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sass-squat · 1 year

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I love your wing au so much!!! I like to imagine Wind, Four and the other smaller members of the chain like to huddle under the wings of the bigger boys for warmth and comfort.

Do you have any other headcanons of the boys in your wing au to share?

AHHHH!!! Thank you!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far!!! But oh my god yes!!! They for sure cuddle and huddle under the bigger boys wings all the time! Some more willingly than others tho lol 😂

But of course! I ALWAYS have more headcanons to share I'm so glad that you asked!

Linked Universe Winged Au Headcanons:

Time - I briefly went over this in the Preening post I made a little while back, but Time is oftentimes kind of the "safety net" for the other boys. Whether it's helping them hide from the wrath of the other members of the group or simply staying awake through the night to make sure they rest, Time is always there to support and catch his boys whenever and however they need him. However, he very rarely is the one to initiate physical contact and prefers to simply wait for the others to come to him. This is because he can have a tendency to be a bit overbearing and overprotective, and after the incident with Wind, he's had to learn to step back a little and trust that his boys will come to him when they need him. Because of this, he only initiates contact when he deems it absolutely necessary. He's also got the biggest wings in the group by far which makes him perfect for cuddles and an excellent shield from the rest of the world for those hidden beneath them.

I also headcanon that he secretly really hates the rain. He may have the Song of Storms at his beck and call, but it turns out that giant, soggy wings combined with heavy armor isn't very pleasant to try to travel, fly, or fight with. However, despite his own general dislike of the rain, he does not hesitate to sacrifice himself and his wings to be an umbrella of sorts for others in the group, especially the younger ones.

He's also VERY good at climbing trees. The guy grew up in a magic forest with a giant tree for a dad of COURSE he's good at climbing trees. The first time he beat Wild in a race left the rest of the group in complete and utter awe. He may be the oldest of the Links, but he's still got plenty of tricks up his sleeves.

Twilight - Twilight is the ultimate big brother and no you cannot change my mind. However, this means that he does have the big brother tendency to give noogies whenever he hugs people and overall just abuses his larger size to flop all over the others. Basically imagine that scene with Nani in Lilo & Stitch where she falls on top of Lilo claiming that gravity was increasing on her. That scene combined with the energy from large dogs who are convinced that they are actually lap dogs. That's Twilight. He's got a lot of love to give and often makes great efforts to ensure that everyone gets it regardless of their protests or if they actually want it at the moment. However, even though he does tend to show his affection in sometimes sillier ways, he can be very serious and will not hesitate to either push the others out of harms way or literally pull them closer under his wings when needed. In other words, while he's a bit of an overgrown puppy at times, he's also got a powerful bite to match his bark.

As for random headcanons, I headcanon that whenever Twilight gets wet he has a subconscious tendency to shake out his hair and/or wings like a dog. Gone for a swim? Shake. Coming inside to get out of the rain? Shake. Someone threw a bucket of water at him? Shake. While overall a harmless quirk, it has resulted in a lot of laughing (Wild) and cursing (Legend) from the others. He always tries to claim that he does it because he's just trying to get an early start on preening and drying off (no one believes him).

Sky - Sky is an absolute MASTER when it comes to cuddling. No one can resist his charm and those that try often find themselves gently persuaded under his wings regardless. He's got very large, fluffy wings that make cuddling ideal and has a tendency to "scoop" the others under his wings. He also has a habit of treating everyone who comes to him as his, "baby birds" regardless of their age or size. While it is very cute to see younger members like Wind or Hyrule tucked under his wings, it does make for a very funny sight when he does it to Time or Warriors. On top of that, Sky is also well known for his "magic wings" that can make anyone fall asleep when huddled beneath them.

A silly little headcanon I have about Sky is that he oftentimes "fluffs up" whenever he wakes up or falls asleep. It usually makes his hair, wings, and overall appearance appear very disheveled and the others like to tease him for it, especially since he's one of the main Links who insists on preening the others.

He also really likes fish. No other explanation for it other than he never had the chance to try it before leaving Skyloft and is equally fascinated and horrified by all the different varieties.

Warriors - I headcanon that he's not actually a huge cuddler the majority of the time! However, he does secretly love it whenever Time silently pulls him under his wings. This is because I believe Warriors generally has a hard time asking for help due to his history as a military leader where any sign of weakness can risk causing doubt or disloyalty within troops. On top of that, he also has the, "I'm the hero" complex which means that he generally prefers to help and comfort others rather than ask for help or comfort in return. Because of this, he loves it when the others (especially Wind) come to him and tuck themselves into his side because he gets to feel needed while still secretly finding and receiving comfort in return. The rest of the group know this, so they often purposefully position themselves near him to subtly help him whenever they can tell he's especially stressed or upset.

I headcanon that Warriors is actually an excellent musician, especially when it comes to the violin. Everyone always talks about how Legend is an excellent musician, but I feel like no one considers the possibility of other members of the group also having musical talents. Also he's a momma's boy. You take one look at that man and tell me you DON'T think he was a momma's boy. In this essay I will-

Legend - Legend is a prickly little shit when it comes to cuddling. He generally pretends that he doesn't like it when in reality his inner child is SCREAMING for someone to look after him for a change. However, instead of confronting those emotions like a mature individual he usually chooses to project them onto the younger members of the group instead. He's been nicknamed the "broody hen" of the group for this behavior as it often results in him being especially prickly and almost possessive of the others, especially Hyrule and Wind. However, when he IS forcibly pulled under wing he has a tendency to essentially "burrow" like a rabbit into the other persons side. He does in fact, hate that he does this as it reminds him of his "cowardly bunny heart" but the others all secretly find it adorable.

Legend's handwriting is HORRIBLE. He may be able to SPEAK several languages, but writing them is a whole other story. I also headcanon that this is due in part to him developing some sort of hand tremor that started when he and his ship got blasted with lightning in Links Awakening. He's trained himself to not let it affect his fighting skills, but writing is ROUGH.

Hyrule - Hyrule absolutely soaks up physical affection like a sponge. He's basically been alone his entire life and has had countless monsters chasing him for his blood for the majority of his life let him have his rest and hugs. Because of this, he absolutely adores cuddling and being cuddled in return! However, even though he loves it when others comfort and preen him, he finds it a bit frustrating that the others don't often come to him for comfort in return. He knows that they (usually) won't hesitate to come to him whenever they need his magic for physical healing, but it does hurt his feelings a bit that they don't often come to him for emotional healing. He's a bit like Wind in that regard where he wishes that they would trust him more.

As for silly headcanons, I'm a firm believer that Hyrule would eat sidewalk chalk if given the opportunity. I can't exactly explain why, but I feel like he would because he believes that sidewalk chalk and Smarties taste the same.

Wild - Wild is a bit of a complicated case in the way that he will gratefully accept any and all hugs and cuddles, but rarely asks for them. Listen, the guy may be able to speak after losing all his memories but some more personal things like asking for help are still a work in progress. Because of this, he loves it when other people are able to read him and determine his needs simply from what they see. However, because he loves this so much he will sometimes purposefully act out or behave in such a way that he knows will get the others to fuss over him rather than simply ask for cuddles. This is usually expressed in his preening habits or his general rough housing and teasing with the other members of the group.

I headcanon that he occasionally dreams of his past life before the Calamity. He very rarely actually remembers what it is his brain was trying to show him, so it often leaves him more upset than before he went to sleep because he feels like a failure for, "forgetting them twice."

On a less angstier note, I also headcanon that he would be stupidly good at Legos. Like, you know those kids that would build everything EXCEPT what they were "supposed" to build with the sets they received? That's exactly how Wild would be.

Four - Four is NOT a big fan of physical affection despite the others many attempts. He's a very independent person and often feels overwhelmed or claustrophobic when the others try to pull him in too close. The rest of the group have found that the best way to show physical affection towards him is through pats on the back/shoulders and hair ruffles rather than the usual flurry of feathers and hands. However, Four does love cuddling when he's split into well...Four individuals. He's much more comfortable cuddling with his other counterparts (and shadow) so it's a big adjustment getting used to the rest of the group all also trying to get close. He is getting better though! Right now his favorites are Time and Warriors because they keep to themselves and don't ask any hard questions.

I headcanon that Four is just perpetually cold. This guy does NOT handle the cold well and always has frozen toes and hands. The others complain about this often because he likes to touch them with his frozen limbs. Time is the most frequent victim of this.

Wind - This guy LOVES any and all kinds of physical affection EXCEPT for preening. He finds a lot of comfort in others tucking him under their wings and looking out for him, but hates it when others underestimate or try to coddle him because of it. He also finds a lot of joy in being a source of comfort for the others because he loves feeling needed and getting opportunities to be a "big" brother makes him feel like a real hero. As a warning though, he does have a tendency to tackle his victims he wants to cuddle with and even occasionally succeeds in full on knocking them over. He also kicks in his sleep. Sky discovered this the hard way.

As for other headcanons, I saw someone who reblogged one of my polls said that he puffs his feathers up a lot to appear bigger or more intimidating because he's seen it work with Time and Twilight. So yes, he does do this it's canon now but it's not very effective.

I also headcanon that Wind tends to flap his wings repeatedly whenever he gets really excited! It is very cute but there have also been many causalities as a result of this.

Bonus:

Ravio - He LOVES physical affection and has quite literally broken down Legend's house and emotional walls. He also frequently mimics sounds and voices and yes he does use this to bother Legend. Legend no longer trusts the sound of knocking because he assumes it's just Ravio messing with him. The tax collectors trying to contact him were not amused.

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xbadnews · 2 months

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[ hold on ] sender pulls receiver into their arms || @horiznwlker from keyleth.

Percy was doing his best to practice forgiveness. forgiveness in others, forgiveness in self… but some days were harder than others. days like today, he couldn't shake the ghost of the hate he had tried so desperately to shed. he had defined his purpose by that hate for so long, long enough that it was woven in between the vertebrae of his too-stiff spine. it liked to sneak up on him, reaching into his brain & making things feel entirely too real. it was overwhelming.

he had been cleaning one of his guns. retort. it was a well-used weapon, one that he had made many modifications to. reclaiming it in his image didn't cancel out the darkness it inherited from its source. it made his mind wander to ripley, to what it had felt like to be dead. ( burning, bloody, raw. ) his last act could have been forgiving her & he wants to dream of a version of himself where that was his final say on the matter. he had reinvented himself separate from what she had stolen from him, what she had remolded him into. but there were pieces of her that would always be in his life, many of which were in this gun.

he doesn't realize his mind is racing until it's already bouncing back & forth between every terrible thing he's made in her image. every terrible thing she put in the world in his. this gun & the ones he created before changed the world for the worse. he could forgive the trembling, terrified boy who made them. he struggled to forgive the hands that still used this one.

his heart beats too quickly & he can't catch his breath. he leans on his desk for support, trying to steady his world as it spins around him. he tries to tread the water of his thoughts but he can't keep himself from drowning. he's not sure when he started crying & yet his face was wet. damn him.

he nearly doesn't hear the door open, half-convinced he imagined it as another way to torment himself. it would almost be funny for someone to see him this way, to see him as he was. scared & small & haunted by hate.

he finally forces a full breath through his lungs when he sees who it was. keyleth. his keyleth. his best friend, his sister. he can't quite find words, they're stuck in his throat & he thinks she knows that. perhaps this is why she draws him close into a hug, smoothing his messy hair against his head. percy melts, honestly. he's steadied by her scent. her presence tethers him to this world, to his body & his new reality. they were heroes now, despite it all. so he wraps his arms around her in a too-tight hug, holding on like his life depends on it.

" you couldn't have come at a better time, " he half-jokes, his voice smaller than he intended. he might have been ashamed if it were anyone else, but he knows better with her. he melts against her, laying his head on her shoulder, " sincerely. "

#comment cards ( answered. )#horiznwlker #horiznwlker: keyleth #cries into my hands abt them

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casspurrjoybell-22 · 9 months

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Master - Chapter 23a

*Warning: Adult Content*

"Please," the woman begs, her arms tightly bound around her child.

"P-Please don't do this."

I brush my wrist across my chin, collecting the blood dripping from my chin on my skin while I look around the clearing around us.

The second was ripping through all he could find that moved, once it had a heart he ensured it wouldn't beat again.

The third didn't seem to enjoy her kills quite as much and the fourth, only two days present, seemed to stick a bit before she delivered her kills but she got them done.

Tears still ran down her stoic face, that would stop by the seventeenth day.

You couldn't see most of the bodies, the fields covered the massacre.

Though the tall, once green grass was now a sea of red that sept into the ground, bleeding into the soil the same way these wolves bled now.

The terrified screams and mournful cries rode the wind, filling my ears with the sound of the sorrow I'd caused.

No. I didn't cause this. There was laughter too.

Vile, immoral laughter that made my skin crawl and my brand pulse in response to the ones who'd put it there, the ones who owned me.

They were enjoying this, watching their creations carry out all they ever imagined, watching us tear down their stunned enemies.

I saw it in each of their eyes before I took their lives from their bodies, that fearful look as they stared into my bloodshot eyes, not knowing what it was that killed them.

Lowering myself to this werewolf's level, I find the same look in her eyes.

I didn't know my eyes were red until the made more and I saw the blood irises, no one but us had eyes like these.

They, like our brands, showed others we were something different.

"Y-You don't h-have to do this," she pleads as she curls her sobbing child closer to her chest.

I do.

I don't want to but I do.

I try to tell her but the words don't come out, they never did, unless it was to one of them

.Not wanting to elongate the inevitable, I make her death quick and the child's even quicker.

If they saw the child, they'd take it and that would surely be worse than death.

I couldn't imagine anything was worse than this.

******

I open my eyes to find Kalem's smaller frame squeezed against me, my arms caging him tightly as raged breaths brushed my chest in a rush.

I realise, in a treacherous moment, that I was holding him the same way that woman held her pup.

Startled by the very thought, I unwind myself from Kalem and try to put some distance between us as my mind struggles to place me back in the present, after my unwanted mental visit to my past.

Kalem, fully awake and perfect, wore eyes strained by his worry, worry he harboured for me.

Before I can let that warmth calm me, he sits up to face me as I run a shaky hand through my hair.

It was wet with sweat like the rest of my skin that was slick with the evidence of my eternal ghosts.

Closing my eyes, I try to settle my skittish thoughts that threatened to make my still heart race in an effort to escape the things and people I'd already buried centuries ago.

Small, soft fingers slide over my shaking ones, taking them in a careful hold that makes me shudder.

I open my eyes to look at the source, Kalem offers me a gentle smile that said so much, none of which was filled with judgement of any kind.

As I stare at him silently, captivated by those kind, hazel eyes, his other hand raises to palm my cheek and when I flinch slightly, he hovers for a moment before continuing his gentle caress.

It takes me a moment but my mind wields to his soft caresses, recognising it as Kalem and not the ones who'd created me only to enslave me.

As I calm, Kalem brings himself closer and closer until he finally climbs into my lap and brings me to rest against his chest.

Sinking into his arms, I wrap my arms around his small body and breathe him in deeply.

Those times, those dark times, were centuries ago, it was over now I'd made sure of that.

‘I broke my chains.’

"Did you have a bad dream Master?" Kalem asks softly, his familiar voice sending a wave of comfort over me.

"Yes," I answer and he holds me a little tighter.

"I'm sorry," he says sounding genuinely pained by the thought.

"I hate bad dreams."

"Me too," I reply with a weak chuckle as I rest my head to the crook of his neck, he smelt like home, he was home.

"They're the worst aren't they?"

"The worst," Kalem agrees quickly bringing a smile to my lips.

"But having you here, with me, after them, makes it a little easier to deal with after," I admit as I pull back to look at my boy.

Kalem blushes faintly at my words but smiles brightly at the words that stroked that part of him that wanted to be needed by his Master.

I lean in and press a kiss to his lips, closing my eyes to savour that sweet taste of honey that always rested on those perfect lips.

"You make everything better love," I groan once we part and Kalem giggles against me.

"Let's go back to sleep."

"Are you sure Master?" Kalem asks with a small frown.

"If you're not ready to see those bad dreams again, we can read our book for this month o-or start my cleaning for the day a little earlier and you can help me."

The offer makes me cringe with dread, my entire soul-shaking at the revolting thought of getting out of bed to go clean at this ungodly hour in the morning.

"I'm sure," I reply with a tight smile as I lay back down with Kalem curled against my chest.

"Okay Master," Kalem agrees with a short yawn.

"Maybe in the morning."

"Maybe," I reply sarcastically, pressing a kiss to his head while rebuking the very thought.

Kalem quickly falls back to sleep, soft snores escaping him as he slept against me while I stared blankly at the ceiling.

It'd been quite some time since I'd had a nightmare, I'd never fallen that deep into my slumber for my mind to concoct one, much less one that wasn't a figment of my imagination.

I'd almost forgotten the sting they left behind.

There was no way I was letting my eyelids shut now with images of my earliest years on this planet so fresh in my mind, so close I felt as if I'd be pulled back to relive them at any moment.

I could almost feel it.

That number that been dug into my skull to mark what I was created to be, I felt it's familiar burn that I'd lived with for centuries.

Number 1.

We didn't have names, weapons or rather slaves, didn't need names.

Familiar hatred pools in my veins as I recall all they'd made me do, all the lives I'd torn down while they'd cackled from a distance and I thought, not for the first time, of how I should've better savoured their deaths.

I'd rushed it, fuelled by decades of pain and torment, I'd ended their lives much faster than they deserved.

They should've suffered twice as much as I did, as we did and then three times over.

The forgotten memory of Diablos and the others makes my body tense with discomfort, he'd suffered as well as many of us did.

It made some shrivel of pity surface, one that I quickly distinguished when Kalem drew himself a little closer to me.

No amount of suffering made what he'd endorsed amongst our kind acceptable.

Solidifying myself with that thought, I let my mind run in the direction it had in the past few weeks.

I'd strengthened the castle, made it my stronghold.

I'd spent the time reacquainting myself with all the clans that still operated though barely hanging on and with the details of the treacherous history of our kind I'd not paid much attention to.

‘It was now time to act.’

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

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For You

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You and Minho are a little more than just an heiress and her bodyguard, but you know your parents would never approve of a relationship like this unless...

Warning: anxiety, injury

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x bodyguard!Minho

He is buttoning up his shirt after a warm shower when his phone buzzes. He smirks at your caller ID on the screen before picking it up. “What, miss me alr—”

“Hi. Sorry to bother you.”

Minho drops his smile and grips his phone tighter at the tone of your voice. Panic bubbles in his chest. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s not like that. I’m just… out right now, and it got dark a little quicker than I thought. I know you’re off the clock on Sundays, but—”

“It’s okay. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?”

“I’m near the 7-11 near your house. The one with the blue umbrellas in front.”

“Okay. Go inside for now. I’m coming.”

“Alright. Thank you, Minho. And sorry.”

“Don’t be; it’s my job. Call again if something happens before I get there.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”

Minho doesn’t even bother drying his hair and dashes out the door. He runs and runs, unease crawling up his skin, but when he sees you through the window of the convenience store, his stomach completely drops. There you stand with your shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around yourself, and knees bowed in, a stark contrast to the proud heiress he is used to seeing.

The worker who is leaning over the counter seems to be saying something as Minho bursts in. “If you aren’t buyin’, pay for your loitering with cha number, sugar.”

Minho slaps a bill on the counter and takes a bag of chocolates. “There. She’s a customer,” he hisses. Turning to you who looks shocked by his sudden appearance, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod dumbly.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the door, using himself to shield you from the eyes of the worker.

He thought you’d relax a little after getting away from the creep, but your posture remains closed off. He wants to ask why but does not know if you’re ready for that yet. Instead, you break the silence first.

“Thank you for coming, and sorry for ruining your Sunday.”

“Y/N, you know I’m always ready to be by your side.”

He looks for clues. You have on a deep blue dress, minimal jewelry, and light makeup. In other words, effortlessly enchanting, but that’s not important; you went to something fancy but not overly formal. A first date? Minho’s heart starts racing at the thought. He needs to know. “What were you doing out here by yourself?”

You bite your lip. Instead of answering, you tug on the cuff of his shirt gingerly with the tips of your fingers. “I-is it alright if I don’t talk about it?”

