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trentsixtysix · 1 year

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Wasted Times

Summary: You'd never get used to the thought of Trent with someone new, taking matters into your own hands as you'd ensure no matter who he was with, he'd remain yours.

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex, Toxic Trent, Toxic Reader, insufferable reader.

Author's Note: Sorry I've not posted in a while; like my other fics this won't appeal to everyone, but it's short so I thought I'd clear it from my drafts x

Word Count: 3.7k

Angst

Trent's POV

This was the best day of his life.

It was day he got to make you his, put a ring on your finger, take his last name, he'd proudly show you off even more than he already did. He couldn't quite contain his excitement seeing just a slither of your gorgeous white gown whilst you walked down the aisle to him, but he'd been so patient all this time that he could manage a few more moments before he saw his bride properly face to face.

You were his soulmate after all, and he'd dreamt about this day all those years ago when you first made it official. No matter how many girls there were before you, there was no doubt in his mind you were the one for him.

Nerves took over his body as he anticipated your arrival, taking your hand in his as you finally met in front of everyone - hundreds of gasps and awes as they were just as delighted to see the happy couple marry on this day.

There was visibly a huge grin painted on his face as the Priest went over their vows, and it wasn't until he heard her name he froze, eyes widening as he looked up to see the woman in front of him.

She wasn't you.

She looked so innocent, joy plastered all over her as her big shiny eyes were lost in his. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, the happiest day of his life too, yet regret suddenly seemed to cruelly creep up on him, and he found himself unable to escape the repeated thoughts of doubt filling his head.

He was faced with the harsh reality he was marrying someone else, he didn't have the courage to come clean about his infidelities to her, and stupidly said his vows and an 'I do' out of fear, out of complete disregard for the woman he actually loved who was stood with the rest of their families watching him make this stupid decision.

Even kissing his bride felt so illicit, and looking over to the hundreds of people in attendance he didn't fail to spot you first time; a beautiful rose adorning your loosely curled hair as you stood watching him in utter desperation, and how he wished you had opened your mouth and stopped the entire thing.

Y/n's Pov

He'd probably be upset with you for a little while, upset as you'd have made a fool of him in front of his family and friends. You knew Trent though, which meant you knew he would've gotten over it eventually, realising you were the love of his life and that he’d made the right decision in running away with you, but no.

He had married your sister instead, your blood sister and you could do nothing but watch in horror as he was now all hers.

Your eyes were glossy looking at the excitement they both shared, being able to get away with it as tears of joy, because it was your sister's wedding day and you were expected to be happy for her, but all you felt was pure heartbreak, shattered as you couldn't believe this had happened.

--------

You remember crying yourself to sleep that night. The beautiful destination you had arrived at for their wedding completely going to waste, completely unenjoyable as it had the dreadful event of your sister's wedding tied to it instead.

It was no one's fault but your own, why you even chose to stay involved with Trent even after he broke your heart the first time you didn't know. The real betrayal came when your sister brought him home a year later, and no one batted an eye at the entire thing.

'You only dated him a little while.' They excused, defending her when it came to their new relationship.

'You're young, you weren't even in love.' Your mum told you, and soon they became the couple everyone admired, that everyone loved and you were the idiot who still had feelings for him.

You felt as though you were going mad every time he'd stare at you, whenever you'd lock eyes too long or when you felt he'd go through unnecessary lengths just to be in the same room as you. Soon enough you found out that the feelings were reciprocated of course, and he even told you that he still loves you.

You made love with him that night, it was the start of your despicable affair. It just felt so right in the moment to have him beneath you, all whilst your sister was in the next room sleeping, how disgusting could you be?

You didn't get much sleep that night, sobbing gently to avoid speculation from the thin walls as you couldn't believe you had done that. Yet every time you tried to feel sorry for her, you couldn't. She was the same woman who snatched your love from you, your big sister who you grew up with having no regard for your feelings - you felt nothing for her but hate.

'Please don't do it.' You remember begging him. It was the night before they were due to marry and you were both there alone as he consoled you, telling you how sorry he was and how it was too late now.

It didn't matter how much you begged or pleaded, he'd made his decision the second he made her his girlfriend instead of you, and years of this affair still hadn't brung him to man up and make you his again, to leave her and be happy with you.

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This specific night you were visiting your sister with your parents, which meant visiting Trent.

It had become pretty routine for the two of you to meet this way now. And it was probably alarming for your parents at how eager you were to visit all the time, assuming you and your sister had made amends with your strained relationship.

They didn't know the real reason was to see him, and as selfish and greedy as it was, you didn't even care. Nothing mattered when he was with you, your moral compass simply didn't exist.

After a hectic night of playing nice and a dinner that didn't seem to end, here you were; tucked into the bed of his guest bedroom as the rest of your family were downstairs watching a movie even in the early hours of the morning, and you needed to be excused desperately to get away from them.

You knew Trent and H/n had also arrived for bed when you heard their laughter from the other room, crushing you as you put the volume of your laptop even higher, the sitcom you'd rewatched dozens of times playing at full volume to drown them out as you had to stop yourself from being sick.

Time had passed and all was quiet, your family had even gone up for bed now as you lay there completely awake. You'd turned your computer off and attempted to go to sleep begging your brain to shut off, having no luck unfortunately and resorting to Netflix again as you flicked through a few more episodes hoping your eyes would get tired soon.

You were brought out of your daze by the sound of the door creaking, looking up to see him right there, peeking his head around to see if you were asleep yet or not.

You couldn't help but smile as you ushered for him to come inside, and he sank down next to you in bed before kissing your cheek - crazy how one simple gesture from him had fixed your entire night for you, now you couldn't stop your cheeks turning red from shyness.

'I missed you.' He said, focused on your eyes as he waited for a response

'I missed you too.' You told him, welcoming him to nuzzle his head into your neck as he began to watch your show with you.

You looked over at him discreetly as you sat in silence for a little while, so in awe of how peaceful he looked.

You envied that she got to have him like that, that she had him all of the time when you were subjected to secretive meet ups in hotels or once in a while when your family visited. What hurt the most was how ungrateful your sister was, how she didn't even regard him in the slightest and how much he did for her. You wouldn't let him forget how thankful you were for him if you were her, you'd actually show him love back.

'Is she asleep?' You asked, leading him to look up at you and nod as you were wondering what invited him into your room at this time.

'How come you're not asleep yet?' He asked.

‘Can’t sleep.' You revealed, distracted by your phone as you placed it down after checking it to talk to him.

'How come?' He pushed, trying to get a look at your screen as you shrugged.

You both knew the real reason; you could never sleep at their home knowing the two of them were in the room next door. It was so peculiar and upset you too much - causing your brain to stay awake and make you overthink more than you already did.

'It's okay, I'm here now.' He reminded you, kissing your lips this time.

He leaned in wanting more, suddenly pushing your laptop away as he invited you to straddle him, kissing your neck hungrily before you backed away, turning your head from him.

'What's wrong?' He inquired, taking his hand to gently take ahold of your jaw and avert your focus back to him.

'Did you fuck her just now?' You bluntly asked, making him sigh in exhaustion.

'Not this again.'

'Answer my question, did you sleep with her before you came into the room?' You repeated, stronger this time as repulsion took over your feelings.

'Why do you always have to do this?' He groaned, making you push him off in annoyance as you reclaimed the bed. You already knew the answer, you were disgusted by the noises which had you awake in this insomniac fit in the first place.

'You're making an issue out of nothing Y/n.' He reprimanded, with this argument always confusing him, you both knew they were married.

'I'm going to bed can you go now?' You plainly asked, reaching for your phone to quickly send a text before you reopened your laptop.

'No.' He defended.

'Just get out.'

'Get out? You're the guest, this is my house.' He reminded you, his tone angering you further as he bent his neck the best as he could to see your phone screen.

'Trent I'm trying to sleep, please.'

'And I'm going to sleep next to you.' He fought, placing himself next to you as he kissed your neck again, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t fight back a smile.

'Go to your room, save yourself the hassle of running back to her in the morning.' You joked, whilst he invited you to sit on his lap again, taking a piece of your hair and putting it behind your ear.

'See I knew you weren't really mad at me. Just like to argue don't you?' He teased, making you blush as you both knew it was true.

'I love you.' He said.

'I know.' You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in for a hug.

'I wish we could do this every night.' He said, holding you extra tightly.

'Me too.'

'I'm being serious Y/n.'

'I'm sure you are.' You giggled.

'I'll leave her.' He claimed, catching you off guard, forcing yourself to chuckle to erase the seriousness he had created.

'What's funny?' He asked, seeming serious.

'Don't make promises you can't keep T.' You advised, making him furrow his brows as he seemed upset now.

'Oh I see now.' He started, gesturing for you to get off of him.

'What's the matter?' You asked, placing your hand on his face, concerned now as the playful atmosphere had been erased.

'It's you who doesn't want it, that's always been the issue.' He claimed, leaving you wordless as you didn't say a word to prove him wrong.

'You're not even denying it.' He scoffed, shaking his head.

'It's not that, I just don't want to run around trying to pursue you like these other girls.' You tried to explain.

'You think you're better than these other girls? You're trying to pursue me knowing I'm married to your sister.' He spat, making you back away from him in realisation he was angry and most likely going to hurt your feelings.

You couldn't quite make out what he said after that, finding yourself too occupied with your phone again, you were playing his game back at him.

'Why do you keep looking at your phone?' He asked, leaning over before you placed it face down.

'Oh it's nothing.' You said, trying to calm him down, trying not to laugh in his face.

'Show it to me.'

'No.' You defensively said, both of you were being extra childish right now, just one of the many reasons you didn't work out years ago.

'Y/n give me the phone.' He demanded, snatching it from your hands as he studied the messages before him.

You couldn't help but smirk as you noticed his expression turn sourer, nothing gave you a high more than seeing him this jealous and worked up over you.

'Who the fuck is this?' He questioned, holding the phone out of your reach as you fought for it back, eventually giving up as you knew you couldn't fight him for it.

'A friend.' You coyly revealed.

'And friends send you pictures of their dick do they?' He scoffed, looking at you hatefully.

'I asked him for it.' You smirked, aware you were pushing it now.

'Then you’re a slut.' He retorted, clutching the device as he got up to leave.

'And you're not? Sleeping with your wife's little sister?' You challenged, preventing him from leaving as you got in his face.

'Don't talk to me like that Y/n.'

'Give me my phone.' You fought, trying to get it back from him.

'Has he fucked you?' He asked, and you could've sworn the vein you didn't even know was that prominent on his head was going to pop out any minute now, debating saying anything further.

'In every corner of my apartment.' You shrugged, grinning as that took him over the edge, and a loud bang startled you as you realised he threw your phone at the wall, smashing it to pieces.

'Well done.' You laughed, you had to in order to keep your cool with him, interrupted as the sound of footsteps in the hallway scared you both into silence.

‘Trent? You’ve been in there ages come back to bed.’ Mumbled your sister, knocking on the bathroom door next to yours as she assumed he was in there.

‘I’ll be out in a minute don’t worry.’ Trent called, disguising his voice as the pair of you waited for her to leave and for him to make his great escape. You were sure if she was in a conscious state the two of you would be found out about immediately, grateful of her tired nature.

----------

After the lack of sleep and events from last night you were understandably the last person awake.

You took your time with your shower as you came downstairs to spot everyone gathered at the dinner table, tucking in to breakfast as they couldn't help but watch you join them.

'So lazy you are, you should go to bed earlier.' Your mum nagged, glaring at you fill your breakfast plate up with things on the table.

There was nowhere for you to sit but the empty seat opposite Trent, and soon after you snuck in and got eating, everyone found themselves too involved in their own conversations again to notice you.

Everyone but him however, his gaze wouldn't leave yours, and your sister had definitely took note of this as the glass she held in her hands was just waiting to smash from how her grip got tighter upon seeing you. You weren’t sure how she didn’t catch on more last night, and Trent was still mad at you too - you couldn't help but try and cheer him up in a way he used to love for you to do, the circumstances were different now but the outcome was all the same.

You had to be cautious as you reached for his leg under the table with your foot. No one suspected a thing, all too busy as you slowly went higher, and higher until you reached that spot.

It was difficult to hold back your laughter as you saw him trying to keep his cool, but could feel him from under your soles hardening, guaranteed to piss him off when you abruptly stopped and ignored him for the rest of the meal even when he wanted more, sneaking away finally back to your guest bedroom as you prepared to leave today.

As you got your bags ready you looked up to spot his figure in the door. His arms were folded as he looked you up and down, and the look on his face showed you that he was not pleased with you in the slightest.

You couldn't help but drop your things and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you crept on your tip toes to kiss him.

'Kiss me back.' You giggled, finding humour in how serious he was being.

'Hey I'm sorry.' You added, trying to get him to speak.

'You can't even smile a little bit?' You joked, taking it upon yourself to play with his cheeks in a bid for a small smirk to appear.

'How can I make it up to you T?' You smirked, biting your lip with only one thing on your mind as he began to soften up slightly.

'See I knew that would work.' You giggled, taking his hand and guiding him to sit on the bed, where you then slowly sat on his thigh to straddle him.

'Where's your sister, she home?' He asked, kissing your neck.

'She’s out.' You hummed, eyes closing in satisfaction.

'Why? You want her instead?' You bantered, making him laugh too as he knew you were trying to rile him up again.

'No, just my girl.' He complimented, kissing you.

'Oh now I'm your girl?'

'You've always been my girl.'

'It's a shame you're not my man, I'm spoiled for choice.' You teased.

'Shh.' He whispered, putting a finger over your mouth to stop you from saying more and provoking his jealousy.

'Can't even message him because someone smashed my phone, I have to settle for you now.' You chuckled, watching as he became angrier.

'I'm warning you Y/n not another word.' He sighed, encouraging you to take your top off.

'Im sorry-.' You started, disturbed by the sound of the door as you both turned at once to see who was there.

It all happened too fast. It was pretty much unavoidable. The sound it made when her hand hit your cheek echoed throughout the house as this was the moment it all came crumbling down, the moment you both would finally have to come clean.

'You know, I had a hunch. Mum told me I sounded crazy.' She snapped, as you rushed to put your shirt back on.

'Get out of my house. And don't come back I mean it.' She demanded.

'It's about time you figured it out.' You pettily said, you couldn’t help the urge to get the last word in as you obliged and quietly reached for your remaining bags, taking your car keys and heading to walk out the door.

You could hear her and Trent arguing from behind you, with most of it being him begging her for forgiveness, going on about how he’s sorry - even now after she knew he still couldn't bring himself to claim you, how naive could you be to think he could man up and leave her?

'Why did you do that?' Shouted Trent, following you as you put your bags in the boot of your car.

'Do what?'

'Stop messing with me. You knew she was home.' He claimed, confronting you.

'Thought you'd get the balls to leave her..I was wrong.' You admitted, slamming the trunk as you walked round to put the keys in the ignition.

'You're so selfish you know that?' He told you, and you knew he was right, it was terrible how you couldn't tolerate happiness for your own sister.

'No one forced you to marry her, you made this mess all by yourself.'

'I know, but I love you Y/n.' He panted, waiting for a response.

'I know you do. But I also know you’re not the one for me, no matter how hard I've tried to convince myself you are.' You admitted, shaking your head.

'What?'

'Just leave me Trent.' You pleaded, shutting the door as you backed up the car, leaving as you noticed the rest of your family watching from a distance.

Your relationship was never the same with any of them, you hadn't spoke since you drove away as they understandably took her side.

From what you knew the two of them were still together, it wasn't in your sister's nature to stand up for herself, so no wonder she took him back.

You're yet to find the love of your life, knowing now it's not Trent. He didn't feel the same, messaging you countless times asking you to come back, promising you he'll actually leave her for you this time. You didn't know how to express that you didn't want him any clearer.

They were all right about you, you are selfish. You didn't want Trent from the beginning, you broke up for a reason. Your mum was correct when she told you it wasn't ever love.. you were in love with the idea of him and most importantly consumed by the idea of getting your sister back.

You were never able to fathom how someone you were so close to could swoop in and take him from you, pestering you the most how your family were never on your side about anything.

Maybe the affair was simply a ruse to destroy her and feed your ego after he’d damaged it.

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stevenbasic · 1 year

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GITJ Post 288: A Date at the Movies, p4 (Boner Alert)

My eyes had shot wide as suddenly I recognized the bitter taste that had laced the sickly sweet green smoothie shot I’d just swallowed. Bessie, meanwhile, blithely continued to clean up our table and the girls had already dissolved into laughter. “What’s in it??” Josie asked, between a couple girlish snorts, “What’s it gonna do to him??”

“It’s mostly just vitamins for energy, some kale and beet greens,” Bessie, my new medical assistant who apparently still moonlit here at BOOMfood Smoothie Bar, followed up. Then she looked at me, and added with crooked, dimpled smile, “But they say twenty minutes from now you might want to be someplace private.”

Fuck.

Two of the girls across the table were both suddenly adjusting their tops, Stephanie biting her lower lip and Randi’s eyes flashing with mischief. Josie tossed her hair behind her shoulder and I could feel Shanette on my left draw in a deep breath and inch in toward me, closer with her big, softly chocolate breasts, presented lushly in low-cut top of white spandex.

“Haha what? What’s happening?” Melissa asked, as I sat back and pushed the rest of the green, murky drink away from me, “What was in it?”

“It was Viagra,” I answered, kicking myself already for drinking the thing and watching Melissa dissolve into giggles along with the rest of her friends. How stupid am I? I marveled, but also wondering how a place like this could get away from serving medication on their menu? Yes, yes, sildenafil had been made non-prescription, placed over-the-counter just about a year ago, and it was widely available. But served in a smoothie at a chain restaurant?! And how could I have not asked to read the description on the take-out menu before downing nearly all of it?!

“And you had a double,” Bessie confirmed, “I��ve never been allowed to sell more than one to a customer before haha!” The girls sitting near us, at the counter along the wall, had turned to us to listen.

Jesus. My erections, when they came these days, were already enormous and often painful. Yes, I had just orgasmed a couple hours ago but in my priapic state that didn’t count for much. I mean, I was sporting half chub already, just sitting here with these young beauties, with all their perfumes. What was going to happen to me tonight, now that I’d just ingested-

“How many milligrams are in this thing?” I asked Bessie, praying it was maybe a bit less than the low, non-Rx dose one could buy as a little blue pill at Rite-Aid. Like, 10mg or something. Even that could be potent, though.

“In a ‘double’?” she replied, checking her tablet, apparently looking for the ingredients of ‘Boner Alert’, “I dunno, let me do my math…”

My brow furrowed.

“Like…180?” she answered.

“A hundred and eighty!!” I exclaimed, bringing a new round of laughter from the girls surrounding me, who were obviously finding great humor in my dismay. Christ! As a gerontologist, I’d prescribed a lot of sildenafil over the years, but never more than 100mg in a single dose…and even that was a lot. Normal prescription dosage was 25, maybe 50 milligrams.

“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t finish the whhhole thing,” I heard Melissa offer in condolence, from my right. She giggled.

“Yeah drink up,” Randi chided, pushing the small plastic cup with the remaining green stuff towards me.

”I…I think I should probably leave?” I muttered, causing the whole tableful of girls to suddenly coo and close in around me.

“Nooooo….!” Shanette and the rest of them sang, as a new wave of perfume descended over me and I sat further back, resigning myself to what was about to come…

…

Ten minutes later, maybe fifteen, I was laughing. Jesus, what else was in that drink? I felt giddy, energized. No deadly boner yet. The girls around me were popping fried tofu squares from the plate Bessie had dropped off at the table. “On the house, something new on the menu, ” she said, but warned me not to have any. “Infused with energized estrogen,” she explained. Didn’t have to tell me twice! The girls seemed to love them, though.

“Mmmm you can really taste the saw palmetto…” someone commented.

“So, Dr. J…” Randi asked, from across the table to my right. She was only part way through her second smoothie, and seemed to be resisting the plate of snacks. “You’ve always, like, hired girls, worked with women. Why?”

“Yeah, why?” asked Josie, chewing an “EstroBomb”. She’d removed her little black jacket and her surprisingly big breasts were still a tempting display across the table, as were Stephanie’s and Randi’s. Gosh, when had they all gotten so busty?

“Oh, uhh…I dunno…” I answered, taken a bit aback by the question, taking a sip of the diet coke Melissa had asked Bessie to get for me.

“We know you’ve had affairs with other girls, over the years, at the office,” Randi continued, “There was the Deanna girl, Rina…now Melissa…”

I glanced over at Melissa, who smiled at me girlishly. No one was saying anything of the tryst Randi and I had had, how she’d seduced me in her car. Or Shanette in my apartment. Marisela in the waiting room. Or Morgan In my office, Lakshmi in the backseat…

“When you hire someone, is that what you’re thinking?” Randi pressed, “If they might eventually want to sleep with you?”

“What?! Haha n-no?” I blurted, my reply not sounding convincing enough, even to me. “I was m-married, remember..?”

The girls pushed on.

“Oh, c’mon…”

“Be real…”

Melissa watched me intently.

“Have you been looking for a particular kind of girl, over the years?” Randi asked, “Someone you hoped replied to your, like, job postings?”

“Uhhh…” I stammered, laughing nervously but feeling some weird sort of liquid courage bubbling up inside me. There was more than just phosphodiesterase inhibitors in that drink, for sure.

“Dr. J what’s your ideal woman?” Randi finally asked, straightforward, staring me down.

I looked her right in the eyes, meeting her sparkling amber gaze with my own, and actually felt a little crook of a smile curl onto my lips. ”I...I guess I do have a type, an ideal sort of woman that I, um, gravitate towards,” I began, not even considering that I was feeling the effects of the drink, buzzing a bit, loose of tongue. Dizzy, a bit, flushed. Amorous.

”And just what is this ideal type, Dr. J?” Randi repeated. Girls were now, I saw, hanging on my every word…including all six-and-a-half feet of the bosomy brunette to my right.

I paused to think. I turned to my right, glancing up at Melissa and smiled. The girls all saw it, I knew, and I felt it myself. It was not my usual reticent smile, not cautious or vague but a frank, unguarded, smile that flashed in my eyes and crinkled my usually bashful dimples. She looked down at me, expectant, and I before I answered Randi’s question I boldly lowered my hand to Melissa’s left thigh.

That second, that moment stretched out, my hand laying on her leg. First it was as if a static shock surged through the both of us, our bodies connecting where my questing hand met the silky soft sheath of skin surrounding her spectacular thigh. Hadn’t she been wearing leggings earlier? I thought for a brief sec; I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but apparently she’d - yikes - soaked through them at the movies, and had luckily had a pair of soft grey shorts in the car. Anyway, as I moved my hand slowly down her leg, the contrast between her soft skin and the solid muscle underneath was amazing. I began tracing the individual muscles of her quads with my hand, and felt Melissa obligingly flexing each one as I reached it, both of us now looking down. My hands looked so small against the backdrop of her huge, bare thigh.

”My ideal type?” I repeated, thoughtfully, as I looked back up into Melissa’s eyes, tawny and green in the light. I paused again to renew my smile. “I think I’m looking at her.”

At that, in perhaps my most foolheartedly bold move to date, I grabbed the small plastic cup of what was left of my boner smoothie and downed the remaining inch, thinking:

My erection will be a tribute to her.

“holy shit,” Josie said.

The table erupted in a thunder of female sighs, moans, laughs and “awwwwws” and suddenly - after I saw golden lightning explode in her eyes - Melissa turned at the torso more fully towards me, wrapped two hands around my face and pulled me in for a kiss that shredded my guts. The world around us disappeared, sound and light vanishing as all at once my whole world was her mouth and lips and tongue and the taste of her and her breath. I groaned - that I could hear - loudly, and I think the girls around us cheered.

Suddenly, I could feel the stirring in my own groin. Here it comes. Melissa’s mouth was still consuming mine, my tongue beaten back into my throat by the aggressive push of her own, but - jesus. I was used to being oversized in the schlong department, but had never felt this big before down there. Even at not-100%-full-mast the strain was quickly becoming unbearable against my pants. I needed suddenly to readjust and with - still not breaking our kiss - my free left hand I shed my last few trappings of modesty, frantically shifting the angle of my cock against my right thigh through my khakis and boxers. Hell’s bells, I thought to myself, as Melissa’s tongue continued to dominate mine, here it fucking comes. I suddenly felt a little unsteady, sitting there, could almost picture my circulation being redirected away from my brain and major organs and down towards my waist. Yes, my head was starting to swim a bit. As we kissed I was getting harder and harder and harder. I groaned again, this time not in the rapture of the tongue lock I was sharing with this most beautiful of women. I groaned because it had started to hurt.

Melissa was the one to break our kiss. She looked down at me, into my eyes, and saw all she needed in my plaintive gaze. My erection surged again, from me just looking at her, and my jaw dropped open.

“Ow,” I said, eyes narrowing.

“Oh my god you poor thing,” she said, a breathless thrill in her voice, “I’m gonna get you home.”

=================================

#growing into the job

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justoneacatperson · 3 years

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First Date

This is reupload from my old blog!

request by @therealpotatobish

TodoDeku x Fem! Reader

Date with Todoroki and Midoriya is, to put it mildly - chaos. Where do I start?

First we have Todoroki. Very handsome young man with two-tone hair and eyes. We all know that Shoto is not familiar with many things, his childhood was not very colorful and rosy, not at all.

He has not seen his parents take care of each other or behave like a couple, so he is not very familiar with how to treat a person he likes.

He didn’t even realize he liked Midoriya when he was still a student at U.A. It was good that there were his sister to explain to him what those feelings were.

We have already seen that he takes things seriously and does not understand jokes or metaphors, so it takes time to work with him.

Certainly his relationship with Izuku helped him a lot. He showed him what love, care and empathy are, but for him things are complicated again. He and Izuku will date a woman, a woman they have been in love with since their school years in the U.A. Shoto doesn’t know how to treat a woman and what they would like.

We also have the next one, namely Midoriya. Our broccoli boy has remained the same shy young man, despite his fame as the new No.1 hero, this part of him has not changed.

He would certainly do better than Todoroki, but his still shy nature worries him that he won’t be able to talk to you.

