for the cameras, Hofnarr truly wished he could have held him close one last time. No communications. No physical contact. Day after day, month after month, nothing. He would be separated from his husband for a very long time…
It wasn’t all bad after a while. He had a comfortable new apartment, went under a new alias, and his questionable new job paid him enough to buy food. His apartment even had cable! He could watch marathons of Slaughter Time whenever he got home! In hindsight, he wondered if that had an effect on his mental state at the time...
Hofnarr had taken the last of his S3LF regulator with him, having shipped them out to an undisclosed location prior to dissension. Dissonance exposure did a number on him and his research team, leaving them to track their “normality” through daily blood tests and injections. While they met their fates early on, Hofnarr had gotten lucky. That is, until the doses began to run out.
Stressful as it was, he knew what he had to do. Hofnarr rushed back to what remained of the labs, knowing it had been abandoned by now. It was ironic, he and Christoff’s work, the work that was turned against them, was the one thing keeping him alive. For days, he worked to make more doses from the materials he brought with him. But there was only so much he could do with limited supplies… Hofnarr made many attempts to prolong the inevitable, lowering his dosage amount, injecting it weekly rather than daily, but he eventually ran dry.
Refusing to turn to darker alternatives, he felt the only thing he could do at this point is record his final findings through video logs.
“It was… interesting revisiting the footage, to put it nicely. Christoff had actually kept the video files on a drive after he originally found all my things in the lab! I barely remembered what happened back then, so I rewatched them out of curiosity.”
On the first night, Hofnarr recorded a message for Christoff. One filled with sorrow, but also with gratitude. For the time that they spent together. How special he made him feel. All the memories they made together...
On the next, he recorded a log detailing his findings during Project Nexus. The effects of dissonance, the Other Place, what it did to him and his colleagues, everything and anything he could.
The next, he reported on the progression of his symptoms. Fever, brain fog, insomnia, joint pain. He felt like his organs were melting, his skin bursting at the seams.
The next night he saw something and remembered. Scars. The scars on his head. That week he was in the staff hospital. He thought it was a dream but the scars were there. Phobos. Director Phobos brought him somewhere that week. He knew he felt off when he woke up in the office that night. He knew something was off when Christoff asked him where he was. He thought he passed out from over-working. That bastard Phobos. Nausea was replaced with rage as he began to scream, his throat becoming raw. What did he put in him? What the hell did he put inside him!?
On the last recorded log, he was face-down on the ground. Groaning as his body occasionally convulsed. Until the video feed eventually cut off.
His body would lay there dormant, dead, for fifteen years.
But to Hofnarr, he felt like he was dreaming.
.. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR OUR NEXT CONTESTANT!” ..
“Huh?” The doctor sat up and looked around, the area around him pitch black. Wasn’t he sleeping just a moment ago? He got up and took a step forward in the seemingly endless void. “H-Hello? Who’s out there?”
“AWW, DON’T BE SHY NOW! ESTEEMED AUDIENCE, A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR GUEST; THE UNFORTUNATE DOCTOR HOFNARR!”
A light shined down on him from above. A crowd seemingly began to cheer all around him. He was in the center of what looked like a talk show set. Hofnarr awkwardly scratched the corner of his face. “‘Unfortunate’? W-What do you mean? W-Who are you?”
“FIGHT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER!” The voice above him called out again. “AFTER ALL, IT’S…!” Hofnarr drowned out the noise while trying to think. It sounded familiar. Like it came from…
Hofnarr’s thoughts were cut short. He looked down at his torso. Terror set in as he recognized an entire stop sign had been lodged through his chest.
“DON’T GET COLD FEET NOW! THE SHOW’S ONLY JUST BEGUN!”
The words echoed in Hofnarr’s mind as he frantically tried to pull it out, his vision growing muddled, his hands slipping with blood until…
He blinked.
No stage. No sound. No pain.
Nothing around except for a single white door in front of him.
He stood up again, cautiously reaching for the doorknob.
When he entered he seemed to be in a vintage styled home. It was a kitchen with checkerboard flooring, a table with two chairs, and cheerful music playing through a small radio. It smelled of pastry and medical equipment. Suddenly, there was a knock coming from the door. A familiar voice called from behind it.
“I’m home, dear.”
“J-Jeb?!”
Hofnarr rushed towards the front door. Christoff wasn’t trapped here too, was he? “Jeb! W-where are we!? What is this place? What happened to-”
As he opened the door, the clapping returned.
His husband was there, briefcase in hand, his face replaced with a black hole dripping with an unknown inky substance.
He slowly began to back away as “Jeb” moved closer.
The applause, the laughter, was deafening.
Before he could question or run away, Hofnarr was hit by something. His vision blurred, but refocused to be face-to-face with something. It seemed to be a shadow of himself. He tried to run again, but was pinned down by his doppelganger. The clone raised a clawed hand above him and then...
Like waking from a nightmare, Hofnarr quickly sat up once again. He gasped for air, dripping with cold sweat.
Was this really happening? Was it finally over? Was he free?
And then the spotlight focused on him again.
“It… got very surreal. Despite fight after fight, death after painful death... I would suddenly be somewhere else! There was a gameshow, our old apartment, a cat cafe, a... strip club of sorts, a tea room filled with these small armless doodles I used to draw on my research notes trying to offer me snacks… One time there was a sort of singing contest, but I won’t bore you with the details of that one. But when I wasn’t in those places, I felt like I was fighting for my life. It felt like an eternity! And the strangest part of it all? It… it became addicting.”
At first, he felt as if Hofnarr used all of his energy, physical and emotional, to fight back. It reminded him too much of his escape from Nexus. But as time went on, he focused less on escaping and more on surviving. The more he fought, the more he began to lose himself. He was anticipating what sudden whiplash of combat would be thrown at him next. He chuckled at the thought of what excitement would be heading his way. He wanted more. The fights became too slow. Too predictable. Too boring. He began toying with whatever was thrown at him. Turning his shadowy hunters into the hunted. Why let his audience watch the same old fights all the time?
Suddenly, the fighting stopped.
Why?
He was having fun, wasn’t he? He grew impatient.
“WHAT’S THE HOLD UP!” He yelled into the void, seething with anger. “AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO BE FIGHTING? ISN’T THAT WHAT I’M HERE FOR?!”
He stomped his foot down, lodging something out of the ground.
The stop sign.
He looked over it curiously. How familiar…
Grabbing hold of it, quick flashes of memories appeared to him.
Nexus, the Science Tower, Phobos, the Other Place…
A man with long hair standing next to...
Hofnarr…
Who was that? Was that him?
No…
Only Tricky remained.
Footsteps echoed throughout the halls of the abandoned lab. Heels quickly clicking, cautiously stopping every so often. A lone Nexus Core agent entered through one of the doors.
Perfect timing.
“HAY! YOU THERE!!” A voice stuttered and glitched out, reverberating through the emptiness of the lab. The quickly soldier whipped their head around. “YEAH! YOU, STUPID. PLAY WITH ME!!”
“Who’s there?” The agent pointed their magnum towards the noise. “Show yourself!”
Gladly. The cackling figure emerged from the shadows, posing with a peace-sign, causing the agent to recoil. He grinned, slowly moving towards the cowering goon on the ground. They wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Who are you!?”
They couldn’t kill him.
“FIGHT FIRST. ASK QUESTIONS LATER! AFTER ALL…”
CAN’T KILL CLOWN.
“IT’S MURDER TIME!”
..
“My body had been there, regenerating and repeating the enmeshment process for years. And by the time I woke up, I was a completely different person. I became a creature of unfiltered impulse… A personification of chaos itself.”
The room grew silent before Hofnarr spoke up again.
“I-Is it horrible to say it was… kind of cool?” He said with a nervous chuckle, twiddling his fingers.
2BDamned was quiet for a moment. They recalled the many times they had to stitch their comrades back together due to Clown Moments. They placed their head in their palms and let out a sigh.
“... You have the right to your own opinion.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BONUS: songs i was listening to on loop while working on this instead of doing my damned writing assignment. Enjoy
lady gaga ft. dorian electra - replay
vestik - tricky's vengeance ft. monocronic
#madness combat#Madness Project Nexus#Dr. Hofnarr#Tricky the Clown#MY WORKS#MY FIC#happy madness day these old dudes are gay. [Vine Boom] gay as hell. [Vine B
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Mexico
This is my first published work! A Spencer Reid x Reader oneshot. The team travels to Mexico for a mush needed vacation from the bureau. Will profiling skills be enough to keep an agent safe?
The music reached the ears of those outside the club. Loud and drunken shouts accompanied the upbeat club music as the two girls entered.
Prentiss found Morgan as soon as she walked in. Offering her a drink, she downed it in under a minute, no doubt it’d be the first of many for them that night.
Walking to the bar, I ordered a virgin Shirley temple, I had already been drunk that day and had decided long ago to play it safe. I smiled at Emily and Morgan, watching them line up the salt and limes on the table. Drinking the sweet and syrupy drink, I felt a hand slowly creep around the small of my back. Goosebumps lined my arms as I immediately turned around to see who violated my personal space. A sly grin dripping with underlying intentions rested on the face of Rick. His unwelcome attention had been directed towards Prentiss and I all weekend, and his lingering hand was just one of the many attempts. A vacation can only last so long, I guess.
“Hey baby, I didn’t see you at the pool earlier today. Where were you?” A smile protruded, slowly creeping up his face as he took me in.
“I didn’t feel so well, I had a few too many drinks,” I laughed uncomfortably hoping he would sense my tone and leave. Emily looked up from a shot and raised an eyebrow.
“Well, here’s another one, maybe this will loosen you up a bit, huh?”
His breath reeked of Fireball and was hot on my face. I backed against the seat of my chair as I gave Emily a reassuring nod while she walked with Morgan to dance.
“No thanks, I’ve gotta find my friend.”
I slid out of my barstool and made my way through the crowd to meet Prentiss on the dancefloor.
The lights and the music overwhelmed my senses, but I absorbed it all. This was the only time I would get to be in Mexico and I wasn’t going to waste it. The unit had been overwhelmed with cases the past few months and this two-week vacation couldn’t have come at a better time. With the Reaper going MIA, the bureau thought it best to take some time away from the case.
I instinctively looked around and saw Spencer at the bar. I froze and couldn’t help but admire
the way in which he held himself- slight hesitancy behind the charming demeanor he bore. His easy eyes and soft smile could make any girl speechless and giddy.
He turned just in time to see me staring, lifting his hand to wave. I caught myself smiling and forced myself to wave back before I did anything stupid. I threw myself back into the rhythm laughing carelessly with Emily.
Time flew by as the music began to blend together in the seamless rhythm of motion. A tap on my shoulder from a bartender told me the boy at the bar sent a Shirley Temple over. I glanced back to see Spencer as he scanned the crowd locking eyes with me. He quickly looked down and turned around. I accepted the drink happily as Emily hit my arm.
“Looks like pretty boy is more upfront than we thought huh?”
We giggled as I kept dancing with my drink in hand.
The room began to melt into a kaleidoscope of color as the music seemed to pound the sides of my skull. I stopped for a moment to clear my head, hoping to shake off whatever vertigo I might have gotten from the ocean that day. Walking over to the bar in hopes of ordering a water, Spencer came over and gently placed his hand right below my shoulder.
“Are you okay? You seem a little woozy”, his eyes flooded with concern, “here, come sit down for a minute okay?”
Leading me to a chair on the outskirts of the dance floor, he sat me down, bracing my shoulders while he crouched down to make eye contact with me. Even though the whole room was spinning, it didn’t take much to keep focus on him.
“I’m gonna get you a water okay?”
“Okay”
I smiled as he walked away but couldn’t shake the feeling that was starting to creep up on me and swallow my consciousness. Everything blurred into shapeless forms while my body felt as though it was made out of bricks and weights.
“Here, come on and we can get you in something more comfortable”
I felt a hand grab my arm and lead me to the exit of the club. Stumbling over my feet, I turned and saw Spencer leaving the bar with a water in hand. Confusion visible on my face as I tried to piece together who the man with such a strong hold on my arm was.
Who is taking me away from the bar? And who is taking me away from Spencer?
I noticed the arm had moved around me and clutched me close to their body, hard and with no room to escape. The abrasive cloth of a jacket met my skin as the metal zipper dug into my side. I looked up at the face, a complexion shrouded by shadows and street lamps.