His chest breaks at how fragile your voice is. He stops in his tracks and looks at you.

“I-is it not?” you squeak.

“Of course it is.”

“Then why are you—”

“You look like you need this.”

He steps up to you under the streetlight and wraps you into a hug, gently stroking your back.

“Minho!” you gasp. “What if someone sees?”

You’re an heiress. Your choices of men are Chan from JY Group, Changbin from Seo Enterprise, or even Jisung from Han Motors. Lee Minho the bodyguard is definitely not on that list even if your heart is taking flight from this small gesture of endearment.

“Why does that matter?” he hushes you.

“If Father finds out, you’d lose your job.”

“I’d rather that than not be able to be here for you when you need it,” he says plainly and holds you tighter when you try to push him away.

Gradually, he feels you give up and give in to his embrace. Finally, he feels you begin to shake as tears escape your eyes.

“It was so scary,” you whimper. “I was so scared.”

Your words are like hammers battering his chest,making it impossible to breathe. He holds you tighter and speaks quietly, letting the vibration of his voice calm you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

You arrive at the gates of your house, an empty bag of convenience store chocolates between your fingers.

“Minho?”

“Yes?”

“Father can’t know what happened. Are my eyes swollen?”

He turns you by the shoulder so he is directly looking into them. “Not at all. They’re—”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your father approaching, and cuts his sentence short. “Good evening, Mister L/N,” he greets.

“Ah, Minho. What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

“I found Miss Y/N around my neighborhood and thought it best to escort her home.”

“You found her around your neighborhood?”

“Yes, I was just taking an evening stroll.”

“Evening stroll?” he echoes yet again. The old man looks at the younger one’s wet, unbrushed hair.

Minho can’t do a thing but cough nervously, knowing how weak his lie is.

Thankfully, your father does not comment further. He looks between the two of you and smiles to himself. “Alright. Since you’re here, you should escort her all the way to the house.”

“Yes, sir,” Minho bows. When he straightens up again, he grins at you. “Shall we go?”

You nod with a smile of your own. “Thank you, Minho. Really.”

“Like I said, I’m always here for you.”

He cheekily takes your hand in his and hides it behind his back in case your father turns around.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he whispers.

“Hm?”

He swipes an eyelash that fell with your tears from your cheek. “They’re not swollen; they’re beautiful.”

Your father coughs loudly in front of you.

The following week, you accompany your parents to a showing of the latest models of Han Motors. Of course, this means Minho is to lurk around in the shadows and follow you all night. At least, that’s what he’s supposed to do instead of being dragged out to the main floor by you to discuss which refreshment tastes the best.

“You know, if you wanted to spend time with me, you could have just said so,” Minho teasingly whispers into your ear.

“Shush and try this.” You roll your eyes and stuff a truffle-topped cracker between his lips.

Minho chews for a moment before commenting, “Not great. Better than the cherry thing earlier, but the truffles your uncle gave you last time was better.”

You take one and mull over it yourself. “You’re right. This one’s too sweet.”

“Like someone I know,” he sighs off-handedly.

You snort. “I can’t tell if you’re talking about me or yourself.”

He raises a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m worthy of being called ‘sweet?’”

“Good gracious,” you roll your eyes.

The two of you have tried less and less to suppress your flirting. Thankfully, most of your comments are made in indecipherable whispers or behind closed doors, so most people haven’t noticed, but those who did definitely have a thing or two to say about it.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice breaks your conversation.

You walk quickly past displays of shiny luxury cars to where she is. “Yes, Mother?”

She looks past you at Minho. “This does not involve you.”

Without missing a beat, he bows. Before he leaves though, you flash him a hand signal. Stay nearby.

“You should meet the Hans’ son tonight,” your mother tells you after Minho is gone from her sight.

“Mother, I’ve already met him at my birthday party last year.”

“Yes, but this time, meet him as a man like you’re supposed to, you understand?”

“Mother, Jisung already has his eyes on—”

“Madam Han!” your mother calls before you can even finish your sentence. You close your eyes to roll them and let your shoulders slouch, knowing exactly what is going to happen.

The said woman walks over, her son in tow to help his mother introduce new cars. “Madam L/N! It is good to see you.”

First the sweet talk.

“Your face is smaller every time I see it. How do you do it?”

“Oh, you flatter me!”

Then an indirect indication of true intentions.

“It’s the truth! You simply must tell me your secrets. In the meantime, let’s have our children play amongst themselves.”

Madam Han quickly understands her implication. “Of course! They must be bored being around us old ladies. Jisung dear, take care of Miss Y/N, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mother,” he promises obediently.

You watch as the two women walk away in a fit of faux compliments. Despite leaving the two of you alone, you know they have hawk eyes on you to make sure you do as they intend.

“So,” you decide to play along, “we, uh, meet again, Jisung.”

“Yep.” He clasps his hands in front of him and looks around nervously. Not much of a conversationalist, you note.

“Tell me about this car.” You motion towards a blue SUV nearby.

“Ah, yes!” You can see the boy light up from having something he can actually talk about. “This is the Model YG. It is a family car, but it certainly does not leave out the power and class of a…”

You soon tune him out. You both know you have no interest in cars anyway, and he’s just glad to have something to fill the silence with. Your eyes begin to wander, and you catch sight of something darting around. You first pass it off as your imagination, but when you see it again, alarms go off in your head.

You grab the arm next to you. “Minho.”

Jisung looks at you inquisitively. “I’m Jisung.”

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I need to find my bodyguard. I think there’s something—”

Just then, a low whistle cuts through the air. You look up and see the giant chandelier above you beginning to tilt.

“Run!”

Unfortunately, you are right at the center of the whole structure. You bolt away right behind Jisung, but there is just no way your stupid heels can keep up with his powerful strides. There isn’t much time. You aren’t going to make it. You can hear the lower hanging parts of the light structure crashing and shattering when someone tackles you to the floor, shielding you with his own body.

“Minho!”

He lets out a hallowed gasp as a metal rod strikes him in the back. He struggles to regain his breath but keeps his eyes trained on you.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you repeat, knowing that’s what he wants to hear most.

It’s your turn to worry about him now as he continues struggling to breathe. You help him sit upright, trying to avoid touching the million shards of glass impaling his skin.

“Miss L/N!” You turn and see Jisung calling you from the perimeter of the mess. Thankfully, he does not look too scathed. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Get away from my daughter!”

Amidst the panic and army of security running about, everyone looks up at your mother fuming on the second floor. It is only then you realize how intimate your position with Minho is. You’re seated between his legs, turned towards him, and he has his arms around you, using your body to press on his spazzing diaphragm.

A new voice directs everyone’s attention. “Are you crazy?” It is your father this time, pulling his wife away from the railings. “He just saved her! What are you doing?”

“Jisung was supposed to save her!”

“Jisung saved himself! Can’t you see? Minho’s the one who’s willing to risk himself for our daughter. What more do you have against that?”

You blush under the eyes your parents’ conversation has put on you, but Minho does not back down. He keeps you covered as you shrink in embarrassment.

“Jisung just needs more time with her!” your mother continues. “He’ll learn to love her!”

“Like you ever learned to love me? How many years have we been married? How many years have we tried to learn to love? Do you really wish the same thing for our daughter?”

A wave of gasps ripple through the building. Security has caught the criminals who sabotaged the convention, but no one cares. You can feel your stock prices dropping. You and your family are going to be on the front cover of every gossip magazine tomorrow. You struggle to find something— anything— to distract the crowd from what was just said. You need something big— something even bigger than your father’s confession.

In the midst of your dilemma, it is Minho who speaks first. “Let’s date.”

Another gasp echoes across the crowd. At least that did the trick.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-scream at him.

“What?” he says not-so-quietly. “Your father’s giving me permission. We might as well make it official. I promise to protect you and cherish you for the rest of our lives. What do you say, Y/N?”

Jisung is the first to start chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” and is soon joined by the rest of the party-goers. Your mother nearly faints and your father beams proudly.

“Okay,” you finally agree.

“Then kiss me,” he prompts, and you do.

#lee know #lee minho #stray kids #minho fic #lee know fic #stray kids fic #lee know imagin #stray kids imagine #lee know fluff #minho fluff #stray kids fluff #bodyguard!minho #bodyguard!lee know #stray kids bodyguard #fem reader #anniversary special #20210817

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

Going Home

Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi / Tokoyami Fumikage x Fem!Reader - Pro Hero AU (in their 20s)

Tokoyami had it bad. He had it so bad he had to bribe dark shadow to keep his mouth shut about it when you would call him. Sure he’s older than he was in high school and has more control over his quirk partner- he could force him to keep his mouth shut, but it feels wrong to force him to do anything when he’s a friend

You met Tokoyami in high school, becoming instant friends and bonding over darkness and crime shows. You even went as scully and mulder one Halloween together. But then you moved to a different country before senior year and he hasn’t been able to physically see you since.

You kept in contact religiously. He was your best friend and you told him you’d die if he doesn’t remain that way. You talk every day whenever you have free time and FaceTime every Monday and Wednesday alternating evenings and mornings for each other whenever hero work allows.

You have a separate conversation going on Snapchat, Instagram, and texts that you both stay on top of. Your Snapchat streak said 1174 and you’d be damned if it ever broke before you got to see him again. And yes, somewhere along the lines, you fell for him, but you’d never tell him. You’d never ruin your friendship like that.

“Remember to pick her up at noon” Dark Shadow said into his mind and he rolled his eyes, like he would ever forget the date and time his best friend would be in his life again. The second his agency was confirmed he extended a contract toward you, a popular new hero who was looking for an agency. A six month contract with abilities to extend should it feel like a good fit.

“Seriously? Not just because I’m your friend? You honest to god think our quirks would work well if I’m your side kick? On the bracelet?” He nods into the phone camera and then looks down at the purple adjustable bracelet you had gotten for him on your last arcade adventure before you moved, a matching black one on your wrist.

“I swear on the bracelet” he said, heart skipping. Yes he knew your quirks would work well together that was true. But he also knew that he was dying to see to again and when you said you only needed a good enough opportunity to move back, he saw a perfect opportunity that fate had handed you both.

Your black bracelet was faded to grey over the years of never taking it off but your heart beat raced in your chest. “Okay” you say with a smile and warm cheeks “I’ll have my agent look over the contract and I’ll give it a serious thought career wise.” Your eyes sparkled and he hoped your agent liked the proposal. His heart racing as you smiled at him like that. God he loved your smile.

“I like it. It would be good for your hero image if you had hero work in other countries as well. Young hero going back home. We can make a good story out of it how you were home sick. It’s also good that it’s with your best friend.” You checked out after she said she liked it. You were going home. You were going home.

You called Tokoyami right away and he answered on almost the last ring. “I’m sorry I just needed to talk to you” you said and took a deep breath as he work up “no it’s fine. It’s always fine when it’s you” his voice was tired and thick and you could only imagine how it would be in person.

“I have some news” you said with a smile and he perked up, sitting up in bed and against his headboard as he looked out his window at the night sky “what is it?” He asks, trying not to feel too excited as the phone presses hard against his ear.

“Guess” you said with a teasing tone and he knew immediately

“Really?” He asks, not being able to hide the excitement in his tone as his empty fist shoots up in celebration

“She said she liked it. It’ll be good for my image” you said with a grin, holding the phone in the crook of your neck as you play with the bracelet you’ve never taken off.

“When?” He asks eagerly

“You should know when Fumi, you made the contract” you joke and he chuckles

“no I know when your first day will be but when are you coming here?” He needs to know how much longer. How much more time will be spent away from you

“A week”

he laughs once out of shock and joy “a week?” He asks and you laugh, joy lacing every part of your voice

“my agent got me a flight and an apartment. The building I asked for already had one open and it was easy peasy. It’ll be furnished for me so I’ll be there next Wednesday at noon. Then I’ll have three weeks there before I start work. With you”

He couldn’t believe it. It went so fast he feels like his heart is spasming. Eight years away from you and only one week to go. “I’ll pick you up text me your itinerary”

“Okay” you say with a laugh and then smirk as you say “you’re not gonna ask where I’m gonna be living?”

“Where?”

“#407” you say and it takes him a moment but he gets there

“You mean six doors down?” He asks and you laugh

“Yeah I hope you don’t mind. I just thought it would be fun” you feel nervous like he’s not gonna like it, your palms sweat

“That’s amazing I’m so happy” he says and you grin “really? You don’t mind I’m living in your building?”

“Why would I mind? The best person in my life is going to be my neighbor. I can’t wait”

You hear his alarm go off and gasp “I’m sorry Fumi I didn’t mean to ruin your sleep”

He laughs “you didn’t. Trust me. But I do have to go to work. To get things set for you to be here.”

“Okay. I’ll text you. Be safe today Fumi”

—

His hands feel sweaty as he stands at the gates. Jesus. Was this even a good idea? Fuck he was so nervous. Your plan had landed he was just waiting for the doors to open. When the fight attendants opened the door he felt dark shadow getting nervous as well.

But then he saw you, a hat on your head and sunglasses on to try and stay inconspicuous in American airports but since you were here now you took them off and ran your hand through your hair before scanning the room.

Fuck you were so beautiful his mouth was dry. You were so cute in pictures and face time but it had nothing on you in person. You were an angel. This was a bad idea he was too in love to do this.

Your eyes meet his and you smile wide, your hat and glasses in one hand and a water bottle in the other as you start making your way to each other. You started off walking and weaving around the slow walkers but once you had space you couldn’t stop increasing your speed before you were running for him, your water bottle clanging to the ground as you dropped everything and threw off your backpack to slam into his strong arms, laughing as tears fall into his neck as you bury your face into him.

“Hey Fumi” you whispered and held you tighter. You smelled amazing. Like fresh air and rosemary. He couldn’t get enough. He held you tight to his chest and realized you felt smaller in his arms but then he realized when you left he was 5’5 and tiny. He’s grown a lot since then and even though you have changed too, he’s still a much larger man than he was before.

He dwarfed you. You never thought it was even possible. He held you completely and you never wanted him to let go. “Fumikage” you say as you pull back, making sure he keeps his arms around your waist. You reach up and run your hand down his long feathers down the back of his head “you’re much larger in person holy crap. and your feathers are so beautiful!!! Fumi!!. I forgot the beautiful shades in the darkness of the black. How are you still single Fumi you must be dripping with fans” You joked but your heart hurt saying it. You wanted to hear him say he wasn’t dating. That he has feelings for you.

He looks down at you and feels pride swell in his heart as you praise him, controlling the urge to fluff out his feathers when you call them beautiful.

“No one wants to date a fan” he says shutting down your investigative prodding at his love life, but then says “You’re one to talk you’ve changed so much but I didn’t even know it was possible to be this gorgeous. Don’t think I didn’t read about America’s most eligible bachelorette.”

Your cheeks flush with heat and you hide your face in his neck “oh hush Fumi. Always flustering me. Like you haven’t FaceTimed me every week. And that article was a joke” he sighs softly and you can see emotions swirling in his eyes.

“It’s different in person” he says and you sigh as you gaze up at him with a smile “it certainly is”

Once dark shadow decided to ruin the moment you remembered you were still in the airport. Fumi carried your big suitcase like it wasn’t a hundred pounds and before you could object dark shadow had your backpack across his back. Dark Shadow just laughed when you stuck your tongue out at him. “we’ve really missed you” he said when he handed you your water, your glasses and hat already on his body

—

You fall back into an easy rhythm with Fumikage, teasing and playing while talking in his car back to the apartment. After laughing so hard and catching your breath, you look over at his profile and your heart skips. The sun is hitting his feathers, his black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck pulled at his biceps as his right hand rests against the shifter and his left hand was on the steering wheel. God you didn’t know if this was a good idea. You thought you were going back to your childhood home but being with Fumikage nothing has felt more like home than this.

“The boxes you sent over should be here in the next few days. If you need anything or don’t have something you can always come over, I have a spare key for emergencies” he’s going over a few things that it seems like he’s really thought about before you came. He was prepared and it warmed your heart. You smiled up at him as the elevator dinged for the fourth floor and he looked down at you eyes widening as he catches you staring. you smile and reach out, taking a gentle hold on his free hand near you and give it a soft squeeze. “Thank you Fumi. You think of everything. I’ve really missed that”

He doesn’t let go of your hand until he has to unlock his front door, you’d be staying the night with him and your agent was meeting you in the morning with the keys for your place.

his fingers tingle to grab for your hand again but he doesnt

“You can have my room, I’ll take the couch in my office. It’s a pull out.” You smile from your place standing on the landing just inside the door, watching as he disappears with your luggage down a hallway then comes back walking a little slower and playing with his hands like he does when he’s nervous.

The edge of the landing went down a couple steps and he stopped at the bottom edge “feel free make yourself at your home” he says with a nervous chuckle and you grin, running and jumping off the landing into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder.

“Oh Fumi eight years was too long” you whispered into him and he holds you up effortlessly, his beak brushing your shoulder and he curves into you, desperate to hold you after so long “way too long” he agreed.

———

The weeks seemed to fly by, you were settled into your apartment and you just got done with your first official week at the office.

“So, Tsukuyomi, Sir” you say with a smirk and lean against his open office door “how was my first day boss?”

He crosses his arms over his wide chest and gave you his best Boss look, making your heart flutter and causing your cheeks to heat up. you chuckled and tried not to show how flustered you were when you walked farther into his office. He stood from his desk and gave you a nod with a soft chuckle “you did well. I think you’re going to love it here. Let me take you to dinner tonight to celebrate”

——

He showed up at your door at seven and your breath catches in your throat when you see him. Black straight jeans with a black button up tucked in with a red tie and black boots. He looked divine. Like a god of the underdark. His hands were fixing his tie and you stepped forward, not missing the squeak of his own breath catching in his throat at the sight of you, and fixed his tie for him.

You had on a red dress and a black jean jacket that has rolled sleeves and pair of black booties that look like you could kick someone’s ass in them. His brain immediately short wired and all he can think is how well you look together. How right. How good. Fuck this was going to be harder than he thought to just be your friend but he didn’t want to you to think he was a sleaze or make you quit his agency.

Your hands fix his tie and then rest against his chest, when you see his flustered eyes and nervous body language you chuckle and lean up, kissing his beak gently, then wiping the lipstick with your thumb “you look really handsome Fumi” you say softly and he feels a whimper catch in his throat.

your eyes turn from him up to Dark Shadow who had on a matching tie “is it too much?” He asks and you laugh “you look good in it but I do think you pull off natural look best” he nods and salutes you “message received” before taking it off and tossing it into your apartment behind you.

When you look back to Fumi he’s glaring at Dark Shadow like he was a bad child and you chuckled before boldly taking his hand, hoping you read the signs right and that he did feel the same.

“Are you ready?” You ask and he nods, his fingers tighten around your hand as he relaxes, giving you a soft squeeze before placing your hand on his bicep and holding you close as he cleared his throat “I got a reservation at this new restaurant downtown” he says as you enter the elevator and you smile up at him “anywhere with you is perfect”

Dinner went by incredibly quick, you sat in a back booth, talking and laughing the whole night. It was a new restaurant that catered to people with any kinds of quirks and had surprisingly good tofu and fish. (I mean who’s gonna get the chicken on date with a bird?)

By the end of the meal he’s grabbed your hand over the table and is running his fingers against yours softly. “Thank you for tonight Fumi, I really feel like being here was the right choice. I would have came no matter what my agent said” his eyes widened a little

“Really?” He asks and you laugh with a grin “of course! You’re special to me and I just needed a good reason to come back home” your expression was so soft he felt those three words crawl up his tongue.

His eyes look serious for a moment as he looks at the way your hands look together “y/n I need to tell you something” he says and gets extra serious

“What is it?” You ask, trying to keep your voice neutral even tho you know your face screams ‘I’m worried now’

He meets your eye for a few long seconds before he shakes his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t ruin this close friendship when he wasnt positive his feelings would be returned. “Never mind. It’s not that important. What do you say about dessert?”

