#but it came roaring back into this moment in my life where I kinda fucking need the unadulterated tragedy
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Superstition: Chapter 1
Namor x oc/reader (female)
(Currently PG-13, but likely heading towards very adult content, so read with that in mind.)
A/N: So, ya'll liked the teaser, eh? Here's a full chapter!
Tagging: Tags break my post, but I reply to comments on each new chapter when I post. Think of it as a personal, hand-written note.
Chapter 1
They said women of her kind should never touch the sea before they fell in love, that they’d lose their hearts to the waves. A forfeit to destiny or some such shit.
It was an old wives’ tale. A superstition.
But as the car careened towards the edge of the pier, rocketing over splintered wood without a hope of stopping before it hit the water, she kinda wondered if it was true. Just a little bit. The idea popped into her head like a bubble, random association as her brain fizzled through shock. Pain. Panic.
A bullet caught the driver’s side window, and it exploded in a rain of glass. Flinching away with closed eyes, she instinctively threw an arm across the wheezing, blue-skinned child in the passenger seat. The wheel jerked with the motion, and the car went over the side of the pier.
Freefall stole her belly, her sense of time, her understanding of gravity.
She had a suspended moment of clarity to reflect on her life choices, on her chances of surviving all this. In summary: she was an idiot, she missed her brothers, and she would not be seeing this adventure to its end.
None of it mattered. She had to escape, and she wasn’t about to leave the little girl with her big, terrified eyes floating in the tank beside her cell. Fuck that. The car, the pursuit, and the bullets were probably inevitable, anyway. At least she’d get the kid back somewhere she could breathe.
One of them would make it out alive.
And she’d rather bleed out from the bullet she’d caught than end her days in that cage. Or under a curious surgeon’s knife.
Better to give the ocean her heart.
They hit the water, and all was pain again. Saltwater gushed through the broken window, and the waterline climbed up the windshield much faster than she’d anticipated. But the kid looked better already. Less blue where the water swallowed her legs and chest.
Unlocking the girl’s seatbelt, she grabbed her by the arm, dragged her across her lap, and started stuffing her out the window. Hopefully she wouldn’t cut herself on the glass, but she needed to be out of the vehicle and on her way out to sea before the men with guns left their cars and started spraying the water.
“Go. Go on.” The water lapped up to kiss her chin, and ominous bubbles billowed from under the hood. She only had a few more good breaths before the car went under. “Get out of here, go.”
The kid reached through the window, pulling her arm, like she could return the favor. Scrambling to unlock her own seatbelt, she shook her head, trying to push the girl away. “I’m fine! Go!”
But as she tried to work the seatbelt free, she realized with dawning horror that the button wasn’t working. The mechanism must’ve jammed in the crash. She was anchored to her seat, and it was sinking fast.
“Fuck.”
She tipped her head back, neck straining as the surface moved up, and up, and over her face. Salt burned her eyes, and she barely saw anything beyond vague shapes in the dark water. The only light came from the full moon, and that was dwindling fast as gravity pulled her deeper. She ran her hands over the console, along the side of her seat, and along the edge of the window, looking for a shard large enough to cut herself free. But the window had shattered into diamond-sized fragments. Nothing big enough to save her.
The pressure roared in her ears, the ache bad enough to draw tears – not that she or anyone else could recognize them in this salty hell.
By the time car settled on the seafloor, about a dozen yards below the surface, she could see a faint cloud of red leaking from her side, and her brother’s taunting voice rang in her memory. “Don’t go swimming with a papercut or the water will get in, and it will get infected, and you will die.”
Well. This was no papercut, and she probably wouldn’t live long enough to get an infection, but she probably would die.
Wouldn’t he be so pleased to have been right?
She wanted him. She wanted all of her brothers. If any of the bastards shook her awake and laughed at her for being a big baby crying in her sleep she’d hug them, thank them, and never run off alone again. Or. She’d at least try. She’d really, really try.
She’d do anything.
Danu.
She didn’t want to die alone.
Thrashing in her seat, pinned as the burn in her lungs turned into frantic spasms, she clawed at the safety belt poised to end her life. Her chest was on fire. Her head felt like it might explode. How long before she broke? Before she had to breathe anything at all, even water?
Little hands clamped around her wrist, tugging.
And the damn fish kid still hadn’t left.
Fucking fuck.
The child was trying to say something. Her voice carried through the water, but she didn’t recognize the language, and it wasn’t like she could answer. Bubbles crept out her nose and she gestured out, away, towards deep water where the kid could escape their pursuers.
Shadows interrupted the moonbeams dancing over the wreck.
Gunfire, muted by the water, just barely cut through the thump of her heartbeat in her ears.
Another good tug on the seatbelt. Nothing.
She didn’t mean to open her mouth.
But she did. And the last of her air rose to stick on the roof of the sunken car in uneven bubbles. Her diaphragm jerked, inviting the sea into her lungs. It didn’t feel like water. It coursed through her like lava, an alien pressure with the soothing touch of an electrical burn.
Every limb took on a life of its own, a last ditch animal reaction to scramble for oxygen. A slow-motion blur of terror and agony as her brain shut down.
The last thing she felt was the seat belt’s sudden release, weightlessness, and hands on her shoulders.
Hands much too large to be a child’s.
----------------------------------------------
She dreamt of cold and dark. The maw of the ocean rising to swallow her as a jellyfish pasted itself over her face.
She dreamt of fire in her lungs and strangers’ voices as swirling black swallowed the moon and stars. No lights to guide her home. No wind to breathe.
Sinking.
Drowning – in water or in air. It didn’t matter.
Shivers quaked through her half-conscious mind as she floated towards awareness, and a sharp pain nearly brought her round. Fingers pushing through the hole in her side conjured iron on her tongue, and she writhed against the weight of hands pushing her down.
But she didn’t wake enough to hear her own screams, though they burned in her throat, and she drifted again.
Soft voices carried through the grey. She didn’t understand them, but a matronly hand pressed to her forehead once, blessedly cool against the fever turning her body into a cauldron. Thick wrinkles and shushing whispers. When it left, she might’ve cried, but without strength to reach for the hand, she could only sink back from the edge of light.
The dark promised peace. Quiet. Recovery or a final end, she wasn’t sure, and if she could resist, she would. She’d call for her brothers, swim back to them, find a grip and never let go again.
But she had nothing left beyond nightmares.
She was a child again, bare feet along the cool stone of a rath’s passage – a fortress made a home, full of places to explore and trouble to find. Tired of her brothers and her cousins, she followed the dim hall alone to the golden light of the crafting room.
“Máthair?”
Her mother’s work always inspired reverence. Her dexterous fingers wove the future, capturing fate and fortune in her patterns. At play, over breakfast, when she tucked her children in at night, the stately woman with whisps of grey threading stories through her hair was Mam. At the loom, she was the Weaver, and a Weaver deserved respect, so right now she was Máthair.
Máthair made the most beautiful things. Told the most beautiful stories. Wise men turned to her for advice, like her father, and strong men followed her words in war, like her biggest brother. She listened because the Weaver was her Mam, and Mam loved her children very much, even at her loom.
“Here, Caoimhe.” Her Máthair took her little fingers and pressed them against a silver line dancing between colorful strings. A moonbeam, or a wave, alive and whispering a tale in a voice like her own. She bit her lip, smiling as she traced it, oh-so-careful not to snag the delicate pattern with her broken nails – she played hard, and her brothers played harder.
“This is your thread, a stór. Do you like it?”
“Yes, Máthair.”
But as she spoke, the thread wobbled under her touch, turning wet. An ocean seeped free, pouring from the line like a waterfall, and she took a quick step back, gasping in her high, childish voice as the water pooled quick and cold around her ankles.
The rest of the woven threads burst into flame, and the whole piece peeled off the loom, sinking with churning bubbles as the water rose.
“Mam?”
She looked, but her Máthair, her Mam, had disappeared, and when she turned back to the loom, it had gone, too, replaced with a windshield webbed in cracks.
Trapped. Sinking.
Bubbles rose like a wall, screaming in a discordant choir as they climbed towards the surface, more ghosts than air.
She whined, tugging on her seatbelt as her hands became a woman’s again, and she called for help.
“Deartháireacha!”
Salt water sloshed past her open lips, and she choked, pleading.
“Cabhair liom.”
No one heard, and the sea rushed in, eager to claim its forfeit. It would serve her heart to sharks and sea lice, to the blind things in the deep, deep dark that didn’t know of the sun, or the moon, or the stars. Her family would never find her bones, and her soul would be lost to those sunless places, crushed and alone forever.
The water closed over her. The world turned blue.
And she opened her eyes.
The fish girl sat beside her, a transparent mask over her nose and mouth like the jellyfish she’d dreamed of. Once she realized Caoimhe was awake, the kid snatched her hand from where it rested in a … hammock?
Bouncing on her feet, holding Caoimhe’s hand in both of hers, she chanted, “Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!”
Which was interesting because she knew for a fucking fact the girl didn’t speak a lick of English before the accident. She’d tried entertaining her when they were trapped, and she tried explaining her plan when they fled, but no one could fake the blank, confused expression she earned for her efforts.
How long had she been asleep? Or was she still unconscious? Was this the figure her subconscious had chosen to guide her towards the afterlife?
Half convinced she was still dreaming, she croaked a raspy, “Hello,” of her own, and the flinching pain finally convinced her she’d really, truly woken.
In a hammock.
With the fish girl.
Who suddenly spoke English.
The fuck?
Nothing else in the space made any more sense. It looked like a cave, full of stalactites and stalagmites, some of which looked like they’d grown more or less naturally into screens. Or bars.
Another cage?
Just as her breath caught on a hiccup of fear, figures moved on the other side of the apparent bars and opened a door. They looked like the kid. Blue-skinned, wearing the gelatinous face mask and similar clothes. Two women and a man. She thought she recognized the wrinkled skin on the elder woman’s hands, and when she settled one of those hands on Caoimhe’s forehead, she was sure of it.
The woman smiled, pleased by whatever she’d found. When her hand dropped, Caoimhe checked her head herself, like she’d grown letters there she could read with her fingertips.
Had she developed a fever maybe…?
While her hand was by her head, she checked to see if her hair still covered her ears. It did. Thank Danu. She lowered her arm back to her side before anyone noticed.
The woman – the kid’s grandmother? – addressed the other two adults, and a drop of relief soothed their tight expressions. Though hardly relaxed, the good news lifted at least one of their many concerns, and they hurried to move forward.
“It’s good you’re awake.” The younger woman brought a stool beside the hammock, and the child rested her head against the woman’s knee as she sat. “We did not know if your fever would break.”
“Thank you,” Caoimhe said in her rough voice. Had she screamed a lot in her sleep, or was it a consequence of drowning? “For pulling me out of the water.”
Very carefully, she sat up, mindful of the pull in her side where the bullet hit. Something soft and a little slick rubbed over her skin, wrapped tight to her wound, but she couldn’t bring herself to look. Not yet. She didn’t want to see the damage. She didn’t want to see some strange thing she didn’t understand holding her together. Not yet.
The light, she realized, came from overhead. Glowworms. They cast an eternal twilight through the space, and she swallowed reflexively, wondering what in the fuck she’d gotten herself into.
“Where…” She looked back to the woman, probably the child’s mother. “Where are we?”
Inclusive language. Non-accusatory. No need to ruffle any feathers. Great damn need to orient herself, though.
Stiffening even as she tried to keep her face placid, the woman shook her head softly, saying, “I will do my best to answer your questions, but our king must speak with you first.”
Her turn to stiffen. Her breathing kicked up a notch, and she wrestled against the urge to hyperventilate.
The time had come to talk of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot.
She’d never heard of these people. They dressed in a fashion she might call Mayan, but she’d never heard of blue folk who breathed water, and she was getting the terrible, pressured sensation of being underwater. Like the ceiling would crack and the entire ocean would drop on her head at any second.
The little girl, still holding her hand, must’ve noticed her pulse jump, and she asked something in her parents’ language. The woman put a reassuring hand on her wrist, just above her daughter’s double grip.
“You saved our child. Our king will explain. Then we will talk.”
Caoimhe floundered, wincing as she strained to rise. “Can I – can I get up for this?”
The woman had eyes like Caoimhe’s oldest brother. A warrior’s eyes, looking within while analyzing without. She listened to the reason behind the question, the request for assistance, the desire to face their king out of bed, with a little more dignity and control than she’d find in the hammock.
Nodding, she rose from the stool and supported Caoimhe’s elbow. “Here.”
The woman helped her up, assuring she wouldn’t fall as she used her legs for the first time in…? As she gained her balance and cautiously assumed the seat with the little girl mirroring her mother’s support with much less efficacy under her other arm, the old woman Caoimhe assumed was the grandmother swooped a blanket over her shoulders, murmuring something under her breath.
Smirking, the mother said, “My mother says you look cold.”
Was she? She looked down and found gooseflesh creeping down her arms. Sometime between her rescue and recovery, they’d changed her into a simple white dress like the women of the family wore. Now that she mentioned it, she could definitely feel the damp air of the cave leeching heat from her skin. She’d been too uncomfortable to notice much besides the thrumming ache in her side and the fear stewing in the back of her thoughts.
“Thank you.”
The woman nodded again, but Caoimhe had a point to make. If things went poorly with their king, as the mother’s posture suggested it might, she wanted to make sure they knew she appreciated what they’d already done for her. “Really. Thank you. All of you.”
Regret flashed through the mother’s expression, followed by a wave of steely determination. She set her hands on Caoimhe’s shoulders, demanding her focus before she spoke. “We will speak again soon.”
Already feeling the weight of her own body, worn out by the effort of sitting up, she conserved her strength. She took her cue from the woman, nodding her agreement.
The woman straightened, her hands slipping away, and Caoimhe pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. Physical proof she wasn’t alone, that someone in this place wished her well. It immediately became the first comfort blanket she’d indulged in since she was six. Maybe, like that one, woven through with her mother’s magic, it would keep her safe.
The family left, and she summoned an anemic smile for the little girl before her parents towed her around the corner and out of sight. They closed the door as they went, and she sat in the cell, shivering and focusing on her breaths.
In and out.
Still alive.
In and out.
Lost.
Her breath caught. Fell out of rhythm.
Out and in.
At a stranger’s mercy.
Her half-drowned thoughts from the sinking car echoed in the present. She didn’t want to die. Not alone. Not so far from her family, her only real home. She wanted Eóghan to cluck over the bullet wound and put her together while Aodhfin called her twenty kinds of stupid. She even craved Dara’s disappointed glower, the weight of his brows dipping low with responsibility as he tried to express the gravity of the situation. Explaining everything she might’ve lost, what that would mean for the ones she loved.
And now she’d gone and lost herself, and once again she sent up silent prayers full of promises she knew she couldn’t keep.
Danu, Mother, let me go home and I’ll never wander again. I will be calm and still and –
The door opened.
Her heavy thoughts had pulled her eyes to the floor, and she jerked to attention, startled to find a man watching her from the entrance to the cell.
His golden skin lacked the blue tint the kid and her family had out of the water. His ears narrowed to sharp points, and when he continued into the space, she saw the wings on his ankles.
Even without the heavy ornamentation he wore, he was every inch a king. Tall. Proud. So confident in his control of the situation he took a second stool and sat across from her.
No need to tower. To posture.
She was no threat, and he wanted her to know.
“What is your name?”
An inquisition, then. Not a friendly chat. Not yet at least. His measured tone left no room for anything but a truthful answer.
Fortunately, she had no good reason to withhold her name. The mother had given her the impression everything would be alright if she cooperated. She could give this much.
“Caoimhe.”
His chin angled up, and though he didn’t say it out loud, she could see him repeating her name in his head.
“My people call me K’uk’ulkan.”
A name she’d seen on paper. Never heard aloud. She remembered finding it in old books of mythology Dara collected. He always said their people were proof there was more to legend than empty stories. The name belonged to a fierce entity, something to be worshipped. More than a king, then.
The man named for a god observed her, gave her a moment to process what she clearly knew. Then he let the other name fall.
“My enemies call me Namor.”
The sharp dichotomy disturbed her, and she recalled the concern in the mother’s eyes. A diplomatic policy dividing the world into those he was sworn to protect and those he had reason to kill did not leave much room for negotiation. It also explained why she’d never heard of his people beyond the faintest trace of myth.
She tried not to pull away. Tried not to let her shoulders bow in an attempt to look smaller. She was what she was. She couldn’t change for this king. She shouldn’t give him the impression she could be forced to.
“And anyone else?”
His eyebrows lifted, and his eyes pierced hers. A note of challenge. “There is no one else.”
“Where does that leave me?” She often played word games with her brothers. It was fun to twist the truth to dance over a lie, to angle shadow and light in new ways across old ideas. But this wasn’t a game, and she needed answers. In all her years of play, she’d learned the bluntest tools sometimes made the best weapons. “Last I checked, I don’t turn blue.”
His tone didn’t change – this was still very much a matter of life and death – but cool amusement glittered in his eyes. “Where do you think that leaves you, surface dweller?”
She shifted, not quite squirming, keeping her eye on him. Holding still never came naturally to her, and now it was absolutely draining. He definitely noticed, and she hated it. “I’m not dead yet. Someone’s gone to great lengths to keep me that way.”
He flashed a grin, and she found he had a charming smile. Ridiculously charming, considering the circumstances. His confidence here was not at all a show. The consequences of this interaction would not touch him long, and he could afford to treat her blithely.
“Not such great lengths, but yes. Atziri wouldn’t leave your side, and her mother is one of my warriors. She argued it was a matter of honor, so I pulled you from the wreck, and her family has cared for you.”
He’d given her more information than the child’s family seemed comfortable giving. That was something. “The kid’s name is Atziri?”
A drop of warmth swam through the amusement in his eyes. Either he approved of the question, or the girl had carved out a soft spot in her king’s heart.
“Yes.”
“I’m glad she’s alright.”
It wasn’t a ploy. She was genuinely glad. Just as she would’ve been genuinely pissed if anything happened to the girl after she lost consciousness. Dying a hero and dying an idiot rode the same thread of fate.
The king huffed, white teeth gleaming as he only half-repressed his laugh. “She is much… hardier than you.”
Rude.
But probably true.
“Of course, I couldn’t help noticing you’re no ordinary surface dweller.”
Two long fingers reached out towards her face, and – bemused – she let them. She didn’t understand what he wanted, what he was doing. She hadn’t hurt her face as far as she knew, and her puzzled frown grew as the fingers passed her cheek –
And smoothed back her hair to touch the delicate point of her ear.
Fight or flight instincts carried her out of the conversation and a few steps across the cell before his hand could lower – or touch her again.
Her back met the wall as her stool clattered to the floor. Not nearly far enough. The damn stone felt maliciously designed, like the glass of the laboratory cell. And of course it was. There were bars, weren’t there? This was a prison.
Her heart kicked in her chest, the extra oxygen and adrenaline flooding her system as muscles tensed for a fight and her vision narrowed to the immediate threat.
He hadn’t moved. Hand still suspended, he drank in her reaction, studying her in a new light with a determined focus that swallowed the scraps of playful warmth he’d shown before. She told him things. With her wild eyes. Her desperate breaths. Her swift and sudden fear at being noticed. At being found out.
Clearly, he knew the ways of hidden things. He followed a very different path to secrecy, but one of his own ended up in the same hands that took Caoimhe, so even if they followed different routes, they forded the same rivers. They faced the same obstacles. The same consequences greeted their mistakes, and this – proving whatever suspicions he already had – must be another misstep.
She’d told him too much, and she rushed to banish her instinctive reaction, to distract from the cool calculations turning in the man’s eyes.
“Do you always touch women without asking permission?”
It was like slamming a door in his face. Don’t look here. Don’t wander in. Recognize you’ve strayed where you are not welcome and take a step back for both our sakes.
And, to her great surprise, he did.
The hand fell so he could rest an elbow on his knee, head tilting a fraction. Mischief twinkled through the curiosity in his eyes. No one with his kind of power should be able to summon such boyish charm. It was damn dangerous.
“May I touch you?” He smiled. A beautiful man used to getting his way.
“No. You may not.” She drew herself up. A determined prisoner prepared to bite anyone who dared breach her consent.
She wasn’t flirting. He might be.
Still grinning, like her diversion was a game he enjoyed, he lifted his hands to his shoulders, palms out, before dropping them to his knees.
She tried to think of a distraction from the distraction. This was not a very safe topic for an injured woman kept behind bars to banter over with a king. When she drew boundaries, only his honor and tastes prevented him from stepping across.
“Atziri greeted me in English when I woke up.”
His grin slowly closed, though a curl lingered at the corner of his mouth. “I ordered her mother to start teaching her. You are her responsibility now, and she must acknowledge that burden.”
Learning one of the least sensical and most unnecessarily complicated languages on the planet wasn’t a short-term investment. He called her a burden. She imagined she could feel the weight of seatbelt across her lap and chest again, anchoring her to the bottom of the sea.
Maybe she didn’t escape her death. This didn’t sound like rescue.
As she came to that realization, he read it in her face.
Once again, she shared too much, and he nodded as her expression fell towards despair.
“There was a choice to make.” His eyebrows lifted, just a little, opening his expression so she could read him in turn. Earnestness. It had been no easy decision, and her situation was urgent. Hadn’t she felt herself slipping towards the world of ghosts?
He continued, lancing the wound so as not to draw out her suffering.
“We could not leave you on the shore. You would be found again, and besides, you’d already seen Atziri.”
