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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 19 days ago

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Castlevania Characters Comforting GN! Reader After They Receive Bad/Scary News

A/N: Yes, this super-fast little headcanon piece was inspired by the US Election results. I did a lot of crying and mourning the day after and now I am ready to fight. I can’t offer you all a lot on this blog besides escapism and comfort, so I opted for the latter for this little post. They’re short (with some shorter than others) but I wanted to bang ones out for as many characters as quickly as possible.

Note: Politics are not mentioned in the headcanons below. GN! Reader’s upsetting/scary news is not directly mentioned, rather the focus is on how their partner would comfort them.

Word Count: 3.6k

Trevor:

Comfort, for most of his life, has been a stranger to Trevor. But that doesn’t mean he is incapable of providing it for his partner. It’s quite the opposite really.

Trevor will make sure you’re warm and cozy, wrapping you in his cloak or blankets, and sitting beside you.

Trevor won’t promise that everything will be okay, because, let’s face it, he knows better. Life isn’t always okay, it’s hard and unpredictable. As a result, Trevor feels empty sweet words aren't as comforting as they are infuriating or patronizing.

Instead, Trevor simply holds you and tells you that he will always be by your side- in every battle, through every hardship, and every sunrise- he will always be there for you.

Yes, Trevor’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s smart and wise when he wants to be. As hard and dangerous as life may be for you, you can trust he’s always observant, and on the lookout for anything else that may wish to do you harm.

If anyone wants to get to you, they’re gonna have to go through him first.

Sypha:

Sypha is naturally empathetic and nurturing, so comforting her loved ones after they receive bad news comes easily to her. She’s such a comforting presence herself that even if you were hesitant to explain your feelings, just spending time near Sypha reassures you in a way.

She makes sure you’re warm, especially your feet since hers are freezing all of the time.

Once you're settled comfortably, she pulls you into her chest and allows you to rest your head on her shoulder.

If you need to cry, that’s okay. She rubs a heated hand up and down your back as you let it all out. Her Speaker Magic ensures her hands are at the best temperature for soft, loving warm touches.

Alucard:

Alucard is no stranger to grief. He’s been given many reasons to mourn throughout his life, even if he’s had to temporarily compartmentalize those feelings to perform his more important duties.

But because Alucard has never had the opportunity to feel first and act later, he takes it upon himself to perform any obligations you may otherwise have while he lets you sit in your despair.

And should the level of pain prevent you from doing the things you need to do to take care of yourself, Alucard has no problem aiding you with those duties as well. He’ll cook you a nutritious meal, draw you a nice warm bath, and whisper you stories until you fall asleep.

He finds that your vulnerability prompts him to further open himself to you- your worry reminds him it’s okay to have his own. The two of you cry and commiserate, holding each other through the tears and sadness as well as the feelings of betrayal and anger.

Things may be difficult and dark ahead but as long as you can hold on to each other, Alucard swears all will be alright.

Greta:

Greta has endured a lot as the leader of her people. Even so, grief and anguish aren’t really her thing.

Still, she knows when other people have reached their emotional limit, and she’s quite good at getting them to open up to her in ways they may not have expected.

As her partner, know that she’s very observant and in tune with your emotions. Before you can even tell her that you’ve received bad news, she knows that already, just by the look on your face.

She’ll take you somewhere private, away from the other villagers’ prying eyes, where you can express freely how it is you feel.

Like Trevor, she won’t promise that all will end well, but she swears that no matter the storm, you don’t have to weather it alone—she’s not going anywhere.

Dracula:

Dracula is a loyal and obsessive lover, which makes him almost supernatural at detecting your moods/emotions.

He can read your face the way scholars read a book- he knows what it is you're thinking, and just how it is you’re thinking of it.

If you’re shaken up or upset, or incredibly angry at some news you’ve just received, Dracula will not only do everything in his power to console you but to amend whatever issue it is that has you so worked up.

If someone has wronged you, he will kill them, it’s as simple as that. (Unless, of course, you beg him not to, in which case, he cannot help but do as you ask.)

If you’re worried about your coming physical safety, fear not. He simply takes it upon himself to accompany you everywhere you go. (He’s learned this lesson the hard way, and he’s not about to lose another love in this manner.)

If all else fails, Dracula will encourage you to do what you must to feel better: to release these feelings any way you know how. If you need to scream or cry or hurt a human or two, he does not judge you for it. You are his beloved human, and he is nothing but in awe of your emotional spectrum. Even though he despises the ignorance of humanity, Dracula cannot ignore the beauty that exists in feeling alive.

Lisa:

Lisa is a doctor, and she’s very used to delivering bad or unsavory news to her patients. Of course, it’s much more difficult for her to do so when she’s handling you, but she still puts on a brave and wise face for your sake.

If it's a problem she can help you with, you can rest assured she will use every bit of knowledge, every tool at her disposal to make you feel better. And if it is a problem of society, not medicine, or science, she still tries her hardest to cheer you up.

She reminds you of all the scientific advancements humanity has made thus far. Sure, many times things have been forgotten, or left to the wayside, but knowledge is forever. And just because the majority of people refuse to accept or believe in something, does not mean that science is dead.

She will help you archive and preserve your experience as she believes leaving knowledge behind for future generations, even emotional and personal knowledge is a must.

And on the nights when it all feels hopeless, she will brush your hair and sing you lullabies, like the ones she sang to Adrian all those years ago.

Hector:

Hector is a very emotional person. It’s his sensitivity that led him to discover his forgemaster abilities, and partly due to that, he sees his sensitivity as a strength.

He cares for all wounded animals, and don’t think for a second that he won’t drop absolutely everything else to care for you, his partner!

He will call over all your favorite reanimated pets and orchestrate a giant cuddle pile, especially in the coming days if he has to return to work/can’t hold you 24/7. He ensures you’re never lonely or frightened by creating a night creature guard who he orders to protect you with its life.

Hector is very interested in your thoughts and opinions about your grief. He wants to know exactly what it is that hurts you, and how it’s materialized within the world, so he can record it in his teachings/books for later scholars to come to understand.

Hector truly loves just having you near, holding you close, be it in bed, or seated outside enjoying a beautiful sunny day. He loves picnicking with you, showing you all the little amazing things the world has created, from the single blades of grass, to all the little bugs and creatures that call it home, and to the gorgeous blue sky, and the many different species of birds that travel through it.

He knows humans can be cruel. He knows the world can be ugly, but he also knows it can be beautiful, and more than anything, he wishes to share that with you, because, well, he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful things in it.

Isaac:

Isaac has a naturally soothing presence. Just him being there for you makes you feel less unsteady.

Once he calms you down enough so that you can speak without sobbing, he'll ask for as much information as he can. He’s not trying to rib or interrogate you, it’s just that he wishes to be as equally aware of the subject as you are.

Being a very wise man, Isaac will offer advice on the situation, when applicable. And when it isn’t, he simply assures you that within his palace, so long as you are surrounded by his night creatures and those of a like mind, no harm will come to you.

He encourages you to sit and meditate with him. The two of you sit close to the ground, breathing in and out. It doesn’t undo what has happened, but it helps make you feel more in control of your future. All that Isaac asks, in imagining the possibilities of such a wonderful future, you include him in it.

Godbrand:

Let’s be honest, Godbrand is pretty darn observant, but only half of the time. So, after you receive bad news, he’s either made aware at about the same time you are, or he’s 100% in the dark until you tell him to his face what has happened.

If he doesn’t pick up on your soured mood, he’ll be a big grumpy baby about it. He complains when you don’t laugh at his jokes, or compliment his prowess after he tells the group a story of one of his recent spoils. He keeps picking at your expression until you’ll eventually have enough, and feel petty enough to spite him.

It’s only after a week of you reeking of garlic that he relents and asks what the hell’s wrong.

You throw a bulb of garlic at his head.

In the event he has picked up on your mood, he assumes he’s done or said something to (ahem, once again) offend you. He’ll bring you jewelry or flowers or clothes or some of that mushy shit in an attempt to apologize. And when you tell him that this time, he’s in fact done nothing wrong, he bursts out laughing. The ridiculousness of the situation causes you to laugh too and before you know it the two of you are enjoying a night of merriment and drink, teasingly but lovingly, laughing at the other’s antics.

Raman and Sharma:

Whatever this news is, you can bet their response will be similar.

They’ll lavish you with fine gifts- gold, jewelry, and silks- but don’t expect too much emotional support.

They adore you, but they also believe you to be this precious ornament, the rarest gem in their crown. You may have feelings, and be a multidimensional human, but they simply cannot see you that way.

For them, humans are stupid, weak, imbeciles that are par in comparison to them. But you, you are not stupid, nor weak, nor an imbecile, and while they certainly don’t believe you rival them per se, they do believe you’re worthy of their attention.

They tell you to forget about other people. You have them now. And if they’re being honest, what better news could a person like you possibly receive than that?

Cho:

Cho has never been one to care for weakness, be it physical or emotional. However, she has been known to make an exception on occasion for you.

These feelings of grief, or anger- whatever they may be, she tolerates you exhibiting them so long as you do not ask her to physically comfort you.

If you wish to be cuddled, she has other human servants in her court who could provide such service for you.

While she claims to be unmoved by your situation, however, she does make a note of finding out if someone or something in particular has caused you this distress. When you ask her about it later, she feigns ignorance as to why that person or that thing has suddenly disappeared.

Dragoslav:

Dragoslav is a very practical, no-nonsense kind of man. He was that way even before he was turned into a vampire.

He understands that humans and vampires have feelings because of course they do. But he does not see the reason for giving in to such things all the damn time.

Where he comes from, people are usually very hardy, they do not complain about having to weather life’s many difficulties.

However, as he is a vampire aristocrat, he’s become accustomed to a certain degree of luxury. This privilege has made him soft, in a way. His simple approach to believing merely being a vampire is enough to allow him to feel no threat nor shame when you confess your feelings of grief or anger to him.

He lets you indulge in your feelings for a short period, perhaps even daring to sit with you as you talk through them, before telling you to brush your shoulders off and become strong once more.

Zufall:

Zufall (second only to Dracula) is closest to what you’d assume a stereotypical European vampire is like.

In his immortality, Zufall prefers to be alone and chooses rather to surround himself with books and trinkets as opposed to a court full of servants.

However, he does take an interest in humans as temporary companions. You are warm and interesting, and so eager to satisfy him, how could he resist the temptation to have a handful of you in rotation at any given time?

You are one of his favorites, and while he will not ever regard you as an equal, he does truly wish for you to be content with his company. If you’ve received bad news, and are looking downcast, he will enquire about it, asking to know if there is perhaps something about your room or your enrichments that he can alter.

If you are more on the hysterical side, Zufall will even begrudgingly allow you to hold him, as he runs his clawed fingers gently up and down your back. He hushes you before telling you parts of a fable he can recall from back when he was still a human boy. His deep voice and strong accent help lull you to sleep.

Carmilla:

Upon finding out you’re upset because you’ve received bad news, she’s filled with both annoyance and rage. Who dares to upset you? Don’t they know better than to trifle with her precious human? She will make them pay, whoever did this, whatever caused this. She will slice it to death with her claws if need be.

If your news isn’t caused by the actions of one other person, but let’s say a mood or an opinion of society, she rolls her eyes, before pulling you close to tell you that you have nothing to worry about.

Society is what’s kept her powerless and secondary all these years, she has no respect for its select worship and demonization of certain people and powers that be.

She makes sure you’re pampered: the finest linens and silks, the best meals, and the best wine Styria has to offer if all yours with a snap of your fingers.

She tells you not to worry, dear pet. She swears the world will soon bend to accommodate both yourself and her. And should anyone dare to stand in your way, she will squash them like the insignificant bug they are.

Overall, she’s a little dramatic and murder-y about it, but it’s only because she loves you, and she knows how hard living (or nonliving) is when you’ve been made to feel small. She never wants you to know that pain. And you won’t, so long as she has something to say about it.

Lenore:

Lenore is a natural peacekeeper, so when she notices you are upset, she immediately sets out to do something about it.

She will ask if there’s anything you would like help with, or if there’s perhaps anything she can get for you.

If someone else is causing problems for you, she offers to act as a go-between or mediator of sorts and talk it out on your behalf. She insists on it, especially if the person causing you great distress or giving you bad news is one of her sisters.