They are both worried about your reaction to everything. They have never heard that you like someone, nor have there been rumors that you are with someone, they didn’t even know if you like boys !? Nevertheless, you accepted their invitation to a date, at least they managed to make it clear that they were inviting you to a date, a DATE, and you were fine with that.

Now was the date where they would know if they had a chance with you, and here they were, sitting at the reserved table, waiting for you to come.

21:27p.m

Deku kept a close eye on his watch, looking at every minute. They had arrived about ten minutes ago and were sitting nervously at the table, well, Izuku was moving nervously, and Shoto was sitting meekly, staring at one dot, trying to keep his mind tidy and clear.

-“She will come, Midoriya, our dateis at 9:30p.m.” Todoroki exclaimed, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand under the table to reassure him.

-“Ah, I know, Shoto-san, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous.” the green-haired man replied, smiling at his partner. -“We have been waiting for a long time for the chance to invite her and the fact that she agreed and now we will have a date makes me feel surreal. It’s as if I’ve finally reached a goal that I thought was impossible. It’s very strange that happens, I still consider it unrealistic.”

The two-colored man looked at him with surprised heterochromic eyes. Despite their years together, the things they went through could not be compared to that. And the fact that Deku feels that way surprises him. He is also surprised that he was able to describe how he felt too.

It felt like he was 17 again in his 2nd year at U.A. When he shared his feelings to Midoriya. Confused, scared, excited. He never believed that he would fall in love or be able to be a partner, the love of someone else.

A small smile crept across his face. Todoroki leaned over to his partner, leaning his head on his shoulder. Their physique has changed and evolved over the years. Already in his mid-twenties, Deku had grown much taller than his school years. He was now towering over Shoto.

Midoriya smiled, leaning against Shoto, planting a kiss on his white and red hair. The two parted, looking up at a door that could be heard opening and closing. 20:30, you arrived just in time.

You looked around the restaurant in confusion, looking for your table. Midoriya instinctively raised his hand, waving at you and shouting. -“(Y/n)-chan!” you looked up at them, a wide smile appeared on your face, bringing butterflies into the stomachs of both heroes.

-“Hey, Deku, Sho!” you replied, going to them.

Midoriya wanted to make a good impression by taking your jacket and pulling your chair backward to sit, but you came like a whirlwind, sitting hastily in the seat in front of them. Obviously there will be no good first impression.

-“Oh, I was in such a hurry so as not to be late.” you started, removing your jacket, leaving it on the back of the chair. - “I was nervous not to be late because there was a traffic jam on the road. After I managed to park it took me time to find the restaurant and…”

Deku waved his arms in front of him, trying to reassure you that you weren’t late, sharing his own worries about not being late. So you two became a muttering mess, and Todoroki rested his chin on his hand, happily watching the scene in front of him. Cute.

-“You are not late, you have nothing to worry about.” the two-colored man called out of nowhere, stopping you and Izuku.

-“It’s good to know.” you said calmly, leaving your hands on the table. -“Long time no see.”

-“Since our graduation in the U.A.” added the green-haired man, rubbing the back of his head.

-“What’s happen with you? I last heard you joined Selkie’s agency.” you nodded in agreement to Shoto.

-“Yes, my quirk would be very welcome in sea battles.”

-“Are you adapting fast?” Deku asked cheerfully.

-“Yes, the hero Manual is there too. We have some pretty similar quirks, so he was so kind to help me adapt.” you replied, controlling the water in your glass with your quirk, making it take the shape of a snake and move along the walls of your glass in a circle.

-“This is very good.” exclaimed the hero, tying his hands on the table.

They both felt a little awkward, not knowing how to continue the conversation, fortunately the waitress saved them by giving them the menus. You opened the menu of hard leather covers, looking at the variety of foods.

-“Oh, hey, Sho, they have a cold soba.” you said excitedly, showing him the menu on the first page.

-“So I’ll order a cold soba.” the two-colored man replied before receiving muttering from Midoriya.

-“But, Sho, we have a whole pot full of soba!” you laughed at their interaction, attracting their attention.

-“What?” they both asked at the same time.

-“Nothing, you just haven’t changed since we graduated from the U.A.” you said with a laugh. Deku giggled too, smiling at you.

-“What do you mean? We look the same way we did 7 years ago?” Todoroki asked confusedly, looking at himself and his boyfriend and again to himself. You and Izuku looked at each other and almost fell from your seats with your boisterous laughter. -“Ah?”

-“O-oh…. Sho!” tears formed in the corners of your eyes, wiping them with your hand. -“You’re still funny!”

-“Funny?”

-“Yes.” the green-haired man replied, leaning his head on his partner’s shoulder.

The three of you ordered a teishoku, receiving it in about 30 minutes. Everyone enjoy their food before Todoroki calls.

-“(Y/n), do you see our old class?” you swallowed your food before answering.

-“Yes, even with some very often.” you said, playing with your chopsticks, twisting them between your fingers and doing tricks with them. -“Most often I go out with Kaminari, by some chance it turned out that we work in the same agency.”

-“Kaminari-san?” Deku exclaimed, looking at you in astonishment. You nodded, uttering a little “Uhm.”

-“All right, that’s nice! We haven’t heard from Denki.”

-“Are you close to each other?” Shoto asked, taking another bite of his meal.

-“I’d say yes. We go out often, we message to each other, he’s very cute. He’s also grown a lot from UA, he’s become more responsible and he controls his quirk much better. We have a lot of fun together. We have dinners for us, in which we are on the couch at my or his home and eating popcorn while watching scary movies. "you said with a smile on your face.

-"Oh, I understand…” Todoroki replied, bowing his head over his food, hiding his face through his hair, which he had left to grow for reaching a length where he could tie it in a bun.

Izuku reached under the table, gripping his boyfriend’s thigh, rubbing it lightly to offer support. He knew his boyfriend’s lack of confidence in relationships. He has always worried about whether he is doing well as a partner and doing everything right.

Talking about a boy (and you’re not the person who talks a lot or often about people, especially boys), who is the opposite of his personality and sees that you’re really having fun with him, feels like someone hit him with wet rag across the face.

-“And you guys…” you called, bringing them both back to reality. -“How are you? The press is very interested in your relationship.” you smiled slyly.

-“So… After we graduated from UA, Shoto and I went to Endeavor’s agency, as his partners in catching villains. That was until we turned 22, All Might offered to take his agency… And I took it.” he replied, scratching the back of his head where his undercut was. -“The press found out about my relationship with Todoroki when I took the agency and there were hundreds of news stories that said, ‘Hero No.1 is in a relationship with Endeavor’s son’.”

-”O!?”

-“Yes, and still receives dozens of emails a day, invitations for interviews about our relationship.”

-“It’s too much for you. The press hasn’t learned for so many years that the heroes have a private life that they usually keep to themselves and don’t want to make it public. The personal space of the heroes must be respected.” you said and turned to Todoroki. -“And for so many years as a pro-hero, people have kept leading you the 'son of Endeavor,’ and that’s all you’re known for.”

-“It’s annoying.” Todoroki replied, making you and Deku giggle a little.

-“Well, those are just words from older people in Japan.” the green-haired man exclaimed, rubbing his boyfriend’s thigh. -“I am sure that the young generation will remember you with your name and your deeds.”

-“You’re right.” said his partner.

-“Ah, (Y/n)-san, do you happen to be in a relationship or dating someone?” Midoriya asked you. Shoto immediately ran one hand under the table, squeezing his thigh - too early, Midoriya.

-“O!?” you opened your eyes wide to them from the sudden question. -“No, I’m not in a relationship, I’m not dating anyone. Why do you ask?”

-“Uhhh…” and now was the scariest part of this meeting - to tell you. Shoto looked at Izuku out of the corner of his eye, looking for an answer as to what to do. -“With Shoto we wanted to ask you something…”

-“Yes…” you said under your breath.

-“Would you like to be with us?” Todoroki asked suddenly, leaning back in his chair.

You and Deku looked shocked at the two-colored man. You dropped your chopsticks as you watched Sho like you saw a ghost. Izuku immediately started waving his arms, trying to reassure you, saying that they were not forcing you to be in relationship with them, that they would not be in a hurry, that they would not be angry if you refused, and ect.

It just took you a moment to process Shoto’s question. They wanted to date you? Really? You were like close friends during your school years, but you didn’t think they had any other than platonic feelings about you. They were both open and comfortable, both shy and anxious around you or when talking to you. You wouldn’t be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for them in the U.A., but once you found out they were in a relationship, it discouraged you a lot.

-“So?” Todoroki called again.

-“Sho, calm down, give her ti…”

-“Yes.” you replied, getting “Uh!?” from them. - “I accept, I would like to date you.”

-“Really?” Midoriya asked in surprise.

-“Yes…” you said, tying your hands on the table. -“I would just ask for time to get used to, as this will be my first relationship in my life, especially with more than one person.”

-“We’ll give you all the time you need.” Todoroki said, taking your hand in his. Where did you get this confidence? - Izuku wondered.

-”Thanks.”

-“So… should we continue our dinner to celebrate our relationship?” the green-haired man asked cheerfully.

-“Yes!” you and Shoto answered at the same time.

#bnha poly #mha poly #tododeku #tododeku x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader

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bvckys-doll · 3 years

Text

Masquerade

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: Y/N and her family are invited to a masquerade ball since Netherfield hall has a new owner: Lord James Buchanan Barnes. What (Y/N) does not know is that this will be her last night among the living.

Warnings: soft!dark themes here! A bit of manipulation. Blood! Pride and Prejudices vibes at the beginning of the fic.

Author’s note: I’m happy that I can finally post this one because I’m a whore for masquerade balls and vampires! Especially Vampire!Bucky! This goes out to @emily-roberts (who can’t be tagged unfortunately) since they inspired me to work on Masquerade here! Maybe this will get a sequel, i’m not sure yet.

You can find my masterlist here!

The year is 1867. Queen Victoria is still in power, and the country is at peace. At least, to the people who are lucky enough to live in the countryside in England. Especially the women who were the ones that learned the least of the ongoing problems around the world. At this time in history, they were mostly excluded from these kinds of conversations. Something (Y/N) was deeply offended by.

Most of the women around her had only one thing on their mind: the latest gossip and men.

Nothing would fit better into the gossip than a mysterious lord who had recently moved into the large estate near Netherfield Park. The whole city was in turmoil, and everyone wanted to get one of the coveted invitations to the grand inauguration party.

(Y/N) could still remember the day a few weeks ago when her mother was running around the house in a rage and talking to herself over and over again. Her father had tried to ignore his wife as much as possible.

“I have heard from Mrs. Brenstock that the new Lord of Netherfield Park is about to give a ball. A ball, Mr. Edwards! Can you imagine that? He doesn’t seem to have sent out any invitations yet, otherwise, we would have gotten one by now, wouldn’t we? Tell me I’m right” she had let herself sink into her chair. With the thick needle in her hand, she repeatedly stabbed her new embroidery cloth.

(Y/N) had been sitting across from her mother at the time and hardly noticed her rambling about the ball, as the young lady was too absorbed in her thoughts about her newest book, which was on the table in front of her.

For her mother, this was finally the chance to marry her off to a rich man. Perhaps even to the owner of the estate himself, since many speculated him to be single. Most women of (Y/N)’s age were already married, some even had children.

It wasn’t that (Y/N) wasn’t very talkative. If she was given a suitable subject, she could chat for hours, but her mother had always preached to her that no man wanted a woman with a loud attitude. Despite all this, (Y/N) didn’t kept her mouth shut and spoke freely about what she thought. Mostly.

It had been a month since that conversation between her parents and (Y/N) was now sitting with them in a carriage on their way to the estate of the new lord of Netherfield Park.

The letter had arrived about two days after the long discussion between her mother and her quiet father. (Y/N) seemed to be more relieved than her mother because she couldn’t bear her constant chatting and complaining about the ball.

In her lap was a white mask that her mother had brought home a few days ago. A masquerade. That was the order of the new landlord. An unusual way to celebrate a party, where you wanted to get to know the locals better, but (Y/N) didn’t put much thought into it.

With a calm look, she peered out of the window of the carriage and could see how the estate grew in the distance. The lights were shining through the high windows towards them as they rode the carriage to the large courtyard, where some other women were already getting out of their carriages and ascending the great marble staircase with their families.

Her father was the first to go out of the carriage, before he helped his wife out. In the end, he reached out to his daughter. For a brief moment, (Y/N) struggled with the wide skirt of her dress, before standing firmly on the ground.

Once again, she let her gaze wander over the courtyard and looked up at the broad facade of the estate. Suddenly (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone who seemed to be looking down at them and was watching what was going on. But before (Y/N) could take a closer look, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hall.

Upstairs in the said room, James watched how the carriages gathered in the courtyard and presented the different guests of almost every status. All came to see some of the wealth of the estate and the treasures that were on display in its halls.

“How many people will visit us tonight? Take a guess” Steve asked him. He was sitting at his best friend’s desk and had put his feet on the tabletop while he leaned back.

James’s gaze was still on the staircase as his gaze followed the woman who had just looked up at him. Yet he replied, “More than two hundred, I would say. Enough to get our bellies full for the next month. You’re going to keep them under control, aren’t you? We need posts at every door.”

“Of course. I’ve never worked sloppy before. You should know that”, Steve winked at him before he stood up and drained the last remaining blood out of his cup. The next moment he pulled some gloves out of his jacket and put them on “But answer me one. Why a masquerade?”

“You don’t want anyone to remember us by mistake, do you?”, a dark smile grazed James features. A similar smile came up on Steve’s face before he pulled the mask over his eyes and left.

In the meantime, the large ballroom of the estate had filled with guests and a small orchestra on a raised balcony played quiet music.

With all the hustle, (Y/N) wondered if she would even recognize anyone. The masks just made it harder to spot anyone she knew. Maybe she could get away from her mother. Time and time again she looked for familiar eyes.

Nervously, she again smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt and chewed around her lower lip. With each breath, it seemed to her as if the corsage of her dress was still lacing up.

Before her inner rambling could cause her to make her more uncomfortable, the hitting of a staff made the crowd go quiet. Everyone held their breath and turned to the source of the voice “Please welcome Lord James Buchanan Barnes and Colonel Steven Grant Rogers!”

The guests applauded in honour of the two men who were standing on a raised platform at the end of the hall. One of them stepped forward and raised his wine glass. (Y/N) couldn’t make out his features. Still, he wore a fancy dark suit with a wine-red tie. His slightly longer hair was tied with a ribbon in the back of his head. Although (Y/N) couldn’t see his eyes, they seemed pitch black.

“It is an honour to welcome you all to my new home. Until now, I have been welcomed with kindness in this beautiful little town and I am very happy to get to know you all better soon. I haven’t even lived here for a month, but it already feels like home to me. Let us all enjoy this evening. Sing, laugh and dance!”, his voice echoed through the room. It gave (Y/N) goosebumps.

He raised his glass to which his guests responded with the same gesture before they all took a sip of their drinks. It took less than five seconds, and the conversations were resumed. It was as if that greeting had never happened.

But (Y/N) could not take her eyes of her host. This was the person she had previously seen standing at the window. Before she could look away from him, he had already noticed her and seemed to reply to her stare. She tensed.

She hastily looked at the wine glass in her hand, from which she quickly took a short sip. The music started again. This time a bit louder than before because the guests began to dance. It wouldn’t take long for her mother to approach her once again and tell her daughter to find a suitable dance partner for the night.

“Do you see that woman over there? The one in the red dress and the white mask”, Bucky walked next to Steve as they made their way through the guests, who all respectfully stepped aside and bowed. Again and again, the two nodded to some people appreciatively.

Steve followed his friend’s gaze unobtrusively and nodded briefly “Pretty little thing. Do you want to go play or save her all to yourself for the night?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I am sure going to do something with her”, he winked at Steve and stopped at the edge of the dance floor, watching his guests dance. Shortly thereafter, Steve also left him to dance with his wife Margaret, who approached them.

While his friends were busy having fun at the party, James resumed his search for the woman he had just spotted. It did not take long for him to find her her standing next to an elderly couple, who seemed to have an exciting conversation with two other guests. The woman herself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and kept sipping on her glass. That was his cue.

(Y/N) gave out a soft sigh and investigated her wine glass, which would soon be empty. She listened with one ear to the conversation of her parents but did not attempt to participate herself. The unknown woman just boasted how her daughter had married a wealthy man from Oxford some time ago and now lived there. (Y/N) was already getting ready for a sermon from her mother.

Once again, the young woman raised her glass to her red lips as suddenly-

“Excuse me if I bother you but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” said a deep voice to her, which seemed quite familiar to (Y/N). Her gaze wandered from her glass to the chest of the man standing before her. Her breath was stunted. It was Lord Barnes looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He held out his hand to her, but (Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.

For a moment, it seemed as if (Y/N) had forgotten to have a normal and decent conversation when her mother stepped in and tore the glass out of her hand “She would be honoured to dance with you, Lord Barnes.”

A charming smile spread across his lips as her mother said so. But he turned his gaze to (Y/N) again and asked for her approval “I hope that is indeed the case.”

(Y/N) blinked. Once, twice.

“Yes, I would very much like to dance with you”, she now agreed herself and took his hand, which he still held out to her. He gently drew her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand “What a relieve.”

It was not only her mother who lost her breath at this gesture. Like in a trance, (Y/N) followed her new dance partner onto the wide dance floor, where people automatically made room for them in awe. Soon he stopped with her in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her to his chest, where she instinctively assumed her posture and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Slowly the music started anew. A slow waltz. Controlled, he guided her through the room, and it seemed as if (Y/N) had never done anything else in her life. Every step was exactly as it should be. It was as if they were floating over the dance floor. At least, it seemed like that to her.

“I hope I didn’t take you by surprise”, James remarked, looking down at his dance partner, who focused her eyes on his chest. The reason behind it was the fact that he was a lot taller than her.

Hastily (Y/N) shook her head as her cheeks heated up “Not at all, my lord. I was just surprised, that’s all. There are so many beautiful young women here, I wondered why you chose me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have just chosen the prettiest in the room”, James replied, presenting her his charming smile, which made his eyes light up for a second. (Y/N)’s knees got soft. It seemed liked she had been enchanted by his aura.

It wasn’t long before the music became quieter and stopped. Together with the other couples, they stopped and applauded the musicians before James gave her his arm and whispered to her “Would you like to accompany me outside? It seems to be getting a little stuffy in here.”

A lie. It’s been years since James truly breathed air.

“I would love to.”, (Y/N) nodded and took shelter with her host before following him out onto the wide terrace. On their way there, (Y/N) did not notice James meeting the eyes of one of his men. It was Sam who stood near the exit and smiled at his friend. He knew James had found someone new to play with. If only it were for tonight.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” James looked up to the sky, where thousands of stars were glowing. It was more common here in the countryside. In the cities, the stars could be barely seen by the smoke rising through the chimneys into the sky.

(Y/N) followed his gaze and leaned forward against the wide stone railing. She nodded back, “Yes, it is. You haven’t seen such a sight very often, have you? I mean, I heard you moved out of town. What prompted you to do this?”

“The war and tranquillity I am looking for”, James replied honestly this time and turned his gaze back to (Y/N), who was still looking up at the stars, but noticed how he looked at her with his eyes: “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“You didn’t ask for it either”, (Y/N) replied quick and smiled.

Oh, she’s cheeky. I like that.

He laughed for a moment and neck before he asked, “May I know your name, milady?”

At last, she looked at him again and her eyes shone as she replied with a smile, “My name is (Y/N). And I’m not a lady, my lord.”

The tension she had felt before in his presence was blown away. She felt comfortable in his presence, but she couldn’t explain why. He radiated a certain calmness that made her feel safe and comfortable.

He tilted his head to the side as he smiled, “The name suits you. But tell me, (Y/N), why would a pretty woman like you be alone with your parents at a party like this? There must be a man in your life.”

“Why? Because a woman like me needs a man?” she answered with a counter-question. She wondered how long he would put up with it. But it seemed that the remark would excited him more.

He raised an eyebrow, to which she smiled briefly and replied honestly, “I have a mind of my own, as my mother says. Most men don’t like this feature very well. In our small town, they want a woman who makes a man look good. She has to be pretty and smart, but not too smart for her to make the man look stupid. She needs to be educated, but not waste too much time on it. The piano is very popular with most men.”

“Women who only deal with the latest gossip have never really interested me. Besides, I like to talk to women who can keep up with my intellect. Someone like you”, James replied honestly again, leaning his hip against the stone wall to take a close look at her.

As (Y/N) fixed her posture to look him right in the eye, he stepped foward. He gently raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin to raise it so that she could not take her eyes off of him, “Men can be stubborn, especially English men. But we Americans love it when a woman has something more on her mind than piano notes and pretty clothes. How boring it would be to have someone with you who only agrees with everything you say. I have met lots of these women, but I have seldom encountered someone like you.”

Smiling, (Y/N) held his gaze as he took his hand from her chin and took her hand in his. She looked down for a moment but did not attempt to let go.

“You’re the first man to say something like that to me, and you seem to mean it”, she smiled and briefly squeezed his hand. From the gloves he was wearing, she didn’t even notice how cold they were. Once again, he put her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, “I am glad to see my presence and my personality please you, Lady (Y/N).”

“As I said, I’m not a lady”, she laughed softly as her cheeks heated up once more. The smile on his lips made her knees soft again, “To me, you are one.”

With every moment that passed, he liked the young woman more and more. Something he didn’t expect. It was selfish, but he knew then and there he wouldn’t let her go. Not as fast as he had planned. It would be difficult to inspire her for eternity once he had done it.

A life like him could also be lonely and desolate. Many souls had already gone mad after being transformed and being unable to return to the world of the living. It drove them mad. He wouldn’t let his (Y/N) go crazy. Not so easily.

“My Lord?” her sweet voice tore him from the thoughts that were swirling through his head. His gaze fell back on her as she gave him a worried look. He gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face and smiled calmly, “Forgive me, I was in my head.”

“Do you think maybe we should go back to the hall? Your guests would also like to exchange a few words with you. I don’t want to besiege you forever”, (Y/N) glanced over her bare shoulder and looked at the tinted glass doors that shielded her from the guests. Many couples were on the dance floor together and seemed cheerful.

“I think my guests will be able to be just fine without my constant presence for a while. Besides, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to spend some more time with you”, he replied, following her gaze briefly before turning her gaze to him.

It seemed almost supernatural to (Y/N) that a man like Lord Barnes would take such an interest in her, but it was mutual. She didn’t want to leave him. Not yet. She was delighted with his company and gave him a warm smile before she replied, “And it would be a lie if I said I am not pleased by your interest.”

A burst of hearty laughter came over James' lips. It had been a long time since he had heard such words that had truly touched him. Smiling, he held her hand that was still in his, before leading (Y/N) from the terrace into the wide garden, where many lanterns illuminated their path.

(Y/N) had already placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the small maze that stood in the middle of the garden. The tall hedges shielded them from curious eyes as they disappeared deeper and deeper into the maze.

“My parents will probably be wondering where I am”, (Y/N) smiled as she followed James through the hedges, still holding his hand tightly in fear she could lose him. Apparently, he knew his way around the maze very well, for he guided them safely to a small square that marked the middle of the maze.

In the middle of the square stood a beautifully decorated pavilion, clad in red and white roses and ivy trees. James led her there and sat down with her on one of the two benches.

“Your parents know you’re in good hands with me. I would never allow anything…bad to happen to you”, James merely replied. (Y/N) couldn’t have known that evil himself was still holding her hand and concealing his cruel nature with a pretty face. He could feel her heartbeat speeding up a bit.

“You know, (Y/N), a life like mine. . . is very lonely”, he told her, looking at the flowers hanging next to him on a pole. Yet he noticed how her gaze stuck to him. In a calm voice he continued, “Although I am very wealthy and have seen so much of the world, I have been missing someone to share this life with for years. Someone who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to be with me just for my money and my land. Do you understand what I mean?”

His gaze fell back on her. (Y/N)’s eyes almost pierced through his head as her eyes turned glassy. A soft sigh escaped her as she gazed down into her lap.

“I understand you very well. Even though my mother’s efforts are straining me a lot, I still want someone who. . . likes me for me. Who wants me. Not for my dowry, but for myself. I have never spoken to someone who understands me as well. . . as you do”, she replied, being astonished at her words.

James Barnes was the first man she could talk to without having to pretend. Her slightly rough nature had not deterred him. He had been tenacious, but still kind and attentive. It’s been a long time since she met someone like him. His personality seemed to drew her even closer to him. As if there was an invisible ribbon, which now tied her to him.

“You are so much more than just your dowry and a pretty face, (Y/N). Maybe it’s too hasty, but it would be a pleasure for me to get to know you better. The real (Y/N), who doesn’t have to act and doesn’t want to impress anyone. I already know you a little, but. . . not quite yet”, he stroked her cheek, giving her goosebumps. In a good way.

A short smile grazed her lips as she put her hand on his, “I would also like to get to know you better, my lord.”

“Please call me James. The title is too formal for me”, he smiled gently at her and ran his thumb over her cheekbones as (Y/N) muttered softly, “As you wish,…James.”

Slowly, he noticed her pulse increasing. He looked her in the eyes again as he got closer, and she could feel his cold breath on her skin. For a brief moment, it seemed like a dream to her, but it became reality at the moment as his lips touched hers. (Y/N) froze. She wasn’t expecting that. Not yet.

Immediately he broke away from the kiss and pulled his hand from her cheek, “Sorry, that was a little too hasty of me.”

If there was still blood flowing through his body, he’d be blushed. For the first time in a long time, he seemed nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. But (Y/N) grabbed his hand and shook her head calmly, “No, please. I was just…surprised that you…feel that way about me.”

“You’re just…so different. In a positive way, of course”, he held her hand and squeezed it briefly once when (Y/N) was the one who came a little closer and leaned forward, “No, you must forgive me. I didn’t mean to reject you. I like you…very much.”

Now James knew it was the right time.

Slowly he leaned over to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Sighing her eyes closed as the young lady returned his kiss a little cautiously. After all, he had more experience in it than she did. But only now did (Y/N) realize how cold he was. It’s almost freezing.