She closed her eyes, wondering how she could still breathe as the gravity of his words gathered like rocks in her stomach.
Fine. Danu heard her. She didn’t die alone. But she’d never be with her brothers again. Judging by the cave and the people who needed water to breathe, she’d probably never see the stars again either.
Fucking fuck. This couldn’t be right. It wasn’t what she meant. Not at all. At the gates of death, she wanted her family. She wanted the sun.
This was all wrong.
Her knees buckled. Brought low by physical weakness and the king’s blow to her hope, she sank down the wall.
“You will stay here, the permanent guest of Atziri’s family. They will return the life they owe you, and you will keep Talokan’s secrets.”
Resolute. As hard as the polished jade in his ears. The decision had already been made, and her only choice was whether to let her tears fall now – in front of him – or later – alone. Opening her eyes took courage. And it took skill to pull the water back, to flutter her lashes just so, banishing the drops before they fell.
He approached on his winged feet as she pulled herself together, taking a knee just far enough back to not let her keep her personal space. Apparently he’d learned after touching her ear. He didn’t want to set her off, an unnecessary kindness that looked pallid in the shade of the entire life he’d just taken away. There was compassion in his gaze, but not enough to save her.
“I can always give you a quick death.”
An offer of mercy, but the finality of her only available alternative sent chills flooding down her spine. Under her blanket, she shuddered.
He picked up each hint to her thoughts, collecting the pieces of herself she so carelessly dropped, and grew a new smile.
“Though, after all the time and effort that my people have invested in your recovery, that would be a terrible waste.”
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I think after defeating Ketheric is the first time in the story when I'm letting my boy let his unending kindness.... falter a little bit. Just a little.
Semi-coherent 3 am ramblings under cut.
It seems like almost an "act 2 end" staple for me, but... this "midpoint climax" in many games IS, I feel, the natural point for a lot of good-aligned, well-intentioned protagonists to crack a little, and Arvid is no different.
Like. He just came back from what was essentially his *worst fucking nightmare*, having fought the avatar of a quasi-god (and learned that he's gonna have to do that, oh, two more times, just for funsies), having talked his boyfriend out of exploding himself (which was a very shitty, if short conversation, because apparently Gale is nothing if not easily convinced by the words "choose me, the one who loves you"), and overall having a CONSIDERABLY WORSE THAN AVERAGE TIME FOR THE PAST, OH, SEVERAL DAYS (with the Shadowfell, and the watching allies die left and right, and the GOING BACK TO THE MIND FLAYER FLESH-CABINS WHICH IS FUN), and already everyone wants MORE from him.
You know, as if this whole day wasn't, like, one deeply traumatic experience after the other. As if these past weeks hadn't been pushing him slowly towards a breaking point.
The dream visitor is acting... kinda suspicious and cagey, as per usual (she's dodging questions and speaking in confusing metaphors while doling out insurmountable-seeming tasks, which is just 👍👌🤙🖕), Wyll is immediately having himself a little storytime moment that he probably should have thought to have weeks ago ("btw my eye is a sending stone that enables Mizora the Literal Devil to track my every move" IS KIND OF A BIG DEAL, MAN, YOU COULD HAVE, IDK, MENTIONED THAT SOMETIME OVER THE PAST THREE WEEKS OR SO), Gale is understandably feeling wild and wired after that weird, partially self-imposed near-death experience (which, idk about you, but an "I'm glad we survived babe, are you okay" would have been at least appreciated BEFORE the whole "YO DID YOU SEE THAT POWERFUL ARTEFACT, I WANT IT" thing), everyone in that damn room wants something else from him ("hey, sorry I was an asshole earlier after you saved my life, why don't you help me more! Won't tell you how or why or with what tho!", "hey you're back having done what's supposed to have been impossible, so what's up with Thaniel, the issue you solved literally a week ago already, I wasn't paying attention lol", and the likes, even Withers is being fucking weirder than usual)...! Jaheira and Astarion seem to be the only ones to offer any kind of praise, or optimistic feedback, which is already weird...!!! But the others? "Oh, hey, you're back. So, when are you gonna do that again (or this other, different thing for me)?"
Like... thanks? I guess I'll just go fuck myself then???
The poor boy just wants to take the most intense bath of his life (sit in a lake somewhere for a few hours, get the illithid-sludge off his body and scrub his skin until it's no longer blue but flushed, raw, and purple, maybe then he's going to feel clean again and less *hyper-aware* of the wriggling in his skull), get roaring drunk to at least momentarily forget the monumental task ahead, cuddle up to his dog, owlbear, and/or boyfriend, and go to sleep in a fetal position for the next 48 hours. Maybe cry a little or punch something, he hasn't decided yet.
Just... everyone seems to be forgetting that he's just Some Guy. Even if he turned out to be some chosen one, he's unaware of it. As far as he knows, he's just a random priest from the countryside who only ended up in the city like a year ago because the church there needed a new healer, and suddenly, after getting abducted and his BRAIN wormed, he's everyone's go-to guy for god-killing. He barely knows anyone, has no family (or really friends or personal connections deeper than the superficial outside of the party), nobody misses him where he's from (which is no longer his home, but neither is Baldur's Gate), and he doesn't even know if he's doing the right thing at any given time, messing with forces he doesn't understand. But everyone just wants MORE, and MORE, and MORE, and he's giving more and more, as much as he can, only he's not sure how much more he has left.
So yeah, he's gonna snap at- and be a bit short with Art, even if Halsin doesn't like it. Yeah, he's gonna be a little snide to the cagey gnome that all but told him to fuck off previously. He's gonna be a little impatient towards the skeleton-man doling out poetic brain-teasers for him to solve while he's still bleeding profusely, from several wounds. He's gonna give a couple fewer fucks about Isobel's reunion with her gf after having already figured out who she is (it's. Not like that was a hard feat. Those dots were not particularly hard to connect. He has an intelligence of 10 and he still figured it out.) than he would otherwise. He's, like, happy for them and all, but would be MANY TIMES happier if someone just handed him a sandwich and a glass of water, and said "hey, good job".
I have not yet gone back to camp or left the building after the return last night, but I'm hoping there's gonna at least be a chance to unwind before we'd march on. :/
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Yandere RE8: TRP Part 4
Part 1 is here.
Part 2 is here.
Part 3 is here.
Part 5 is here.
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
"Uhh... hello?"
You looked at the woman standing in the stairs. She was wearing a dark veil that matched the rest of her outfit- oh shit, that's a funeral outfit.
I really did pick a bad time to come here, didn't I? She's in mourning, she sees an intruder, and her day went from bad to worst. Yep, she's gonna kill me.
You took one look at the woman and then at all the possible exits: the doors- no, they'd be too heavy to move and what if they're locked? The window- but I'd have to jump out and just because it looks cool in movies to jump through glass, doesn't mean it'll work, Y/n.
So, the only option was to eliminate the threat. Or maybe... defuse it.
"This is your doll, right?" You asked, pointing at the doll, judging by the lace designs on both of their dresses. The woman didn't reply. "It looks like its been... used a lot. To be honest, she's very different than most dolls I've seen, definitely a lot more spookier." You nervously giggled, hoping she didn't mind. "But... she looks like she's been loved. A lot. Despite being broken from a lot of places, someone still took their time to fix her." You smiled sadly, remembering your own doll that Mia had ripped. "Wish I had someone like that. To sew up the wounds and fix them."You mumbled, not really sure if you were talking about your doll or yourself.
"Your doll, she's- she's very pretty. My sister would've liked her." You began. "Which is why I'm here. My family, we were in an accident- I know it was wrong of me to come here without permission, but I need to find my sister, Rose and my father, Ethan." You took a step closer. "They both of have blonde hair. Rose, my sister, she's just 6 months old. She was dressed in a baby pink onesie, bundled up in a blanket. My father, Ethan, he's about this tall and has big blue eyes. I think he was wearing a jacket, with blue denim jeans. H-have you seen them?" You asked, eyes full of hope and voice laced with eagerness.
Please, please let her have seen them. God, please.
Unsurprisingly, the woman didn't reply, but she did turn her head towards the left window. You didn't know whether she was telling you to get out of her house or signalling that they are out there, but you knew you had to leave.
Nodding, you slowly walked towards the window, your heart beating faster as you prayed that this wasn't some sort of trap, hoping she wouldn't attack you from behind because that would be like... really shitty.
But you left the house unharmed, and without looking back at the window because you didn't want to jinx it, you walked towards the forrest once again, thankful that the sun had finally came out.
Where are you guys?
You had been walking for a couple of hours now, the sun had been a bit warmer today, which was good since you hated the snow that surrounded you now. You looked at the map, tracing the path to your new destination. The Salvatore reservoir. It seemed like it would take you a day's journey to get there, and you sure as hell weren't seeing any lake in sight.
God, when will this nightmare end?
You decided to sit on a stone and take some much needed rest. Your feet ached from all the walking, and your calves were cramping. You rolled your head, popping it from the side, before taking off the rifle that had been weighing down, stretching out your arms. Digging through the little back pack you bought from Duke, you pulled out a thermos of coffee and twinkie. You don't know how or where he got it, but Duke had filled your bag with a couple of snacks; saying its for his loyal customer.
So, here you sat, in the middle of the snowy woods, eating a twinkie and drinking a lukewarm coffee. Both didn't taste good, but they're gonna keep you alive so, no complaining.
After drinking the coffee, you rested your head against a tree, recalling last nights events as you waited for the caffeine to kick in.
You tried to make sense of what happened when you got... locked in the basement. You thought you had forgotten about her, Angel. Guess not.
Wait- didn't that lady lock me in the basement? Maybe, she didn't look very hostile, her creepy doll looked scarier than she did.
You laughed at the irony. You always made fun of the horror movies where the family would become so attached to the most horrifying doll, and you'd scream at their stupidity, And yet here you were, falling for the cliche as you found comfort in that creepy doll.
Man, I'm really losing it here.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to come up with the next plan. But the warm coffee had lulled you right to sleep, which was dangerous but you were too tired to care.
Just for a couple of minutes...
You woke up to the sound of growling and heavy steps. And as soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you had definitely slept for far longer than a few minutes. But that was not of concern at the moment. No, it was the source of the growling that had woken you up.
Just about 40 feet away from you were lycans. Plural. Not one, not two, but 5 lycans, and one of them was a really big one.
You held your breath as you watched them wander around; they hadn't spotted you yet, and if you stayed quiet, you hoped they would just go away.
Stilling yourself as much as you could, you watched them with wide eyes. One of them started to walk in your direction, it wasn't looking at you, which meant that it hadn't seen you, but he would if he kept on walking this way.
God, I know we haven't been on good terms, but like c'mon, you gotta give me a break. Please, I love you? Come on, you know this is not how I want to go.
You sent a silent prayer, and perhaps it worked, since the lycan suddenly turned the other way, joining its pack as they started walking deeper into the woods.
Slowly, you began to gather up your things, silently shoving them in your bag, one eye on the lycans and the other one making sure that you don't accidentally drop something that'd cause noise.
Fortunately, you didn't. You swung the bag over your shoulder, and took a step forward, careful not to step on any twigs.
Maybe God did love me. All that time in church-
THWACK!
You jumped back as a huge sheet of snow fell from the trees in front of you. You whipped your head towards the monsters and they all had stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly, one of them turned and if they hadn't heard the snow fall, they'd definitely heard the way your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Then, it growled.
Motherfucker.
You pulled out your gun just as the two of them began running your way. With a quick jump to the side, you dodged them and shot them two times each. Hearing your gun fire, the other two began running your way too, while the larger one stayed behind as it watched. This time, as you shot one of them, the other managed to kick you in the chest hard, throwing you against the rock. Luckily, you didn't hit your head, as you rolled and shot it dead.
Spitting out the blood, you looked back at the last lycan who had already started running your way. You began loading up your gun with trembling hands, but just as you aimed, the lycan took a giant leap and knocked the gun out of your hand.
Fuck.
The giant grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up high before throwing you across the ground. You wheezed, scrambling up to your feet as you began running away from it, its heavy steps following you. It roared angrily behind you, and that only made you ignore the burning pain in your chest as you ran faster.
But of course, God had decided to make you live a cliche horror movie, because you tripped over a fucking branch, making you fall on your stomach. You flipped over instantly, and saw your nightmare come true as the lycan jumped on you.
On pure reflex, you punched it square in the face, which you doubted hurt it more than it hurt you, if anything, the monster was momentarily perplexed, but that was enough for you to slip from under it.
But you were only able to take a few steps away when it suddenly grabbed you by your neck and lifted you up again, snarling as it began opening its mouth, revealing its razor-sharp teeth at you.
God, if you're hearing this, I'm converting to atheism because I did not need this today.
Looking at the horrifying lycan, you prayed one last time before you were eaten by it. Surprisingly, your life did not flash before your eyes, which you were kinda grateful for because you did not need to relive that before your death.
But that moment didn't came. No, what came were familiar moans of pain, and then the sound of a drill, followed by blood splattering on your face as the lycan was sliced vertically from the head to the toe by the aforementioned drill.
The lycan fell to the ground, revealing the pair of soldats that killed them and behind them a smirking Heisenberg, who rested against a tree, tipping his hat at you.
You were far too shocked to say anything, and after a few seconds, the man walked over to you, blocking the view of his monstrous creations just mutilating the lycans.
"So... that was a bit traumatising." He started, chuckling at your stunned face. "You okay, kid?"
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck-
"Yeah." You took his hand, and he helped you up. You groaned at the pain, touching the tender side around the chest where the lycan had hit you. Yeah, you probably broke a rib.
Heisenberg helped you sit down on a tree stump. "Hmm, that bastard kicked you hard didn't it." Wait- "But that was a phenomenal punch you threw at it. Nearly made me burst out laughing."
"You were watching? Why the fuck didn't you come in before!"
He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you could really handle yourself- which you were pretty good at, but then you lost your gun and it was kinda an unfair match from there on." He pulled out some pills from his coat. "i was just passing by when I saw those lycans moving away. Thats when I pushed the tree which made snow sheet fall and you know the rest from there on."
Your eyes went wide. "You did that on purpose? What the shit, Heisenberg-?! Fuck." You doubled over in pain, clutching your ribs, heaving.
"Shh, stay still, kid. Here, take these. They'll help with the pain." You eyed the bottle before popping two in your mouth. Hey, if he wanted me dead, he wouldn't have saved me from the lycan. "I just wanted to see if you were worth the trouble, and as it turns out, you are."
"You didn't have to almost kill me to see that. And now I've lost my gun. And I don't have any money to buy a new one. I doubt Duke gives freebies." You huffed out.
Heisenberg rolled his eyes. "God, you sure do whine a lot. Here-" He dropped a tiny pouch in your lap. "There's some coins in there. That should be enough to buy you a new gun. And for fucks sake, get a gun with more rounds! You don't have time to be loading a gun mid battle." He huffed. "So, where are you going now?"
You rolled your head from side to side. "Well, I went to the Beneviento house. Didn't find Ethan or Rose there. Now, I'm going to the lake."
"The lake? Huh, well if you survived Donna, then Moreau should be a piece of cake. You got the map? Let me show you the short cut, it's not far from here." You gave him the map and he showed you the directions.
"Where are you going then?"
"Mother Miranda called. Don't worry, I'll keep our meeting a secret." He then nodded at you. "Alright, I'm off now."
"Wait!" Your voice stopped him. "I don't know when I'll see Duke again. And I don't have gun, so what if another pack of lycans come?"
Heisenberg slumped his shoulders as he let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine. I gotta do everything by myself." He dog whistled and one of the soldats stopped maiming the lycan and ran to Heisenberg. "From now on, you're gonna listen to her."The soldat looked at you and nodded. "If she tells you to kill, you kill. If she tells you to die, you die. Follow her around and keep her safe." The soldat nodded. Then Heisenberg turned to you. "He's already dead, so don't worry about throwing him in danger. Oh and also, just take him into the sun every once in a while so that his engine can recharge. You'll know when he needs the sun."
You were baffled. "Wait, Heisenberg- how the- what the hell am I supposed to do with him?"
"Figure it out, kid. Think of him as a guard dog."
You looked at the soldat then at Heisenberg's retreating form, then back at the soldat.
"So..." The soldat stared at you. "You got a name?"
"Handsome." You nodded to yourself as you trudged, using the soldat's arm to support yourself. "That's what I'm gonna call you. Handsome. What do you think?"
The soldat was wearing a metal contraption over its eyes, so you couldn't really tell what it was feeling.
"Well, you don't seem to have any complaints, so from now on, you'll respond to the name "Handsome". Do you understand?"
The soldat nodded.
You laughed. God, the pain meds were either making me stupid or everything else funnier.
You looked at the map again. Just a couple of more minutes and then a right turn. And then you should see the lake- god, this map was confusing as hell.
"So..." you wondered what you should ask the cyborg. Oh right. "You seen Ethan? Blonde man, crazy big eyes. Or a baby, Rose?" The man shook his head no.
Sigh. What else could I ask him? What about how did he die? No, what if that's triggering? I can't handle a Terminator right now. And I don't think I should ask him about his past or anything that'll cause him to have a existential crisis. Ah! I've got it!
"Hey, how do you see?"
The soldat looks down at you for a few seconds then points at his metal contraption.
Wait- is that sarcasm?
You scoff. "Of course, you see with your eyes! I meant, with the whole metal thingy covering them, how do you- oh, there's this vision specs in them."
You smiled. "Hey, you're kinda like Cyclops, yknow-" you were cut off as Handsome suddenly pushed you to the ground, turning on his drill.
"Wait, shit- you don't have to be Cyclops! We can talk this out-" but Handsome was focusing on something else, and that's when you saw it. Two lycans.
Handsome ran and easily maimed them to pieces, I mean, you had to look away from the horrific scene midway.
The soldat returned five minutes later, covered in blood. He extended his hand and you reluctantly took it, letting him support you as you began walking again, your heart still beating like crazy.
But you calmed down when you finally reached the lake, the setting sun gave serene feel to the entire reservoir. You inhaled deeply before looking at Handsome. "Lets go down there." You pointed at the lake.
You were both sitting at the wooden broadwalk, your legs hanging off the ledge. You looked at the water, it wasn't crystal clear, but you could see some fishes swimming around, so at least it wasn't dangerous to life. You looked at Handsome, then at his drill and you realised he was still covered in blood. "Lets get you cleaned up, hm?" You said, pulling out a rag from your bag and dipping it in the cold water below. You began with cleaning up his drill, then dipping the rag back in cold water and cleaning his chest and his other arm.
"Good job back there, Handsome."You smiled as Handsome nodded. "Heisenberg was right, you are kinda like a dog. Hmm, I wonder if..." You tested your theory as you petted him on the head. "Good job, Handsome!" But the soldat only tilted its head in confusion.
"Hmm, perhaps not." You cupped the cold water in your hands and washed your own face, You looked at your reflection in the water. "You wanna go for a swim? I don't mind." Handsome shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of swimming either."
Handsome stared at you. You scoffed. "Oh so you pretend you don't understand what I say, but you want to hear the story? Fine, but I'm only telling you because it might be important later."
You both stared at the water as you began your story. "Well, when I was 15, I had snuck out of the house to go to a party. It was at this rich girl's house and I knew she didn't like me, but I was surprised when she had invited me to her place. Yes, a red flag I should've seen from miles ago, but I was young and dumb and desperate to climb the highschool social hierarchy." You chuckled. "Anyways, long story short, one of the guys there pushed me into the pool because I don't know if they thought it was funny to see me drown? By some luck, I managed to grab onto the pool ledge and pull myself up. I immediately left the party, embarrassed and cold and on the verge of breaking down. Then on the way back home, there was this car following me and then some weirdo catcalled me and tried to get me in his car. Now, scared for my life because I watched a lot of Criminal Minds, I ran all the way home, praying that he leaves me alone. I think he stopped when he saw a Range Rover following him, but I don't know. I just rushed back home." You sighed. "You know what happened next? I bursted through the front door, slamming it shut and I turn around to see my dad in the living room, looking surprised to see me. He stood up and looked me up and down and then said, "Y/n? You're drenched completely. And you're messing up the floor. You know what? Mia's in the bathroom right now, why don't you go upstairs and I'll clean up here. You know how she gets when there's water on the wood." And I was just so shocked, that I didn't say anything and went back upstairs. Once I was in the shower, that's when I broke down crying. I almost drowned, almost got kidnapped and my father was worried about me messing up the wooden floor? Hell, he didn't even ask me why I was coming home at midnight." Your tears fell into the lake, making small ripples. You chuckled, "God, I always wondered how tired he must've been from work that day to ignore all these visible signs of distress. I always hated his job, you know? They made him work way too much." You looked at Handsome who was looking at the lake. "Anywho, now you know I can't swim so, save me if I fall into this lake, okay?" He nodded.
You guys sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before a question popped up in your mind. "Handsome?" He turned his head towards you, only to see a mischievous smile on your face. "Are you seeing someone?" The man turned his back to the lake, making you laugh. "Ahh, so you like someone. Tell me, is it someone from the village?" The man further turned his head away from you in embarrassment. "Oh come on, tell me! Is it a girl?" He nodded reluctantly, making you punch his arm. "You dog! Does she know?" Handsome shook his head, making you smile. "Tell you what? As a payback for saving me back there, I'll help you get her. I'll be your wingman, Handsome, hm?" He nodded a bit enthusiastically.