“Let’s get you somewhere comfy baby”
My head swirled, thinking back to the drink from who I thought was Spence.
Rick never left the bar. I could feel his eyes boring into my back while Emily and I laughed and danced. He was there when I ordered my original Shirley temple and not Spencer. Oh my God, it wasn’t Spencer.
It wasn’t Spencer.
Panic flooded me as I tried to push myself away but found to have little to no strength against him. My hits held no power against his determined frame. I could barely speak without a weird slur obstructing anything I tried to say.
“Please let me go back to my friends”, I whimpered out.
His grip grew tighter as I tried to turn around to get someone, anyone’s attention.
I tried to dig my feet into the ground but wobbled over them instead. He was practically dragging me further and further away from the team, and closer and closer to who knows
what.
Panic and fear overtook my whole body; heavy breathing and frantic looking to find some way to break away from his hold.
“Please, please let me go back to my friends. I can give you money instead if you just let me go back.”
I knew money meant nothing to this man, I knew what his goal was back at the bar. I almost wished my skills as a profiler were that of when I first joined. It’d be better to not know who he was as he tore me away from my friends.
Tears dared to prick my eyes as I imagined what he was going to do to me, my mind filling with the horror stories of girls in clubs and foreign countries that other units in the bureau had dealt with.
I rolled my head to turn back to the bar. My head hung over my shoulder, hair blocking my view of what lay behind me. Figures emerged from the bar, doors slamming open into the warm breeze that drifted through the resort. I could hear them scream my name in panicked and frightful voices.
Were they real? Had I hoped so hard for some kind of miracle that it had somehow manifested behind me?
I tried so hard to break free of his grasp. I squirmed and wiggled with all the strength I had, yet still he held me firm against him. As Rick picked up his stride, my vision blurred to the point of muted colors as I faintly heard running towards Rick and me. My feet dragged behind me and I struggled to stay upright.
“Get off of her!”
I felt myself being pulled into someone’s arms as I fell to the ground. Familiar smells engulfed my senses, immediately providing me with some form of comfort.
“What the hell did you do to her?”
“Why were you dragging her out of the club?”
“Sure looks like you care about this whore-”
The black spots that had dotted my vision finally overtook it as the heavy darkness overwhelmed my body. The last thing I heard was a loud crack and a thud against the pavement.
My eyes fluttered open as bright light burned and blinded my vision. My head throbbed from the sudden sensory overload. Memories flooded back to me as my eyes widened with panic. I tried to sit up but was immediately met with hands pushing me back down. The blinding light obstructed those who held me down, resulting in a view of faceless figures.
“Get off of me!”
I felt my leg connect with what felt like ribs as I scratched my face.
“It’s okay! Please don’t hurt yourself. You’re safe, you’re okay.”
My eyes slowly adjusted to the room as I began to make out the faces of my team. Concern and worry all too apparent on their faces. Tears brimmed my eyes as I began to remember more from last night. Tears threatened to surface as I struggled to keep composure.
“What did he do to me? Oh my god what’d he do to me?”
“You’re okay, we caught him leaving with you before he could do anything to you”
Morgan gave me a smile and put a hand on my shoulder, “you’re going to feel a bit weird for a while, but we got a doctor in here to help you. He put you on an IV and some minor pain meds.”
I looked down as my fingers traced the unnoticed IV going into my arm. I noticed the bruises on my arm in the shape of fingers. The deep red and purple marks brought more tears to my eyes.
“He roofied me, didn’t he?”
“He did but we don’t know how, Hotch and Emily say they only saw you drinking one drink at the bar you ordered and the drink Reid sent over”
Reid turned towards Morgan confused, “I never sent her a drink.”
“But we both saw you-,” Emily retorted.
“No, I thought Spencer had sent me a drink, but I realized Rick did when he was dragging me
out.”
I paused for a moment, “What happened after I blacked out?”
Morgan spoke up saying, “Rossi found him dragging you out and we all ran after you. Reid and Hotch got you away from him while Emily tried to pick you up off the ground.”
I looked into Spencer’s face, the only one I really wanted to see, and thanked God for him. Concern clouded his face but a small hint of relief sparked in his eyes as he gave me a small reassuring smile.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
Emily leaned over me to my ear and whispered. “Reid left Rick with a broken nose and a swollen lip before Morgan had to pull him off.”
The door swung open, everyone’s heads turning to see who barged in with no warning.
“OH MY-what happened to my beautiful treasure?! Who did this to her?”
Garcia ran to the hospital bed, grabbing my cheeks as she inspected my face for any damage.
Plenty of damage here, babe.
Morgan grabbed Garcia’s arms, looking up at everyone.
“Why don’t we give her some time to rest? We’ll be right next door okay?”
Everyone stood up to exit before Spencer spoke up.
“Can we talk for a bit by ourselves?”
Hotch glanced at Morgan with a questioning look, which he met with a nod of approval.
“Sure, but make it quick okay?”
Reid nodded in understanding as he got up to sit on the bed next to me. The water in my hand rocked in waves in the cup as I tried to subside my shaking hands. I put it back down in defeat.
Not meeting Spencer’s eyes, I asked, “Can you hold it for me?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He slowly tipped the water up so I could take a small sip. It stung at first, but the water provided some relief and calm. He put the cup back down and lifted his eyes to meet mine. He might be an FBI agent, but there was nothing subtle about the way he scooted closer to me on the bed.
“How do you feel?”
“Well, a little nauseous and I have a really weird headache. My whole body feels heavy too…is your hand okay?”
He glanced down at his hand which had begun to bruise as well, quickly covering it up.
“My hand’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t keep a better eye on you.”
“No Reid, it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong last night. I promise. Besides, it’s not your job to watch over me.”
I grabbed his hands as I gave a reassuring laugh and gave them a squeeze.
“Why did you think the drink was from me?”
I looked down at my hands, mortified at the natural blush giving away my reasoning from last night.
“When I had looked over to the bar when I got the drink, you looked at me at the exact same time. And I thought that you were trying to flirt.”, I looked up in embarrassment to see his reaction. He met my gaze.
“Well to be honest, that’s not how I’d flirt with you.”
“I’m just glad y’all got me before he did anything. I thought I saw you as we walked out the door but I couldn’t yell to get you. I didn’t know whether I was imagining the help I wanted so badly.”
I cast my eyes down and clutched the sheets with such ferocity my knuckles turned white.
Violent sobs escaped me and my body shook as I tried to control my tears. I never showed this kind of emotion at work, my intensity helped me get through our cases.
I can’t break.
“Hey, don’t cry, okay?”, he shushed me as he crawled closer to me and held me. He rocked me as his hands ran gently through my hair. I buried myself into his chest as far as I could and tightened my fists around his shirt, trying to pull him closer than he already was. I found comfort in his warmth and heartbeat. I drew my legs into my body and tried as hard as I could to wrap myself up into a ball inside of his embrace.
Disappear. Just close it up and disappear like you know how.
Spencer pulled my face away from his tear ridden shirt to meet my eyes.
“I know you’re going to wall yourself away, I’ve seen you do it at work. You can’t shut down on us when you’re the one being hurt. You can’t do that okay? We are here as a team, and we’re leaving as a team. Don’t think for one second we’re going to let you isolate yourself.”
I hiccupped trying to hold back my tears. Spencer placed his hand on my face, using a thumb to wipe away my tears. He rubbed my cheek with his thumb and gave me a comforting smile.
“I’m here okay? I’m right here for you.”
I smiled through my mist of tears and rested my forehead on his. He clutched the hair on the back of my head as he moved to kiss my forehead.
We never had this kind of connection at work. Nothing this…intimate. We silently acknowledged our mutual admiration for each other, but never let it develop past that. We were both young in the bureau, we couldn’t compromise our reputations. But, as we held each other’s stare, I couldn’t help but wonder whether we couldn’t, or wouldn’t.
His eyes flicked briefly down to my lips and back up to my eyes searching for a response. We moved closer to each other, moving both his hands to my face and me balling his shirt in a fist.
The air hung around us in a silent curtain, shielding us from the worries that would be of concern when we left the room. But nothing seemed to matter as I held his intense gaze. Was it a moment of weakness or strength that finally pushed us to meet in the middle?
Our lips met, a connection born from built up tension and desire. As we deepened our kiss, I moved my hand to cup his face, entwining my fingers with his hair. His hand moved to the small of my back, pulling me closer into the heated embrace.
We pulled away, a sharp intake of breath calling us back into reality. But as we both ran through the multitudes of possibilities, I took his hand in mine and squeezed, giving him a small smile.
I can’t worry about what the future might hold when I have him right in front of me.
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close quarters - andre burakovsky
a/n: started this fic based off this prompt I did. burky is like my fav player I love him so much
word count: 2,100
summary: and they were roommates
PLEASE READ THIS PROMPT BEFORE! THIS FIC IS BUILT OFF IT!
part two
-
It only took a few days for you to settle in comfortably. The first couple of days were spent unpacking the few clothes you brought with you and trying to find a routine to slip into. You didn’t want to annoy Andre or step on his toes. He clearly had enough on his plate with hockey and road trips; he didn’t need you making a fuss around the apartment as well.
Well, he said he didn’t mind you hanging around, but you took that as him being a hospitable host rather than him actually meaning it. For the most part, you remained in your room, only coming out to lounge on the couch when you knew he would be gone for a few hours.
The first morning after you moved in, you woke yourself up extra early to make him breakfast as a thank you, though you weren’t quite sure when he’d have to leave for practice. Andre walked in about ten minutes after you finished frying some bacon and were in the middle of flipping the last few pancakes.
“Uh, what’s all this?” Andre asked hesitantly, confused at the large amount of food you’d laid out on the countertop.
“Oh!” you jumped, not hearing him enter the kitchen. You turned around to face him, gesturing towards the counter with your spatula. “I just wanted to make you breakfast to say thank you, you know, for letting me stay and all. I wasn’t really sure what time you woke up, though.”
“You really didn’t have to do this. Seriously, Y/N, thank you,” He said in awe, grabbing a piece of bacon off the plate.
“I also didn’t know how much you ate, so I kind of went a little overboard,” you chuckled awkwardly, now finally noticing just how many pancakes you’ve made.
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll all get eaten, I promise,” he replied, piling four onto a plate. He dug in shortly after, demolishing half the stack before you’d even sat down to join him.
“Is practice usually at this time?” You asked, pouring two glasses of orange juice.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “Typically, it runs for about three hours but game days are shorter.”
“Oh, that reminds me! Would you mind sending me your schedule for the next month or so? I wouldn’t want to disturb you or anything,” you said.
“I’ll grab a calendar at practice today and put it on the fridge later,” he agreed, finishing the last strip of bacon. Grabbing both empty plates in his hands, he walked over to the sink and turned on the water.
“I’ll get those!” You said quickly, rushing to take over from him, “You’ve got to get to practice anyway.”
Andre gave you a sideways look as if he wanted to start an argument or tell you that you weren’t his maid, but he knew he couldn’t. He was already running late, the impromptu breakfast took some extra time he hadn’t planned for, and knew he needed to get out that door before Nate ripped him a new one for being last on the ice. He also wanted to tell you to not touch the dishes and that he’d do them when he came home, but he had a feeling you wouldn’t listen anyway.
-
The next few days got a lot better. You seemed to fall into a routine together, you making breakfast before he had to hurry off to practice. When he had games, you made sure to get out for the day to leave him alone for whatever pregame rituals he had. The couple days he was gone on a short roadie, you spent the free time cleaning up around the apartment while also searching for a place of your own.
You hadn’t expected the search to take this long, but every place you’d seen had been too inconvenient, too expensive, or too dirty. You wanted to get out of his hair as quickly as possible, but it was starting to look like your planned two weeks would turn into a month.
You familiarized yourself with the facilities in his complex, making sure you were taking advantage of the luxurious amenities while you still had access to them. God knew you wouldn’t have this high class of a gym at your new apartment; hell, yours might not even have a gym.
You had just finished up a workout when you walked in to see Andre on the couch, looking at his phone
“Hey, Andre. I didn’t know you were going to be back this early,” you said, removing the airbuds from your ears. It was when you took them out that you could hear he was clearly on the phone with someone.