“James, you’re so cold”, (Y/N) gently detached herself from the kiss and held her lips as he stroked her cheek and put a strand behind her ear: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Once again, he conquered her lips and pulled her closer to his chest. A little more courageously, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes again as he slowly continued to kiss her but wandered from her cheek down to her throat. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed his kisses on her warm skin. His lips were still cold, but now she did not seem to care anymore.

Soon he could hear her rapid heartbeat as he lavished kisses on her neck. (Y/N) did not notice how his eyes darkened and his teeth stretched into pointed pillars.

For a moment, James wrestled with himself over whether he should really kill her or go even further. Still, one thing was very clear. (Y/N) would never see the light of day again.

"Forgive me." he breathed against her soft skin and closed his eyes before placing his hand over her mouth. Before (Y/N) could even realize what was happening to her, he rammed his teeth into her neck. Her scream was stifled by his hand, but her body didn't give up so quickly. Panicked, she pushed and pounded against his chest as James sucked the blood from her body. But all her attempts did her no good, as he was far too strong for her.

Finally, she slumped lifelessly in his arms and sank against his chest. Sighing, James detached himself from her neck and pressed another soft kiss to the wound where his teeth had pierced her skin moments ago.

Gently he laid the young woman on the bench and pushed her hair out of her face. Carefully he untied the ribbon at the back of her head and pulled the mask from her face.

"Just as I imagined, my darling..." he ran his thumb over her lower lip and looked into her lifeless eyes before pulling his own mask off his face and tossing it on the floor beside him.

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand, "I'll take care of you, my angel. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. We'll be together forever."

#vampire!bucky barnes #soft dark theme #soft dark #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #female reader #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #dont repost #fanfiction #own gif #giphy #masquerade

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

who you are and who you’ve been

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,490

summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.

warnings: SMUT. Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.

a/n: Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!

“Mama! Mama! You here?”

You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room. She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy. You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit…

You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in. But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.

God, you missed being young… Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.

You still washed your hands after touching almost anything. An instinct that never went away.

That year and the couple years before had been… insane. But at least it incited real change in the world. The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.

History did have a habit of repeating itself. Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.

“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.

At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage. That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.

The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left. You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of. You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university. And by then, what was the point? They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.

Now that… that was hard to answer… You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember. You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home…

Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look. “I’m fine right where I am.”

“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.

Josephine rolled her eyes. “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.” She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time. “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine… You remember what happened last time…”

Ah, yes, the infamous incident.

Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.

There had been a… few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital. It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.

You didn’t blame her, of course. But it did make you feel like a horrible mother. One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.

“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal. “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”

“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”

You blinked.

And then, you blinked again.

You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face. “No the fuck you did not. I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!” You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt. “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”

“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table. “And it’s not a pre-death support group. I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.” Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.

This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.

“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.

Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.

“Honestly, mama… I just want you to be happy… You should have friends. You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”

“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you? And Danny?” You asked.

But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone. Completely, and utterly, alone. Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.

Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.

God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time. You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.

But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it. There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.

And you’d made your peace with that.

Sort of.

Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours. Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.

Thank god. She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.

“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin. “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it… It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with. Please?”

And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?

“Alright,” you said after a moment. “I’ll go once. And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back. And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”

She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet. “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”

Oh, good. She was going all in.

“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.

“Tonight.”

Uh. What?

“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up. “What?! You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”

She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades. “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”

You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on. “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.

Josephine gave you a look as she continued. “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”

Well, you had lost some weight… Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.

In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.

You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.

She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning. A South American cruise.

Josephine had never married, never had kids. Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through. It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.

Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.

“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big. “Come on. I’ll drive you and pick you up.”

“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into. “You’d think I could take an Uber.”

The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held. The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.

But this was… upscale. Sophisticated.

Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.

It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.

A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him. “You always call women as old as me miss?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink. “My dad’s single, you know. If you were… looking.”

“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed. “Can I get a Manhattan?”

The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father. And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.

You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you. “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked. At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed. “Can I get a double on the rocks?”

The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.

“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding. Josephine had told you to make friends. That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into. “You know your whiskeys.”

The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face. You hadn’t dared look at him yet. “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”

“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.

And oh, you wished you hadn’t. He was… stunning. The very definition of male beauty. His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties… The 1940s, that is. Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams. He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.

But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older. You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.

“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment. Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.” He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips. There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome. “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey. It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station. Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”

You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades. “Really?” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.

“Mmm…” He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem. You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display. “Really. I’m James. What’s your name?”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name. God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.

His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up. “You’re here for the meeting, too?”

“Um… Yes,” you said, ducking your head.

“But, doll…” He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips. “You don’t look a day over thirty-five. Are you sure you’re a senior?”

Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o. “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”

James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart. “A club?! Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious. “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now? Brothels?”

For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.

For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable. He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink. “Um…”

“You’re the Winter Soldier. James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring. “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”

Shit, his laugh was beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. Like Apollo or something...

James’s head was thrown back in laughter. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut. “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath. At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again. “What did you write about? How devilishly handsome I am?”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this. “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”

Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you. Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.

The meeting was… long. Boring.

Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.

Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.

As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours. “So… Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames. You weren’t gonna survive.

Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.

But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?

“Um… Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him. “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home… I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over. She’s nosey. Real… Real nosey.”

“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled. “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”

Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.

“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home. She couldn’t tell from the look on your face. “Did you like it?”

“Hm? Yeah.” Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.

“Are you gonna go again?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers. At least you were getting out of the house.

Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be. Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed. She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.

Thank fuck.

You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.

“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.

Okay, quick body shower. It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.

You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.

And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.

As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.) By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside. His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light. “Woah… You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass. “It’s cozy. Sweet.”

Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink. “Um… so those papers…”

Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter. “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island. “If I am… If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.” His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was. “Am I here just for the papers?”

“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last. His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.

Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?

But he was perfect? Why the hell would he be nervous?

Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter. “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting. Just wanted to kiss you. Just wanted to… to touch you.” He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again. “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”

A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt. Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest. He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts. There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…

But you liked this better. There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.

You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest. “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.

Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs. “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.

Gotta be fair, after all.

“James…”

“Fuck, baby girl… Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy. “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly. He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.

“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious. What if he thought your pussy was weird? Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.

But he was born in the forties.

But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!

Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him. The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.

“Hey.”

You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s. “Yes?”

“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds. “There’s no need… It’s just you and me, okay? And you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss. “Okay… Just you and me.”

James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Come on. I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter. Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.

You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck. “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.

The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall. “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips. “Y-Yes. Yes. Please, I need more, James…”

James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“That’s a tall order.” You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass. “You sure you can fill it?”

He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom. You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips. “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.

“Please… Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said. Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.

Fucking worth it, though.

James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.

“I… I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time. Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours. “Oh, fuck…”

“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”

You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours. There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.

You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.

A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined. Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.

There were no words that needed to be said.

His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw. It had certainly marked up your neck.

“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth. Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold. “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted… But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.

“Yeah.” A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.

The next morning, you woke up alone. The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.

Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.

It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it. As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.

You had been right about feeling it in your knees.

You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt. Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.

He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker. He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.

Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him. He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen. In your home.

Maybe he’d like to move in…

You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.

But the thought was nice.

Him in his pajamas, making coffee… Him in your shower… Him in your bed every night…

Yeah. It’s a really, really nice thought.

“Hi.”

James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you. “Hi. I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said. “I’m making pancakes. For you. For us.” His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”

“Oh, no, I… I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.

As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed. “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”

It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.

You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.

But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.

Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.

Your first date was to a movie, a drive in. Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.

But it’s perfect. Perfect and cheesy and romantic.

Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off. He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.

It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.

Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.

At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did. It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.

“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.

He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder. “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”

The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.

“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.

“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.

James made you feel worthy.

Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.

It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.

Also… Girlfriend? Were you his girlfriend now? Officially?

That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.

But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass. The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.

Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding… Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—

Would he even want to meet Josephine?

Would Josie wanna meet him?

She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?

“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed. His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you. “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”

“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.

It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.

But you had a gut feeling. One that you had never had with your ex husband.

James was a good one. A really, really good one.

That reminded you.

When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?

Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.

Soon, you decided.

But first, you had to get through the damn hike.

Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was. He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek. His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.

It was intoxicating.

So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.

“Baby doll? Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee. “Need to taste you.”

His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head. “Fuck… Are you really this needy for me, angel? Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous… Look at you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. “Fucking shit… Good girl… Suck me off real good, baby.”

The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.

Not when you had your man so weak for you. And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.

His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you. He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.

Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting. You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband. All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.

You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy. When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering. Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.

“Fuck, fuck— Oh, shit… Baby— I’m gonna… I’m gonna—” Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat. His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip. “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away. “You were perfect, James…”

When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.

But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.

Your relationship with James was… wonderful.

It was easy in a way you’d never had before.

Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.

It was like you two were magnets. Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.

And he’d gotten you to start writing.

“It’s your dream, doll. You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed. His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why did you stop in the first place?”

Ah.

The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.

Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say. “Um… I was married before… I know you know, but, uh…” Your fingers fiddled together nervously. You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “My husband… He wasn’t… He wasn’t nice. At all.”

Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke. He didn’t need to speak for you to know. He was there and he wasn’t running.

“I married him young… and I had Josephine young… He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going. You needed to tell him this. You needed him to understand. “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent. He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”

James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you. He needed you close. Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.

“Put me in the hospital a few times… He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie. That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.” You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him. “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am… But she came home one day during college, to surprise us… She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again. She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder. It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours. “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”

“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close. “Thank you for telling me, doll… I… I can’t imagine how hard that was… But he’ll never touch you again. No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I love you. So much…”

A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax. “And I love you…”

After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face. “Time to get up… I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”

Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it. He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play. He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.

“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still. “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other.

Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.

“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet. His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall. Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.

What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.

“Mama?! What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her. “Who the fuck is this?! What is he doing here?!”

Oh.

Yeah.

You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.

“Hello. I’m James. Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.

“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.

But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.

Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”

You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed. “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one. You were so nervous, you were shaking.

“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.

“Um… The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said. Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.

Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief. No. Betrayal. “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I…” Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm. This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go. “I was scared… of how you’d react…”

At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours. “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah? So I’m gonna take—Danny, right? Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”

After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room. You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.

“Mama, I—”

“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.

Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak. In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man. More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “And I know… I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me. You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.” Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing. “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and… and he loves me. More than I thought anyone could ever love me. And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful. And I still need you. Everyday. But Bucky… I love him. I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”

Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers. “He… He makes you happy? He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yeah. He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh. “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey. I promise.”

“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”

Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer. He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.

“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.

God, she looked so much like you.

He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch. The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.

“Your mama loves you something fierce.” Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.

Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.

“And I love her.”

Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes. “I’m sure she’s told you about my father. What he did.”

“She did.”

“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”

“I do.”

She eyed him for a long moment. “What are you in this for? What’s the long term?” She asked. “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years. Is that what this is?”

Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended. He wasn’t that old. “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly. “I have no doubt you know who I am. But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.” His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think. “And I… I can say that everything I’ve been through… Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her. And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”

She looked absolutely speechless. “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat. “Good. I just… I can’t see her get hurt again. Not after everything.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry. “I… I actually have something to ask you about… Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”

Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying. But they were keeping it all very hushed.

“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you. “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine. She’s just gotta have her protective moment. You know how she is.”

Sniffling, you hugged her tightly. “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long… I was just so nervous… They both… They both mean the world to me.” You paused, snorting. “I knew you’d approve of him. I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead. “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you. He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”

Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already. “I’ve never felt something like this… But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him… I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”

You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy? “Well? You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.

“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile. “As far as dads go… He’d be pretty nice to have.”

“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll. It’s all good.”

You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee. “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”

“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face. Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room. “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”

“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake. “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss. “I love you.”

You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world. What you’d said to Josephine had been true.

“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.

You’d never been so happy.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader

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capt-spooki3 · 3 years

Text

By The Witch's Grace

Chapter One

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

It seems Y/n, a known and hated magic user in their small town, has a lot to deal with after the rowdy bunch that is Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy, show up at their door step in the midst of a giant snow storm...

Warning: Cursing, talk of hate/discrimination

2.6k words

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“Alright, we need flour, milk, apples... Uh no no stop meowing, please. Shit okay, flour, milk, apples, and what? Oh god, was it- oh! Bottles! Of course, geez.” Y/n laughs at themself before kneeling down, and pets the head of their cat who was demanding their attention. The little feline, who looked like a little toasted marshmallow, purred and meowed as she was happy with the much-needed attention.

“Alright Poppy, I’ll be back. Be a good little girl for me, okay? I’ll be back in time to give you supper I promise.” They baby talked to the cat with little forehead kisses before getting back up to their feet and reaching toward the wall where a large cloak was hung on a large nail next to the door. They threw on the heavy fabric and clasped the small glass button to keep it on their shoulders, their hand lingering as it passed over the glassy eye that permanently stayed on a chain around their neck. The result of a curse placed, not too long ago, that bound it to their person until death. Just the luck of someone who often plays with magic that they can barely comprehend.

The piece would pass as a decoration to any untrained eye, but to those who delved into the arts of magic, any one of them could tell you what this object was. With the deep and light greens with accents of blue and a cat-eye pupil that was forever staring, there was no mistaking an eye of ender. The object was rich in stored-up mana, but it was no joke. Even with the most skilled of mages, they had to be most cautious and limit their time interacting with the eye. The sooner they distanced themself from it the better as the eye has been heavily rumored to take possession of people who use its magic for too long. Mages long past wrote notes in books, Y/n as read countless times, on how the eye has influenced beings to cause great harm and destruction. Its motives are still unknown.

With the object on their person 24/7, they take caution every moment in case the eye decides it's time to take control. They hope it isn't any time soon.

Tucking the eye of ender under the latch of the cloak, they peeked outside to be met with chilled air kissing their cheeks. The bitter promise of snow.

More the reason to get their errands done as soon as they could to get back home. As if their life being in danger wasn’t the biggest reason to rush so they could hide again. They carefully pulled on their hood and hid as much of their features as they could within the cloak before stashing a satchel that jingled with coins and setting off through the door.

Being able to leave their distant home was always a treat, but also a constant threat to their life. They were never positive if they would return home after each venture. As a magic user, thoughtfully given the nickname of ‘Witch’ from the townsfolk, they weren’t liked much. They made the mistake of trying to show off their powers once before learning quickly that magic was despised among these people. It was only associated with the rich who treated people lower than them like they were dirt under their shiny boots. Luckily they still had a vendor in the town that sold to them, it was the only thing keeping them going.

After about a hour walk down a few winding forest paths that they carved out by themself after years of taking the same route, the port town was in view. Snow littered the ground to the sides of the dirt roads that they walked along and the small breeze that was present ran cold, the overcast sky promised a harsh amount of snow. That is bound to make next week fun. They sure were lucky to bring extra coins so they can stock up.

Once reaching the main town, they made sure to keep their head down and slip through the hundreds of bodies at the markets. It was all routine now, sadly. They took a turn down an alley that harbored a few stray cats and even a dog that scattered when they pressed on down the alley. Softly, they knocked a code to the shopkeep on the old wooden door.

The door just barely creaked open and an old green eye peered out. Y/n looked down to meet the weary eye peeking out at them and couldn't fight a smile. An old cackle rang out and the door opened up wide to an older woman. She was small and had all gray and white hair that was long and braided over her shoulder, but her eyes were alive and she was brimming with joy.

“Oh my little bird, how are you doing?” She said fondly with a slight German accent and Y/n knelt for the woman when she reached to hold their cheeks and look them over.

“I’m well Oma, thank you. You look as young as ever.” The kind words made the woman laugh and she put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh of contentment.

“So what do you need today? I just got in a big order of sugar if you want some.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful actually. I need flour, milk, and is Opa at his shop today? I need apples and he always has those bottles that I need.”

“Actually, he is home sick today,” She started and she walked into the shop to retrieve what Y/n needed. “He caught a small cold but he’ll be better soon. Wait just a moment and I’ll go grab everything.”

The lady went off on her way and Y/n sat on the doorstep, waiting and watching the people walk past the end of the alley. They cringed to themselves whenever they caught the word witch in some distant conversations, they seemed to be a tall tale at this point. At least they weren’t being actively hunted down anymore.

A few long minutes passed and there was a small thump that caught their attention in the shop, when they looked back there were two large sacks and no sign of the woman. Rest assured, after a few moments, the old lady was just barely managing to carry two more large sacks filled to the brim with the few things they had asked for plus much more as they usually only bring one sack home each trip.

“Oma! Oh no, I don’t have enough for all of this! Besides, I can’t possibly carry this all back home.”

“I know, I know. You’ll need it with the weather we have coming on tonight, as payment you can show me that magic you talked about last time. You know that… carrying magic..” She gestured wildly, trying her hardest to remember the word as Y/n stood back up.

“Oh, my spatial magic? I’m not too good at it, but I am sure I can manage this. Alright, are you ready?” They checked the alley for possible watching eyes before holding their hands out with their palms toward the bags.

The old woman stepped back and watched with excitement, her eyes practically sparkling already. Y/n closed their eyes and sucked in a deep breath, their hand flexing a bit and opening wider. A soft purple light began to emit from their hands and two thin, long arms that seemed to be made from the night sky itself stretched out and each hand touched the sack and engulfed it in darkness before retreating back within Y/n’s hands. They let out their held and concentrated breath with a deep sigh, their muscles and bones feeling heavy as they held some of the weight of the sacks within their being.

“That was amazing! Oh, you are so talented, I am so proud of you.” The woman said happily and walked forward, pulling Y/n down and kissing the head of the young mage she seemed to love. “Please hurry home now, stay safe. Opa and I love you and I hope to see you again soon.”

She waved them off and Y/n waved back, pulling their hood down more for precaution, and slipped into the crowd toward the road they took back home. They felt rather blessed they were able to make it home without even a scare.

They walked along the road, waiting to see their well-worn path as the heaviness of their body grew with walking uphill. Using magic like this weighed on the body and the soul with however much the individual was carrying. They reached up, pulling down the clasp to their cloak to reveal the eye of ender to the world. As much as they didn't want to rely on its power, it was the only way they would confidently make it home. Grasping the warm object tight, it pulsed with magic beneath their fingers as if it were alive, they sent their mana into the eye to mix and grant them a magic boost. They knew quite well the item was evil and no good to toy with, what else should one do when it's bound to them for life? With a soft purple glow to their eyes now, their body felt lighter and the strain to keep their goodies in a personal pocket in the dimension lifted almost completely. They shook off their bits of anxiety with the gain of power and picked up the pace to get home as small flurries were filling the air around them.

The walk back home was fast and they were beyond relieved upon opening the door and feeling the hug of the warm cottage and a string of excited meows when their familiar raced to greet them.

“Hey Poppy, miss me?” They stroked the cat before kneeling on the ground to perform the same technique of magic for consuming the sacks to spit them back out onto the ground in front of them and hummed a soft tune while they went through the goodies and put them in their respected places around the three stories of the home. Before they noticed it, the world outside had grown dark and they lit the lanterns around the house and peered through a window to see the snow blowing strongly and the wind howling, they hadn’t even gotten a chance to see the sunset. This was turning out to be a real blizzard, they did a silent prayer that it wouldn’t last long.

Just as Y/n was trying to put the last of the sugar away there was a heavy thump on the door followed by a hurried couple of knocks of which were all inconsistent but did the job of grabbing their attention. They fumbled with the sugar but safely put it down before hurrying to the door, their fast movements spooked the cat and caused her to scramble away to go hide.

Once getting the locks undone they opened up the door to see four individuals standing there, waiting. Two of the larger individuals there stood on the sides to frame the group in a way. The one on the left most who had shoulder-length pink hair and noticeable tusks sticking out from his bottom lip and inhuman down pointed ears, was using his large, red cloak to hold a blond boy who was about to his shoulder, against him and shield him from the snow. The two both had on heavy armor, though, the blond’s armor was a bit more leather than metal. On the other end stood a taller man with brown hair who also was in armor and was hunched over to be able to get covered by a large dark grey wing that held him. Said wings belonging to a man who was shorter than the brunette and had on expensive-looking mage robes and messy blond hair. The winged man looked to Y/n in desperation as he began to speak.

“Please let us stay for the night. We will leave as the sun rises, please just-”

“Stop talking- just come in. Hurry! It’s got to be below zero out there.” Y/n hurriedly ushered the bunch inside as they held the door open for them.

The burly pink-haired man was the first to make a move as he pushed the blond boy off of him and through the doorway and was already reaching over to push the brown-haired man next. He made sure the winged individual made his way in before going in. He looked at Y/n who was still holding the door and adjusted his jaw, a nervous habit it seemed, eyes darting around a bit before he returned his eyes to them and gave a nod of appreciation.

Y/n barley was able to get the door closed after him before they turned around and was assaulted with a hug from the winged man, he was incredibly cold. They hugged the man back, rubbing his back a little as he said many soft thank yous to them, though they watched the other three who stood close and looked around at the bottom portion of their home. The blond boy hugged himself close, shivering and the brunette rubbed his back as he looked around.

They hope they wouldn’t regret not thinking it through before letting a bunch of strange people into their home.

“I truly cannot thank you enough for this. We would have died out there.” The man said as he finally let go of Y/n and studied their face for a moment, looking for words it seemed. “We should introduce ourselves. I’m Phil and the big guy back there is Technoblade. The lanky one is Wilbur and the blond one between them is Tommy. They are my sons.”

Y/n watched them as Phil introduced them, each of them giving them some sort of little greeting when they were called. Whether it was a head nod or a little wave or a smile. They seemed nice.

“One hell of a family..” Y/n mumbled which Phil seemed quite funny and even Wilbur chuckled a bit.

“Oh yeah, but they are my boys.” He said while looking at the three with fondness.

The sweet moment was caught a little short when Technoblade crossed his arms, his body language screaming distrust. He looked down at Y/n and sized them up as he grumbled out a question that sounded more like a command. “What is your name. Who are you.”

“Techno- for god’s sake be a little nicer could ya? Bloody hell, they just saved us.” Wilbur retorted and Technoblade huffed a little growl and looked away. Wilbur gave a short and annoyed sigh, looking back at Y/n as he pulled his hand away from Tommy and instead rested a hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. It wasn’t meant to be seen as a threat, but the gesture did make Y/n a bit uneasy as they shuffled back a tad. Instead, he just spoke kindly with an inviting hand gesture.

“What is your name?” He stated and he and Phil looked at them expectantly.

They hesitated for a moment with the eyes on them and cleared their throat, standing taller. “My name is Y/n... it’s nice to meet all of you.” They thought for a moment about what they should say to these people who stood awkwardly, warming up from the cold. “How about I uh… go get some blankets for you all. Blankets and I’ll set up my two spare rooms.” They added as more of a side note to themselves than the group and hurried up the stairs to get things together.

This was going to be a long night. They can only hope the snow stops soon.

[Chapter Two]

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Hi!! Spooks here. Like the first chapter? Want to make sure you know when i post the next chapter and any after that?

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And thank you so much for reading!!

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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Note

recently rediscovered your blog and read the fic from your dad spy au where scout starts out as the "guard" and then becomes scout from there and lemme tell you that shit put me on some s-tier brainrot. like a cranial decay type beat.

i had a concept in my head that instead of being hired as a guard, he could have been hired as a right hand man to the administrator like pauling, because i think hed be awesome in that position. like imagine having a personal merc who can get in fast and out even faster. but maybe he would stay in the base like the rest of them, sort of like a secret on call intel gatherer, who also maybe sometimes has to dig a couple graves. and also like, nobody on the team expects anything from him at first because its this 20 year old newbie kid. hes dressed in his formal clothes and he talks like somebody from relatively around boston but not quite. i can just imagine one day he comes back during a team dinner with his shirt half untucked and stained with blood, hair disheveled as he asks soldier if he can borrow his shovel, or him debriefing them for a mission when miss pauling is busy. same vibe as the fic i mentioned before but scout gets to have a job as cool as miss paulings. honestly id write it myself if i didnt have the attention span of a fly

anyways your scout content gives me life thank you

scout teamfortress but 20% more competent standing next to miss pauling teamfortress while she's doing her job and doing like silly quips and otherwise contributing nothing like it's a buddy cop film is literally my fucking ideal

(warnings for some canon-typical violence)

“Oh, Pauling, it’s good to see you again,” greeted the chairman, smiling in an imitation of a grandfather and clasping her hands perhaps too-kindly considering she barely knew him. “Young as ever, and still so stylish, I see. And who’s the new fellow?”

“He’s just here to help with transport, Mr. Montgomery, nothing unusual,” Miss Pauling replied, returning his smile and adjusting her glasses. “Heavy cases, you know how it is.”

“Of course, I remember you almost toppling clean over last time we made a trade!” Montgomery agreed, frowning at the memory. “You’ll pull a muscle that way, better to be careful. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. And your name?”

“Mr. Normandy, sir,” the new kid replied easily enough despite his slight East Coast accent, giving the man a firm handshake, expression neutral and stony, the picture of professionalism. Internally, Pauling breathed a sigh of relief.

“Firm grip there, young man,” Montgomery praised, nodding approvingly. “Tennis player, perhaps? Or golf?”

“Baseball, sir,” he replied, still evenly. “First baseman.”

“Ah! Of course! Were you any good?” Montgomery joked.

“At everything but playing in front of the crowds, otherwise I’d be in the major leagues,” he replied, tilting his head just slightly to imply that he was joking, his sunglasses glinting at the movement, and Montgomery barked a laugh.

“I like this one, Miss Pauling!” Montgomery said, and Pauling just barely caught herself from physically relaxing at it.

“We do too, Mr. Montgomery,” she agreed. “I was under the impression that you’re very busy today, so we won’t keep you for too long, we just wanted to sort out the final details surrounding the manufacturing rights for the—“

“—Pacific Northwest branch, up into British Columbia and Alberta, of course,” Montgomery agreed, nodding faintly. “Of course, of course.” He turned to regard his own man in a dark suit, the one standing to the right, who appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to stare down Normandy, who was completely ignoring him. “My briefcase, please.”

The man handed over the briefcase, and Montgomery put it on his desk, opening it and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “All our requests are submitted and approved, at this point we just had a few dustbins to take care of regarding initial percentages and making sure everything is wired to the correct accounts, which names are undisclosed, things like that,” Pauling explained as he glanced through the papers.