"We all deserve good things, Handsome. No matter how we look, or what we are, these things don't really define one's self worth. Its our intentions, you know?" Handsome didn't know, but he nodded anyways.
"Good. Now, lets go check out this place. Keep an eye out for Ethan and Rose, okay?" You told him, not knowing someone was already watching the two of you.
So... thought?
What did you guys think about Handsome? I'm gonna post a pic of him soon if you guys want.
Part 5 is here.
#yandere donna#yandere donna beneviento#yandere RE8: TRP#yandere ethan winters#yandere heisenberg#yandere karl heisenberg#karl heisenburg x reader#karl heisenberg#re8 karl heisenberg#ethan winters#yandere resident evil#yandere lady alcina#yandere lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#lady alcina#lady alcina dimitrescu#alcina x reader#lady alcina x reader#donna beneviento#resident evil village#resident evil8#resident evil#resident evil 8#re8 alcina dimitrescu#re8 heisenberg#re8#re8 moreau#yandere moreau#moreau
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Ride
Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,585
Summary: Gatherings can't be that bad, right? Especially if your boyfriend convinces you to ditch early for a ride home on his motorcycle. It's just unfortunate he's gotta rile you up beforehand.. .
Warnings: 18+, kinda masturbation/edging by motorcycle???, teasing, pet names; sweetheart, doll, cocky Bucky (what? He's definitely a warning)
Notes: This idea came to me and I absolutely could NOT put it down. I don't typically write smut or anything along those lines, so any feedback is appreciated! This is way out of my comfort zone😅
____________
"Come on, Sam is waiting on us."
You roll your eyes and dramatically throw yourself back on the bed. "Yeah well, Sam can wait. I don't even want to be there."
"And you think I do?" He calls to you, pulling on his gloves and nearly stomping back towards your room.
"Bucky, I don't want to go." He stands in your doorway and you pout at him, making him sigh.
He cocks an eyebrow at you. "I know. But who says we gotta stay all night?" At this, you raise up from your mopey position. "We make an appearance, talk to Sam for a little while, then get lost in the crowd and disappear. He won't even notice."
You hum thoughtfully. "Good point." You swing your legs over the bed and slip into your Converse shoes, plastering a smile to your face and gleefully skipping due to the fact you'll get to leave early.
Sam was having a reunion party with some buddies from his Afghanistan tours. It was a huge event downtown, but neither you nor Bucky was a big fan of crowds. So the two of you only considered going in support of Sam.
Bucky stopped on the apartment complex's steps, narrowing his eyes at an empty parking spot. "He took my bike."
You snorted. "Cab it is."
________
Shortly you arrive at the event and he opens the cab door for you, his knuckles grazing down your arm to catch your hand in his. The action sends a shudder through your body and he smirks, stopping to give you a scheming look.
"What?" you ask him, furrowing your eyebrows and squeezing his hand.
"Nothing," he simpers.
You decide to be suspicious of him for the rest of the evening.
There are a plethora of people but you both advance through the crowd in search of Sam, Bucky stopping you to point out that Sam is quite preoccupied. He nudges you towards the most empty table he can find so you can sit down. On either side of you both is an empty seat, and the rest of the chairs are filled by half-drunk, burly men sporting drinks.
One of them turns to you and introduces himself and his comrades. A few of them take quick note of Bucky's name, quoting something Sam has mentioned about him before then thanking Bucky for his service. You wrap your arm around his middle and look up at him with pride, nuzzling yourself closer to your soldier.
You're both quiet as the vets around you continue their chatter about their best times, their laughter making the atmosphere light. You have to admit, you might actually be enjoying yourself. You're lost in a story about a guy teaching his kid how to hot wire a car when a hand squeezes your thigh.
Your knee immediately jerks and hits the table and you have to bite your bottom lip to stifle a yelp. A few heads turn in your direction and as you feel the warmth spreading to your face, you feign a sneeze, apologizing for the interruption. Bucky remains dead panned, although the sides of his mouth subtly quirk up. You glare at him. "Bless you, sweetheart," he patronizes. You shift uncomfortably as the men return to their conversations.
His hand makes its way back to your thigh and you inhale sharply through your nose. "Bucky," you whimper, swallowing hard.
"Gotta keep quiet for me, doll, or I'll stop," he tuts lowly. Instinctively you spread your legs a little to make enough room for his hand. Your breath hitches as he circles your clit with his middle finger, lightly tracing down your clothed mound. You curse yourself for wearing jeans, because the thickness of the denim heavily affects the way he feels against you.
But you want more.
He presses harder until Sam struts over to the table, and Bucky innocuously throws his arm around your shoulder. You huff in frustration and he chuckles.
"Surprised you two haven't left yet," Sam laughs, sipping a beer and slapping a hand over Bucky's shoulder.
"Why would we do that?" Bucky asks sarcastically.
Sam rolls his eyes playfully. "Stay awhile, enjoy the sunset and have a drink. They're all on the house." You both pause in thought. "I knew that would convince you!"
"Well," you start. "The sky is gorgeous right now. Maybe just one drink till the sun sets."
Someone then calls for Sam and he excuses himself, telling you he'll see you back at home later. You watch him disappear into the crowd, reality hitting you that you're still worked up from Bucky's teasing. And all it takes is a devious look from him to get you riled up again. You shoot up from your seat to thank the vets around you for their service, and tell them that it was nice to meet them, but you have some personal matters to attend to at home. Bucky follows suit, grabbing your hand.
You try to push your way through the crowd without an obvious, horny spring in your step, and as you pass by a table, Bucky fishes a beer with his free hand without stopping.
"I'll call the cab back here and we can-"
"No."
"What?" You stop in your tracks and Bucky lets go of you, continuing to walk to where his motorcycle is parked. He beckons you over with a crooked finger as he mounts the bike, and you fold your arms over your chest, cocking an eyebrow.
"What? It's not like he'll be able to drive tonight anyway." He foots the kick stand, placing his beer in the back compartment then bringing his hands up to twist around the handlebars. "Come on, let's go watch the sunset."
"The-the sunset?" You ask incredulously.
"What? You said it was pretty, let's go get a closer look." Your eye twitches at his feigned ignorance.
"Bucky I swear to god if you don't take me right now-"
He grins. "Then I just won't take you at all." He revs the engine once to accentuate his threat and you groan. "Come on or I'll leave you."
"Fine."
You march over to him and swing your leg over the bike, nestling yourself into his back and situating your hands on top of his shoulders. The engine roars to life, the heads of onlookers catching your eye and in one swift motion he kicks it into gear and you're off.
The winds whips your hair and licks at your face, causing you to constantly tear it away from your eyes. Once free, you take in the view before you, ever amazed at how the sun sets on the water; the sky glows with an orange and pink hue, making it look like a painting. And for a moment you forget about your throbbing lower half until you shift to get a little more comfortable on the seat and oh. Oh.
Your hands impulsively tighten around his shoulders and your jaw goes slack, gasping as the vibration from the motorcycle hits just the right spot. You let out a light moan and no sooner clap a hand over your mouth, hoping Bucky hasn't heard you. Your head slumps forward on his back.
"You good back there?" He yells over his shoulder.
"Y-yeah! Uh-all good!" you wheeze, attempting not to sound too out of sorts. The street is bare as he stops at a red light, and you try to breathe so as not to let the pleasure overtake you. It's not that you don't want to let go, it's just that you know you'll never hear the end of it from him of you do.
When the light turns green, he revs the engine so many times you lose count. Your mind is swirling in ecstacy and you start to pant faster, clinging onto Bucky for dear life as you near your release.
You screw your eyes shut, the coil finally snapping while you bite down harshly on the shoulder of his leather jacket. By this point you're unabashedly gasping and moaning, your hips bucking wildly into the seat as your clit is overstimulated to the point it hurts.
You pray for the ride to your apartment to end while he speeds up, causing you to sob into the waves of pleasure the vibrations are granting you. You claw mindlessly at his torso until he finally slows to a stop, and you catch your breath to come to your senses. You can't help the nagging, coherent thought that the ride home had taken a lot longer than usual and you realize the sky is now completely black and littered with stars.
He knew. That fucker knew.
Bucky dismounts the vehicle and stands before you with a hand on his hip and a smug demeanor. You lean forward on your hands, still heaving to try and even out your breath.
"Enjoy the ride?" Bucky taunts, flat lining his lips.
"Fuck-" pant "-you," you nearly spit. He chuckles darkly. "You were edging me, with a goddamn motorcycle."
He scratches the back of his head. "I might have added a little extra something just for you."
You raise your head. "Why don't we go upstairs and you let me get my revenge?"
He huffs. "What's the point? You already came all over my seat."
"It wasn't your cock," you retort, untangling your wobbly legs from the bike. Bucky reaches out to steady you, pulling you to him by your waist.
"Fair point, pretty girl."
#marvel#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#marvel cinematic universe#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x female reader#fanfiction#my writing#my fic#bucky x reader smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#the winter soldier#tfatws
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It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 6
Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!
Part One | ... | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Tags: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @ bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar @sukeraa
Bucky refused to leave the omega’s side while she stayed in the lab. Bruce had to stop him from trying to crawl onto the bed with her, and after about the third time, he convinced the super soldier to just pull up a chair like a civilized person and hold her hand while she drifted off to sleep again. Now that she was with her alpha, she had settled down for another nap, more interested in resting than answering any more questions so long as Bucky stayed and kept an eye on her.
Steve had to admit, it was endearing. He had never seen his friend so absolutely enraptured like this. Whenever the omega, or Ten, as Bruce was still calling her, shifted in her sleep, Bucky’s eyes were snapping over to make sure that she was okay. Whenever she let out a little whimper, he was purring and stroking her hair. Whenever she seemed like she might wake up again, his attention was completely on her.
“So...sure you don’t remember her?” Steve asked, pulling up a chair. He had left for a few hours to work out, and after a lack of updates from FRIDAY, he headed back down to check on everything. They were exactly as he had left them, which was a good sign. At least nothing was getting out of hand.
Yet.
Bucky shrugged, rubbing the back of the omega’s hand with his thumb. “I dunno. It’s...foggy.”
“Well, it seems to me like you’ve either got a history together, or she’s mistaking you for someone else.” Steve said. “Quite frankly, it’s hard to do the latter.”
“I’ve dreamt of her.” Bucky said quietly.
“...what?”
“It’s not much, but...I’ve seen her face.” Bucky looked down at her. “I think that no matter how many times HYDRA wiped my memory, she’s always been in there. Kinda like the one constant that was always around, the one thing I could always count on being in the base with me.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Steve asked.
“Never knew if she was real or not.” Bucky sighed. “I thought...maybe she was just something my mind made up to fill some of the gaps. But she smells exactly like I remember.”
Steve sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his friend. Bucky wasn’t snarling anymore, most of his attention trained on the omega while she slept. Now that he was close to her, he had calmed down significantly, though he still wouldn’t let Steve within five feet of her bed.
“Just got off the phone with Tony,” Bruce announced, walking in. “He and Pepper will be back tonight. Pepper’s having some clothes and personal items delivered for our new omega friend here. They also asked about renovating a more permanent room for her, but I, uh...told them I wasn’t exactly sure what the situation would be.”
“She’s staying with me,” Bucky said immediately.
“Now hang on, hang on,” Steve leaned forward.
“Steve,” Bucky growled. “I want her with me.”
“Buck, you don’t even know her—“
Bucky interrupted him with a loud snarl, the omega in question whining and squirming in her sleep at the sound of it.
He immediately shut up, brushing a thumb over her cheek and shushing her until she was sleeping soundly again. Fuck, he felt so stupid. What was wrong with him? She could have woken up, or been scared, or upset, all because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. She needed her rest, and he needed to stay quiet.
Steve almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Oh, Buck,” he shook his head. “You’re in deep.”
—
Amoretta woke feeling well rested, and it wasn’t until she tried to stretch and felt the tug of her IV drip that she remembered where she was. Opening her eyes revealed the bright lights of the lab, and as she started to sit up, a few faces came into view.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Bruce said. “How are you feelin’?”
She licked her lips. “Juice box. Now.”
“Way ahead of you. Had this one waiting as soon as you started waking up.” He tossed one to her and was pleased when her hand shot up to catch it. “Reflexes look good. Vitals are all reading normal. I’ll have to run another test to see what’s going on with those suppressants, but I’m willing to bet you’re metabolizing them fairly quickly now. How are you feeling?”
She pulled the little straw off the back of the carton and jammed it into the top. “Nauseous. Like usual.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Side effect of the suppressants?”
“Always has been. Other than that...I feel great, actually.”
“Well, as soon as these wear off, we can figure out something nicer and more modern for you. If you want to use them, I mean.” Bruce shrugged. “Your choice.”
She smiled. “Choice. I like that.”
“Hey, we’re all about independence here,” Steve said happily. He was glad to see she was awake, even though Bucky wasn’t.
The other alpha was still at her side, but, as of about half an hour ago, he was napping. Steve made a mental note to never let him forget the way he slept straight through the one moment he had been waiting for all day.
“What time is it?” She asked. “There’s no windows in this damn place.”
“Just after dinner,” Bruce chuckled. “You slept most of the day. Bucky hasn’t left your side.”
She looked over to her soldier, smiling warmly at the sight of him sleeping. He was even snoring softly. “I haven’t gotten to see this in forty years.”
“Did you two, uh…” Steve cleared his throat. “Spend a lot of time together?”
The omega laughed. “You always this awkward around girls?”
“That’s not—“
“Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She sucked on her straw. “But...yeah, we did.”
“So...you were just kept for his ruts, or…” Steve was so awkward it was almost endearing. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I think.”
“It’s okay. I know my lot in life.” She kept her eyes trained on Bucky as she spoke. “But if I’m going to answer more questions, I want to get out of this bed. And I want real clothes. Then I’ll talk.”
And so, only several minutes later, Bruce was handing her a sweater and some shorts he had grabbed from a little stash of extra clothing, and Bucky was startled awake by Ten stepping past him. She was finally free from all the tubes and cords that had been sticking out of her during her little hospital stay, and she was all too eager now to explore the tower.
She stood on wobbly legs, almost falling onto him when she tried to take a step. Bucky was up in a flash, ready to catch her, and as she fell against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. Despite just waking up, he felt fully alert, completely ready to tend to his omega’s every need.
His omega...he liked that train of thought.
“We can head up to the common area. It should still be quiet.” Steve said, leading the way out.
Bucky kept an arm around his omega’s waist as they followed, Bruce bringing up the rear. He wanted to be touching her at all times, constantly in contact so that he couldn’t lose track of her. His instincts were roaring to life, demanding that he do everything in his power to make sure that she was safe and in his line of sight. The elevator ride was tense and full of possessive growling, Bucky constantly shoving Ten behind him to keep her in the corner and as far away from Steve as possible, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the doors slid open and they could step out of the cramped space again.
The common area was empty, thankfully, FRIDAY informing them that the other Avengers were all either working out or in their private quarters.
“Good,” Steve said, heading towards the couches. “No interruptions. Got it, FRIDAY?”
“Understood, Captain Rogers.”
“C’mere,” Bucky mumbled, pulling his omega down to sit on one of the couches with him. Part of him was feeling a little sheepish and self conscious of his behavior...but the rest of him didn’t give a shit. The others could stare and shake their heads all they wanted, but he’d be damned if he let Ten slip through his fingers again.
Or whatever her name was.
Steve and Bruce sat across from them, making sure that they left as much space as possible between themselves and the new omega. Neither of them had ever seen Bucky behaving quite like this--he was on guard, hyper aware of everything around him. He made sure that she was pressed up against his side, an arm draped possessively over the back of the couch so that it was unmistakable that she was with him.
Christ, what had gotten into him? He couldn’t remember ever acting this way about an omega before.
“So…” Steve cleared his throat, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees.
Bucky didn’t really like the way his posture made him lean forward towards his omega, but he could deal with it for now. “So.”
“What do you wanna know?” Ten asked, plucking at Bucky’s shirt. She seemed to be even clingier with him than he was with her, perfectly happy to be hanging off him or tucked up against his side. “You met my demands. I guess I’m an open book now.”
“I don’t want to overstep my bounds,” Steve said. “We just need to know as much as you’re willing to share.”
“Then ask a question.”
“...Alright.” he cleared his throat again. “You said HYDRA used you to help with Bucky’s ruts?”
Ten nodded, her expression remaining even and cool.
“Could you tell us more about that?” Steve glanced at Bucky. “Were there ever any other omegas, or anyone we should know about?”
“There were omegas before me.” she answered. “When I first got to the compound, there were a lot of us. They kept us all in big cells, so everyone talked. People said things about how HYDRA was grabbing omegas off the street for their super soldiers, and how the one at our base was the biggest and scariest.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow at her tone. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected her to sound like while she regaled them with her life story, but he definitely thought there would be a tad bit more apprehension in her voice. She seemed proud of herself, and more matter-of-fact than a lot of omegas would be while talking about their alpha’s previous partners. Or...whatever you called prisoners whose only purpose was to help during ruts.
“And I bet he was,” she sighed, leaning her cheek on Bucky’s chest and looking up at him adoringly.
“Well, I don’t know about that…” Bucky said, an almost shy smile on his lips. And...was he actually blushing?
Steve was going to lose his mind.
“You said the other omegas couldn’t handle it? That’s why you were given the serum?” he prompted, trying to keep them on track before he drowned in the sticky sweetness of her happy pheromones.
“Right.” she turned her attention back to Steve and Bucky let out a quiet huff. “HYDRA didn’t really like to take care of us. And the soldier--I mean, Bucky--would wear them out. So...HYDRA would just kind of let them go. Or put them down, maybe. I never saw it.”
Bucky’s expression dropped. His blush was gone, and he almost looked like he was going to be sick as he listened to her talk.
“But it wasn’t his fault,” she said quickly, glancing between him and Steve. “I don’t think it was ever on purpose, you were just...demanding.”
He gave a groan, leaning his head back against the couch. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it, doll. I’d rather know what I did, at this point.”
She offered a small shrug. “I don’t really remember it being that bad, but I don’t think I ever met you before they gave me the serum.”
“That’s something, at least.” he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face.
“Why you?” Steve asked. “Did you have any prior military experience, any ties to something the others didn’t?”
“No.” she laughed. “I never even got in fights before HYDRA.”
“Then why’d they use such an important resource on you, specifically? Not trying to take a dig at you, it’s just...well, omegas don’t usually…”
“I know,” she said. “Omegas aren’t supposed to be tough, right? That’s why they only ever let alphas become super soldiers.”
“That’s not what I…” Steve trailed off and then sighed. “Sorry.”
“I told you, they gave me the serum so that I would be strong enough to hold my own. It also ensured I would always be around, no matter how many years passed.” Her fingers found Bucky’s free hand and she took it, absentmindedly playing with the smooth vibranium knuckles. “Having me as a constant meant they could stop spending so much time and effort on always having a new omega around for him. Plus…well, I wasn’t really there, but I heard something about it once…”
“What?” Bucky asked.
“They let you choose who was going to become your omega.” She said, looking up at him. “They gave you a bunch of scents, and you chose mine. I guess it was the only reason they didn’t, uh...humanely euthanize me.”
His eyes were wide. The thought of HYDRA killing his omega brought a low growl to his throat, his chest rumbling with the vibrations of it. “No.”
“Well, clearly they didn’t!” She said brightly. “My file said I was a kicker.”
“So they gave you, an already aggressive omega, the serum, but never gave you any trigger words or fished around in your brain?” Bruce shook his head. “Surprisingly sloppy, considering who they are.”
“It’s not like they ever sent me out into the world. I stayed in my cell all day, unless I was needed for a rut. Then I went and stayed in a different cell.” She sighed. “And if they ever needed to, they could just use the alpha to grab me.”
Bucky clearly didn’t like the thought of that. He made a frustrated sound, leaning his head back again. “Great.”
“It was never bad.” She let go of his hand, moving her fingers to cup his jaw. “You never hurt me. You wouldn’t. Sometimes, when I acted up, they would make you go retrieve me, because they knew you were the only one who could do it. If they didn’t send you, they would just knock me out.”
“So...that was it?” Steve asked. “Ruts, serum, cryo?”
“For thirty years!” She chirped. “The last time they froze me, they were freezing him, too. They always tried to keep us in cryo at the same time so that I could be thawed out and ready when he needed me. But...I guess they just...left me there?” She frowned.
“See, that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Steve said. “I didn’t see any signs of a struggle at that base. I’d say they left in an orderly fashion, but the fact that they didn’t take you along makes me think they were in more of a hurry than they made it seem.”
“Natasha might have a better idea,” Bruce suggested. “We can talk to her, try to figure out—“
“FRIDAY, open the damn door or so help me God I will rewrite your entire personality.” A voice interrupted from the other side of the door.
“I’m sorry, Tony, but Captain Rogers asked me not to.” The AI said.
“Well, is it an emergency?” The man scoffed.
“No emergency measures have been executed. No security breaches have been identified.”
“Then I’m sorry, but Captain Rogers does not outrank me when it comes to my own robots. Open the door, beautiful.”
She seemed to sigh. “Very well, Mr. Stark.”
Ten perked up, leaning forward slightly. She was watching the door curiously, tilting her head a little when she heard it slide open. Bucky rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself quietly and pulling her up against his side as another alpha strode in.
“Really? Having a party without me?” the man asked, a smooth, casual air about him as he walked in and looked at everyone on the couches. When his eyes landed on the omega cuddled up next to Bucky, he stopped. “Ah, is this our new guest?”