He was leaning on the table on his elbows, close enough to reach out and touch over the tiny table, and so you did. You reach up and ran your fingers lightly over the edges of his feathers with a soft smile. “Of course Fumi. But how about we go to the cookie place by the park you always talk about. I know you like it and it’s a perfect night for a walk.” He swallows hard and nods “that’s a perfect idea” he says as he signals for the waiter to pay.

You hold his hand all the way to the cookie place, talking easily and joking around, but you keep hoping for the perfect moment to confess. You had a feeling that’s what he was going to do at the restaurant, it changed your heart and convinced you to take the leap, almost positive he felt the same.

You sit on a bench in the park, one with perfect view of the city skyline, eating your cookies and dark shadow is teasing you about the time you kept stealing Tokoyami’s poptarts from the dorm kitchen. Your cheeks are hot and you’ve turned yourself towards Tokoyami, your left hand on your cheek and your face hidden in his shoulder as you laughed together, your right hand rested on his kid thigh. It felt so easy. So absolutely right.

You drop your hand from your cheek and look up at Tokoyami with a soft smile, heart racing at the emotion you find in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for stealing your poptarts” you say and his throat catches again at the way your eyes seem to shine with love for him he almost feels it’s too much but he wants to dive deeper, to drown in the love he finds.

He chuckles and cups your cheek “I never cared. I had the hugest crush on you then”

Your heart skips and your cheek heats even more under his touch “and now?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper

“Now I’m so in love I don’t know if it’s even quantifiable” he says with a hint of exasperation as he leans down and presses his forehead to yours.

Your eyes flutter closed as your heart thrums against your ribs, his confession echoing in your head as fireworks explode in your heart. You press a kiss on his beak and your heart skips when you hear a gasp catch in his throat

“I’m in love with you too, Fumi” you say and he pulls you into a hug, nuzzling his beak into your neck, wanting to get close to you to show you how much he loves you the best he can since he can’t properly kiss you.

He nips softly at your neck skin and you giggle so sweetly he feels light headed. You pull back and kiss his cheek before looking into his eyes. He cups your cheek again “that’s what I wanted to say back at the restaurant”

You chuckle and smile, taking his hand you press gentle kisses against his palm, trailing a few down to his wrist before saying with a smirk “I know”

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #bucky x sarah #Sarah Wilson

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flightlessangelwings · 3 years

Text

I Got You

Marcus Moreno x afab!reader (smut with no pronoun use, no use of y/n)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ONLY), pining, training leading to smut, pinned against a wall, unprotected sex, fingering, jerking off, a bit if switching dynamics, soft smut, a bit of cockwarning, love confessions, sweet Marcus Moreno

Request from anon for training leading to smut

Training new recruits was always Marcus Moreno’s least favorite part of the job. But, in the years since his wife passed away, he found that it was more and more routine for him. Most of the newer heroes were strong enough, but a lot of them were stubborn and didn’t listen to direction well. Even the lower level agents seemed to have a complex about them. So, when Marcus walked into headquarters, he was surprised at what met him on the other side of the door.

Your back was turned at first, so he didn’t get a good look at your face. Marcus took in a deep breath before he put on a smile and introduced himself. As you turned around, he felt like he was hit by a train and a silly grin replaced the half smile that he started with. You were stunning, with the kindest eyes and brightest smile Marcus had ever seen. There was an energy about you that drew Marcus in from the get-go, and he knew he was in trouble.

“Mr. Moreno?” you asked with furrowed brows, “Are you alright?”

Marcus shook his head to chase the racing thoughts out, “Yeah, sorry,” he shook your hand, “Call me Marcus, please.”

“Marcus,” you repeated his name and he felt his heart soar.

Needless to say, Marcus Moreno looked forward to training that day.

You were the finest of the new recruits, and you took direction better than anyone else. Not to mention, you were the best company in the whole building. Marcus found that he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. He sought you out whenever he had a break, and he always spent his lunch hour with you. In no time at all, he fell head over heels for you. And that surprised him; Marcus hadn’t expected to fall for someone since he lost his wife. Yet here you came into his life, unsuspected and unexpected.

As for you, you were just as enamoured with Marcus Moreno as he was with you. You kept your feelings hidden though. The truth was that he took your breath away the moment you two met. Those deep brown eyes behind the glasses, his laugh, his strong grip when he took your hand, your name in his voice. You were immediately smitten with him. But, to protect your heart, you kept your feelings buried.

Even Missy, Marcus’ daughter, quickly made her way into your heart. Once Marcus was sure that you were a good fit for the Heroics, you were able to meet her, and the two of you hit it off instantly. She quickly started to look up to you, and you felt like a mentor to her. And you couldn’t be sure, but you thought you caught her try to physically push Marcus toward you once or twice. You brushed it off as your imagination though and you didn’t think much of it.

Time flew by as both you and Marcus danced around your growing feelings for each other until the day you trained together alone in one of the smaller rooms. Sweat lined your brow as your sword clashed with Marcus’ own. With your powers of probability, you were able to predict his next move before he even made it. Still, there was a good reason Marcus Moreno was the leader of the Heroics and he kept you on your toes regardless.

You swung at him again, and you followed him around the space while your swords hit at various angles. He blocked parry after parry from you and you swore you heard a soft laugh from him as he backed you up against the wall. All the air left your lungs as you hit the wall with a grunt and you stilled your body as he held the blade of his sword against your neck.

Heavy breaths from both of you filled the room as Marcus kept his intense gaze on you. There was no denying the tension between you in that moment, as if the weeks of silently yearning for the other suddenly came to a head. You held your sword tight in the hand that you kept lowered at your side, not ready to give in just yet. You calculated your next move quickly in your head before you let out a heavy sigh.

The loud clang when your sword hit the ground broke the silence of the room, yet you and Marcus maintained eye contact. There was a fire in his eyes that you never saw before, and your heart pounded in your chest as he pressed his body up against yours. You weren’t sure if the heat in your body was from the intense training exercise or because of how close Marcus was.

“You win,” you were breathless as you vocally surrendered. He smirked as he dropped his own sword, but he stayed in your space. “Marcus…” your eyes fell down to his lips for a split second.

That was all the confirmation he needed to close the small gap between your bodies and crashed his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. You widened your eyes in surprise for a moment before you grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him in closer. You parted your lips to deepen the kiss, and you heard him moan into your mouth as his tongue slipped in.

Marcus wrapped his arms around your waist as he leaned in more to pin your body fully against the wall with his own. His strong, broad chest was a welcome weight against yours, and you could feel how hard his heart beat.

When he finally pulled away for air, you kept your eyes closed and your grip on his shirt. It wasn’t until he whispered your name that your eyes fluttered open. Again, you two maintained eye contact, and you could see the question in his eyes, “Are you sure about this?” Marcus asked.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, “I am if you are.”

With a low groan, Marcus moved his hands to your hips and lifted you off the floor. He used his body weight to pin you up against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he confessed before he took your lips with his own in another heated kiss.

Your legs remained securely around his waist as your arms moved to hold him around his shoulders. You tilted your head to the side slightly to let his tongue slip into your mouth once more. You had only tasted him once and you were already addicted, and you wanted more. Without any words needed, you could tell Marcus felt the same about you.

Marcus kissed his way across your jaw then down your neck and made note of every spot that made you mewl and squirm under him. He bucked his hips against yours, and you both let out a moan at how hard he was already. You clung to him as you rocked your hips against his in response, desperate for as much contact as you could get.

As he sucked at a particularly sensitive spot at the base of your neck, Marcus moved a hand to your chest to gently cup at your breast over your shirt. His hips stayed against yours to keep you up against the wall, and he was careful to make sure you didn’t fall. You bit your lip to keep your voice down, but the more he palmed at your body, the harder it became.

“I got you,” he groaned against your ear before he kissed you again. You could feel the need in his kiss and his hand slipped under your shirt to feel more of your bare skin. He moaned your name between kisses as his hand found your breast under your bra. He rolled your nipple between his fingers while his large hand covered your soft mound.

“Marcus…”

Something about your voice flipped a switch in his head and Marcus suddenly pulled away. Carefully, he set you down and slipped his hand in yours, “Follow me,” he spoke in a low voice as he led you out of the training room and down the hall to the dorms.

Not too far from the training area was a hallway of small rooms for when missions ran long or when those under the Heroic’s protection needed to stay overnight. Marcus opened the door to the closest room and pulled you inside. There wasn’t much to the space: just a bed, a desk, a TV, and a small bathroom.

You leaned back against the door as Marcus closed it and you grabbed onto his shirt again to bring him back against your body and your lips against his. In just the one minute he had broken away, you already missed his touch, and you were desperate to feel him against you again. Marcus let out a soft laugh as he happily complied with your request, and leaned into your kiss while he reached behind you to lock the door.

“Stop me if you need to,” his voice was sincere, and although he wanted nothing more than to feel all of you, he never wanted to take more than you were willing to give.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you met his eyes as your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths. You quieted the racing thoughts that came with your powers and just let yourself give in to him. It didn’t frighten you at all to completely surrender to your feelings for Marcus Moreno; you knew you were safe with him.

Marcus ran his hands down the sides of your body, as if he wanted to memorize every curve of you. When his hands reached your hips, he grabbed a fistful of your shirt and gently tugged it up. You broke away from the kiss just long enough for him to pull the fabric up over your head before you mimicked the movement with his own shirt. You stared dumbfounded for a moment as he stood just inches from you shirtless, and you licked your lips before you crashed your lips together again.

Next, Marcus wanted your bra off. He reached around behind you and fiddled with the clasp at your back, but he grumbled into your lips when he couldn’t quite get it off. With a giggle, you broke away and covered your hand over his to help him. He watched you with those big eyes that you adored as you easily undid the clasp with one little pinch. He gave you a soft pout, and you couldn’t help but laugh. But, his breath soon caught in his throat when you slipped your bra off and he saw you topless for the first time.

“Wow…” Marcus was at a loss for words as his eyes roamed all over your body. With a smirk, you took the opportunity and slid your pants and underwear down in one swift movement, and the look on his face when you were completely bare for him was priceless.

Marcus’ mouth hung open in awe, and for a moment he forgot how to function. It wasn’t until you tugged at his own pants that he remembered that he should actually move and do something. He snapped back to his senses and helped you undress him, and he felt embarrassed when you looked at him just as hungrily as he eyed you.

“Wow yourself,” you whispered before you wrapped your arms around him again and pulled him flush against your body.

His kiss was somehow even more desperate than before as he pushed you back against the door again. Marcus kept a hand on your waist as he let the other roam all over your body. He gave the breast that he didn’t fondle in the training room some attention, and he grinned against your lips when you arched your back into his touch.

Marcus said your name with a groan as his hand trained down the front of your body to your core. He broke away to meet your eyes once more before he continued, and it was only when he saw no hesitation in your face that he dipped his hand between your folds. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned your head back against the door as Marcus traced over your pussy with feather-light touches.

Your mouth dropped open when he rubbed small circles over your clit and you clawed at his shoulders. A strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still while he gently pushed a finger into you with the other hand. You gasped but immediately bucked your hips into his hand, already needy for more. After only a few gentle thrusts, Marcus added a second finger. You moaned even louder as his thick fingers stretched you out and you clawed at his bare shoulders.

“You ok?” he asked as he used his thumb to trace random patterns over your clit.

“Y-yes…” you breathed as you whimpered at his touch, “So good… Marcus…”

Encouraged by your moans, he sped his thrusts up as he rocked his hips against your body. He groaned as his cock rubbed against your bare skin. You opened your eyes and met his gaze for a moment before you trailed your hand down to where his length was against your body. While he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, you reached for his cock and stroked it in the same rhythm as his fingers.

The sound that came out of his throat almost made you cum then and there. Marcus rested his forehead against yours as he added a third finger, and he whimpered when you squeezed his cock in response. The two of you clung to each other as you worked each other, but soon you both became needy for more.

You let go of Marcus’ cock and pushed against his chest. He understood your request without a single word needed, and he carefully pulled his fingers out of you. The action made you whine but you immediately placed your lips on his and kissed his while you pushed his body back towards the bed. Your hands roamed across his chest as you guided him across the small room, and you made sure to give his nipples a pinch like he did yours before you pushed him down.

Marcus landed face up on the bed and he scooted himself back a bit while you climbed on top of him. The fire in your eyes matched his own as he was the one to reach out for you this time. You straddled his waist as you let him pull you down for another kiss; neither of you seemed to be able to kiss each other enough.

While your tongues tangled together, you rocked your hips against his, and you felt his cock twitch under you every time your pussy dragged along its length. Precum leaked from the tip, and you felt your own juices drip into his cock. You broke away for air and your eyes never left his as you lifted yourself up enough to hover over his erection.

Marcus whined as you grabbed his cock and lined it up with your entrance. You could feel how thick he was already when just the tip pushed in past your first ring of muscle, and you both let out low moans and groans as you slowly sunk down into him. Marcus grabbed onto your hips to help you keep yourself steady over him and he rubbed comforting circles on your skin while you slowly took him in completely.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help the curse that escaped your lips once you fully impailed yourself on his cock. You closed your eyes and took in a few deep breaths, and you smiled when you felt his hands roam across your body.

“Fuck yourself,” Marcus parroted with a smirk.

You opened your eyes and raised your eyebrows at him, “That doesn’t even make sense, Marcus,” you giggled.

He joined in your laughter, and was about to retort when you rocked your hips just slightly. All that came out of Marcus’ mouth were whimpers and groans as you started to ride him. He moaned your name as he watched you raise your hips so that only half of him was buried in you before you lowered back down and he completely disappeared inside you again.

“I got you,” you spoke in a low voice as you echoed his own earlier sentiment to you.

You started slow, but as you became slicker and slicker, you were able to pick up your pace. You rested your hands on his chest to give yourself leverage while you bounced on his cock and savored how amazing he felt inside you. He filled you so well, and it was almost an out of body experience for you to ride Marcus like this.

Marcus helped you fuck yourself on his cock and tightened his grip on your hips. He shifted his legs to plant his feet on the mattress so he could thrust his hips up into you and match your movements from below you. The action made you cry out in pleasure and your inner muscles clenched involuntarily around his cock.

Moans and groans from both you and Marcus filled the little room, and if the space wasn’t sound proof, anyone who walked by would definitely know what you were up to. But, in the moment, the thought didn’t cross either of your minds. All you cared about was how Marcus’ cock stretched your pussy so well. And all Marcus cared about was how perfect you felt around him. It was like you two were made for each other.

“You’re….amazing…” Marcus moaned praises for you as you rode him even harder, “So good… I…I love you.”

You were so lost in pleasure that his words didn’t fully register in your ear. You were too close to your climax to think straight. And you were only pushed further when Marcus moved a hand to your center to rub at your clit. A loud cry escaped your throat as you felt your body tremble with your approaching orgasm.

You stilled yourself on top of Marcus while he pounded into you from below, “Marcus… I’m gonna cum…”

He grit his teeth and rubbed at your clit harder, his own pleasure was paused so he could watch you lose control on top of him. It only took a few more thrusts for Marcus to get what he wanted, and you came with a loud scream. Your whole body trembled as you fought to keep yourself upright, and you clawed at his chest as you rode out your climax on his cock.

Once you lost all your strength, you fell forward and rested on Marcus’ chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around you and thrust into you with reckless abandon. He moaned your name in your ear as his own climax soon took him over, and he held you tightly as he spilled his release deep inside you.

Fully spent, Marcus flopped his legs down onto the bed. You glanced up at his face while you kept your head on his chest, and when he opened his eyes to meet yours, you both couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles. His cock stayed buried inside you while you stayed content on top of him.

Marcus kept one arm securely around you while he brought his other hand to cup your face. You leaned into his touch with a smile before you let him pull your face close to his for another kiss. This kiss, however, was slower and softer than your previous ones. There was no need to rush anymore, and you just lingered your lips on his for a time.

You felt him smile into the kiss as he tightened his grip on your waist. Marcus savored the feeling of your body on top of his, the warmth you brought was a comfort unlike anything else. And it wasn’t just from the heat of passion you two just shared. He genuinely felt strongly for you, and Marcus found that he never wanted this moment to end. Especially when his cock still remained deep inside you.

As much as you wanted to stay like this with your lips against his, your neck started to strain, so you broke away and rested your head on Marcus’ chest. You closed your eyes as you listened to his heart beat, and you grinned when you realized how fast it still pounded. You felt him trace patterns along your back as he held you close, and you wrapped your limbs around him as much as you could.

While you were able to enjoy the peace, your mind wandered and you fully realized what Marcus said while he fucked you, “Marcus…” you broke the comfortable silence, “Did… Did you mean what you said?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes this time.

His breath hitched in his throat as you felt his grip on you tighten. Marcus was quiet for several moments, and you almost told him to forget it when he finally answered, “Yes,” his voice was just above a whisper. If there was any other noise in the room, you wouldn’t have heard him, “I love you,” he said your name, “I’ve loved you since the moment we met,” he chuckled as he thought back to that day, “I never thought I’d love again but…” he drifted off and you closed your eyes, “You changed everything for me.”

You finally lifted your head up to meet his eyes again, and you gasped when you saw the sincerity in those beautiful deep brown eyes. He looked so vulnerable as he watched you, and you could tell he was just as nervous as you were.

“I love you too Marcus,” you spoke before you placed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

His eyes went wide for a moment. Even though your training session derailed in the best possible way, it never even crossed Marcus’ mind that you loved him too. He breathed your name as he held you as tightly as he possibly could and kissed you again. His cock twitched inside you slightly, which made you moan into the kiss.

“Marcus…” you broke away just enough to speak against his lips, “I love you, but I’m going to need a few minutes,” you pulled away even further to look into his eyes as you propped yourself up on his chest, “You wore me out.”

“Honestly… me too,” Marcus laughed as he placed a hand on your head to gently guide you back down to rest on his chest, “Take all the time you need,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Notes: Thank you anon for that request! I loved writing this! And I’m honestly mad at myself that I didn’t think of it because this is my JAM!! I hope y’all enjoyed this :)

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno imagine #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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cinemassance-oneshots · 3 years

Text

Don’t Touch Her—Spencer Reid

Word count: 3.6k

angst and fluff

Synopsis: you and Reid go undercover for a case and it goes wrong. You finally hear how Reid feels about you.

Warnings: mention of violence and gore.

A/N: I’m quite new to one shots, so I hope you enjoy. You are free to send in requests. I am still new to tumblr, so I hope to figure stuff out soon on here. I plan to do more characters, make a master list pinned to my board, and do smut chapters in the future <3

I was originally getting my morning coffee until I got the call from Garcia. I pressed my lips together as she confirmed it was another case before I proceeded to ask what coffee she wanted. If I ever got a call about a case and I was already at a coffee shop, I would grab coffee for the rest of the team. It was only fair, and they would do the same for me. We’re all a family.

I carefully carried the trays of coffee in my hands to the building.

“Do you need a hand?” I didn’t have to look up to see who it was. I would know that voice anywhere.

I turned to look at him with a smile. “That would be great, Spence.”

He shot me a smile as he reached over and grabbed a tray. The brief contact of our skin touching made my heart flutter momentarily.

Without hesitation, Spencer opened the door and let me in. “You shouldn’t spoil us with coffee all the time.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I glanced up at him. “It’s fine. I’m keeping tabs,” I joked. “Don’t worry. I got your coffee how you like. Although, I don’t understand why you insist on dairy since you’re lactose intolerant.”

“What can I say? I like dairy.” “But tummy aches,” I replied. “A little pain is worth it.”

I rolled my eyes at him. He could be so stubborn at times. We stepped into the elevator to go meet the rest of our team. Most of them were already seated at the table.

“You’re such a life-saver,” JJ told me with a grin. I smiled back as I started to hand everyone their coffees.

“Last, but not least,” I said as I turned to face Spencer. “Dr. Reid,” I finished in a softer tone. I could’ve sworn I saw him gulp, but I was probably imagining it.

As soon as everyone showed up, Garcia went on to tell us about the new case. We all flipped through our files as she spoke. It’s not hard to admit this job is difficult, especially with how monstrous some people are.

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told us as he left the room.

***

Spencer and I were partnered to go to the coroner’s office. The person went over the details as I looked at the bodies and Spencer read the files.

“Can he really read that fast,” the woman asked me, making me briefly glance up at her.