You whispered a ‘sorry,’ not wanting to interrupt his call. Andre looked back from the call when he heard you talk, his eyes drinking in your sweaty and spandex clad body in the kitchen.
“Hello, Burk?” the voice asked, snapping Andre out of his trance. His eyes flickered back to the phone screen, to you, and back to the screen quickly as he let out a strained cough.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. Y/N, just walked in, actually,” he said hurriedly, his voice low.
“Y/N’s there? Get her over here,” the voice said louder, and you immediately recognized it as Tom’s.
“Is that Tom?” You asked in an excited voice, rushing over to stand behind Andre on the couch. You didn’t wait for his answer before you shoved yourself into the frame to wave at him.
“Hey, Tom! How’s it going?” You asked with a bright smile, “Sorry, I just got back from the gym so I look disgusting.”
“You look great,” Tom said with a smirk, “Doesn’t she, Burky?”
Andre’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, but you were too caught up in seeing your friend to notice.
“How’s Taylor doing?” You asked instead.
“She’s doing well. How are you enjoying Denver? How’s apartment hunting going?” He asked.
“Denver’s great! Still looking because everything nice is way out of my price range, but I’m going to more showings next week,” you replied, draping yourself over Andre’s shoulder to see Tom up closer.
“Burky why don’t you help her out? You gotta have some connections to finding apartments,” Tom insisted with a shit-eating grin. Andre made a non-committal sound of agreement, but you were talking again before he could reply.
“Andre’s probably busy anyway,” you said, leaning back, “I gotta go take a shower, but it was nice talking to you, Tom! Tell Taylor I said hi and that I’ll call her soon!” You finished the last before disappearing down the hallway.
“Oh, boy, I bet you’re loving life right now,” Tom said, laughing a few seconds after he heard a door shutting in the distance.
“Shut up,” Andre grumbled, the same blush still burning on his face. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, his hand disappearing for a split second.
“Go beat it off in the shower, lover boy,” Tom said, “Oh, and Taylor told me to remind you to not touch.”
-
Two weeks had passed before you finally had a visitor at the apartment. Well, visitors.
It was a Sunday morning, and you were in the middle of making, yet another, breakfast. This time you had baked some cinnamon rolls, though this was more for your pleasure than Andre’s; you’d been craving cinnamon rolls for a week now and decided to go crazy with the baking this morning.
Andre had yet to come out of his room, but you knew he didn’t have practice this morning. It was in the middle of icing the freshly done rolls when you heard loud pounding on the front door.
“Burky, open up!” You heard a loud voice shout from the otherwise. Quickly wiping off the icing sticking to your hands, you hurried to answer the door, and on the other side stood three tall men.
“Well, I can see why he wasn’t answering his phone,” the curly haired boy muttered under his breath.
“Oh, I’m not— I’m crashing with Andre for a little bit while I find an apartment,” you explained, your cheeks heating up slightly at the insinuation.
“Ah, so you’re the favor he’s doing for a friend,” the blonde one in the middle said. You nodded your head.
“Come on in,” you said after a second, opening the door wider, “I don’t think Andre’s up yet, but you can go check. I was just in the middle of making cinnamon rolls if you want some?”
The boys followed you into the kitchen, the blonde one saying he was going to wake up Andre. The other two sat themselves at the counter and looked at you expectantly while you served the cinnamon rolls on a plate.
“Thank you, these look delicious,” the dark haired one said when you set the plate in front of them.
“So, what’s your name? What brings you to Denver? Andre mentioned someone was staying with him for a while, but he hasn’t told us anything about you. I’m Tyson, and this is Naz. The other guy’s Gabe,” the curly one explained.
“I’m Y/N,” you answered, “I’m a friend of Tom Wilson’s, and when I said I was moving to Denver, he told me of this friend he had that I could crash with until I found a place.”
“Well, I can see why he’s been keeping you a secret,” Naz said, mouth full of roll.
“Oh, I’m sure it probably slipped his mind. It’s not that big of a deal,” you said.
“So, have you found an apartment yet?” Tyson asked, picking up a second roll.
“Not yet. It’s been a lot harder than I expected, but hopefully I find one next week.”
“If I were Burky, I’d never want you to leave. These cinnamon rolls are mouthwatering,” Naz complimented.
You blushed at his comment, thanking him silently before you all heard a commotion coming from the hallway. Andre and Gabe appeared a few seconds later, Andre still looking a little sleepy but dressed and ready to go.
“Where are you guys going?” You asked, noting the preppy way they were all dressed.
“Golfing. We go to a country club about half an hour outside of the city. You should come with us next time,” Tyson asked, smile appearing on his face as he glanced between you and Andre.
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass,” you chuckled, “No offense, but golfing sounds like my worst nightmare.”
“Your loss, but that’s okay. We can always do something else together,” Tyson offered with a smirk. You blushed at his forwardness, laughing lightly since you couldn’t think of anything to say.
“We gotta get going,” Andre mumbled from beside Gabe, glaring at the grins on his teammates’ faces.
The group shuffled around to get up, clearly not wanting to challenge Andre. The blonde’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than the rest before he flickered it to Burky. A sly smile formed on his face before he grabbed a cinnamon roll to go.
“Thank you for the breakfast, Y/N,” Naz said and was echoed with ‘thank you’s from Gabe and Tyson as well. Andre reached the door first, opening it way before the guys had even left the kitchen. The three guys exchanged a funny look before shrugging to exit the apartment, Andre giving you a quick nod of recognition before he shut it behind him.
You twisted your face in confusion at Andre’s odd behavior, but you shrugged it off, attributing it to his lack of sleep instead.
-
“So… Y/N… you didn’t tell us your temporary roommate was a hot girl,” Tyson said as he and Burky watched Gabe take a swing.
“No,” Andre said gruffly, not even bothering to look at his friend.
“Are you planning to do something?” He insisted further.
“No,” he repeated in the same fashion.
“If, you’re not going to, can I—”
“No.” Andre wasn’t even allowed to touch her himself, and he’d be damned if he let any of his teammates try.
Tyson stared at Andre now, a wide smile spreading over his face at Andre’s callousness about the situation. Tyson had him pinned right where he wanted him, and there was nothing Tyson loved more than causing a little drama.
“Ah, buddy, but you totally want to, don’t you?” He asked, turning his body to fully face his friend now with his arms crossed and brows raised.
Andre shifted his gaze to glare into Tyson’s eyes in response, but the hard set of his jawline told Tyson all he needed to know.
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Mistakes - Topper Thornton
Word Count: 2599
Warnings: death, swearing.
A/N: So I had to look up Topper’s mother’s name, and found out that apparently he is a professional surfer??? Did I miss this the countless times I’ve watched the show???
It was three day’s before Topper was getting married. It was going to be the biggest wedding on the island. Finally, the Thornton and Cameron family coming together. This wasn’t for business, or blending families, this was simply the will of love between two people. Topper and Sarah had been together, broke up and then got back together when they came home from college. Topper went to university out west, studying pre-law while Sarah stayed home and got her nursing degree. It was about five years they weren’t together. Topper moved back home to finish his degree and started to work for law firm on the island. To say that Cynthia and Ward were ecstatic was an understatement, they had already started making business plans around their kids’ marriage. Cynthia invested in Rose’s real-estate, and Rose helped her find a new office for her clinics. Cynthia also helped Sarah get a job at the hospital.
Nothing was being left behind. When Topper and Sarah announced their engagement to everyone the planning went crazy. The engagement party was held at the country club and no expense was spared. It was obvious Rafe wasn’t getting married any time soon, and Wheezie was still too young. Sarah loved planning all the events and getting the photo’s done. She was happy to being doing all of this with Topper by her side. At one point in time, Topper was over baring for Sarah, almost too invested in pleasing her. When they were in high school the relationship didn’t work because they were on two different pages, they had two different needs. When Sarah left for college, she had a couple boyfriends but nothing really lasting, when she moved back to island, she ran into Topper at the Heyward’s grocery store and he asked her out for coffee to catch up. The rest being history.
Topper on the other hand had a serious relationship that he left out west. Y/N was everything to Topper at one point in his life. He had grown from his relationship in high school. Learning from his mistake he always tried to not be clingy towards her. She was a history major, planning on becoming a teacher. Y/N loved kids, she always dreamt of having plenty of her own. Topper and Y/N were together for almost four and half years. Y/N thought she was going to marry Topper, never imagining her life with anyone else. They had made plans together. Moving back to the Carolina’s when they both finished school. Topper working at law firm for a while before starting his own practice, Y/N working at the high school he went too, or maybe the elementary school. They both wanted kids, Y/N wanted more then him, but they could compromise. They wanted to buy a nice house by the water, teach the kids how to surf, have a garden, maybe a dog. Everything was planned, until it wasn’t.
Y/N’s mom got sick her last year of university. Her mom had been sick a lot when she was a child, always spending time at other family’s houses growing up. She was an only child and her dad left when she was a little girl. When Y/N got the news that her mother was sick and needed her help, she didn’t question transferring to a university closer to home. In all honesty she thought about dropping out, being with her mom full time. The doctor told Y/N that this was her last fight. They thought she might’ve had 5 good years left, if they were lucky. When she told Topper this, he held her while she cried. He didn’t know a lot about her childhood, just assumed she like to keep that private, but that night she told him everything. Maybe she should have waited to bring up leaving, but she had to get everything off her chest that night. “Top, she only has a couple years left. I need to spend those with her. I need to be there for her.” Y/N tells him through tears and sniffles. “Wait, what do you mean? You’re not leaving, are you? Y/N/N, we have plans.” Topper was upset that she could so easily replace him. Not thinking twice about it. “You can come with me; we can do this together. I’m not sure if I can do this without you. Please Top, come with me. I need you.” She looked into his eyes and got the answer she wasn’t looking for. She saw anger and hurt. This wasn’t the Topper she fell in love. The one that was so kind and thoughtful.
That was where things ended. He wasn’t changing his life, not the life they wanted for her. It was selfish of him, but they had plans. So they went their separate ways. Topper always kept an eye on the obituaries from her hometown. A couple years after being with Sarah he finally saw it. Y/N’s mom had died and left everything to her. He sent a card and donation, wondering if she ever got. He even paid all the funeral expenses. In some way he was trying to make up for the hurt he caused her. That next day he proposed to Sarah. When they were sending invitations to everyone, Sarah asked if his list was ready. They had the same friends so they only people extra he wanted to invite were some colleagues and old university buddies. He kept one invitation for himself though. Not telling Sarah why he wanted and extra one. He wanted to send one to Y/N, but he wanted to send more then just an invitation, he wrote her letter, wanting to get things off his chest before claiming his love to another women in front of a church. He knew it was wrong to send it, but he didn’t care. He figured you’d moved anyways after your mom died. You always said you hated your hometown. He sat down at his desk grabbing a pen and just started to write.
Dear Y/N,
I don’t know why I’m doing this. I can’t being to imagine what you must be thinking right now. I could take a swing at it though. Maybe your think what the hell is he writing me letter for. He broke my heart; he tore it into a million piece when I needed him the most. I don’t know why I did that to you. I think maybe because I got so scared you were going to leave and move on without me. I had pictured our life a certain way for so long that I didn’t want it to go any other way. I fucked up Y/N. I fucked you over when you left. I read about your mother online. I should have been there with you to get through everything. I should have been there with you, to hold you when you cried for her, to help make the big decisions. I donated to the charity you picked out. The school meal program, the was sweet. You can see that I’m getting married, to Sarah of all people. She’s a nurse now, working at the hospital with my mom. Things have gotten better with my mom. Things aren’t so bad between us. She loves planning this wedding, her and Sarah are like kids in candy store with the details. I finished law school; I’m working at firm here on the island. It’s nice to be home, I’ve enjoyed surfing on the east coast again. Sometimes I look around and I wonder if things would have been different if you stayed and we did this together. I wonder if you would have liked it here or maybe you wouldn’t because you hate storms, and we get a lot of hurricanes. I want to apologize Y/N. I want to say I’m sorry for hurting you the way I did. I’ll never forgot the look on your face that night. It keeps me awake at night. What I did to you Y/N, it was wrong, and I wouldn’t blame you for ripping this letter up and not giving me second thought. But if you don’t if you read this know that I’m inviting you to the wedding. I want you there, and not in some vengeful way, but as someone who I still want to have there. I understand if you don’t want to come but I hope you find it somewhere in your heart to change your mind.