“Go away, Stark.” Bucky growled. He didn’t like how long the other man’s gaze was lingering on his omega, not when there weren’t any scars on her neck to show who she belonged to.
“Always such a charmer, Barnes.” Tony said, flopping down next to Steve. “Lovely to see you, too. Care to introduce me to your friend? ….No, you’d rather just snarl and forget your words? I knew you were old, but I didn’t realize you were actually a caveman.”
“Tony,” Bruce groaned. “Don’t aggravate him. Please.”
“Why not?” Tony leaned back against the cushions, completely at ease and totally happy to be pressing every one of Bucky’s buttons.
“Are you Tony Stark?” Ten asked, wiggling out of Bucky’s grip to sit on the edge of their couch.
Bucky caught her around the waist before she could get very far, though, and dragged her onto his lap. He loomed over her, sneering dangerously at Tony as the other alpha flashed a smile.
“Bingo.” he said.
“I never thought I’d meet a Stark,” she admitted. “I always heard about Stark Industries, but I lived too far away from any big cities to ever get to see any of his exhibitions.”
“Ah. You’re from my father’s time. Of course.” Tony shot a pointed glare in Bucky’s direction. “Seems like Bruce left out a few teensy weensy important details on the phone today.”
“Well, it’s been, uh...an ongoing learning experience.” Bruce said sheepishly.
“Lots of developments, huh?” Tony raised an eyebrow.
“You could say that.” Steve said under his breath. “We came up here so Ten could be more comfortable while we talk.”
“Oh yeah? What’re we talkin’ about?” Tony asked.
“They were asking about my time with HYDRA,” she answered, cutting in before anyone else could. “And with...Bucky.”
Saying his name felt odd. Her tongue wasn’t used to it, and her mind wanted to call him alpha, or Winter Soldier. Bucky just seemed so…casual, such a strange thing to call a deadly super soldier. When she heard herself, though, she decided that she definitely didn’t hate it.
Bucky’s heart gave a little leap at the sound of his name falling from her lips. He wanted her to say it over and over again, in whispers and in screams, for nobody else’s ears but his.
“...Buck?” Steve asked, pulling him away from his thoughts. “You, uh, kinda zoned out there.”
It wasn’t until Bucky looked at Steve that he realized his eyes had been trained on the omega in his lap. “Yeah?”
“...Is this seriously how you’ve spent the past day and a half?” Tony asked. “Steve, I’m sorry, and I’m sure you’re just trying to be as helpful as you can be, like always, but I think you should let these two get a room.”
Steve looked at him incredulously. “Tony, really? I’m trying to get to the bottom of why exactly HYDRA would abandon the omega they pumped full of super soldier serum. They can get a room later—“
“Yeah, uh, wonder boy? I don’t think your pal is gonna last much longer before he tries to rip our heads off.” Tony nodded towards a very disgruntled Bucky. “You can resume your interrogation tomorrow, Cap.”
Steve looked to Bruce for help, but he only offered a small shrug and stood, heading towards the door. “He’s right, Steve. They deserve some alone time.”
“But—hey!” Steve protested as Bucky picked his omega up, striding past the two alphas sitting on the opposite couch.
“Thanks for everything, Steve.” Bucky said over his shoulder.
Ten squirmed, peeking around Bucky’s arm as she was carried away. “Bye, Mr. Stark!”
“Don’t look at him,” Bucky growled as they walked out the door.
“Did his father really make hoverboards? I heard once that Howard was promising hoverboards—“
“No.” He said flatly.
“...oh.” She huffed, slumping against him. “Where are we going?”
“My apartment.” Bucky stepped into the elevator, his grip still tight around her.
The omega perked up. “You have a whole apartment?”
He puffed his chest out a little. “Course I do. Gotta have a nice place for you, don’t I?”
“So I can stay?” Her eyes were bright and happy. “I can stay there, with you, all the time? Not just when you rut?”
He felt a sad little pang in his heart. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Then, his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. “I mean, uh...i-if you want to, that is. I know it’s fast and all, and maybe...would you rather have your own room? Or I can stay on the couch—“
“Bucky,” she cut him off with a laugh, a soft hand cupping his jaw. “You’ve been my alpha for seventy years. I’d say we’re actually moving pretty slow.”
His expression relaxed again, lips stretching into a small smile. “Right. Yeah. You’re right.”
They spent the rest of the elevator ride in comfortable silence, Bucky rubbing his scent glands all over her hair. He wanted to make sure that the next time they encountered anyone else, she smelled exactly like him.
Like her alpha.
When the elevator came to a gentle stop at Bucky’s floor, the doors opened, and he stepped out in front of his apartment door. It opened for him, having already scanned his biometrics, revealing a small, but cozy, living room.
He set his omega down on her feet, watching anxiously as she stepped into his quarters. Did she like it? Fuck, was it too small? It was too small. She probably hated it. Fuck, fuck, fuck...he had to salvage this somehow.
“Well, uh…” shit, he sounded too nervous. He wanted her to think he was a strong, capable alpha.
He cleared his throat for another start. “Welcome home, Omega.”
Wait. That wasn’t right. Should he be calling her that? No, probably not, it sounded too possessive, too uncaring. He wished he just knew her fucking name, or something.
“I mean…Ten?”
Shit, he sounded so stupid. He wanted to impress her, not...do whatever this was.
She just laughed, though, turning and looking at him with those eyes that sparkled like starlight. “Amoretta. My name is Amoretta.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x oc#abo#omegaverse#alpha bucky#alpha bucky barnes#it's been a long long time#avengers x reader#avengers x oc
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a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.
“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.
Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”
It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.
“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”
Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.
This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.
The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.
In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.
He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.
It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.
This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.
Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.
“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.
Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”
“For us. Definitely.”
They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.
How the fuck did they get here?
“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”
“Okay!”
With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.
“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.
“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”
“Oof. That’s rough.”
“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”
“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.
Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”
“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”
“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”
“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”
Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.
“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.
“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”
Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”
“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”
That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.
“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”
“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.
“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.
“Hah. No.”
“You told Mickey yet?”
Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”
From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.
“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”
“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”
The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.
“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.
“Polite,” Lip appraises.
Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”
“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”
They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.
“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”
Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”
“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”
Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.
“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.
Ian gives his brother a pointed look.
“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”
“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”
“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.
“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”
“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.
“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”
“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.
“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.
“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.
“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”
“Told you he was.”
“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”
“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.
Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”
Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”
Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”
Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”
Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”
“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”
“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.
Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.
“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”
Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.
Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?
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Jean with their almost full term wife just being extremely uncomfortable, they cry a lot and are just ready for the baby to be out?
Here I go... this has been in my inbox for an embarrassing amount of time but I had this plot in mind for two years and I was waiting for this moment to be animated to be able to write and post this... Listen while you read → the sound of silence by Simon and Garfunkel
Pairing: Jean/ Reader
Tags: hurt/comfort (yes my ✨favorite✨), Jean being a sweetheart
Warnings: pregnancy, grief, mentions of labor and childbirth, crying, Post Sasha's death
The Sound of Silence
The dull, gray shade that was plastered all over the sky was accompanied by an excessive stride of frozen air that was blowing on your hair, sending stray strands of (e/c) flying all over your eyes. A few droplets fell faintly in random places over you and on the freshly trimmed grass that was swaying under your feet. There was a vast variety of tombstones that surrounds you, sternly and calculated lined up tombs extend to a tragic horizon, where your eyes couldn't seem to find an end to. A few leaves were being blown around over them, as well as fresh flower petals, ones you could recognise as you had seen numerous people leave bouquets to their deceased loved ones for all the time you'd stayed here.
Inevitably, the gravestone you were resting your back on was frozen, making your whole body shiver as you lean on it, but you chose not to pay any attention to it; you simply buried your chin between your knees and closed your eyes before letting out a sigh escape you. Your stomach tightened as your chest hitched and you instinctively brought a hand to rub over your swollen tummy. You inspected the bum by running your hand around it, rubbing on a few places near your inverted belly button, pressing slightly over the top as you felt the probing piece of flesh flick in the palm of your hand underneath your dress.
When you felt a kick, a single leg movement push against the insides of your stomach, though, you took away your hand, slamming it onto the ground as you tried to grip onto the moist soil right next to you. It was kind of a peculiar feeling and even now, nine months in you were still fully uncomfortable with it. Being pregnant wasn't something you've enjoyed; rather was more like a hazard to your very health and was reason you were relieved of your soldier duties. And you secretly cursed Jean and yourself a bit for allowing this to happen.
Who on their right mind would enjoy swollen feet and back pains, who would enjoy the crazy mood swings and the fatigue that causes you to be unable of even taking a stroll around the town? Who would ever want to feel suffoccated by how big their pregnancy belly had turned? Not you. Definitely not you, but according to your mother they were supposed to be something you'd enjoy later on.
Now, you weren't so sure.
And you were so overdue yet you weren't even sure you could even take care of your child in the mental state you were in.
Sighing hard after taking a deep inhale you dug your frail fingernails into the soil, feeling the ominous tears that the angry skies were begining to pour. Your eyes lingered on the shapeless coulds, focusing onto the dull, stripped light that could barely peak from underneath them. You felt the faint river of a tear run down your cheek at the sight and the skies responded right back at you with a loud thunderclap. It almost felt as if the skies were mourning Sasha just like you. Maybe, if you tried to convince yourself, you'd believe that it was your childhood friend that cried with you due to your departure.
Feeling your body go stiff and your face go numb from the fresh needles of the cold air that was blowing on you your scrunched your nose upwards, hoping for the action to stimulate even the tiniest blood flow to the numb tip. It didn't, and the tingling sensation of a sneeze madxhed it's way to your blood vessels, scratching methodically at all the right pressure points to force it's release. Finally and with a loud blow you felt your chest go in shock as you sneezed, your whole body joltimg up on your very spot.
Still you sniffled the little drops of moisture with the inside of your elbow, you couldn't find it in you to move or get up, you couldn't even try to find an ounce of physical strength inside your body. Sashas tombstone provided some strong comfort for you though, acting as your only comforter against the cold.
"This can't be any good for you."
A soft, large and so very warm hand came to rest upon your shoulder; delicate fingers gave you a squeeze as a bulky thumb rubbed a few circles to the end of your collarbone. You didn't even have time turn your head to see who it was, frankly because you knew.
His scent, his warmth, his touch, his whole aura practially screamed his name.
"Jean?"
"It's going to rain really hard you know." He said, planting a kiss to your temple. "wanna go back?"
"No." You sniffled dangerously.
"Okay then, I-" Jean paused before squating to your level "I guess were staying here for a bit."
"Thank you."
The soft ruffle that you felt on your hair was Jeans reply and it tousled your hair slightly, allowing the shy blond to catch a tiny sniff of your sweet scent to which he sncrunched his nose slightly and proceeded to place a kiss at the top of your hair line. Then, once again, he placed another kiss on your temple.
Fidgeting with your hand while trying to undig it out of the soil, you closed your eyes at the feeling, expecting the tiniest bits of adoration to enter your body through that kiss. Jean rested his head on your shoulder from his squatting position and you smiled a tiny bit and only in the blink of an eye, exhaling a cold huff of air to his face. A sharp pain in your chest was starting to spread, pushing back away over everything else that lay inside your body, strangling the insides of your throat.
"I miss her already."
You felt your breath chock you from the insides of your throat dangerously; a tight, looking knot was finally making its binds tighter and even more evident to the depths of your stomach as it spread to your throat.
"Me too"
"And God she was more that me excited for our baby."
As you shut your eyes, in frail attempt to mute the memories of Sasha that were coming back to your vision, a single tear rolled from the corner of your eye. With a shaking hand you managed to grip onto the side of Jean's coat; the chachi makò cotton coat rubbed against your thum as if protesting for the dirt that was being wiped on it, yet Jean didn't seem to care.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here for so long when you're dysphoric about pregnancy."
"Its-its fine" You sniffled, a hitched sigh escaping the depths of your throat.
"Mmm baby, it's not, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't bring Sasha back with me too she'd talk to me everyday about betting on how we're going to have twins."
As another thunderclap roared in the background, Jean found it fitting to move his aching legs and shift his position to the ground. As he took a turn, he placed another kiss just next to your eye while he took your hand in between his. With a soft thud he came to rest his body next to yours and you made a slight move to allow him a little more space before his back finally came to rest to the small tomb right behind you. A hand came to wrap around your shoulders lovingly silently begging you to push your head down to your lover's shoulder to which you eagerly complied.
"I kinda think she was right, I'm too huge, I can't even breathe properly these days." Another tiny peck was placed to the top of your head as you spoke. "To be honest," You sniffled "whatever it is I want it to be out."
"I know."
"And I don't want to accept that Sasha died, I grew up with her Jean."
"I know baby." He said and placed a new kiss to your head.
"And for the love of any fucking intelligent titan I'm so swollen and I'm angry and all that could make me happy right now would be you Connie and Sasha teasing me about it."
Jean felt your back pulp on him like a jolting lighting has just fell from the sky. He heard the hard sniffle of your nose and heard the painful sob that was stuck to the back of your throat as your sentence came to an end. This, with a burning desire to let his own heart go loose came the feeling of his own eyes stinging, his own chest jolting, his fingertips gripping onto the side of your head as if they were hanging onto you for dear life.
"All I get though is this stupid tomb!" You cried and threw a clenched first backwards towards the tomb, hitting it with all your potential might as you chocked on your next words. "This stupid fucking reminder that my best friend is dead."
It was so dearly painful. Your heart hammered in your chest in protest to your refusal to deny Sasha's death, your stomach churned in a coiling fire and the big swelling bumb under your right hand rioted against your mourning. But you failed to give a care. Your best friend in the whole world was dead.
You could still remember when you decided to join the military together, you still remembered your very first friends, you still remembered how she and Connie were the ones to help you and Jean get together. You remembered the way you'd play when you were kids and how you'd spend days sewing clothes just to play like you were paying a visit to Sina in your most elegant attire. You remembered watching her fall in love with food and with whom you had thought could be the man of her life.
You remembered every single miniscule moment of your life spent with Sasha and it crushed you.
Nevertheless when Jean's long fingers came to sway over the roots of your hair and his nose nuzzled to the top of your hairline, his lips rubbing onto your soft hair, ready to press another kiss at any given time, your face softned, taking away the chocked sob you were about to let out with it. You brought your hand to your face, pulling your sleeve to cover it up and put it to your nose to wipe the runny goo off of it.
"I know, shh" The ashy blond rubbed his chin to the side of your scalp, giving you the tiniest bit of affection from it before bringing his nose back to your head to rub it on the spot again.
Then, the way that you sighed was almost silent.
Save for the whiny hiccup that escaped you.
"Please don't cry so much, I'm going to panic."
A tiny laughter inevitably escaped you. You remembered that phrase very well. When you had caught Jean crying after Marco's memorial he had came running into your arms, sobbing like a madman and you had wispered the same words while rubbing your palms soothingly over his back. That was the same night that you decided to follow him into joining the scouts, the first night of an endless personal misery.
"It's just-" You cried "I just can't, we've lost so many people and it hurts Jean. I should have been there."
"Shh no, don't think like that."
Jean was holding back tears for you. It was evident in the way that he was shaking and jolting his head from time to time. His palm was flexed in a fist, tightly resting over your shoulder as it gripped a fold in your cloack. You only breathed harder at the realisation, feeling your chest sink in a tremendous amount of pain that left you hollow. You felt another kick coming from the inside of your stomach to which you shut your eyes to, too afraid to see the outline of a hand or a foot appear under the thin linen clothe of your dress. And just like before, another heart wrenching sob escaped you.
"I didn't want to say goodbye." Jean said quietly, his voice coming as a breath that barely brushed your ear. "You didn't even get to say goodbye and that's bad of me to say, but I didnt want to see what I saw. I didn't want to say goodbye. I don't want you to suffer. I don't want to suffer either."
"Jean.."
The sniffling of your nostrils wasn't nowhere near coming to an halt, thus the back of your sleeve was the ideal solution to your distress; had you had any more little power in your body you would reach for the handkerchief in your shoulder bad. But that couldn't be the case. Not until you could feel your feet.
"(Y/n), baby... I'm sorry. I promise I won't let anything happen to you and our baby. Even if it means I have to sacrifice my life for you to be safe."
A gasp came out of your mouth quicker than you had anticipated. The hiccup that escaped you was accompanied by another burning hot tear that run down your eye, your whole spine giving in to the wave of fear that shook you, resulting in your head jolting in shock. Your hand shot to his, gripping it with force to bring it over your stomach, your fingers clinging onto his while pressing hard in between his knuckles.
"Don't say that shit, you're not dying Jean, get that thought out of your idiotic head," You inhaled through hitches "I'm going to die a pitiful death if you leave me."
"Please don't do that." Jean clenched his teeth.
"Then don't die too you idiot."
Another rush of a few raindrops started pouring, this time even more quickly that before. The grass under your feet swayed, each spiky peak bending and bouncing as the weight of the rain hit the ground. Big blotches of water were now forming on your attire, waiting your skin as they came to connect with each other, darkening the brown color of the linen skirt you were wearing. Jean wrapped his hand tighter around you, rubbing his cheek to the top of your head again with mellow force, as if trying to assure you it would be okay for you to stay there for only just a moment more.
And you begged to listen to his silent proposition.
Letting his hand rest loosely over your swollen stomach, you took a deep breath, allowing your self to flex your toes inside your shoes. Your indstep steamed as the little strap squished you so hard that you tried your best to convince yourself you weren't going to deal with a blood clot. You hated that you had come to despise your favorite pair of shoes. All you ever wished for was that then would just fit you like normal. Still, even to that thought, the little being inside you took half a leaping turn, giving another kick to the top of your stomach.
Had Sasha been here she would have told you something to help you get your mind off of it. She would have teased Jean for not being able to keep it in his pants and you would have laughed, feeling the tentuon easing off.
Still, the kick, that most women would have found one of joy, only turned your insides like clothes swept by a tide.
"I want to throw up." You announced, half looking at Jean
"Because of the kick? Or the thought of it?"
"Maybe-maybe both."
It was then that another kiss was planted in your forehead. The raw sound of lips smacking filled the air against the drenching water of the rain, giving a little antsy essence to the gesture. Jean rubbed his closed mouth against your skin with his eyes closed in his best effort to help you calm down.
"Now now," He whispered "It wouldn't be the best thing to throw up in the cemetery, would it?"
With closed eyes, you pouted and shook your head twice in response.
"Okay then, I have a proposal for you."
"What?"
"Want to go visit Marco's grave? And then get you somewhere warm? And changed?"
Your pout intensified amd you fixated your gaze at the ground with furrowed brows. The nauseating feeling in your stomach was coiling begging to obertske you, but there was something so warm about Jean's sweet tone that fought it violently, so much that you could even feel your face loosen up as you melted under his touch.
"Yes, I'd like that."
"Okay then."
You shivered slightly as Jean took his arm off of you and dug it to the ground, giving himself a little prompt as he bend his knees closer to his body before stretching them to get up. Next, he leaned towards you, extending a long arm to your side, his thick, enormous palm stretching as it signaled you to place yours in it. Lifting a hand to his direction faintly you manages to place your palm into his and soon you managed to feel his fingers tighten a grip over your knuckles.
Still though, you couldn't find it in you to get up.
You stared at Jean with brows that screamed in apology, lifted skin littered with regretful lines. You had been feeling heavy lately. Everyone knew that, everyone who laid eyes on you questioned hoe you even managed to walk normally. But today you had struggled to get out of bed so much that you had even considered asking to be carried to Sasha's grave, knowing full well that you were too heavy for this to be a reality.
"You can do it."
"Give me a second, I can feel my lower stomach pulsating."
Jean eyed you with concern, his thumb quick to rub a circle over the knuckle of your pointer finger. You only gave him a mixed look next, squeezimg him just a little as you started pulling his hand. You had to get up. You couldn't stay in the rain until someone picked you up bridal style. Thus, you gave a little push. Just a teeny, tiny push to prompt yourself up and meet Jean halfway.
"Oh, oh crap."
In that moment you couldn't even think of a worse mistake that you had made in your nineteen years of life.
"What?"
You didn't want to believe it. No. It couldn't be happening now.
"Uhm, my water just broke."
"WHAT?"
"There's fluid leaking down my thigh and I'm pretty sure I didn't just pee myself. I wouldn't do that in a graveyard."
In between Jean's petrified expression and the trembling pain in your core, you somehow found yourself be eerily non panicked about the happening. As much as you wanted to scream from the pain, as much as you felt like your feet where going to give out, you were nowhere near turning pale yellow like Jean.
"Was this supposed to happen so suddenly?" Jean breathed heavily.
"Well" You cursed under your breath as you clutched over your stomach "I have been overdue for some days now and, ah fuck this is painful-"
"I'm really, really freaking out right now. What. Do. We. Do?"
"Calm down, let's go to Marco's grave."
"What? No!? Your waters literally broke. They broke, oh my god I'm going to be an actual father." Jean let out a chocked scream while running his other hand through his hair and gripping despairately on the roots.
"Jean, okay I migh-" A sharp pain went through your core "I still have a lot of time until my contraction is big enough for the baby to come out."
"This can't be safe."
"I'm telling you!"
Jean took a deep breath. His chest rose and fell, his shaking fingers steadied just a tiny bit, his trembling feet suddenly felt just a little more steady. This wasn't a time to panic, of course, he knew that far. The look you were giving him, even though it was pained, screamed that he could trust you; despite either of you having absolutely no idea about childbirth, he knew that having an anxiety attack this early into labor would only cause a worse experience for you.