“Yes,” I replied before looking back at the bodies. “You said the male was most likely hit with an iron chain that was also used to strangle him afterwards?”

“That’s what it points to. Why?”

“Wielding a big chain is a lot harder than most people tend to believe,” Spencer informed as he handed her the file back.

“Here’s the other thing though,” the forensics started to speak, “the female victim had lacerations on her skin from leather. It’s possible she was whipped with leather while he was whipped with a chain.”

“We could be looking at two unsubs,” I thought out loud as I looked up at Spencer. He nodded.

“I think so too.” “I’ll call Hotch.”

I stepped outside of the room as I called him. Not long after Hotch answered. “What did you guys find?”

“We’re looking for two unsubs. One is strong enough to wield an iron chain as a whip and the other is weaker since they used a leather whip on the female victim.”

“Thanks. If you and Reid find anything else, let me know.”

And with that, the call ended. I found my way back to Spencer to catch up on any more details he learned. He caught me up on the information, which shocked forensics to see he spoke every detail verbatim.

We thanked the woman before leaving to head to the precinct to catch up with the team.

“What are you thinking Reid?” I glanced over at him as I drove. It was as if I could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I know it seems weird, but I think it might be a couple who committed these murders.”

“So the guy kills the male and the girl kills the female. They probably get off on watching each other torture and kill their victim.”

“The male uses a chain to beat and kill the guy showing his dominance and strength.”

“And the woman uses a leather whip which is usually associated with BDSM.”

“Exactly,” Spencer agreed.

As soon as Spencer and I got to the precinct, we told the team what we came up with and what forensics showed. We all went around putting in our input based on the evidence all of us gathered and learned.

Unfortunately, that’s when we all received news there were more victims just found.

I went with Emily and Morgan to look at the crime scene. The victimology was the same. The male was brutally tortured and killed with a metal chain and the female with a leather whip. It’s unsettling to know there are couples who do these things together, let alone a single person.

Once we returned to meet with the rest of the team, we learned each couple went to the same bar the night they went missing. It was no coincidence. That bar meant something to that couple. With all the information we gather, we were finally ready to deliver the profile.

After it was delivered, Hotchner began to talk about a plan he had in mind.

“We need to set up an undercover operation for tonight,” Hotch spoke. “We’ll have multiple people stationed throughout the area to keep an eye out.”

Everyone nodded. Everyone understood the plan.

“Two of my agents will be the ones going undercover. I need as many others as possible to be around the area ready to catch this couple. Be careful and aware of everything, but remember to be subtle. We don’t want to announce our presence before they’ve made themselves known. Any alarm could ruin this.”

And with that the plan was set in motion.

Hotch pulled me and Spencer aside to speak with us. “I need you two to go undercover as the couple.”

I almost wanted to look at Spencer and imagine it was all real. I desperately wanted to know what it would be like to be with him, but I made sure to keep my mind fixated on the case at hand.

JJ helped me get ready. I wasn’t exactly great at doing my makeup myself, so I was glad she helped.

“Try to explain to me why you and Reid aren’t dating in real life again,” she asked with a small smirk.

“I don’t know..,” I softly said.

That was the truth. I didn’t know how to make a move or what to do with Spencer. Every time I thought about it, my palms would sweat profusely and my heart would race that I would have to change the subject in my head.

“I see the way you both look at each other. Trust me, everyone does.”

I quirked a brow. “What?”

JJ let out a small chuckle. “After we close this case, I think you should go for it. I just hope you do it soon, otherwise I’ll lose this bet going on.”

“You have a bet going on about me and Spencer?”

JJ did a sly smile and shrugged her shoulders. “Good luck tonight. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you two.”

“Thanks, JJ.”

I felt a little odd wearing a dress. I prefer slacks or skirts but dresses always felt different to me. I at least felt more secure having one of my smaller guns strapped to my thigh.

“Hey, hot mama,” Derek said with a grin.

I lightly punched his arm. “I can still kick your ass, Morgan.”

He let out a laugh as I rolled my eyes. Hotch walked up and handed me my earpiece. “We’ll be listening to everything. We’ll tell you and Reid if we notice something.”

I nodded as I listened and put the piece in. I let my hair fall over it to help conceal the device.

As soon as Reid walked over, my heart raced at the site of him. It was rare to see him in jeans and a plain button down. He looked good in anything.

Hotch gave him his earpiece as well and told him what he just told me. I almost felt that out of the corner of my eye I saw Reid glance at me a few times.

Spencer and I made our way outside of the precinct to use one of the undercover cars to drive to the place. He got on the drivers side.

“You, uh, look really pretty,” Spencer spoke. His voice came out a little broken and nervous.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I smiled. “Thanks. JJ did a good job.”

I watched as his mouth parted but closed after a second. I wanted so desperately to know what he was planning on saying. Usually he never thought about not speaking once something was on his mind. It made me even more curious.

“You look good too,” I decided to speak. I watched as he gulped and lightly blushed.

“I-I do? I haven’t worn jeans in about 20 years.”

“You always look good,” I mumbled. I was afraid he would hear what I said.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied in a fast tone. “I was mumbling to myself.”

“Oh… Okay.”

I glanced over and saw a ghost of a smile on his lips. My heart raced as I asked myself if he heard me or not.

When we arrived at the bar, Spencer opened the door for me like he usually does.

“Such a gentleman.” I smiled and looked up at him.

“Well, you deserve the best.”

My heart fluttered. Did he mean himself? Was he trying to be the best he could? For me?

He held out his hand before I grasped it in my own. I couldn’t deny that it was a wonderful feeling holding his hand. Mine felt so small in his.

We walked inside to find it crowded. Apparently it was a popular bar. It was also happy hour, so that explained a lot of things.

“What would you like to drink,” Spencer leaned in and asked me. His breath on my skin sent exciting shivers down my back.

“Cranberry juice. That way it looks like I might be drinking a mixed drink,” I whispered to him. He nodded.

I don’t know how long we were there, but it felt like a while. Spencer and I sat at the bar sipping our drinks, talking, and looking around inconspicuously.

I leaned in and whispered into Spencer’s ear. “I don’t know if this will be enough to attract them. But when I pull away, act as if I said something enticing to you.”

When I pulled away, I saw a smile on Spencer’s lips as he looked at me.

“I’ve never seen you two in before.”

Spencer and I turned to see a guy in his mid-30’s holding two beers.

“We’re just visiting. We had to try this place out because we kept hearing so many good things,” I replied with a smile.

“We always love welcoming new people. I’m John, by the way. That’s my fiancé Cindy over there.”

He turned and pointed to a blonde woman seated at a table who waved over at us with a bright smile.

“Fiancé? Congratulations,” I told him. “When is the special day?”

“We’re still settling on one. You both are more than welcome to join us at our table.”

I looked over at Spencer to meet his eyes. “Does that sound good, Matt?”

He nodded with a smile as we walked over and joined them at the table.

“Hi, I’m Cindy,” the woman said with a smile.

“June.” “Matt.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I hope John wasn’t bothering you. We’ve just never seen your faces around here before.”

“We’re visiting,” I answered.

Something in my gut told me this was them, but I didn’t have any proof. Yet.

We spoke with them a for a while. Without thinking, I reached under the table and searched for Spencer’s hand. It was almost like he knew because his hand found mine and squeezed it reassuringly.

“How about another round of drinks,” John asked as he stood up.

“I’ll come with,” Spencer replied as he stood up.

They left leaving me and Cindy alone. “You’re a lucky girl,” she told me.

“You are too. You and John look so happy together.”

“But the way Matt looks at you,” she spoke and bit her lip lightly. “John never looks at me that way. You got yourself a winner.”

“I think we both do.”

I suddenly had a nausea wave over me. “Woah, hun! You okay there?”

“Yeah, I, um—where’s the restroom?”

“Here, I’ll help you. You don’t look so good.”

I didn’t have time to think since I felt like I was about to puke any second. Cindy stood up and helped me stumble my way to the restroom.

I rushed into a stall and immediately threw up. I plucked the piece out of my ear and held it in my palm so the others wouldn’t have to listen to me puking. I know I wouldn’t want to listen to it.

I slumped over after I finished.

“Are you finished yet?”

I could barely form a word as I glanced over and saw the end of a barrel. How could I be so stupid? I just hoped someone would come crashing into the bathroom to get her, but no one came.

“Get up,” she told me.

I could barely stand as I did what she told me to do. I briefly looked around and noticed the restroom didn’t look like a public one but a single person one. I cursed myself in my head.

She grasped my arm tightly and held the gun to my side. “Walk with me like normal and I won’t kill you right here. I want to at least have some fun before I do that.”

There was excitement laced in her voice. It made me sick again hearing it. How someone could be so excited to kill something else. Another human being.

I was led to a van. Every step I prayed someone would come help. Anyone.

I was shocked inside with the door immediately closed behind me. I threw up again. I couldn’t think of when my drink could’ve been drugged.

My legs and arms felt numb as I slumped onto the floor of the van. I wanted to reach for my gun or do something, but my body wouldn’t let me.

I could barely make out the sound of Spencer’s voice as he clung onto me.

“What did you do to her,” he demanded. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so angry.

“Relax, why don’t you,” John snapped. “She’ll be conscious enough soon.”

And with that, Spencer went unconscious beside me after the end of a gun butted against his temple.

***

My eyelids flickered open adjusting to the lightly. My arms were tied being my back with rope. I looked over to find an unconscious Spencer. I knew my gun was snatched away by them, so the hopes with that were gone.

I softly spoke his name as I tried to move closer to him. A hum left his throat as his head slightly moved. I nudged him lightly a few times.

As soon as his eyes opened, they landed on me with a worried expression.

“Did they hurt you?”

I shook my head as I looked at the small patch of blood on his temple.

“Is your head okay?”

“It’ll be fine… I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Spence.”

“I should’ve paid attention more, then we wouldn’t be here. I could’ve done more to protect us, protect you,” he said as he looked away.

“Spence, look at me,” I pleaded. “None of this is your fault. We’ll get out of this.”

I looked around, but we were in a completely bare room with nothing that could help us. When I looked back at Spencer, he was looking at me.

“Why are you looking at me that way?”

“I want to make sure the imprint of your features are engraved in my brain in case something happens.”

How could he make my heart swarm in a situation like this?

“This might sound insanely morbid, but if I had to die with anyone, I’m glad you’re the last person I’ll see.”

A small chuckle left his throat. I loved that sound so much.

“That is extremely morbid, but I understand what you mean... I have to tell you something.”

I stayed silent to let him know I was listening. I watched as he glanced down and swallowed hard.

“I want you to know that I’ve liked you ever since you joined the team… I regret never doing anything about it. I guess I was scared.”

Spencer slowly looked back up at me. I almost felt like I was going to cry from both the situation and finally hearing those words leave his mouth.

“I like you too, Spence.”

I wanted to say more, but the door busted open and the couple walked in.

“Well, ain’t that precious,” John said in an amused tone.

Cindy walked closer to me. I tried to move away, but I was helpless.

“Don’t touch her,” Spencer demanded as he lunged forward but was held back my John.

“You don’t get to make demands. I can’t wait to see you watch her die. Cindy is amazing with her craft.”

I felt sick at his words as she wrapped a hand around my throat. Her grasp tightened as she pulled me up. John ordered Spencer to get up as well as they led us to another room.

Spencer was forced into a chair and was tied down as my arms were lifted above me to be locked to a chain.

I watched with disgust as Cindy stroked Spencer’s face. “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this one. He loves her so much.”

She smiled wickedly as she glanced up from beside him. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when she takes her last breath. I’m getting turned on just thinking about it.”

“Kill me first,” his voice broke out.

“What?”

“Kill me first. It should be me.”

I yanked on the chain as tears threatened to stream down my cheeks. I wanted to scream at him for saying such a thing.

Cindy stood up as she hummed. “I thought John told you that you don’t get to make demands.”

I kept my eyes on Spencer that I didn’t even notice her pick up her whip. It wasn’t until the first slash cut into my skin that I noticed.

A cry erupted from my mouth as my eyes squeezed shut.

Spencer screamed out as he tried to get out of the chair to help in some way. Tears poured down both of our faces.

I could feel my own blood run down my skin as the slashes kept coming. It soaked my torn clothing and my body. My throat finally started to feel hoarse from my cries. My legs couldn’t even keep my body up. Only the chain kept me up.

“FBI, put your weapons down!”

I could barely raise my head to see what was going on. I heard a shot ring out before I felt hands on me.

Spencer gently held me and made sure to not touch the cuts as someone else freed my wrists from the chains. I fell into his arms as he kept me up.

“I need a medic,” he cried out.

My heartbeat was going incredibly fast. The pain was unbearable.

“Someone get a medic now!”

Everything was a blur. One moment I was in Spencer’s arms, then I was in an ambulance with Spencer holding my hand firmly in his before I went unconscious.

***

I woke up in a hospital bed.

I felt something beside me and saw Spencer’s hand holding mine with his head slumped over on the bed asleep. A small smile formed on my lips.

I moved to readjust as I felt a wave of pain sear throughout my body. I hissed at the sensation, which immediately woke Spencer up.

“What’s wrong?” He instantly asked as he looked at me with a worried expression.

“Just the pain,” I replied.

I saw guilt wash over his face as he looked down. His hand left mine. It felt cold and lonely without his touch.

“It’s my fault you’re like this.”

“Hey,” I reached up to hold his face with my hand closest to him, “None of this is your fault. Don’t you dare feel guilty about any of this. You did everything you could.”

Spencer reached up and grabbed my hand. He brought it back to the bed and held it in both of his hands.

“I’m so sorry.”

I gave his hand a light squeeze. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake.”

I grasped his hand tighter to stop him. “In a little bit. I just want to be with you right now.”

Spencer sat back down as he nodded.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything,” he said as he looked up and gave me his full attention.

I took a deep breath before I parted my lips to speak. “Did you mean everything you said back there?”

His brows furrowed together. “I meant every word. I would never lie to you.”

My heart fluttered at his words. It made me so happy to hear him say that despite all the pain I was currently in. In a way, having him beside me and talking with him made the pain easier.

“I, um, was wondering if maybe we could try a real date once you’re better and everything,” Spencer softly spoke as he looked down at our hands. I smiled at how cute he was being.

“I’d love that.”

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid angst #mgg fluff #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg angst #imagine #read more

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nepenthendline · 3 years

Note

hiiii! i saw you were doing the mini event and i’d love to be apart if it! ok so i’m not totally sure how to request this but i’m just gonna go for it lol. so imagine (just pick any of them) kuroo, ushi, sakusa, or aone (can you tell i have a type) and they see their cute lil wife making cookies or something and singing and all they think is: “i’m gonna put a baby in her🧍‍♂️” and they walk up behind her, wrap their arms around her, and QUE THE SMUT (size and breeding kink go BRRR)

anyways i’ve got SO MANY ideas rn lol but if this is something you’re uncomfortable with or if i did this wrong, please ignore it!! thank you so much🤍

Size and breeding kink - Aone

A/N: hhhhhhhhh you’re gonna kill me, this is all I want stop, also I picked aone because... its aone

Aone:

Aone arrived home from work, although you didn’t greet him at the door with a kiss like usual. Instead he heard your voice call from the kitchen with a ‘welcome home’. Taking off his shoes and jacket, he made his way into the kitchen. Each step closer brought a stronger, sweet scent, mixed with the quiet music that played.

Rounding the corner, he saw you dressed in a messy apron, covered in flour, and swaying your hips to the beat. The kitchen was littered with bowls, ingredients and measuring cups, as well as the tray in front of you that was starting to fill up with cookies that you moulded in your hands.

He couldn’t take his eyes of the way your small, soft palms shaped the pliable dough, or how your fingers flexed each time you grabbed a new handful from the bowl. The balls of cookie dough seemed so small compared to what he was used to seeing you handle and grip.

Aone bit down on his lip as he watched you turn your head to send him the sweetest of smiles, almost as sugary as the treats you were baking. His mind was flooded with thoughts of you nesting the house as you prepared for a baby, or how you would bake cookies and pancakes for him and your future children. You looked so cute in your apron, but would it look even cuter if it was stretched out over your growing, round tummy?

Taking a few, large steps forward, he wrapped his arms around your waist and bend down to press a kiss to the top of your head. His hands could fit over the majority of your stomach since you were so much smaller than him, and his thick arms had you completely trapped to his chest.

He was never usually too forward when it came to his neediness for you, but right now all he could think about was filling your tummy with his child, his cum. Brushing your hair to one side, he dragged kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, reviling in the way your shivered against his touch. You let out a little giggle as his fingers danced over your skin on your waist,

“Are you feeling a little needy, baby?” You asked, turning around in his hold and resting your hands on his broad chest. With flushed cheeks he nodded, leaning down to kiss you gently.

“Mhm, wanna fill you up,” he muttered against your lips. Even though his cock was strained in his jeans and his mind was racing over you, he was still so delicate when he held you or kissed you, as if you would break.

His hands shook ever so slightly as he helped untie the apron from your back, and he only broke the kiss to pull it off, along with ridding you of your trousers and underwear. One hand left your waist and trailed down to your folds, dragging a finger across them to smear your wetness. One thick finger prodded at your entrance, sliding in with a slight stretch and pulling a moan from you.

He continued to kiss you as his hand worked at your core at a steady pace, building up your release but never fast enough to reach your high. He loved having his fingers deep in your pussy, or getting his face soaked as you rocked over his tongue, but he needed his cock in you immediately - he told himself he’d make it up to you next him.

You whined at the emptiness, clenching around nothing to feel some sort of friction, but that quickly changed to a squeak of surprise when he lifted you by your thighs and laid you down on the kitchen table. Wasting no time, he pulled his thick cock from his trousers, pumping it a few times before lining it up to your pussy. With one look to meet your eyes, he silently asked for your approval, to which you nodded and gripped his arm, preparing for what was to come.

He stared intensely as his dick stretched out your cunt, filling you well as you clenched tightly around him. No matter how many times you took him, it was always a tight fit - a perfect plug to keep all of his cum inside you.

His body bent over you as he pounded into your pussy, blocking the light from above with his size. You looked so desperate, so vulnerable beneath him, and a groan was ripped from his throat at the thought of being the only one to take care of you like this.

One hand moved to your stomach, fingers spread out over your entire lower torso and kneading at the flesh. He could feel the small bulge in your tummy every time his hips thrusted forward, driving him crazy. If he came enough in you he knew that bulge would stay for him to admire whenever he desired.

“‘M gonna cum inside you. Gonna make you so full, so round baby,” he murmured in your ear between groans. His deep voice alone has you whining and clenching around his dick, trying to force his cum into you. “Wanna see you with a big, beautiful tummy.”

His face and neck were stained with red as he gasped, unable to hold out any longer. Thick ropes of his cum lined your walls as his cock twitched, and the warm fullness was the trigger to send you into your own orgasm. Your back arched off of the table, supported by one of his large hands as your body spasmed around him.

After your fuzzy sight came back to focus, you watched him panting above you, trying to catch his breath while still towering over your body. He bent his neck down, placing a passionate yet soft kiss on your lips, before burying his head by your throat. Your hand lifted to run through his hair, trying to tame it somewhat and settled on his shoulder.

“You can take it out now y’know? We can go cuddle on the sofa or take a bath together,” you murmur, too tired to put much effort into it. But you felt him shake his head against your neck.

“Need to stay here for a bit longer, gotta make sure my cum doesn’t go to waste.”

#*nervously giggles*#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu smut #Aone takanobu #aone takanobu x reader #Aone x reader

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emperor-palpaminty · 3 years

Text

Heart Song (2)

In which Tech grows closer to his soulmate and his training deepens his understanding if who he is.

Tech was in a good mood. He had narrowed it down to two reasons:

1. He was doing more specialized lessons and training, meaning less time getting dirty looks from the other boys.

2. He had all the words to his soulmate's lullaby figured out. She had sung him the one about whiskey several times, and would be overjoyed that he had learned it.

Tech was humming it over breakfast today, stirring the unnamable food on his tray with his spoon, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Someone's in a good mood." His blonde brother remarked. He'd said he would go in for special combat and sniping training later today, so he was less snide and sarcastic than usual.