Striga & Morana:

Striga and Morana are very practical thinkers, even if Striga is prone to outbursts occasionally. As a team, they are strategic experts in execution. As such they notice small changes in your mood. You don't even have to confide in them before they ask you what’s wrong.

Striga offers to torture or kill whoever’s causing you to feel this helpless meanwhile Morana makes you a soothing cup of tea.

It can be a lot to take in at once, two people who love you who want to protect you, assisting you in the very distinct ways they know how, but you know it is because they treasure your company.

If this news is not something that can be fixed, they will hold you sandwiched in between them as you let out your feelings, be it by crying or simply voicing your frustrations.

St. Germain:

St. Germain tends to get carried away in his train of thought, so he is not always privy to your feelings and opinions.

You would have to confide in him that you’ve received such devastating news, otherwise he would be completely oblivious.

He still swears he has no clue as to why his previous lover left him, something that haunts him to this day. So the minute you tell him something’s wrong, he drops everything he’s doing and listens.

He’ll hold you close to him and whisper sweet things into your ear, telling you how much he loves you and values you. He ensures you this world, and countless others, are greater with you in it. He begs for you to internalize that. He truly doesn’t believe he could survive without you.

All he knows is that this world, as well as his life, would be poorer if you were not in it.

Ratko:

Ratko is not a sensitive man, but he does recognize the importance of sharing news with your loved ones, so he will insist you tell him what you know, as soon as you know it.

When he learns it’s distressing, he sighs and reminds you that when you are close to a victorious vampire, such news should not matter.

Still, if you are shaken up or angry, he will relent and allow you to sit in your emotions for a time.

When he thinks it’s appropriate (most likely sooner than you would have), he demands your presence, bringing you to a surprise. It may be good human food, it may be money, it may be clothes, either way, those things matter not to Ratko. To him, they are merely symbols of wealth and victory.

But that is why he insists you enjoy them. Despite whatever news you receive, he insists that you spend every waking moment feeling victorious- because you are.

He thinks most humans are stupid pigs, beings he feels no need to respect. But with you, he is in awe of you. That alone, he will remind you, should make you feel more worthy than any other human on the planet.

Varney/Death:

Varney is an enigma, mainly because he’s playing dual roles. As Varney, he is compelled to embellish and dramatize his thoughts and feelings, and he will respond similarly to your own. On the other hand, as Death, he is compelled to be stoic and serious, gleefully capturing souls after they’ve departed.

In the chance your upsetting news is the loss of a loved one, he will know before you. (Because you know, he is Death after all.) But for your sake, he will act shocked when you tell him. It may be a lie, but it’s meant for your benefit. He’d rather lie and validate your feelings than tell the truth and make you feel more alone.

In the case your news is not a death, he will learn of it only if you tell him. And when you do, he tries to listen, and not tune you out. It’s a difficult task, the ups and downs of a single human life tend to seem too trivial to him, but for you, he makes an exception.

And while he cannot directly kill all the people who have upset you, should your news be centered around the actions of a large group of people, he will make a point to consume their souls much slower than others, telling such folks he is doing it as an act of vengeance in your name.

A/N 2.0: Can you tell I have a favorite background character or two? Lol.

As always, if you enjoyed reading this work, please Like but more importantly, REBLOG.

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jetii · 29 days ago

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Too Sweet

Part One | Part Two | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,514/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, this chapter is more dark/intense than the others oopsie, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Sorry in advance for Thorn and the sads. I'll make it up to you next part. 💙

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

The next few weeks are a blur.

Fox is pulled in so many directions that he can barely keep up. Between the Senate meetings, the riots, the constant flow of paperwork, and the barrage of complaints from his brothers, it's a miracle he's able to sleep at all.

But the time he spends talking to you is a bright spot in an otherwise dreary existence.

It's a welcome relief, and he finds himself looking forward to your messages, eagerly anticipating each new one. You're funny, and thoughtful, and you're able to get him to open up, which is something that hasn't happened in a long time. It's strange, and a little scary, but he can't bring himself to stop, and the longer it goes on, the more he feels like he's starting to slip.

He knows that you're only talking to him because of the grant, and the thought that you could be using him makes his stomach churn. But he doesn't think you would, and the fact that you seem genuinely interested in his well-being is something that he can't ignore. You always ask him how he's doing, if he's getting any sleep, and your concern is obvious, and yet, it still catches him off guard. He's not used to being cared for, and the way you treat him, like he matters, like he's human, is so different than anything he's ever experienced before.

Fox doesn't tell his brothers about you. He's not sure why, but the thought of telling anyone about his friendship with you makes him nervous. There's something special, something fragile, about what you have, and he doesn't want anyone to ruin it.

But, the secret doesn't last long.

One of the guard squadrons is ambushed during a routine patrol, and Thorn is caught in the crossfire. When Fox gets the report, he immediately heads for the med center, and when he gets there, he sees a group of troopers gathered outside the entrance. They're talking quietly amongst themselves, and they all look nervous. One of the men sees him and waves him over, a grim expression on his face.

"What happened?" Fox asks, his heart sinking. "Is he okay?"

"He's stable," Burst replies, and Fox lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. "But they won't let us see him."

"They won't?"

"No, sir," he sighs. "Something about hospital policy."

Fox frowns, a cold fury filling him. The fact that they would deny his brothers, his family, the chance to see their brother is infuriating, and the idea that Thorn was sitting in the medical ward, alone and hurt, makes his blood boil.

"I'll take care of it," Fox says, and Burst nods, looking relieved.

He pushes past the group, his fists clenched, and walks inside, heading straight for the front desk. The nurse looks up at him, his expression blank, and the look on his face must be enough, because his eyes widen, and he sits up.

"How may I—"

"Thorn," he growls. "Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, but we have a strict no visitors policy," the nurse says. His voice is calm, but his fingers are tapping on the desk, and the action betrays his nerves. "I can't—"

"Show me where he is," Fox demands. His voice is low, and the troopers behind him shift uncomfortably.

"Commander," the nurse says, a note of panic in his voice. "Please, calm down. If you'd just—"

"No," he interrupts, leaning over the desk. The nurse recoils, and Fox can see the fear in his eyes. Good. He should be afraid. If he didn't show him where Thorn was, he'd—

“Fox.”

The sound of your voice cuts through the red haze in his mind, and he pauses, turning towards you. Your eyes are wide, and there's a concerned crease between your brows. The sight of you, the way you're looking at him, brings him back to his senses, and he pulls back, taking a deep breath.

"What's going on?" you ask, frowning.

"I need to see Thorn," Fox says, his tone sharp. He doesn't mean to take his anger out on you, but the frustration is still there, simmering beneath the surface, and he can't seem to let it go. "They won't let me."

"He's not allowed any visitors," you explain softly. You glance at the nurse, and she nods, scurrying off. "He's in intensive care."

"I don't care," Fox snaps. He's tired, and the stress is making his temper short, and the last thing he wants is to get into an argument with you. "I'm not leaving until I see him."

"Fox." You walk over to him, and he feels his resolve weaken. There's a look in your eyes, something pleading, that makes his chest tighten, and he can't ignore it. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing gently. "I know you're worried, but please, trust me. I'm not keeping you from him. I would never do that."

The anger slowly fades, and the tension drains from his body.

"I know," he mutters.

"He's stable," you say. Your grip on his hand tightens, and the contact is reassuring. "He'll be okay. I promise."

Fox nods, his shoulders slumping. He's not sure what he was expecting, but the truth of your words hits him hard. You're not lying. You would never lie to him, and the fact that he had doubted you, even for a moment, leaves him feeling sick.

"Can I at least check on him?" he asks. "Make sure he's..."

"It's against protocol, but..." You trail off, biting your lip, and then give him a small smile. "Just a few minutes."

"Thank you," he breathes.

"Come on," you say, tugging on his hand. "He's in the surgical ward."

He lets you lead him down the hallway, passing the group of troopers as you do. They watch the two of you go, and Fox knows that the rumor mill is going to be buzzing tomorrow. The thought makes him cringe, but the knowledge that Thorn was alive, and safe, is all he can focus on.

"I'm sorry," Fox mutters as the two of you walk. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "You were worried."

"Still." He glances down at your joined hands, and he can't help but wonder why you haven't let go. The thought of it being because you enjoy the contact, because you like touching him, is absurd, but the thought lingers.

"You don't have to apologize," you say, squeezing his hand. "I know how you feel."

"Oh, really?" Fox raises an eyebrow. "How many times have you threatened the staff?"

"Well, I haven't had the pleasure, but I can't say that the thought hasn't crossed my mind," you tease.

"You, threatening someone?" he snorts. "I doubt that."

"You'd be surprised."

You come to a stop outside a set of double doors, and you swipe a card through the reader. The doors slide open, and you step inside, pulling him with you.

The ward is quiet, and the sterile smell of bacta assaults his nose. He wrinkles his nose, and you smile, your fingers twitching around his. The movement is subtle, but he notices, and he gives you a small smile in return.

"This is him," you murmur, stopping in front of a door.

You press a button on the control panel, and the door slides open, revealing a dimly lit room. A bed is pushed up against the wall, and there's a machine hooked up to a figure laying on it. Fox's breath catches, and he lets go of your hand, stepping inside. The door closes behind him, and he stands there, staring at the form of his brother.

Thorn's armor is gone, and his chest is covered in bandages. His face is pale, and his hair is matted with blood, and the sight is enough to make Fox's throat tighten. He's still alive, but he looks so small, so fragile, that Fox has to resist the urge to reach out and shake him, to wake him from whatever nightmare he's trapped in.

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I should've warned you."

"It's fine," he whispers, and the words are almost lost in the silence of the room.

He turns to look at you, and the sympathy in your eyes is enough to break him. He lets out a shaky breath, the tension draining out of him and leaving him feeling hollow. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, his vision is blurry, and the tears spill over. He tries to wipe them away, but they keep coming, and he turns away, ashamed.

You don't say anything, but your hand finds his, and you squeeze, your thumb rubbing circles into his skin. It's a simple gesture, but it means so much, and Fox lets himself lean into you, just a little, letting your warmth ground him.

The two of you stand there, silent, listening to the beeping of the machines. The room is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of sheets, and the only light comes from the monitors and the glow from the hallway. It's peaceful, in a way, but Fox knows it's a temporary reprieve, a brief respite from the chaos. As soon as he leaves, he'll be back in the fray, dealing with the riots, the protests, the Senate. And without Thorn, things will be even more difficult.

"It'll be okay," you murmur, your voice soft.

Fox doesn't reply. He can't.

"Fox."

He looks down at you, his expression grim. Your eyes are wide, your brows furrowed, a hint of concern on your face. You squeeze his hand, as if trying to comfort him, but he pulls away, the gesture too intimate, too close.

"He'll be okay," you insist, your tone gentle.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks, his voice breaking.

He's tired, exhausted, the weight of his duties pulling him down, dragging him into a darkness that he can't escape. He's lost so many brothers already, the loss of one more would be unbearable, and he can't help but wonder if he's cursed, if his luck is finally running out.

"I know," you say, and there's an edge to your voice that surprises him. "Trust me."

Fox swallows thickly and nods. You reach out, your hand cupping his cheek. The touch is light, but the gesture is meaningful, and his heart skips a beat. Your eyes meet his, and your gaze is filled with such conviction, such strength, that he can't look away. "I won't let him."

"Okay," Fox murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

The two of you lapse into silence again, and Fox can't seem to tear his eyes away from you. There's something different about the way you're looking at him, something that he can't quite name, and it leaves him feeling raw and exposed.

He knows you're not lying, but the thought that you could possibly care so much about him is terrifying. You're so warm, so kind, so sweet, and he doesn't understand how someone like you could ever be interested in him. And yet, the way you're looking at him, the concern written on your face, tells him that it's true.

Fox reaches up and covers your hand with his, pressing it closer. You smile, and the sadness in your eyes melts away, replaced by a warmth that fills him with hope. He takes a step closer, and you close the distance between you, your body pressed against his. His free hand finds its way to your hip, and the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms. It's comforting, and Fox lets his eyes fall closed, savoring the moment.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice cracking. He knows he should let go, that it's probably inappropriate for him to be so close to you, but he can't bring himself to move, and you don't seem to mind. Your hand moves from his cheek to his neck, your fingers lightly stroking his skin, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

"Anytime," you murmur.