Yours truly, Topper
It was sunny that day. Y/N had run to the post office on her break at work. She had finished her degree a year late, opting to take a year off when her mother first got sick. She got three good years with mom. They did everything on her bucket list. They went to Italy, then went rock climbing. Her mom took a cooking class, but most importantly she watched her daughter get married. When Y/N moved back home, she had no time for men. She wasn’t over Topper and wanted to put her full focus on her mom. After a while things got better and her heart started to hurt less. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, but when a new teacher started at her school her boss asked her to help him out. Evan was great. He was funny, kind and smart. He listened to everything she had to say. He heard from other teachers what was going with her mom and he became her support person. He proposed after only eight months of being together, but the two of them were so happy. It was different happy then Topper. He didn’t make her feel the same way but she had to come to terms with the fact the no one was going to make her feel that way. It wasn’t fair to Evan to expect him to be someone he’s not. When he proposed it was the best day of her life. You guys did rush the wedding, but only because Y/N wanted her mom to be there. That was the last thing on her bucket list. To see her little girl, get married. Evan and Y/N didn’t take a honeymoon because a few weeks after the wedding her mom had finally passed. Y/N was devasted, she was hoping by some miraculous discovery they would cure her. It was a poor girl dream that didn’t come true. Y/N had planned the funeral with the help of Evan. When Evan went to pay for the funeral, the pastor told him it was already paid for by an angel donor. When he talked to her about, she assumed it was someone in the town that knew her mother.
When Y/N saw the letter she recognized Topper’s hand writing. It was like a child’s, scribbled and almost unreadable. She could only read it from years of helping him study for tests. Her heart stopped for the second time in her life. Sitting in her car reading the words he wrote to her brought back a lot of painful memories she sooner forget. She was so angry with him for bringing the past up but was happy to know that he had moved on from her. She never doubted that he would, after being so cruel to her, she began to wonder if all those years were just lies. Some sick joke to him. Though no matter what he did, Topper Thornton always held a special spot in her heart. She looked at the wedding invitation that went sent along with the letter and wondered if she should go. She could be spiteful and bring Evan with her making Topper fell some sort of pain. She didn’t think he could ever feel the same pain as she did. If it weren’t for Evan she would be alone right now.
Weeks turned into months and Y/N never told Evan about the letter she received. At first, she thought she wouldn’t go. Not giving Topper the validation that he still had some hold on her, but then she thought it might bring her closure to see him getting married. Maybe it would be like officially closing that chapter of her life. That’s what brought her to place she is now. Sitting in a plane on her way to North Carolina to watch the man she once so dearly loved get married. She brought a simple dress not wanting to stand out, as she clearly wasn’t going to know anyone. She had only been this nervous a few times before. Waving the flight attendant over for a drink, liquid courage is what she needed. She wasn’t going to make a scene. Just sneak in the back, watch them say their vows, and sneak back out. She didn’t even book a hotel room opting to leave right after. She told Evan that she was meeting a friend out there from college which wasn’t a complete lie.
After the longest flight of her life, she caught the last fairy boat to Topper’s hometown. She drove through town in a rental car. It was small but cute. She found herself picturing the life she could’ve had. All the things Topper told her about his childhood. She even drove by the school reminiscing on the time she spent with Topper. With 10 minutes until the wedding she parked the car outside the venue. Just breathe Y/N, they’re so many people here he wont even notice you. Twisting the ring on her finger she pulled herself out of the car and towards the church. Sitting in the back Y/N listened to people talk. All of them speaking about Topper and Sarah when they were younger, how he couldn’t have found anyone better. She noticed that he’s not up at the alter. She remembered that he always wanted his mom to walk him down the aisle, saying it just made sense.
Y/N was pulled from her train of thought when the music started to play, watching as the door opened. Her heart stopped; there he was. He had aged. He let his beard grow out a bit, and his hair was lighter. He looked so handsome in his tux. His mother looked the same as always, stern but happy. Then the wedding party came out three bridesmaids and three groomsmen. You recognized one of them being Rafe Cameron. You met him a couple times with Topper, they were best friends, but he was heavy into the drugs. He didn’t look strung out though. When ‘here comes the bride’ started everyone stood and turned towards the door. When they opened again a beautiful woman stepped out with her father. She looked stunning, the dress was simple and delicate and looked like it matched her personality. Y/N felt jealous of her, she wanted to be the one wearing the dress. Looking up at Topper, he looked like he was going to cry. That’s when it happened, he looked around the room to take the moment in, he saw her standing in the back looking at Sarah. He didn’t think she would come but he was glad she did. She looked older, but happy. She changed her hair colour, finally got the bangs she always talked about getting. Looking at her and then back at Sarah, Topper knew he was making the biggest mistake of his life. He wanted to run but knew he couldn’t hurt Sarah like he did Y/N. He couldn’t break two girls hearts’. So, with that he kept his eye on Sarah and forced himself to make the biggest mistake ever.
#topper thorton imagine#topper thorton x reader#topper obx#topper outer banks#austin north#outer banks#sarah x topper#sarah cameron#topper thorton x y/n#topper thorton#topper thornton x y/n
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It Started With a Postcard (Sero x F! Reader)
This is my contribution to the BNHarem’s penpal event! This event is nsfw so be warned! I had a lot of fun with this collab <3
Please see the Penpal Masterlist to see the other characters!
Warnings: smut, nsfw themes below!
Sero stood outside his apartment, staring down at a flowery postcard in his hand with an apprehensive gaze. The early afternoon sun warmed his shoulders, reminding him that he was still stood outside of his modest house. He brought the mail inside, kicking off his shoes at the door. Bills and various coupons were glanced over quickly before his eyes returned to the stiff postcard. The other mail was inelegantly dropped on the kitchen counter. Sero’s eyes scanned the delicate writing as he rummaged his kitchen for a drink. The handwriting was rushed and messy, but still a softer hand than his own.
It had been a spur of the moment kind of thing, signing up for an anonymous penpal. He had been passing through a stationery store on his way home from patrol, preferring the calm walk home instead of flying above as he did for work. It allowed him to leave a lot of the tension of his job outside of his home as he watched the calm masses meander through the streets in the dying light. He had passed the shop many times before. There was just something that pulled to the shopfront that day. The scent of wooden pencils and lightly perfumed paper leaked out onto the streets, likely from the kiosk placed in front of the encompassing window. He knew it was a ploy to get more out of a dying business, selling a penpal package with bundled paper, envelopes, stamps, and a single postcard. There were spaces to fill out his information, and all letters would be sent through the shop. It had been tempting at the time, the opportunity to talk to someone who didn’t know his hero persona.
It had gotten tiring throughout the years, being the backbone of his friend group. Bakugou didn’t have the emotional intelligence to comfort their friends, Kaminari and Mina were too reckless and blase, and poor Kirishima was ironically too soft. So it had fallen to him, the voice of reason. The one everyone called at three in the morning when the weight was too heavy for one of his friends to hold alone. He had carried it all for years, not stopping to wonder who would hold him together while he supported everyone else. He just had to shrug it off with a smile, as they expected.
But now, the unassuming postcard in his hand offered something different. This person expected nothing more from him than a letter. He didn’t have to be Sero the hero, or Sero the strong one, he could just be Sero. His eyes roamed over the postcard once more before he searched the house for the bundle of paper he purchased. He flopped down onto his couch, picking out a soft grey piece of stationary and leaning over his coffee table to write.
For the first time since high school, Sero struggled with his words. His sentences were awkward and stunted and he floundered over what to say. It was harder than he remembered to start up a conversation with someone who couldn’t instantly reply. Even more so when he was trying to be vigilant about not letting his penpal, Y/N, know about his hero work. Everything he put down about his life felt vague and he hoped his new penpal would overlook his obvious avoidance of the topic.
It took a few days before Sero received a reply. He couldn’t excuse the excitement he felt at the soft envelope in his mailbox, stamped with the stationery store’s address. Sero briefly wondered about who his penpal could be, it would have to be someone within his patrol area. The store was locally owned after all. Perhaps he had even saved his penpal before.
While Sero’s letter had been subdued, neutral in both color and tone, his penpal was decidedly exuberant. The paper itself was awash in pastels with a light littering of designs, neither dark enough to obscure their writing. He noticed the writing was less hurried, but not much neater. It helped anchor Sero to the idea that it was another person on the other side of this letter, something as little as not having the best penmanship was oddly endearing.
His name ‘Hanta’ curled in a delicate slant at the top, causing the breath in Sero’s lungs to hitch. He had forgotten he hadn’t signed his full name, too worried that his penpal would connect it to his hero life and put him on some sort of pedestal. His penpal wrote significantly more about themselves than he had, but didn’t seem perturbed at his reluctance.
They worked a job they were okay at, they lived modestly within their means, they saw their friends often enough, and they met with their parents once a month for dinner. They were happy, but they wished for something to break up the monotony, therefore they signed up for the penpal service. Even though the topic was a bit dull, Sero saw the life behind their words. Humor laced their words and although Sero wasn’t quite happy about the self-deprecating tone, he could work with that. Your name was signed at the bottom, a messy smiley face scrawled just next to it. Without thinking, he brushed his thumb over the doodle, the smile blurred but still bringing a smile to Sero’s face.
There was no hesitance this time as he picked a more playful stationary. The words seem to flow onto the paper with no thought, he had forgotten how nice it was to just communicate with someone with no pretenses.
Weeks passed this way, and people could tell there was a little more pep to Cellophane’s step. He was more eager to get home, a new letter appearing in his mailbox every few days. Truth be told, he hated the wait. Every word poured out to pages made him feel closer to his mystery friend. He paused today, walking through the busy streets. Did he consider his penpal his friend? In every way you could consider someone you know only through words on paper, he supposed he did. Throughout the months of writing, there had been no lack of conversation. They shared in each other’s good fortune and even a few less fortunate events. Sero looked forward to their letters even more than Kaminari’s occasional club invites. Even now as he dodged his neighbor’s attempts at conversation, all he could think of was the softly scented envelope he hoped was waiting for him.
His hopes were rewarded. Sero glanced sheepishly at the growing piles of neglected mail on his counters as he cradled the letter to his chest. He wasted no time reclining on his couch and opening your letter. He wondered, not for the first time, if you sprayed some sort of perfume on your letter or if that was just the scent of you. Either way, it had become a comfort to him. There was no stopping the grin that dominated his face as he laid back onto the couch, intently running his eyes over your words. You always made sure to respond to everything he said, Sero had no idea the last time he felt this seen.
He was already moving to pen up a reply before he noticed your signature smiley face was missing from the end of the letter. Instead, penned in a shaky hand,
‘Call me sometime, Hanta. XXX-XXX-XXXX’
Sero stumbled over his feet trying to get up, ultimately ending up in a heap on the floor. In his haste, he struck out with his tape, pulling his phone from the counter into his hand. He quickly unstuck the tape and tapped open his contacts. Once your contact was filled out, the empty picture stared Sero in the face. His fingers seemed to move on their own, pressing the phone icon softly. It finally registered as the dial tone rang through his silent house, his hands fumbling to get the phone to his ear.
You picked up after two rings.
“Hanta!” His heart swelled as he realized he wasn’t the only one eager to talk, not to mention his given name falling so easily from your lips.
“Wow, do you have some sort of psychic quirk?” He chuckled into the phone. Neither of you had disclosed your quirks as of yet. You returned his laughter nervously.
“Oh definitely, I haven’t been answering every unknown number the past two days with your name or anything.” Sero settled himself on the floor, his free arm stretching up over his head. The sun streaming through his window, the particles in the air lit like tiny embers as they drifted. It felt as if his grin was etched into his face with how much he was smiling. He almost missed the silence that stretched on as he tried to imprint your voice into his head.
“Oh, sorry. I just got off of work, why don’t you tell me how your day went while I unwind a little?” It almost felt as if he was floating as you prattled on about the mundane happenings of your day. It was so normal, so nice. He forgot how nice it was to just live for a minute.
“Hanta?” He hoped you couldn’t tell the way he choked on his breath every time you said his name. “You just got off of work, how was your day?”