Tech nodded, shoving the spoonful in his mouth. "Excited for training, that's all."

"You're telling me!" Wrecker cheered. "I get to throw things all day."

The most average looking out of the four of them nodded. He didn't say anything- he didn't have much to say, typically. He hadn't said much about what he was apparently specialized in- but he'd started sleeping with eye and ear coverage since he'd met with Nalaa Se.

"Apparently, I'm going to be running through programming and artificial anatomy today." Tech's leg bounced and he wondered if he should tell them about the lullaby. Not yet, at least, he decided. "Then we get to do training together later."

Wrecker laughed, smacking the table. "I hope you guys are prepared! I'm thinking I can throw one of you at a droid."

"Please don't." The blonde one mumbled, lowering his spoon.

Tech grinned, pushing up his glasses, chuckling. "Let's see what they give us. I wouldn't mind being thrown."

Wrecker cheered, leading the oldest of them, the most normal looking, to chuckle and pick up his tray. "I've got to run. I'll see you later."

"Bye." Wrecker waved, and Tech and the blonde one repeated after him. Wrecker shoved the last bits of the gelatenous pile of nutrition in front of him into his mouth, swallowing mightily and jumping up. “I’ve gotta run too.” he waved at his brothers and practically sprinted out, giggling gleefully about throwing heavy things.

Tech stirred his food, standing after a moment, walking in a haze to the appointed training room. What did his soulmate look like? He sighed, happily, thinking of her voice. Maybe her hair was long! Or curly! Did she have glasses too?

There was an obvious pep in his step as he entered the training room, mechanical mind engineering all the faces she could possibly have. No matter how she looked, his little heart was already pledged so deeply to her that he was scared if he took it away he would simply die.

Tech sat down at the screen, fingers flying over the keys, embracing each click as a musician does his instrument. He found his leg bouncing under the pristine table to the song he had memorized.

What will make the dumb talk, what will make the lame walk, what's the elixer of life-

Tech blinked as the screen flashed, them went blank. He looked up at the Sargent standing behind him. "What happened?"

"You finished." The Sargent offered him a half smile, taking the headset Tech removed from his ears. "Good job, kid."

Tech stood, quiet, nodding softly. He paused and looked back. "Sargent, sir?' A grunt acknowledged him, and Tech inhaled. "Is there any way I can... find music?"

The Sargent hummed in thought, glancing at the boy, brow piqued in... concern? Question? Tech felt his face flush. "If it's no trouble-"

"No, no. Cadets don't usually ask. That's all." The Sargent rubbed a finger along the headset, pushing his lips together in thought. "There's a few spare radios in the hangar bay. Gonna be shipped out and thrown. If you can fix one, it's yours."

Tech perked up. "I can?"

"Yes." The Sargent smiled, shaking his head softly, but the curious glint had been replaced with amusement. "Go on, now. You're due for combat in an hour."

Tech thanked him before marching away as quickly as he could, doing all in the world he could to not skip. He paused, looking around, and then whispered, "Song bird?"

There was a pause, and then a gleeful giggle responded. "Smarty pants! Calling so early?"

Bobbing his head in a nod, Tech smiled. "Yeah. I wanted to ask you something. The Sargent said if I could fix one of the radios, I could have it. I want to listen to music. Maybe I'll know lullabies too."

"Please!" She gasped. "You would learn songs for me?'

The joy in her voice alone was enough to send the boy spiraling again, imagining the smile on every face he could imagine. "I would learn all the songs for you," Tech sighed, narrowly avoiding bumping into a rather stern-looking trainee, smiling apologetically, the rose haze of infatuation lifting briefly.

"You're so sweet!" The girl gushed, squealing. "Who knew my soul mate would be such a sweet heart?"

"I thought I was smarty pants."

"A sweet-smarty-heart-pants."

The words didn't make much sense, but Tech conceded, making his way into the darkened hanger. "I did lots of training today."

"What kind?"

"It's pretty boring," Tech admitted, sheepishly, as he tugged at a cable.

"You want to listen to my songs! I want to know what you know."

His heart was near exploding, it was beating so quickly. "You... do?" Other clones steered clear of the nerd, and his brothers could get easily frustrated with Tech talking about things they just wouldn't understand. Mechanics and physics were beyond them, though fascinating to him. "No one ever wants to know."

"Well," She reasoned, and Tech imagined her puckering her lips in thought. "If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, I want to know more about what you like."

The rest of our lives.

His face went red again, and Tech made an involuntary noise, joy washing over him as he finally heaved up a smaller, clunky radio from the pile. "That sounds incredible." He clutched that device to his little chest, heart racing, and almost slumped over.

He stood and walked, a sense of purpose in his heart. "Can I talk to you more tonight?"

"You can talk to me any time." She sighed in response, sounding almost as smitten as Tech felt. "What are you going to do now?"

"My brothers and I are going to the arena. We're practicing combat today." He picked up his pace, dispensing the radio at the foot of his bed. "We're trying to be soldiers. Training is important."

"Do your brothers know about me?"

"No." Tech inhaled. "I'm technically not supposed to be talking to you."

She sounded horrified, appalled. "Will you get in trouble? Why?"

He shrugged, adding "I'm not sure, I just shouldn't," a little lamely. "But I really want to keep talking to you. We can have a secret together! Just one you and I know about."

She laughed, in affirmation, stating it sounded so romantic and thrilling, like some story her fathers read to her. Tech could only smile as he hurried down the hall to join his brothers for their combat training.

___

It wasn't that Tech hadn't believed Nalaa Se when she stated they were an experimental batch of specialized troopers. As far as he knew, the Kaminoans wanted the best for him and his brothers. It just shocked him as he watched the four of them, himself included, in action.

The blonde one was deadly accurate with a shot, taking only a second to scale upwards, aim, and take down a series of AI. Wrecker abandoned his gun for throwing droids at each other, practically invincible in his cadet-regulated armor, and the oldest one, the normal looking one, wove away from his brothers quickly and between the barriers, making his way quickly towards the droids.

Tech was stunned. For all the engineering, for all his brains, he lacked skill and brawn. He stationed himself behind the barrier, shooting at the droids that stalked up. He grimaced, looking around. His batch was too far, and he was alone.

He exhaled, hands shaking on the training pistol. He thought that the mechanics, the autonomy, were all he needed-

Tech paused. He lowered his gun, glancing around. "Wrecker! I need that commander droid!" He saw Wrecker give a brief grunt of agreement, and then he ran towards Wrecker, who was currently yanking down the commander droid.

Tech yanked the droid down and pried open its head, tugging around at cords and wires. "Wrecker, cover me!" He grimaced, fingers working at the cords, small brain working to try and remember what did what.

The droids shut down, and Wrecker cheered. "This is the end of your training session. Please return to the point of entry."

Tech felt his shoulders slump, abandoning the droid's cranium. His plan- it hadn't worked. He just wasted his time. The room was littered with remnants of practice deoids his brothers had easily taken down, and here he was, struggling with one. Tech stood, slowly, and followed his brothers, shuffling in behind them, shame covering his face, and he reluctantly moved his helmet from his head, eyes downcast. His glasses slid down his nose as he tried to not sniffle.

Stupid glasses. Useless clone.

___

He tinkered with the radio, quiet, waiting for his soul mate's voice. It seemed to be the only thing that would bring him comfort.

Even his oldest brother's encouragement wasn't enough. "It was a good plan, Tech! You'll get the hang of it." Tech had only mumbled in response and let the blonde dissuade Wrecker (who was dramatically reenacting the training), leading the others out to go watch a spar between some older cadets.

The door opened, and only a muffled step responded. "Tech?'

The boy grunted a soft hello to 99. He didn't bother glancing back, frustrated tears still pricking his eyes. Good soldiers don't cry.

Tech heard 99 approach, and felt the weight of his bed shift. The older clone was kind, caring- especially towards this batch. Perhaps he was some of himself in them. "What's wrong, Tech?"

"Nothing," Tech whimpered, trying to inject venom in his words. It was a pitiful attempt. His grip on the radio slipped and it collapsed on the bed. Tech sniffled, reaching up to rub his eyes, still not looking at 99. "I'm useless."

"Now, Tech, don't go saying that." 99 reached down with a knotted hand and gently patted Tech's shoulder, letting the boy sniffle as he hugged his pillow. "What makes you believe that?"

Tech inhaled, shakily, removing his glasses and rubbing his face. "W-well," he gulped in air. "I was tr-tr-training with my brothers," His voice warbled, and he swallowed to contain it.

Good soldiers don't cry.

The older clone offered a gentle smile, nodding and humming in encouragement.

Tech gave a sob. I'm not a good soldier. "I tried to do something during training. I saw Wrecker and- well, they don't have names yet, but they were all doing these amazing new combat skills." Tech's face went red and he rubbed at the tears, now breaking past their barrier. "And I just... sat there. I thought, maybe I could re-program the commander- but- I- I-"

Tech broke. He buried his face in his little hands and began sobbing. His fingers felt soft, and he drew his head away in disgust. Wrecker already had blisters from lifting weights, and the other two were forming callouses from their specialized combatative training, with knives and rifles. "My hands are wimpy, even." Tech whined, pulling his knees to his chest.

99 kept his hand firm but easy on Tech's arm. He patted the boy's back, listening to him gulp in air and try to control his breathing, and waiting patiently. "Breathe deep. You'll want to, because I have something to say."

Tech sniffled, picking his head up and inhaling through his snotty nose, then exhaling from his lips, thick from crying. His face was still warm, and his eyes felt dry, but his chest felt lighter. He glanced at 99, who was smiling softly, the comforting weight of his hand still on Tech's shoulder. When he finished, 99 scooted closer, hands moving to shakily pick up the radio. "You aren't useless. Would you call me useless?"

"Never!" Tech drew away, fingers gripping the glasses in his hands. "You're not!"

99 chuckled gingerly, adjusting the radio to sit in his lap. "My point exactly. None of us are useless, Tech." His knobbled fingers traced the old radio, thoughtfully, as if trying to draw words from the stations not playing on it. "One way or another, we live to serve each other. We all have a purpose. It can be hard to find. You seem to know yours, Tech, and you should value it. You're smart and I don't know any other clones who would think of running out into battle to try and hack a commander droid." He reached to his chest pocket, tugging out a small and thin cylindrical object. "Sometimes, though, you need tools to get you there."

Tech's sniffles had subsided. He was down to taking a few occasional shaky breaths, watching the clone work gingerly on the radio. "So, I need tools?"

"Everyone does." 99 stated simply. "You're all good kids- gonna be good troopers, too." 99 tapped the know, smiling slightly in victory when it crackled to life. "You're just gonna need to have to right tools to make your purpose happen."

Shoving his glasses on, Tech scrambled to the radio. "You fixed it!" He bounced on his knees, turning the dials with a loving unfamiliarity. "Thank you."

"Any time," 99 stood with a grunt, hobbling towards the door.

Tech rotated towards him. "99?"

"Hm?"

"Can I tell you a secret? It has to be between us, okay?"

Chuckling, 99 slid the door shut again, sitting down on the bench. Standing for a long time was hard on his body, and Tech scooted his legs under him. "Sure, Tech. I'll keep it between us."

"I met someone." He grinned, fiddling with the radio. "She's wonderful."

"She?" 99 blinked. "General Tii?"

Tech shook his head, excitement bubbling in him. "My soulmate." He grinned widely. "I have a soulmate! She's wonderful," he repeated, knees bouncing. "She likes to sing and she listens to me."

99 grinned, crow's feet by his eyes wrinkling. "Tell me about her."

"Well, she sings to me.' Tech's chest tingled, and he felt like a fog, a good fog, was closing in on him. "I don't know her name, though. She doesn't know mine." He paused, setting down the radio. "I really want to meet her some day, 99." Tech adjusted his glasses, pausing. "I'm not going to be useless to her, I hope."

"You won't be." 99 smiled, standing. "Not a lot of cadets are familiar with soulmates, here." He paused. "And I'm not good with girls myself, but if you need anything, let me know." He grinned and stood, grunting with effort. "We all deserve a soulmate. I'm glad you have one."

Tech exhaled in relief, assured that the soulmate would be kept between the two of them, and he turned on the radio, listening for songs to learn just for his soul mate.

Tech quietly curled up in bed, awaiting for her voice to fill him.

But it didn't. Not that night.

___

Tag list:

Thank you all for your comments! Im trying to figure out how to change this to my primary blog so I can respond without posting my personal blog a ton! I see and love all your comments, they don't go ignored. I'm just trying to figure out dumb technology, haha!

@m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @lafy-taffy @photowizard17 @nick-djarin @fanfic-cave @shytastemakerthing @phoenixhalliwell

#bad batch #tech x reader #bad batch reader insert #tech x you #bad batch tech x you #soulmate au #clone force 99 #clone wars reader insert #heart song #minty writes

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starfirette · 3 years

Note

maybe for a part two for mother!reader x armin is when armin is like 15 and she visits the scouts to see him and she ends up embarrassing him??

New Life: a direct sequel to New Start | part three is out!!

The big, round eyes you once swore would be green turned out to be blue.

And they were so eager to leave you and be a man.

It was the hardest choice you’d ever made, allowing your son to leave the village and join the cadet corps. It was what he seemed to want, so so desperately. You couldn’t tell if he wanted it as much as he wanted to follow Eren Jaeger and the Mikasa girl. Both were pleasant enough children. They stood up for your Armin more than enough times to be allowed in your household. You didn’t mind if they both showed up unannounced to take Armin on an adventure or even to eat dinner and spend the night.

Carla was a sweet enough woman who seemed to have the same concerns for Eren that you had for Armin. She wanted them to be friends and be normal children that didn’t have to worry about death and disease. It was a common scene for Carla to walk Eren and the young girl to your house with a freshly baked cherry and butter pie, made from the fresh picked cherries in the shared village orchard.

Hosting the two children was never an issue. You liked having the house filled. The boys even seemed to get Mikasa on her feet, running around and doing some sort of adventure.

Armin’s wide, blue eyes always taunted you, taunting the color green you’d imagined they’d be.

Armin had grown up to be a better young man than you could have ever hoped for. He was a sweet young boy who enjoyed his studies and never forgot his mother’s birthday. He never argued, never disobeyed, (though you like to think he naturally agreed with your set of rules).

It was one evening that he’d burst into a fit of yelling and crying when he broke the blue, crystal vase that had been your obvious favorite piece of decorum in the house. He was a smart child. He noticed how you doted on your vase. It was always filled with fresh flowers, always dusted and cleaned, and never moved from the spot on the credenza in the center of the living space.

You felt a strange sadness as you swept the pieces of thin glass up. You did your best not to let it show. Seeing Armin blubber and apologize profusely with bleeding palms from where he’d tried to mend the vase back together was a sore sight. You weren’t angry. You assured your son as much, holding him and assuring him it was only a ‘thing.’

But you cried that night in your small cot, when you were sure that he’d fallen fast asleep in his own room.

Tears were never a stranger to your household.

You were familiar with them, as you had been all your life.

You’d burst into hysterical tears when, one day, the dishes shook off the counter, clattering and crashing to the floor like an earthquake. You knew like you knew the sky was blue that there were titans. Invasion was on your mind since you’d left the Interior, but you never suspected it would be this way.

You raced to the city square to find Armin. Your boy was with Eren and Mikasa somewhere. But he was small, and tender, and he could be hurt. Your heart fell at the sight of any blond head in the nearest proximity of danger. When you found your boy, you scooped him into your arms, and you ran like you’d never run before.

It was only at the safety point when you’d set Armin down and spoke. You examined him for wounds, asking if he was alright in a straight voice while tears streamed down your face.

It was the beginning of a cruel five years. Eren Jaeger and Mikasa had become your newest children. You cared for them as best as you could. Your discreet funds of money that was stored in banks all across the walled lands did a good job of keeping you all safe and protected. You lived with Armin and the kids for seven months at the new house. It was considerably smaller, but everyone had their own bed, and they never had to worry about food being on the table.

Eventually, the time came for the children to make their choice. You’d sensed it coming from a mile away. How could you not? They were not slick. Eren spoke loudly in the nights about his plan for vengeance and justifying poor Carla’s death. And where Eren would go, Mikasa would. Then Armin would be following close behind, only stuttering when he had the least bit of hesitation.

It was easily, without a doubt, the hardest choice you’d made in your entire life to give Armin your blessing. Even after all he’d been through...he still wanted his mother’s approval.

The time came to leave the children. Their enlistment was eagerly accepted. It wasn’t assuring how quickly they’d been enrolled and cataloged. You knew that the regiments were looking to fill the mass gaps of dead soldiers.

The days of an empty house passed to months. Those winded into years.

You made the three beds every week, re~fluffing the pillows and shaking off the dust. If any of them ever wanted to come back home, you’d have to make sure they had a clean, comfy bed.

It was the motherly part of you that wished for any of them to knock on that door. Where one went, the other two followed, like the stars followed the moon.

Some days you thought of Armin. Armin, the departed husband that is. What a jovial man. You missed him often. He would have approved of the life you’d built. He would have liked Armin, the younger. He might have had better furniture choices.

Letters weren’t enough to keep you from losing your mind. The years just kept adding on, leaving you to wonder what the future held. But one particular letter caught your attention, signed and sealed with the Scout regiment’s signet. Commander Erwin called for an immediate family reunion at one of the safe castles. It would happen while it still could.

Oh, what a relief, you’d thought. You practically threw your clothes in a traveler’s case and took all the paths you could to the castle.

It was clearly a rare occasion. Several wagons and carriages were offering rides to the castle, and every passenger was a parent, aunt, or uncle, with the occasional younger siblings of the other cadets. You hadn’t considered it before, but you’d realized that you weren’t just going to see your son. You were filling the roll as a parent for two others.

Every passenger had a story to tell about their children. You all bonded on the journey with the shared thought, is their child friends with mine? Did they cry together? Train together?

One mother expressed how badly she’d hoped it would be an annual event. Soldiers hardly got leaves of absence. Who knows when you could see your child again?

The last of the wagons rolled up to the castles grandiose pathway. It was quite overgrown with shrubbery, but the look it gave was stupendous. You’d wondered if such a look could be mimicked by growing your own plants at home.

The thoughts vanished as the soldiers were brought out to the courtyard, lining up to find their family. You stood patiently. You waited for the familiar trio to appear. They wouldn’t be the exact same. You caught yourself watching for small children. Everyone here were soldiers, the real kind, albeit most being cadets. You anxiously watched. You tried not to think, “What if they’re dead?”

You’d gotten a letter from all three at least a month ago. And there was no issue of death from the corps. Still, the thought lingered.

You swayed in the breeze, smoothing your dress as you tried to remain patient.

“Mother?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you heard the familiar voice call out to you. You looked around, trying to pinpoint the voice from the crowd. You were hardly able to take a good look when you were rushed by two muscular figures. They both pounced on you, pulling you into a giant hug and delightfully exclaiming something you didn’t understand from your heart beating loudly in your ears.

“Oh, Mother,” Armin said into your head, kissing the top of your hair. He was tall.

He held onto you longer than Eren did, who had pulled back and looked down at you with a gleeful smile.

“You’re both so...tall,” you exclaimed as you pulled away to look at them both. Armin was tall and slender, but his shoulders were broad. His blond hair was clean cut to his chin as it had always been. He was always a neat person. You imagine he would be keeping up with his routine hair trims as usual.

Eren stood even taller than Armin, if that’s possible. His unruly brown hair was wavy and too long, as if he didn’t care to cut it when it grew to the tops of his ears. His shoulders were twice as broad as Armin’s, and you could see even under the uniform he’d grown quite muscular. It figures. With him being a titan, and all, it makes enough sense that he’s muscular.

It’s the first time you’d seen Eren in person since learning via letter he was one of the first of what Armin dubbed a ‘shifter.’ You tried not to let the thought show on your face. Besides, no one here seems to be giving him a hard time.

You couldn’t help but feel the tears form along your eyelashes like dew drops on a spider’s web. You had once held that little blond boy close to your chest, telling him how he had made you the happiest you’d ever been.

You meant it, and you mean it now. You couldn’t help but sniffle at the thought of your little boy all grown up.