The two of you pull back, and the loss of contact makes his heart ache, but the look on your face is enough to soothe him. You smile at him and then step away, walking over to the bed. You check the monitors and smooth out the sheets. “He should be awake in a few days. I'll let you know when."

He clears his throat and nods. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to escort you out?"

"No, no, I can find my way."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay." You give him a small smile, and his chest tightens.

"I'll see you around," he says, and the words feel inadequate, but they're the only ones he can think of.

"You will." You hesitate, and then lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Take care of yourself, Commander."

"I'll try," he murmurs. He gives you a small smile, and then heads for the door, his mind racing. When the door closes behind him, he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The scent of lavender lingers in the air, and the warmth of your lips on his cheek is like a brand. He lifts a hand and brushes his fingers against the spot, his stomach fluttering.

When he turns to leave, the men outside the room are nowhere to be found, and he lets out a sigh.

So much for secrecy.

"Well, well, well, looks like the commander has a new girlfriend."

Fox looks up, his eyes narrowing. Thire is leaning against the door frame, a grin on his face. Behind him, Stone is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

"What are you talking about?" Fox asks, his tone flat.

"Word around the barracks is that you're sweet on a nurse," Thire teases, and he winks at him. "A cute one, too, by the sounds of it."

Fox bristles, offended on your behalf. It had been three days since the incident at the medical center, and Thorn was doing better. You'd been true to your word, and you'd kept him updated on his condition, sending him daily messages about his progress. Fox hadn't expected anything, but the fact that you'd kept your promise, and the fact that you seemed to genuinely care about his brother's wellbeing, was touching. He wasn't used to people keeping their word, and the gesture was more meaningful than you probably realized.

“She’s a doctor," Fox mutters, returning his attention to the report in front of him. "And she's not my girlfriend.”

"That's not what Thorn’s men are saying," Stone comments. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. "You were awfully cozy with her."

"It was nothing."

"You held hands, Commander."

"We were—" Fox breaks off, his face heating up. You’d held hands, hadn't you? You'd touched him, held him, and he'd let you, had wanted you to. He shakes his head. "She was being nice. She let me see Thorn."

"So, the rumors aren't true?" Thire asks, raising an eyebrow. "You're not sleeping with her?"

"No," Fox scoffs. The idea is ridiculous. Him? Sleeping with someone like you? That would never happen. You were too sweet, too kind, and the thought of you with someone like him, someone cold and harsh and damaged, was ludicrous. "She's a friend."

"Right," Stone mutters, exchanging a knowing look with Thire. "A friend."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Thire says, smirking. “Just that you've been spending a lot of time with her lately."

"So?"

"So, she must be pretty special."

"She is," Fox snaps. He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, and he quickly turns away, staring intently at the report on his desk. The words blur, and he frowns, his brows knitting together.

Special. Was that what you were? To him? You'd certainly been a bright spot in his life, a ray of sunshine through the storm clouds that were constantly hovering over his head. You were kind, and warm, and gentle, and the thought of you, and the way you made him feel, was something he was starting to crave.

Oh.

Oh, no.

"Shit," Fox murmurs, closing his eyes.

He'd never felt like this before. He'd never had time for relationships, never had the opportunity, and he'd always assumed that the feelings he'd heard his brothers describe, the butterflies and the warmth and the longing, were exaggerations. But now, faced with the realization that they might be real, he wasn't sure what to do.

He was in trouble. Big trouble.

“Shit."

"Something wrong?" Thire asks, and his voice is filled with amusement.

"No," Fox snaps, glaring at him. "Just go away."

"Sure, boss," Thire chuckles.

Stone smirks and winks at him, and the two of them turn and leave.

Fox sighs, dropping his head into his hands. He'd been trying to avoid this, trying to avoid thinking about the warmth in his chest whenever he talked to you, the way his stomach fluttered whenever you smiled at him, the way his skin tingled when you touched him. Physical attraction was one thing, but this...this was different. And it was a complication he didn't need.

His comm beeps, and he picks it up, his stomach dropping when he sees who it is. He presses a button, and a holo-image of you appears. You're wearing your scrubs, and there's a smile on your face that makes his heart race.

"Hey," you greet, giving him a small wave.

"Hi," he manages.

"I just wanted to let you know that Thorn's going to be discharged tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," you say, and the smile on your face grows. "He's doing great. We think he'll make a full recovery."

“Get me out of here, Fox!” a familiar voice yells. Fox scowls as the projection widens to show Thorn sitting up in his bed beside you, a wide grin on his face. The bandages are gone, and he looks healthy, if not a little tired. "I'm going stir crazy."

"Thorn, you need to rest," you scold, and you push his face away, but not before Fox catches a glimpse of the darkened shade of your cheeks.

Thorn winks at him, and a wave of protectiveness crashes over him. Of course, Thorn had been flirting with you, it was in his nature. His brother has always had a certain...charm, but the last thing he wants is for him to use it on you.

"I've been stuck in this bed for days," Thorn whines. "I'm not made for laying around."

"Well, it's not my fault you were shot," you tease, and Fox bristles, a strange emotion coiling in his chest. Thorn laughs and pokes you in the side. You yelp and bat his hand away, and the sound of your laughter makes his stomach twist.

"Sorry about that," you murmur. Your eyes are sparkling, and there's a faint blush on your cheeks. "He's feeling better, as you can see."

"I'm glad," Fox replies, and it's the truth. If Thorn was feeling good, and joking around, and being an annoyance, that meant that he was fine, and Fox could stop worrying. Well, he could move on to worrying about something else, anyway.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you say with a sigh. "I know you're busy. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks," he says softly. "For everything."

"Don't mention it." You give him a smile, and his breath catches. Even in a hologram, you're beautiful.

"Bye, Fox," Thorn calls out.

"Go to sleep," you groan. You give him a pointed look, and he laughs, waving you off. Fox's stomach twists again, and he grips the comm a little tighter.

"Take care of yourself," you say softly. You hesitate for a moment, and the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. "Comm me later, okay?"

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" he blurts out. He doesn't know what makes him say it. The words just spill out of his mouth, and before he can stop himself, he's committed. "We could talk about the proposal."

"I..." You look surprised, and your eyes widen. He wonders for a moment if he's pushed it, and the longer you stare at him, the more nervous he becomes.

"I'm sorry, I'm on shift until midnight," you sigh. "How about tomorrow night?"

"That's fine," he says quickly.

"Great," you say, beaming at him. The joy on your face is infectious, and the knot in his stomach loosens. "I’ll comm you later.”

"Sounds good."

"See you soon," you say, waving.

"Bye," he manages, and the call ends.

The silence of the room is deafening, and Fox sits there, staring at the spot where your holoprojection had been. His chest aches, and his skin feels too tight, and he can't seem to catch his breath. He stands up and paces, running his hands through his hair, his thoughts racing.

This was bad. This was very bad. The last thing he needed was to start having feelings for you. His life was complicated enough already, and the thought of dealing with this, on top of everything else, was overwhelming.

But the longer he thought about it, the more the reality set in. There was no denying it. He'd developed feelings for you, strong ones, and there was no going back. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

You were sweet, and funny, and beautiful, and the thought of having a chance with you was thrilling. Sure, it might not be reciprocated, but the possibility, however slim, was enough. If you felt the same way, he could deal with the rest. He could handle it.

Couldn't he?

Fox groans and throws himself back into his chair.

This was going to be a problem.

The next night, Fox walks into the diner and heads straight for a booth. You're already there, and you stand, smiling. The sight makes his heart skip a beat, and the urge to pull you into his arms is almost overwhelming. Instead, he walks over, stopping in front of you. You smile at him, and the warmth in your eyes is enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"Hey, stranger," you tease, and he blushes, looking away. "Long time no see."

Fox snorts. He’d just seen you that morning. You'd commed him as he was heading to a meeting with the Chancellor, and he'd had to excuse himself to answer you. He'd only talked to you for a minute, but the memory of the sound of your voice had stayed with him the entire day.

"It's been less than twelve hours,” he reminds you, his lips twitching.

"Too long."

"For me, too."

The words are out before he can stop them, and your eyes widen, a light flush coloring your cheeks. He blinks, his stomach dropping. Stars, had he really said that? Out loud? In front of you?

Fox quickly sits down, avoiding your gaze. The waitress droid appears, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence between the two of you stretches, and the tension grows. You fidget, your fingers drumming on the table, and Fox stares at the table, his heart hammering.

"So," you murmur. "How was work?"

"Fine," he mutters. He lets out a breath and lifts his gaze. "How was your shift?"

“Fine," you shrug. There's a smile on your face, but it doesn't reach your eyes. You're nervous, and the realization makes him relax. If you're just as anxious as he is, then maybe this will be okay. "Busy."

"You should take a break."

"I will when you will,” you counter, raising an eyebrow.

He can’t help but smirk at the challenge in your tone. You'd always been like this, hadn't you? Teasing him, trying to get a reaction out of him. But now, it seemed more deliberate, and the thought that you might be trying to get his attention sends a thrill through him.

"I could be persuaded," he murmurs. The words are bolder than anything he'd ever said to you before, and the surprise on your face makes him smirk.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhmm."

"Good to know," you grin. You lean forward, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, and there's a mischievous glint in your eye that makes his mouth go dry. "You should give me some ideas."

"Ideas?"

"Yeah," you tease. You wink at him, and his pulse jumps. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Suggestions," he repeats, his voice faint.

"Mm-hmm."

"Well," he says, clearing his throat. He shifts in his seat, the armor suddenly feeling too tight. Your eyes are fixed on his, and the intensity of your gaze makes him squirm. "I suppose we could—"

"Here you go!"

The droid interrupts him, and the plates of food are placed in front of the two of you. You sit up, the moment broken, and Fox takes the opportunity to collect himself. What had he been about to say? What had you wanted him to say?

The conversation moves back to the subject of the proposal, and Fox listens as you explain the details. You're enthusiastic, and passionate, and the more you talk, the more his heart warms.

You were perfect, weren't you? Perfect for him, and the longer he spends with you, the more he realizes it. He watches you eat, your eyes sparkling, and he can't look away. He doesn't want to. He could listen to you talk forever, could spend the rest of his life sitting across from you, watching you, listening to you.

He can't stop himself from imagining what it would be like to have you around all the time, to spend the nights with you instead of alone. It would be nice, he thinks, to have someone to come home to, someone who would make him feel warm, and wanted, and safe. You'd do that, wouldn't you? If he asked. If he said the right things, if he made the right moves.

You would, he realizes, his heart racing.

"So, what do you think?" you ask, and the question snaps him back to the present.

“What?”

"Do you think the Chancellor would approve the funding?"

"Oh," he murmurs, blinking. He takes a sip of his drink and clears his throat. "I already talked to him about it, actually."

"You did?" You look surprised, and his chest puffs up a little. The fact that you're impressed by his efforts makes him feel smug. "When?"

"A few days ago," he admits, shrugging. “And again when you called this morning. I told him how important it was to the city, and the refugees, and he agreed to review the proposal."

"Really?"

"Really."

"That's..." You trail off, your expression stunned. You let out a relieved sigh and sit back in your chair. "That's...wow. That's incredible."

"He was intrigued," Fox explains. "Especially after I told him how hard you were working on it. He wanted me to thank you for your efforts, and for your commitment."

That was an understatement. The Chancellor had been delighted to hear about your plan, and his enthusiasm had surprised Fox. The man had seemed genuinely impressed by your initiative, and he'd promised Fox that he'd look into it personally. Fox had thanked him, but he was still a little stunned.

It was rare that the Chancellor showed so much interest in something like this, and he wondered if there was an ulterior motive. But, the man had always been kind to him, and the praise had made him feel proud, so he'd decided not to question it.

He was far too occupied with picturing the look on your face when you heard the news, anyway.

"That's...wow," you murmur. There are tears in your eyes, and the expression on your face is so happy, so hopeful, that he can't help but smile. "That's amazing. You’re amazing."