“Right, right, everything looks good here,” the man murmured, nodding to himself, sending his long-white hair just ever-so-slightly out of place. “I’m assuming these more sensitive documents should be sent some way besides through the mail?”

“If you finish them today I can take them with me, otherwise either me or Mr. Normandy can return to pick them up at your convenience,” she replied, to which Normandy gave a singular nod.

“Oh, it would only take me a short while,” Montgomery said, waving a hand. “We have a lovely lounge just down the hall from here if you’d prefer to wait there, it should only take me ten, fifteen minutes at most. In the meantime, I do believe there’s also the manner of payment for services rendered.”

Miss Pauling tilted her head just slightly to one side, confused.

“I arranged with Helen already,” Montgomery explained, not looking up from where he was initialing a few things. “The payment, rather than being wired, she asked to be made in material investment. A venture of mine from years ago that she’s willing to sit on. Rather than gold or bonds, she agreed to take some old currency of mine that my family collected, from early 18th century New Zealand and Australia. Monetarily it’s worth around the same, and I’m quite a bit attached to it to be entirely frank, but it was at her request to buy the whole collection from me, and after years of the work we’ve been doing together, well, I’d never trust it with anyone else.”

He gestured to the other man, the one on his left, who stepped forward to hand him a manila envelope, which he passed to Pauling.

“Inside is both keys, the door alarm codes, and all other security information for the building where the collection is being stored. They’ll ask for a few codes and confirmation of identity, only because several other art collections and artifacts are being stored there by other affluent individuals such as myself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling said, taking the envelope gratefully.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Helen talked me into it all her own,” he said easily enough. “Now, gentlemen, if you would let Miss Pauling and Mr. Normandy into our lounge? I should have these wrapped up before any of us can even think about lunch, eh?”

One of the suits showed the two of them through the doors and down the hallway, through two doors bracketed by similar suits who simply nodded politely at Pauling and ticked their chins at Normandy as they passed them.

Normandy posted up beside the door for all of three seconds before they shut and Pauling pulled her glasses up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and making a vaguely distressed noise. He then promptly relaxed, instead leaning his hip against an armchair probably worth the same amount as a small car. “So, uh, we’re glad that he’s giving us a bunch of commemorative coins from when dinosaurs still walked the earth?” he asked just below normal speaking volume, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. Very glad. Because unlike about six people total on the planet, he hasn’t figured out yet how valuable those are.”

“What, is a picture of a kangaroo on some copper really gonna make up for a couple hundred thousand American dollars?” Normandy asked, sounding doubtful.

“Not copper. Something else,” she replied. “I can’t tell you much more about it other than that, but these coins are made of something priceless to us. And to the Administrator.”

“…Love? Memories? The magic of family?” he joked, cracking a smile, and she rolled her eyes, moving to open the envelope and start reading the papers inside. “Hey, uh, not to question whether my job should exist, but what the hell am I doing here, exactly? Besides carrying a briefcase. Like, chivalry isn’t dead but I really don’t think you need me carrying your bags and holding the door for you.”

“You’re helping with security, basically,” she replied, adjusting her glasses to squint at tiny handwriting about the collection. “Mr. Montgomery is trustworthy, but he mostly hires out to… well, people like us. His security detail is mostly people we’d rather have screened, freelancers, stuff like that. A lot of people we contract out to are like that. Most of them have heard about me and know better than to try and pull something, since I can hold my own pretty well, but if they haven’t, seeing a second person might persuade them to think it over again.”

“Oh, so I’m like, uh, when it says ‘tow zone’ next to the no parking signs even though nobody checks, or when they’ve got a camera in the corner of the store that isn’t even plugged into anything,” he said, and the looked up at him, confused. “Like, uh, what’s the word… I’m a casual deterrent.”

“Sure,” she said, because it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, shuffling the papers back away and closing the envelope again, making a note to ask the Administrator if she should change their current containment procedures to be closer to Mr. Montgomery’s. “Just… if there’s a fight, you deal with it, otherwise you just stand there and look like you’re paying attention.”

“That’s what the sunglasses are for,” he agreed. “I was blinking morse code at the guy across from me literally the whole time.”

“You know morse code?” Pauling asked, surprised.

“Just the alphabet, ‘S.O.S.’, and ‘ass’.”

She rolled her eyes again, and that’s when the door opened.

She expected Mr. Montgomery, not one of the men in suits. “Excuse me, both of you, if you don’t mind,”the man said, accent having the slightest English tilt to it, a Londoner if Pauling had to guess. “You’re Miss Pauling, the Mann Co. affiliate, yes?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, hesitant, and glanced at Normandy.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. Mr. Montgomery have you the wrong envelope on accident,” the man said apologetically, extending a hand forward. “We apologize for this unfortunate mix-up, it’s really quite embarrassing, but those documents are sensitive and we’ll be needing to see them back now.”

Pauling looked at him, and within a moment, shifted her expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she agreed, nodding. “No, right, of course. These aren’t the papers for the currency collection?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Brit agreed, head tilting just slightly, hand still extended, moving a fraction further forward.

“Well, thank goodness we figured out now and not with us halfway back,” she joked, and moved to hold the folder closer to her body. “I’ll take this right back to Mr. Montgomery, then.”

“He’s sent me to correct the error,” the man explained simply.

“Right,” she said, and saw in her periphery that Normandy had already started sneaking a hand in towards his primary, clearly having pieced together something she was only suspecting. “We can bring this to his office, then, right down the hall.”

“You misunderstand,” the man said, taking a step forward again. “I’ll be taking it to his office myself.”

“That’s funny,” Pauling said. “I didn’t realize you had clearance to be in there. Or to be carrying a semi-automatic instead of a standard handgun.”

The Brit reached for the semi-automatic, and before he could even get it out properly, Normandy hit one clean shot to the side of his head and another to his thigh, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Pauling had only as far as pulling her own handgun free, thumb on the safety, and breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Normandy, shifting to more comfortably hold her gun. “Quick reflexes,” she noted.

“Just noticed a lot sooner, maybe,” he shrugged, stepping forward to glance over the body, tucking his gun back away.

“What was your hint?”

“He’s here to give us the right folder, yeah? Well, why were his hands empty, then?”

She was just starting to nod and realize that as well when a second man shouldered through the door, holding a gun at the ready. Normandy scrambled to draw his own, but Pauling fired a shot into his knee, shoulder, and neck to send him dropping before he was even close. “There’s quick on the draw, and then there’s prepared,” she said pointedly. “Gotta think of if there’s more than one, new guy.”

He nodded, and drew his gun again, bending to hit the guy on the ground at the temple hard enough to knock him out if he wasn’t unconscious already. He then glanced up at the sound of a shout from the other side of the door, two men shouldering through, guns drawn but lowered. It was only the firm eye contact they made with both her and Normandy that made her pause the millisecond it took to realize these ones weren’t trying to kill them.

“Pauling, what on earth is going on here?!” Montgomery demanded, entering the room and staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. “What could’ve possessed you to—“

“He was trying to run off with these documents,” she explained quickly, gesturing with the envelope. “He knew whatever was in here was valuable.”

“He drew his gun, sir,” Normandy added, tipping his head down towards the body, and Pauling glanced down as well and found herself a little surprised. He’d rearranged the man just slightly, apparently, adjusting the arm to be holding the gun a bit further outward. “Other one was aiming to kill.”

“My, my,” Montgomery tsk’d, shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. “What a mess. My apologies, Miss Pauling, Mr. Normandy.”

“It’s alright, but you need to start doing more thorough checks on your staff, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling stressed.

“He’s only been here two weeks, sir, he was one of the men we hired in a hurry after the incident last month,” one of the bodyguards said, and Montgomery shook his head.

“Thank goodness nobody was hurt,” he sighed. “Mutiny, and besides that, they’re bleeding on my carpet. Here are those papers, Miss Pauling—what a day, eh?”

“It’s really alright, we handled it,” Pauling assured him, giving her bravest smile, a little exasperated now.

“Right, right, you and the first baseman,” he agreed, and Normandy fought back an actual smile.

“If you’d like, we can take care of those for you,” Pauling said, gesturing at the bodies. “To pay you back for the carpet and the scare.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Montgomery agreed, clearly relieved.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed, by the way,” Normandy was so helpful as to say on the way back up the path to the base. “And you’re fielding that.”

“About the suit, or the fight?” she asked, glancing at his clothes where he was somewhat covered in a fine dusting of mud and grime from the gravedigging, shovel still in his free hand.

“Both. Mostly the fight. Your fault for saying it’d be an easy one to start with,” he said.

“If it was going to be that much of a problem, you wouldn’t have gotten this job. I’d just have made you go do dishes all day or something,” Pauling replied.

“Point taken,” he said, walking ahead to get the door, holding it open for her. “Wait, we’re allowed to mention what we do, right? Just not names?”

“Or locations, even with travel distance. Round up to the hour if it comes up,” she replied.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, trailing a step behind her as she led the way through the base.

In the common area, there was a bit of a ruckus happening. Soldier, Heavy, and Demo appeared to be having some kind of arm wrestling competition on a rapidly-toppling table, the Engineer was on a stepstool trying to fix the ceiling fan, and Sniper appeared to be half-watching the beginnings of an argument between Pyro and the Spy regarding use of the oven as Medic patched up a burn on his arm.

“Hullo,” Sniper greeted the two of them, sounding a little bored, Medic giving them a brief, polite nod. Normandy’s eyebrows were raised pretty far as he surveyed the room.

“Hi, Sniper,” she greeted in return, then cleared her throat, raised her voice. “Team meeting in five minutes! New mission for next week!”

Groans from the room at large, the eight mercenaries starting to finish up what they were doing and filing out. Spy moved over, glancing over Normandy and starting to talk to him in rapid-fire French, picking smaller bits of gravel off of his suit as they walked.

“Alright,” she addressed the room, Normandy peeling off from getting mother hen’d by Spy to stand next to the blackboard with her. “Monday, you’re all going on a transport mission. Getting the truck from point A to point B with everything in the boxes intact. Already we’ve had to put up with some people trying to get ahold of these things, so bring your guns.”

“Oh, our guns, you said? Lads, this is a serious one, keep your heads on a feckin' swivel, she’s sayin’ we might even need guns, can you believe it?” Demo faux-gasped, and chuckled when Spy bopped him on the arm, rolling his eyes at the Scot's theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off, flipping through the papers a bit. “So Engie, I’ll need the keys to the truck, me and Normandy are going to be loading those tomorrow, all of you need to be at this drop point bright and early.”

“How early?” Heavy rumbled.

“Six. Hour and a half of drive from here.”

Some complaints from the room that she sighed at.

“Hey, hey, calm the hell down,” Normandy cut in, and she glanced over at him where he had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. “You chuckleheads get to have all eight of you to unload the damn thing, me and Miss P gotta do all the rest of this on our own and probably kill twenty guys on the way there and back. She had to be up at 6 AM, workin’ since 7 AM, lunch break at noon and nothin’ else, and we just got back now at, what, fuckin’, 10, 11 PM? Any of you work her shift and then see if you even got the energy to complain about wakin’ up early, how about that?”

The room went utterly devoid of complaint or backsass. “Thank you, Normandy,” she said politely, and he just nodded once, glancing off to the side. “Anyways, anything new on this end? Spy, how are you adjusting?”

“Very well,” he said simply. “I have nothing pressing to say. Once I’ve been updated from the stock weaponry provided here to my requested preferred weaponry, I believe I should do just fine.”

“I see you already have Herr Normandy digging graves,” Medic chimed in. “Straight into the hard labor, ja?”

“Eh, hey, y’know, it’s why they keep us young people around,” he shrugged, grinning, and there was a brief uproar to drown out Medic’s entirely offended scoffing and Spy’s snort-laughing.

“Get ‘im, lad!” Demo cheered, and Normandy indeed looked fairly proud of himself.

“Monday, transport mission,” Pauling noted over the noise, writing it up on the chalkboard to hide her own smile from the room. “Normandy, you and me are doing the boxes tomorrow. Everyone on the same page? Good. Dismissed. Oh, and Pyro—stop taking the fire alarms down when they beep. They’re beeping because you light things on fire in the base. Do that outside.”

“Oh, hey, uh, helmet guy, All-American Beef,” Normandy called, and Soldier straightened up. “Here’s your shovel back. Gettin’ my own tomorrow.”

 Soldier walked directly over to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high honor, Cadet,” he said, tone grave. “Do not take this responsibility lightly.”

“I, uh, I won’t?” he said hesitantly, and blinked a few times as the shovel was carefully taken from him before it was promptly marched from the room in double-time. Only then did Normandy look over at her. “So he’s always like that?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured, dusting chalk from her hands. “You should get to sleep soon, we have to be up early.”

“Sure thing, Miss P.”

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #dad!spy #father-son bonding au #shut up me #que?#in this au he picks a fake name like she does. later i think demo starts calling him norman and some of the others do as well as goofs #also apologies for montgomery i couldnt quite get away with not naming random rich guy. just barely scraped by with guards one through four #everybody talks

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 20

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 20 - This Venerable One Will Tell You a Story (Part 2)

Early the next morning, the members of the Chen family walked back from their relatives and saw that the orange tree in their courtyard had fallen down and the oranges were spread all over the ground. There weren't many other residents around here. They were only close with the Luo family. When they thought of how Luo Xianxian drooled over those oranges every day, the Chen family were sure——

The oranges must have been stolen by that bastard child, Luo Xianxian!

Not only did she steal them but she got jealous and chopped down their orange tree!

The Chen family immediately went to Luo Shusheng to complain. Luo Shusheng couldn't bear such humiliation. He immediately called his daughter over and asked her angrily if she stole the oranges.

Luo Xianxian cried and said no.

He asked if she had cut the tree down.

Again, Luo Xianxian said no.

He asked her if she had eaten the oranges.

Luo Xianxian couldn't lie so she had to admit that she did.

Before she could explain, her furious father ordered her to kneel down. She was beaten with a ruler in front of the Chen family. While he beat her, he said: "Raising a daughter is much worse than raising a sun! At such a young age, how could you do such a thing? Shame on you! You disgraced your father! As punishment, you won't have anything to eat today and you'll face the wall for three days. Think about your mistakes and repent--"

"Dad, it wasn't me! It really wasn't me!"

"How dare you talk back to me!"

No one believed her. Although the Lower Cultivation World was in chaos Caidie Town was an exception. The town had always been simple and honest, no one locked their door. What was she supposed to say; that a bloody lunatic ran in in the middle of the night? Who would believe it?

Luo Xianxian's small hands were split open from the beating.

The members of the Chen family looked at her coldly. Only the oldest boy among them, pulling at the corner of his mother's clothes, hesitated to speak.

His mother ignored him and there was nothing he could do about it. The boy's small face scrunched up. He couldn't bear it, and he stood off to the side, unwilling to look anymore.

At night, Luo Xianxian didn't dare go back to her room, squatting under the eaves of her house, standing pitifully.

Her father was a scholar and couldn't tolerate stealing. Moreover, he had a rotten and sour aura, and he was stubborn, unwilling to listen to explanations.

Luo Xianxian's head was dizzy after a day with no food. Suddenly someone whispered to her: "Miss Luo."

Luo Xianxian turned his head and saw a well-groomed head protruding from the edge of the dirt wall. It was Chen Bohuan, the eldest son of the Chen family who tried to help her plead her case earlier.

Chen Bohuan did a couple checks over the dirt wall to make sure no one was watching. He was carrying a hot steamed bun in his arms, and without saying a word, he shoved it into her hand.

"I know you've been standing by the wall all day and haven't eaten anything. Here's a steamed bun. Hurry up and eat it."

"I..." Luo Xianxian had always been shy. She had lived here for several months and had never spoken to her neighbour's son. Now, they were so close together that she inadvertently took a few steps back and banged her head against the wall. Still, she stammered out: "I couldn't. . . Dad won't let me. . . He said. . ."

She was incoherent and couldn't even form a complete sentence.

Chen Bohuan said: "Oh, your father's watching you at all times? What do you care what he's doing? If you're hungry, don't starve yourself. Eat it. If you don't, it'll get cold."

The steamed bun was soft and white, looking so enticing, steam rising from it.

Luo Xianxian looked down and stared for a while, taking a large gulp.

She was so hungry, too. Regardless of whether she was supposed to be a gentleman or not, she grabbed the steamed bun and inhaled it, gobbling it up in no time.

After eating it, she raised her round eyes and rushed to explain to Chen Bohuan: "I didn't cut down the orange tree, and I try to steal any."

Chen Bohuan was taken aback, and slowly smiled: "Okay."

"But they don't believe me. . ." With such an emotional gaze, Luo Xianxian's heart slowly opened, her anger melting away like snow. She wailed, her mouth wide open. She wiped her tears and wept loudly: "None of them believe me. . . I didn't steal. . . I didn't. . ."

Chen Bohuan patted her back: "I know you didn't steal it. Like come on, you stand under the tree and stare at it every day yet you never took an orange. You would've stolen some a long time ago. . ."

"I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" Her crying became more fierce, tears and snot rolling on her face.

Chen Bohuan consoled her: "You didn't do it, you didn't do it."

The two children got to know each other very well.

Later, there was a murder in a neighbouring village. A few nights ago, a bandit covered in blood entered a family's home and wanted to borrow the family's bedroom to sleep. When the man did not agree, the bandit stabbed the family to death. Then, in the room full of corpses, he slept peacefully and leisurely left the next day during the daylight. He left and even left a message written in blood on the wall. He wrote out a large message, detailing everything he had done to make sure the world knew that an evil individual like him existed.

This tragedy immediately spread like wildfire, and soon reached Caidie Town. That was the night Luo Xianxian admitted she had met "Mr. Madman".

Luo Shusheng and the Chen family were speechless.

After the misunderstanding was cleared up, the two families were in much closer contact. The Chen family saw that Luo Xianxian was cute hardworking little beauty. They thought that, based on their current situation, it would be difficult to find a daughter-in-law, so they quickly arranged the marriage of Chen Bohuan and Luo Xianxian. Once they reached adulthood, they would officially be wed.

When Luo Shusheng saw his daughter and Chen Bohuan were good childhood friends, so he readily agreed.

As the days passed, if it weren't for Luo Shusheng's love of elegance and fragrance, then the Chen and Luo families would live lives of poverty and tranquillity as they had originally expected.

Unfortunately, Luo Shusheng accidentally made the "Hundred Butterfly Fragrance Powder".

Although the scent of the powder was nothing special and it wasn't much different from the typical powders in town, it had a benefit that ordinary powders didn't——

It could last for a hundred days with a neverending afterglow.

Hundred Butterfly Fragrance Powder lasted for a long time and it didn't wear off easily. It was exactly what everyday people were looking for in terms of good quality and low price.

Luo Shusheng, Mr. "Everything is inferior; the only excellence is in academia." Even though he made the powder, he didn't want to sell it, thinking that he "would lose his identity."

If he didn't sell it, naturally others will worry about it.

Madam Chen repeatedly tried to get the recipe out of him and urged Luo Shusheng to open a shop, but she was always rejected. After going back and forth, Madam Chen got embarrassed, so she stopped bringing it up, but she silently always kept it in mind.

The year Luo Xianxian reached adulthood, the opportunity came. Luo Shusheng's sickly body had contracted tuberculosis. He suffered for a few days then died. As Luo Xianxian's in-laws, even though she wasn't officially their daughter-in-law yet, they were still close friends, so they got busy helping her arrange the funeral.

Luo Xianxian burst into tears of gratitude. What she didn't know was that Madam Chen had a plan to quietly walk away with the secret powder recipe while she packed up Luo Shusheng's things.

That night, Madam Chen, under the light of a soybean oil lamp, was full of excitement, ready to read the recipe. After only one glance, she was at a loss.

Luo Shusheng's words danced across the page, calligraphy that typically would be considered elegant and unrestrained. She stared at it for a long time, but she couldn't understand half of the words.

She had no choice but to return the recipe quietly.

A few months later, after Luo Xianxian had a chance to grieve, she invited the girl over to their house for dinner and "inadvertently" mentioned the Hundred Butterfly Fragrance Powder in a passing conversation.

Luo Xianxian thought to herself there was no point in keeping the recipe at home. Her mother-in-law treated herself so well. If she wanted it, she'd give it to her.

So she found it her father's things and helped Madam Chen to distinguish the individual characters and sort out the precise recipe.

Madam Chen was ecstatic. When she got the recipe, she and her husband opened a perfume shop together.

Of course, she was still very fond of her gentle and sensible prospective daughter-in-law. The more Luo Xianxian grew, the more beautiful she became. Although her family was unfortunate, her looks were some of the best in town and many young people in the town began to pay attention to her.

A long night is filled with dreams*, Madam Chen thought to herself. They'd need to hurry and secure the marriage.

*(T/N: 夜长梦多 - means that the longer something is put off, the more likely something will happen before you're able to do it)

However, Luo Xianxian just lost his father. According to the custom of Caidie Town, she couldn't get married for three years after the death of her parent.

How could Madam Chen wait for three years? She deliberated and thought of a way--

One day, Luo Xianxian was braiding the hair of the Chen's family young daughter. She had a very good relationship with the youngest Chen daughter. Luo Xianxian pulled the hair over and under and the braid trailed down her back.

Madam Chen walked into the courtyard and called Luo Xianxian to the inner hall. She said to her: "Xianxian, you and Bohuan were childhood sweethearts and had a marriage arranged. Now that your father is gone, you must be lonely. It can't be easy living by yourself. You should be getting married this year. But we have the three-year mourning period, so you can't get married, so I got thinking: if you wait for three years, how old are you going to be?

Luo Xianxian lowered her head. She didn't say anything but she was clever and could guess what Madam Chen was insinuating. Her cheeks grew slightly red.

Sure enough, Madam Chen went on to say:

"Living alone must be so difficult and tiring. How about this - you two get married behind closed doors. No one needs to know. If anyone asks, just say that you're living with your auntie to help care for her and preparing to be her daughter-in-law. This will not only complete the wedding rituals without the worry of being criticized, but also give your father some peace in the underworld. After the three-year period is up, we'll have a beautiful proper wedding for you two, alright?"

Her remarks sounded like she cared about Luo Xianxian. Luo Xianxian was a person who always saw the best in others and would never think badly about someone else so she agreed.

Later, the Chen family made a fortune by selling the Hundred Butterfly Fragrance Powder. They moved out of their old house, bought a large piece of land in the town, built a mansion on it, and became a powerful family.

Luo Xianxian had become a shadow among the many figures of the large household, an infrequent presence.

People in the town thought that Luo Xianxian had been taken in by Madam Chen, so she lived in the Chen house. They didn't know that she was actually married to Chen Bohuan.

Although it wasn't perfect, Luo Xianxian thought that her mother-in-law was doing this for her own good so that people didn't gossip, so she didn't complain. In addition, Chen Bohuan was dear to her, the couple living a sweet and fulfilling life. They only need to wait for the three-year period to pass then everything would return to normal.

But Luo Xianxian didn't wait for the day of the official wedding.

The Chen family business was growing larger and larger. In addition, Chen Bohuan was handsome. Not just in Caidie Town but even the daughters of the big families in the surrounding towns had begun to play with the idea of marrying Young Master Chen. With this development, Madam Chen's mind was racing.

Back then, she decided to secure Luo Xianxian because she thought she wouldn't be able to find a good daughter-in-law when they were nothing but a farming family.

Who would have thought that the heavens would bless the Chen family and allow them to soar into high society? Now, when she looked back at Luo Xianxian, she felt that the girl was not good-looking enough and she wasn't intelligent enough. Like her dead father, she was unpleasant to look at.

She regretted it a bit.

The appearance of Yao Qianjin turned her "a bit" into "a lot".

Yao Qianjin is the daughter of the county magistrate. She loved men in positions. One day she returned from hunting on a horse. She passed by an incense shop and picked out a few fragrance powders. It didn't matter what fragrances she picked out, but she caught a glimpse of the busy handsome young man in the hall.

The gentleman was no other than Luo Xianxian's husband, Chen Bohuan.

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#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi novel #yaoi #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Best Christmas Present [Sirius Black x Reader] - Heloise’s Christmas Calendar - Requested

December 18 - Best Christmas Present [Sirius Black x Reader]

Title: Best Christmas Present Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader Word count: 3.1k Published: 18 December, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: This is part of Heloise’s Christmas Calendar. Summary: Sirius goes back to you after he has escaped Azkaban. But when he finds you with a son, he wants nothing but to escape the heartbreak, not even listening to your explanation. Request: [x] - Anonymous

“When you have time could you please do a Sirius X Reader, where he meets his Girlfriend again.Obviously He is afraid that she might have a new man in her Life,...At one day she arrives at Grimmauldplace with her son (Looks Like her) and Sirius Heart Breaks into pieces, while she has to explain that it is his son. #drama :)”

Heloise’s Christmas Calendar Masterlist

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You were running up and down in the kitchen, from the stove to the fridge, from the cupboards to the table. You were preparing the dinner for Christmas Eve, a chaotic tension running through you as you tried to keep yourself organised. As Albert Einstein, a muggle scientist said in a book you’ve read; “Order is for idiots, genius can handle chaos”. You prided yourself in always getting things done, even in the midst of all the unfortunate events that could possibly occur.

Your mince pies were all done, still cooling down on the top of the counter with your Yorkshire puddings chilling beside them. Mulled wine brewed on one side of the stove, whilst the turkey slowly cooked in the oven. You chopped up your ingredients for the perfect roast potatoes and placed them in the oven, right above the turkey.

You always preferred cooking the old-fashioned, muggle way, no magical touch until the washing up. But at times, you found it calming and tossed your wand aside, thinking your day through whilst doing the dishes.

Christmas music blasted from the background, an old muggle radio playing the most popular Christmas songs. Traditional English Christmas dinner was cooking in the kitchen, traditional Christmas songs playing in your living room, traditional Christmas stocking hanging above the fireplace, traditional Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room decorated in red, gold and green.

You loved Christmas and since you haven’t been alone for a long time, it was always a special day for you to celebrate it to the best of your abilities, mixing old traditions with new traditions, muggle word with wizarding world.