Plus, he was the one who suggested they you'd visit Marco, and he wasn't about to say no to you at your current situation. With a hand bend over his hip, he prompted your own to snail through it for support. At least if you were going to do this, he'd basically walk you there. Pressing his lips together, Jean gave you an longing look, letting a deepnsigh escape the depths of his chest.
Eagerly you nodded at him, linking your arm with his. You softly dug your button lip under your upper flesh, trying your best not to bite into it as another rush of pain washed through you. Having contractions this frequent only meant that you had to rush and you knew that better than anyone else, but there was this little voice in the back of your brain that begged you to not take this moment away from Jean. With a final little stroke at Sasha's tomb and a tear running down your wet, stinging eyes before you matched away and to the direction of Marco's grave, you let yourself think you could hear her say a tiny good luck to you.
"Okay, let's go see Marco alright?" Jean said with a hint of glimmer in his eyes "For five minutes."
"Okay and then I'm going to go and have your child."
"Quite literally."
Taglist: @sasageyowrites @ackermans-freedom-inc @melancholicmonologue @ladyofpandemonium @levisbrat25 @callmepromise @hawkssnugget @berrijam @thethyri @nobody-knows-anymore @lzrers
#jean x reader#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein#jean kirschtein x you#jean kirschtein#jean kirstein imagine#jean snk#jean aot#snk x reader#aot#attack on titan#snk#shingeki no kyojin#aot x reader#snk imagines#snk season 4#aot season 4#angst
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“Decisions,” Pt 2 Reiner x Reader
Summary: After finding out the love of your life is a Titan shifter, he disappears with Eren and Ymir. What happens when the scouts go to rescue them both and you see Reiner again?
Warnings: noneeeeeee
No spoilers
PART ONE
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The scouts have been planning this for some time, they had everything perfectly laid out to rescue Eren and Ymir and hopefully not lose any members in the process of going head to head with both the Titan shifters.
The more you sat in the meetings, listening to them speak- the more your heart would break at the constant reminder of Reiner being a traitor as well as a Titan shifter.
All while when Bertholdt and Reiner sat on the tree in the woods with both of Eren and Ymir, Reiner had felt like he made a huge mistake leaving you behind.
He would always think about it and the sadness that rained down on him was more than painful to deal with and Bertholdt noticed.
He knew you would be coming with the scouts to rescue both of their ‘hostages’ and he wasn’t too sure if he was prepared to see you again. He was sure you hated him, probably wanted to kill him and he would probably let you if it came down to it.
He never wanted to hurt you or put you in harms way so if it was a last resort and he saw how determined you were to kill him, he would rather die than hurt you.
As you made your horse run as fast as it could, it wasn’t long till you have caught up to the traitors- Reiner being the only one who shifted.
You tried to put on the act of acting angry, acting like you wanted to kill Reiner but you only did so Levi would let you join the mission and help them rescue Eren.
When Reiner had caught a glimpse of you, it was like his heart stopped and he wished you didn’t come as the swarm of Titans ran through towards the scouts.
But you were determined to try to catch up to him, no matter what.
“Focus on the plan, Reiner!” Bertholdt had screamed at him, the way things were going- it was at a disadvantage for them.
It wasn’t long till now everyone was trying to fight off Titans and the plan had switched for now Reiner and Bertholdt to escape, making Ymir shift and save them instead of going back with the scouts.
It was a last minute plan that flashed his mind but, he ran towards you to risk bringing you with this time.
As you got knocked off your horse, tumbling to the ground from a Titan- you were picked off the ground and the roar Reiner had let out scared everyone except the Titan before you.
“This isn’t what I wanted to happen.” Reiner said to himself, watching the Titan bite your arm off before he managed to knock the beast down and lock your body in his hand.
The fear washed over him, running away with Bertholdt, Ymir and now you as he tried to make it back to the empty town behind wall Maria.
You had looked down at the gush of blood escaping your arm, everything rushing to your head as you began to panic. Reiner had opened his hand enough to get a good look at you before setting you down on a roof and quickly escaping his Titan body.
“Y/N!” He yelled, ripping apart out of the skin and rushing over to you even though his body was weak and fragile from the shift.
Your eyes had barely managed to look up at him, the more blood you were losing- the more likely you were about to pass out. He had ripped his shirt off, wrapping it around your arm tightly to stop the bleeding.
“I told you, Reiner! She’s just going to slow us down!” Bertholdt was angry, he didn’t bother caring about your state considering they lost Eren.
“Just shut up and help me! She can’t die.” He was beginning to panic, the tears stinging his eyes as he tried his best to patch up your decapitated arm.
“Reiner,” You barely said, your eyes moving down to your limp numb of an arm and it had hit you.
Reiner had sat there, he didn’t want this- this was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t risk losing you or being to blame for your death, he already hated himself enough to let you get this hurt.
Eventually you had passed out, falling into a coma as Reiner tried his best to bandage up your wound and place you inside one of the empty houses. He made sure you were comfortable and taken care of.
Bertholdt kept reminding him how you were better left dead, how you weren’t going to wake up, you were dead weight to them.
He didn’t listen though, he continued to check in on you and make sure to change your bandages regularly and sit next to the bed hoping you would wake up soon.
His heart felt heavy every time he looked at your peaceful sleeping state. You deserved better than him but his love for you had completely sucked him in deep and you kept him level headed and warm. Losing you would mean losing himself and his humanity.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, kinda sounds ridiculous talking to myself every time I come here.” Reiner mumbled, sitting on the chair beside the bed as he unwrapped your bandages to change them.
“But.. I’m hoping talking to you will help guide you to wake up and come back to me.” He shook his head, grabbing the cloth and cleaning off the dry blood, making sure to be careful.
“I know this is my fault that you now have one arm but.. I don’t know, it’s better than having you dead. That would completely destroy me, fuck the plans, fuck the missions— if I don’t have you then what’s the point? Nothing makes me look forward to living than you, Y/N.” He was quiet, his eyes moving up to look at your face and admire your beauty.
His heart raced at the sight of your face, the way he loved you so much and so whole heartedly. None of what he was doing was worth it if he didn’t have you- none of it and that’s what scared Bertholdt the most. He wasn’t scared to lose his best friend to the scouts or have him get killed by any of their old comrades- he was scared of losing Reiner to you.
Deep down Bertholdt knew that if it came down to it, Reiner would put his life on the line for you.
“I love you.” He had mumbled, wrapping the wound back up perfectly and leaned over to place a gentle kiss to your forehead.
It had taken another few weeks and Bertholdt was beginning to grow irritated and impatient to the point where he was pressuring Reiner to let you go.
“She’s not dead! Until her heart stops beating I’m not fucking letting her go!” He shouted down at his best friend, making him stumble back and stare at Reiner with shock.
“It’s been weeks, you think she’s going to wake up? Open your eyes! She’s probably brain dead for all we know.”
Reiner had swung his fist, punching Bertholdt clean in the jaw and knocked him to the floor. He was his best friend sure but he wouldn’t let someone disrespect you in front of his face.
“Just mind your fucking business and stay out of mine.” Reiner angrily said, storming out of the room and down the hall towards the room you laid in.
The anger had consumed him as he stared at your sleeping body. He was so angry and hurt that his eyes began to water, grabbing the small chair and throwing it at the wall.
That night he had slept on the floor beside your bed and in the middle of the night you began to stir slightly before completely opening your eyes. You shot up on the bed, looking around at the unfamiliar area as your breathing got heavy.
The panic building up inside of you as your eyes settled in the darkness, looking down at your now missing arm. Your heart dropped at the sudden flashbacks of what had happened, your fingertips of your right hand moved up to touch your shoulder.
When you turned to try to get out of the bed but you felt your feet hit some blankets on the floor and your eyes glanced down to see Reiner sleeping below you, making your heart race.
“Reiner..” You whispered under your breath, moving down to where you were kneeling on the floor just beside his body as soft snores left his lips.
You hesitated, you didn’t want to wake him but you couldn’t hold in your excitement as you watched his beautiful face being squished against the pillow, his lips parted open.
“Reiner.” You said a bit louder, bringing your hand to shake him awake and he had jolted up, startling the both of you.
It had taken him a moment, his eyes adjusting and falling onto you and at first he thought it was dream, he was dreaming that you were awake before him.
“Y/N?” He was quiet, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek and once he felt the warmth of your skin, he instantly embraced you in a hug.
His arms secured around your small frame tightly, practically pulling you onto his lap as the tears fell from your eyes and down your cheeks while hugging him with your right arm.
“Oh my god, youre awake.” He continued repeating it to himself, his heart now felt complete and full as he pulled his head back to look at you.
Both of his hands had cupped your cheeks, the wide smile never leaving his lips as his emotions got the better of him, making his eyes tear up as his heart swelled.
He started to pepper kisses around your face, the explosion of butterflies he felt as he finally was able to look you in the eyes and love on you without you being completely emotionless in a coma.
Suddenly the realization had hit him. The way he left things off with you had came across his mind and it made him sad. A frown coming across his lips and he brushed strands of your hair back.
“Can you forgive me for leaving you behind? For not telling you the truth?”
“I’ll always forgive you till my last breath, Reiner.. as bad as it sounds, I love you and I always will.” You couldn’t help but forgive him, he made you happy, he was your safe haven.
“Why? I betrayed you, I betrayed everyone.”
“You did but I know you’ll never put me in harms way, I know the real you and that’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place.” He sighed at your words, a wash of relief splashing over him like cold water.
“I’m so sorry.” He said again, leaning forward to smash his lips on yours and you lean towards him, kissing him back.
The amount of emotions you felt, the butterflies, the love, the way your heart pounded in your chest. As much as you wanted to hate Reiner for what he did and for what he is, you couldn’t. All you could see was a broken boy that did what he thought was best for his survival.
“I love you, Y/N.”
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Uhhh is this even a good part two?? Idk, feels rushed but I just had this moment where I wanted it to be a bit angst but full of love at the end of it.
Pls I know someone mentioned something about how I should’ve done part 2 based on what happens in season 4 but Ima be real with y’all— I haven’t started season 4 and I’m too scared to so BEAR WITH ME PLS
• Main Masterlist •
• AOT Masterlist •
#reiner braun#reiner headcanons#Reiner imagines#Reiner x reader#Reiner fanfic#Reiner Braun imagines#Reiner Braun x reader#aot headcanons#aot imagines#aot fanfic
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Is She Mine? (Negan x Wife!Reader)
Anon Request: can you do a negan imagine where the reader was his real wife before the walkers came and after he starts getting more wives and kinda forgets the reader, she leaves in the middle of the night. Then maybe a year later, Negan finds out about another community and tries to take their stuff but he and the saviors get captured and they find out that the reader is the leader? (Optional: maybe the reader was pregnant and Began didn’t know and finds out about the kid)
A/N: Ok I will always associate Negan with Denny Duquette because I watched Grey's before I watched Walking dead and it’s just so weird seeing Jeffrey in a completely different setting.
Warnings: Normal TWD gore, language
You watched from the back as your husband, Negan, pressed another iron to a poor man’s face, causing you to wince as the screams of pain and smell of burnt flesh invaded your nostrils. You looked toward the other wives who looked just as disgusted at what your husband was doing.
You were his first and he was never like this. Always kind and compassionate but then the dead began to rise and he felt the need to grow a shell around his personality, forming an alter ego that everyone knew. No one knew the real Negan, only you, and it made you sick to your stomach watching him turn so sadistic. Shaking your head, you walked away from the group of people that were watching the poor torturing of another worker who dared challenge Negan’s authority. Making your way to your room, you were soon joined by the other wives who ignored you for the most part. They sat throughout the room and talked amongst themselves, reading books or downing drinks that stocked the bar.
“Well would you look at this, all of my wives are looking so divine tonight,” Negan stated as you all looked at him, waiting for his next pick. Whenever he complimented his “collection” it always meant he was wanting sex and would choose one of his wives to satisfy his needs. For the past three months, it hasn’t been you. It’s never you anymore. It’s always one of the younger and prettier ones who weren’t “forced” but were forced to marry him. Swinging his baseball bat around, the girls ignored his eagerness as his eyes surveyed the room, purposely skipping the corner in which you stood, crossing your arms over the small bump that was beginning to form.
“Tina, come with me my dear,” he spoke out after a moment of silence as Tina nodded and followed him out. Once the pair left, you turned around, hiding your face from the rest of the girls before a pair of heels clicked their way over to you.
“How are you?” Sherry asked as you looked at her with an exasperated look.
“Sick, morning sickness is no joke, and he doesn't even know,” you mumbled as she grasped your shoulder in a comforting way before pulling you into a hug.
“You need to get away,” she whispered in your ear as you nodded with a frown.
“I know.”
You sat in your room, hoping Negan would join you tonight like he did when he first started the Sanctuary. As the clock ticked, however, you realized he wasn’t going to join you, again. Sighing, you sat up and tore off the black dress that hugged your figure and traded it for a pair of jeans and a hoodie, making sure to pack a bag of food and water before sneaking out of the compound and into the neighboring woods, never looking back.
That was years ago and you had joined a small community after journeying into the woods for a couple of days. Sooner than later, after their leader fell ill, the people had decided that with your knowledge and natural leadership qualities that you would be the best fit for the role. You insisted that you wouldn’t take the role, but they were insistent on the job as you had caved in. You sat peacefully on the steps of your hut as you heard a sequel from behind you, watching your daughter run out of the house, being chased by another one of the communities kids. Smiling, you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by the bell ringing throughout the community.
“What’s going on?” You asked one of the guards as your daughter joined your side, clutched to a scarf that you had tied around your pants for her to cling to.
“Our Ops surrounded a group of men. They demand that they speak to the leader of the community,” one of your men stated as you grabbed a walkie talkie.
“Tate, how many?” You asked and waited for a reply.
“15, they call themselves the Saviors. We have them surrounded,” Tate replied, however, you didn’t hear the rest after the mention of the Saviors.
“(Y/N)?” Earl asked, looking you over as you froze in shock. Feeling the tugging at your waist, you looked down and saw your daughter who had his hair and eye shape stare back up at you.
“Mommy, you okay?” She asked as you smiled down at her and pet her hair, smoothing out fly aways.
“Mommy needs you to stay here okay? Don’t come out until I come and get you,” you stated, motioning for one of the other mothers in the community to watch over your kid. Walking away, you grabbed one of the rifles and followed your group out to the woods to meet the man who forgot you.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” You asked from behind the line of men that barricaded the group.
“We are here to hopefully discuss trading opportunities,” Negan stated, not picking up on voice recognition.
“And by trading opportunities you mean pillaging and plundering.”
“If it comes to it, yes.” Simon spoke as you rolled your eyes, making your way through the crowd to the front to face your husband.
“Not a fan,” you spoke with rigor as you saw Negan stiffen, finally comprehending who was behind him.
“(Y/N),” he whispered, straining against the rope around his wrists.
“Hi honey. Miss me?” You asked with spite as you circled his group, coming to face him.
“As a matter of fact I do,” he admitted and for a second your face softened before turning back to a shell.
“We don't want to trade with you.”
“Babe, you should, I wouldn’t want to use force on you,” he replied with a sick smirk as you let out a laugh.
“I don't think you're in much position to bargain right now, sweetie,” you spat out as he growled and tried to launch forward to you, only to fail.
“Mommy!” Your daughter called out to you as you froze, Negan noticed and looked at you quizzically before turning his attention to the little girl who ran toward you.
“Baby, what did I say?”
“To stay back.”
“Now why are you out here?”
“I don’t have my doll,” she spoke softly as you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before pulling out her doll from your pocket.
“Is she mine?” He asked, earning confused stares from everyone in your group and his. Both groups knew that you are married, they just didn't know that you were pregnant or that your kid was Negan’s.
“It's none of your concern anymore,” you replied, pushing your kid behind you while she peered at the man in front of you.
“(Y/N), if she's mine I have the right to have her with me.”
“Not anymore, you lost that right when you started sleeping around with other women. Listen, we’ll let you go if you promise to never come back here again. if you do come back, we will kill you on sight.” Nodding, he remained silent and glanced over to your daughter who was around 4 years old now.
“Are we letting them go?” Tate asked as you nodded, walking away from the scene, taking your daughter’s hand and leading her away from her father.
Later that night you strolled through the yard and checked everything over before you heard a roar of a car come up to the gates.
“(Y/N), I think it’s him,” one of the guards yelled to you as you nodded, signaling them to let you past the gates and out to the open where Negan leaned against his car.
“Is she?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?” He asked with a hint of remorse scattered across his face as you looked at him.
“I tried, I tried getting you to come to my room every night to tell you but you were so busy with all of your other wives that you never did. So I ran. I knew it isn’t safe there for her, it’s not safe there for me either.”
“How far were you when you left?”
“Three months. Her name is Sarah,” you mentioned as he smiled softly and looked at you.
“She looks like you,” he mumbled as you scoffed and looked over your shoulder, looking up at the guards who had their rifles aimed at him.
“She acts like you,” you smiled meekly, running your palms down your jeans.
“I never meant to ignore you. I’m sorry I did, but I would really like to be apart of her life,” he stated as he took your hands in his and you couldn’t find the heart to pull away, missing the physical attention he gave from time to time.
“It's not going to work.”
“(Y/N), please, she’s mine. I am her father. At least let me meet her.”
“No Negan. You’re not safe for her. The sanctuary isn't safe for her. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I miss you.”
“Your pity won’t work on me. I’m not weak anymore.”
“You never were,” he admitted as you locked eyes with him, drawn in by his hypnotic gaze but quickly pulled away. Thinking for a minute, you sighed in defeat.
“If you want her in your life, here are some rules. Your Saviors leave us alone, if one of them comes near here that isn’t you, your privilege to see Sarah are gone, as well as your men. You can come by twice a month by yourself and you will be supervised by me. Under no circumstance is she going to the Sanctuary. Deal?” You rambled as he nodded before pulling you into his arms, wrapping around you tightly.
“Thank you. I really do miss you,” he whispered as you stood still before slowly melting in his hug, relishing the way his body heat covers you.
“I miss you too. Don’t fuck this up.”
“I won’t.” He replied before pulling away and getting in his car, driving away, leaving you to ponder all of your thoughts.
A/N OMG THIS IS SO LONG TOO
#negan#negan x ofc#negan x y/n#negan x reader#Female reader#reader insert#the saviors#the sanctuary#the walking dead imagines#the walking dead requests#the walking dead#anonymous#anon request#imagine#twd imagine#jeffrey dean morgan#reader
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RED DRESS
Part 2/2 of Nice Things
//
“Come on, we’re going to be late.”
“Five minutes, sweetheart. Please.”
Gavin rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed with a thump. The day had finally come when the human was more punctual than the android. He sniggered at the thought but refrained from saying it out loud. Nines looked far more serious than he ought to for a Friday night.
“Babe, it’s just the guys. And Tina.”
Nines ignored him in favor of twirling a mascara wand through his lashes.
“We’re literally going to Abick’s. That’s like the oldest, grungiest cop bar you can-”
“It’s not the place or the company, sweetheart.”
Gavin watched Nines finish off with eyeliner. Somehow even androids’ mouths hung open in concentration while doing that.
He stood up from the little pouffe and shook his long hair out with a flourish. Taking that as his cue, Gavin got up and pressed himself up against his lover’s back. He curled his arms around Nines’ trim waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.
Their eyes met in the mirror of the wooden dresser that Gavin had built for Nines.
“Whatchu so gorgeous for?”
Nines tried, but couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.
“Shut up and zip me up.”
It wasn’t like he couldn’t reach behind himself and do it on his own. The RK900 model was supremely dexterous, flexible to the point of double-jointedness.
It was more of an implicit request for the human’s approval of the outfit. Nines didn’t need it, but he asked anyway… just like later that night, Gavin would ask him if it was okay to splurge on a bacon cheeseburger or order an extra shot in his whiskey coke…
They were codependent like that.
Gavin left one hand on the android’s stomach and placed the other on the small of his back, just at the opening of the dress. His thumb grazed the zipper, but he didn’t demonstrate any further intent to pull it up.
“You said we were going to be late.”
Gavin swept the dark curtain of hair aside and pressed his lips to the exposed skin at the nape of Nines’ neck. When he spoke it was a whisper.
“Why’s my babydoll looking like something out of a movie for my dumb little promotion party?”
His hand slipped into the open flap of the dress. It was a simple knee-length a-line. Fairly modest, but something about it set Gavin’s heart racing. Perhaps the colour. A vibrant, lusty, sexy, show-stopping red in sharp contrast to the milky white synthskin.
Nines couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him at the touch. Sighing, he tipped his head back and let Gavin nuzzle his neck.
“Hmm?”
“Now we’re really going to be late, sweetheart. Zip… hhhhh… zip… me up…”
“Come on, doll. I don’t want someone accidentally spilling beer or mustard on this pretty little thing you got on. It’s just gonna be a chill night out with our friends. They demanded a treat for my promotion, and Hank said he’d come too, so I picked a place he’d be more comfortable at, and I realise that’s not exactly your scene, but I’m glad you’re coming with me, but I really gotta say this dress-”
Nines turned around in Gavin’s grasp and silenced him with a kiss.
“It’s not the place or the company,” he repeated, putting his arms around the human’s neck.