The compliment makes his cheeks burn. You're looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and the adoration in your gaze makes his stomach flutter. He's never had anyone look at him like that before, and the rush of affection that follows is dizzying.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours, and your eyes widen. The look on your face is vulnerable, and sweet, and he wants to kiss you so badly that he has to clench his jaw to keep from leaning forward and taking what he wants.

"It was nothing," he says, his voice low. He squeezes your hand, and you bite your lip, your eyes dropping to his mouth. "You're the one who put in the work."

"I couldn't have done it without you," you murmur, and you squeeze his hand in return. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he promises, and the emotion in your eyes makes his heart skip a beat. You look away, blinking back tears, and the moment passes, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence.

Fox lets go of your hand and grabs his sandwich. He takes a bite and watches you eat, a fond smile on his face. You're staring out the window, a thoughtful expression on your face, and the glow of the city lights makes you look even more beautiful than usual. The feeling of warmth spreads through him, and the knowledge that he's responsible for the joy on your face fills him with satisfaction.

You turn and meet his gaze, and the look in your eyes is enough to make his heart stop.

"What?" you ask, grinning.

"Nothing," he murmurs, his cheeks heating up. He looks down at his food, but not before catching the way your face falls. "I'm just..." He trails off, trying to find the right words. "I'm glad I met you."

"Oh," you breathe. The softness in your voice makes him look up, and the smile on your face is bright enough to blind him. "I'm glad I met you, too."

He smiles back, and the two of you fall silent, returning to your meals. The noise of the diner surrounds them, and Fox finds himself relaxing, a contentment filling him. He's enjoying the moment, the peace, and he's surprised by how happy he is. For once, his mind isn't racing, his thoughts aren't plagued by the stress of his duties. There's only you, and the sound of your laughter, and the scent of lavender that fills his lungs every time he inhales.

And for a brief moment, a fleeting second, Fox is almost able to believe that everything is going to be alright.

It doesn’t last.

You’re in the middle of telling him a story about one of your coworkers, and he's listening, enraptured by the sound of your voice, when his comm beeps. He ignores it, too caught up in the moment to care, and it goes silent.

But then it beeps again, and then again, and he sighs, giving you an apologetic look.

"Hold on a second," he mutters.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just—"

Fox freezes, his eyes drifting over your shoulder to look out the window. It’s late, and the street outside should be emptying out, but there's a crowd of people moving outside. They’re pointing and backing away, and the murmuring of their voices is filled with panic. His skin prickles, and a sense of unease fills him. Something's wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Fox," you murmur.

He stands abruptly, grabbing his helmet from the booth and jamming it onto his head. People are starting to run past the windows, and the screams outside are getting louder.

“Stay here,” he orders, and his voice is cold, the tone he uses when he's on duty. You blink, clearly surprised by the sudden change in his demeanor, but you don't protest, and he heads for the door.

Before he can make it far, there’s a rumbling under his feet, and the building shakes. The lights flicker, and the tables rattle, and the patrons let out panicked cries. Fox turns back and sees you standing, looking around in confusion.

"Get down!" he yells, and he crosses the room, reaching you in a few strides. He grabs your arm and drags you under a table, shielding you with his body. He presses your head into his chest, holding you close. Your arms wrap around him, and the two of you huddle there, the sounds of screams and panic filling the air.

"What's happening?" you ask, your voice shaking.

"I don't know."

There's another rumble, and the building shakes again. You tighten your grip on him, and he presses his head against yours, trying to comfort you. The lights flicker once more, and then go out, plunging the diner into darkness. A few people let out panicked cries, and then the building shudders, and a horrible, grating sound fills the air.

The following silence is deafening.

"Are you okay?" Fox asks as his hands move from your back to your face, tilting your head up.

"Yeah, I think so," you murmur. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, his heart pounding, and he keeps his hand there as he activates his comm. "What about you?"

"I'm fine."

The line opens, and a cacophony of voices fills his ears. The noise is chaotic, and it takes a moment for him to understand what's happening.

“—can’t get ahold of him—"

"—need to evacuate the area, there could be more—"

"Thire, Stone," Fox barks. "Report."

"Sir, we've got multiple detonations at Level 5000,” Thire replies, his voice strained. "They knocked out the entire grid."

"Casualties?"

"Unknown, sir."

Fox swears under his breath, and you press closer to him, your grip tightening. A targeted attack on the power grid was no accident, and the implications of that fact send a shiver down his spine. This is exactly what they'd been worried about, what he'd warned the Chancellor about. But he'd never expected it to happen so quickly, or so suddenly.

"Thorn and the others are evacuating the Senate building," Stone informs him. "The Chancellor is sending out an emergency message."

"What about the security teams at the station?" Fox asks.

"We're trying to get ahold of them," Thire says, his tone grim. "There's too much interference."

“I’m on my way. Stay alert, we might have more coming our way."

"Copy that, sir."

"Be careful," Stone warns. “And…sorry for interrupting your date."

Fox rolls his eyes and cuts the connection. He sits up, and the two of you scramble out from under the table. The other patrons are doing the same, and there's a general sense of panic and chaos in the air. Fox reaches down and helps you stand.

"Fox," you breathe, and your voice is trembling.

"It's okay," he assures you, though he's not sure it's true. "I’m gonna get you somewhere safe."

“My apartment is near here," you offer. "If we can make it there."

"We'll make it," Fox promises. "Stay close to me."

"I will," you murmur, and he turns and strides towards the exit, keeping one hand wrapped around yours. The crowd outside has thinned, and the streets are filled with debris and broken glass. You look up at the sky, your eyes widening.

"Fox," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

The clouds are glowing, streaks of red and orange flashing across them. There are fires burning throughout the city, the flames leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and the smoke billows into the air, blanketing the sky. Sirens blare in the distance, and the air is filled with screams and shouts and alarms. It's a scene from his nightmares, a vision of his worst fears realized, and the reality is far worse than he'd ever imagined.

“Come on," Fox orders, pulling you along. "Stay with me."

"Okay," you murmur. Your voice shakes, and he tightens his grip on you, not wanting to lose you. You're his responsibility now, his to protect, and he can't afford to make any mistakes.

The two of you run through the streets, weaving between the groups of people hurrying past. There are civilians everywhere, their eyes wide with fear, their faces smeared with ash and blood. You're moving as fast as you can, but the crowds are thick, and the debris on the ground makes it difficult to navigate.

A group of people runs past, knocking into the two of you, and Fox stumbles, his grip on you slipping.

"Watch it!" he yells, steadying himself. You grab his arm, your hands digging into his armor, and he pulls you close, trying to shield you from the chaos. You're pressed against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "I've got you," he breathes. "I've got you."

The next few minutes pass in a blur. Fox does his best to guide you through the crowds, his focus narrowing to the path ahead. His only concern is keeping you safe, and his body reacts without him even thinking. He doesn't hesitate as he guides you down dark alleys, his eyes constantly searching for danger.

Finally, the two of you reach your apartment building. It's quieter here, the streets deserted, and the sight of your building, standing tall and undamaged, is a relief. He lets out a breath and turns to face you.

"This is it," you manage. You're shaking, your face pale, and he cups your cheek, tilting your head up.

"Hey.” He strokes his thumb over your skin, and the look on your face breaks his heart. "It's gonna be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, and he reaches up and pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. You let out a shaky breath, your hands clutching his shoulders, and the intimacy of the gesture sends a rush of affection through him. "I promise."

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Of course," he replies. The two of you stand there for a moment, your breaths mingling, and then Fox pulls back. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin, and you let out a shaky sigh. "Get inside."

"Okay," you murmur, nodding. "Be careful."

"I will," he promises. He gives you a small smile, and then replaces his helmet, and you blink, as if waking from a dream.

"Stay inside," he orders, his tone stern. "Lock the doors, and don't open them for anyone but me.”

"Alright."

"Comm me if you need anything," he adds, and the concern in his voice is clear, even through his vocoder. "I'll come back to check on you when I can."

"I'll be waiting," you whisper, and the promise in your voice makes his heart race.

He gives you one last look, his eyes roaming over your face, memorizing every detail. Then, before he can do something stupid, like take his bucket off again and try to kiss you, he turns and walks away.

"Be safe, Fox."

"You too."

And with that, you disappear through the doors, and Fox heads back into the chaos, his heart in his throat.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive_shark

@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently

#fox x reader #commander fox x reader #commander fox #the clone wars #marshal commander fox #tcw fox #clone commander fox #clone x reader #roy writes #i really can't resist tying these fics to the canon plot #just for my own enjoyment

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into-the-grey · 1 month ago

Text

~Tightrope~

Noah x F!Reader Fic

Summary: I got sick, and he left me here. Am I really too broken to be loved?

W.C: 4.7k

Taglist: @anything-more-than-human @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc

Warnings: sadness, angst, disability, medical topics, possibly incorrect medical info, depiction of cardiac emergency, talk of overdose.

PLEASE UNDERSTAND, I'm not glorifying disability. I'm venting. The disability depicted in the story is my own, and it pisses me off to no end some days, so I wanted to write a lil about it and make something cathartic.

Masterlist

I'd watched him countless times on that stage. I'd watched him psych himself up, getting ready to give the performance of his life every single time. I couldn't help it, he was magnetic. Something about the mysterious person he became when he stepped out into the eyes of the people, it's like he became this untouchable being, the king in his castle.

I'd watched him despair when he couldn't do it. Whether he'd blown his voice out, or he burned himself out trying to do everything all at once. His house of cards had come tumbling more than once, but never enough to bring everything to an end. Every time, I watched him build it back up, meticulous in his method.

I watched him learn, grow, and evolve. And every step he took, I took with him. I wanted to be there, supporting him like a good friend does.

And then I got sick. And then I fell apart.

I didn't get cancer, or some kind of terminal disease, it wasn't that dramatic. It was simple, yet so frustratingly limiting. My body wouldn't agree with me, forcing me to stand still when I wanted to run with him on his ever upward trajectory. All because of one small malfunction in my hardware.

My heart. Literally. A tiny piece of scar tissue, likely caused by a dumb choice I'd made when I was younger involving some Lexapro and an ex-boyfriend's snide comment, had begun to generate its own electric current. Because, in case you didn't know, that's how your heart works if you dumb it down. Little electric currents run across it and stimulate the different chambers, starting at the top and ending at the bottom. Humans create our own electricity, and that's what keeps us alive. Neat, huh?

When it works the way it should, sure.

But mine didn't anymore. This stupid piece of scar tissue was generating its own current, and it made my heart beat out of sync. It was scary as hell when we first found it. I couldn't breathe, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I tried so hard to play it off as anxiety, I didn't want anything to be wrong with me. But Noah...

He called the ambulance; he held my hand through the scans and the blood tests and the ECGs. He stayed with me in that hospital for four days while the doctors decided how bad it was and what to do with me. He held my hand when they told me the prognosis. He celebrated with me when they told me I wasn't in immediate danger, and he kept me calm when they told me the risks.

Yeah. Apparently, it's not meant to be dangerous, and it's an easy fix. Mine didn't want to be easy. Mine was infuriating, because while it was only a minor problem and an easy fix, the wait for the surgery was never ending. I had to live with it, and the medication, and the anxiety, every single day. I hated every moment of it.

Feeling defective isn't easy. You feel like everyone is looking at you like you're about to break. It makes you think you might, that you're this fragile thing, one breath might knock you down. And the side effects of your body not working...

You lose muscle tone, you gain weight because you can't go to the gym anymore, your skin gets aggravated from lying on pillows all the time...

You spiral, because the world goes on without you while you're waiting to be fixed. You want to run with them, but you can't. You want to be a part of it, but any odd feeling in your chest scares you. You spend so much time in hospital because doctors always say "It's probably nothing, but just to be sure..."

And then when you see the people you care about, you're not you anymore. You're different. You feel ugly, you feel like a freak. Like this broken doll, cast aside and waiting until someone comes along with a needle and thread to fix you.

Noah had to keep living though. He went on tour, he ruled his kingdom, and when he came home from his tour, I swear he looked at me with pity. It broke me. I was his friend, and suddenly it was like he didn't know how to talk to me anymore. It was like he was worried that almost every topic would upset me, or trigger me, and nothing I said could change it.

If I could have gotten drunk over it, I would have. Stupid fucking medications.

We didn't speak for a while. I felt so alone. Sometimes I caught the three dots in our conversations. He'd type something, think better of it, and delete it. It hurt more every time.