You heard the knocker on your door, making you frown as you looked up at the giant antique clock above the entrance of the kitchen. You still had about two hours before the order members were supposed to arrive. The turkey and the potato were still in the oven, your mulled wine only halfway finished sitting on the stove.

You walked across the hall, peaking into the living room with a small smile on your face as you headed to the black, wooden entrance door of your flat. You looked through the peephole, but there was noone outside. You opened the door reluctantly, hand on your wand, tucked inside your back pocket as you peaked out of the tiny gap between the door and its frame.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you recognised the man in front of you. His hair grew longer, his face got skinnier, his body exposed under the white button up shirt, covered in tattoos you have not seen before. You loudly gasped at the sight of the man as you opened the door wider in your shocked state.

“Hey-” he greeted you with a shy smile, one that you were not used to from the proudest, most confident man you have ever met. But that was 13 years ago, before his incarceration in Azkaban.

“Sirius.” You breathed, your lips and tongue unable to cooperate with the hundreds of questions swirling around in your confused mind.

You were both standing in the door awkwardly, none of you saying a word. You couldn’t make a coherent sentence and Sirius didn’t dare to interrupt you from processing the situation.

You felt your heartbeat in your throat, your palms sweating as you held onto the doorknob. You watched the man you once loved more than your own life, standing right in front of you and now you didn’t know what to say, what to do, you didn’t even know where to put your hands in your shocked state.

You knew he escaped Azkaban, it wasn’t a secret. You knew he was in hiding, Remus told you what happened in Hogwarts, but he never came looking for you and you thought you would never see him again. Noone knew where he was, only that he left Europe.

Thinking he forgot about you was easier than to face him and getting rejected after waiting for him for so long. So you stayed still. Deep down you wished your thoughts were simply a game your mind was playing against you, but now that he stood in front of you, you didn’t even dare to breathe, afraid of scaring the man away.

“I’m sorry, come in.” The words rolled off your tongue without your knowledge, your head was in a different space. Sirius smiled lightly as he stepped inside and waited for you to walk him wherever you could talk. You headed towards the kitchen, offering him a chair as you walked to the stove and stirred your mulled wine absentmindedly. “I knew you escaped, but you never showed.” You blurted it out as the spoon fell out of your hand, onto the stove. You didn’t care about the cutlery, you turned around, your gaze firmly fixed on his grey eyes, ones that you always found to be his unique trait.

“I wanted to, but-“ he cut himself off, trying to search for the right words. Both of you were afraid of saying something wrong, dancing on the edge of every word that left your lips.

“You were scared.” He nodded as you finished his sentence.

“I was scared that you had- someone else in your life. That- maybe you didn’t-“ his words didn’t seem to come easy and if anyone, you understood the best. You were struggling with what to say and even how to say it.

“-love you anymore?” You finished his sentence once again, making him smile lightly.

“Yes.” He breathed in a silent whisper, his words inaudible, but you could read the word of his lips.

“Mom.” A young teenage boy ran out of the living room with an envelope in his hands, a carbon copy of you. Same hair colour, same facial structure, even to the last little mole, he was a boyish version of you. “We got a letter from Uncle Remus.” He shouted as he ran up to you, his hand holding the envelope up, reaching towards you.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the boy, before your gaze wandered to the man seated across the table. A shaky breath left your lungs as you took the envelope from the boy and engulfed him in a hug, hinting a small kiss on the top of his head. “Mom!” He whined, trying to get out of your hold, making you chuckle. You let go of him as he turned around, his gaze meeting with Sirius’.

The man looked shocked beyond belief, his lips widely parted, his eyes dilated, his hands grabbing the side of the table, making his fingers paler by the second. He scoffed as his eyes grew even wider and stood up from the table ready to leave.

“James, can you please go to the living room?” You asked your son, although reluctantly but he headed to the other room.

“You named him James?” Sirius turned back with a dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, of course.” You replied with a deep frown, clear confusion sitting across your face. “Sirius, please sit back and let’s talk.”

“What else do you want to talk about?” He shook his head as he headed towards the door, his back hunched, his jaw clenched. “I never understood why Remus kept nagging me to see you. I knew it was a bad idea and I was right all along. I shouldn’t have listened to him, I shouldn’t have come here.” He stated weakly, his voice breaking.

“Sirius can you just stop for a second and listen to me?” You asked as he reached for the doorknob, but you took your wand out and as soon as he opened the door, you closed it right back. “I promise you, if you don’t like what you hear, I will let you go, and we will never ever search for you.” You replied as the tears started rushing down your reddened cheeks. “But let me tell you what’s going on before you come to any wrong conclusions.” You choked as you tried to keep your sobs down, before the only person you have ever loved disappeared from your life once again.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asked weakly, pulling on the doorknob, but it didn’t budge. “I couldn’t possibly ask you to wait for 13 years and even if I can’t show it at the moment, I am happy for you for moving on, for finding someone you love, for building a family, but please let me out.” He was pleading for you to let him go, but you didn’t give in.

“Sirius, can you please look at me?” You asked the man who stood with his back to you, his hands painfully holding the doorknob in his grasp. A deep, loud sigh left his lungs as he turned around, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes glistening of the unshed tears. You took a couple of steps forward to get closer to him but kept a safe distance in case he was ready to leave by the end of what you were about to reveal. “I haven’t had anyone since you.” You confessed, as you watched the man frown in confusion, before his eyes grew wide in surprise.

“What? But your son-“ he began, but his words stuck in him, his mouth agape.

“He is 12 years old.” You nodded in confirmation.

“He is my-“ Sirius started once again, but he was incapable of finishing a coherent sentence, his heart beating at a dangerous speed, his head a mess of confused thoughts.

“Yes, he is yours.” You nodded robotically, trying to refrain yourself from showing anymore emotions. You wanted to jump into his neck and kiss him, you wanted to bring out your son to introduce them to each other, but deep down you were terrified he would reject both his son and you.

You never talked about family back then and whilst you loved each other passionately, warmly, sweetly, you never knew how he would react if you announced that you were expecting his baby.

“I wanted to tell you, before all those horrible events happened, but I kept pushing it further and further, afraid of losing you, scared that you wouldn’t want the baby. By the time I felt ready to speak to you, everything came down crumbling and we lost Lily and James, whilst you were sent to Azkaban and Remus was struggling to even make enough money to live. It was- a terrible time.” You exhaled as you looked down on the dark carpet covering your hallway, reliving that horrible night and all the events that followed after. Your tears started again, rolling down your cheeks, soaking your skin in the salty liquid. Your breath hitched before you could continue.

“I knew you escaped, I knew you were hiding somewhere, noone knew where. Although even if I knew, I wouldn’t have gone to look for you. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me, that you forgot about me and whilst it breaks my heart to think about it, if that’s the case, I accept that. But I need you to tell me that you don’t want us, otherwise I will keep hoping.” Your voice broke as you finished your monologue, hoping for the man in front of you to say that he needed you, that he wanted his son, that he couldn’t be happier to be beside you.

“I thought you already had someone else. I never thought you’d be waiting.” He shook his head, stunned.

“I was. I was waiting for you, Sirius, even if at times I thought you would never leave that hellhole, even if at times it was terrifying to be a single mom, even if at times I thought I would never see your face again. I was waiting even when you escaped, even when I thought you didn’t think of me anymore.” You confessed with a small smile playing in the corner of your lips. The fact that he was still standing in front of you, instead of running away, made you feel hopeful.

“I never forgot about you, I was just scared to search for you and turn your life upside down, especially when I thought you have moved on already. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think of you, but I had to shove it into the back of my mind. I’m a fugitive, I’m wanted, the ministry is looking for me. I couldn’t just come to you.” He stepped closer, placing his hand on your cheek, caressing your skin with his slightly calloused thumb. He leaned closer, placing a small kiss on your forehead, not daring to make the next step just yet.

He heaved a deep sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. You enjoyed the silent breaths between you, the calm atmosphere. Noone of you dared to step over the boundaries, even if both of you needed to be closer to each other.

You took a deep breath, before you exhaled shakily. “You know, he knows who you are.” Sirius knew what you meant without another word. “I wanted him to know his father.” You couldn’t read Sirius’ expression, but you were hoping it wouldn’t be the moment he leaves. “Do you want to meet him? Properly?” You asked, but before you let him answer you continued. “I don’t want to pressure you. If you need time to think, that’s perfectly fine.” You added quickly.

“I want to meet him.” He smiled softly, a nerves knot sitting in the pit of his stomach. You got hold of his hand, the feeling of his long fingers folding around your hand making you nostalgic and somewhat giddy. You walked him towards the living room, both of you halting in the doorway, watching James seated in front of the Christmas tree with a photo of a younger Sirius in his hand.

“James?” You called your son, making him jump. He looked up at you, before his eyes wandered to Sirius, studying the man. “Can you come here, please?” You asked and the boy stood up, walking over to you. James faced Sirius, both of them studying each other with a curious gaze.

“He is my dad, isn’t he?” He asked, looking up at you with the identical grey eyes his father had, his gaze questioning. You nodded in a reply, watching as he reached his hand towards Sirius, who accepted it with a proud smile. “I’m James.” He introduced himself.

“I’m Sirius.” He replied with a nod.

“Is he staying?” James asked as he looked up at you waiting for a reply. Your stomach jumped at the thought, but you didn’t know how to reply. You turned to Sirius for an answer.

A wider smile started spreading across his face as he squeezed your hand, which you still didn’t let go of, completely forgetting about how natural it felt to be connected with him. “If you let me, that would be amazing.” Sirius replied confidently, making you let out a single laughter.

“I would love that.” You smiled happily. “Can I leave the two of you alone until I try to save the food from burning?” You asked with a silent chuckle. Both of the boys nodded confidently, waiting for you to leave. They watched you with eager eyes as you looked back at them, making sure that everything was going well.

You quickly headed to the kitchen, pulling out the roasted potatoes and turkey from the oven, slightly burned, but still edible enough. You placed the trays on top of the unoccupied part of the stove and removed the mulled wine from the fire, before turning it off. You tried to work as fast as you could, impatiently wanting to head back to your boys. Seeing them together was like a dream come true and you felt like you were still dreaming. You needed to see them again as soon as possible to be able to believe it was all happening to you.

You rushed back to the living room as soon as you finished and leaned against the doorframe watching as Sirius and James talked about quidditch, both with a childlike enthusiasm across their face. It was an idyllic moment you cherished dearly, the two most important men in your life bonding over their common interests. You never wanted to step out of that sweet reality you found yourself in.

“No, that’s not true. I will show you the best broomstick.” James exclaimed as he started off towards his room with a wide smile across his face, almost shoving you out of the way, before shouting a quick ‘sorry’ to you.

“He is an amazing kid.” Sirius stated with a cheerful grin across his face as he waved you over to the couch.

“I know, I tried to do my best.” You nodded in agreement as you took a seat beside Sirius.

“You did a fantastic job, love.” He beamed, his gaze warm and loving, just like all those years ago, capturing your complete focus, his pet name for you rolling off his tongue just as smoothly as all those years ago.

“Are you really staying?” You asked. “At least for a while?”

“I don’t ever want to leave you or James again.” He sighed deeply. “I still love you just as much as before, if not more and I want nothing more than to get to know my son. Our son.” He lifted his hand, caressing your face. “I want to be with you again. I want to support you and make up for the time we lost.” He leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, enjoying the moment with you.

You didn’t want to wait longer, nor could you do so. You closed the gap between you, attaching your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands sneaked around your waist.

It was just as perfect and exciting as you remembered, if not better and you didn’t want to let go of him for as long as you could keep him in your arms. So many memories resurfaced whilst his lips moved against your, all the moments you have shared appearing to you like a happy little montage.

“Come on, Mom!” You heard James’ annoyed voice and you quickly parted from Sirius, both of you slightly panting from the passionate kiss.

“Sorry.” You chuckled as you watched his deformed expression, a disgusted grimace sitting across his face, before it slowly turned into a small smile.

“I’m glad we are all together, but keep that behind closed doors.” James whined, making you giggle as he sat down in front of the couch on the carpet, showing his broomstick to Sirius. He threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, hinting a kiss on top of your head.

The food got cold and was slightly burned by the time the guests arrived, but you were the happiest person in that moment, and nothing could ruin it. Your family being together for the first time was the best Christmas present you could ever wish for.

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knchins · 4 years

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Hunger - Todoroki S.

Summary: Todoroki Shouto doesn’t want to follow the footsteps of his father. On the brink of starvation, he hears the call of a witch who finds a way to fulfill both of their needs.

Pairing: Incubus!Shouto x Witch!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sm*t, v*ginal fingering, v*ginal s*x, oral s*x, c*nnilingus, choking, some mentions of (consensual) breeding, soft!dom Shouto, some begging ig, some mentions of sugar daddy/baby, Shouto is several centuries old and is of age, oh and some fluff

Notes: This was my very first request I think??? I got it months ago lol so idk if this person if even still following me RIP. But I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope they enjoy it wherever they are <3 I did deviate a little bit but not TOO much.Censored words is so I can show up in the gd tags.

Dealing with demons had become sort of a pastime for her, the young witch living in the secluded wood out in the countryside. She greatly enjoyed the remoteness, though sometimes it did come to a great disadvantage. Travelers would come, asking for potions or spell-work, something to help them with their troubles in life. As a grey witch (one who practiced both white and black magic), she tended to be able to help just about anyone with anything. Of course there were a few lines she wouldn’t cross such as raising the dead or directly causing death. She did have some morals after all, albeit somewhat controversial ones.

Whenever she needed an item that she simply had no access to, then she would call upon demons to aid her in her work. The first couple times she had been a little reluctant and she would be lying if she didn’t say she had a few close calls, but ultimately demons could be bartered with just as humans could. The lower leveled ones were rarely smart enough to outwit her or ask for something she just couldn’t give. So far, dealings were good and they only became better when she met him.

On the fourth or fifth time she called out for help, this time she needed a rare desert root for a drying spell, she followed the same procedure as always. She lit her candles, drew a summoning sigil on the floor, and chanted the words that would bring her the closest demonic being that felt the urge to heed her call. She specifically did it in a way that powerful demons would not be attracted. In fact, she would much prefer to keep them away for they were much smarter and more conniving, and ultimately not worth the risk. This time though...this time someone with a little more juice than what she normally found herself bargaining with appeared before her.

Todoroki Shouto was an incubus with the most prestigious lineage of any sex demon that resided in hell. His father was known by all demonic beings. He was number one in his class, The closest to king that anyone of them could truly be. He had also fathered more children than any other demon, enjoying ruining human women to the point that they could no longer be satisfied by mortal men. Shouto found it distasteful. The way Enji wold flux his hormones so that any woman within a few hundred feet would simply beg for him to fuck her, to breed her, to make her his. He had more half-siblings than he could count in addition to the three full-blooded ones. His mother had also been a high class demon with a pedigree, though her whereabouts were currently unknown.

He was minding his own business, taking a nice walk through the woods in the mortal realm when he heard the call. There was a tugging sensation on his chest and a melodic voice ringing in his ears. It was not a call for someone like him. Someone capable of such true power. Yet, something drew him in. Something about that voice had his interest piqued. He couldn’t resist answering her quickly, less some other demon came to her first.

He appeared before her, hair split down the middle perfectly. One half red like his father’s, the other white as his mother’s. One dark grey eye and another a brilliant blue, his white button-down shirt loose fitting with a few top buttons undone to show off his chest. If he wanted to lure in the opposite sex then he could with ease, but Todorki Shouto had a secret. One that made him much less powerful than he could be.

The witch was taken aback by the demon in front of her. He was certainly the most handsome she had ever seen, most lower level ones were not very pleasing to look at. It made them easier to deal with. Her curious eyes blinked as if to make sure he was really there. Immediately she could sense that something was off about him. Something wasn’t quite right, however she could not pinpoint what it was.

Shouto regretted answering the call immediately. The witch he had been summoned by was possibly the most beautiful creature he’d ever set eyes on. She was pure beauty and grace, more stunning than anyone residing in hell or earth. In fact, part of him wondered if maybe she was an angel. However the various bottles of herbs and assorted animal parts quickly led him to believe that she was not divine. She was simply mortal and in need of help.

“Oh an incubus.” She said, still looking very bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “What a surprise. I’m not sure if you can help me or not. You’re a little out of my league.” The last part seemed like a joke but Shouto wasn’t entirely sure.

“Why did you call for me here?” He asked calmly, his face perfectly blank though his eyes were fixated on her.

“I’m in need of something for a spell.” She said honestly, “Sometimes I call upon demons to help me gather items I cannot easily get.”

“Is that not dangerous?” He asked, starting to look more intrigued than anything. “Do you not worry about your safety?”

The witch let out a nervous laugh, “Well, lower levels ones aren’t much of a problem for me. You’re a bit more than I’m used to. I’m surprised you even heard it honestly.”

Shouto knew immediately why he heard it. Because as it stood, his power level was that of some lower tier demon. He had only fed twice since coming of age. His hunger was almost maddening. It had been eating away at him for decades. But he would not be his father. He would not be a glutton for sex and breeding. He refused to follow in his very heavy footsteps.

“I was simply within range.” He said, though she knew that him happening to be close by to her didn’t really mean much. The spell was designed to not be heard by anyone over a certain power level. Could an incubus really be below that? “What do you need?”

“A root.” She replied, flipping through one of the many of her family’s grimoires. She found the page that had a drawn picture, name, and general description. “This one.”

“You’re doing a drying spell.” He said out loud by mistake. He knew because he had had this particular spell cast on him many times throughout the years, though recently it seemed to be working less and less. It was to dry up sexual desire. It was one of the few things that helped him get by so long without feeding. Without it he would have been driven insane by lust many decades ago.

The witch cocked her head at him curiously, “yes, I am. For a client. She’s tired of having children but her husband just won’t stay off of her. She’s hoping it’ll get him to stop.” She paused for a moment, “Can you get it?”

“Yes.” he replied dumbly, as if it were totally obvious.

“What is your price?” She asked then, realizing he didn’t catch the implied question.

Shouto thought for a moment, it was about time to recast the spell judging by the lecherous thoughts that were starting to cross his mind. “Can you perform another one?”

She looked perplexed for a moment before it dawned on her why he heard her incantation. He was starved. And he must have been for some time too. “I can but I think I can do something else for you that will be much more beneficial.”

“And what is that?” Shouto asked, wondering if perhaps there was another spell or potion out there that was more powerful and thus would be more effective.

“Just have sex with me.”

That was how it started. Any time the young witch needed something, she’d do a more specific summoning spell, one that only Shouto could hear. And every time he’d come, no matter what he was doing, to aid her. She would often jokingly call him her demonic sugar daddy because he provided everything for her for the low low price of coitus.

The first couple times had been a little awkward. Shouto’s abilities were almost dormant. He fumbled his way about her body which was quite embarrassing for a sex demon. However after a few practice rounds the two truly began to find what got the other off the most. And in half a dozen sessions Shouto was feeling power, but with power came hunger.

When he appeared before her hearth one night, without an invitation, the woman nearly threw an old vase full of nightshade at him in terror. She only put it down when she realized it wasn’t just any random intruder, but her newfound lover. She hadn’t needed anything in quite some time now. Hadn’t called on him because business had been rather slow and the jobs she did get, she didn’t need anything from him. Perhaps it was a little cruel of her to not call on him regardless, but she honestly did not know how much his appetite had grown. How it began to consume him until all he could think about was her, naked and writhing beneath him as he pounded into her. He craved her and only her. It was not something that ever really happened to Incubi. After all they could have anyone they wanted. But he didn’t want anyone else. He only had eyes for her.

“Shouto.” She breathed out, heart still racing as she set down the clay vase. “I wasn’t expecting you, did you need something?”

His eyes were fiery as he stepped towards her and she could smell the faint scent of hell on him. She wondered if maybe he had another argument with his father. He had told her a little about his family life during post-sex cuddles. It wasn’t much but she knew he hated the demon that sired him. He always seemed to be wound extra tight after coming straight from hell, and that was usually the reason.

“Go bend your ass over the bed.” He said, further unbuttoned the flowy shirt he typical wore. Her eyes grew wide, embarrassment heating her face as she took a small step away from him. It wasn’t really out of fear, just a simple reflex. He never really got demanding of her like this, maybe something was wrong.

But the warmth pooling between her legs told her that despite the interruption, despite having not planned this whatsoever, hearing him order her to get into the bedroom had her flooding with desire, and he could smell it.

Shouto didn’t really have to use his pheromones to seduce her. He was naturally attractive and had a body that looked as if it had been sculpted out of marble. No, he never used them before but he was definitely using them now and they had her weak in the knees as she trembled. She walked on shaky legs into her bedroom, keeping her thighs pressed together as she walked in an attempt to hide the wetness that was accumulating in her panties. It was pointless though. He could always tell.

He left his shirt in the living room and kicked off his boots on his way to the bedroom. He lost his pants at the entryway, watching as she leaned over the side of the bed and resting on her forearms. Her eyes large and doe-like at the rush of adrenaline. Sex with with a sex demon was always an unforgettable experience. It was easy to see how people went mad over it. The way he made her feel, the orgasms he gave her, none of it compared to any other lover she had ever had. Perhaps that was one reason why she had been so willing to listen to him just now. She knew he’d make her feel good, and who didn’t like to feel good?

Shouto padded over, dropping to his knees behind her as he pushed her skirt up over her ass so that the fabric could bunch at her waist. His nimble fingers hooked around the elastic of her panties and he slid them down with an odd amount of carefulness. He practically buried his nose into her sex, inhaling that sweet scent of arousal that had him feeling absolutely feral. His tongue came to prod at her clit, causing a small whimpering sound to come from her.

He dragged his tongue over every inch of her pussy, savoring it fully until she was a quivering mess with shaking knees that threatened to make her fall down. “Let me breed you.” He said between kitten licks. “You can have anything in return.”

They had been using protection until then. Sex demons were incredibly fertile and typically had no trouble creating offspring. But at the time when this started, Shouto didn’t want to sow his wild oats like his father had. This witch had him wanting to throw all of that to the wind. He just didn’t care. That drive to fuck without any sort of barrier was maddening.

Anything from a demon was a very big price tag, and Shouto had never tried to deceive her. He had never been anything other than honest. And despite all her teachers to never trust a demon, she found herself trusting him. Every time their bodies intertwined she fell more and more in love, no matter how much she had tried to resist. She had thought some distance would have helped ease her feelings, but apparently it had been hard on both of them.

“Y-yes,” She gasped out as he latched onto her clit to suck, “Ple-please, Shouto, fill me with your cum.” She was gripping the old quilt on her bed tightly to try and keep herself grounded, but the way he was eating her out, two lithe fingers now dipping into her dripping core made it impossible to even think straight. All she could think about was her simple need to have him inside of her.

He didn’t stop working his fingers or tongue until she hit her first peak, moaning out for him in a way that had him nearly cumming prematurely. The strain in his underwear was painful now as he throbbed with need. After one long lick along her slit he stood up, grabbing onto the globes of her ass for pretend support.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Little Witch.” He said as he pulled down his briefs and kicked them away as if they were the most offensive thing in the world to him. “You’re shaking like you want to say something. So say it.”

“I need you,” She said, somehow sounding out of breath despite not having done anything besides orgasm. “Shouto, I need you so much.” He wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping in slowly as he watched her continue to tremble. “Please fuck me!”

The amount of lust he was feeling for this one mortal woman was dizzying. No one had ever told him that one person could have this kind of effect on a demon. Neither his father nor his two older brothers. Was it that far fetched to think that something was happening to him that had never happened to them before? They all had a primal drive for sex but never towards one specific person. Shouto found that he desired no one else in any of the realms. He only wanted her.

He pushed it without any hesitation, feeling her tense suddenly at his thickness stretching her out. He watched with fascination as he disappeared inside of her cunt, the warm, wet feeling enveloping him like summer rain. “Fuck,” He couldn’t stop himself from cursing and just how amazing it felt to be inside her. It was like taking that first breath of fresh air after being held underwater for an extended period of time. It was so damn freeing.

The witch relaxed against the mattress, her eyes closed to focus on that beautiful feeling of him completing her with his cock. Shouto took hold of her hips to keep her upright and steady as he pulled out slowly before bottoming out all over again, her slick making for the best lubricant as he moved with ease.

It started slow. Shouto wanted to revel in the heat. He wanted to drink in the feeling of her walls clamping down around him. The sound of her tiny whimpers when he pushed all the way in after pulling out. But this was much too slow for her, she couldn’t handle such a torturous rhythm. Shouto had eternity but his little mortal did not. Her time was limited and the thought of that made his heart suddenly ache.

“F-Faster,” She dared to mumble to him, sometimes he’d punish her if she begged too much. If she didn’t let him enjoy himself properly. Today was not one of those days though. Today Shouto wanted to hear her cry for his cock.

So he obliged, increasing his pace as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. His witch began to moan even louder as he hit that sweet spot again and again, making her dizzy with ecstasy. She never lasted long when it came to sex with Shouto, something he took great pride in. He loved nothing more than to give her multiple orgasms.

But this view just wasn’t doing it for him. He pulled out abruptly, making her cry at the sudden emptiness. He flipped her over onto her back, ripping at her blouse so that it was torn wide open for him. Then he tugged down her bra to free her breasts before reinserting himself into her. He watched her face contort with pleasure, the glossy look in her eyes as he began to pound into her at a relentless pace. The hypnotizing way her tits bounced with every thrust, they were just so perfectly in sync with one another. It was the definition of beauty.

Shouto brought a thumb to her clit, lightly pressing on it in a way that had her clamping down on him even more. It was as if she was trying to suck him in deeper, never wanting to be without him again. He grunted at this sensation, eyes burning with lust as her mouth made that perfect “o” formation with her eyes rolling back as her second orgasm overcame her.

He never talked much during sex, choosing to be a silent observer. Every now and then he’d give a command or order, but that was about it. He had never been much one for dirty talk like his father or eldest brother. The witch was fine with this. He made it hard enough for her to think without adding the pressure of comprehending something as complex as language.

Just when she thought he might be coming to his end, he increased his pace even more. She whined, still feeling incredibly sensitive from the first two orgasms. At least he had the decency to take his thumb from her aching clit. Instead he reached up and wrapped his hand around her bare throat, squeezing just enough to lessen the flow of oxygen and blood to her brain.