“It’s your promotion party. It’s about your achievements, your hard work, YOU. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re the most important person in my life. My partner in more ways than one. My everything.
Your rise in stature means as much if not more to me than my own accomplishments. I’m not the RK900 with the impeccable solve rate. I’m Sergeant Reed’s better half.
If I had it my way we’d be doing something much grander, but this is how you want to celebrate and that’s fine, but please don’t stop me from dressing for the occasion.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Steel blue and storm green locked in stalemate.
Then Gavin pulled Nines into a tight embrace. He released him abruptly and spun him around, zipping up the dress in a flash. Avoiding eye contact lest the tears pricking his eyes betray him, Gavin caught the android’s hand in his and marched out of the apartment.
//
Connor greeted them at the entrance of the bar and waved them over to where the motley crew sat, already well into their first round of drinks.
Hank raised his beer glass in greeting, wearing an orange striped shirt he apparently deemed worthy of festivities. Tina enveloped Gavin in a giant hug. For a good thirty seconds he could see nothing but flannel. Then Miller, Person and countless other officers took turns congratulating him and bringing up past cases or incidents they couldn’t believe hadn’t held Gavin’s career back.
Nines extricated himself with an artful wave of long fingers and settled onto a bar stool beside his older brother Sixty and his husband Allen. Serious, snarky and clad in their usual black leather, these two were more Nines’ speed.
Ignoring Sixty’s irritated grumble, Nines took a sip of his thirium drink to see if he liked the taste and ordered one for himself. He was prepared to spend the rest of the night sitting still and not touching the many sticky, greasy surfaces in the bar. It wasn’t his idea of fun, but he was happy to let Gavin and his friends do their thing.
Gavin, however, didn’t seem to be in the mood. He humoured his friends (many of whom were now his direct reports) and played along with whatever they insisted on doing, but Nines felt his partner’s eyes on him the entire evening.
“You punishing him?”
“Hmm?”
Sixty was squinting at him shrewdly.
“For coming to this shithole to celebrate. That’s why you wore this? Poor bastard can’t keep his eyes off you.”
Nines swatted his brother on the chest.
“I don’t play games like you.”
“Who says I play games?”
Allen shook his head but didn’t look up from his phone.
“I have a fashion sense, Six, not an agenda. I’m not punishing him for anything.”
“Well, you’re certainly distracting him. Reminds me of the time Allen said something stupid while we were getting ready for a shift so I put on lingerie underneath my gear. He nearly fell off a roof that day.”
Allen buried his face in his hands while Nines laughed out loud.
“Shiiit. Your guy looks fucking lovesick. In front of all his staff too. They’re gonna think he’s a total sap. A new authority figure like him has got to show some grit.”
“Six, your husband follows you around like a lost puppy but that hasn’t interfered with his ability to lead your unit. Gavin will be fine.”
Allen didn’t know whether to consider that an insult or a compliment and settled for sipping his drink in silence.
“So what are you gonna do?”
“To?”
“Make the torture worth his while.”
At that exact moment, Gavin gave Nines a look from across the bar that could have only one interpretation. Sixty noticed and barked a laugh.
Nines self-consciously tucked his hair behind his ear and smoothed down his dress. If he were human he’d have blushed bright red.
Back to idly scrolling through his phone, Allen spoke without looking up.
“Let him do whatever he wants.”
Nines’ eyes widened. Sixty nodded wisely.
“His imagination is probably running all over the place right now. All you have to do is let him act on it and you’ll make him the happiest man on earth. It’s his promotion. You should be the prize.”
Allen put down his phone and scooted closer to Sixty, wrapping his arms around the android. They both looked at Nines with identical expressions that were anything but innocent.
“Yeah, Nines. Dress like a present, expect to be unwrapped.”
Raucous cheers erupted as Gavin lost yet another game of beer pong. The new sergeant barely noticed and took the shot glass thrust into hand by a very jubilant Connor. Nines raised his glass in a silent toast and the two downed their drinks together.
The rest of the evening was an exercise in painful self-restraint. Gavin entertained various playful requests and posed for photos and thanked each and every one of his colleagues for their strong support. Hank clapped him on the shoulder proudly, and Tina even teared up at one point, emotionally overcome with happiness for her oldest and closest friend. Nines watched it all quietly from his perch beside Sixty and Allen.
//
As soon as they slid into an autonomous taxi, Gavin’s lips were on his, smothering him in heated, demanding kisses. Intoxicated and utterly uninhibited, the human put his hands in Nines’ hair… all over his body… and up the pretty red dress. No words were exchanged the entire ride home.
The fact that android skin could not be marked or bruised was the only thing that let them walk through their busy lobby and ride the elevator up with dignity intact.
As soon as the front door slammed shut, Gavin was all over Nines. He touched and groped and claimed and conquered.
The dress zipper was pulled down as quickly as it had been pulled up before they left for the bar. Nines stepped out of the puddle of red fabric as delicately as he could and pulled Gavin’s shirt off too. It was only the high quality gyroscope of the RK900 model that kept them from crashing to the floor before making it to the bed.
Nines allowed himself to be pushed onto the bed and parted his legs for Gavin to easily settle between them. From there, he expected things to go at lightning speed… for Gavin to plough into him and come with a loud roar after a couple minutes, finally sated after a night of frustration.
The exact opposite occurred.
Even after all the tequila shots Connor and Tina made him do, Gavin was somehow still lucid enough to put his lover’s feelings over immediate physical needs.
“Babe, I… am soooo… sorry…”
One hand wound up in his hair and the other gripped his hip.
“Like.. you dressed the phck up… like you looked soooooo damn beautiful, baby… I’m gonna cry.”
For a moment, it honestly looked like that was a possibility until Nines reached up and stroked the human’s stubbled cheek.
“I know Abick’s is kinda crusty but you came anyway… looking like a million bucks but I didn’t spend a second with you… T and Con and the crew… they kinda took over…”
“It’s fine, sweetheart. It was our whole team’s night as much as yours. I’m glad they all had their fun.”
“I didn't. Have any fun.”
“Really? Not even when Chris did that Fowler impersonation?”
“Couldn’t stop… thinking of you… you’re so damn good to me… and I…”
“I was fine. You invited Six and Allen to keep me company and it was fiiiineee.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Now come on, sarge. Show me who’s boss.”
Nines rolled his hips against Gavin’s and that was all the conversation there was to be had for the night. They were both still getting used to having nice things… but they were doing well.
//
Inspired by @marndraws
#reed900#rk900#dbh rk900#dbh nines#dbh gavin#gavin reed#gavin900#gavin x rk900#gavin x nines#background allen60#long haired nines#red dress#tooth rotting fluff
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Time Travel Stony Fanfic
Character from the Future travels to the Past
A Shadow Hanging Over Our Fate by CaptainDean13
Summary: The Avengers get sent back in time to WWII where they run into the Howling Commandos... complete with Bucky and Steve. Little hard to explain that away, especially when you are trying to keep some major secrets. Secrets like how you ended up in the future and why the hell Bucky is now a scary (reformed) assassin with a metal arm, not to mention that you married your friend's son.
Note: A 1000/10 READ. THIS IS SO FREAKIN’ GOOD THAT I READ IT 3 TIMES SINCE I FIRST FOUND IT LAST YEAR. It’s a nice and well written time travel fic with the howling commandos and past Steve and Bucky!!
A New Way For Us by ann2who
Summary: They fight Thanos—and they’re losing. And before Tony knows what’s happening, he’s standing with Doctor Strange in front of the Eye of Agamotto and gets send back in time. Can he find a way to fix things this time around, or are they doomed to fall apart all over again?
Note: This is where Tony went back in time to fix everything that went wrong and prepare for the arrival of Thanos! Due to an unexpected twist of fate, he found himself getting closer to Steve of all people!
Two More Miracles (To Be A Saint) by queenpenthesilea
Summary: “Get up, Stark, you sleep too much. You said you would teach me paper football.”
Tony’s eyes snapped open. No. No. Had it all been a dream? Had he just imagined five years – five years - of an idyllic life, complete with a beautiful, wonderful daughter? He pushed himself up, looking around; he was on the Milano – he was on the fucking Milano, and either this was a really weird version of hell or everything had been a dream. Or, a little voice whispered, something had gone horribly, horribly wrong with the infinity stones.
Note: A nice and juicy post-Endgame Time Travel fanfic!! Though, this one held a few what ifs.
Saving the World is a 12 Step Program by janonny
Summary: Tony and Steve fall to pieces when Thanos’ wins.
Then they pick themselves up, and find a solution. They also find something infinitely more precious in the process.
-
“It’s going to sound pretty outrageous,” Tony admitted, rubbing a hand over his brow. While he had put on some weight and wasn’t as gaunt anymore, he was still easily tired nowadays.
“More outrageous than talking racoons and a purple villain traveling through space to collect magic stones?” Steve asked drily.
Note: This is another post-Endgame fanfic but with a twist and different take on the whole time travel!
Oh, Snap by wedelia
Summary: Peter wakes up, and he’s simultaneously five years too early and right on time.
Or, Post-Endgame Peter goes back in time and accidentally-on-purpose gets Steve and Tony together before the initial snap happens. And, oh, yeah—he also recruits a former-Air-Force-pilot-turned-galactic-hero, has lunch with Black Widow, and somehow befriends Nick Fury. This changes things.
Note: It’s Peter who time travels this time around!!
If We Never Got This Second Chance by Pookaseraph
Summary: When Tony and Steve’s son from the future, Jake Jensen, arrives at Avenger’s Tower, the two of them are forced to confront some hard truths: Tony that he might not actually become a horrible father, and Steve that he might not be able to set aside his discomfort with sharing a child with another man. When they both get a second chance at a first try at fatherhood, it’s up to the two of them to learn from their own future's past.
Note: Anyone up for some future son time travel? Enjoy this nicely written fanfic of Stony’s future son traveling and meeting the past versions of his parents! Past versions that are not even together yet! Things are about to get weird for Steve and Tony.
Your Name on Every Wall by Sineala
Summary: The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he's ever going to be able to mend things between them.
Note: A unique plot where Steve travels to the future and realizes what he is missing on!
Together, At Dawn by RoseGoldAmpersand
Summary: Steve returns the Infinity Stones to New York and finds himself in conversation with Tony of the past. More mature and willing to listen to Tony he realises that what he previously thought were taunts was actually Tony flirting with him.
In light of this new discovery and alone in Tony’s workshop after the battle of New York, one thing leads to another...
Note: ohhhhh, some juicy smut anyone?
Don't Look Back, You Can Never Look Back. by iL0Vsuperman
Summary: Tony Stark: billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and, now, superhero.
It’d only been a few months prior that he’d revealed to the world he was Iron Man and life couldn’t be better.
That is…until he stumbled upon an old abandoned Hydra lab and kinda set off one of their machines by accident. A blast of blue light later and he found himself in the same lab…only it is seventy years earlier and it is full of Hydra agents.
Cue the entrance of the Howling Commandos led by Tony’s childhood hero, Captain America.
Suddenly, Tony is living out a dream. He’s joining up with the Commandos in the search to get Tony back to his right era. It’s the adventure of a lifetime and, at first, it’s amazing…but then he and Steve connect in ways more than just friendship and he finds that he is torn between wanting to stay with him or go back home.
In the end, whatever the result, he loses.
Note: Tony meets his childhood heroes-the Howling Commandos and Captain America!
The Future is Yet in Your Power by FestiveFerret
Summary: "Now." Wong leaned back in his chair. "What would you do to save this world from Thanos' attack? What would you sacrifice?"
"Anything," Steve said. "Anything at all."
Wong considered him for a moment, expression unreadable. "There's one thing, maybe."
Note: This is nice fanfic about Steve putting everything on the line to hopefully make a change.
The Good or Bad Thing by petreparkour for SeetheSea
summary: “It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”
“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”
“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.“
Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”
Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.
Note: Future Tony and Steve accidentally traveling in the past!
Character from the Past travels to the Future
hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi
Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.
He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.
What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.
This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.
Note: ANGST! READY YOUR TISSUES.
Twice Upon a Time by TsaritsaElena
Summary: Tony Stark has never had an easy relationship with his father, but when Howard Stark circa 1983 time travels to the future in a freak accident, things get even more complicated, especially since Tony is dating his dad’s idol, Captain America, and Howard doesn’t know. As they work toward a solution that will restore Howard to his own timeline, will Tony get a second chance at a father-son relationship with his dad, or is he in for more of the same unforgiving treatment from Howard? Time travel, Avengers missions, and a secret project of Howard’s: things at Stark Tower are about to get a little crazy.
Note: SOME MORE ANGST AND HOWARD TRAVELLING TO THE FUTURE.
The Future Is Ours (Whether We Want It Or Not) by ann2who
Summary: After a hit from the Time Stone, Steve switches places with his future self.
Note: Another of Steve traveling to the future! Though this time, it features both timeline! Both POV of the past and future!
Ordinary Men by RiaRose
Summary: "Aren't you at all happy to see me?" Howard shot back, holding his glass out and pointing with his index finger. At Steve's stony face, he dropped his arm. "Want a glass?" he tried, picking up an empty tumbler, "This is good stuff."
"Tony doesn't skimp on - well - anything. And no, thank you."
"Was that Tony?" he queried, gesturing toward the hallway the other man had disappeared down. Steve nodded but didn't give any more information, so Howard repeated his earlier question, "Aren't you happy to see me?"
It took Steve a moment to answer. Howard could see his jaw working.
"No, not anymore."
OR
In which Howard travels to the future and just messes up everybody's day, Steve is conflicted, and Tony is a piping hot mess, as per usual. It's not going to be easy, but Steve and Tony have to somehow navigate through Howard's arrival and the strain it puts on their relationship.
Note: From the summary alone, you can tell that THIS WILL BE ANGSTY.
To Have My Time Again... by WilmaKins
Summary: It's been two years since Siberia, and Tony Stark is still dealing with the fallout - personal and political. Life is quite complicated enough, without Bruce falling through a wizards roof yelling that Thanos is coming.
Thor and Loki are stalling, but time is running out. The fate of the universe is at stake. Steve Rogers is back in the picture. Really, the last thing Tony needs is for their plan to go horribly wrong and bring Howard Stark forward in time.
But his Dad *is* standing in his office, whether he likes it or not.
So, it looks like Tony will have to fix that mess too.
Note: There is just something about Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfics.
Howard Stark Meets The Avengers by SerlinaBlack
Summary: Howard Stark unknowingly travels to the future with his son and wife. Luckily the heroes of the future were somewhat ready for it. Unluckily , they don't seem to like him very much
Alternative summery: when will Howard learn? Not now lmao.
Note: ANOTHER ONE.
#stony#stony fanfiction#stony fanfic#stony fic#stony fic rec#stevetony#stevetony fic rec#steve and tony#steve and tony fic#superhusbands#stevetony fanfic
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Brothers || Ragnarsons x sister!reader
Summary: Your brothers can be a little overprotective towards their little sister
Warnings: None
Words: 3249
Authors: Cass & Rouge
Ragnar's return caused quite a stir among people of Kattegat.
When the news came to your ears, you had been hunting outside but you quickly went back to the settlement.
Mob was chanting Ragnar's name on and on, gathering in the main square.
As you spotted your older brothers lined in one place, you pushed yourself to get to them.
Bjørn wasn't happy with Ragnar's return yet he knew one day this had to happen.
He had so many questions to ask, so much bitterness and spite grew within his soul for the years when his father was gone.
Ubbe grabbed you tightly by the waist as soon as you pushed through them so you won't just run to Ragnar like nothing ever happened.
"Slow down, little one," he said, stopping you in the place.
Ragnar smiled at his sons and daughter. "So, this is how it's gonna be? You will just pretend you see someone less important than all?"
He frowned looking at you all for a moment longer before pulling out his sword and walking closer to Hvitserk. "So, maybe one of you should kill me to claim the title?!,” Raganr roared and Hvitserk flinched, looking at his siblings.
Bjørn was standing in the crowd, not manifesting his presence yet, it was too early, and on the other hand he was willing to see what would happen.
Ivar, who finally managed to crawl to the place his siblings gathered at, raised his chin up, fixing his blue eyes on his father.
You were tugging onto your loose blouse, a part of your hunting attire. Too many thoughts were spinning around your head at the moment, but you couldn't deny you did miss the father.
Ragnar smiled as he plunged his sword into the ground. "Come on! Who wants to be a king?!," He challenged one more time, waiting for any reaction.
Ivar looked at Hvitserk and Sigurd as he was between them. Then his glance moved back to Ragnar; the young man didn't blink.
You also were paralyzed with fear and anxiety as your father raised his tone.
"Just keep her in place," Ubbe muttered to Hvitserk as he let go of you to walk out to the front, ready to fight his father.
Hvitserk gave you a reassuring smile as he moved a little closer to you.
Ragnar looked at him and smiled, it was brave to stand against your own father. Soon, Ubbe was pulled into a tight hug by his father.
Both of them laughed softly and Ragnar gestured for the rest of you to come closer as well.
You were the first one to jolt towards your father. You simply pushed Ubbe aside and wrapped your arms around Ragnar's neck, climbing on your tiptoes to place a kiss to his cheek. "Dad! I was longing for you!"
Ivar crawled towards his father as well, being left behind Sigurd and Hvitserk. He waited patiently for Ragnar to notice him.
Ragnar chuckled as he hugged you tightly than looked at you and Ivar proudly. "Look at you two, my youngest children. My twins. I missed you all. You look like a princess and you grew up a lot," Ragnar said, placing a hand on Ivar's hair.
"Well he for sure didn't get any taller," Hvitserk muttered to Ubbe and both laughed quietly.
You simply aimed a blow at Hvitserk should. "Quit it, both of you!"
Ivar closed eyes, enjoying the touch of his father's hand. "Been a lot of time, dad," he said finally. "I always knew sooner or later you'll come back to us."
This was the moment Bjørn decided to join. He pushed between two huge men and crossed arms over his chest as his glance met Ragnar's. "Why did you come back?"
"Hey! Don't hit me," Hvitserk muttered, rubbing his shoulder.
"What? Our princess hit you too hard?," Ubbe teased his brother but they both went quiet when they saw Bjørn approaching.
Ragnar patted Ivar's shoulder and got up to look at the oldest son. "I wanted to see my children, I missed you all and I missed our home."
"You went away years ago. You didn't care to let us know whether you were alive and now you suddenly pop up here, expecting everyone to fill into your arms? Everything had changed, father," Bjørn said. "What's your real purpose?"
Ragnar sighed, opening his arms slightly with a little shrug. "No real purpose. I just wanted to see my kids all grown up, strong, beautiful."
"Bjørn, leave him. Maybe he really changed," Ubbe said shortly.
"The truth is we all kinda missed him. No matter what he is still our father," Hvitserk quickly added.
Bjørn scoffed, turned around and left, vanishing in the crowd.
You grabbed your father's hand and squeezed it. "I bet you're tired and hungry. Come with us, you need a meal."
Ragnar cringed a little, he didn't want to go but against himself he nodded, following you. "A good warm meal would be wonderful, my dear," he said.
Ubbe and Hvitserk picked up Ivar.
"Come on, little brother. We don't want you to get lost on the way to the Great hall," Ubbe joked.
Ivar grinned wryly but let his older brothers help him back to their home.
Once you got inside, you immediately shifted a chair for Ragnar. "Ubbe, pass me the chalice with wine," you asked Ragnar's eldest. "Shall I bring mother?"
Ubbe set Ivar in his seat and patted his brother's hair before looking at you. "Since when are you the one giving orders?," He asked with a frown.
Hvitserk rolled his eyes and passed you the chalice. "Here, sister," he said and sat down.
Ragnar licked his lips and shook his head. "No, No... No need to bother your dearest mother. I will find her myself later," he assured.
You simply patted father's head and kissed top of it. "Your wish is my command, dad."
You pretended you didn't hear Ubbe's comment aimed at you and thanked Hvitserk politely for complying.
Sigurd brought a spoon and a clean bowl for Ragnar. "Here."
Ragnar nodded his head and took the plate. Soon he started to eat.
Everyone was quiet just looking between each other and their father. No one knew what to say.
"So, dad, where have you been for all this time?," You asked simply, offering chalices with wine to your brothers.
"I traveled and I lived in the mountains. I also had a lot of stuff to rethink, everything that happened in my life so far," Ragnar explained. "I saw many beautiful places."
"What places had you seen, father?," Ivar asked, curiosity in his low tone as he propped head on hands rested on the table counter.
Ragnar was quiet for a moment, chewing on his food. He took a sip of his wine. "I visited a place so high that I could touch the northern lights by my own and lakes so deep that monsters lived in them.”
Ubbe and Hvitserk looked at each other and laughed quietly.
Ivar completely sunk into his father's stories. When his brothers laughed, he grabbed the nearest knife and threw it into Ubbe's direction. "Shut up! I'm listening to dad! If you're not interested then just leave and go fuck your Margareth!"
You blinked, being totally taken aback by your twin's behavior. "I suggest everyone cool down."
Ubbe took the knife that got stuck right next to his head and angrily plunged it into the table.. "I at least can go to her and fuck her, cripple," he snarled and retuened to his seat. "Those wonderful places sound just like a child stories mother told us to make us go to sleep sooner."
"Ubbe!," You raised your tone and got up from your place, narrowing your brows. "It doesn't mean that father is lying to us. We all heard stories told by Harbard as well. They were more impossible yet everyone believed in them."