Eren laughed while Armin smiled bashfully. “Oh, mother, there’s no need to cry,” he said, bringing you close for another hug.

You wiped your eyes with your thumbs, trying not to embarrass Armin further. “Well, young man, where is that sister of yours?” you asked Eren.

Eren’s gleeful smile faltered just slightly. “She’s not feeling well. She decided to use the day off and catch up on some rest. But she’ll join us for dinner.”

You couldn’t imagine the pain she’d be feeling right about now. It’s no surprise that she’d not felt up to the task of greeting a mother that wasn’t even her own.

Even in Eren’s eyes-who was doing his best to be strong-had a distant sort of grief that lingered in his eyes, especially at the sight of you adjusting Armin’s clothes.

“Mother, I’ll show you to your room,” Armin said, linking his arm in yours. You fondly accepted Eren’s offer to link your other arm in his own. You asked the boys thousands of questions, intently enjoying their answers.

The castle towered tall above you, the rooftops that arched up being blushed with the shadows of the bushy tree tops. You were only one of the many mothers being escorted gently through the vast castle built with limestone that was polished down to perfect edges. Parents and siblings were being taken on grandiose tours, all while being hugged and pulled by their solider children.

“This is where the survey corps lives?” you asked. Armin nodded ambitiously, a smile curved wide on his mouth. “We move around sometimes depending on where we’re being deployed, but this is where we usually are.”

“It’s huge!” you awe. The castle seemed ancient. Every turn had a piece of character that felt ageless and wiser beyond even your own years. Thought vast, the castle was well kept. You couldn’t find a single cobweb, even if you wanted to.

“Tell me about it,” Eren groaned as he touched his forehead. “It’s a real bitch to clean.”

You looked at the boy in shock, your mouth open. “Why, Eren, where have you heard such language?”

Eren looked to Armin for help as he floundered for an answer. He couldn’t quite form one, so his mouth contorted uneasily. “I-Well I mean...I...I’m sorry.”

You playfully told him you’d allow it this once.

You felt so happy to see the two boys grown and healthy. Armin’s soft hands had doubled in size. He once had such chubby, little hands that gripped your finger tightly for comfort. Always sticky, even one thumb tucked in his mouth.

Though his face was the same, he looked so different in every other aspect. But, this thought was comforted by the matter of Armin being the same in personality as he has always been. He still wore the little timid smile of someone bursting to the seams with words he wants to share. He always has something interesting on his mind. His intelligence had even taken you aback when he was a child. He certainly didn’t get that from you.

You figured it was a trait inherited by his birth mother or his biological grandfather. Truthfully, those are the only relatives of his that you know. After adopting him, you tried to dig up more information about his family. You would have liked for him to have the answers to the questions he’d one day ask.

“Walk faster,” Eren said in an urgent voice.

“Oh, God,” Armin said under his breath. “Let’s go back that way.”

The two young boys-young men- were now trying to steer you in a jarring direction. “What’s wrong?” you asked, starting to pull your arms away from them.

“Mom, he’ll see us!” Armin urged you in a loud whisper, attempting to push you into walking.

“It’s too late, he’s coming,” Eren said in a stiff voice. “We can’t-He’s looking right at me. He’s looking right at me!”

“Who’s looking at who?” you asked desperately trying to understand.

“At ease, cadets,” a smooth voice said. It came from the figure you finally spotted striding towards you, encased in a not so tall, but lean figure. “I presume this is Mrs. Arlert?”

The words struck you in the chest. Armin’s face became screwed and red as he looked down at his feet. “That’s not her name, captain,” Armin quickly said. “But yes, she is my mother. Y/n L/n.”

You didn’t let the hurt bleed into your expression. “I am Armin’s mother. It’s wonderful to meet you. What’s your name?”

“Levi Ackerman, ma’am,” the man said, holding out a hand to shake yours. You realized why the boys had wanted to run away. The famed captain Ackerman was mentioned in plenty of your letters from all three of the children, even Mikasa’s. Though Mikasa mentioned him only when she asked for favors for you, namely ancestry research. She wanted to know if she could be related to the man at all, since she’d never met any other person with the name. While your efforts proved weak, she’d appreciated the attempt.

Meanwhile, Eren and Armin mostly wrote about the man to complain. He was mean, you’d heard. Stern and, as Eren put it, “A major jerk.”

The captain Ackerman doesn’t leave me side; ever. I’d say he’s obsessed with me, but I know it’s because he doesn’t trust me. My power is one that has to be heavily monitored. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish that, at least, my supervisor could be someone nicer. Someone taller, at least, so I don’t have to look down all the time. It’s strange to be chewed out by someone two heads shorter. Note, auntie, this is an estimate.

You shook the captain’s calloused hand. It was a stark difference from the curtseying and bowing from when you were among the society in the interior. The thought of a woman shaking a man’s hand without wearing a glove was ghastly; it was intimate. This part of etiquette was so deeply engrained in your mind that you blushed at the feeling of the captain’s skin against yours.

It was enough to keep you from thinking about Armin.

You’d given him the information about his true name just in case he ever wanted, or needed, to use it. You didn’t expect him to ever go by it. It did hurt, though, to think of your boy being Armin Alert, and not Armin L/n.

“I can easily see where Armin gets his grace,” the captain said in a smooth, deep voice, looking almost proudly to Armin.

Eren looked shocked at your left side, and even Armin’s mouth fell agape. “Your son is quite the tactician,” the captain continued.

You chuckle. “He certainly is. Armin’s been impressing me with his brain since he was a baby.”

Armin laughed nervously. “Mother, we don’t need to share that,” he said in a shy voice. You couldn’t help but continue to gush. You rarely bragged about your child, mostly because your neighbors at home had lost their children and it was a sore subject to speak of.

“Well, captain, I’ve heard so much about you,” you said, offering the man a warm smile. He was awfully handsome with his dark hair that grazed the edges of his jaw.

“If I had realized I’d meet the beautiful famed mother, I would have dressed for the occasion,” Levi said with a remarkably steady voice. You felt your cheeks rush with warmth while Eren forced a loud, awkward cough. It sounded as though he was hacking up a piece of his lung. “We’d better get aunt Y/n to her room, ey Armin?”

“Yeah,” Armin said in a short voice. “I mean yes! Yes, yes, we-yes. She’s tired.”

“She’s exhausted,” Eren added, holding his hands over your shoulders and massaging them for good measure. You raised your eyebrows.

“She’s also so hungry,” Armin added loudly. “She’s starving.”

“There’s a buffet going in the mess hall until mid noon,” Levi suggested. “And then tomorrow there will be a large breakfast party.”

You looked at your son with a teasing look of shame. “Why, you boys never mentioned a party. I would have brought my good dress.”

“As if you’d need a good dress,” Armin teased. “We can go out to town. There’s going to be available transportation all day for your visit. It’s very exciting. I’ve even been dismissed from my chores!”

Eren sent a small glare to the captain. “I wasn’t dismissed from my chores,” he grumbled.

“Unfortunately, Jager, you’re one of my favorite cadets. I just can’t spend a minute without you,” the captain said humorously. It made you laugh, to Eren’s horror. “I hope to be seeing you again during your stay, Missus L/n.”

“Oh, it’s just Miss, captain. I am widowed.”

Armin took a pause in his breath. “...Widowed?”

You realized then that you slipped, too. “Unmarried, I meant,” you corrected yourself, albeit too late.

You could see that even Levi knew the well intended flirting was over. Clearly you and your son had things to talk about, and soon. The matter of the surname would likely not compare to Armin’s questions, especially considering that you never spoke of your old life, or your family (this very well may be the reason Armin chose to use his other name in the first place).

“It was a pleasure, Miss,” the captain said before taking a small bow and walking away. You didn’t have time to notice that the bow was not common for people beyond the interior. “I’m going to go meet Connie’s family,” Eren said calmly, though you felt is was more directed to Armin than you.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Eren,” you softly bid the boy as he prepared to walk away, leaving his best friend to the awkwardness that would ensue.

You looked up at your son with half a smile; he looked uncomfortable. Your boy was doing that thing he did when he was too afraid to say or admit something--he rubbed his palms together nervously, as if he were trying to start a fire. “I’m not angry with you,” you told him before you said anything else. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you added.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Armin explained, sounding shaky as he averted his eyes to the floor. “You haven’t told me anything about your family. Your life couldn’t have started only when I was adopted. I just-I just want to know my history.”

You took a breath. “My days living in the Interior were not something I enjoyed. It was a vastly different lifestyle that I did not enjoy, and likely couldn’t ever enjoy again. Yes. I was married. To a man also called Armin. The marriage was arranged, and he and I held no romantic feelings for one another.”

“Did you have children with him?” Armin asked, his voice quiet.

“None, my love,” you assured him, wishing you could just stroke his hair and cuddle him tight like you did during his infancy. “I am so sorry that I haven’t...That I have failed to be more forthright with you.”

Armin failed so say anything. He stood motionless. “May you please not flirt with Captain Ackerman again?” he finally said, looking exasperated.

Your eyes widened. “O-Oh. I’m so so sorry, honey, I just-You-Of course. I swear to not flirt with anyone. Although, I can’t say that I started that. Rather, you should tell the captain not to flirt with your mother again.”

Armin went beet red in the cheeks. “You can’t just tell the captain what and what not to do, mother,” he said in a low and eerie voice; it was as if someone had made such a mistake before, and Armin had witnessed the consequences first hand.

“Armin,” you said quietly.

“I mean it, mother, he once kicked Eren in the face!” Armin went on to exclaim.

“My dear, I could care less about the captain,” you tell your son firmly. “I admit that I was surprised to hear that you use your biologicals name. And for a split second, it did hurt. But, you are your own person. You have been through things grown men haven’t seen. I am so proud of you. No matter what name you go by, you will always be my dear son. I will always love you with all my heart.”

Armin’s eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth turned into a dimpled smile. “I love you, too, mother,” he said. He brought you close for a hug. He kissed the top of your head as you had always done to him during his youth.

Some things were bound to never change.

Armin would always be your intelligent, kind hearted, good tempered son. When he walked, you could only see his toddling down the hallways of your old home. When he laughed, it reminded you of his gasping giggles as he was fondly amused by something some insignificant.

Armin linked his arm with yours one more time. “Let’s get to your room, now,” he said with a happy grin.

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clouditae · 3 years

Text

First Love | 19

Word: 3.9k

Beta reader: jinned

happy birthday to yoongi

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You lie in bed staring up at the ceiling as the tips of your fingers brush along your lips. You can’t stop the smile growing as you remember the kiss. How he brought his lips to yours, taking you by surprise for a moment before your eyes flutter to a close and feel his lips move along yours. It fits perfectly with yours; soft, warm and sending butterflies in your stomach. You felt the fireworks and the rapid beating of your heart—it’s completely different from Hanbin. You toss to your side, burying your face in your hands as you feel the blush creep along your cheeks. You love him. You told him confidently that day and you have no regrets.

So what does that mean for the two of you? Are you a couple? You thought the same thing with Hanbin, but it wasn’t until he asked you to be his girlfriend that you learned you two were just dating for a few weeks. Ari even told you that everyone starts dating to test the waters before they decide if they want to be official or not. So, you’re not a couple with Yoongi. Unless he has a different view on what official means and that kiss makes you a couple? But it also might not be that. Maybe it’ll only be a kiss and that’s it. You’ll never know what it’s like to date him and you’ll be alone the rest of your school year and find some old dude to be your lover because you’ve only loved Yoongi since then.

“Oh my God I’m scaring myself,” you mutter to yourself, sitting up. You have to talk to him. You have to ask him if what happened that day means something more to him like it does for you. Climbing out of bed, you slip on your shoes and step up to your door, hand outstretched towards the handle. But you can't bring yourself to grasp it. Your hand idles, thoughts fighting against each other before you’re back in bed. “I’m not going. I’ll wait it out.” You’re under your cover, hiding from reality.

So much for thinking you’re a new person with so much confidence.

“You’re such a wimp.”

“I am not!” you defend, but you know she’s right. Ari is one hundred percent right today, but you don’t want to admit it out loud.

“Yes you are. Now grow a pair of bigger boobs and go ask him!” She shoves you towards the door, but her push is barely strong enough to nudge you.

It’s been almost a week since you had your kiss with Yoongi, and your last talk with him, too. He’s been unreachable—always at school or too busy to even give Hoseok the time of day. You’re thinking it’s because he has an important assignment coming up, but then you’re also thinking he’s having second thoughts about the kiss. He never said anything to you that day after the kiss. He told you he needed to focus on his work and you left. Nothing was said. Nothing is ever said when it comes to him.

Why do you like him again?

“I’ll do it later,” you whine, stomping your feet like a child as you climb into bed instead.

You can see her staring daggers at you as she stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. You can see she’s thinking of something, but you don’t know what. Finally, she says, “You have a week to talk to him. If you don’t, I’ll go over there and ask him myself.” You can’t help but open your mouth in shock. Did she really just— “Got it?” she says, rather than asks. Groaning, you toss your blanket off you and slide off your bed, grabbing your backpack on your desk chair and slip on your shoes. “Where are you going?” she asks as you turn the handle to open the door.

“To study on campus,” you half yell, opening the door, heading out of the room.

You're about halfway down the hall when you hear your dorm room close and open again with Ari yelling, "You better not forget what I said!"

No words are said from you as you push the side door open and head down the flight of stairs. You almost trip from the frustration Ari gave you, but you catch yourself and take careful strides down the rest of the steps. No one is really outside today—no one is heading towards the bus stop to take the fifteen minute drive towards campus. Maybe you'll have time to calm down in the shuttle and prepare yourself for a test that's weeks away.

You just needed to get out of the room and away from Ari's unnecessary glares. Reaching the sidewalk, the shuttle has just pulled to a stop. It seems like you'll have to wait fifteen or thirty minutes before the vehicle will take you to the campus. As the doors open, a few people exit the large, white bus—one of them being Yoongi who notices you immediately. You can feel your heartbeat quicken, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in an instant. You don't understand how he can cause such chaos within you, but he does it every time you see him. You can imagine the kiss so clearly. His soft lips brushing along yours, thumbs running across your skin leaving a hot trail behind.

He's looking at you expectantly as the rest of the passengers leave along with the driver towards the buildings. It's not as obvious for you as it is for him, but you realize your mouth is open as if you're going to say something. Your body betrays you rather quickly before your brain can even comprehend what you're doing. Yet, he continues to wait there for a few more seconds before he turns his attention ahead of him and he starts towards his room.

"Um," you begin, seeing him stop in your peripheral, "I was wondering..." Wow you're struggling. Where did all that confidence you had when he kissed you go? Where did the ‘don't think just do’ motto go? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to face him. "What are we exactly." Okay. You said it. Now the ball is in his court.

He's staring at you with a look you can never read, eyes blankly staring and mouth set tightly. Is what you thought about earlier really true? Was it just testing out the waters? Does he not like you? Why are you always right?

"What do you want us to be?" he asks.

You blink once. Twice. Just trying to comprehend what he just said and double checking with yourself to make sure what you heard is right. "What?" you ask, not wanting to answer just in case you did hear wrong.

He takes several steps towards you until he's a few inches away, his cedar wood cologne invading your senses as he repeats himself, his warm, minty breath fanning your face, "What do you want us to be?"

Okay he’s close. He’s super close. You can see the flecks of light brown swimming in his darker brown colored eyes. Taking in a deep breath, you answer, “I want to be more than what we are.” You said it. You did it—oh God you said it. What’s he going to say?

“Friends?” is his response to your statement.

Is he testing you? Is that what he thinks you mean? You shake your head nevertheless. “More than friends,” you mumble, feeling smaller than you did when you first opened your mouth.

He watches you. Searching for something you don’t know of. You can’t help but squirm, eyes shooting down to his black shirt as he looks at you for a moment. Finally, he answers, “Okay.” Your gaze is back to his again, shock clearly visible on your face. “If that’s what you want,” he adds.

“Is that what you want?” you ask him.

He hums in response before he slowly leans in. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him get closer and closer before you close your eyes and wait. You’re going to kiss him again. You’re going to feel his warm, soft lips against your own— “The bus is coming,” he mumbles, and your eyes shoot open, head quickly turning to look behind you. The bus has its left blinker on as it slowly gets onto the road. You’re quickly running past him, never saying your ‘goodbyes’ as you run as fast as you can to the stop before the bus drives past it. To your luck, you make it before the bus does. As quickly as possible, you dig through your backpack for your bus pass as the bus driver notices you and pulls over and comes to a stop in front of you.

The doors open and you smile gratefully as you step onto the vehicle. “Hello,” you tell him, taking in a deep breath after running the short distance suddenly. He greets you as you press your card to the scanner, hearing the satisfied beep, and make your way down the aisle and take the window seat just in front of the second door at the center of the bus. You’re putting your card back into your backpack when you hear the scanner go off, indicating that another person barely made it. The bus jerks forward as you zip your backpack up and someone sits next to you.

You look at the figure in surprise and realize it’s Yoongi. He settles into his seat, eyes forward as the bus skips the second stop, turning right onto the first cross. "Let's go on a date," he says, finally turning his attention on you. He looks so calm when he says it while it's most likely clear that you're in complete shock. "What do you have to do today?" he asks.

"I...um"—you swallow the lump in your throat—"I'm going to fill in my study guide for my test in a few weeks," you answer, hiding your hands under your backpack to clutch the straps tightly. Your heart is racing so hard right now.

"Let's go on a date after."

"I don't know how long it'll take for me to finish..."

"I'll wait," he replies as he looks ahead, seemingly not wanting to hear any more excuses.

For the rest of the ride you're lost in your thoughts on the entire scenario that played out within the last ten minutes. You try to hide the smile playing on your face, so you look out the window. The ride towards school is a quick one, only one stop was made before it comes to a stop at the final destination on campus and you follow Yoongi off the bus, walking out the door behind you.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your excitement as you cross the small road and head towards the library entrance. The two of you are walking side by side down the pathway until you finally reach the building entrance. The outdoor seating is empty as Yoongi opens the glass door for you to enter first. You shyly thank him and enter inside. Pressing your hand to your chest, you feel the beating of your heart as if Yoongi being a gentleman is foreign to you. He’s done it before, but now it’s real in a sense. It’s not practice for you like it was before—it’s genuine. Yoongi is back at your side, and reaching the elevator lobby, you enter the stairwell and head down the stairs to the lower level study area.

Yoongi follows in tow, walking quietly as the two of you enter the rather empty room and you take the table under the skylight where the sun shines through the clouds and trees. Taking a seat, you try your best to hide the blush creeping when Yoongi sits next to you. And so, you try your best to focus on your study guide while Yoongi messes with his phone.

It's been a few hours when you finally finish answering all the questions. You put the guide away in your notebook, close it as well as your textbook and finally turn to Yoongi. He has one hand outstretched before him while the other is tucked under his head as he sleeps. You're lost in awe as you admire his beauty. He looks so peaceful; lips slightly parted, the tips of his jet black hair lie along his eyelids, and you can faintly see his back rise and fall with each breath he takes.

Your heart swells and you can't help but raise a hand and let your fingers brush the strands of his hair away from his eyes. His hair is softer than you thought it would be. Your hand lingers in his hair, brushing the strands away further back from his face before his eyes slowly open. Your hand is immediately back at your side, the color to your cheeks turning pink as you try and pretend you’re just packing up rather than staring at him for a few minutes.

From your peripheral you can see Yoongi slowly sit up, stretching his arms before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Are you done?” he asks, voice croaky and gravelly.

“Y-yeah.” You stutter, packing everything into your backpack. You’re clearly not looking calm with a few papers falling from the stack as you’re trying to put it in your binder, or your zipper getting stuck when you try to open your backpack, or even your hair continuously falling into your face no matter how many times you push it back, but either he doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to. “Uh.” You clear your throat. “Did you still want to…”

“You hungry?” he asks, saving you the struggle of trying to finish your sentence. You hum in response, letting out a quiet breath. It’s hard to play off like you’re not internally panicking. He rises to his feet, and you do the same, holding your bag in one hand. “Let’s go eat,” he voices, pushing his chair in and waits for you to follow before the two of you head upstairs.