She gasped for air, her moans less audible now as air came out in strangled puffs. He would loosen just enough to give her a small break before tightening back up again. She grabbed at his wrist, and he waited for her sign that it was too much. A double tap anywhere on his body with her pointer and middle finger, or their safe word if she could manage it was all he needed to tell him that he’d gone too far. But neither came and so he continued to abuse her pussy with a pace so fast no human could possibly keep up, and only when she was screaming his name a third time did he finally release himself.

Shouto came inside her for the very first time. Normally he pulled out even with a condom on. He really wanted to take no risk. This time, this time he had to claim her as his somehow. If any other demon were to come to her then then they’d smell him all over her. They’d think twice before crossing a Todoroki, that was just how well known his family was.

He removed his hand from her neck, before leaning down to kiss it softly. His nose nuzzled the underside of her jaw in a way that might have appeared to be loving if either of them knew what that word really meant. Her heavy breathing slowly calmed down, delicate fingers squeezing his biceps with care. A simple sign to tell him that she was alright and that he did good. She had found that sometimes he needed encouragement. Sometimes he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be. But small reassurances were really all he needed to bounce back to normal.

“Can you stay the night?” She mumbled. Any time she asked, any time she was feeling particularly weak for him, he would turn her down. Saying he had other things to do. Saying it just wouldn’t be proper. Making any excuse he could.

This time Shouto did not move from on top of her. His mound clouded with the afterglow of such an intense orgasm. He knew then that he’d do anything for her. Anything at all. And because of that realization he hummed back a simple affirmative. He’d stay as long as she would have him.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #mha #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto imagine #bnha requests

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spencessmile · 4 years

Text

Welcome Back Bambi

Pairing - BAU x Reader

Summary - After being away for years, you receive a call that pulls you back home.

Warnings - Team Fluff

Word Count - 2222 words

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don’t steal my work and post it without my consent. Happy reading!

For the longest time, you knew growing up you wanted to join the FBI. Joining the FBI was the only thing on your mind from a young age. You worked off your butt in university, finally made it to the academy, completed the academy training, and joined the BAU with some of the most profound agents. You had the honor of working alongside Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, and other agents who soon became family.

Years passed until there was this one case that changed your life. You had a stalker that sent you anonymous texts, emails, and packages in the mail. You kept the situation to yourself, hoping to deal with it in your own way. After a while, the emails, packages, and texts stopped, and you were confronted by the stalker one night outside of your house where you were kidnapped, tortured, and shot.

That case took a huge toll on your life and ability to work. While you were ordered to take time off, Unit Chief Gideon left the bureau. You spent lots of time thinking about your time at the bureau and came to the conclusion that leaving would be the best option; at least for now. You handed in your resignation letter four months after Gideon left.

After a year, you received an offer to join the White Collar Crime Department. You needed to get back to work so you agreed without hesitation.

You spent the next 6 and ½ years working with the White Collar Crime Department. It was a far more tough job than you imagined. At the moment of receiving the call, you accepted the job because you were so desperate to get back on your feet. You were a workaholic, sitting at home wasn’t an option for you.

Present Day

It was a cold rainy day in Virginia as you were seated in front of your desk in a small cozy office staring out the window. You should be tackling the stack of paperwork on your desk but your mind kept wandering back to the phone call you received two hours ago. You grabbed your phone and stared at the call log, your finger lingering over the contact number, unsure of what to do.

“Agent Y/L/N, do you have a minute?” Director Jones walked in and shut the door.

“Actually I have loads of paperwork to complete, Director Jones."

"Okay, so you do have time. I need to speak with you,” You sighed as she sat down. “Did they reach out to you?” You knew exactly who she was talking about and where this conversation was going.

“I received a call.”

“And you didn’t come to discuss it with me? Why not?"

"I just received the call two hours ago."

"You should have come to speak with me as soon as you ended that call, Agent Y/L/N."

"I’m swamped with work, Director."

She narrowed her eyes at you almost like she was trying to read what was going on inside your brain. "Are you considering it?"

You sighed. "I haven’t decided yet."

"Will you have a decision by the end of the day?"

"Is that when you need an answer?"

"That’s when the Department needs an answer."

You leaned forward in your chair, folding your hands "Director Jones, when do you need an answer?"

"I’d like one before I step out of your office."

Three weeks later, at Quantico

Everyone was surrounded around Reid’s desk as they stared at the elevator doors. "Is she here yet?” Garcia stumbled into the bullpen.

"Not yet baby girl,” Morgan responded.

“I don’t like change,” Garcia whined.

“Baby girl, change isn’t always bad,” Morgan replied.

“I know, I know. But over the past couple of months, we’ve had a lot of agents come and go. I just want someone to come and decide to stay. I just want her to be nice, that's the biggest thing for me."

"Wait, why do you keep using the pronoun she?” Prentiss asked, raising her eyebrow. “Do you know who it is?"

"I overheard Rossi and Hotch talking the other day but I don’t know who she is. Rossi sounded super excited to have her a part of the team."

The elevator doors opened and everyone’s eyes followed the ding.

"Morning,” JJ smiled. “What are we all doing?"

"We’re waiting for the newest member of the team. Did you see anyone on your way up?” Prentiss asked.

“Nope."

"I need everyone at the round table now,” Hotch orders walking out of his office, Rossi following quickly behind with a very small smirk on his face.

“Looks like we got a case,” Morgan grabbed his coffee cup and followed everyone to the round table.

“What’s wrong?” Reid asked, fiddling with his pencil.

“We’ve had a rough couple of weeks and I know that everyone is anxious to get back out there. I’m also aware that everyone is looking forward to meeting our newest member of the team. Pl-"

"Is she already here?” Garcia cut Hotch off. “Sorry, sir."

"They should be here any minute,” Hotch looked at his watch.

Walking back into the same building brought chills down your back. It brought back bittersweet moments. You flashed your ID card to security and made your way up to the 6th floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a wave of nerves wrenched your stomach. You stood outside the glass doors for a couple of seconds.

It’s now or never.

You pushed open the glass doors and your eyes met with the familiar settings. It all looked the same except the desks had changed. The only scent that hadn’t changed was the smell of fresh brewing coffee.

“Can I help you?” You heard someone speak up.

“Hi I’m Agent Y/L/N, I’m here to see Agent Hotchner."

"Ah, he is with the team at the round table. I’ll call him for you.”

“Thank you,” You said as your phone vibrated, looking down there were 3 missed calls from Director Jones and 2 missed calls from Section Chief Erin Strauss. You didn’t want to deal with any of them right now so you turned off your phone, and shoved it in the depths of your purse.

“Oh my god! It’s you. It’s really you! You’re back!” You turned around to see Garcia, she pulled you in for a tight hug. “I can’t believe you're here,” Garcia cupped your face. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hello hello, I’ve missed you too."

"Baby girl, let us hug her too,” You hugged Morgan tightly. “This is such a surprise,” Morgan pulled back.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” JJ said.

“Uh, that would never happen."

Hotch and Rossi both took turns hugging you but there was someone you didn't recognize.

"Agent Y/L/N, this is Agent Emily Prentiss,” Hotch introduced.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You shook her hand.

“Likewise. I’ve heard lots about you,” She smiled.

You looked around and noticed someone was missing.

“Where’s Reid?” You asked, and Morgan smiled at your question. Back in the day before you left the bureau, Reid and you were the closest on this team. You always got along with him and he was your best friend. After joining the White Collar Crime Department you kept in contact with everyone on the team but it wasn’t the same as being with them every day.

“He’s on a phone call,” Garcia replied.

“Which department did you come down from?” Prentiss asked.

“White Collar Crime Department.” You said, proudly.

“Are you serious? Damn,” Morgan said, surprised.

“It was great, at first. But it’s a lot for anyone to take on."

"Really?"

I nodded. "When Hotch called I was sort of relieved I was getting a way out. Not saying that I’m not blessed to have joined that Department but it was lots of paperwork. Like way too much paperwork."

The team looks over to Rossi.

"Rossi bribes us to do his paperwork,” Emily pointed out.

“Let me guess, allergic to paperwork?” I asked and Rossi just kept a small smile. “I tried that excuse too."

"How did it work out?"

"Oh, it wasn’t in my favor at all," Everyone chuckles.

"Well, now I’m going to spare the rest of the team for a bit and have the newest member do all my paperwork,” Rossi joked and Emily and Morgan cheered, high five each other.

“Sorry Y/L/N you're in for a ride,” Morgan said.

“How is Director Jones doing?” Hotch asked, knowing that she is not most people’s favorite. She's definitely not your favorite, that’s for sure.

“Oh, she is a dream,” You joked and the team laughed. “Same blonde pixie cut wears way too much red lipstick and black eyeliner. Thank you for saving me,” Hotch cracked a very small smile.

“Do you still stay back after everyone leaves?” JJ asked as you nodded.

“You know JJ, some people never change,” Morgan added.

“Y/N?” You heard a voice and saw Reid standing on the catwalk. You looked up and he had the biggest smile on his face. You excused yourself from the team and quickly ran over to Reid.

Last time you remembered, Reid wasn’t much of a hugger but right now he opened his arms for a hug and you jumped into his embrace.

“Oh my god, you're here,” He whispered, squeezing you a little tighter, you didn’t mind at all. “I’ve missed you."

"I’ve missed you too,” You smile, pulling back.

You could feel the eyes of the team watching Reid and you interact from the bullpen.

“Nice hair pretty boy,” You teased him using Morgan’s nickname for Reid. “Did you join a boyfriend part-time or something?” You joked.

“Hotch asked me the same thing last week,” He replied. Reid looked at you for a few moments before saying. “I’m really glad you decided to come back."

"Me too."

All paperwork was abandoned as the team all had their chairs rolled over to your desk wanting to catch up.

“She really did that to you?” Prentiss asked.

“Director Jones is a true gem,” You say. “If you can work with her then I think you can do anything.” Prentiss laughs. “You guys want to know something?”

JJ nods. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but I missed Strauss while working at the White Collar Crime Department.”

Morgan shakes his head at you. “Nah, did you really just say that?”

“I’m being one hundred percent serious,” You say, sitting up straight. “I’d rather have Strauss to worry about than Jones. That woman made alpha males cry,” You laugh. “It’s like Ursula came to life,” You joke and everyone cracked up.

You looked across the bullpen to see Hotch in the same spot as always, at his desk, finishing up paperwork. After you left you kept up with the team enough to know that they went through some tough times.

“How is Hotch doing after, you know?” You ask.

A couple of months after you left Hotch lost Haley after the George Foyet case. You wanted to come back and visit but you were swamped and couldn’t make any time. Although you did make a phone call, it wasn’t the same.

Morgan looked over at Hotch and sighed. “He took a week off and then he came back.”

“Typical Hotch,” You replied.

“He’s doing alright though.”

“What about you?” JJ asked and you look at her, with a confused look.

“What about me?”

“How are you doing after the stalker case?”

“I’ve been alright,” You reply. “But I was held hostage, and shot a while back.”

“What?” Reid said, putting his hand on your right arm. “Are you okay?” Concerned filled his eyes.

You shook your head. “I’m fine Reid. It was almost a year ago.”

“What happened?” Garcia asked.

“It was a case that went south, really quick. We were getting pressured by the authorities and we had to do something quickly so I put myself in a situation that I knew wasn’t going to end well.” You say. “Spent a few weeks in recovery but I’m all good,” You give them a thumbs up.

You were about to tell another story but Garcia’s phone went off.

"I’m all for happy moments because we never have enough of them but we have a case,” Garcia states, getting up. “Let’s go, wonder girl, it’s time to get those wheels in your brain turning again."

Everyone shuffles into the conference room. Reid stopped when he noticed you didn’t move.

"What’s wrong?” His soft brown eyes, piercing into yours.

"Nothing, nothing. I just uhh -” You looked around and there was a part of you that was glad to be back in a place that was so familiar. "I’m just really happy to be back with you all,” You smile.

“Welcome back Bambi,” Reid said, using a nickname from an inside joke that was formed years ago on the jet on the way home from a very interesting case.

It’s not about where you are, it’s who you have by your side - Unknown

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #bau x reader #BAU #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia

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amorgansgal · 3 years

Text

Cruel, Cruel World - I've Been Living Too Long

So here's the first chapter of my Charlotte x Arthur fic, it was inspired by @rivetingrosie4's other idea suggestion during the TY Giveaway I did. I liked both so much and wanted to do an Arlotte story anyway, that I decided to write it as well as The Bitter End! It will cover their meeting and feelings for each other, but it's going to be a tale of unrequited love, so prepare yourself for angst and feelings!

You can read it on AO3 and The Bitter End on AO3 too.

Warnings: Depiction of skinning and gutting an animal.

The first time they meet she’s still crying. The overwhelming shock of grief that left her gasping for air and howling like a wounded animal is gone, replaced with tired sobs. Her back and shoulders ache from digging, there are blisters coming up on her fingers. Charlotte knows she must look a sight, her blouse is covered in filth, mud smeared across her face, tear tracks run down her cheeks and her eyes are red and sore.

She has no widow weeds, nothing suitable to wear for a funeral. The closest she can get to is a blue blouse and a grey-green plaid skirt. She hadn’t exactly planned on having a funeral. What young couple does? Why would she think that the beginning of their new, exciting and adventurous life would mean the end?

Charlotte thinks about the one funeral she attended a long time ago. A Great Uncle. They hadn’t been close so she felt no real absence or loss. Grief had been a pretty thing, played out with processions, quiet sobs, small handkerchiefs fluttering like white birds amongst a black sky. A neat, tidy performance. What would all those people think of her now, crawling in the mud, dirt etched into her fingernails, her belly aching with hunger, as she sobs hopelessly?

‘We’ll read books and we’ll grow vegetables like we did back home and we’ll learn as we go!’ Cal’s excitable words haunt her now. What absolute fools. It would take thousands of books, hundreds of years to learn what they needed to know. ‘We don’t need anything special. All we need is each other.’

She’s so lost in thought, feeling her heart beating traitorously against her chest, that she doesn’t even hear the man’s footsteps or the rustle of grass at his approach.

‘Er, you alright there?’ A warm, rumbling voice says.

She turns quickly and gets to her feet. ‘Who are you?’

He’s as tall and broad as an oak, wearing a light brown leather jacket and blue shirt. His soft brown hair touches the collar of his shirt and rough stubble lines his cheeks and jaw. The hat on his head is tipped back slightly, as though knocked by a branch, and she tries to gauge from his blue-green eyes whether he will hurt her. He looks rough, strong, doubtless he could injure her if he wanted to.

He raises his hands in surrender, though she has already seen the revolvers at his hips and the rifle slung across his back. ‘Oh, it’s okay, ma’am. I don’ mean you no harm.’

What does it matter if he does? The world has pulled every last bit of love and warmth away from her. If he knocked her into the ground, raped her, robbed her, killed her, would it really matter? She cannot feel anything anymore, her body won’t allow her to feel any more pain.

Charlotte watches him cautiously, his gaze steady and sure. No sense of danger within them and better still no false pity or assumed grief. He doesn’t know her; he isn’t going to pretend to feel her pain. For that she’s grateful.

‘Well, it makes no difference now. If an outlaw or wild animal doesn’t get me, starvation will.’ She says hollowly. She looks over to Cal’s grave and sees with shame that the flowers she left on it are streaked with mud. She thinks about the bouquets and wreaths that were given at her Great Uncle’s funeral. So lovely looking and well ordered, that they almost didn’t look like real flowers.

Charlotte picks up Cal’s flowers and does her best to wipe away the smears of mud. When she turns her head, the stranger is still there, watching her. There’s still no artifice in his gaze and almost without meaning to she finds herself speaking openly to this man.

‘We came out here from the city in search of a different life. Something true, something real. All this squandering and indulgence we wanted to strip it away, to find something authentic.’ She hates the words, she hates herself. If this man mocks her now, she wouldn’t blame him. What a stuck-up prig she sounds.

A sob gets caught in her throat and she almost chokes. ‘What a pair of fools.’

He looks away briefly, almost a little uncomfortable with her grief, but then returns his sea green eyes to her. He looks saddened for her, but more for the situation she’s in rather than anything else. He does not deride her dreamy notions of escape and adventure, he does not pity their foolishness, he won’t offer false sentiments of his condolences for her.

‘Is there a train station or a town I can take you to?’ he offers.

His offer is sensible, practical, reasonable. Everything she and Cal hadn’t been. Her head says she should take the stranger up on it, pack her things, head back to Chicago. But to what? To a family that will give her nothing but pitiful looks? To in-laws that will do the same but may whisper behind their hands about her? To a society that will look at a childless woman in her thirties and will shake their heads at the shame? Her heart tells a different story. Do this for Cal, do this to show the world you can, do this to show this strange man you aren’t afraid.

‘No, I can’t give up now. He wouldn’t want that. I… I can’t have it.’

She turns to the grave, looking at the rough wooden cross she had made from two planks nailed together. ‘I’m going to do this for you… Cal.’ The very act of saying his name aloud says a sharp wave of pain through her, but she bites back her sobs.

‘Well…’ the stranger murmurs. She begins to walk past him to go back to the little cabin Cal and her once called home. Her muscles are stiff and aching and she struggles to walk normally. ‘I’ll erm… I’ll leave you to it.’

The tight feeling in her chest grows as the restrained sobs seem to grow more and more, pressing against her throat and lungs, till her eyes burn. He’ll leave her, he’ll go and she’ll be alone to face this terrifying, looming pit of grief and hunger and pain and loss. Charlotte staggers and drops to her knees, the tears all too easily dripping from her face and the pitiful sob forces its way up. She hears his footsteps stop, but she can’t look back, she can’t watch this man go.

‘Damn fool,’ she thinks. ‘Damn, damn you, Charlotte. You don’t know this man; you can’t feel pain at his leaving. He would leave at some point. What would he do otherwise? Offer to stay with a grieving widow?’

‘Is there anything left for you to eat?’ The warm, gravelly voice asks.

She looks at him, wishing she could offer a real smile. He might be uncomfortable, but he’s kind. Unreasonably so to a widow he’s found in the cold grey afternoon who is acting like an idiot. Any normal man might just leave her to her fate, rolling their eyes at the ridiculous notion of her surviving.

‘Nothing.’ Charlotte manages to fight back her tears again and gets to her feet. ‘No, we didn’t know the first thing about hunting, we… couldn’t even catch a darn mouse. If you need any poisonous berries though, I’m a natural at finding those.’

The joke is a poor one and it sticks uncomfortably in her throat. Though the man does the decent thing and lets out a small murmur of amusement. She realises she is still holding the flower from Cal’s grave in her hand. The flowers are almost wilted, the petals sticky with mud. Tears burn in her eyes again; she can’t even do this part right.

‘Well… you ain’t goin’ to last much longer out here if you don’ know how to hunt. Come on,’ he says, gently cajoling her. She gazes up at him seeing his expression has softened considerably. ‘I’ll show you.’

She feels strangely reassured as she rises to her feet. ‘Alright… But you better not try any funny business. You know, I may be weak but I still know how to stand up for myself.’

‘Oh, I don’ doubt it,’ he gives her a quick smile. From anyone else it would be mocking, but it’s genuine from him. ‘Come on.’ He gestures with a hand for her to follow and Charlotte is surprised when she finds her feet moving towards the pathway.

She looks back to the grave. Despite the hunger the claws in her stomach, the grief that weighs heavily on her heart and the tiredness she feels from digging that cold, dark pit, a small glimmer of hope seems to blossom inside her. Perhaps in the moment of absolute loss and heartache, Cal has guided this man to her. Perhaps he was still looking out for her. Charlotte looks back at the man walking ahead, his reassuring smile that he turns on her so welcoming she could weep all over again.

Arthur walks through the woods, hearing the quiet, steady footsteps of the woman beside him. He finds himself still reeling at the thought of his eagerness to help her, perhaps the old Arthur would have turned aside. The old Arthur Morgan would have shaken his head and left the woman weeping by the grave. He doesn’t like to think if he would have done anything worse, but there’s no denying it, he did go here because of a robbery tip.

Old Arthur wouldn’t have time to teach her to hunt, to survive. But for all that his time is rapidly running out, it seems almost as though he has plenty of it. Plenty of time to offer help and aid instead of a cold shoulder of indifference. More and more he longs to help others. Perhaps it a longing for redemption, to do what little right he can do. A lifetime of sins isn’t easy to unpick and untangle, but he can at least balance out the bad with some good.

He glances at her, trying to see the woman underneath the streaks of mud on her face and the mask of grief her features have become. Dark hair that is straggly and unkempt, eyes swollen, her clothes plastered with mud.

‘Tell me, you ever skinned an animal before?’ He needs to know how much she knows; he doubts whether a city girl would ever need to learn such a skill, but he could be wrong.

‘No, but then again, I haven’t caught much of anything either.’

For all the comfort and privilege of her upbringing, he appreciates her humour and straight forwardness. ‘Well, you’ll need to know how to do both if you’re going to survive out here.’

‘I am all too aware,’ she replies grimly. ‘So where should we head for?’

‘Er… let’s try in the trees down there, near the river.’ He gestures the large body of water that spans the length of the train bridge. There must be something down there, even if just a rabbit or a duck. The woods are quieter, the shadows of the late afternoon lengthening. There is still a little golden light from the sun that reaches through the trees, making the grass and low-lying shrubs glimmer as though gold coins are being tossed amongst them.

‘What happened to your husband, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Arthur says. He remembers she talked bitterly about the poisonous berries she found and, as they pass a patch of bright pink oleander sage, he thinks perhaps he’ll also need to teach her which plants are good and which are deadly.

‘A bear got him… it was horrifying.’ Her voice sounds hollow and tired, he wonders when was the last time she slept properly or ate. ‘He survived but only for a couple of days.’

Arthur risks a glance at her, seeing her pale drawn face, the pain in her soft grey eyes. He thinks about reaching out and touching her shoulder, offering some comfort that way. But he quickly pulls his eyes back to the path and the forest floor. Any comfort he could offer would be a poor affair and doubtless she does not want it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says instead.

‘This was really his dream more than mine. I’d have hopped back onto the next train to Chicago if he’d said the word… but now… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain… I have to do this.’ The calm resolution in her voice makes him reconsider his first thoughts, that whatever he could show her would be of little use. That perhaps like many he has met in his travels, grown to both like and love, she would not survive. But maybe she will. Maybe that steely calm resolve will help.

She spots the rabbit before he does. He quickly dispatches it and uses the time, where he bends down to pick it up, to hide the fact that he’s somewhat impressed at her keen eyesight. He only sees it when the rabbit begins to hop about, trying to escape from him. The woman seems to see it when the thing is nestling quietly amongst the bushes. Her voice trembles when she hears the shot.

‘Oh! Oh… Good shot.’

He shuffles the rabbit from hand to hand, busying himself so she does not see how the small amount of praise has affected him. It’s ridiculous, absurd that he should find a hot flush creeping up his cheeks at the kindness of her words. Has he really been so starved of approval from Dutch that any slight, meaningless compliment makes his head spin?

She approaches him cautiously and he passes the rabbit to her. ‘Okay then, go on. Time to get your hands dirty.’

‘How do I… I mean… what do I do?’ she asks apprehensively.

‘Just hold the legs tight, and pull the skin away, quickly. Should come righ’ off.’

She tentatively holds the rabbit up, her face betrays no squeamishness, just nervousness at getting it right. Her right hand carefully grips the fur by the rabbit’s legs. She glances up at him and Arthur wonders if he should show her how to grasp it more firmly. But then she tightens her grip and begins to tug on the fur, till bit by bit she manages to remove the coat.

‘Oh my… it worked!’ she exalts, a rare genuine smile crossing her lips. He finds himself smiling back, a deep sense of pride running through him. He taught her that and she did it. She’s a smart woman. Her cheeks flush pink and she looks away back to the rabbit. Arthur clears his throat nervously.

‘And that is all there is to it. You did good.’

She lets out a soft sigh, almost of satisfaction. ‘I think I’ve seen enough blood for one day. Do you mind if we head back now?’

‘Sure, I’ll walk you back.’ He falls in step beside her, the rabbit slung over her shoulder and he thinks about warning her that the blood will stain her blouse. But he remembers that she has a thick coating of mud all over her clothes, so it’s unlikely that any of them will ever truly be clean again. ‘That should keep you fed for a few days.’

‘Oh yes, at least. Thank you so much.’

Arthur is glad she’s walking ahead of him, though he shakes his head a little and stares down at his boots. Has a death sentence made him a complete fool? A twig snaps under his foot and the woman glances back at him, she offers him a quick smile. The fearful, desperate look in her eyes is gone, she looks comforted.

‘I mean,’ he says, clearing his throat and eager to change the subject. ‘This really ain’t such a bad spot. You got a good water source. It’s remote, but you can survive here alright.’

‘I have no doubt that one can survive here… whether Charlotte Balfour can is a different matter entirely. You’ve probably lived your whole life in the outdoors.’

‘A lot of it, that’s for sure.’ So that’s her name, Charlotte. He repeats her name in his mind, keen not to forget it immediately. Should he offer her his? Would she recognise it with the law and Pinkertons drawing in ever closer? Would she draw back in fear or contempt if she did? It doesn’t feel like he can stomach a rejection right now. He faces so much of it back at camp he probably should be used to it. But is it any better to lie and hide his true self from her? He feels bad when he realises she has been speaking and he hasn’t heard a word, too caught up in his own fears and concerns. For a man who has once insisted he didn’t think much about anything, that is another thing that has changed.

‘…Cal spent his summers growing up at his grandparents’ lodge in Maine, but I get the impression they did more punting than hunting.’

‘Right.’

‘Ever since we got here, it feels like every step forward has come with a hundred steps back. People always talk about the simplicity of country life. But there’s nothing simple about any of this.’

‘I guess we only know what we know…’

‘Oh please, I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long to adjust to a life of privilege and indolence in the big city.’ She smiles lightly.

‘I don’t know about that… it sounds awful.’

‘Oh, it is. A truly empty and boring existence… but an undeniably easy one.’