Ubbe chuckled. "Harbard was just like our father. Coming and leaving as he pleased, filling our heads with stories," eldest Ragnar’s son rolled his eyes. ”But what do we know? All those men cared about was the cripple and women cunts, Sigurd knew it by himself, Y/N."
Ragnar watched the fighting between his children. "I really don't think it's a right time to fight, children. We should be happy we are back together again."
You looked at your older brother with a sad glance. "Oh, how skilled you are in killing the atmosphere. You got the worst of mother," you grunted and got up. "Stop looking at simple things and at least try to look beyond, Ubbe," you snapped before you left the chamber.
Ivar put his forehead on his hands. "Congratulations, brother, you made her little inner monster going."
"Whatever you say, brother,” Ubbe rolled his eyes. "Do you know where I can find Ole? The boy that is sniffing around Y/N?," Ubbe asked simply, smoothly changing the topic.
"Docks or stable," Ivar replied.
"Why do you want to meet him?," Sigurd asked.
"Well, he is sniffing around our sister. I am going to make sure he doesn't get under her skirt too quickly, I heard he likes to treat girls like toys," Ubbe pointed at Sigurd and Hvitserk. "You two are going to help me. First we will go to docks and to stables later. Move your asses," Ubbe ordered.
"I better go to make sure he won’t kill the poor boy," Hvitserk commented and quickly got up from his seat to follow his brother.
"Wait! Ubbe, wait! What with me?!," Ivar screamed after his brothers.
Ubbe stopped and nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Right, she is your twin after all."
Ubbe himself with Sigurd returned for Ivar.
"Come on, we are going to scare him a little," he said, picking his brother up.
Ragnar just sat there, enjoying the food and drink. "At least they somehow look for each other," he muttered.
Ivar growled when Ubbe and Sigurd helped him up. I can easily make him cry."
Hvitserk laughed and nodded. "Sure, sure. We will see that soon."
Boys checked the docks first but Ole wasn't there so they went to stables. The boy was there flirting with some stable girl who definitely wasn't you.
".... Your hair, sweetie," Ole said to the girl while playing with the loose strand of her hair. "So pretty. I can have a use for you!"
Boys watched him from far away.
"I told you," Ubbe said pointing at Ole.
After a few more minutes of sweet talk they decided to step in. They sat Ivar on the nearest barrel and walked closer to Ole. Ubbe casually wrapped arm around the boy and smiled at him. "Oh, will you, friend? I wonder what use? The same as for our sister?," He hummed with amusement. "Frida, you can go now. I'll see you later,"
Frida gave all men a sweet smile and quickly ran away.
"So what will we do with him, brother?,” Hvitserk asked, looking at his siblings.
Ole raised his hands up in the air, shaking his head strongly. "It's not like you think. We were speaking of a raid! I wanted to train her for a shield maiden, she's pretty good at stuff!"
Ivar, who still was sitting at the barrel, chuckled darkly and looked around. "You're digging yourself a grave, friend."
"Yes. Frida is not a shield maiden material. Trust me, I deeply checked it many times," Ubbe patted Ole's shoulder. "But she is good at stuff, riding is her best."
Others chuckled.
"Do you think our sister is a toy? That you can play and throw away?," Hvitserk asked with a frown.
"You can do nothing against me. Y/N is madly in love with me. She's silly enough to think she's the number one for me. And oh, she moans my name lovely when I kiss her neck!"
Ivar had enough. He rolled off the barrel and crawled quickly to the other man. He pulled a dagger out of his boot and cut the man's ankle a few times.
Ole fell down on the hey.
Other brothers didn't react much, they just looked at Ole.
"Maybe after ankles we should cut him manhood?," Hvitserk asked with a smile. "Maybe he will learn that playing with few women at the time may be dangerous?"
Ubbe crouched next to the boy and looked at Ivar. "What do you think brother? How does this idea sound?," He asked and then his gaze moved to Ole. "We could easily do that."
"Take his pants off," Ivar said in a low tone. "I'll cut this little thing off."
"What do you say to that idea, Ole?," Hvitserk asked with a nasty smile, crossing arms over his chest.
Ole was already crying. His body trembled with every loud sob.
Suddenly Ragnarssons could hear a loud grunt. As they turned to see the source, they spotted Bjørn, who stood next to them with arms crossed over his chest. "What the fuck, guys?"
"Taking care of the trash,” Ivar shrugged, playing with his dagger.
"We are teaching him a lesson," Hvitserk said proudly.
"He thinks he can tell our little sister that she is his only one. When he is involved with most girls in Kattegat," Ubbe explained quickly. "We decided to show him to not fuck with Ragnar's daughter.”
Bjørn listened to their explanation. "I see. But violence is not a solution to any problem."
Hvitserk raised his eyebrow. "Do you think that asking him nicely to stop cheating on our sister would help, brother?"
Ubbe and Ivar rolled their eyes.
"Whatever, you're the most intelligent one among all of our people," Bjørn scoffed and observed the situation.
"Then what do you suggest, Bjørn Ironside,” Ubbe asked in a mocking tone. "You will just let him play with our little sister? Break her heart, over and over again?”
"No," he replied. "Exile. That's what awaits him now," Bjørn looked down at the man on the hay.
Brothers looked between each other and nodded slowly.
"I like the idea, we will free our little sister and other girls from him. Guess it's your lucky day, Ole! You will keep your sad, little cock."
Bjørn gestured at Hvitserk so his stepbrother picked Ole up. "Lead him outside settlement. Confiscate all of his weapons and let him go."
"With a pleasure brother!," He said and followed the order.
The evening came quickly.
Ragnar was long gone, which didn't surprise boys at all. It only made Ivar kinda disappointed.
Boy sat around the big table just eating supper, drinking while joking and sharing some stories about women and other topics.
All conversations died when you stormed inside crying and yelling at them.
Because of your shaken state no one really understood what you were on about.
"Y/N! What is wrong? Why are you screaming at us suddenly?," Ubbe asked with a frown.
You sat in the corner of the room, grabbing a blanket from the armchair before. You pulled it over your figure and sobbed loudly. "I hate you. All of you! Why did you do this to me?! My Ole! My Ole is gone! It's all your fault! People told me!"
All the boys groaned annoyed with your reaction.
They didn't do it to hurt you in any way, they did it to protect you.
"Y/N. There is a lot you didn't know about Ole. He fucked half of Kattegat behind your back, just to tell you later you are the only one," Ubbe said, looking at you.
"Yes. When we found him in stables he was flirting with other girl and he openly told us that he fuck others behind your back," Hvitserk added quickly to back up his brother.
Ivar was the only one who decided to approach you.
With a lot of difficulties he got off his chair and rolled to his stomach so he could crawl towards you.
Once he did, he poked your knee to catch your attention. "He was bad and Gods my witnesses that I'd cut him all open but they stopped me."
You looked down at Ivar and let huge tears still roll down your red cheeks.
Ivar laid on his stomach and reached his hand out, and as gently as possible he wiped the tears off your cheek with the top of his palm. "Don't cry, sister, you're too beautiful to be all sad. He's gone but you deserved far more than that."
Others followed Ivar, they all sat close to you.
"Ivar is right, sister. You are beautiful and you deserved a man that would love only you. No other woman on the side," Hvitserk said softly, giving you a friendly smile. "And Ole wasn't this kind of the man."
"You may think we did this because we are assholes but this is not true, Y/N,” Ubbe said, wrapping arm around you. "You are our little sister and we won't let some idiot to break your heart."
Sigurd crouched next to Ubbe. "Even if I hate to break it to you, sister, that man was not worth anything but exile."
Bjørn, who came to speak with Ubbe, stopped at the threshold of the Great Hall, observing the scene.
Even if you weren't his biological sister, he always cared for you just like he cared for his step brothers.
You reached hand to Ivar and placed it to his cheek, gently grazing his skin. "Thank you," you gasped loudly.
They all smiled and hugged you tightly, happy that their little sister wasn't that angry about it all.
"You can be sure we'll scare away anyone who tries to hurt you in any way possible. That's what brothers are for. Even your cripple twin,” Ubbe teased, ruffling Ivar's hair.
Ivar offered his elder brother a smug smirk. "You would not survive without me for a single day."
You couldn't help but chuckled and knelt, trying to hug all of them.
Ivar moved closer and wrapped arm around your leg.
Bjørn who caught your glance nodded at you. "Family reunion."
"Yes, but we are missing one brother. Come here, throwing that trash out was your idea after all. Without you he would be dead now," Ubbe said.
Bjørn smiled and came closer. He shared a hug with everyone except you. When other men shifted aside, including Ivar who also grunted unhappily, Bjørn helped you up and picked you up. "Even if you're only a step sister to me, I want you to be safe and happy."
"How about we eat something now? Eat and drink! The anger and crying had to drain you," Hvitserk offered happily.
"And later we can find her a good man among warriors," Ubbe joked.
You cringed. "No, thank you. I already have a very important man by my side," you claimed and when Bjørn put you down, you knelt and shared a long and string hug with Ivar. "My lovely, handsome twin-brother."
Sigurd chuckled darkly. "What about us, little one?! We're also handsome!"
"And lovely!,” Hvitserk whined.
"And we take care of you," Ubbe added.
Bjørn poked Ubbe's shoulder. "They're twins. They have a stronger relation, it's normal. And, well, Y/N is right, Ivar’s the most handsome of you all."
Ubbe gasped and pushed Bjørn's shoulder. "Shit up, Ironside."
Bjørn only ruffled Ubbe's hair, making it fully messy at the top of man's head. "We're family. Children of legendary Ragnar Lothbrok. This is what counts."
#hvitserk x reader#ubbe x reader#ivar x reader#sigurd x reader#bjorn x reader#ragnar x reader#fluff#dangerous siblings#ragnarssons#ubbe ragnarsson#ivar ragnarsson#hvitserk ragnarsson#sigurd snake in the eye#ivar the boneless#ragnarsdaughter!reader#ivar is twin#vikings x reader
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Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)
Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon
A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short
Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing
Wordcount: 1589
“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”
You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.
You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.
“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.
“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips.
“Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.
“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”
You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.
“Most certainly not me.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”
Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.
“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”
“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?”
Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.
Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.
“How’s the love life going?”
“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.
“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”
He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.
“Actually, quite the opposite?”
Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.
“What is it?”
You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.
“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”
Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?
“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.
“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”
You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.
“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”
“Who said something about fucking?”
You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.
“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.
“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “
“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.
“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”
“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”
“’Cause I like you.”
“Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”
“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?
“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”
“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine”
You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.
“See, I made you laugh”
“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.
“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.
“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”
You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.
“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.
You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.
“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.”
“I don’t!”
“You do, you like him.”
“I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”
But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.
**************************************************************************************
Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?
also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff
PART 2
#johnny lawrence#johnny lawrence imagine#johnny lawrence x reader#johnny lawrence fluff#badass reader#billy zabka#william zabka#cobra kai#cobra kai one shot#cobra kai imagine#karate kid#karate kid imagine
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Hey y'all!
@omegajasontoddweek is running awards!
I thought, you know, that it might be a good time to trot out a something of a masterlist of my OJT works. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
If I Told You
Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
“Ukhai!” Came a wail from the top of a stacked pile of crates. The pup’s voice was filled with fear and exhaustion.
“We don’t even know what he’s saying.” Nightwing whispered furiously. “He’s snapping at anyone that comes near and he won’t come down. I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s a League word.” Jason said as he joined them. “It means, roughly, ‘lead omega that is not mated to pack alpha’.”
“But we don’t have a pack omega.” Tim groaned. Jason snorted softly.
.
Strive for Stature (Transmutation)
Jason & Damian
His knees brushed something under the desk, causing it to crinkle. Reaching under, Damian pulled out a piece of paper that had been taped underneath. His heart jumped as he smoothed it out and read the message inscribed on it League script.
Coordinates, a time, and a reminder not to be seen.
As if he needed such an admonishment. He was almost insulted.
.
None So Devotional
Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Bruce didn’t need the blood on the blade — the tissue — to tell him that it was his pup under that helmet. He could smell him. The scent of tea on the wind, crisp mint and honey. Barely dampened by the rain. It was older. Mature. Omega.
Underneath, though, a new darker note. Something… twisted.
.
More than Blood - Warriorverse
Damian Wayne & Jason Todd
Damian stepped out of the shadows and into the alley. The boy scrambled to get to his feet, hand clenching convulsively around the tire iron. Blackwing’s eyes flicked to the Batmobile half a block away. He could see two tires missing and felt the edges of his mouth twitch.
Father was going to be pissed.
.
Debts Be Paid - Warriorverse
Damian Wayne & Jason Todd
The fate of Jason Todd is the same throughout the multiverse.
.
Most Mad and Moonly
Female Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne - E
“Leave!” It was almost a whimper as she pointed to the door.
“Jay.” The alpha’s voice was low.
She trembled. “B. Get out.”
Yet, she made no move to make him. That alone said more than anything else about what she wanted. That alone told him more than anything else about how she felt.
“You hid this.” Bruce was displeased. That his pack — his Jay — would hide such a thing from him.
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The Corner of Divinity
Jason Todd/Slade Wilson - E
He stared, heart in his throat. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The heavy tang of blood was thick in the air and his feet felt like lead. He couldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. Whatever he’d expected to find, it wasn’t this.
Deathstroke’s lips twisted in a smirk. “I hoped you would show.”
“How could I resist?” Jason drawled, grateful his helmet hid his voice and for the scent blocking patches on his neck. “It was such an artfully worded invitation.”
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Tidings of the Soul
Jason Todd & Dick Grayson
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As Fine As Spider Silk
Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Talia al Ghul
Jason receives a gift from Talia on Mother's Day.
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Where the Journey Always Leads
Jason Todd/Dick Grayson
A touch of anxiety twisted low in his gut. It was his first time running with Selina again after returning. He knew word would travel quickly of Stray’s reappearance at Catwoman’s side. There was no way they weren’t going to run into the Bat tonight.
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Suspending Gravity - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson - E
She froze once she entered the living room on the way. Slade Wilson, in all the glory of his Deathstroke armor, was stretched out on her couch, watching her. His heady alpha scent of gunmetal and cedarwood wafted over her. What the fuck was he doing here and how did she miss that when she came in?
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Vertigo - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“Why?” Dick asked, voice low with threat as he locked eyes with hers in challenge, “Why do you smell like Deathstroke, Little Wing?”
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Brace For It (This Means War) - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“You really want to hope that the distress signal went to the Bats.” She whispered hoarsely, malice sparkling in her eyes beside the agony. “Because my mate was scheduled to be back in town tonight and if he’s within 50 miles the signal gets sent to him instead.”
A feral grin stretched across her mouth, blood staining her teeth. “How lucky are you feeling tonight, Roman?”
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Hit the Window - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“Todd!” He barked again, eyeing the scarily still pile of fabric. There was no response. He stepped closer and whined, pitched to draw the attention of caregivers. There was a twitch from the pile but no further movement. This was bad. For an omega to ignore the call of a pup in need...
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Let You Wash Away - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“You almost died!” Stephanie snapped. “That’s hardly fine!”
Jay waved a hand flippantly, “Least I’d be out of your hair.” Cass gasped. Stephanie narrowed her eyes and Jay’s stomach dropped. Shit.
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Phoenix Among Feathers - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Jay paced back and forth across the room. Frustration and frenetic energy seeped from her frame as she glared at the phone on the breakfast bar. She didn’t really have much of a choice. She knew she was going to have to make the call.
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Baby, I'll Rule - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
She took it hesitantly. “Where did this even come from?”
Slade turned towards the mirror and focused on his tie, “Oh, you know. Around.”
The omega delicately arched a brow and looked at him. He studiously focused on getting his Eldredge knot just right… coincidently avoiding her gaze. “Funny.” Jay remarked. “I didn’t think Coronam Creations did anything other than custom work.”
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Birds in a Cage - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“Shut it!” She hissed. “It’s not fucking funny!”
“No,” he affirmed, “but you’re adorable.”
“I,” she started with quiet dignity, “am a dangerous international criminal. I am not adorable.”
“You’re hiding in a blanket because you got arrested for indecent exposure.”
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A Built-in Remedy - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“Trust me?”
She tensed. That was not a question that bode well for her.
“Why?”
Most alphas would be pissed that she hadn’t immediately acquiesced. Hers just ran a soothing hand up her side. “I’m about to ask you to walk into a very uncomfortable situation where you’re going to be asked to do something you’re not going to like.”
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Tear Down the Kingdom - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“What do you mean he’s disappeared?” A feral snarl tore itself from her throat.
“Hood…” The voice on the line soothed, “Calm down. Slade’s the best. He knows what he’s doing.”
“He was investigating a meta trafficking ring.” Her voice all growl. “Don’t tell me to calm down!” She moved across the room and snagged an earpiece, quickly connecting it, before pulling a bag out of the closet. “Tell me everything.”
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It's Kinda Crazy (This Life) - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
“I have a contract.“
He saw her fingers tighten around her book; heard her jaw clench as she tried to control her automatic reaction. After a moment, she answered. “Oh? How long will you be gone?“
“About three weeks.”
"I s-see.“ She stuttered over the word, eyes glued to the pages of her book.
He paused before… “Come with me."
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Heartbeats Like Drumbeats (Hear Me Roar) - Ad Aglaophotis
Female Jason Todd/Slade Wilson - E
“Deathstroke. Fancy meeting you here.”
He smirked at the Robin - where had his helmet gone? - and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Quite the surprise, I’m sure.”
“Quite!” She grinned brightly, ignoring the twist in her stomach. “I’ll just… get out of your hair!” Moving to duck around him, he shifted to block her path.
“Going so soon?” He leaned in and his scent washed over her; a tantalizing mix of gunmetal, cedarwood and something uniquely alpha. Jay breathed in deeply and nearly purred.
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Vive La Reine
Female Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne - E
As his thoughts turned to Jay he moved toward her room, suddenly needing to check on her. He pushed the door open and leaned on the frame, looking in on her. Something in the air… Bruce took a deep breath and almost groaned. It smelled amazing.
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A Gaze Too Long
Female Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Female Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
“Baby, are you sure—”
She growled, “It’s this or starve!”
He sighed. “Did you decide on a street name, Jay?”
Shrugging on her hoodie she nodded. “Just call me Red.”
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For Eternity
Female Jason Todd/Talia al Ghul
She was so cold. It was so dark. Her body trembled. Were her eyes open? She couldn’t tell.
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Whumpmas in July: Day 9
@whumpmasinjuly
“Look at me.”
Read on AO3
My house, my rules, my ko-fi
Even through his paladin armor, the fire was far too hot. Shiro could swear he could feel the flames of the burning walls licking against his skin as he raced by them, and was certain he would be covered in blisters by the time he got back to the castle. His helmet – especially the crackling in his ear reminding him that the comm hadn’t been working since they’d entered Viuter’s atmosphere and would be no help to him now – was irritating him, making him feel trapped and claustrophobic and plastering his sweaty hair against his skull and preventing him from wiping his bangs out of his eyes. Still, it was protection, enough protection to keep him upright and moving, and even though smoke clouded his line of sight, the visor of his helmet kept it out of his eyes, and the oxygen actuator mostly kept him from breathing in the ash.
Which meant Keith’s armor was giving him that same protection. Which meant he was fine. Wherever he was.
Keith shouldn’t have been in the building in the first place. He’d been blocks away when the explosion had occurred, the paladins all having separated to confer with different members of the Viuteran council. It had made sense, getting more done in less time and everyone getting to stick to their specialties, and it had resulted in Keith being all the way in the infantry armory building at the time of the blast. Shiro, though, had been right near the explosion, in the next building over where he and Allura were meeting with a group of military strategists. As he’d been wearing armor and Allura hadn’t, it was only natural that Shiro was the one to take the initiative of running into the building and taking charge of evacuating as many Viuterans as he could.
Sure, it would have been better if the comms had been working and the paladins could all coordinate together, but that wasn’t really any more than a flickering and quickly dismissed thought in Shiro’s mind. He would focus on rescue now, find his teammates when he was done.
It took longer than he would have liked to reach the point when he could look for them, but it came eventually. Once the building was deeply engulfed in flames and there was too much risk of it collapsing in on itself for it to be safe for Shiro to go back in and keep up the rescue efforts. He handed off an unconscious Viuteran to an emergency worker and looked around to find himself in the midst of a dizzying scene. Sirens were wailing, soldiers and civilians alike were running amok, some trying to escape, some trying to help contain the spreading fire. And all of it cast in an eerie red, the thick smoke in the sky blocking out all light except for that of the fire.
Pidge was the paladin he spotted, her green armor sticking out boldly against all the red and gray, and her face flooded with relief when spotted him approaching. “Oh thank fuck!” she cried, rushing to meet him. “When Allura said you were in there I – I didn’t know if – God, kept hoping the comms would magically start working and I could make sure you were – ”
“Is Allura okay?” Shiro hated to interrupt, but now that he’d found one of his teammates, he was more than eager to find the rest, make sure everyone was okay.
“Right, right, follow me,” Pidge said, and she hurried to lead the way, winding through the chaos. “Allura’s this way, they’ve got first aid stuff going so that was the first place I looked, to see who was hurt. Lance and Coran – they left ages ago. Before this bomb, apparently a different one went off on the other side of the city. Like, one minute difference. My guess is they were planned to go off at the same time, but they weren’t coordinated quite right. Anyway, they went to get Blue and they were heading that way, so I don’t know when they’re gonna be – ”
“Shiro! Shiro, you’re okay!” A voice cut across Pidge’s rapid speech as they approached what appeared to be a makeshift triage center in the square, and Shiro turned to see Hunk clambering in their direction as fast as the armful of medical supplies he was carrying would allow. Behind him, Allura looked up from where she had been bent over an injured Viuteran, her glowing hands pressed against his leg. Relief washed over her face, and she started in their direction too the moment she had finished.