He was the one person who I never thought would see me as something broken. I wondered if maybe the weight I'd gained had embarrassed him, even though it wasn't much. I wondered if maybe I just wasn't the person he wanted to be seen with anymore.

I just wasn't enough, I guess. Maybe I never had been.

Swallowing the crush I'd had on him when we were teens was hard enough, but this? I couldn't swallow losing him like this. Not over something so fucking stupid.

So, I texted him, asking if he was busy. And thus, the ball rolled.

Hey, are you doing anything? - Y/N

Not at the moment, what's up? - Noah

I was hoping I could talk to you about something. Can I call? - Y/N

Of course, is everything okay? - Noah

Not really... - Y/N

Should I come over? - Noah

Your call, I'm fine either way - Y/N

I'm on my way, be there in 15 - Noah

A part of me rejoiced, seeing that he could still read me. 'Your call' was once a distress signal for the two of us. A sign that we were sinking alone, and we needed a friend. He'd been the one to start it, and it stuck.

So, he did, I waited in my apartment for Noah's truck to pull up in the visitor's spot outside. While I waited, I ran through everything I wanted to say to him. I tried to figure out how to say it to him. Part of me wanted to beg him just to see me how I once was, to look at me without the pity in his eyes. Another part of me was tempted to tell him that if he couldn't, he could go fuck himself.

I couldn't do that though. I'd miss him too much.

I wrapped myself in my knitted blanket, curled up on the couch with a pillow in my lap. The Great British Bake Off played on my TV, filling the room with a warm hum of sound. To an outsider, the room full of plush pillows and soft blankets seemed welcoming. The pictures on the walls were cozy, and the black suede couch begged to be reclined on in luxury.

To me, it was home. In the same vein, it was hell.

This apartment had become my prison. I had nowhere to go anymore, nothing to do. Normally when I wasn't at work I would bounce back and forth between the studio and Noah's house, or I'd be out on adventures with him and the band. Since getting sick, I'd been stuck here. I worked from home because my boss was too afraid something might happen to me in the office. He framed it as a generous offer, trying to be kind and thoughtful, but I knew he just didn't want to deal with the insurance paperwork if something did happen.

I had spent months in this solitude. I had nothing to break up the monotony of my days. I thought being disabled was bad enough, the depression that came with the isolation only made things unbearably worse. All I saw every day were the same four walls, the same programs, the same rooms. I was getting cabin fever and there was nothing I could do about it. The most I ever left home for was groceries and doctor’s appointments. Not exactly a thrilling existence.

So, when I saw the headlights illuminate my curtains, a part of me lit up. It was sick how excited I got at the idea of a visitor. I was like a puppy hearing their owner come to the door, practically unable to hide the vibrating eagerness in my chest.

Noah's truck rolled smoothly through the parking lot and into the visitor parking on the other side of my living room wall. The joys of ground floor living, I saw everything that happened in the complex.

The truck door slammed, and his footsteps trudged along the stamped concrete, making his way to the buzzer at the security door. The steps seemed slow, almost unwilling to be there. For a moment I wondered if I should tell him to go home, that it was nothing and he didn't need to worry about it.

Instead, I stood up and shuffled my way over to the intercom by my front door. The panel lit up with a video feed as the bell chimed. I saw Noah standing by the door, his feet shuffling awkwardly in his sneakers while he kept his hands jammed in the pocket of his hoodie. His head hung, staring at the concrete while he waited for me to let him in.

I could have lifted the receiver and said something. A long time ago, I would have made a joke, I might have said something vaguely pervy like "ooh, you look better when you're awake," and he would have laughed. Instead, I silently pushed the button to unlock the door. He reached for the handle, yanking it open. I heard the click in the hallway as the video feed shut off, and I opened the front door to my side.

His oversized form dawdled toward me, his head still down and watching his shoes. Everything about his stance screamed that he wanted to turn around and go home. It had my stomach sinking as he grew closer.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were ringed with purple bags. He looked exhausted. He looked at me with a tired smile, nodding at me.

'Hey,' he said quietly.

'Hey,' I said, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders and smiling weakly. I stepped to the side, letting him step into the apartment. He slunk past me and headed straight to the couch, plopping down and patting the cushion, inviting me to sit beside him.

The front door swung closed, and I twisted the lock before joining him on the couch. Turning the TV off, I shifted to face him, choosing to rip the Band-Aid off. Seeing his hollow eyes made it harder, but I was determined.

I swallowed, balling my hands into fists beneath the blanket and hanging my head.

'You've been avoiding me,' I said flatly.

Noah froze, leaning back and shifting his position. He turned, one leg bent on the couch and the other foot on the floor while his hands hung in his hoodie pocket. I watched him open and close his mouth a few times, clearly caught off guard by my words.

'I...' he stammered out, unable to finish his sentence. He was going to say he hadn't been, but he couldn't lie to me like that. He'd never been able to.

'I wish I could say it's okay, but I can't help wondering why,' I said, chewing on my lip as I looked at him. It was out in the open now, and I felt the weight in my stomach. My heart pumped hard in my chest, the sensation making me nervous as I monitored the beats.

'I didn't mean to,' he said quietly. 'We were busy, and things slipped, and I didn't know how to come back.'

I shook my head. 'Noah, I know you. Distance has never been an issue for us, and it's not like I'm across the country this time. I'm right here, and you haven't come to see me. You won't even text me back. It's like you don't want to be around me-'

'I do, I swear,' he cut me off, his hands tensing in his pocket. 'I just...'

'You just what?' I probed, trying to keep my voice steady. My throat tightened, and my voice threatened to crack. 'You don't want to be seen with me anymore? I gained weight and I got boring-'

'No!' he said, shaking his head and freeing his hands from his pockets. 'God no! I don't care about any of that, you know I don't! Why would you ever think that?'

'Because I feel like that?' I shot back. 'I feel like this damaged thing, and no one knows what to do with me. You backed off when I got diagnosed. It makes sense that this stupid thing is the reason. So, what, you're scared I'm gonna drop dead? You think I'm broken? You think it's too much to handle? To gross to look at?'

The words spewed fast, and Noah's face fell as I spoke. He watched as my breath came quick and I stumbled over my tongue. He reached for my hands, fishing for them in the blanket and taking them in his, holding them tightly.

'I just feel like this burden that no one wants to bear. People treat me like I'm made of glass, and they're too scared to handle me. Or like I'm not me anymore. It's fucking lonely, Noah. You were meant to be my best friend, and you fucking disappeared on me. Tour is one thing, but no calls? No texts? It's like you think I died.'

Noah shook his head, shuffling closer.

'I didn't mean to; I swear to you-'

'So why?' I coughed. All too aware of my own body, my chest ached, and my stomach turned. The defective organ screamed at me, and my brain begged for calm. The odd palpitation in my chest rang alarm bells in my mind, scaring me worse. Had I worked myself up into another hospital visit? That was the last thing I wanted. I needed answers, not more pity.

'Because I was scared. I still am. But not for the reasons you think,' Noah finally admitted, hanging his head in shame. His thumbs ran over my knuckles, my skin pale compared to his inky works of art. His hair hung like a thin curtain in front of his eyes, hiding his expression from me.

'Why, Noah?' I begged. 'Because if this is forever, I need to know. I need to be able to stop hoping we'll go back to how it was.'

'It's not forever,' he told me, his voice low. 'It wasn't even meant to be this long. I got scared because when I saw you that way, I didn't know what to do. For the first time ever, it was something I couldn't handle.'

'There's been a lot of things you can't handle,' I said, squeezing his fingers in mine. 'I don't expect you to be able to handle everything.'

He nodded, lifting his head and shaking his hair from his eyes. 'I know, but I couldn't fix this. I can't fix this. That scares the hell out of me. The idea that at any moment, you could go blue again and your heart might fuck up in a way that I don't understand... I was so sure I was about to lose you, Y/N...'

'So, you pushed me away instead?'

He nodded again; his lips tight as his eyes glassed over. 'I know, it doesn't make sense.'

'It does, but it still hurt. Out of sight, out of mind, right?'

'I guess,' he said. His shoulders slumped. 'God, I'm such an asshole. I made this all about me, and you're the one in danger.'

I rolled my eyes. 'That's the thing, Noah. I'm really not. Sure, I have to be a little more careful and I can't have caffeine anymore, but I'm still me. I'm not dying, I'm not going anywhere, I'm just waiting until they can fix me so I can do the things I used to do.'

'I wish I could get that through my head,' he sighed. 'I wish I could stop seeing it. That night...'

That night. The night it all went wrong.

I didn't think anything of it. I'd been messing around with the guys, throwing things and playing keep-away with Noah's phone. We'd been joking about some girl he'd been texting, making kissy faces at him and pretending to text her back.

Noah tackled me onto a beanbag, taking me down with a hard thump as the beanbag slid across the floorboards and up against the wall.

His arms were around me, grappling for his phone. I let him have it, lying breathless and curled up against him. We laid together, everyone laughing and joking as Noah pretended to be mad at us.

He got his breath back quickly, but mine didn't come. It wasn't until five minutes later that we realised I was still panting.

'Are you okay?' Noah asked jokingly, rolling to his back and pulling me into his lap. He leaned to look up at my face, his hand on my back.

'I think so, I just don't have super strong singer's lungs like you,' I joked. Looking back at him, that was when I saw the nerves. The panic in his eyes would haunt me forever.

His hand flattened on my back, the guys freezing as they looked on.

'What's going on?' Ruffilo asked, furrowing his brow.

'Noah...' I said slowly, getting nervous. The pounding in my chest felt heavier now, like I was being punched from inside my chest, but its rhythm was off. It felt like fluttering, and the longer I sat up, the worse it felt.

'She's going pale dude, get her on the floor,' Ruffilo blurted.

Noah moved fast, lifting me from his lap and laying me down on the floorboards. He knelt by my side, taking my hand and holding it tight. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open while he silently pressed his hand to my chest.

'Something isn't right,' he said, fishing his phone from his pocket and lifting it to his ear.

'Noah, what are you doing?' I coughed, my chest heaving.

'Just try to stay calm, okay?' he said, his body language completely going against his words. 'Something's wrong, I'm calling an ambulance.'

I didn't argue with him. I didn't dare. If Noah said something was wrong, then something was clearly wrong.

The phone didn't ring for long, and he asked for an ambulance with a hitch in his voice. He rattled off my name, my age, and the address to the dispatcher, all the while holding my hand for dear life.

'She's breathing really heavily,' he told them, ‘And her heartbeat feels wrong. I had my hand on her back, and it felt like it was skipping.'

I laid still, a chill seeping through my body at his words. Something was wrong, and it was with my heart. The organ that's meant to keep you alive. The most important part of a human body, and mine was malfunctioning.

I barely noticed my breathing speed up, I felt like I was going to be sick. The cold feeling prickled my skin, a cold sweat breaking out on my face while I screwed my eyes up. My ears began to ring, Noah's voice suddenly sounding far away.

The urge to throw myself into a sitting position was almost impossible to ignore, but I knew Noah would only pin me down. He wasn't about to let me go anywhere.

'Noah,' I whimpered, trying to hold onto whatever composure I had left. My grip on his hand was iron clad, holding it for dear life.

'Y/N?' he called to me. Footsteps began to rush around the room, but they sounded like they were underwater.

My vision darkened, and I strained to look at Noah. It hurt to look, but I was determined to keep my eyes on him.

'I can't...' I tried to say, but my whole body had started to shut down on me.

'Y/N,' Noah called again, squeezing my fingers tightly, 'come on, Y/N, stay awake, stay with me.'

I wanted to. I wanted so badly to stay with him. But my body had other ideas.

I felt my fingers loosen in his, the strength fading. I felt him grip tighter. I heard his panicked cries as they distorted into static. I saw him scream. I saw the world close in around his wide eyes. I felt the heavy footsteps rattling the floorboards beneath me.

And then, nothing.

That night.

'That night was my anxiety getting the better of me, Noah,' I said softly, the familiar flush of shame in my cheeks. I had thought about it a lot too. I hated the idea that Noah saw me like that. I hated the idea that he had to watch my brain shut me down because I was too scared. It was mortifying.