Arthur thinks about it. The notion of him being a banker or a shop owner sounds ridiculous. He’d be one of those many people he had robbed over the years and it almost tickles him to think on it. Would he be a well to do type? Someone who regularly smoke cigars and drinks brandy in the evenings, with a small wife and a family he’d occasionally see on weekends if the notion took him?

He glances at Charlotte as she climbs the hill, trying to picture what it would be like to be married to a woman like her. A city girl who has soft, delicate hands and has never skinned a rabbit. He almost scoffs aloud at the notion. Then scowls in thought.

Perhaps that was why he and Mary were destined to fail, he can’t imagine himself with a woman who hasn’t had a bit of rough living, who hasn’t skinned a rabbit or gone hunting. How he thought Mary was well suited to him he would never know. He wasn’t good enough for her. Not good enough for a woman who was better off living in cities, who could keep her hands soft and her skin unblemished.

They are approaching the apex of the hill, a simple wooden structure marking the entrance. Ahead two buildings. One looks to be more of a barn or shed, doubtless filled with tools and useful odds and ends. Outside the low wooden structure sits a wheel and a water trough. Arthur wonders if he should suggest Charlotte get herself a horse, but he doesn’t doubt the woman has thought about it already.

Ahead of him sits what could be a pretty cabin. He admires the slate tiling on the roof, providing far more protection than any thatch or wooden panelling could. Around the front door is a small porch, with a bench outside, practically ideal for any person to sit out on warm summer evenings and admire the sunset over the trees. Curling smoke drifts up from the chimney and he is glad that she seems to have enough wood to keep it lit. The path in front of the cabin is lined with stones and either side of the steps that go up to the front door are flowers, the tall blue ones he recognises from around the area of Little Creek River. A pretty place.

Once they reach the doorway, Charlotte pulls the door open slightly and then turns blocking the entrance. He can only see the wooden walls and maybe a chair from where he’s standing.

‘Thank you. That was the first time anyone’s done anything nice for us.’ She sighs at her mistake and raises the rabbit. ‘For me… since we got here.’ The recent loss is evidently still all too recent.

‘Well, nature provides, but she sure don’ always make it easy.’

‘That she doesn’t… I’d invite you in, but I’m dead on my feet, if you’ll forgive the pun.’ She manages another strained noise of amusement. ‘Please do call again some time, though. A good rest and hopefully I’ll be a new woman.’

‘You take care Ma’am.’ She lingers by the entrance and gazes at him for just a moment, then steps back into her house and closes the door. Arthur breathes out a sigh he had been holding and lowers his head. Then he turns on heel and begins to walk down the path. He whistles for his horse.

#charlotte balfour x arthur morgan #arthur morgan x charlotte balfour #arlotte #charlotte balfour #arthur morgan #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead fanfiction #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

For We Are Afar With the Dawning: A RQG Fic

Also on AO3. Contains spoilers for Episode 207.

Augusta is floating. Both literally and metaphorically.

Mentally, she’s floating on a peachy-pink cloud of euphoria and warmth and happiness and contentment. It’s an absolutely perfect day, the kind of day she never gets to experience anymore. The sky is a clear blue dotted with puffy white clouds, the sun bright enough to illuminate the scene but not so bright to hurt the eyes, and it’s pleasantly warm without being oppressively hot. The gentle, cooling breeze brings with it the faint scents of something floral; Augusta’s never been all that great with scents per se, but she thinks it might be roses or something.

Physically, she’s in a rowboat in the middle of a glassy lake, lying on her back with her arms folded contentedly over her chest and her head resting on a lap that seems to mostly comprise of white illusion. Augusta herself is wearing a loose-fitting lawn shirt and a pair of trousers, her feet bare. A pair of oars rest in the locks on either side, but nobody is using them.

“You know, Gus, I think you’re going to have a curly crop when this grows out a bit.” Delicate fingers run through Augusta’s delightfully short hair. “You’re going to look quite rakish.”

“Just so you don’t try to get me to wear one of those dreadful outfits you were talking about that boy wearing in your book.” Augusta smiles. “Really, Lou, where’d you come up with that? Nobody actually dresses like that.”

Louisa laughs. “I wanted it to be really clear that there was no way Jo would ever fall in love with him. Why would she love someone who dresses like that?”

“You should have given one of the girls who came to the Christmas play a name,” Augusta says. “And a personality. And a reason to come back.”

“Are you suggesting I should have put you in the book after all? I thought you didn’t like publicity, O Best Beloved.”

“I don’t like being tied to my brother. Being tied to you is different.” Augusta punctuates this by reaching up and twirling a strand of Louisa’s dark hair around a finger.

Louisa swats her hand away, but she’s laughing again. “Are you going to row us back to shore at any point? Mary and Emma should be here soon. Your Sasha was going to take the carriage and go get them.”

“She’s not my Sasha,” Augusta protests.

“She could be, if you asked, I’m sure. You know we’re all just yours for the asking.”

“Oh, stop it. That’s not how this works.”

“You can’t tell me the idea doesn’t appeal to you,” Louisa says relentlessly. “Having your own personal harem of beautiful and brilliant women. Mary for those delightful scientific discussions and Emmuska for solving puzzles and mysteries and Sasha for going on daring adventures and robbing tombs with and me for...well, when you want to be lazy and bored, I suppose.”

“Louisa May Alcott.” Augusta sits up and takes both of Louisa’s hands in hers. “You have no idea how happy I am. Right here. With you. I don’t need anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Sasha and Mary and Emmuska and I love having them around...and you’re right, Sasha’s so much fun to go poking around places we aren’t wanted with. But if none of them were here, I’d be happy just the same. Maybe more so. Being with you?” She brings Louisa’s hands up and kisses them tenderly. “This is perfect.”

Louisa blushes beautifully, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to row back to shore.”

Augusta laughs. “You wound me. Right here.” She places one hand over her heart.

She’s joking, but suddenly, it feels like Louisa—or someone—has wounded her. There’s a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in her heart, and the last thing she sees is Louisa’s sparkling eyes and sweet smile before the world goes white.

It resolves after a moment. Now instead of sitting in a boat, Augusta is sitting on a rock in a clearing in a verdant forest. Looking up, she can see the night sky and the stars, so many stars, more than she’s ever seen, and the sweep of the Milky Way looks almost green. The moon shines down on the clearing and illuminates her.

Augusta looks down at herself. She’s wearing more practical clothes now—boots, trousers, tunic, leather jacket—actually, it’s a lot like what Sasha Rackett wore when Augusta first met her, nearly two years ago now, except newer and neater. Across her lap is a well-made crossbow.

A big beast swoops overhead, one Augusta can’t identify (she grew up in a city and the only kind of hunting really considered proper for young ladies of her station was foxhunting). A moment later, there’s a rustle in the undergrowth, and a figure pops out into the clearing, a short figure with outsize ears and a drawn bow.

“Wotcher,” the figure says. “Seen a big beastie go by here?”

“It went that way,” Augusta says, pointing the direction she saw the beast fly. “What is it?”

The hunter—she presumes—shrugs. “Dunno. Still haven’t figured it out. Haven’t caught it yet. Maybe once I do, I’ll know. For now I just call it The Beast.”

He doesn’t seem particularly put out by this. He has a hunt, and what exactly he’s hunting doesn’t seem to matter much; he’ll find the answers when he finds the beast. It’s something Augusta feels an odd kinship towards. “How long have you been hunting it?”

The hunter shrugs again. “Dunno. What year is it?”

Augusta tells him. The hunter draws in a breath, then nods. “Well, then...two thousand years, give or take a couple hundred.”

“Ah.” Augusta looks around her. “We’re dead, then.”

“Probably, yeah. Well, I know I am. You probably are too. What were you doing?”

Augusta thinks for a moment. “Dreaming.”

The hunter snorts. “Not the best way to go out.”

“It’s not like I chose to go out that way. I’d rather have gone down fighting.” Augusta sighs. “At least it was a pleasant dream, though.”

She touches her chest, out of habit, and has a moment of panic when she can’t find what she’s looking for. Frantically, she scrambles at her neck until she finds the fine chain, then pulls it out and breathes a sigh of relief when the heavy silver locket lands in her palm. Just to be sure, she pops it open, and Louisa’s eyes stare back at her.

Augusta smiles back at the picture, then looks up to see the hunter staring at her inscrutably. She coughs and closes the locket. “Sorry. Just...checking.”

The hunter reaches into his own clothing and pulls out a photograph, but doesn’t show it to her—which startles Augusta, as she didn’t think photographs were that old—before putting it back. “It’s important to hold onto these things. Until you find them. Everything dies, after all.”

“That...probably shouldn’t be comforting, and yet…” Augusta takes a deep breath. “Everything does die, doesn’t it? I don’t know that this is exactly her idea of paradise, though.” Then again, she hadn’t realized it was hers, either.

The hunter shrugs. “Probably not theirs, either. But they all connect. I’ve got a camp set up.” He gestures off to one side. “Check in there every few...decades, maybe. Just to see if they’re there yet. It’ll be nice to have a home to come back to, someday, but for now...there’s the hunt.”

Augusta considers that as she tucks the locket back into her shirt, then looks down at the crossbow on her lap. “I’ve never really hunted in forests before, but I’m not bad at hunting in general.”

“I’d be willing to teach you some tactics. If you’re interested. Just until we both find what we’re looking for.”

Augusta stands up, shoulders the crossbow, and holds out her other hand. “My friends call me Gus.”

The hunter grins, red eyes sparkling, as he accepts her handshake. “Grizzop.”

~*~*~*~

Sumutnyerl soars, buoyed up by a thermal, then banks to one side and swoops low, skimming over the grass. This is their favorite form; they love to fly, and it’s a perfect day for it.

Beside them, another eagle tacks and swoops playfully, then sheers off. Sumutnyerl beats her wings to gain a bit of altitude and follows. For a moment, they race one another straight up into the air. Then the other eagle dips backwards into a loop. Sumutnyerl screeches in delight and goes into a spiraling dive, weaving around the other.

They continue this sky-dance for several minutes before the other leads up to the branches of a tree; Sumutnyerl follows and lands on a branch, then transforms back. They’re already laughing with delight. “I never get tired of that.”

“Nor should you.” Oblaitko smiles warmly, their eyes soft and kind. “The day one grows accustomed to the gifts that have been given is the day one ceases to live and begins to only exist.”

“I mean doing it with you.” Sumutnyerl looks out over the rolling meadow. “I would that we could do this forever.”

“We can,” Oblaitko answers. “Our duties are...light. And not incompatible. We needn’t go back to the town at all. You can attend to the Garden, I to the River, and we can spend the rest of our time here.”

Sumutnyerl considers. The idea is...not unwelcome. She feels an utter sense of peace here, with Oblaitko by their side. More than that, they feel like herself, like an individual and not just part of a collective.

“I would like that,” they say at last. “Very much.”

Oblaitko tucks a strand of Sumutnyerl’s hair behind their ear. “As would I.”

“A bargain, then.”

“A bargain,” Oblaitko agrees. “We can ask permission in the morning, but I hardly think the Council will object. It will save resources, after all.”

Sumutnyerl sighs and leans their head on Oblaitko’s shoulder. They place their arm around her shoulders and pull them close, one hand idly resting over their heart.

For just a second, Sumutnyerl wonders if Oblaitko is concealing a blade, because they suddenly feel a sharp, stabbing pain in their chest. They look up in shock, but there’s nothing on Oblaitko’s face to indicate they’re doing anything...and then the world goes white.

When Sumutnyerl’s vision clears, they are no longer in the branches of a tree, but somewhere else, somewhere far too familiar. Awareness settles on Sumutnyerl’s shoulders as they look around the Garden of Yerlick, but not as it is in life—currently or under ordinary circumstances. The flowers bloom as they past, trees put out their hands like old friends, and the spirits of the dead are instantly visible, smiling and calling to them.

Ah. This again.

“Sumutnyerl?”

Sumutnyerl turns and smiles again. Oblaitko stands before them once more, not in the same form as a moment ago—no longer young, their hair white, their back bent with age and the weight of their position—but their eyes are the same warm, kind brown they have always been .Right now, they are wide with shock and not a little sorrow.

“Hello, my dear friend,” Sumutnyerl says.

“Sumutnyerl,” Oblaitko says again. “Why...how are you here? Like this? You—you mustn’t. It isn’t your time.”

“Perhaps not,” Sumutnyerl agrees. They touch their heart, where the phantom pain is fading fast. “I—I believe I may have been stabbed in my sleep.” Like Nik, they think, with a mingling of regret and anger.

“You will be given another chance.” Oblaitko states this quite calmly, as if it is a given fact rather than an opinion...or a hope. “The Garden needs you. Our people need you.”

“Perhaps I shall be given the offer,” Sumutnyerl replies. “And...perhaps I will accept. But...well. There is much that has happened. Perhaps if I am not needed...perhaps if my last great task has been fulfilled after all…” They hold out their hands. “Would you allow me to stay?”

Oblaitko takes Sumutnyerl’s hands, and stares into their eyes, and no other words are necessary.

~*~*~*~

Hamid knows, on some level, that he’s dreaming, if only because Zolf isn’t really one for parties. That doesn’t stop him from being happy, though. Hamid’s sleep for the past few months has been dreamless at best, teeming with nightmares more commonly, and occasionally non-existent at worst. A part of him has started to believe he’ll never have beautiful dreams again, so the fact that this is a good dream means he’s going to enjoy it for all it’s worth.

And the others all look happy, too. Aziza sings beautifully, her eyes sparkling and face expressive, and her husband gazes on her with a proud, adoring smile. Saleh, his wife, and Hamid’s mother are listening to Oscar tell some story, gesturing dramatically with his drink, his other hand being occupied holding Zolf’s. Zolf has a faint smile on his face as he listens to a story he’s probably heard a hundred times—hell, it’s probably one he was there for, those are Oscar’s favorite stories after all—but that he never gets tired of hearing Oscar tell. Hamid’s father looks more relaxed and content than Hamid has seen him...well, ever since he started paying attention anyway, deep in conversation with Saira and Apophis. Azu, wearing the gown she and Hamid designed together for the opening of the so-called Bow Bar, is making a valiant effort at letting Ismail teach her one of the fancy dances he’s learned, while Ishaq enthusiastically does the same with Cel. Skraak and Grizzop have become fast friends, which Hamid isn’t surprised by, and he wonders what they’re talking about and if he’s going to have to help Zolf clean it up later.

Hamid dances. He loves to dance, almost as much as he loves to fly, and he doesn’t really mind that he doesn’t have a partner at the moment. As he spins, putting in one of the fanciest twirls he knows, he catches Sasha’s eye across the room and grins; she grins back and shoots him a double thumbs-up.

Hamid starts in Sasha’s direction. She’s so good on her feet, he thinks, she’ll be really good at dancing, and she’ll love it. Aziza’s just wrapping up the song she’s currently working on, and Hamid’s pretty sure she’s going to go into the aria from Act I of Carmen, which was her first leading role and one she’s quite proud of. Hamid knows with absolute certainty that Sasha will kill it at a tango.

Before he gets to her, he passes his mother and gets a kiss on the cheek. Saleh gives him a friendly poke in the chest as he passes, which actually hurts a lot more than Hamid is expecting, but he tries to laugh it off, especially as Saleh is laughing, too.

Zolf turns to face him. Letting go of Oscar’s hand, he reaches over and touches Hamid’s forehead with one thumb. He’s still smiling a little, and the look in his eyes is one he hasn’t given Hamid in a long time—not since the beach south of Calais, after they survived the storm sailing from Dover. It warms Hamid all the way to his toes.

“It won’t end this way,” he says, and while he sounds like he’s talking at an ordinary volume, Hamid somehow gets the feeling that nobody can hear Zolf’s words but him. “I won’t let it. Your heart’s too big to be destroyed by something like this.”

Hamid feels simultaneously stronger than he has in ages and like something’s being sucked out of his lungs. His wings unfurl from his back before he completely registers that the music is gone.

He blinks. Someone is holding him—it feels like Cel—and it’s dark. The memory of the lights dimming and then going out comes to him...and they’d been heading to the lab, he remembers, because of the tunnel, but what—?

Zolf’s voice comes from not very far in front of him. “Get in in the door, and get safe.”

Hamid blinks again. That’s an order, they’re in the field—he promised he would follow Zolf’s orders in the field, so even if he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he’s going to do what he’s just been told and he can ask questions once they’re all safe. Surely Zolf will be right behind him.

He takes in a breath to acknowledge his instructions—and sucks in a lungful of sweet-smelling gas. Instantly, he drops unconscious back into Cel’s arms.

He blinks and he’s at the party again. Zolf is still standing in front of him, smiling as he turns back to the conversation—did he leave for a minute? No, surely not, Hamid’s been here the whole time, he thinks fuzzily.

The song wraps up on a triumphant sting, and there’s a smattering of polite applause, and then just as Hamid suspected, the music starts up and it’s “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle” from Carmen. He hurries over to Sasha and holds out a hand. “Sasha, come on, you’ll love this!” he cries.

Laughing, Sasha takes his hand and lets him pull her onto the ballroom floor. She’s a natural at the tango. Hamid would never have dared ask anyone else to do this dance with him; it’s a fiery dance of passion, usually, but this is Sasha and she’s just his favorite sister, as far as he’s concerned, even if she’s not his sister by blood. There’s no romance behind what they’re doing here, no heat. They’re just two kids having fun, really, laughing and taking increasingly flamboyant chances with the flashier moves.

He ends the dance by dipping her, somehow, despite the fact that she’s two feet taller than he is, but they’re both flushed and laughing and having a great time. It doesn’t even matter that they overbalance and fall onto the dance floor. Nobody’s really watching them anyway, which is just the way Hamid wants it right now. He doesn’t have to be the center of attention all the time. Not even most of the time.

“I like your wings,” Sasha says, poking one of them, and when did they come out? Hamid genuinely can’t remember. “This ‘cause you’re a Meritocrat?”

“I’m descended from a dragon,” Hamid corrects her. “I’m not a Meritocrat.”

“Good. But the wings are cool anyway. Do they work?”

“Oh! Yes. Want to see?” Hamid gets to his feet and manages—somehow—to pull Sasha up too. “I can cast fly on you and we can—”

“No,” Sasha interrupts, surprising him. She pulls him into a tight hug, and, oh, Sasha gives the best hugs. Hamid’s always suspected she would, but she’s always been iffy about being touched. If his wings hadn’t already popped out with joy—apparently—they would be bursting out now. He hugs her back just as tightly as she lifts him off the ground with the force of her embrace..

“Don’t you give up, Hamid,” she says in his ear. “Don’t you do it. There’s no dream so good it’s worth losing the whole world for. You get back out there and you fight to make the world this good. Because this right here? This is worth fighting for.”

Just a little of the euphoria peels back from the edges of Hamid’s mind, and he clings to Sasha a little tighter. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“’M always with you, mate. Just like you were always with me. We’ll meet again. But right now, you’ve got to go save the world for me.” Sasha pulls back enough to smile at him, and her eyes are wet. “Make it a good one.”

Hamid’s eyes snap open.

~*~*~*~

If you had asked Oscar even a year ago, he would never have described this as the most perfect moment of his life. He would have said that the most perfect moment he could imagine is a gala celebrating the opening of his greatest work, a play that will be talked about through the ages and mean his name lives on long after he does, resplendent in his finest clothes, a rapt audience listening to him declaim his opinions—finally being the center of attention for art instead of admin.

But no. He enjoyed that, yes, and he’s looking forward to reading the description of it in the newspapers. But the truly perfect moment is this one. Just a simple, quiet family breakfast the morning after.

Azu is at more or less the opposite side of the round kitchen table they’re using instead of the formal dining table, nursing a hangover bigger than she is; she’s got a glass of tomato juice and a cup of strong black coffee and isn’t really talking to anyone. Cel is scribbling on a piece of paper and muttering under their breath, probably trying to improve or refine the special effects they and the kobolds designed and built for the production. Zolf presides over the stove as usual, his beard done up in one of the intricate braids he only does when he’s in an especially good mood and his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Sasha stands a little way down the counter, beaming as she slices and chops meat and vegetables for him; she’s the only one Zolf allows to help him in the kitchen, and even then only on special occasions. Hamid sits to Oscar’s left, a pile of newspapers between them, his pre-breakfast snack actually half-forgotten at his elbow.

“The reviews look really good, Oscar,” he says, sounding almost as delighted as Oscar feels as he hands over the Times, folded back to the Arts page. “All the criticisms I’ve seen so far have been about the acting, not the play itself.”

“I told you to cast Barnes in the lead instead,” Zolf calls from the stove.

“Not my call, darling. I’m not the casting director.” Oscar reads the article Hamid is handing him, a broad smile blooming across his face as he reads. Hamid’s right, the reviews are glowing, and this is from a critic who’s notoriously hard to please. A particular phrase about halfway down the column catches his eye: Wilde’s masterful words and turn of phrase makes even Johnson’s leaden performance turn to the purest gold.

Turning a few pages on, Oscar opens the society page and is delighted to see that most of it has been given over to a description of the party celebrating the opening. There are even a couple of pictures accompanying the article, and Oscar very carefully folds the paper back so that one of them is more fully visible—Oscar at the center, smiling broadly and holding a drink in one hand, his other arm draped around Zolf’s shoulders, the others arrayed around him looking pleased and proud.

“Have you thought about your next project?” Cel asks, looking up from their notes.

Oscar shakes his head before Cel can launch into an elaboration of the question. “No, not yet. I think I’ll take some time to see how this one does first. It may have opened well, but that doesn’t mean it will end well.” He sighs, a bit dramatically but not entirely put-0n. “Things so rarely do.”

“Things rarely stay good the whole time they’re happening, but that doesn’t mean they won’t end well,” Azu points out. “We got here, didn’t we?”

“And you’ve earned it,” Hamid adds encouragingly. “Happy endings feel a lot better when you have to work for them.”

“Cheers to that.” Sasha tosses her knife into the air; it flips four times and then returns to her hand without her even looking at it, and she goes back to her chopping.

“Have a bit of faith, Wilde,” Zolf chides him.

Oscar smiles fondly at his dwarf as he sets aside the paper. Azu’s faith in Aphrodite is a certainty you can cut your teeth on, but Zolf’s faith in Hope is nearly contagious. Like their happy ending, Zolf has worked for his faith, he’s earned it, and it’s never betrayed him. It’s the only reason any of them are still here, really. It’s the anchor that kept Cel from spiraling with guilt, it’s the keel that steadied Azu when she doubted herself (not her god, never her god), it’s the beacon that led Sasha back to them. And it’s the only reason Oscar and Hamid are still alive, albeit with matching scars—

Wait. Where did that come from?

Shaking his head slightly, Oscar pushes away from the table and passes behind Zolf, touching him first on the shoulder, then the cheek. “I have plenty of faith, dearest. In you if nothing else.”

“Get away from my workspace,” Zolf grumbles, though without any heat.

Oscar smirks and moves down the counter towards the cutting board, ostentatiously reaching for one of the ingredients waiting to be added to whatever Zolf is preparing. Sasha jabs playfully at his chest to make him back off.

She’s too good at what she does to accidentally stab someone when she’s only pretending to, and she wouldn’t stab him, especially not with Zolf’s good tomato knife; she has too much respect for both Zolf and blades to do that. And yet, pain suddenly erupts in Oscar’s heart, as though she’s driven a blade far bigger than the serrated one she’s holding into his chest. He inhales sharply, and the world goes white.

For just a moment, it resolves itself into his flat in Paris from when he was in university, or something similar anyway, but then it swirls into a pink mist. He feels something solid holding onto him, something anchoring him firmly in reality, and warmth floods his entire being. He feels safe and protected and cherished, and it gives him strength.

His eyes open, and he finds himself lying more or less on his back. Zolf kneels next to him, one hand tenderly cradling his jaw, the other pressed to his heart, which hurts like anything.

“Wh—huh—?” Oscar tries to sit up, his mind scrambling to fit this dark and rather crowded antechamber or wherever it is they are in with the light and airy kitchen-slash-breakfast nook he remembers from just a few...moments ago? What’s going on?

Zolf’s face is pale, his blue eyes intent, and there’s a trickle of blood near his hairline that worries Oscar in a vague and distant way. But he doesn’t have time to ask about it before Zolf looks into Oscar’s eyes and says in a voice that crackles faintly with an emotion he can’t place, “Get the others out, and get safe.”

Before Oscar can question it, or protest, or even figure out what it is they’re supposed to be safe from, Zolf half-shoves, half-throws him through a door that’s barely open wide enough for him to get through. He slides a few feet until he’s able to at least drag himself on his hands and feet a little further into the room. Someone runs past him and takes hold of the door, but doesn’t close it.

Oscar blinks hard, shaking his head to clear it. There’s a sweet smell in the air and he almost sniffs at it, almost tries to see what it is, but then his eyes fall on the crumpled figure not far from where he is and it acts like a dash of cold water across his brain. Hamid. Hamid is flopped in a pitiful heap, his new wings draped across the floor, his eyes closed.

He was dreaming. Oscar realizes that in the same moment that he takes in Hamid’s unconscious (oh, gods, please let him only be unconscious, Oscar cannot have failed him a second time) form and the sounds of something that is definitely not making breakfast in the other room. He pushes himself to a standing position and looks around the room. It doesn’t take long to spot the tunnel Hamid spoke of, at the back of the lab. That must be both out and safe.

“Tell the others to follow us,” he calls over his shoulder to the person he now recognizes as Ada, hurrying over to Hamid’s side and hefting him into his arms. The wings make it awkward, but Hamid sort of nestles into Oscar’s arms. Thank the gods, he’s alive.

Oscar runs. He heads down the tunnel, the light fading behind him, but he can’t spare a hand to cast any sort of spell to help him, so he just gets as far as he can. There’s just enough light left for him to see the gate before he runs headlong into it, and he checks, then looks over his shoulder. The others will be coming any moment now, he tells himself. They just have to wait a moment.

He sets Hamid down on the ground and looks him over quickly. He looks...fine, really. A bit disheveled, but fine. Then Oscar notices the bloodied tear in his shirt. Underneath the rend is a scar so new its edges are still shiny, directly over Hamid’s warm and generous heart.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened. And, touching his own chest briefly, Oscar feels the same thing.