“Well I’ve got a few hours to rest before I’m on call, but today was pretty low-key as far as they go.” It felt natural to tell you about his day that he didn’t notice his slip up. It wasn’t as easy as it was on paper.
“On-call?” Sero cringed as you questioned. “Like at a hospital or something?”
”Something like that.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He heard you hum an affirmation, but to his surprise, you didn’t push any further.
“Sounds kinda rough, Hanta. I know I’m pretty cranky when my schedule gets changed.” He appreciated how you kept trying to get to know him without pushing the things he wasn’t ready to share. “And it must be some commute if you work in something like a hospital. There aren’t any close-by. Oh, sorry, I guess I’m assuming you live nearby since the paper shop is local.”
“Yeah, I do. Live nearby, I mean… and the commute isn’t terrible.” Sero muttered awkwardly into the phone.
“I wonder how many times we’ve passed each other without knowing.” Your voice came out a little breathlessly as if you were daydreaming on the other end.
It was easy for Sero to fall into you. Hours passed by as the two of you talked about anything that came to mind. He had barely even noticed the shadows growing deeper as the light faded from his house, until only darkness remained, cut by a singular beam of light from the bright moon. He was fully content to talk to you all night, provided that he wasn’t called into work. At least he was until your yawn cut through your voice.
“I didn’t realize it was so late. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Your voice was getting exponentially drowsy with each minute that passed.
“I’m already on-call, you should get some sleep though.” He chuckled softly into the receiver. Your sleepy voice was adorable.
“Hanta! You shouldn’t have let me blather on instead of letting you rest.” You tried your best to reprimand him, but it only brought forth another soft chuckle.
“I’ll be fine. It was worth it to talk to you, anyway. Now go to bed. Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Hanta.” Your voice was barely a breath, and Sero was reluctant to hang up.
It became a nightly ritual between the two of you. Sero called whenever he got off of work, and the two of you talked throughout the night. He insisted you stay on the line even as he made dinner. Sero gave good advice on your shitty coworkers, and he told you stories about his eccentric friends to fill the empty space. You had even tuned into a show together, commenting about the bad storyline and cheesy acting. Every night, Sero would wait for your yawn and wish you a goodnight. You had buried yourself in his heart, and he was in no hurry to remove you.
You were convinced you had worried a path in your floor. Sero’s calls were never on a set schedule, but he had called you every night for over a month, and it was passed the time you usually fell asleep on him. There had been no word from him all day, not even a text to say he’d miss your call.
Sero got back home late. It had been the worst day that he’d had in a while. He was called for assistance rescuing people while some of his more combat-oriented heroes took on a villain, but there had been heavy casualties. All the tape in the world couldn’t fix someone crushed by the rubble. Sero knew that too well now.
His body moved on muscle memory. He had already changed out of his gear and showered at the agency, so he simply kicked his shoes off and stumbled to the couch. There was no thought to it as he dialed your number.
“Hanta! Are you okay?” The panic in your voice floored him.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of how late it was. Did I wake you?” The somber tone of his voice shook you.
“It’s fine, did something happen?” Sero sighed into the phone, choosing his words carefully.
“My work involves helping people, but I wasn’t able to save all of them today.”
The two of you talked into the early hours of the morning. Sero felt everything spill over as he spoke, and you somehow took everything in stride.
“...And I couldn’t do anything.” Somehow his chest felt lighter and tight all at the same time.
“That doesn’t mean that your work isn’t important anymore. You make a difference. A big one.” Was this how other people felt when he was on the other side? It didn’t stop hurting, but knowing that someone was there carrying the weight with you was more than Sero could have hoped for.
Life returned to normal after that, with the exception that Sero started being a little more forthcoming with how his days went. You still didn’t know his exact occupation, but you knew enough to help on the rough days. It only made the feelings Sero had for you more intense. Even though the two of you talked every night and sent little text messages throughout the day, neither you nor Sero stopped sending little letters to each other.
Sero was rummaging through the leftover bits of his penpal package, trying to find a good piece of stationery to pen his next letter. His frown marred his face as dull, formal paper littered the bottom of the box. It would have seemed silly to him at the beginning of your correspondence, but he wanted everything to be perfect in his letters. He had saved every one you had sent, after all. If you were doing the same, they had to at least look like they were worth saving.
Sero wandered into the stationery store, sunglasses perched on his face and a practiced neutral expression on his face. With his hoodie bunched up around his oddly shaped elbows, the only recognizable feature Sero seemed to have was his trademark grin. If he could get in and out without being noticed, he would be able to get a letter out tonight instead of tomorrow morning.
If drumming up business was the reason for the penpal event, it sure seemed to work if Sero was any judge. He wandered through the aisles, stopping often to look at delicate papers with seasonal decorations. He noticed with a flush that all papers in his grasp were soft and floral, reminiscent of new spring love. In an effort to shake those thoughts from his mind, he watched the other patrons roaming the store. Any of them could be you, passing by without even knowing. One customer in particular had caught his eye, thumbing papers in soft greys and a pale yellow clutched in her hands. How lucky he would be if you were anything like her. He realized a bit later that his distraction had only led him deeper into his daydreams, so instead, he browsed the rubber stamps and stickers towards the end of the aisle. Would you like it if he placed stickers on his letters? Which ones would you like? Maybe the delicate cherry blossom stickers, or the pack with puppies? Did you like a specific character?
He had been so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the ring of the vaguely familiar voice from the front of the store. He heard it every night, but never this clear. Who else could it be but you? He rushed to the front of the store, the bell chiming as it fell closed. He had half a mind to follow you into the street, seek you out finally. Maybe then he could get you out of his head. But the shopkeeper had called to him, noticing his armful of papers, and Sero knew it was too late. Even if he left now, he wouldn’t be able to pick you out of the crowd. Next time he wouldn’t hesitate.
It was easier to admit on paper. Sero wrote to you that night about how he thought he may have just missed you earlier, and how he had started thinking about meeting up. His hand trembled as he wrote about he was a bit nervous about how much he liked you. He finished the letter quickly, sealing it in an envelope and placing it in the mailbox before collapsing in bed. No taking it back now.
It had been quiet for days, and Sero was starting to feel on edge. He liked the days where there wasn’t much to do, it meant that everything was safe and he was doing his job, but multiple days in a row meant trouble. It didn’t take long for his hunch to be proven correct. Glass shattered onto the streets, metal crunched against metal, and Sero moved as fast as he could push himself to go.
Thankfully a few heroes had been nearby to assist Sero with the robbery-turned-mass-destruction. It took them longer than Sero liked, but the villains were subdued. With the criminals apprehended, Sero focused on the cleanup. He had no more than a few scratches, but he was worried about all those that may be trapped in the toppling buildings. A few buildings sat askew, steel beams exposed like snakes reaching out into the sky. It was fairly easy for him to stabilize the buildings, swinging around with his tape like a spider cocooning its prey. As each building was stabilized, he quickly scanned through the halls, escorting any remaining citizens out of the building and past the danger zone. He worked methodically, moving down the street and clearing each building before the next. Compassionate, yet logical. He couldn’t let the recent memory of his losses skew his current predicament.
Those thoughts had swum through Sero’s head until a harsh squeal accompanied by a metallic groan met his ears. He wasted no time jumping into action, flinging himself through the sky to the source. There you hung, dangling by increasingly sweaty hands as you desperately tried to get a better grip on the slowly sagging steel girder. Sero’s heart beat erratically against his chest, but his body moved on instincts ingrained in his muscles.
It always looked so smooth in the movies when the hero swoops in to save the girl. The girl would stare up at the hero in admiration as they glided through the air, as graceful in the sky as a bird. That’s not how you felt. Cellophane’s body collided against yours like a truck, pushing the air from your lungs. Your whole body lurched against his as he scooped you up. The crashing of the beam behind you echoed in your ears, you couldn’t begin to imagine what would have happened if he had been even a minute later. Cellophane may have swung through the air like he was made for it, but your body was jostled by the air beating against your face. The helmet seemed a really wise choice at the moment. As you struggled to grip onto his form, you felt the phone in your pocket easing it’s way out.
“Hey, stop squirming. I’ve got you.” Cellophane spoke to you calmly, but all you could think of was the phone that was about to shatter across the pavement far below you. Your hand reached out to grasp at the device, grasping around thin air. “It’s just a phone, you can get a new one.” Cellophane tried to comfort you as you watched the glittering of your phone exploding and becoming one with the debris of the street.
“No, I have to be there when Hanta calls!” You cried out. Today had already been hard enough, and in your frightened state, all you could think of was how Hanta would hate you if you ghosted him. Cellophane’s chuckle rumbled through where your chests touched, and you couldn’t help but smack his shoulder lightly. “It’s not funny.” Tears gathered in your eyes, all these emotions were too much for you.
“I think Hanta won’t mind if you miss a call, Y/N.” He cooed. You were startled as the tears escaped your eyes.
“Hanta?” His grin was visible through his helmet as he clutched you a little closer to his chest.
“Gotta say, this wasn’t what I was thinking of when I said I wanted to meet you.” You manage to loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer, causing him to veer off course slightly. He righted himself with a nervous chuckle, landing gently on a stable rooftop nearby. “Sit tight for a bit and I’ll come get you, okay?” You could only nod numbly as he propelled himself back into the sky.
Sero may have rushed through his work, knowing you were waiting for him as the chill of the night started to set in. It had been a long time since he felt such a thrill soaring through the city. He circled lowly around the building, coming up behind you as you swung your feet off the edge of the building, staring up at the night sky. He plopped down beside you, removing his helmet and fidgeting with his sweat-slicked hair.
“So… come here often?” Sero pulled a startled chuckle out of you before you leaned onto his shoulder.
“Good one Hanta. Or should I say Cellophane? Now I kinda get why you were so reluctant to tell me your job.” You returned your sights to the sky, a little nervous to look him in the eye.
He stood then and offered you a hand. “Sero Hanta, hero name Cellophane, at your service.” He grinned down at you, and you took his hand to help you stand. You toed the ground with a flush.
“So should I call you Sero then?” It was Sero’s turn to blush.
“Actually, I was hoping this wouldn’t change much between us. I like it when you use my given name.” You nodded, finally looking into his eyes.
“Then you should use mine, too!” Your joined hands still sat between you, and although Sero had realized, he simply gave it a soft squeeze.
“Well, my place is nearby if you want to get cleaned up?” He offered awkwardly. You were suddenly and intensely aware of how all the dust and dirt clung to your skin.
“That would be wonderful.” His smile turned mischievous as he pulled you to his chest, not giving you time to get nervous as he vaulted the two of you off the roof. You had half a mind to scold him, but you were too focused on enjoying the ride. Seeing the city you lived in, the streets you walked every day, from a bird’s eye view was not something you would forget anytime soon. The biting wind stung your eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close them.
To your surprise, Sero deposited the two of you on his balcony. Why waste time with the front door when he could meander through the sliding door? He quickly ushered you through his room. He tried to at least. You were having too much fun pretending your legs were jelly and trying to get a glimpse of his room. It was nice to know that the light-hearted chemistry you had felt over the phone was more than present in person by the way Sero was laughing along with you instead of kicking you out.
The two of you settled into his living room, cold drinks in hand as you tried to catch your breath from the whirlwind of a day. Sero seemed to be keeping an eye on you, and you wondered if he was simply looking for any lingering unease from the attack or if he was as enamored with you as you were with him.
“The bathroom is down the hall, you should get cleaned up.” He broke the comfortable silence, motioning to a door behind you. You shook your head vehemently.
“Oh no, Mr. Hero, sir.” You giggled at him, “You worked a long and hard day, I can wait.”
“You’re the guest!”
“And I’ll be a damned good one and let you go first.” Sero huffed at you before conceding, tossing you a remote to the television as he passed.
“Fine, but next time you go first.” You gasped as he disappeared behind a door.
“Oooh, so you already think there will be a next time? Hanta, I took you for a gentleman!” You jeered at him playfully. Even with the door closed, you could hear him groan.
“Shush! I have neighbors ya know.” He tried to sound put-off, but you could hear the laughter in his voice. To his credit, he didn’t make you wait very long. Steam rolled out of the bathroom as he walked out, still toweling his hair. You tried not to stare at the way his shorts hung low on his hips or the way his shirt stuck to his still-damp skin, but there was no good place to look that wouldn’t make it obvious. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your conundrum, simply gesturing to the bathroom.