'It was more than that, Y/N,' he argued. 'I was sure you were gone. I thought that I'd...' he stopped himself. I knew the look. His eyes flitted between his hands and the carpet, pursing his lips tightly. Whatever he was going to say, he'd never said it out loud before.

My eyes stung. Seeing him like this, it broke me. He'd been holding on to something, dealing with all of this alone. Just like me. 'Talk to me, Noah, please,' I begged.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath, his teeth sinking into his lower lip while he debated if he should admit it.

'I thought I'd killed you. I thought maybe we'd been roughhousing too hard, and that maybe tackling you was what caused all of this,' he finally said. 'I haven't been avoiding you, I've been avoiding the guilt, because every time I look at you, I see you on the floor again. I see you barely breathing, and it feels like it was my fucking fault-'

I threw myself at him, pulling him close in a crushing hug. My blanket fell from my shoulders as his arms wrapped around me, hesitant to squeeze back.

'Noah, for fucks sake, hug me, I won't break,' I demanded, feeling the way he trembled. As if waiting for permission, his arms tightened, holding me in a way I hadn't realised I'd missed so much.

'I'm so fucking sorry,' he said, burying his face in my hair. 'I'm so sorry.'

'This isn't your fault, Noah, you know that,' I soothed, inching closer to him. 'We know why this happened, and I did it to myself, remember? I was an idiot.'

'I know, but I fucking left you when you needed someone. You needed me and I wasn't here, just like last time-'

'You are not blaming yourself for that, are you?' I asked, pulling back and looking at his face. His bloodshot eyes met mine, his lips pursed shut in a tight pout. 'Noah,' I said, 'do you really blame yourself for me being a fucking idiot?'

'I didn't answer the phone,' he said. 'If I had, maybe you wouldn't have done it.'

'Fuck, Noah, no,' I shook my head, my whole body sinking. 'It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. I overdosed because of Josh. He's the one to blame here, not you. He played me like a damn violin, and I walked straight into it. Thats why this happened. I did the damage, and it came back to bite me.'

'But Josh wouldn't have even been a problem if I'd said something,' he said weakly.

'Are you gonna have a rebuttal for everything?' I asked, a sad smile on my face as I reached up, brushing away a tear that fell down his cheek. 'I'll debunk it all, man. Come on, what would you have said?'

Noah smirked at me. I was glad to see my pathetic attempt at bravado could ease his pain a little. It made my heart settle somewhat. His eyes seemed to sparkle, and I finally saw the familiar face of my best friend looking back at me instead of a gloomy stranger.

I chuckled pathetically, tears running down my own face. 'Come on, what would you have said?' I repeated, stressing the words. 'That he was a jerk? That I could do better?' I goaded, 'or maybe that he was only using me to get to you, you big headed egomaniac-'

'I would have told you that I loved you.'

It was my turn to freeze. His face turned to stone, betraying no emotion. He watched as I processed what he had said, his gaze lowering to my chest as if he could see my heart through the skin.

My blanket pooled around my hips, and I felt exposed without it around my shoulders. Despite the shiver that ran through me, I didn't move to cover myself.

'You could have said that,' I said timidly, 'but would you have meant it? Or would you only have said it because you knew I had a crush on you? like using my feelings against me to protect me?'

Noah moved slowly, his hand running up my spine and letting my reactions guide him. His face drew nearer to mine, and another cool chill ran through me. This time, it was pleasant. My breath stuttered as he closed in on me.

'I can't lie to you about something like that, remember?'

'So why didn't you say anything?'

'Because I didn't think you saw me that way. You looked at everyone but me.'

A nervous gasp hit my throat as his eyes bored into mine. I had dreamed of this for years, swallowing every feeling and living in shame for so long.

'And you looked at everyone but me.'

'Not true,' he contested. 'When you weren't looking at me, I was always looking at you. You were all I saw. You've always been what I want. That's why it broke me to think I was losing you; to think I'd done this to you. I thought you deserved better.'

My breath caught in my throat, my fingers tracing down his cheek and resting on his neck. My heart thundered in my chest, and for once I was okay with it.

'And what do you think now?' I breathed.

'I think that I want to be the man you deserve,' his low voice whispered, our faces so close I could almost taste him.

'You always have been.'

I leaned closer, gently pulling him closer to me. His lips met mine tenderly, barely touching.

'Don't be scared,' I breathed, 'I won't break.'

He huffed a soft laugh. 'You're sure?'

I nodded, thumbing over his jaw. He grinned, kissing me properly. His lips pressed against mine and his hand nestled into the nape of my neck, holding me to him in desperation. I smiled into the kiss, my body alight with sensation as he ran his fingers into my hair.

I twisted my fingers into his hoodie, needing to feel him against me. He gladly took the hint, propping himself onto his knees and turning to lay me down on the couch. Our lips only parted long enough for him to find his place over me and settle me against the cushions.

His body laid over mine, the pressure welcome against my lonely skin. His fingers glided over me, running from my hips to my jaw while I tried to commit his lips to memory.

'Noah,' I breathed between kisses.

'Sorry,' Noah stopped, hovering just over my face and eyeing me with concern. 'Too much?'

'God no,' I shook my head with a giggle, 'I'm okay, but I wanted to tell you something.'

'Oh?'

'I missed you.'

He smirked at me, pecking my lips again. 'I missed you too.'

'I'm glad you came over tonight.'

'So am I.'

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #badomenscult #noah bad omens #noah x reader #noahsebastian

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samcarpentersgirlfriend · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write some fluffy amber headcannons

|| AMBER FREEMAN X READER HEADCANONS 𖤐₊˚.

warnings: brief mentions of possessiveness, reader wears makeup, kissing, drinking

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

- loves horror movies, obviously. her perfect idea of a date night is watching one of her favourites cuddled up with you on the couch

- gets super excited and will info dump facts or details regarding them whilst she lays with her head in your lap as you play with her hair - you can’t help but love how passionate she gets

- speaking of movies, her comfort movie is something completely cheesy, like high school musical or some bad mid 2000s rom com. she tries to play it off and calls it stupid, but you don’t miss the way her eyes brighten at every joke and the way she almost subconsciously mouths the words as they’re said on screen

- also likes to draw. sometimes you’ll glance over to her and she’ll be sketching a little book, her features etched with concentration as she tries to get the little details right

- she’s definitely drawn you a fair few times, although you had to peek when she wasn’t looking because she wouldn’t outright show you

- she’s one of those people that seems to be good at everything - it’s infuriating and incredibly attractive all at once

- amber feels as if she has to protect you, so if anybody tries to flirt with you and makes you uncomfortable, she’ll come up and be all over you and tell them - not so nicely - that you were very much taken, thanks

- on a related note, she’s definitely into pda, whether it’s handholding, kissing, or anything else. you’re her partner, and the more people then know that, the better

- definitely pushed you against a wall before and kissed you

- if the two of you are out and you’re drinking, amber makes sure to stay purposefully sober enough so that she can make sure that you’re okay and not too bad. if you do anything stupid whilst drunk she’ll tease the hell out of you, but nobody else is allowed to make you feel even remotely bad about your actions

- tells you that she loves you very often. it doesn’t matter if you’re walking down a crowded street or if it’s just the two of you together, she needs you to know how much you mean to her

- she loves doing your makeup, and you love feeling pampered and seeing her happy - it’s a total win - win situation <3

- strangely great at comforting you when you’re sad. she has your favourite food on standby, your favourite tv show cued up and is ready to listen as you vent. she knows when you need space though, and won’t overstay if she can tell that you need to be on your own

- is very good at reading people, especially you. she can look at you once and practically know what you’re thinking about - it’s honestly kind of scary and hot??

- amber likes to feel like she’s in charge. if cuddling, she likes to be the big spoon, but even apart from that, it’s the little things like you laying on her chest or even her initiating kisses with you. it’s not only with you though, you realise that even with her friends, she seems to gravitate to a leader role - it’s like she can’t help herself

- compliments you constantly. you’re trying on a new outfit? “look at you, you’re breathtaking, baby. I’m so lucky to have you.” you get a new job? “yes, I’m so proud of you! I knew you’d do it - you’re so fucking amazing.”

- never forgets anything. from your favourite artist or the name of the pet you had as a kid, amber remembers it all. she’s so captivated when you speak, so why wouldn’t she?

- drinks so much coffee. it started as a way to help keep her awake so she could cram, but now she practically starts shaking if she hadn’t had at least two cups by 10am. you feel as if you should stage an intervention.

- likes pet names - baby + princess (if you’re fem) are her faves. amber is one of those people that if they call you by your full first name, you know that you’re in trouble - with amber, it’s definitely either a pet name or a nickname

- a morning person?? idk I can see her as both but I think she would just prefer the morning - waking up earlier helps her feel more productive and she can get things done- by the time you wake up, she’s already making breakfast for the two of you and humming along to the radio

- if you come home hurt somehow, amber goes into full nurse mode. she’ll help patch you up and sit with you as she ask what happened and if she finds out somebody hurt you, you’re the one that has to calm her down

- the two of you just work and balance each other out

- after you’ve been together for a while, amber starts planning your future for the two of you. she wants to move in together when your ready, and is already planning on asking you how you feel about a pet dog

- because she loves animals - you can’t help but find it adorable how she melts around them.

- if you’re with her when she’s ghostface, she genuinely tries her hardest to keep you out of it. she still wants to stick to the plan, but there’s no reason to get you involved and for you to get hurt, and she’s determined to get away with it and live happily ever after with you - you’ll watch the new and improved stab movie together

#fanfic #scream x reader #scream x you #scream #scream 5 #scream headcanons #scream imagine #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman x you #imagines #mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #amber freeman imagine #fluff

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httpwintersoldier · 1 year ago

Text

『you are him. || winter soldier x reader』

pairing: winter soldier x f!reader words: lenghty summary: you get tangled up in paralel affairs as the Winter Soldier makes you part of his mission.

Unbeknownst to you, the Winter Soldier watched you from afar. Intently.

How would you know? Going unnoticed was what the soldier was best at.

At first it was just a mission. The Winter Soldier was to "eliminate" your husband, whom was working in uncovering the HYDRA officials hiding in the government. He was a cockroach that HYDRA wanted to eliminate before it became a problem, and as per usual, they used the Winter Soldier to do so.

He was tasked with a recognition mission first. The Soldier was to take note of what your husband had come to find out, what leaks and what careless acts lead to certain people being uncovered. And then. after acquiring the knowledge, he was to kill the man.

However, there was a hiccup in the plans: you.

The Winter Soldier first saw you when he had entered your home to look for your husband's work files and you came back to the house because you had forgotten your phone, and he knew, then and there, that he wanted you. No, he yearned for you.

Ever since then the Soldier would make sure to delay the mission as much as possible so he could admire you.

Every time your husband looked at you, touched you, kissed you... it enraged him. But what infuriated him the most was how he'd often ignore as creature as beautiful as you, how he would exchange you, for his work. The work that would soon lead to his demise, no less. It made him glad the man would be gone, via his own hands.

The problem lied in the fact that, for the first time, the Soldier didn't know how to act, how to proceed in the face of an objective set by himself.

That was, until a perfect situation opened the doors for the Soldier to swoop in.

"You're leaving?" Your voice sounded hopeless, as you stared at your husband's back when he began putting on a coat.

"Yes! I just got the most amazing tip about someone I've been tailing." Your husband's voice was excited, seemingly missing your sadness and anguish, something that had been common the past few months.

Your husband went on and on about his job, and how this particular trip might be what "seals the deal" as he stuffed clothes and documents in a trolley, but all that was background noise as you tried your best to hold back the tears, the realization hitting that your marriage was falling apart, that it was falling behind in your husband's priority list.

One week. A one week trip, he told you, among other useless information about the trip. And one week apart wasn't the end of the world, it wasn't a long time, really. The problem relied in the fact that your marriage anniversary was in two days. And the worst of all was that your husband hadn't even apologised for leaving near such a special date, because he didn't remember it.

He didn't remember anything that wasn't related to work. It seemed like he barely remembered you at times...

The man that you once called your best friend and soulmate, left, with nothing but a quick kiss and a chime of "see you in a week".

You headed towards your (not so often) shared bedroom with heavy steps and let yourself fall on the bed. You needed to give yourself some time to break down and cry, to let out all the sadness, anger, anguish and hate.