As you step out into the crisp, Saturday afternoon air, the once blue sky is gone and replaced with gray clouds. You slip your arms through the straps of your backpack as you put it on, attention turning to Yoongi as he tells you, “Let’s have sushi.” You agree, already imagining the taste of the rolls you’re going to consume as the two of you head in the direction of the food court. Yoongi walks alongside you, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence. It’s something you’re not used to in all honesty. He usually walks ahead when the two of you go somewhere together, and the rest of the time you’re trying your best to keep up. Now, however, he’s keeping at your pace and it makes your chest flutter and a smile trying desperately to appear on your face. You’ve never felt so happy and nervous at the same time.

Reaching the food court, you see a few people sitting scattered at the tables working on their assignments or chatting with their friends. You follow Yoongi towards the Japanese stand where the line is empty. When you reach the register, the man smiles and asks, “What would you like to order?” Yoongi says his order then looks towards you. After a few blinks of confusion, you realize he wants you to add your order in as well. Telling the man your order, he totals up and takes Yoongi’s card who had it out already before you could even dig in your backpack for yours.

You find a table at the corner of the building, isolated from everyone else. You take a seat against the wall while he takes the chair across from you. “You’re nervous,” he comments after a few seconds of silence. You open your mouth to answer, yet nothing is said. You close your mouth and look away in embarrassment. You finally have him, but you can’t help but feel like you don’t. That this could all be a dream. “Are you having second thoughts?”

You shake your head, suddenly all the words spilling, “I want to be with you. I just never expected for it to happen and I’m just…a mess.”

He watches you for a second before saying, “Okay.” His name is called and he leaves to retrieve your food.

While the two of you eat, no words were really said. You can’t think of anything to say, and Yoongi seems to be distracted with his food. It takes about halfway being done with your plate that he finally strikes up a conversation. Sadly it’s about your summer, so you had to do a lot of dodging when it came to Hanbin. Would he get jealous? Angry? Will he ask what happened between the two of you? You’re not sure, but you’re not going to find out right now.

During his summer, Yoongi tells you he spent most of his time working at his shop, mastering his producing skills, and hanging out with Hoseok when they’re both free. “A simple summer,” he explains, placing a roll in his mouth.

When the two of you finish, you feel satisfied and happier to have spent a calming date with Yoongi. You remember the last time he took you out on one—well a practice one, but the two of you argued and the whole date was ruined. This one’s real, and so much better than any date you’ve been on. Throwing your box in the trash, you head out the building only to be met with heavy rain. You stand under the awning with the rain pouring and the campus empty as far as the eye can see. Yoongi sighs, “Guess we’re running.” Turning to look at him, he does the same before his hand grabs yours and pulls you out from under the awning, the two of you running.

You cut through the Psychology building, getting a bit of protection from the rain before you’re running along the road towards the bus stop. You try your best to shield your eyes from the rain, but nothing you do helps, so you rely on Yoongi to lead the way. Your legs are burning by the time you reach the bus stop, the two of you hiding under the bus shelter with heavy breaths. Looking around you notice that no one is around. You’re guessing everyone left before the rain hit while you were oblivious to the possibility of it coming. You should have brought an umbrella or—

Yoongi cups your cheeks softly, bringing your attention to him. Looking at him you take in his features. The tips of his hair stick to his forehead, drops of water fall from it, his mouth slightly parted as his pants become lesser. No matter how he looks, he will always take your breath away.

“I want to know that when I wake up tomorrow, I can see you and hold you without thinking this is a dream. I want to be more than friends, too.”

You’d think you would have so much to say from his confession, but nothing comes to mind. So, you repeat what he said hours ago when you told him what you wanted, “Okay.” You’re surprised, and it may be evident on your face as you watch his eyes dart from side to side as if he’s searching for something you don’t know. You try your best to let him know that you want this, that you want to be with him more than anything, and you can only hope it gets through to him. It seems like it does as his eyes stop searching and he’s looking at you with a calm, confident look as he leans in, eyes closing and his lips gently press to yours.

Your eyes come to a close as you kiss him back, feeling that unfamiliar, yet wonderful sensation you felt when he kissed you the first time—the fireworks, the dozens of butterflies swarming your stomach, and your heart racing faster than when Hanbin kissed you for the first time. Warmth over takes the cold as your lips brush along with familiarity, as if the two of you kissed a thousand times before. You want to enjoy the kiss for as long as you can, but he pulls back lightly, his warm breath blanketing your lips. Opening your eyes, you can see his soft gaze staring at you for a brief second before he kisses you one more time as the sound of a vehicle comes to a stop in front of you.

You feel like you’re on cloud nine, like nothing in this world could break you down right now. The feeling of his kiss lingers on your lips, and you want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him again. You just want to be lost in his lips.

As the two of you separate from one another, the shuttle doors open and the two of you quickly get in. Taking a seat at the back, you sit next to the window and Yoongi beside you, taking your hand in his as he settles further into his seat and closes his eyes.

You’ve never enjoyed a bus ride as much as you do right now, feeling his thumb brush along your skin as the driver comes and goes at the next two stops, no one else enters the shuttle. The rain continues to pour from outside, creating small puddles on certain parts of the street with cars zooming over them and creating a splash. Music is playing over the speaker, a faint soothing song against the overpowering rain and cars zooming by.

A while later the shuttle comes to a stop in front of the entrance to your dorm building, Yoongi’s eyes open and he gets up from his seat, your hand still in his as he leads you out of the vehicle. You thank the driver before the two of you are running across the parking lot and up the flight of stairs to the second floor door. You hide from the rain as Yoongi fishes out from his pocket his ID and presses it to the scanner. A beep is heard and he opens the door, letting you enter first.

Walking down the hallway, you stop at your door, turning to Yoongi. He tucks your hair back behind your ear as he instructs, “Go get warm before you catch a cold.” You nod. “I’ll see you later.”

As he turns to enter his room you grab his hand. He turns back around. “We’re a couple,” you say, your statement not sounding like a question like you wanted. He nods in response. “You’re my boyfriend,” you mutter, nervous for his answer.

He chuckles, a smile you’ve never seen before appearing on his face. You forget how to breathe as you stare in awe at his simple yet bright smile. “I am.” He steps forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “Go inside,” he tells you, and you let his hand go and do as instructed. Pressing your ID to the scanner, he whispers, “Goodnight.” and you enter your room, the biggest smile on your face with cheeks as flushed as they can be.

Ari drops everything she’s doing and listens to you as you tell her about the greatest date of your life.

#bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanuniversity #btsgoldnet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi au

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fandom-strumpet · 3 years

Text

Game Night Confession- Part 1

Summary: It’s Game Night at the Salvatore boarding house and after a few drinks and games they start the game 7 Minutes in Heaven. It’s not what you think, the bottle lands on Elena and Y/N.

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Word Count: 1,769

It’s Game Night at the Salvatore boarding house, the crew is there, including Rebekah. She had been on her best behavior lately so was ‘allowed’ to come but she in reality she crashed the party and no one had the energy to make her leave. Damon went down to the cellar and brought out one of his bourbon’s and started pouring it into glasses with ice. The night started off with Twister but the more you all drank, the more difficult it became and you all agreed to move onto the next game. Caroline pulled out Cards Against Humanity and finally the game ended when Stefan won with 6 black cards.

“I know what game to play next!” Rebekah squealed, “7 Minutes in Heaven!”

Damon groaned and tossed his head back to take a shot but it was obvious he was interested as well.

Elena spins first, with a hopeful look that it might land on Stefan. Unfortunately, the bottle landed on you.

“Ooh” Rebekah squirms in excitement.

You give a small huff. Elena shares the ‘Oh well.’ look with you as you both head to the closet.

Hollering back you say, “Remember the rules! No vamp hearing to listen in!”

A chorus of yes’ and agreement sound back. Shutting the heavy oak door with a thud, Elena turns and clicks the little light bulb on. You and Elena both stood awkwardly in silence for a moment.

Whispering, you ask Elena, “How about we play a different version of the game?”

“What would that be?” Elena tilted her head and squinted curiously.

“We both tell each other a deep and dark secret. We’ll be sworn to secrecy-”

“What happens in the closet, stays in the closet.” Elena finishes with a coy smile. “Alright, I’ll go first,” she takes a deep breath in, “I kissed Katherine.”

Your jaw drops open and you fail to come up with an immediate response resulting in an awkward silence.

Elena speaks fast and continues, “Well, I mean, actually I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me just so she could bite my lip and get some blood.”

“Bu- whu- uh-” You stuttter out.

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell Stefan, it would be too weird... OKAY! Your turn!”

“Um well, okaaay.” You shake your head in disbelief of what you had just heard. Letting out a shaky breath you feel butterflies in your stomach and a warm feeling that wasn’t there a moment ago. Its time someone knows anyway. “My deepest, darkest secret is that-” you pause to bite your lip,”I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Malachai Parker...” Your heart froze, looking into Elena’s eyes for a response.

“You are absolutely crazy!”

“Elena, remember you promised not to tell anyone.”

“Y/N, I promise I won’t tell anyone. But- really? Kai?!”

“I know, I know. It’s eating me up inside though. I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him.” she stated.

“What and let everyone know I’m in love with Senor Psychopath?!” you started to raise your voice.

“Shhhh.” Elena hushed.

You sighed and then felt a cold wash over you. “Besides, he would never like me back.”

“Y/N.” Elena grabbed your shoulders and forced your eyes to meet hers. “Just tell him.”

“ONE MINUTE LADIES!” You could hear Damon snickering.

You shrug off Elena’s grip, “Guess we better make some noise.” You smiled half-heartedly.

“Yep.” Elena grinned, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “Ow! My hair!” she yelled and you stifled a laugh.

You hit your fist against the closet wall in response. “Oooooohhh.” you moan. Elena hits the wall but a little too hard and it sends the coat clothing rod falling. Laughter erupts from the both of you as you fall to the floor in a tangled mess. Stefan opens the closet door and you roll out giggling with messy hair.

“Enjoy your 7 Minutes in Heaven ladies?” Stefan cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

In the Living Room

The great oak door shut but the girls remained quiet. Getting bored, Damon poured himself another drink. Kai strutted into the living room, shaking himself like a wet dog after walking out in the rain.

“Really Kai? This is leather.” Caroline rolled her eyes.

“It’s seen worse Caroline, relax.” Damon scoffed.

“Mmmmm so what do you got to eat?” Kai makes his way to the kitchen rubbing his hands together. He pulls out a bag of pork rinds from under the sink. “Hope you weren’t going to eat these or anything.”

“Nooooo. Go ahead and eat whatever Kai.” Stefan glared.

“Alright then.” Kai plops himself down onto the couch by Rebekah. “So what game are you guys playing?”

“7 Minutes in Heaven.” Rebekah winked.

“Y/N and Elena are in there right now.” Bonnie stated with a chuckle.

“Now I gotta hear this.”

“Kai! No!” Caroline yelled. “There’s no vamp hearing in this game.”

“Well I’m not playing am I?” Kai grinned.

Caroline glared daggers at Kai and then looked to Stefan for help. “He’s got a point Care, he’s not playing so he can technically listen in.”

“You are unbelievable.” she rolled her eyes and fell backwards into the couch. Bonnie grinned, it was always amusing to see Caroline get worked up over the smaller things.

“What are they doing?” Damon asked lazily, “It’s too quiet.”

“They’re doing confessions.” Kai pursed his lips.

“Kai, you can’t tell us what they’re saying.”

“Bonnie is right.” Caroline nodded with raised eyebrows.

“I for one would love to know though Kai.” Damon patted Kai on the back. Kai delivered a devilish smile.

“Elena just confessed something juicy but it isn’t a surprise to me. Now for Y/N...” Kai froze. The color drained from his face upon hearing you say, “I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Malachai Parker.” He stood up fast and almost bolted out of the house. The front door slammed shut at his exit.

“Well he disappeared fast.” Rebekah raised her eyebrows and Damon shrugged, looking back down into his glass.

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

The next day after classes, you met up with Elena at The Grill. The thud of a backpack makes you look up from your notebook.

“Hey!”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Elena smiled and sat down across from you.

“Oh, you know. It’s going. I’m so glad we could meet up for food and studying though. It was a great idea, thanks Elena.”

Elena clears her throat and sneaks a glance to the door. “No problem, Y/N. Anything to help a friend.”

“First though- *you giggled* we need to order drinks and food.”

Elena waved down the new blonde waitress so she could take your order. It didn’t take long for the both of you to decide on what to get. The Grill had the best strawberry lemonades and mozzarella sticks. The door gave it’s usual ding, and it drew your attention out of an age old habit. It was him. Malachai Parker, the most handsome and hot being on the face of the Earth. Your heart skipped a beat involuntarily and Elena didn’t miss it. She looked down into her drink quickly to hide the smirk that appeared on her face. She whirls the straw around in her strawberry lemonade, a drink both of you always got together. It was an all time favorite and the Grill served it the best.

“I- uh- yeah sorry. What were you saying? I lost focus for a second..”

She leaned forward to take a sip before starting. “You know, I’ll never understand how you could love Kai. BUT I will admit that he is a better person when he’s around you. He’s not as ‘psycho Kai’.”

“Elena,” you hissed, “You promised not to say anything to anyone.”

“And I’m not- I’m only talking about it to you. Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about what happened in the closet.”

You sit back and cross your arms in the motion of fine. You nod your head and motion for her to continue.

“I can see it in you too, Y/N. How much you love him, how your heart races and your eyes light up. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before but- you and Kai would actually be really cute as a couple.”

Your heart leapt into your throat when Kai turned slightly to look around and caught your eye. He gave a little smile and wave. Damon turned to see who he was waving to and winked at Elena.

“Hey Damon! Kai! Want to join us?” Elena yelled and you groaned inwardly as the guys stood up to join you in the booth.

“How’s it going ladies?” Damon smiled cheesily.

“Good, me and Y/N were just talking about-”

“Homework.” you interrupted quickly, unsure if she was going to say something to reveal your secret. Elena gave you a smirk and took another sip of her drink. You looked down to see your half-gone lemonade while they talked about something random. It was so hard to focus when the amazing man you wanted to caress and love and hold tight was sitting merely six inches from you and it felt like he was getting closer? No- that’s not possible, just your imagination. Why do I feel so hot all of a sudden? You grabbed your left wrist under the table out of habit to make yourself stop squirming and try to focus. Kai cast his eyes to you every now and then , looking for your reaction to the funny jokes. He was acting like a normal friend. You could act like a normal friend- right?

“You know what, Damon and I actually have a thing to go do downtown-”

“We do?” Elena nudged him hard, “We were supposed to go see some new artwork and stuff. Come on, let’s go!”

As they slid out of the booth, Elena gave you a wink and a small wave to Kai.

“Sooooo um, hi.”

“Hey.” His smile was so enchanting it was hard to keep yourself focused on something other than his lips. He turned away from you and started digging into the mozzarella sticks and sauce. You always thought it was so cute and weird how Kai ate. He was something else entirely. You grinned to yourself and started to join him. There was a comfortable silence as you ate, when the sticks were gone he licked his fingers with a pop and you felt your stomach tighten at the sight. Looking down at his drink he muttered, “Irrevocably. That’s a big word.” Then continued to seduce the straw with his tongue until it entered his mouth. @1-800-khaleesii @rome5683 @tawaii

#kai parker fanfiction #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #kai parker

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Persephone Symphony | Night One | Hades

Hey my lovelies, here is the next instalment! It’s pace is a little different-- a little more frantic-- but it fits the storyline so all is good! I wasn’t joking when I said it was a slooooow burn LOL! It’ll be worth it, I promise-- expect a bathtub scene soon. Anyways, enjoy my loves!!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: nightmares, anxiety, cheesy chic flicks

Word count: 5.5k

Previous | Next

Master List

“You don’t even go here!”

He tries not to laugh— he really, really tries. He doesn’t want to laugh at a chick flick. Maybe Nat would have called him toxic for that. She was a badass— strong, intelligent, killer— probably the most like him out of everyone on the team— and even she used to laugh at movies like this on the nights she and Wanda would claim the common room for marathons. She definitely would have called him toxic. Maybe that’s why he lets a few chuckles out. Maybe it’s just because it is funny, though, and because the other deathly intelligent woman next to him is looking at him.

Maybe he just wants her to keep looking at him and if that means watching her movie then so be it.

The couch shifts. It’s only a tiny movement— if he wasn’t so focussed on her he wouldn’t have even noticed it. But he is and he does and he tells himself it’s because this is his job. It’s his job to watch her because he has to keep her safe. Yeah, it’s his job to keep her safe. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that when she had dropped that stupid fucking brush his heart had beat so fast he thought it was going to explode. Nothing to do with the fact that he’s never kicked a door down that quick in his entire life. Nothing to do with the fact that it feels like if he takes his attention off of her for even a second then she’s going to end up with a bullet in her skull—

No. She’s fucking not. End of story.

He swallows hard, the laughter evaporating like smoke in his lungs. He didn’t expect it to last that long anyway. It never does. His eyes flick over her, watching as she pulls her legs under her worn hoodie, her head resting on the arm of the couch. Her eyes are closed and when he holds his breath he can hear hers, soft and slowing alongside her heartbeat.

Some of the tension begins melting away in his shoulders. For four hours he laid there on the floor, jaw and fists clenched so tight he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pry them open again when the time came, listening to the rapid thump, thump, thump of her heart. Four fucking hours. That was worse than the brush— he can stop a guy with a gun but he knows nothing about heart attacks.

It was agony— he hasn’t felt that kind of helplessness before. Helpless knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop her heart because he was definitely the reason it was pounding like a freight train trying to barrel out of her chest. He doesn’t want to scare her— in fact, he’s almost certain he would do anything if it meant she wouldn’t be afraid of him. Because that’s what it was— fear. He could practically smell it. The sharp tang of sweat and something else lingering in the air— something that made the hair on his arms stand on end, his attention laser focussed on the semi-sweet aroma. Normal people can’t smell fear but he can. Dogs can.

He swallows thickly, metal fingers balling so tight he can hear the slight creak of the vibranium curling against his thigh. His eyes dart back to her, praying the sound doesn’t make her flinch like everything else he does seems to do. Thankfully she remains still, her heart continuing to slow steadily. He pauses his breathing again to listen harder, clinging to the rhythm of the air coursing through her lungs.

In, out, pause. In, out, pause.

Like everything else she does, she makes a song of her breaths, finding a melody in the simplest of human routine. This time, though, it’s less mesmerizing. It still drags him into her orbit— he can still feel himself getting lost in this new incarnation of her inescapable softness— but there’s this voice nagging at the back of his mind, nervously tapping at his skull, demanding to be heard. That’s normal, right? She’s supposed to be breathing that slowly? Where is the line drawn between too fast and too slow? As much as he wants to get lost in her music he can’t help but feed into the voice. Fuck. He narrows his eyes, opting to watch the minute rise and fall of her chest instead.

Rise, fall, stop. Rise, fall, stop.

For a moment it works— he can see her breathing so she’s obviously fine— but then she stills and it feels like someone is driving a knife through his lungs. It’s normal— it has to be normal. She’s just asleep. Sure enough she takes another breath, chest rising once more before falling. The same thing happens, she stills, and he waits. Rise, fall, stop. With every cease of movement he feels more and more like sliding closer to her— as if he would be able to change her breathing pattern from sheer will and closeness.

Snap out of it, Bucky— she’s fine!

He’s being irrational— he’s being nitpicky. Since when is he an attention to details kind of guy? It’s his job. There it is again— the reminder. The excuse. He has to keep her safe and making sure she’s breathing normally is definitely part of that. Rise, fall, stop. His fingers— his real fingers— twitch against his other thigh and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to stop his gut from twisting. He has to do something— anything— to get closer to her. Just to make sure. Glancing around the room, his eyes catch on something along the back of the couch— perfect.

He yanks the quilt down as silently as possible, shaking it until it unfolds before scooting closer to her. As Bucky enters her space, cushions heaving under his weight, all he can smell is cherry pie. It almost floors him, the heady sugar and slight tang clinging to the air around her. His lips are dry but he doesn’t poke his tongue out, afraid of syrupy nostalgia he can feel starting to meld against his skin, sinking into the pit of his stomach. It’s futile— he knows it is— avoiding the sweetness won’t make it go away.