“It’s all ready for you, I’ve put out a towel you can use. Feel free to use any of my stuff, although it might smell as nice as you’re used to.” You thanked him softly as you escaped into the bathroom to hide your flush. The water still ran warm from Sero’s shower, and you were quick to strip and step into the stream. You watched in fascination as all the day’s mess ran down the drain, a sickly grey.
Sero waited for you on his couch, still pristine. He frowned, realizing that you had probably stood the whole time as to not dirty his furniture. You were too stubborn for your own good, it seemed. He mindlessly flipped through the channels, wondering vaguely if he should just watch one of the many shows he neglected. It wasn’t until he heard the soft padding of your feet that he pulled himself from his thoughts. You stood at the entrance of the hallway, covered only by the fluffy towel he had left for you. Your face was fully flushed, and Sero tried to convince himself it was only from the shower.
“My clothes are completely wrecked, do you have anything I could change into?” Your voice was soft and reluctant, and Sero was quick to pop off the couch, slipping slightly in his haste to help you once again. He tried to slip past you to his room, but he couldn’t help stopping as your skin brushed against his. You looked up at him, eyes wide and questioning.
Sero prided himself on his control. Out of all of his friends, he was known as the level-headed and logical one. Even so, that restraint only went so far. Seeing you in such a state of undress, looking up at him so earnestly, it broke the dam holding back his desires.
His hands tangled in your wet hair, pulling your lips to his with bruising force. You gasped into his hold, dropping the towel as you draped your arms around his neck. Clothes were forgotten as his hands traveled down your neck, moving your head to fit against his better. His tongue traced against your lips with agonizing slowness, but his hands held no such restraint. His rough fingertips drifted down your neck, ghosting past your nipples as they made their way to your waist. He didn’t hesitate to lift you by the thighs, making you anchor your legs around him.
Sero staggered to his room, never once compromising his hold on you. His body followed you down onto his bed, not letting his lips leave you for more than a moment. When he finally broke away, eyes hazy with lust, he gazed down at you.
“Is this okay?” He wanted you to be sure. You were, especially after his question.
“Yes, Hanta. I want you.” Your voice was heavy with your desire, driving him to strip his shirt with an urgency he rarely felt outside of work. The fabric flew into the darkness of the room and his lips were on you shortly after. He let his hands roam now that you were in his bed, kneading experimentally at your breasts. You pushed your chest into his hold, encouraging him to give you more. Your hands found their way to his navel tracing down the path of dark hair. Sero was already straining against the fabric, and you softly swirled your fingers over the tip. He groaned darkly against your mouth, pulling back to rip the shorts off of his body. His lips descended on your chest, harsh nips and soothing licks raining down on your skin. You were so focused on the way he wrapped his lips around your nipple that you hadn’t noticed his hand grazing your skin down to your core. Sero swirled his tongue around your nipple, lavishing the other in rough pinches and soothing circles.
Your back arched off the bed as he spread your folds, skimming over your clit. You bucked against his hand, desperate to feel his fingers against you.
“You’re so wet for me.” He panted against your chest, staring up at you with dark eyes. “Did you think of me after our calls? Did our talks make your heart race like they did mine?” You nodded helplessly.
“Please Hanta.” You begged for his touch and he was too enamored with you to resist. His finger entered you deftly, his palm rough against your clit.
“I had hoped so, ya know I liked you even before I saw your face. Now I know how good you look, I don’t want to let you go.” He finished his breathy sentence with a nip to the underside of your breast, making you squirm against him. He moved back to watch you, adding another finger and then two. The squelching noises coming from his fingers would have normally embarrassed you, but you found yourself lost in the way that he stared at you like an oasis in a desert; like you were something he had been waiting for so long to indulge in. “I already knew you must be beautiful, just from your voice, but fuck, you are so much more than I could imagine. I think I could be happy to spend the rest of my life in this bed with you if you kept looking at me the way you do now.” His hand retreated from your heat, and your body tried to follow. “I’m sorry, I can’t hold back anymore.” He panted, fisting his weeping length before sliding it through the slick collected between your legs.
It was a sweet stretch as Sero sunk into you, a few thrusts before he was fully seated inside you. You reached for him, scratching at his shoulders as you tried to roll your hips up to meet him.
“Fuck, babe. You’re pulling me in so good.” He groaned, placing sloppy kisses across your shoulder. He pulled out to the tip, teasing himself as much as he was teasing you, before slamming home with a lewd smack. Your keening moan set him off, pistoning into your tight cunt without remorse. His fingers dug into your thighs as he tried to angle them higher without slowing. Sero’s hands slid up to the underside of your knees, almost bending you in half as he rolled his hips viciously, grinding up against your engorged clit with every thrust.
“I can’t get you off of my mind. F-fuck, I can’t let you go now. You’re stuck with me.” His hips stuttered against you as he spoke, slowing down to edge himself. The slowed pace had you writhing, not able to buck up against him well in this position. He chuckled softly, his breath hot on your skin. You were so focused on chasing your high, your eyes shut tight and head thrown back, that you barely noticed the tearing of tape coming from Sero. He deftly crossed your legs, attaching the tape to his headboard off to the side in a way that still allowed him to see your face. “Goddamn, babe, you’re so tight like this.” His breathing was erratic as he placed his newly-freed hands on your ass, separating them until he could clearly see himself sinking into your warm cunt. You gasped under his intense gaze, clenching around his cock. The veins were clear in his neck as he tried to hold himself back, his voice caught in his throat.
Then he snapped, a low groan resonating throughout the room. He was all fast, demanding thrusts and blissful praises. You responded in kind, wordless wails of pleasure and breathless gasps. “I’m not gonna be able to last much longer. Cum for me, baby, please.” He pleaded with you, his voice gravelly and needy. His calloused fingers found your clit easily, rubbing figure eights just on the right side of pain. Your legs struggled against the tape as you tried to grind yourself more on his length, pushing his cock into the spongy area that craved his attention. You felt yourself wind up, breaths shallow as you stayed rigid against his passion, desperate for him to keep rubbing against that spot. Your head was swimming with the lack of oxygen as you held your breath long enough for the tension to snap. Sero’s head flew back with a moan as your walls started to drag him further in, constricting his cock with an encompassing ecstasy. He sped up, keeping you on the precipice of over-stimulation. With a final wet smack, he sheathed himself within you, pulsating as the warm ropes of his cum branded your insides.
He stayed within you as he gently removed the tape from your skin, leaving soft kisses on every reddening section of skin. His hands rubbed soothing circles into your thighs, moving down to your calves. “Are your legs sore? I probably should have asked sooner.” He looked a bit ashamed as he asked, only relaxing once you shook your head. “Good.” He pulled out of you slowly, your combined fluids steadily flowing from you.
He quickly ran to his bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with warm water. Once he returned, he returned to his spot between your legs, delicately wiping up all remnants of your fluids. His touch was careful against your swollen sex, and the warmth soothed away any ache that may have remained. He cleaned himself quickly after, only settling himself in bed once he deemed you were taken care of. Once he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled you onto his shoulder.
“So… would it be presumptuous of me to call you my girlfriend?” A thread of nervousness weaved through his voice as he tucked your face away from his flushing face. You allowed yourself a tired giggle.
“I think that’d be nice, Hanta.” He shuddered at the feeling of your breath against his neck.
“Oh, great! Well then, does my beautiful, caring, amazing girlfriend want to stay the night.” You could feel his grin against your head and couldn’t resist the one on your own face.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t have work tomorrow, so why not.”
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Shackles Finale: Free
[Part 12]
Destiny is a fickle thing. For some it’s real, and for others it’s as fake as fairy tales. No matter what however, time still goes on. Things still happen. Ruby was never one to think too hard on the topic despite all she’s been through. However, as she walked into Menagerie’s hospital soaking wet from the extreme downpour happening in the middle of the night, Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if it was destiny to test everyone’s resolve; or karma coming to collect.
Her self imposed mission had been going well. Adam cooperated, Blake planned ahead, and things progressed steadily. It should’ve stayed like that for three more months. Unfortunately things don’t always go as planned. Jacquelyn went into labor early, too early. The woman woke up today looking fit as a fiddle. Who could’ve guessed she would be fighting for her life today? Her, and her daughter?
Hospital staff were in a frenzy from the storm just like the public. It made getting to the back where everyone was without suspicion easy for Ruby. Certain doctors were notified ahead of time of the complexities of their patient and precautions had already been in place for Jacquelyn and company to have no disturbances. Though nobody factored in an unhealthy birth creating this island’s worst storms to date. Ruby made it to the sealed off waiting room. What should’ve been a haven of calm was another conflict. Blake stood arms folded and ears back in the way of guards and her conflicted father while Adam sat behind her, silent.
“You know I expected more from you, Saber. That goes double for you dad.”
The man frowned. “Blake, this wasn’t my-”
“We have held our end of the agreement.” Saber interjected, “Adam was to be free until the child was born. Not my problem that day came early.”
Blake grit her teeth. “You know damn well that’s not why I’m standing here right now!” She said through her teeth. His kid had just been born moments ago and just like that, she was rushed to intensive care. Meanwhile Jacquelyn was slipping in and out, her body failing her during the labor. “Let him see this through.”
“What good would it do him to hear terrible news? He’ll lash out for all we know. That can not happen in a hospital!”
“You just want to kick him while he’s down!”
“AND FOR GOOD REASON!”
Okay, Ruby had enough. “HEY!” She yelled, gaining everyone’s attention. She brushed her wet hair out of her face. “I set up generators across the island. No one's gonna lose power. I also told people Menagerie’s guards were making their rounds to make sure everyone was accounted for. I don’t mean to overstep being an outsider and all but…” her eyes burrowed into Saber’s “Get to work.” It wasn’t kind or even right necessarily, but Ruby didn’t care.
Feeling the pressure, Saber made the wise decision to take his people and leave. Ghira looked at Blake with guilt in his eyes for letting it get this far. “Listen I-”
“You know I understand mom not wanting anything to do with this, but I didn’t expect this from you. It’s like you’re trying to create every reason to push him back into old habits and make all this worthless. We will hold up our end of the bargain, so teach them what you tell me and have some patience.”
Ghira didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. There was caution, and then there was insensitivity. He had no words, just a nod before walking away.
Ruby grabbed his arm in passing. “She knows this wasn’t your call. Blake is stressed. Your house still has power. Ilia is with Kali trying to calm down Sienna and Sun is helping check on people. Maybe you should go home too?” Ruby smiled softly. She knew a worried father when she saw one. Ghira needed something to do.
“I appreciate the concern Mrs. Rose, but I think I’ll just stand guard outside this room.”
“Understood, and hey, things will work themselves out.” Ruby let him go and headed from one worried feline to the next. “You know he’s not to blame right? He’s just…trying to keep everyone connected.”
Blake let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I know that, and I also know he’s not going to lose me. But right now I really need everyone to not jump the gun. Thanks for keeping the peace. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to your leadership skills.”
“I just got snippy with faunus officers on their own island. Really testing my boundaries with my status as an important huntress across Remnant.” Ruby patted Blake on the back. “You should go check in on the doctors. I’ll do my job watching our person of interest.”
“Okay.” Blake looked back at Adam. He stayed quiet throughout all of this, eyes closed and arms crossed. He must’ve figured the best thing he could do right now is not look threatening. “I’ll let you know first if anything changes okay?”
He still didn’t move but that didn’t stop him from speaking. “Thank you.” He heard Blake run off in a hurry while the sound of chair legs rubbed the ground in front of him. Adam opened his one good eye and saw Ruby sitting in front of him with her scroll in hand.
“You know…I can’t remember when a day has felt this long.” Ruby sighed, “Moments like these is enough to just make you want stop time ya know?”
“I don’t need sympathy.”
“Wasn’t giving any. Just venting I guess. My husband sent me a text. I’m missing a very important arrival today; not that it’s your fault by any means. I just know it’s gonna be grounds for a conversation later that might get feisty, again.”
Adam could see how tired Ruby was. The normally energetic woman was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed.
“Maybe you shouldn’t take long missions then?”
“Pfft nah. I don’t regret helping where I can. Besides I didn’t know until after I took the mission. Things will work themselves out though. That’s how family works. Believe in each other and the impossible happens.”
“I know what you’re doing. It’s not gonna work. Just stop talking okay?”