After a solid hour of sobbing and finishing off the tissues on your nightstand, you decided that you needed to recompose and get your mind off of the situation.

You were in your kitchen attempting to cook up something that would make you feel a little better and less tempting when a shiver ran down your spine.

You felt as if someone had entered the room, as if someone was watching. But you knew that was impossible, your husband was gone and so you were alone in the house. Or so you thought.

When you turned around to look for something in your pantry, when you were met with a figure.

A tall man, wide and scary looking, staring directly at you.

Your only reaction was to gasp and back up against the counter, which your held onto for dear life.

With widened eyes and a heaving chest, you analized the man. Thick combat boots, tight black pants, a leather top, a metal arm... a metal arm? You recognized that. You knew who that was. Fuck, you were tired of hearing about him.

The Winter Soldier. Your husband's favourite HYDRA "myth". He'd go on and on about his story, and how people thought he wasn't real, but he believed the Soldier wasn't just a story.

And now he stood in front of you.

Your arm reached out slowly, your index finger pointing in his direction as it shook slightly.

"You're... You're him. The Winter Soldier. You are the Winter Soldier."

The Soldier was a little surprised you knew who he was, and that you recognised him with such ease.

But the man didn't reply, he simply stepped closer, until his body was pressed against yours and he was looking down at you.

You were frozen in fear. Obviously you didn't know what to do in the presence of a hitman, a mass murderer. If he was there to kill you, you were already dead.

He reached behind his head and undid his classic mask and glasses, letting them fall to the ground.

Wow.

The man was... beautiful. His face was well sculpted, and his jaw-lenght dark hair brought out and complimented his icy blue eyes, and he expression on his face was authoritarian - it intimidated you... In a good way.

"You're here to kill me." You said, accidentally voicing your thoughts.

What other reason could there be for the man to be in your house, standing in front of you, showing his face.

"I'm here because I want you."

His voice was low and assertive, and if he could be any scarier or any more intimidating, that would be the reason.

You gulped, as you tried to process the sentece.

"You want me... to join you? You want to take me to HYDRA?"

The Soldier almost chuckled at your innocence, and the way that you could possibly think that he showed up in the middle of the night and trapped your (barely covered) figure with his body because he wanted a recruit.

The man's fingertips made their way up your naked thighs, slowly riding up the flimsy t-shirt that covered you.

"No, Y/N. I want you." He whispered in your ear, emphasizing his intentions by hooking one finger in the waistband of your panties and letting it snap against your skin.

You couldn't think of a moment you had been more aroused, other than that very second.

You had married your husband out of love. Out of the purest form of love. So pure that you overlooked the inexistant sexual tension. There had never been a moment where you felt like you needed your husband, a moment when your skin burned under his touch, a moment where you wanted to beg for him. He lacked the dominant, possessive side that you sometimes wished he had.

And all that he lacked, all that you wish your husband was, was standing right in front of you, waiting for your confirmation.

Arousal spread between your legs and you couldn't help but press your thighs together, hoping of the elast bit of friction.

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to let the Soldier take you and do with you whatever he pleased, but the constant flashing image of your husband in your head stopped you from going ahead.

"I understand. I will come back, you know which day it will be." The Soldier paused, inching his lips closer to your ear "And when I do come back, I will fuck you dumb. I will fuck you so good you'll forget all about your husband, and all you'll be able to think about is my cock."

And with that, he vanished. The Soldier was right in front of you, but still, he managed to vanish into thin air, and you had no idea how.

"You know which day it will be". And know you did. Your anniversary. He would target you on the day you were loneliest and saddest, and yet he was cocky to the point of giving you a heads up. He assumed you'd stay home and wait for him. And you would be lying if you said you hated his confidance and arrogance, it just suited him.

That night when you went to bed, you kept thinking of the man, of the way he made you feel, and, above all, the way he touched you. You couldn't help the tingling finger in your body as you remembered his touch, and so your fingers sneaked inside of your underwear. You rubbed circles in your clit, fingering yourself not longer after.

Even if he wasn't physically in the room, he was still the one that made you cum, as it was the image of his face, his fingers and his cock that made you climax before you drifted off to sleep.

The next few days you thought of him too, and although you couldn't see him, you were sure you could feel his presence.

One thing the Winter Soldier managed to do was revive the excitement you had for the day of your wedding anniversary. You now wanted the day to come, but there was a dilemma burning in your head: should you do this, or remain faithful to a relationship you were in on your own?

Yes, your husband ha dbeen completely neglecting you for the longest time, and he constantly ignored your needs and pleads, but could you really do this to him?

Yes. Yes you could. And all doubts ceased to exist when you went into your bedroom and the Winter Soldier was sitting on the arm chair by the corner of the room, awaiting you.

Your husband had been selfish for the longest time and would continue to be, and now it was your turn.

"Fuck!" You said loudly, placing a hand over your heart as you spotted him.

The Soldier smirked and stood up. His strides toward you were long, as if he was impatient to touch you.

"Already screaming for me?" He asked, cockily, as he placed one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek.

The man slightly tilted your head up, and licked his lips.

"Have you thought about my proposal?" The man asked, bringing you closer to him.

"It didn't sound like a proposal." You replied, your eyes glued to his lips.

Upon hearing the snarky ironic reply, the man knew he had the green flag to go.

"You're right, it wasn't."

Right after those words came out of his mouth, his lips attached to yours, kissing you as if the world was about to end. Both his large hands found their way to your ass and squeezed it, pulling your crotch towards his in the process.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and didn't hesitate in moaning into the kiss.

You could feel his semi-hard cock pressing against your hip, and teased him by rolling your body against his. The Soldier replied with a low grunt and delivered a slap to your ass.

He guided your body towards the bed and had you lay down.

You didn't know his name, however you seriously doubt he'd tell you.

The man stripped you from your nightgown with ease, grinning when he found you had worn no panties.

"Ready for me, were we?" He asked with a smirk, fully knowing he was right.

You didn't get to respond, as he parted your folds with his fingers and you immediately gasped. The fact that you hadn't felt someone else's touch in a long time was evident.

The Soldier experimented entering you with one finger, slowly pumping it in and out, before adding a second one. He could see from the look in your face and the way you gripped the sheets that you'd be cumming very quickly, so he knelt down and began sucking on your clit, as he added a third finger, stretching you out just enough to get you ready for what was to come.

One of your hands remained gripping the sheets, but the other found its way to his hair.

"Oh my- fuck I'm gonna cum." You warned him, and so he slightly quickened the pace, until a particularly loud scream and your arching back told him you had reached your climax.

The Soldier stepped back and undressed, giving you time to come down from your high. You watched in awe, as he revelaed a body that seemed to have been sculpted by Michael Angelo himself.

He then climbed on top of you, pressing desperate, sloppy kisses all over your naked body, ending with a long kiss to your lips.

The Soldier's shaft rubbed against your folds, teasing to enter you at any time.

"Please... Please fuck me." You begged, desperately wanting him to keep the promise he had made days ago.

"Anything for you doll." He said and then paused as he gripped your waist and aligned his tip with your entrance "You ready to be fucked dumb out of your pretty little mind?"

His tone was cocky and condescending, and fuck did you love it. It was the best switch-up from the goody-two-shoes attitude you were used to.

"Yes, please!"

Those words were the key for the Winter Soldier to bottom out inside of you, and you swore you saw stars. Your back arched, and you let our a loud moan, one that you didn't know you were capable of, it sounded pornographical.

His hips snapped against yours, and your whimpers and pleads for more mixed with his groans.

The Soldier was filled with ecstasy, finally being able to fuck you, to be inside of you, after yearning for it for so long. He bent down to kiss you as he fucked you, and the way your nails attacked his back almost made him cum in you.

He loved the way it felt, he loved how you were marking him, and so he did the same. His lips sucked and bit on your neck, making sure that the evidence would be there the next day.

"Shit doll, you feel so good and tight around me..."

You brought his lips to yours, brushing away the hairs stuck to his forehead due to the sweat.

The Soldier would often slap your thigh, bringing you closer and closer to your high again.

"Fuck princess, I'm gonna cum."

"D-do it- I'm so close." You pleaded, breathlessly.

The man picked up the pace in which he fucked you, and not long after he bottomed out inside of you and came, as did you. He kept a grip on your thighs (and you were sure it'd leave a mark), and you held onto his shoulders.

He placed a kiss on your cheek, and rolled off of you. You both laid there for a second, regaining your breath. You closed your eyes for a second and when you looked to your side to ask him if he would stay, he was gone.

And so you were left wondering and wishing he'd come back.

[TAGS]

@browneyedgirl22

#bucky #bucky smut #marvel #bucky fanfic #bucky reader insert #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns x reader #marvel smut #winter soldier #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier bucky barnes #winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier

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little-lovett · 1 year ago

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i adore sweenett not in the way that i think they actually love eachother and are a healthy couple at all. i just love them bc they are so silly and evil and trust eachother so deeply and rely on eachother and they were truly all the other one had. sweeney and mrs lovett are two very lonely people who found friendship and connection in eachother. their relationship is so full of longing and hurt and the attraction between them is there and it’s strong but the pain they are both experiencing is stronger. they were so close. they were almost almost almost there. sweenett is infuriating and beautiful and that’s why i love it. i don’t believe they loved eachother. i think they were a little in love with eachother, but only on the surface level. you cant deny sweeney loved her just a little bit. he’s got this woman at his feet, beautiful and enticing and loving, albeit extremely strange, annoying, and morally bankrupt. being without affection or a woman’s comfort for 15 years, of course sweeney found her feelings for him both frightening and tempting. mrs. lovett, on the other hand, is completely infatuated with him, refusing to acknowledge his flaws. she’s a widow and a hopeless romantic. sweeney was all she had. she was all he had. they did good business and had so much fun while it lasted before all the secrets poured out and they killed eachother. it was silly and scary and sad. i love sweenett — not exactly as a couple, but as a pair. a couple that almost happened and most definitely never should have happened. nellie lovett and sweeney todd: twin flames from hell

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valyrfia · 2 months ago

Note

RE: This ask on fanfic, fandom, and lestappen

(preface with, I love fanfic and fandom, and I've written for very big and small)

I have never experienced such bad fandom etiquette as I have with 1633. I wrote one multi chapter fic for the ship and 99% of ao3 comments I got were people asking when I'd publish the next chapter, which has always been a big no no in fandom. I deleted the fic because it felt bad that people didn't want to engage with what I had written, but, just ask about my update schedule. Also, people changing the date of their published fic to be more recent, so, it appears at the top of the 'recently updated page'! I have never seen this in any fandom before now! AO3 isn't Instagram! If you tag correctly, people will find your fic if they want to read it.

People are pushing 1633 constantly in very public spaces like Twitter, Insta and TikToK, where we know these drivers have accounts and look at comments/posts about them or on their own posts. Just today on Twitter I see Dan Howell (which what a fucking weird intersection of my past and current interests) being asked at a public panel about lestappen, just because he's mentioned liking F1 in the past. I know it gets easy clicks and engagement because it is popular. But, it's so far removed from behaviour that was ever considered acceptable in fandom.

I remember, back in 2013/14 there was a huge backlash to people bringing up fictional ships to actors/writers. There was discourse after every Supernatural or Teen Wolf fan forum/con panel when someone would inevitably ask about Destiel or Sterek. People would argue whether fanon and ships were appropriate to ask the real people behind the show about.

RPF is fine, I have written, currently write and will continue to engage in RPF spaces. But, there are boundaries that you must keep if you are going to engage with it. Tumblr and AO3 have always been considered locked fandom spaces. If a person goes onto these sites and searches themselves out, that's on them. But, it's implied in fandom that you keep to just these spaces or private chats

(personally, I'm sad I just missed out on the livejournal days... I got into fandom when everything was being moved over from there and fanfic.net onto ao3)

I understand younger social media users are used to an algorithm finding content for them. And on sites like Tumblr where the algorithm sucks or ao3, which doesn't have one. You have to search out the content you want yourself. Liking and kudos isn't enough, you actually have to engage in meaningly conversations and comments if you want to make friends. That can be scary! But, it's a soft skill that is slowly getting lost and with it fandom etiquette is going down the drain.

This is like...one of the last big serious ask I want to reply to on this topic because not everyone agrees with me (which, fine), but OP you put a lot of time into typing this up so I will honour that.