He swallows the lump in his throat and it tastes like July in Brooklyn in 1925. It tastes like running through the docks with Steve when the first shipment of fruit reached the shore, hands— both flesh, both warm, both untouched by anything but careless youth— curled around the money his mother had given him. Buy the ones in the back, she would tell him. They’re the sweetest. Finally he can’t take it— how tight his mouth feels— and he runs his tongue along his lips. His mother’s cherry pie used to win awards— now he knows why.

He drops the blanket a little unceremoniously. He isn’t intending for it to fall in a lump into her lap, all bunched up and awkward, but it slips from his fingers before he can catch it. Damn pie. He quickly fixes it, acting with more delicacy, trying to keep from touching her as he drapes the material over her legs. Despite his efforts he brushes her skin a few times, his now calloused and cold fingers meeting her buttery soft thigh, and his chest jolts, heartbeat spiking enough to rid his lungs of any trace of oxygen. He tears his hands away, breathless, face hot, and sinks his head into his free grip. He’s losing it.

“I didn’t mind it.”

At first he thinks he’s imagining it— her sweet, soft voice— the faintest lullaby breaking through the crashing of blood in his eardrums— but then he feels the couch move again and his head is lifting of its own accord, eyes desperate to see that she’s okay. He follows her movements, tiny hands grasping at the quilt, pulling it over the rest of her body. She presses her face against it, eyes remaining shut but clearly alive, and his shoulders drop. See, she’s fine you idiot.

She’s fine but he didn’t hear a word she said. “What.”

He bites back the groan— Really? ‘What’? So you remember her cherry pie but none of the manners she taught you?

If she notices the gruffness in his tone she doesn’t point it out, only yawns and stretches, bringing her body into an even smaller ball. God, he could just reach out and pick her up with one han—

“Doll.” She mumbles, sleep etched across her features, making her already soft words even more gentle. Even more hypnotic. “I didn’t mind it.”

He wasn’t breathless before. Now he knows that. He was something— stunned, shocked, a moron— but not breathless. His lungs didn’t feel like they were filled with helium before— so light that he’s afraid he’s going to float away. He didn’t slam a hand against his chest last time, fingers like jelly as they claw at his heart, searching for something to anchor himself against the madness of his racing mind. She didn’t mind it. It didn’t feel like this— like there’s no air in his throat but that it’s okay because if there’s air in her throat then everything is fine.

Everything will be fine.

She liked it.

He sinks back against the cushion, eyes wide and glued to the girl next to him, barely registering the soft snores that begin fluttering around him. She liked it. Her, the softest, warmest girl that he can remember even being this close to. The softest, warmest girl who smells like his mother’s famous pie. The softest, warmest girl who, in her sleep, pushes her foot closer towards him, resting it against his leg and snoring a touch louder. He’s breathless now— speechless.

But he has to say something.

“Oh.”

Yeah, he’s a moron alright.

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

After the movie finishes Bucky just clicks on the next one. She’s The Man. It’s funnier than the last. Maybe that’s just because the clock now reads four thirty, though, and his legs have started going numb and her cherry pie scent is still lingering in his nose. It’s like a sedative, being this close to the sleeping girl. His bones feel heavier, his eyelids beginning to droop. Every time he blinks the darkness lasts a little longer. He uses the ticks of the ancient clock to keep track.

Tick, tick, tick.

She stopped snoring about an hour ago. He kind of wishes she hadn’t. It was like a reminder— a little ‘it’s okay, I’m breathing’ to keep his nerves from sky rocketing. Now all he can hear is the little puffs of air as they leave her lips. Sometimes they blend into the noise of the TV and he goes still, a chill tingling at the top of his spine as he waits. In, out, pause. Always that damn pause. He debates turning the movie off a few times but stops himself, not wanting to risk her waking up to him staring at her in the dark. He may be out of touch with the times but creepy is timeless and in any time— be it the thirties or now— he would prefer to stay as far away from that category as possible.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

He can feel where her toes still press against his thigh. They’re higher now, closer to his hip, and he can’t bring himself to move away from her. He should. He knows he should. This isn’t part of the job. The way his stomach flip flops like he’s a teenager again when she kneads against him is not in his contract. Neither is the way he wishes it wasn’t just her foot. He clenches his jaw, head sinking back into the back of the couch. Screw Wilson for having a couch that feels like a fucking cloud. He can feel his muscles relaxing, the numbness in his fingers a tell tale sign of the impending sleep. Just a few more seconds.

Tick, tick, tick— god he wants to crawl next to her and fall asleep— tick, tick.

He springs to his feet, eyes open as wide as they can go, shaking his head to clear the thought. Nope— that game is done. That’s the last thing either of them need; for her to wake up, broken leg or wrist or worse, trapped under him because there’s no way that he wouldn’t hurt her if they were sleeping together. He’s too big and she’s too good. Too good for someone like him, too good to be subject to the danger of his tossing and turning.

His restlessness was never dangerous before. Annoying? Yes. Distracting? Definitely. But dangerous? Never. Thinking about it now, though, he can see it— all the little ways she would get hurt being with him but especially the ones that involve them sharing a bed together. Or a couch. He’s destructive and it only makes sense that his sleep habits would be destructive too. His fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots. The sting against his scalp is almost enough to cover the one in his throat.

Now that he’s on his feet he stays on them, shifting his weight between his heels, trying desperately to clear the numbness. He never sits that long. Even back at the compound he never spends more than an hour in the same spot. He wasn’t built for the peace of day to day life. All the sitting and sleeping and lounging. That’s part of being a monster— in his case half man, half mechanical beast. He’s gotten used to being turned off when he’s not needed. Always moving and pushing and fighting until— Benign. Blackness. Nothing. The cold.

Maybe that’s why he can’t relax these days— the warmth. When he used to sleep— when he used to get turned off, he should day— it was freezing. Of course now he knows why— they kept him in a cooler like a piece of meat, always thawing and freezing him. It shouldn’t be a memory that he clings to— he shouldn’t be sleeping with his windows open at night, nothing but a sheet pulled over his hips. He shouldn’t cringe when Stark turns the heat up or when the gym showers are steamy from the person before him. He may be an idiot— a monster— but he’s not stupid. It’s not normal.

He misses being normal.

The supersoldier serum ensures that possibility is gone, though. Maybe one day he’ll get over the shower thing. Maybe he’ll even appreciate the temperature being turned up. It doesn’t really matter either way. Neither of those things will erase his heightened senses. Like how he can still feel where she was pressed against him, the spot on his thigh prickling with the memory of her touch. He knows he'll be able to feel her for the next few hours, engraved into his skin, taunting him. Not being afraid of the fucking hot water won’t rewire his nerve endings. Or his fucking brain which keeps filling with thoughts of the sleeping girl.

Shivering, he pushes himself to the other side of the living room, drawing back the curtain for a quick moment, eyes wandering the empty darkness before letting it drop again. He sinks into the recliner next to the couch, ignoring the way his bones ache in protest. The spot on his thigh is like a magnet, the lingering signature she unknowingly left on him begging to be reunited with her. He scratches at it— he’s not about to subject her to his cold shower, windows open life. She has enough of her own problems.

It’s not long before his eyes are beginning to shut again, the ticking of the clock like a dare, lulling him back into that semi-sweet cherry haze. Just try to stay awake, it taunts, clicking mercilessly as he fights his drooping eyelids. It would go against his entire nature, falling asleep in this armchair. It’s too soft and too warm and he has way too many clothes on but still— something’s different. He doesn’t have to look around to know what it is. His thigh is still buzzing. He doesn’t have to look but he does anyway. In hindsight it’s a good thing that he does—

“No—” his head snaps up, eyes cracking open, heart stopping— “No stop— don’t hurt—”

—because if he hadn’t then he wouldn’t be in front of her in time to catch her body as she bolts upright, springing from the couch with a choked scream, knees crashing into the coffee table and sending her flying straight towards where the glass vase shatters on the carpet.

He’s out of his seat in seconds, heart lodged in his throat as he shoves the coffee table with his boot, diving for her with all the speed he can muster. He winces when he hears the glass crunch further into ground but he can’t bring himself to care— not as his arms curl around around the tiny girl, pulling her into his chest as he twists his body and lands back first against the patch of carpet that is— thankfully— shard free. The thud of the impact echoes through his body, stabilizing only when it reaches the vibranium. He has no idea what the Shuri did to the arm to make it shock absorbent but for once he’s grateful for the hunk metal because at least it’s keeping the impact from jaring her even more. Finally the fuckin’ thing comes in handy.

His head slumps against the carpet for a moment, eyes closing, his chest heaving and veins singing— both from the adrenaline coursing a path through his body and from the way she settles on top of him, thighs pressing against him, hands splayed across his chest. He could get lost in this feeling— hell he can feel himself slipping away right now. Never before has he wanted someone’s hands to touch him so much. Hell, he doesn’t even want his own hands to touch him half the time. But hers? Gods, he wishes they would just dig into his hair already, tug on his shoulders, trace along his jaw and nose and lips. He’ll take anything— any little scrap of her skin on his.

That being said, it takes him longer than he’s willing to admit to push past the all consuming feeling of her pressing against him enough to realize that those very hands— the ones he wants so badly— are clawing at his shoulders. His eyes snap open, hands tightening on her back as she thrashes against him, voice high pitched and terrified.

“No, no, no, no! Don’t— hurt me. He’s gonna’— help me!”

Her hands— now balled into tiny fists— fly out, just barely missing his jaw as he ducks out of the way. They land against his chest instead, weakly pounding against him, and just like that he’s back, pushing off the ground and gently scooping her hands into his. It makes her thrash harder, her eyes squeezed shut, her harsh movements somehow languid and being swallowed by the hoodie. She’s panting, still mumbling, and he narrows his eyes, just barely making out the movement beneath her eyelids— is she still asleep?

“Please no.” It’s not so much of a yell now as it is a strangled whimper— one that hits him so hard he has to slap a hand to the ground to keep from falling over again.

“Hey, c’mon—” he lets her wrists go, hand instead curling around her shoulder, shaking her as delicately as he can given the fact that he’s trying to break her from the nightmare— “you gotta’ wake up, doll.”

Bucky can hear the way he stutters his words. He hasn’t stuttered since the second grade but here he is, fumbling over his sentences, trying to think of something coherent and useful. He’s a soldier for fucks sake— he’s faced worse things than a nightmare— but right now he feels eight years old again and helpless. He’s stuck, shaking her with weak arms, deaf to anything but her name on his tongue, and he’s scared. With every tortured cry that rips from her pink lips he becomes more torn between the kid he once was— the one who thought Brooklyn was so huge and that he was so small— and the man he is now— the one who knows that Brooklyn is nothing but a place and who still feels smaller than ever.

“Mama, no—” this time it’s neither a yell nor a whimper; it’s a full blown sob— one that sinks against his chest where her forehead hits him, a dagger straight to his already broken heart— “don’t go, don’t leave—”

The end of her sob explodes into a scream so loud he flinches, his hold on her tightening for a split second until he feels his fingers digging into her pilant flesh through the hoodie. He eases his grip, chest so tight he feels like he’s going to pass out. Somehow, even through the noise, he can still hear that fucking clock. It sounds like it’s laughing at him now. Tick, tick, tick, you can’t even keep a little girl safe, tick. He wants to curl up— he wants to rip his ears off. It’s too much. His shirt sticks to him, soaked with the hot, wet tears of the trembling girl in his arms and he snaps— he can’t take it anymore.

He shakes her one more time, harder, ignoring the way his muscles scream in protest, like they’re demanding he treat her as gently as possible. “Y/n wake up!”

He doesn’t yell but it’s the loudest he’s spoken since he walked through the door and it feels like he’s swallowing the pieces of the vase he broke. He had to do it. He had to make those sounds stop. He doesn’t like it but he had to. He’s just thankful it works, her eyes snapping open, the scream catching in her throat and dying away. It’s so sudden that his ears ring— not missing her wails but empty without her noise. The silence isn’t worse but it may as well be. There’s no winning for them.

She stops dead, movements ceasing, and too many seconds tick by in which all he can hear is his own panting, laboured and frantic. For too long she sits there, her eyes wide, meeting his gaze but also not. It takes everything in him to keep her at arms length— to not crush her tiny body against him if only to be able to feel her breaths against his skin. To make sure. He can see it— rise, fall, stop. Rise, fall, stop— but it’s not enough. It wasn’t enough before but now it’s really not enough, especially when she’s on his lap looking more dead than alive. Looking as dead as he feels knowing he can’t fight whatever’s going on in her head for her.

Finally, after what feels like another century of agony— one almost as bad as his first century of cryotanks— she blinks.

“Bucky?” Her voice is watery, his name coming out a little distorted— a little raw— but beneath it all he can hear the unyielding softness.

She shifts on his lap, fingers wound so tight in his shirt that he’s not sure if she’s fully aware of what happened yet. They shake wildly, thrumming a drunken beat against his chest. Had it been anyone else— had it been Wilson or Stark or anyone— he would have ripped them off of him. He would have seethed, teeth bared and nostrils flared, seconds away from barking, until they backed off. But it’s not anyone else; it’s her and so instead he sucks in enough air to make his lungs inflate and push his chest closer to her touch.

“Shit, doll, You’re ali— awake. You’re awake.” He breathes, face flushing, neck so hot he can feel every burning inch of his shirt— especially where her hands push the fabric against him.

He resists stuffing his fist in his mouth, hoping how stupid he sounds doesn’t register with her. Of course she’s awake— she's talking to him. She’s talking to him and she’s alive and she— despite the sweat beading along her forehead— still smells like tang and sugar. The SoCal girl still smells like summer in Brooklyn and that’s enough for him to force his hands off her shoulders, reluctantly but with relief cooling his nervous system.

The movement makes her tenses, head sloping down, eyes filling with realization before her neck snaps back up. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

There’s an edge in her voice, her eyes glossing over, hands loosening before dropping completely. Bucky blinks and the next thing he knows she’s pushing off his lap, dragging herself backwards, hands clawing at the carpet now instead of his chest. The cold air rushes over him, detailing every inch of him that had been pinned against her, and suddenly he doesn’t like it so much anymore. Get a grip.

He swallows, speaking around his aching tongue and stinging palms. “Think you had a nightmare or something. You were—” he pushes his hand up and through his hair, not realising until it’s too late that it’s the wrong one. He yanks it back, teeth clenching when some strands rip out with his metal fingers— “you were talking in your sleep and then you stood up. There was a vase—” why is this so hard to say? Just fucking spit it out— “and you were about to fall and I just— it was all so fast it was the only thing I could think to do.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes for the entirety of his spiel— he can’t— but he can feel her stare burning into the top of his head. That scent— that semi-sweet musk— fills the space between them and he digs his fingers into his thighs. He knows that, were it not for the same damn serum making it possible to smell her right now, he would have bruises on his legs. The thought doesn’t mean anything to him— it doesn’t make him let up. She’s afraid. Again. All because he couldn’t let her go soon enough. God damnit Bucky.

He listens as she shuffles— as she sniffles— and he’s never hated himself more. Because that’s what it is— he hates himself. He hates himself for shaking her so roughly in his haste. He hates himself for agreeing to take this job thinking he could handle it. For not demanding Wilson take the job. For enjoying bacon on grilled cheese and for wondering what Pasedena is like and for how fucking badly he wants to truly rememeber what his mother’s pie tastes like.

He hates himself for— despite every rational part of him screaming at him not to— closing the space between him and the crying girl and pulling her back into his arms. Call him a dog— call it the instincts of a useless, dangerous mutt— but to him her soft cries sound more like his name than anything he’s ever heard. They sound like an order. Come, dog. If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes is good at it’s following orders. For better or for worse.

This time, instead of pushing him away, she throws her arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

Her quivering voice catches him off guard but not as much as her apology does. What? She sinks her face into his neck, shoulders shaking against his, hoodie covered hands scraping against his back. Nevermind— he’s not about to fuck this up. He can feel the stretch of her spine as she struggles to keep her arms around his torso, her knees wobbling slightly as they hold her up, and he instantly slouches, curling forward. In turn she crawls forward even further, legs bumping messily into his. There’s no way this is happening.

He tests the water, running his fingers up her back, pressing so lightly that he can barely feel the ridges of her bones. “Don’t be.”

They stay like that in silence for more tick, tick, ticks than he can count, neither of them speaking. Eventually her shoulders stop shaking and her little sobs turn into little hiccups before finally dissipating into little huffs of air, warm and sweet and still against his neck. At one point he moves, rolling off his shins and kicking his legs out in front of him. It forces her to move too and at first he thinks she’s going to pull away but all she does is turn, scrunching her own legs up to her chest and settling between his knees, her side resting against his front. It isn’t until the first dregs of dawn cut through the miniscule crack in the green curtain that she speaks, voice stiff and fingers pulling at the collar of her hoodie.

“What, erm, what did I say?” She pauses before sheepishly adding— “In my sleep, I mean.”

Cue the sweet scent of her fear again. He peers down at her, watching as she tugs her lip between her teeth, biting down until he can smell more copper than fruit. The hair on the back of his neck raises, stomach sinking. Blood. Keeping his hand steady where it rests on her ankle is hard. It isn’t what he wants to do but he doesn’t want to scare her— well, scare her more.

“I couldn’t tell you,” he lies, voice tighter than he would like, shrugging his shoulders instead of reaching over and running his thumb over her lip. “It was too quiet.”

Her shoulders drop and— when she releases her lip, slightly tinted crimson but overall okay— so do his. She nods but doesn’t say anything and he taps her ankle once. He hopes that to her it reads something like you’re too wonderful to be hurting yourself. Even if it doesn't, that's fine. Even if all she does is feel it and know that he’s there, watching her back, then it doesn’t really matter. That’s good enough for him.

Still, there’s that feeling in his chest again— that nagging, nitpicky feeling. It makes the words dance on his tongue, stomp against his teeth. Just ask, they goad. We know you want to ask. His eyes flick to the clock. Six-thirty in the morning. He uses it— his glaring lack of sleep— as an excuse to open his mouth.

“Do you wanna’ talk about it?” it’s a risk— pressing the matter of her nightmare when it’s clearly a touchy subject— but he has to ask.

He has to make sure she’s okay.

It’s his job.

She shakes her head, closing her eyes. He watches as her throat bobs, fingers slipping into the neck of her hoodie. “Not right now.”

He nods— he can live with that answer. He knows what it’s like to not want to talk about things. To not want to talk about nightmares. He gets wanting to bury it. It’s what he does best. Showers, jogging, fighting. Ignoring his problems is his most fluent language— and he knows three. The only problem is that now his mouth is open and it’s refusing to close— to stop talking— and he says the only thing his worried, tired brain can think of.

“Do you think you wanna’ go back to sleep or—”

“No—” she chokes out, voice rushed and cracking and cutting off the rest of his stupid thought. The regret bubbles like tar in his chest— he’s such an idiot— “please no I can’t.”

She’s sitting up now, ankle falling from his grasp as she wraps her arms around her knees. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her jaw is just barely craning back and forth, her lips moving but nothing coming out. This time he wastes no tick, tick, ticks scooting closer to her, metal hand on her back, brushing up and down, flesh hand finding the warm spot on her leg and reclaiming it. She hiccups again and he holds her a fraction tighter, wondering just how common her nightmares are.

“Hey, s’alright, don’t worry. I’m not going to make you sleep or anything. That was, ah—” damnit Barnes don’t start rambling now just fix it— “yeah no, we’ll figure something else out.”

It seems to work, she settles quicker than all the times before, but it doesn’t keep his mind from continuing to think about her. From worrying about her. Do the nightmares happen often or only sometimes?

Her body relaxes, arm sagging against his once more as she nods. “Thanks.”

Who holds her when she wakes up screaming?

He winces. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Does anyone hold her or does she just wake up alone, terrified and—

“I want to. Thank you, Bucky.”

He feels like he’s going to explode— like he’s going to say something else that he’ll regret. He has to change the subject—

“You hungry, doll?”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

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