Ruby pursed her lips. Years of leadership didn’t prepare her talks like these. She had to say something though. It was hard to explain, but Ruby could feel the importance of this moment. Good or bad news, bottling this up would make anyone go insane. Ruby reached down her shirt and lifted her necklace. It was a silver cross with red roses wrapped around it. She took it off and dangled it on her fingers, scooting closer to Adam.
“My dad and uncle gave this to me on my birthday. They said…sometimes you need a piece of faith when you don’t have any yourself. I’m not really religious but apparently my mom used to pray after she knew there was nothing left she could do herself. Hehe, it’s a Rose mentality.” Ruby put it in Adam’s hand and curled it. “Don’t tell anyone this, but it’s pretty cool that you are your own kind of rose. Makes me feel like we’re connected in a way. Keep that. I know it’ll fit you.”
Adam remained quiet. He stared down at the trinket in his hand until his vision blurred. His body trembled. Slowly he clenched the cross. “I have no right to pray for anything. If destiny or whatever you want to call it exists then it’s only fair I get punished.”
Ruby frowned, “Hey that’s-” she cut herself short, not expecting Adam to put his other hand over the cross; his forehead pressing against them as he closed his eyes.
“Punish me.” He uttered weakly. “Me, not them. Leave everyone else out of it.” The first and only prayer he’ll ever make. His life could be at destiny’s whim forever as long as the ones who fought for him didn’t get burned.
Ruby stood from her seat and knelt down, grabbing his hands and joining the prayer. All while Ghira watched silently from the entrance.
For several hours, It was out of everyone’s hands. A roll of the dice, luck of the draw, fate, gods, destiny, whatever anyone wanted to call it; that was the only thing left and no one dared to keep track of the time out of anxiety. It was a scary, humbling feeling for certain. It was also the purest reminder that life wasn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people, hard work is left with nothing, and sometimes… a sinner’s prayers get heard.
The doors flung open with Blake breathless. “Adam…” she panted, eyes bigger than the smile on her face. “She’s-” the tears shed caught her off guard. The two roses stared blankly before Adam stood. Blake moved out of the doorway and he took it as a sign. ‘Run.’ Adam ran and no one dared to stop him.
“Back room.” Blake said, walking to her father. Ruby got up as well and joined the two. Blake looked at the red faced girl. The feline giggled softly while wiping Ruby’s tears. “And here I thought I knew how big your heart was?”
Ruby laughed as she tried to stop sniffling. “It’s not what it looks like. Seeing him sit there with his demons like that, it reminded me of how my dad and uncle qrow used to look when mom was brought up. Sorry, got a little compromised.”
“Welcome to the club. Dad, sorry I-”
Ghira wrapped his arm around Blake. “Don’t apologize. I tell you to take things slow and yet I tried rushing to the end of this. I’m sorry. I can’t say what lies in store for Adam next, but I suppose…I’ll have to keep more of an open mind. He’s earned that much.”
Ruby shook her head and sighed. “If I’m being honest, personally I think everyone has been a bit silly. Including my lovable sis. You all make it sound like he’s been trouble free for six months when that isn’t the case. I can’t say if he’s been perfect or not but the fact that Remnant thinks he died at Argus has to mean something, right? I certainly can’t link him to any world threatening incidents since then. He’s been minding his business for a couple years now. Is locking him up really gonna change anything? I mean it wouldn’t matter if Cinder was in or out of jail for me. I’d still be wary and pissed. Your men’s feelings about him wouldn’t change because of a cell. But hey, that’s just me.”
Ruby put her hands behind her hand and walked off. “I’m gonna step out for a moment and make a call.” She looked out a window. To her surprise, the rain had stopped. Ruby dialed Yang’s number. “Hey sis! Beautiful day to start a family. So, what’s my precious little niece’s name?”
xxxx
Adam reached the back room and pushed the door open to find Jacquelyn in bed, startled by his entrance before giving him a grin. Her skin had a sickly yellow dinge to it and she was covered in sweat. Still she smiled, holding a small infant as doctors looked at vitals and did their work.
“Awe, have you been crying? I’m sorry. Guess we gave you a fright.”
One of the nurses looked at the maiden like she was crazy. “Ma’am you slipped into a coma. Please don’t try and move around much.”
“I was a little tired, that's all. Heh…guess we finally found something I’m not good at? That’s un- oh…” Adam put his arms around her and the baby. Odd, to think he could hold something this gently? His presence soothed her into leaning into the embrace, humming quietly to both him and the new arrival. A premature baby with red hair, and tiny horns.
The doctor, naturally sworn to confidentiality, watched from the sidelines. “I’d like to congratulate you with confidence, but these two aren’t out of the woods yet. While I expect Jacquelyn to bounce back with time, your daughter is pretty frail. We have her stable for the time being but the heart is a complex organ even when fully developed. We’re going to have to keep her for a while just to make sure she’ll grow up healthy. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power for her.”
“Thank you.” Adam looked at his daughter’s round face. She opened her eyes to reveal two pools or bright blue. “Hmmm.”
“Something wrong?” Jacquelyn asked.
“She’ll have a hard time, with these features going for her. I was hoping she’d look more like you.”
“Oh hush. She’s beautiful like this. Though maybe I am a little jealous she doesn’t have my hair. Still, real big fan of those eyes.” She kissed his cheek. “We’ll do our best and then some.”
The doctor pulled out some paperwork. “Now then, I’m going to need a name. Her record won’t be too expensive in terms of…background history, but she’ll need the basics as best as possible. Especially in her condition.”
“Wanna name her after your mother, or even your sister?”
Adam shook his head, “I think we already have enough namesakes. Let her be free from that. You decide. I was never really good at these kinds of things.”
“Oooo okay. Don’t come crying later if you think of a good one. A free spirited name for our little kid.” Jacquelyn giggled to herself. “Got it. How about we name her…”
“Hehe, That’s a perfect name.” The two roses spoke.
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Swear pt.1
~ Connie x Reader
Description: Connie is trying to adjust to a life without his best friend
WARNINGS: car accident, blood and death (please let me know if I missed anything)
*reader is not in this part of the story, they will be in the next, but this part is for better understanding of the storyline*
It’s been months since her death, yet Connie is still grieving.
Sasha, his best friend, was in a terrible car accident six months prior. Connie was supposed to go out with her that night, to a popular club him, Sasha, and their other friends usually went to. But he was sick, not deathly, just a slight cold, but he just didn’t feel like going. So while Sasha was driving home extremely intoxicated after she refused any rides, feeling like a burden to her friends- Connie was sleeping soundly in the comfort of his bed. While Sasha was being flipped around on the inside of her car- Connie was tossing and turning from a fever induced nightmare. While Sasha became stuck in an upside down car, head bleeding, no feeling in her bottom half, trying to cry out for the pain to stop, begging for someone to help her- Connie was waking up from his slumber groggily to get a glass of water then fall right back to sleep. Sasha’s last concious thought was that she wished Connie came tonight, she missed him and wished that she had just called him to pick her up. Connie was slowly drifting back into slumber, wondering if Sasha was home yet, but he just decided he would check on her in the morning.
After the accident, Sasha was rushed to the hospital, the first responders holding onto the last signs of life in the youthful 23 year old's face. When they made it there, she went through so many procedures just to keep her blood pumping, but Sasha remained unconscious in a coma for three days before her parents finally decided it was time to end her suffering. Every single one of those days Connie sat next to her bedside, talking to her- or rather at her- about food, and the latest episode of her favorite cooking shows. When he couldn’t be with her, he was sitting in the waiting room, dreading that one of the doctors would come out and say that she was gone sooner or later. Jean, Marco, Mikasa, Armin and every single one of their friends came to visit at least once a day, feeling a feeling of responsibility for what happened.
But no one felt as bad as Connie. Connie felt such guilt that it physically started to hurt him. He didn’t care that the tiny cold he had the night of became worse, nobody noticed, they assumed the eyebags, headaches, coughing, etc. was from the sadness. But that wasn’t it, Connie’s body felt weaker, and deep down he knew that it wasn’t just from the grief. He wasn’t eating, nor sleeping. His mind was either racing or completely shut off, both scaring the boy. The lack of thoughts would make him dissociate. The mind racing would give him extreme headaches, as it every word- every syllable- hurt to think.
When Sahsa’s parents decided to take her off the life supports, Connie couldn’t yell and scream about how they couldn’t do that to her- to him- he couldn’t cry, he couldn’t even breathe. As soon as the doctors finally announced her death, Connie’s vision blurred out, his ears rang, and suddenly he couldn’t feel his body. He fell to the ground, shaking, but not able to move a muscle.
He didn’t show up to her funeral, being induced in the hospital days before from the exhaustion and illness he let consume his body. He wasn’t upset about the missing it. He knew Sasha would have hated it. He knew the specific way Sasha wanted her death remembered, scratch that, she wanted her death to be celebrated. Sasha had told him that she wanted there to be a feast. She wanted there to be her poppy, electric playlist to be blasted on speakers. She wanted people to laugh, not cry. She wanted her life to be celebrated, not just remembered.
Mikasa knew her wishes too. She also knew Connie needed someone as much as she did after this happened, so she stayed with him. She stayed by his side as long as she could. Sometimes she would talk if she felt like she needed to fill the clear void of the bubbly, food obsessed brunette that was always skipping around them. Other times she was silent, letting the void speak for itself, fill the air with memories. There was even a day they broke down together.
Mikasa sat on a chair next to Connies bed, resting her head on his leg and scrolling through her phone, as Connie was trying to follow along with whatever soap opera the hospital had on the small TV in the corner of his room. One of the characters had just done something utterly stupid, prompting a recently rare laugh from Connie.
“Hey! Sasha lo-“ his laughter died down, and he looked over to Mikasa, who had moved her head off of his leg, her eyes wide and her posture tensed. “Mikasa“ Connie whispered, almost in shock to see her instead of Sasha.
“Connie“ Neither realized it, but both had tears dripping down their faces.
“How could I forget?“ Connie asked breathlessly.
Mikasa tried to comfort him, but failed, causing a loud gasp before sobs racked the porcelain skinned girl. After hearing Mikasa’s cries, Connie feels as if he is suffocating. He tugs Mikasa over to him and into his chest and rests his head on her shoulder, which he realizes are bonier than usual.
Not a word was said after that, both sobbing, sniffeling, silently begging for her back. They needed comfort, but who could comfort you after you lose your best friend?
Now Connie sat at the desk in his small apartment, trying to focus on the work in front of him. He was anxious today, though he was most days, but today he was suffering more, with the loss of his best friend, it just brought up past feelings, feelings Connie knew all to well. The feeling of a gaping hole in his chest, slowly but surely consuming the man that he was before. He knew he needed to get better. Get better for her. Get better for himself. Get better for Mikasa and Jean and his boss, and everyone else in his life that saw him as a comedic person who never takes things seriously. That’s who he wanted to be right now. The old person everyone knew, the old person he made himself become.
After no success came from staring at his work until his brain magically started to feel better, Connie grabbed his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and went out the door. He couldn’t care less about the food stains on his sweatpants and shirt, or the untied laces of his sneakers, or the fact that his eye bags were so prominent, you’d think he was wearing makeup.
He couldn’t care less. So he left, walking, jogging, until he started running. He ran until his lungs burned, and sweat poured from him despite it being a chilly night, he ran until his face turned red and his heart felt as if it was going burst out of his chest at any moment.
It wasn’t until moments later he realized that he ran to the middle of nowhere, also now realizing the phone he was so very dependent on was not on him. He thought he was screwed.
#aot#Connie Springer#attack on titan modern au#angst#Sasha Braus#Connie#connie springer x reader#mikasa ackerman#mikasa#sasha#connie x reader
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double double miya style: the epilogue
☁️a/n☁️ here we are, at the end of another series. writing this hit home extra hard since i’ve gone through something similar the last couple of months. but enough about me. please enjoy the final installment of double double, miya style: the series.
cw: implicit character deaths
“i still remember when we brought you home from this same hospital.”
“seems like it was so long ago. you were all just little babies that barely fit in our arms.”
three of the younger adults standing around the room shake their heads asynchronously.
"don't embarrass us like that, mom," ryuki says despite the sad smile spreading across his face.
"what's wrong with being a little nostalgic? we're all family here."