Shiro nodded in acknowledgment to Hunk. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“You sure?” Hunk asked. “You’re not hurt at all? Your armor’s looking kinda beat up, you might be hurt and not even realize it because of adrenaline! Do you feel dizzy at all? Do you need water? Do you need to sit down?”
“Hunk, I’m fine, really,” Shiro reassured him, turning his attention to Allura as she joined them. “How’s everything holding up here?”
“As well as we can hope for,” Allura said. “Everyone’s been too busy trying to get people to safety to investigate, so I don’t know where the bombs were, who may have been behind it, what the intent was – I take Keith was able to reach you? Where is he now?”
Shiro frowned. “What?”
“I thought – surely by now he would’ve – ”
“Allura,” Shiro said, voice tight. “What do you mean? Where’s Keith?”
“He was here, but he – I told him where you’d gone, and he took off, didn’t even let me finish the sentence. I thought he was going to help you with the evacuation.”
Keith had gone after him. Shiro had gone into the heart of the fire, and Keith had followed him in, and he hadn’t even realized. It hadn’t even occurred to him until Allura mentioned his name that he hadn’t yet seen Keith anywhere, but now…
Shit.
“I’m going after him,” he said, turning on his heel.
“What?” Pidge said. “Hang on, you think he’s still looking for you in there?”
“I know he is.”
“Wait, Shiro,” Allura said, “It’s certainly not safe! Surely Keith would have had the sense to get out of there by this point, we ought to – ”
“No.” Shiro shook his head. “No, he’s – I gotta get him. I’ll meet you all here when I’ve found him.”
One of them called his name again, as he took off running, but he ignored it. All his focus was on moving forward, his feet pounding the ground as he raced faster than he could ever remember having moved in his life, back toward the flames.
In any other circumstances, Shiro would agree that, yes, Keith had the sense to get out. He could be rash and stubborn and even foolish at times, but Shiro at least liked to think that Keith had been getting better about knowing when it was better to retreat than to dive headlong into danger. His failed battle with Zarkon, at least, had knocked that lesson into his head.
But he knew Keith, and more importantly, he knew Keith’s past. As little as Keith liked to open up about his life, he had at least let Shiro in on a bit about his dad. And how he’d lost him. Shiro had seen the look in Keith’s face whenever his dad had come up, the emptiness and desolation when he’d explained how that fire had taken him.
And he had seen the desperation and determination in his little brother’s eyes whenever Keith made it clear that he couldn’t go through a loss like that again. Whenever he insisted that he’d never have to take on the role of team leader because Shiro wasn’t going anywhere. He’d heard about Keith’s expulsion from the Garrison, the explosive lengths he went to in order to get Shiro out to his shack.
When it came to family – when it came to Shiro – all logic and reason was out the window.
And now Keith might very well meet his end because of it.
Making his way through the burning building required him to shut out all of his natural instincts pointing him to safety, screaming at him to get out of there before he wound up seriously hurt, or worse. He had to turn on the shade of his visor to keep the brightness of the flames from blinding him, and even then it was hard to be certain where he was going. Halls were blocked by burning debris, pieces of the building falling around him and some coming dangerously close to taking him out with them. Shiro jetpacked through a singed hole in the ceiling when the hall behind him folded in on itself, blocking his route to the main entrance, and every step on the second floor was accompanied by creaks and crackles that had him bracing himself to fall right through at any second.
Still, he kept going. Pushing through the heat and the sparks and the roar of the flames, yelling Keith’s name over the noise and through the billowing smoke. None of that was important. All that mattered was finding Keith.
He had to find Keith. Had to find him. Had to find him. Had to –
A crack sounded above him, and around the corner and along the hall, flaming shards of ceiling toppled down, and that’s when he spotted it: the distinct blue light that accompanied a shield activating from a paladin’s armor.
Keith. Ducked under his shield, fire and rubble tumbling around him, the red and white of his suit gray with ash. Alive, and moving, and okay.
He was okay.
Shiro dived into the wreck, knocking falling debris aside with his sword hand and, voice breaking in sheer release, shouting out, “Keith!”
Keith’s head shot up at the sound of his name, and although for a brief moment he stumbled from the battering against his shield, there was no mistaking the way his exhausted eyes widened the moment he spotted Shiro across the hall, as if he were seeing a ghost, only for his face to light up in stunned relief.
He may have shouted something in reply that was drowned out by the fire raging around them, or he may have sprung up from his crouch without a word. Either way, Shiro got no warning before Keith was practically flying across the hall to tackle him in a hug.
Shiro stumbled back, startled. It wasn’t as though hugging was completely out of Keith’s character – once he knew and trusted the person giving them, he practically reveled in them – but he was never the one to initiate the embrace. A means of preemptively shielding himself from being turned away, perhaps; a fear that the gesture may be misinterpreted, may be mistaken as something romantic or even sexual; maybe simply a matter of making sure he never set off any discomfort related to touch that Keith was often prone to himself. Shiro had never known for certain which was the case, but it all made Keith a distinctly non-touchy person. Even when they had first been reunited after Shiro’s disastrous return from Kerberos, Keith hadn’t hugged him with this much fervor.
It all spoke to just how terrified Keith had been, how desperately he’d been searching for Shiro. The embrace was a grounding one. He was pressing himself so firmly against Shiro, gripping his brother so tightly. As though reassuring himself that Shiro was really there. Like if he dared to let go, Shiro would vanish back into the smoke and flame.
“Hey,” Shiro said, trying to keep his voice soothing despite needing to practically shout to ensure he could be heard, arm wrapping around Keith’s trembling back. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here.”
“I thought – ” Keith choked out through his helmet’s speaker. “Allura said – she said you – you’d gone into – into – ”
“I know. I know.”
“You went into the fire. Shiro, you went into the fire, I thought you – I was going to lose you, I had to find you, I couldn’t – I couldn’t just let – ”
“It’s all right, Keith, I promise. I’m okay.”
“You could’ve died! You almost died, you almost burned up and never said goodbye, I thought you were dead, I – ”
“Hey. Keith. Look at me.” Keith kept his face buried in Shiro’s chest, so he pulled back to hold him by the shoulders. “Look at me, okay? I’m right here, see? I’m not dying on you yet. Swear it.”
“Y-yeah. I see you.” His voice shook, and this close up, Shiro could see the redness of his face, the way his eyes seemed to be struggling to stay focused. As hot-blooded as Keith ran, even he was susceptible to fire like this. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m – I was just…”
“Scared?” Shiro finished for him, and Keith nodded weakly. “That’s okay. I get it. And hey, you found me. You found me, I’m here, and we’re okay. And now – ” A crackling sounded from above, and Shiro yanked Keith aside without a second thought, throwing up a shield as a beam collapsed right where the latter had been standing, showering the two of them in sparks. “Now we gotta get outta here, okay? We gotta run.”
“Yeah.” Keith took a trembling breath and straightened as Shiro let his shield fizzle away. “Got it, let’s go. Just – ” Shiro looked down to see Keith’s gloved hand wrapping around the gauntlet of Shiro’s armor. “No splitting up. Please.”
Shiro smiled. “Deal. We won’t let each other out of our sights. Come on.”
He activated his sword hand, and beside him, Keith did the same with his shield. Ready to race back through the flames, side by side.
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Best in the Worst Way, Part 11
I have way too much experience with this kind of trauma. One thing I know, the experience isn’t always linear. How you feel jumps from one moment to the next. Maybe this is my way of coping, but for some reason I need to get this all down. Lots of swearing —K
The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?
There’s something totally surreal about trauma.
There’s nothing like the feeling of getting a late night call to get to the hospital and fast. It is pure stomach dropping terror.
Realists would know what it means, rushing to the hospital to see their loved ones, potentially for the last time.
Driving to the compound, gnawing on your thumb, you start to wonder how many traumas there are. How many people a year get a call to hurry to the hospital to see their loved ones. Maybe for the last time.
Out of the those cases, how many people are too late? How many show up and their loved ones still die?
Fuck, how bad was it. You ran your hand through your hair as you sat at a stop light, tears streaming down your face.
How much of a liar was Tony? Would he lie and tell you that they were alive if they weren’t, just so you wouldn’t kill yourself driving over?
You wouldn’t have to rush if this light would fucking turn green.
There was no one around, it was nearly midnight...why wait?
You tapped your fingers on the wheel, maybe you weren’t on the sensor and the light would never turn green and Bucky and Steve would die waiting for you...what’s the harm?
Your foot shifted to the gas, cautiously accelerating.
A horn blares and you slam on the gas, barely avoiding an oncoming car.
You think you might have screamed, either way, you wer suddenly pulling your off the road and scrambling out.
You reached for your keys, your hand missing twice.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you finally got hold of your keys and practically fell out of your car. From your knees, you reached for the door handle and pulled yourself up.
Your head swam as you leaned against the car and made your way to the passenger side. As soon as you were off the road, you tossed your keys into the field of grass in front of you.
And immediately regretted it.
“Oh, shit,” you leaned against the hood and stared out at the dark field.
You remembered a rule of dealing with trauma. Take a breath and get control of yourself.
Fact, you shouldn’t have been driving. You cradled your belly, where your children were kicking furiously. You weren’t thinking straight. You were thinking about your boys, not the babies inside of you.
And there was no way you were finding your keys tonight.
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialed Natasha, she answered on the first ring, “Where are you?! Is everything okay, you should be here by now!”
You closed your eyes, trying to take deep, calming breaths, “Can you please come get me? I’m fifteen minutes out from the compound, sitting on the side of the road. I just about crashed my car.”
Twenty minutes later, Natasha’s car pulled up behind yours and both Natasha and Clint hoped out. At this point, you were spiraling, your breath coming in short pants.
“Fucking Tony!” Natasha slammed her door. “I said, don’t let her drive. You can’t let her drive after telling her something like that!”
“Yelling at Tony isn’t going to solve anything!” Clint snapped at her. He came to stand in front of you, both hands grasping your shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine. Now, where are your keys?”
You pursed your lips, looking over his shoulder at the field. “I kinda...tossed them...”
Clint raised an eyebrow, his head jerking to look out at the long glass. “Oh. Okay. We’re all just gonna get in Natasha’s car. Then I’m gonna go get a metal detector and find your keys!”
You nodded, pushing off your car and stumbled, your head swimming.
“Alright, kiddo,” Clint wrapped an arm around your waste. “Let’s get you in the car.”
“What if they’re dead and Tony’s a liar?” You asked, stumbling as Clint guided you towards Natasha.
“Oh, no,” Natasha open the car door. “We talked to the field team. They’re stable, just a bit of a mess.”
You slid into the passenger seat, stroking your belly, trying to soothe yourself. Clint got into the backseat and Natasha got into the drivers seat.
“I keep thinking about all those silly medical shoes I watched in university, where there’s a trauma and they go from fine to dying in a minute and then the family doesn’t get there on time,” you murmur.
You weren’t sure either of them heard you until Natasha quietly answered, “I’ve seen that happen, in the field. It can happen, but right now, all signs point to them being stable and we will getting to the compound at the same time as they are.”
The light pollution started getting worse the closer you got the compound. For some reason, all you wanted to was run away.
“The babies kicked today for the first time,” you said numbly. “They’re gonna be here soon. I n-need to get a crib, and, um, a diaper bad. Other stuff too. I need to book, uh, birthing classes. Maternity clothes...”
Natasha exchanged a quick glance with Clint, “We can worry about all of that later. We’ll make a list!”
You frown and murmur, “I don’t know how to change a diaper.”
Clint squeezed your shoulder, “You’ll learn, it’s okay!”
You laugh dryly, “Buck was learning. Every spare minute. He was so excited to change diapers.”
“Okay, she’s gonna need something to calm her down,” You hear Clint mumbled to Natasha. You ignore him, choosing to curl up towards the window, watching a helicopter fly towards the compound. Your boys were up there.
———
Panic was surging through your veins, but you shook your head as you strode towards the medical wing.
“How bad is it,” you shout at Tony, trying your best to keep a level head.
He looked up at you from his phone, his hair a mess. “I don’t know,” he called back. “I just know they’re stable and we have two ORs prepped just in case.”
Your eyes focused on the door behind Tony, the boys would come through those door at any second. You came to stop beside him, fiddling with the dainty necklace you always wore.
“I fucking told you she shouldn’t drive,” Natasha hissed at Tony behind you.
You were vaguely aware of Tony throwing his hands in the air. “I just said—”
You turned at spat, “Not fucking helping.”
They exchanged a look, both turning to sit in the waiting chairs and you started to pace.
“I’m gonna kill them,” You say calmly, stroking your belly, your eyes constantly checking the elevator.
Natasha leaned over and whispered to Tony, “She’s gonna need a sedative.”
The elevator dinged and a gurney rolled out. You almost puked.
“What. The. Fuck!” You glared at Tony, who was already scrambling to his feet.
“No one said it was this bad!” He said.
You swallowed, hard, looking down at Steve. He was sedated, his face was bruised and battered, and he had a massive branch through his abdomen.
“It didn’t hit anything serious,” the nurse behind the gurney said. “We’re gonna go straight to the OR and get this taken care of right now.”
You couldn’t helps yourself as you looked down at his face, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, Steve.”
“Ma’am,” she said.
“You’re gonna be okay,” you said to him.
“Ma’am,” she insisted. “We have to go now.”
You stepped back, making a point of raising your hands in the air defensively.
You watched them until they turned down the next hallway.
Natasha came up and put her hand on your shoulder, “Are you okay? Do you need to cry?”
You looked up at the ceiling, counting the lights as you let out a long breath, “Not yet.” Not until you saw Bucky. Pregnant or not, hormonal or not, he was not going to see you cry.
The elevator dinged again and chaos erupted.
It happened so fast, Natasha grabbed you and pulled you away from the door. Tony was yelling. So was Bucky.
He was thrashing wildly, despite the restraints.
“Head trauma,” the nurse wheeling the gurney already had a bruise forming on his cheek.
“Buck!” You shouted. He roared in anger and you flattened yourself against the wall.
And he was gone, down the hall.
Natasha looked down at you as you slowly started sliding down the wall.
They weren’t okay. No matter what Tony had said, that wasn’t okay. Steve had a fucking tree through his stomach and Bucky, poor Bucky was stuck in his own head. His most feared prison. This wasn’t going to be like taking the home tomorrow and putting a bandaid over a scratch, this was far, far worse.
“What do you need?” She asked, kneeling in front of you.
“A change of clothes,” you said numbly.
She rubbed your thigh, “Okay, I’ll call Clint to stop by your place, okay?”
You nodded, “Can you ask him to grab my black bag on the stool by the breakfast bar? It has, it has my meds.”
“Of course.”
“And t-there’s this god awful, ugly b-brown blanket on the bed. It’s Bucky’s.” Your voice started to waiver, tears welling in your eyes. “It totally ruins the aesthetic of the room.”
She grasped your hand and you wiped your tears. “I’m sure it does.”
“And, there’s one blue pillow on the bed. The pillow case is blue. Steve sleeps with it every night.”
And the flood gates opened and you started to cry.
———
“The surgery went better than expected,” the surgeon told you.
You wiped a stray tear from your face. “It-it did?” You hiccuped.
“Absolutely it did,” she gave you a warm smile. “And with his DNA, he’s gonna be just fine and walking around in no time.”
You nodded, “Thank you.” Your voice broke and she gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not normally a m-mess. I’m just pregnant.”
She laughed, “It’s okay, I can tell. He’s gonna need some support, but remember to take care of yourself, okay?”
You nodded, “Can I see him?”
“Of course, this way,” she directed you to walk down the hallway.
Your heart almost stopped when you saw him. He looked massive in that bed. He didn’t really fit, it didn’t look right to see Captain America in a hospital bed. Monitors beeped steadily at his side, the only real proof to you he was alive.
You hugged his lumpy pillow to you left chest. It still smelled like him.
You stared at the monitor, counting the insistent beeping, making sure he was still breathing...
“Is that for him,” a nurse said, rubbing hand sanitizer on her hands as she came in. You were still standing in the door way, starring, twenty minutes later.
“Um, yeah,” you answered, shaking your head to get out of whatever spell the monitor had put you under. “Can you...”
She smiled at you warmly, “Of course, hon.” She gently took the pillow from you, breaking the spell.
You stumbled forward, sitting down in the chair beside his bed.
“You can hold his hand,” she said, readjusting his pillows.
“We haven’t been in a good place,” you admitted, “for months. He wanted me to get an abortion and then he didn’t and I just, I pushed him away. I don’t know if he’d want me here but I-I can’t not be here.”
The nurse paused, coming to sit down in the chair opposite to you. “He’s going to want you to be here when you wake up. No matter what happened, he’s going to want you by his side.”
You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. “I don’t know what to say to him. Because I’m still mad, honestly. I want to kick his ass.”
She laughed and so did you, wiping a tear from your face.
The nurse cleared her throat, “It isn’t my place, but you don’t have to forgive him. But you’re going to end up throwing everything away if you’re not here when he wakes up.”
You nodded your thanks, reaching over and taking Steve’s hand.
———
“Y/n?” Steve voice woke you from your sleep on the cot beside his bed, you scrambled for the light before reaching for his hand.
His deep blue eyes looked up at you with so much pain and confusion.
“What do you need?” You asked, cupping his face. “Are you in pain?”
He shook his head, trying hard to swallow. You reached for a cup of water, knowing his throat probably felt like sandpaper after intubation.
“Where’s Bucky?” He asked.
You looked up at his monitors to avoid his eye, “They won’t let me see him. The meds aren’t working, he’s in a fury. They said that they’re giving him medication to calm him down, sedating him, and they’re going to try to wake him up soon.”
Steve’s grip on your hand tightened. “You should be with him.”
You leaned down and kissed his forehead, “This fight between us is no where close to over but you are still a big part of my life and I love you. I need to be here for both my boys and he will need me soon.”
There were tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, for everything. Bucky and I had a fight about it and, I’m not ready for everyone to know about the three of us.”
You nodded, understanding his fear.
“But,” he continued, “I don’t want to be the uncle. I want to be the dad. So, I’m here and I want to be here, for both of you.”
A tear dripped down your face, you leaned forward and brought your lips to his.
“Mrs y/l/n,” a man cleared his throat at the door. You turned to see some poor intern wringing his hands at the sight of Captain America.
“Yes?” You asked.
He broke his stare with Steve and said, “I’ve been asked to inform you they’re waking up Mr Barnes and you said you wanted to be there.”
You exchanged a look with Steve. He squeezed your hand and you walked to your bag in the corner, pulling out Bucky’s blanket.
Steve asked quietly, “Will you see if Bucky can be transferred into the same room soon? That way she doesn’t need to go in between our rooms.”
You raised an eyebrow in surprise, but the intern nodded and scurried off.
You gave Steve’s hand one more squeeze, “I’ll be back soon.”
You walked down the hall until you found the room where they were administering some medication to wake Bucky up. Your mouth went dry, he was still restrained.
“Can we get some of these restraints off,” you asked coolly, striding into the room and sitting beside the bed, the blanket in your lap. “He’s not an animal.”
“Mr Barnes is prone to violence following sedation,” the doctor tells you. You grit your teeth at that but let it go. “This could take some time, someone will be just outside if he acts out.”
You didn’t bother to point out that they had him chained down and he couldn’t right now.
Instead, you played with a frayed edge of the blanket. Steve adoringly called it Bucky’s baby blanket. It obviously wasn’t, but it was the blanket he’d slept with since living in Bucharest, it was with him in Wakanda, and he slept with it every night since.
At this point, it was more patch ups than blanket though. When the boys had moved in, the only thing Bucky brought was this ugly blanket full of holes. Trying, in vain, to make it look better to preserve the feel of your room, you learned to patch it up. It was now an assortment of browns and fabrics, but it didn’t seem to change the spirit of the blanket.
“Hey,” Bucky said. You looked up to find him looking at you, a frown on his face. “Did I hurt anyone?” He asked.
“No,” you lie. “You were just a little, um, enraged. You had some head trauma.”
He nodded, “Can I get out of these things?” He moved the restraints for emphasis.
You nodded, calling out to the nurse outside the room. He came in, and after assessing Bucky, removed the restraints.
“How’s Steve?” Bucky asked.
“He’s okay,” you answer. “He had tree go through his stomach but he’ll be fine.”
Bucky nodded, not bothering to sit up. But he ran his hand through his hair. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes focusing on the blanket.
“Is that my blanket?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
You nodded, “I thought you might want something to give you some comfort. Do you want it?”
His eyes crinkled from a small smile. “Yes, thank you.”
You stood, unfolding the blanket and spreading it over him. You looked up at him to see if he was satisfied, but Bucky was staring at your belly.
“Buck?” You asked.
“You’ve gotten...bigger,” he murmured.
You sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking a hand down your belly. “Yeah, and they’ve been kicking up a storm, would you believe it?”
He frowned, “I didn’t realize you were sleeping with anyone.”
Your blood ran cold.
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@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark
#steve x pregnant!reader#bucky x steve x reader#steve x reader#bucky x pregnant!reader#buck x reader#stucky x pregnant!reader#stucky x reader#stucky
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