He checks Hamid over quickly, and even though he’s a bit rattled, he realizes that the sweet smell he noticed earlier is probably what knocked Hamid out; other than that, he looks fine. Oscar sniffs the air experimentally. It’s a bit fresher down here, so he should be able to…

“Hamid,” he says urgently, shaking the halfling, then slapping his face as gently as possible. “Wake up!”

Hamid’s eyes snap open. There’s a moment of disorientation before his eyes clear. “Oscar?” he says, his voice a bit higher-pitched than normal as he sits up. “What’s—what happened?”

Oscar still has no idea, actually, except for one absolute certainty so strong he sensed it even in his dreams, maybe even before it happened. “Zolf saved us.”

The confusion on Hamid’s face melts into fierce determination. “Then let’s go return the favor.”

#ollie writes fanfic #rusty quill gaming #rqg 207 #207 spoilers #minor character death #grief mention #violence mention #augusta leigh (rqg)#sumutnyerl #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #oscar wilde (rqg)

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓮 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝓮 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓃𝓮𝒹 (𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷!𝒮𝒶𝓃) 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛! 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑈

"𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆...

𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍’𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔.."

-𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆: 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The young raven haired man strolled through the crowds of other guests, taking a glance or two whenever something seemed to catch his eyes. But those glances were only fleeting. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting in any of them.

He took in the scene before him: long, glittering ball gowns spun around, either in tune to the orchestra playing or in a presumptuous effort to be shown off to others. The male specimen differed no greater than their female counterparts, often standing up straighter or running a hand down their expensive and delicately tailored suits, except they were willing to take it a step further and actually discuss how much they paid for it.

Foolish mortals

He scoffed as he studied each one of them. It was truly sickening to him how much humanity had reached its lowest point. More frequently than not, he noticed how humans more than ever were vain, prideful, arrogant, egotistic and disdainful of anything or anyone who wasn't them.

It wasn't entertaining anymore. He recalls a time many centuries ago when he would get a thrill out of corrupting the innocent, driving the wisest of beings into insanity, destroying picture perfect marriages and making the purest of souls fall into an abyss of sin and darkness.

What was the point of trying to do all that now when some of them are destined for destruction since the moment of their birth? It truly irritated him.

Sighing he picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays carried around by the many butlers, poor useless souls as he liked to refer to them. He sipped on the crimson liquid, it's alcoholic venom doing nothing to him even though it was probably his 13th one already.

13? Was it?

He lost count. He shrugged it off though. He could drink it as if it were pure water, his kind were immune to this substance unlike humanity.

He snorted when he'd look at certain people's masks. While most went all fancy and elegant, others decided to have fun and make sure their attire stood out, in the form of red or black masks, adorned with either fangs, horns and overall rather gruesome or grotesque visages. Clearly they were meant to represent none other than his fellow kindred. He scoffed at their personification of him.

"Damnable bastards. If only you knew we are some of the most beautiful creatures to walk next to you....."

Perhaps that's the main reason why they all, man or woman, no matter their age, education or social status, end up ensnared by them. They were irresistible.

He was about to walk out of the hall, bored out of his non-existent soul, when a small titter caught his ears. Turning his face towards the sound, his breath was caught at the sight of an ethereal looking woman. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. She was absolutely perfect: from her luscious (enter color) hair, to her satin smooth skin, all the way down the her tempting figure. Her scarlet colored dress was impeccably on her, the deep plunge in the chest decorated with sequins and rhinestones daring men to not gaze at her cleavage. The waistline was fitted and then fanned out to accentuate her captivating body. Anyone would think this lady was sin itself, she certainly looked the part.

But San knew better. He could see and feel the aura around her. She was wholly pure, absolutely nothing to signify that she'd been stained or deemed unclean. She was simply an overly sheltered girl who no doubt wanted to fit in, be regarded as a mundane person like the rest of them.

Absolutely perfect if you asked him.

He sauntered in her direction, his devilish smirk plastered on his face. Sensing a pair of eyes, she tilted her head and made contact with the demon, now unable to look away from his alluring gaze. Even through the mask covering half of his face, she knew he was the most handsome man she'd ever see, albeit she'd never seen a lot of men in her life anyway.

Inexperienced and naive as she was, she let him stand next to her and take her hand. Lifting it up to his lips, he introduced himself:

"Choi San. Pleased to make your acquaintance my fair lady."

Delicately, he placed a kiss to her fingers, before releasing them from his hold. His touch was cold, but it sent a burning sensation up her entire arm and she found herself longing for his touch again almost instantly.

"L/N Y/N..." She replied in a voice that was merely above a whisper.

"A truly befitting name for such an angelic lady."

He chuckled to himself at his use of the word. If he was successful, which he always was, by the end of the night, there'd be nothing angelic left about her.

He extended his arm out towards her.

"May I have the pleasure of requesting the next dance?"

He made it a point to flash his dimples, knowing they only added to his charm and rendered women unable to refuse him. She stood up and linked her arm in his. He felt a shiver when she touched him, a feeling he only felt when his kind were in the proximity of a pure soul. It was precisely what he'd been craving for who knows how long. Definitely more than a hundred years since the last time he felt such a presence.

He guided her to the dance floor, the other couples already in position. If there was anything San prided himself on, it was his dancing. He's had years of experience to learn almost every dance that had been created, not only because it added to his attractiveness, but because it truly was one of the few mundane things he thoroughly enjoyed.

He especially loved the waltz they were currently playing. Waltzes were so elegant, refined, polished and were perfect when seducing someone. Intense eye contact, hands intertwined and his arm pulling her close to him, he could see a glimpse of the light blush peeking out underneath her ebony mask. She was flustered, exactly how he wanted her. They were practically gliding across the dance floor, perfectly in tune with the music playing.

"Did you come alone?" San decided it was time to strike up a conversation before going for the kill.

Y/N simply nodded, looking down somewhat ashamed. Instantly he knew she was probably not supposed to be here in the first place.

Interesting detail.

"Tired of sitting at home all bored?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but already knowing the answer.

"Can you tell?" She asked, wondering if he could read her mind.

"Well..... I can tell a lot of things about you..."

Releasing his hold on her waist, he lifted his hand to spin her around before bringing her back into his embrace, now closer than before.

"Things like what?" She wanted him to elaborate.

He hummed along to the music, making her impatient for his answer.

"Like..... how you want something exciting to happen tonight. Your eyes are practically for something, anything, that contrasts the dull life you've lived so far..."

She widened her eyes when he spoke those words. Was she that easy to read? That a mere stranger could notice that about her?

"And your countenance only serves to confirm my theory." He finished.

She sighed softly and loosened her grip on him, wanting to walk away, but he only tightened his hold on her. He smirked at her and leaned in, whispering dangerously close to her lips:

"Why don't you let me open up a new world for you?"

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The girl fluttered her eyes open, soft blissful pants escaping her lips. It had been a while since they left the mansion, where San took her to what she assumed was his place. Ruby red walls with matching velvet carpet, umber brown furniture, candles in every corner being the only illuminating feature in the dark room. The only exception was the bed. It was a pitch black color with white sheets and blanket.

Her dress had long been discarded in one of the chairs in the room, the only article clothing her at the moment being her cream colored garter belt with matching thigh high stockings. San thought they looked absolutely adorable on her. The visual only heightened his need to claim her, to corrupt her, to stain her forever with his unholy mark.

He was currently in between her legs, his mouth attached to her heat. Purple blotches were already decorating her inner thighs, courtesy of his teeth. He swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking down on it. He moaned and that action alone made her thighs tremble and close around his head. But he was having none of that. His hands pushed her thighs apart again, nails digging into her petal soft skin as he continued to ravish and feast on her succulent taste.

"S-San...wait...feels f-funny...." She stuttered out after a few minutes.

He knew exactly what she was referring to: she had about to have an orgasm. As much as he'd love to see her come undone on his tongue alone, he made an effort to pull himself back before the feeling got too intense. She let out a whine of frustration and looked at him with a puzzled look, unsure of what was happening.

San ran his thumb across her lip.

"Don't worry darling. I told you I'll open up a new world for you..

And I always keep my promises."

Unzipping his pants, he pushed them down his legs and threw them onto the floor. He smirked as he took in Y/N's astonishment as she gaped at his nude form, or more specifically, at his thick and long length. She seemed to hesitate for a minute, no doubt intimidated by his size, wondering how was that supposed to fit in her.

Climbing on top of her, he placed a reassuring kiss to her temple.

"I'll take good care of you darling...trust me."

His lips captured hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped inside and danced around her mouth, almost like the waltz from hours before. His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist. He lifted his hips up slowly, the tip of his cock pressing against her folds. He began slipping inside her, going inch by inch so she could get adjusted to the feeling, not wanting to scare her.

Although it took a lot in him to not just pound into her as he wished to.

She wrapped her thighs tighter around his waist, the foreign and stinging feeling of his intrusion causing her to hiss and cry out a little. San peppered kisses across her jaw and neck in an effort to soothe the pain, while his hands drew circles around her thighs. He stayed still until he felt her relax under him. She looked back at him, her face asking what to do now.

"I'm going to start moving now ok? Just relax and let yourself go."

He pulled out of her in a speed that was torturous to him. Then he slowly pushed himself back in, watching as she took deep breaths and looked down at where their bodies connected. The more she looked at him pushing in and out, the more it helped to relax and put her at ease. San knew it too. Her at first raspy breathing turned to soft, melodious moaning.

His hips snapped up and began rolling at a faster pace, causing his cock to hit the perfect angle in her. Her breath hitched and she gasped when the overwhelming feeling in her stomach started to return, building up inside her, threatening to be released any second now.

The demon could feel it too. He's had years of experience to know what her body was doing. He watched as her face contorted, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Sa-San..." She called out, trying to warn him.

He smirked at her.

"I know, I can feel you clenching around me. You feel so good. I can't wait to feel you cum on my immense cock."

His dirty talking only served to have her whine underneath him. His hand reached down and began toying with her nipple.

"So come on babygirl, let me feel you burst. I know you can do it.....

Give it to me."

He commanded those last words to her and just like he knew would happen, she shuddered under his body, her first orgasm in her entire life taking over her, a soft pathetic whimper being the only noise she could muster. It wasn't anything too loud or over the top, as San pretty much expected. It was her first time.

Besides.....there was plenty of time to have her scream his name.

He kissed her nose and smiled.

"You did so well darling. I'm so proud of you."

She blushed at his compliments. San pulled out of her, a proud evil grin plastered on his face as he noticed the sticky trail that dripped out of her onto the sheets: a few droplets of blood signifying he had deflowered her.

Now to corrupt her even more.

He picked her body up and spun her around, making her get down on all fours as he gripped her hips once again.

"Now it's my turn to have a little fun."

She let out a loud moan when he entered her for the second time, her body still sensitive from her first orgasm. San didn't bother to go slow anymore, he knew she could take it. He thrusted in and out of her at an inhuman speed, low moans and hisses coming out of his mouth.

"Fuck! I can feel you getting close again beautiful, your pussy is so fucking tight, it's practically swallowing my cock."

He chuckled when he felt her clench even tighter around him.

"Oh you like that don't you? You like being told you're nothing but a cockslut?"

She hid her face in the pillow in front of her, trying to hide the groan that just past through her throat. San however grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face back up.

"Answer me you little whore."

She yelped when his hand landed a harsh smack to her ass.

"Y-yes San!"

He smacked her once again before pulling her even more roughly and pressing her back to his chest.

"Right now it's Master. Got it you filthy slut?" He growled into her ear.

"Yes Master!" She cried out.

"Good little whore." He praised her.

He continued his merciless pounding, one of his hands trailing down her abdomen to rub her now swollen and pink clit. Y/N now had a few tears rolling down her cheeks from the overstimulation and she hung her head low.

"Uh uh little slut. None of that."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up. He tilted her slightly to the right so she could see their sinful reflection in the mirror by the wall.

"Look at you. You look so fucking desperate, wanting to cum again on my cock. Is that what you want? To cum on master's cock? Then beg for it."

Y/N let out a series of whimpers, collecting all the strength she could to cry out:

"Please master! I want to cum, let me cum on your cock!"

San was loving this. It had been so long since he had such an innocent thing begging for him.

"How bad do you want it darling? Does Master's cock make you feel that good?" He teased her.

"Please Master I want it so bad! It feels so good, please don't stop!" Her words were barely incoherent now from how overwhelmed with pleasure she was.

Having being satisfied by her answer, he squeezed her throat, causing her to gasp and writhe her body as her second orgasm took over, far more intense than the first. He never slowed down his pace therefore making her convulse even more violently and shriek out a chant of his name, further heightening his pride and ego.

Very soon after, he cursed loudly as he reached his own climax, his cock spurting out his cum inside her, filling her up with his sinful load. She collapsed on the bed, worn out by the physical intimacy that just took place. San chucked darkly when not even a minute later she was completely passed out. That always happened. Humans couldn't handle having intercourse with a demon, they were practically insatiable and always passed out after a night with them.

Pulling the blanket to cover her, San ran his fingers through her hair. He admired her features for a few minutes. She was really beautiful, an ethereal beauty that only came once every century. Even in her now corrupted and tainted state, she was still the most alluring person he'd ever seen, and he's seen even angels themselves.

Now he knew he wanted her all to himself, completely for him and for no one else to own. He wasn't going to allow anyone to take her from him. He didn't have to worry about celestial beings claiming her, they wouldn't want her now. But other demons might want her.....

Getting up he opened a drawer and took out something he'd never imagine using in any lifetime. But there was always a first time for everything. He held up the gold contraption in his hand before letting it set over one of the flames from the various candles in the room. Once he made sure it was hot enough, he approached Y/N quietly.

It's a good thing she wouldn't wake up for a couple hours....

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Y/N squinted, trying to let her eyes adjust to the lighting. She felt a dull aching in her lower abdomen and legs, reminding her of the events that took place last night. She looked around, seeing that she was still at San's place, but he was nowhere to be found. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, feeling some sort of burning and stinging pain.

She paused when she looked at the mirror and noticed something on the back of her shoulder. Getting up and trying her hardest to walk with her limp, she went to the mirror and turned slightly to the left. She froze when there was a bright red mark on her upper back in the shape of a pentagram with the letter 'S' in the middle of it.

She started freaking out. Was this some kind of joke? Where was San?

"Well good morning my dear."

Speaking of the devil, he appeared right behind her, making her whip around and face him.

"Did you do this?" She asked, pointing to the mark.

"I did. I think it really suits you." He smiled proudly.

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"Why you ask? It's simple."

He took a few steps forward. Leaning in, he gripped her chin.

"Because you're mine now and I own you."

She scoffed at his words, repulsed that he could do this.

"You're insane." She spat out.

"I've been called worse." He sat up straight again.

Y/N marched over to the chair on the other side and began grabbing her clothes.

"And just where do you think you're doing?" San crossed his arms in front of him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving."

He let out a hearty laugh at that.

"Leaving? Oh no sweetheart. You're not leaving. You can't leave me." He told her.

"Yeah? Watch me."

She pushed him out of her way and headed for the door, but before she could reach for the handle, San appeared right in front of her out of thin air, causing her to step back in fear.

"What the-" She exclaimed.

"Let me repeat myself darling..."

San began to take steps towards her as she began to slowly retreat from him.

"I own you. You can't leave because you're mine now. I marked you so no one else takes you from me, in other words..."

He slammed his hand against the wall behind her when they reached it. She watched in horror as his dark orbs shifted into a fiery red color that burned deep in her soul.

"You're bound to me for all eternity...... and now you're a part of my world....and there's no turning back..."

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy au #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san #choi san #demon!ateez #demon!au #ateez angst #ateez san smut #ateez san scenarios #ateez san fanfic #ateez san angst #ateez san au #demon!san

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vs-redemption · 4 years

Note

Hi, its me! Im sorry for bothering you! How would Bakugou, Aizawa, and Iida react if some random kid, who had their eyes but different hair, who looks homeless and IS homeless, knockef on their door and said 'hey, do you know *insert womans name*? Youre my dad apparently' and it turns iut it was a woman they had a flimg with, who left them, and went on to abusr their kid? Like severely? Its just me projecting lol. Im so sorry have a great day!

A/N: I noticed that @madkaleidoscope got almost the same request while going through the my hero tags, so please check out their post HERE for another take on the same idea.

A Surprise Meeting (Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario for Todoroki and Dabi HERE You can read the same scenario for Hawks, Fatgum, and Shigaraki Here

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness. Also, swearing for Bakugo!⚠️

Bakugo

“What the hell do you mean they were offended?” Bakugo growls at his manager through the phone propped up on his shoulder as he aggressively chops up vegetables for the stew he was making. “Instead of being grateful that I saved their asses, they decided to file a complaint against me huh?”

The underpaid person on the other end launches into an explanation about why a top ranked pro hero should avoid yelling out expletives while fighting villains in front of a crowd of civilians. Apparently it wasn’t an appropriate way to behave in front of impressionable children and elderly folks. Bakugo rolled his eyes as he continued cooking. He’d heard this spiel a hundred times before. He’d honestly worked hard over the years to improve the way he directly interacted with the innocent people he fought to protect every day, but he couldn’t help but get a little overzealous in the moment when taking down bad guys.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance when his doorbell suddenly rang. He wiped his hands off on a towel before going to tell off whoever it was that was interrupting his very limited free time. It was bad enough he was already getting an earful from his manger while he was trying to relax. He ripped open the door and felt a hint of surprise when he had to lower his angry red eyes to find the unexpected visitor. It was a little girl.

“What the hell?” Bakugo leaned out of the doorway a bit to look for an adult that might be accompanying the child but she seemed to be all alone. His manager paused their lecture to ask if he was all right. “Yeah, but I’m going to have to call you back,” Bakugo hangs up the phone and looks back at the little girl who was glaring up at him with familiar red eyes. Her long dark hair was dirty and matted. She had scrapes and bruises all over her arms and face.

“Do you need help or something?” Bakugo asks awkwardly as he tries to slip into his comforting hero voice. “Where are your parents?”

“Mommy left and didn’t come back,” the little girl scowls and crosses her arms. She then tells Bakugo her mother’s name, causing the man to freeze up in shock at the implication. “She said you were my daddy.” Bakugo just stands speechless for a few moments as his brain tries to catch up with what he’d just heard. He knew the girl’s mom, but he hadn’t seen her in about four years. They’d had a bit of a summer romance right at the beginning of his hero career before she’d suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Bakugo lets his eyes scan over the little girl once more. He couldn’t deny she had his eyes and his scowl. He felt irritated that his summer fling hadn’t even had the decency to tell him she’d gotten pregnant. He squats down to look more closely at the dirt and injuries all over the girl’s body.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, trying to keep the gruffness from his voice. Some emotion cracks through the little girl’s false bravado then and she looks down at her bare feet shyly.

“Mommy…” she whispers. Bakugo takes a deep breath to calm the rage that boiled up inside him and offers a hand to the little girl.

“Mommy left me too,” he confesses. “But she’s not going to hurt either of us ever again, okay?” The little girl looks up at her dad, a tentative hope blossoming in her eyes. Bakugo knew this was going to impact his life in a huge way, but at the moment he only cared about getting to know his daughter and making up for lost time. “Are you hungry?” The little girl nods her head eagerly and he leads her into his apartment. He would get her cleaned up and fed before getting started on all the legal stuff he’d undoubtedly have to endure before she could really be his daughter completely. His mind was already coming up with ways to fit parenting into his work schedule though, and he found himself looking forward to spending as much time with his little girl as possible.

Iida

Iida assumed he was going to have another normal morning as he sat at his desk, looking over his patrol route for the day. He’d taken over his family’s hero agency not too long ago, but he was already used to the daily routine. All the experiences he’d lived through during high school, not to mention growing up in a family of heroes, had prepared him for most scenarios he would encounter as a pro. He had no reason to suspect that anything out of the ordinary would happen, even as he heard the knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he calls out while standing up to start putting on his hero costume. The door blasts open and a young girl runs into the room.

“Daddy!” she shouts as she runs right up to him and throws her arms around his waist. Iida looks down at the girl in shock before glancing towards the door where one of his sidekicks stood looking as confused as he felt.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” the sidekick says a bit awkwardly. “One of the interns found her wandering outside. She was asking people to help her find you, her dad.”

Iida wanted to deny the claim immediately. He would definitely know if he had a child, especially one who looked to be around eight years old. The idea became a lot less preposterous as he looked back down at the girl. Her hair color was as white as snow, a complete contrast to his dark blue. The thing that gave him pause were the two legs sticking out from under the dirty skirt the girl was wearing. Her legs looked skinny, too skinny, aside from her calves which had tiny exhaust pipes sticking out of them. The girl looks up at him after a moment to meet his gaze. His breathe catches in his throat at her blue eyes and checkmark shaped eyebrows that were iconic to the Iida family.

“Uh, thank you,” Iida felt flustered as he looks back at his sidekick who was blatantly starting at him in shock. “I’ll handle this from here. Do you mind asking someone to take over my patrol?” The sidekick accepts the job and hurries off, leaving Iida alone with the girl. Part of him felt really embarrassed that this had happened in front of his coworkers. He couldn’t imagine what they must think of him now. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to be involved with something that could be perceived as scandalous.

“What is your mother’s name?” Iida asks, even though he was sure he already knew. The list of possibilities was very small. The little girl goes up on her tiptoes and Iida bends down to meet her so she can whisper in his ear. He sighs heavily at the name that falls from her lips. It was just further confirmation that this wasn’t some crazy misunderstanding. The information settles into his mind. He was a father.

“Please don’t make me go back to her though,” the girl’s eyes brim with tears as she searches Iida’s face for comfort. “She’s scary.” Iida understood how the girl felt. If given the option, he would choose never to see that woman again either. She had only dated him for a brief time, pretending to be in love with him in order to take advantage of his fame until she found someone higher up in the ranks to seduce. He had been so shocked and heart broken when she’d left him so suddenly, but now there was no way to hide from that mistake of his past.

“Why do you say she’s scary?” Iida asks while putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She winces and flinches away from his touch. He narrows his eyes in concern and asks her to roll up her sleeves. His heart fills with sadness at the welts marring her frail arms. “I see,” he frowns. “I promise you won’t have to see her again if you don’t want to, but can you tell me where she lives?”

“I don’t know. We always have to sleep outside,” the girl explains warily, painting a rather sad image of her life.

“Well that just won’t do,” he pats her on the head. “I’m going to make sure you have a comfy, warm bed to sleep in from now on.” The girl’s face lights up happily and she hugs Iida even tighter. The shame he’d felt initially was gone now, replaced by a determination to provide his daughter with the best life possible.

Aizawa

Between all his hero work and being a full time teacher, Aizawa’s opportunities to simply sleep for a couple consecutive hours were few and far between. He took any chance he could to just shut his eyes and rest for a while. Tonight he’d hoped to get a decent amount of sleep in before having to wake up at the crack of dawn to attend a UA staff meeting. However, it seemed fate had other plans for him.

It was around one in the morning when a knock on his front door pulled him from the depths of his much needed slumber. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as he rolled out of bed, not even having the energy to be annoyed. “Who is it?” He asks while putting on his slippers and shuffling over to the door. There was no answer, so he pressed his face up to the peep hole. He let out a groan when he saw a random kid standing outside. If this was some kind of prank, he wasn’t sure he had the strength of mind to deal with it at this hour. He already put up with a whole class of teenagers every day who drained him of every drop of patience he had.

“Can I help you?” Aizawa mumbles after opening the door. The young boy in front of him looked to be about thirteen years old. The ends of his dark burgundy hair were frayed and had been cut sloppily as if he’d done it himself. He had outgrown his clothes a while ago, and they appeared uncomfortably small on his skinny frame. The poor kid looked extremely dirty and smelled even worse.

“Do you know this woman?” the haggard boy holds out an old photograph of a person Aizawa recognized immediately. It had been a very long time, but he’d never forget the face of the first woman he’d ever been with. He’d been so young and naïve at the time, and he still felt bitter toward the friend who’d set him up with a woman with such an atrocious personality. Aizawa knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“This is my mother,” the boy states the obvious fact. “And apparently you’re my dad.” Aizawa had no reason not to believe him as he looked into the boy’s tired eyes that matched his own. It was clear that life had not been kind to the kid so far.

“Come on in,” Aizawa invites his son inside, deciding to wait to involve the proper authorities until morning. “You can take a hot shower, and I think I have some leftovers we can heat up.”

“A shower?” the boy looked overwhelmed, as if the promise of a shower was more than he’d ever dared to hope for. Aizawa was growing more concerned with each passing second.

“Where is your mother now?” He asks and the boy shrugs.

“I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks,” he states as if that were normal. “I think she met some new guy.” That was enough to put Aizawa’s teeth on edge.

“Where have you been staying then?” he asks.

“Wherever I can,” the boy replies, sounding embarrassed. “Park benches, bus stops, train stations…” Aizawa was horrified. What kind of person left their child to survive in those conditions? Why hadn’t she ever reached out to him for help?

“What are these?” Aizawa reaches out to snatch up the boys arm. Now that he was inside where the lighting was better, he could see strange scars and scabs covering his skin.

“Cigarette burns,” the boy pulls his arm away and averts his eyes. “Mom thought it would make people more willing to help when I had to beg for money.” Aizawa felt his eyes fill with tears at the words, and he doesn’t think twice before pulling his son into his arms. The boy returns the embrace, clinging to Aizawa as if he feared the man might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” the boy asks fearfully after he calms down a bit.

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me,” Aizawa finds himself accepting the role of father rather quickly. He was already responsible for so many kids already, he didn’t see the harm in adding one more to the list. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yes, please!” The boy nods his head, looking ecstatic as he wiped away his tears. Aizawa nods his head and pats his son on the shoulder.

“Well then kid,” he says with a small smile. “Welcome home.”

------

Aizawa Tag List: @clovertitan @raine-needs-help @lucacangettathisass @lea2107-foxsin @tiaraowens

#Katsuki Bakugo #Tenya Iida #Shota Aizawa #Bnha #Mha #bnha imagines #mha imagines #Writing Requests #Cindy's Writing #katsuki bakugou #aizawa shouta #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios

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