“speaking of which, where is your sister?”
“she said she was gonna be a little late since practice ran long. you know how it is for d1 athletes getting ready for the olympics,” ryo pipes up, pocketing his phone. “it’s a good thing we close shop on sundays.”
“and whose genius idea was that?”
“oh, shut up about taking credit already, umi,” hana teases, shutting the door behind her. “we get it, you have a degree in business management.”
“it only took him three major changes to finally make up his mind,” her twin quips without missing a beat.
“yea well, better late than never. ryo wouldn’t have been able to run both branches without me. he’s only good in the kitchen. not as good as my wife, of course, but good enough to keep customers coming, i suppose,” takumi places a sweet kiss on her lips and pulls away with a smile.
“that’s not what your boys said last time they stopped by for lunch, right, little dudes?” ryo leans down to offer his three identical nephews each a fist bump in turn.
“don’t try to steal my boys. my precious niece and nephew will get jealous.”
“it’s okay, uncle takumi. we’re used to it by now.”
“yea, at least dad can feed us properly.”
“hey! i can cook some stuff,” takumi huffs.
the two brothers who lay in their beds chuckled weakly as they listen to the familiar squabble, drawing the attention of the family around them. their gazes turned from amused to sad as their wives, children, and grandchildren took in their time-withered forms.
“anyway, i don’t know how you guys manage your busy jobs on top of your home lives. i just barely figured out how to balance work with my relationship. i mean, it does help that they’re on the team with me.”
“i mean, dad did it,” ryo points out, slinging his arms around his adopted children happily. “so did uncle tsumu.”
“exactly.” takumi’s boys swat at his hands mussing their hair, uncaring of their father’s soft smile. “but i can’t imagine how you do it as a single dad.”
“i had a lot of help before the divorce. she was just set on a different path from me, but she was still an amazing mother.”
“i’m sure you’d make a great mom, too, hana,” ryuki says. “huh, sweetie?” his wife nods in agreement, bouncing their young daughter in her arms. “though, being an exhibit curator for the museum lets me work from home most days. can’t really imagine the volleyball association could figure out a way for you to do the same.”
“yea, but i don’t think i’ll be ready for a family any time soon anyway.”
“you know,” atsumu takes you all by surprise when he croaks out his advice, waving away all of the concern when his frail body racks with coughs. “i didn’t think i was either. but when your mom told me she was pregnant, i was over the moon. nothing in the world made me happier than when you and your brother were born. look at you now. i couldn’t have asked for better kids.”
his words bring more tears to the eyes in the room than the retired setter knows, his wife taking his hand in hers and resting her forehead against it as her shoulders shake with sobs. not one to be outdone, his brother peels his eyes open to glance around the room before settling on his own sons and their kids.
“and i couldn’t have left the shop in better hands either. i’m glad you took your time to figure out what you wanted to do with your lives. you’ve made me so proud,” osamu reaches out to run his thumb under his wife’s eye, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “we did good, love.”
her hands come up to clasp his against her wet cheek, “we sure did. do you still remember what their first words were?”
osamu shuts his eyes again and hums, “it was one word with a joint effort. and it just had to be onigiri of all things.”
“samu would not shut up about it for weeks,” his older twin makes chuckles rise around the room.
“you weren’t much better when hana first said ‘dada,’ tsumu,” he scoffs.
“at least ryuki made my whole year when he made ‘mama’ his first word.”
“remember when dad taught us how to make onigiri for mother’s day?”
“at least one of us picked up the culinary skills that run in our family.”
“and between us two, one of us got the more athletic genes, too.”
“i’m happy with my simple life and job and family, thank you very much. besides, i distinctly remember being way better than you at volleyball when we were growing up.”
“that’s not what i remember! you sucked at serving, ryu! you’d always hit the net during youth club practice.”
“nuh uh!”
“you know, i think i remember the same thing, hana.”
“why are you all ganging up on me?”
between the bickering and the reminiscing, only their wives notice the content smiles spreading across the oldest twins’ faces, each of them grasping their hands tightly as tears stream ceaselessly down their weathered cheeks. and only they hear the words whispered their husbands’ parting breaths.
“i had the better life.”
xv. || mlist
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Crying In The Club .8
Yandere!Overhaul x F!Reader
*Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3* *Part 4* *Part 5* *Part 6* *Part 7* *Part 8*
Warnings: Yandere overhaul, angst, non-consensual touching, blood & gore, torture, death, sassy reader, some sexual references
A/N: Yeah It gets kinda gruesome in this chapter so lol. But as a warning I will put a warning *GORE* before it truly begins. I was just in the mood for some good old gore.
Taglist
@hello-lucky-luka @winchester-wifey
~~~
Another meeting, another hour of torture. You couldn’t believe it. After 6 months of being with your boyfriend, thinking all the horror was gonna end, you were dragged back into the devils lair. Not only was he actually a sociopath but this man fully believed that he could convince you to love him. As if.
How could you love someone who hurt you in horrific ways? He lowered your self esteem until it was practically nothing by the time he let you go. You had only gotten it back a little bit when (????) came into the picture. You couldn’t help but cry the night you were brought back here. How could you be happy knowing the one person you felt safe with was dead all because of some psychotic man who believed you were his.
A gloved hand on your thigh ripped you out of your thoughts. You tried not to tense up and show that the feeling was unwelcomed. Which it was. You felt his thumb rub up and down your thigh while he was talking to some random crime boss. You looked around the room uncomfortable as you were the only woman in the entire area. It felt as if all eyes were on you. They were undressing you with their eyes. You could tell by the way the two younger men that licked their lips were looking you up and down. It seems that you recognize many of these people from when you use to go to the meetings before you left.
It looked like many of the older men had learned their lesson since not one of them looked in your direction. But the younger men seemed to be new. You refused to show weakness and go crawling to Overhaul for some sort of safety. So you decided to do the next best thing. Show them that you weren’t gonna stand to be looked at like prey.
“Can you two men stop looking at me like Im a piece of meat? This is a professional meeting and you acting anything less then professional. Plus I’m taken.” You cross your arms while glaring at the two men with hatred. Everyone was silent as they all looked at you. Surprised you had said anything. You weren’t going to let some horny men look at you like that.
“You know Overhaul, you should teach her not to say anything. This is a professional meeting after all.”
“Pfft, professional meeting? Last time I was in a meeting like this, all you disgusting men couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. Shame your guys wives doesn’t know your checking out younger women.” You smirk. Idiots be wearing wedding bands on their fingers. Listen you were no mobster but its pretty common sense to not show any weakness. Especially something as crucial as a wife or husband.
No one said a word. You stood your ground, you showed you weren’t afraid of these people. But you weren’t gonna lie, You were bat shit terrified. All these men were so much bigger then you were.
‘Keep the confident front! Don’t show any fear!’
“How did you-”
“The wedding bands on your fingers.” All the men looked at their fingers realizing you had caught them. They then looked at you before they grumbled. Well everyone except the two younger men.
“Well sweets we don’t have any wedding bands. Hey Overhaul, you willing to sell that pretty thing over there?” Your eyes widen. Did these men really think you were just some toy to be pawned off? You did not miss this at all. In fact you fuckin hated this.
Before you could growl at them Kai had sen’t them a glare. He grabbed your hip and brought you in between his legs. His right arm snaking around your waist.
“No she’s not for sale. Let’s continue this meeting before I lose my temper.” Well this did not go the way you thought it would hot damn.
~~~
You sit on the couch near the back door. Watching as the older men leave with their tails in between their legs. Even if you would never admit it, Kai is much younger then most of these men. So if they were to fight him, they wouldn’t have a good chance in fighting. But the younger men, you don’t know for sure. Speaking of them you didnt see them leave the compound.
“Miss (Y/N), Overhaul had requested your presence in the basement.” Your breathing hitched as a feeling of dread washed your entire body. What did you do? You had only been back for 3 days! You couldn’t have done-
Oh yeah.
‘How could I completely forget about how I just dissed those men. Oh im so mega fucked.’ You breath lowly in fear of what would happen to you. Damnit you should have just been quiet and took it. Now you were gonna feel his wraith. Why did you do that?
You follow the man towards the basement where you heard Kai’s voice talking to someone. Was it Hari? No couldn’t be. Hari’s voice held a bit more of a sweeter tone. At least to you. This voice was similar but you couldn’t put a finger on where you heard it before. Think, think, think damnit-
The to men from the meeting.
Your eyes grow wide as you walked down the stairs and heard the door close behind you. The creaking of the wooden stairs seem to ring in your ears as your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. Your legs jelly as you fear what you might see. What could Kai be doing to those men? Even if they were a little creepy they had probably learned their lesson when Kai had screamed at them when you were leaving the room after the meeting.
Once your feet met the concrete floor of the basement your eyes wide at the sight before you.
****GORE****
Right in front of you was the 2 men, tied in chairs, face bloody. You could have sworn some of their teeth were missing.
“Aw my lovely angel. Look, now they can never say anything to you. They don’t deserve to see your beauty. I’m proud of you for showing me which disgusting creatures were looking at you.” Kai said as he up behind you. He settled his chin on the top of your head. You see his beak coming off from the top of your head. His hands rubbing your shoulders gently, moving his thumbs in circular patterns.
“You stupid bitch! Were in here because of you-”
“(R/N) cut of their tongues. No one speaks to my angel in such a way.” You gasped as you backed up. Trying to escape the scene that was about to unfold. But you couldn’t Kai had grasped your chin and made you watch as a subordinate of his grabbed the tongue of one of the men before a sickening rip followed as the other man screamed. Blood gushed out of his mouth as the man coughed. Struggling not to choke on his own blood.
The other man suffered the same fate followed by the familiar rip. Tears were rushing down your eyes as you felt bile rise up in the back of your throat. Kai looked down at you and saw the tears and gushed out of your eyes.
“Aw angel why are you crying? Is it because you know they’ll never say such vile things to you again? Your welcome for protecting you.” Kai softly spoke as he nudged his head in between your shoulders. You felt like you were watching a horror film but in 3D.
The mens blood covered the tops of their shirts as they cough it all up. The men looked on the verge of passing out. One of them looked at you with a glare causing you to lift up your arms to cover your eyes. Your lip quivering in fear as you hear a pop and the gurgling screams of the men in front of you.
3 more pop sounds came and you were flinching every time one pop had came. You move your fingers to the side and see the men with their eyes gauged out of their sockets.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You vomited all over the ground as the men screamed even louder. You couldn’t see it. You didn’t want to see it. You were about to run out of the room before you slipped on your on vomit and hit your head against the concrete floor.
~~~
You open your eyes only to be greeted by a blinding white light. You move your arm to cover it so your eyes don’t sting. You flutter your eyes a bit before looking around your room. A pure white room that looked like a hospital room. You groaned. Was it all just a bad dream? I mean you did go to the hospital the day before you got kidnapped again.
You smile a bit, thinking it was all but just a dream. You could go back to your loving boyfriend, you could eat with him and just enjoy his presence. You missed him dearly. The thought of him got your heart pumping harder and harder. You couldn’t wait to see his cheeky smile and that cute little mole on his chin.
Just as you were about to get up from the bed and go home, your thoughts were snapped when you heard the familiar voice of your captor. That meant that this wasn’t a dream. No, this was a living nightmare. You hadn’t dreamed this, it was real. Your boyfriend was dead and you were still in the clutched of the devil himself.
You let out a little whimper when you moved your head a bit. You gently touch the side of your head wincing at the pain. The sudden thoughts of what happened earlier scratched into your head. You shiver at the thought of what else could’ve happened while you were out.
“Ah my darling angel, your finally awake. Is your head okay? Nasty gash you had. Since you fell in your own vomit I had to give you a bath. I never thought you would be even more beautiful then you already were.” Your eyes widen. He had changed you?! That means he saw everything! EVERYTHING!
Your cheeks grew red in embarrassment as you try and turn your head away. Only for Kai’s gloved hand to bring your face back to his.
“Aw my angel, don’t be embarrassed now. It’s not like I will never see you like that again. Trust me my love, one day you’ll be crying my name.”
#overhaul x reader#kai chisaki x reader#mha#bnha#overhaul#overhaul angst#chisaki overhaul#mha overhaul#kai#shie hassaikai#kai chisaki#mha angst#bnha angst
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