I think fandom, much like a lot of other things nowadays, have become less about fun and more about hitting a certain number of likes and interactions. That's why people push Lestappen on other social media even though most of us have explicitly said "can you not, thanks". The changing the date of the fic to push to an 'algorithm' infuriates me and is a personal pet peeve of mine. There's one that's doing that now on the Lestappen tag and I've point-blanked refused to read it literally BECAUSE of the date changing. People will read your fic if they want to, constantly pushing it to the top of the 'Date Updated' list does nothing except piss people off.

I will say I think the fictional ship discourse of 2014 was maybe driven in part by the fact that being gay was still seen as something much more 'novel' than even now. If we think about when marriage became legal in the US and all that...I still think though that it shows a level of self-awareness and self-regulation that we've lost in fandom. As my partner and I often to lament to each other, we've become so individualistic that people have lost the concept of shame. It's an idea that YOU are the exception and something should cater to YOU, instead of the other way round. In the case of fandom, this comes out as people acknowledging fandom etiquette in an abstract way, but still logging into their twitter account (WITH THEIR FACES ATTACHED! WHICH! THIS IS A TANGENT BUT IT BAFFLES ME! WHAT HAPPENED TO DIGITAL FOOTPRINT!) and posting about RPF. Fandom is not an abstract entity, fandom IS the people that interact with it–from authors to artists all the way to those who consume the content.

Also, I also JUST missed out on the lj days–the great migration was happening just when I was getting involved in fandom and I can't help but feel like I missed out on something special.

#asks #enigmabird #fandom etiquette

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linniewrites · 1 year ago

Text

3:25 ; “why aren’t you sleeping ?”

Meliodas x f!goddess!reader

wc: 821

The night was dark. And yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep. You had heard a conversation in the hallways earlier, and it had been stuck on your mind ever since. “Demons are so scary…” One had whispered to her friend. And she had answered, just as frightened, “I heard some of them have tricked humans into befriending them to kill them.” A third girl had joined in, but she didn’t seem afraid, she was disappointed by her friends, and by the humans. “That’s because humans are idiots. Who in their right mind could possibly believe that a demon would wanna talk to anyone else that isn’t a member of their race ?”

You felt the tears start to come up and threaten to spill and stain your cheeks. Was what they were saying true ? Did people truly find joy in making others suffer ? A sob broke through your mouth when one question found its place on your head. Is that what happened with Meliodas ? You ran, but it wasn’t fast enough, so you flew all the way to your apartments and locked yourself in your room to sob the sadness away. Now, a few hours later, you couldn’t fall asleep. So you decided to go outside for air. Elizabeth and your other fiends would scold you if they heard about it, but it was the only thing left to do. Your body unconsciously took you to the usual place where your meetings with your friend took place. You only realized where you were when your feet settled on the grass. You stayed there for a few minutes or maybe a few hours, you couldn’t really tell. Your head only raised when you heard a soft voice whisper your name, unsure of if it was really you in front of them. Your eyes met deep, black ones, who soon turned to their bright emerald. The cries you had succeeded in stopping came back up, surprising the demon. He leaped toward you, and delicately put his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you okay ? Why aren’t you sleeping ?” Your sobs got louder, and this time you pushed him away, making him fall on his back.

“Don’t do that ! Why’re you pretending like you care ? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with some other goddess, or maybe a fairy would do too right ?”

“What are you talking about ? I couldn’t sleep, so I came outside for air, that’s it.”

“Then go ! Go to fucking sleep, I don’t care ! Just leave me alone !”

“Okay, why’re you acting like this ? I didn’t do anything wrong ?” He tried to get closer to you to calm you down, but he stopped when you started pulling away from him. You laughed bitterly and jabbed your fingers on your temple.

“You think I’m so dumb, you think anyone that’s not a demon is dumb. But I’m not, and I don’t want to be friends with someone so mean.”

“What ? I don’t think you’re dumb, I think you’re the smartest person I know. And you’re also the nicest, so why are you being so rude ?”

“You really think I wouldn’t figure it out ? People talk you know ? I heard them say that demons have this habit of becoming friends with people just to kill them.”

“___, you really think I’d do that ?”

“The first time we met you tried to kill me, and then you were just, so willing to be my friend ! What happened that made you change your mind ?” You raised your voice at him once more, but you didn’t yell, you just sounded infuriated.

“I thought you were right. I knew that the way goddesses see us isn’t the way we are, so I figured it was the same for you.” He blushed and his voice got so quiet it was almost inaudible. “And you seemed like you didn’t mean any harm.”

“You thought I looked nice ? And that’s why you were listening to me ? After killing thousands of goddesses ?” He flinched at your last question, but then spoke up, defeated.

“I got home after meeting you and realized no one had ever cared for my vision of things. You were the first one… the first one that seemed to care about what I really had to say.” You stopped breathing for a moment, but when you started again, you started wailing. Your first real friend, the first one that wasn’t forced by your mother to remain by your side, you had tried to get rid of them. Soon, you felt strong arms embracing you, so you snuggled closer to Meliodas’ chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. His right hand found its place on the back of your head, and started combing through your hair to calm you down.

#sds meliodas #meliodas fluff #meliodas sds #meliodas smut #nnt meliodas #meliodas x reader #meliodas #sds x reader #seven deadly sins x reader #nnt

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molarbeardoc · 8 months ago

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Hey!

I started writing this like back when I first posted the MR Morse code video! Hope you enjoy

I present to you:

A WRITTEN Infection Regretevator au

Erm yeah big reveal idk where I’m going with this enjoy :3

"DAMN IT!"

It hissed, glaring at the beakers that sat before it.

It had been struggling to perfect the perfect poison for decades since that stupid cat was arrested. Yet each time it thought it had something, anything, it blew up in its face.

Sometimes literally…

"What am I doing wrong?! Why must this happen to me?! That flea-bag spent years and prison and come out shooting lasers from her eyes! Yet I can’t perfect basic science! I was head of my league! I controlled everything that happened within my time. I brought life to things who floated in jars! Even if they did turn their backs on me in the end…"

"WHY MUST I FAIL TIME AND TIME AGAIN?!"

It bellowed, its voice awakening its unwilling partner in crime and bringing attention to it from the yellow fool. God did it hate his overly pitched hysterical and nasally voice.

"Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Give up maybe? But then again, you’re about as stubborn as mule, hehehe."

"Silence freak."

"Well he’s got a point MR…"

The shackled being sat up, yawning as he butted in with his own opinion.

"You’ve been workin’ on this project for years. Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel.."

"I fail to see why your thoughts matter?"

"Command heard and followed…"

Despite it not being much of an instruction, MRManeuver knew that the rock downplaying his voice meant to shut up. He learned that the painful way and preferred to not be melted down into a mush like before hand…

"How typical of you! Silencing your lackey when he’s correct. Oh how you never change!"

"Didn’t I tell you to shut up?"

"Hey, my shop my rules. You agreed to follow my terms as long as I allowed you to reside here without fear of Ms. Retro, Jermbo, or Mach attacking you… Again…"

"I don’t fear them."

"It says, its hands trembling as it holds the beaker in its claws."

Enphoso chuckled at the joke, though the rock found it less than amusing, snapping its fingers and watching malicious as the man convulsed and held his throat.

"You test my patience every second you open your mouth. You work for me, understand..?"

It listened for a response from him as his mouth foamed before he choked out a silent ‘yes sir’. With the mover being reminded of his place, it returned the air to his lungs, ignoring his heaving gasps and coughs.

"And I thought I was cruel…"

The yellow grinning face adjusted his clothing, shooting a sympathetic glare towards Maneuver.

"You don’t compare to a God…"

"A fallen God you mean!"

MR let out an infuriated growl, but Enphoso knew he was correct.

Falling from the heavens weakened him significantly. Whatever he did, he could return with equal power.

"You and I both know I’m right…"

"My hatred for you grows daily."

"You hear that? It loves me."

"Shut up."

"Nuh uh…"

"You’re worse than that gradient."

"Okay wow… That’s an insult if I’ve heard one…"

"You’re right, that was too harsh, sorry…"

"It’s okay sweetheart."

MRManeuver listened to them, growing uncomfortable…

"MR?"

"Yes Enphoso?"

"I don't know if I can regret in this elevator alone."

"Me neither."

"It's just so scary without you…"

"I don't wanna lose you…"

"I have to tell you something-"

"Ever since the day I saw you-"

"You were special I can't lose you."

"I'll be so sad-"

"You’ll be so mad-"

"I won't be glad-"

"Here without you-"

"I'll be so sad if you walk away"

"This elevator just won't be the same"

"I'm the only person left to blame-"

"This digital circus just won't be the same"

"Ever since the day I saw you-"

"You were special I can't lose you."

"I'll be so sad-"

"You’ll be so mad-"

"I won't be glad-"

"Here without you-"

"I'll be so sad if you walk away"

"This elevator just won't be the same"

"I'm the only person left to blame-"

"This elevator just won't be the same"

MRManeuver could only watch in horror as they made out. Jaw dropped as confused terror filled his eyes.

"What the fu-"

Lmao

Happy April Fools day

Keep fooling around my silly little critters!

And if you’re upset about it not being serious

Don’t worry

Some of this is taken from the actual fic wink wink nudge nudge

#regretevator #regretevator mr #mr #mr regretevator #regretevator mrmaneuverer #mrmaneuver regretevator #mrmaneuver #regretevator enphoso #enphoso #enphoso regretevator #she regret on my evator

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aishangotome · 6 months ago

Text

Alfons Sylvatica: Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Premium Story

♡———♡

Alfons: Good morning, little robin.

(Huh... this voice is...)

Kate: ... !!

Alfons: Oops.

She jolted awake, and he, who had been close to her ear, swiftly moved away and lay down on the bed, smiling.

Alfons: In the end, we went all the way, huh?

Kate: Ah, ah... ah...

Alfons: What happened? You're making those noises. I haven't done anything to make you moan like that this morning.

Kate: Aahh! Don't remind me!

That's right... just like before, I have a clear memory of last night.

(I... again, mistook Alfons for my lover... and, did those things...)

But, in the first place, it's Alfons' fault for deceiving and embracing me.

I glare resentfully at the smile in front of me.

Alfons: I understand what you want to say. Please, I will gladly accept any harsh criticism.

Kate: It's cruel to deceive me again, it's cowardly to manipulate people's hearts without permission!

Alfons: Is that all? Your vocabulary is surprisingly limited.

(This, this man...)

Kate: Y-you, d-demon...!

Alfons: Ah ha! "Demon"!

Alfons: I like it, it's a phrase that suits you, a lover of theater.

He clapped his hands mockingly, and suddenly furrowed his brows in a theatrical manner.

Alfons: But, isn't it a bit much? Calling me a "demon"... to the man who was, even temporarily, your "lover"?

Alfons: Last night, you begged me so many times, looking so pleased...

His eyes approach, slipping into my heart like a whisper, and I involuntarily recoiled.

Alfons: You were gasping so loudly that the whole castle could have heard it.

Kate: …… huh!?

(Gasp…… huh? U-uh, lies…… I don't remember that……)

Alfons: …… It wasn't just a one-night stand, we've become quite involved, haven't we?

My pale face flushes instantly.

Kate: I-I…… I never intended to have this kind of relationship……

–I try to say I didn't, but the words catch in my throat.

Because I remember how I clung to the pleasure he gave me yesterday.

"This is what I want right now"…… Was it the illusion of love, or my own will that made me think that–,

(I…… I don't, know)

As I fall silent, he continues with amusement.

Alfons: Hehe, yes, you're right. If we were to say who's more at fault, it's 100% me.

Alfons: You could sue me and win, but what will you do?

Alfons laughs without a hint of remorse.

His smile is infuriating, but now I don't know what kind of face to make or how to wave my hand.

I must be his perfect plaything, since my face changes with every word he says.

(I won't let him do whatever he wants anymore...)

Kate: I'm not going to sue you.

Alfons: Oh, how forgiving you are.

Kate: But I won't let you play me around anymore.

Alfons: A declaration of war? Well, that's brave of you.

Alfons: But how do you plan to stop me?

--CHOICES--

I won't tell you!

I'll find out your weakness

I'll figure out a way

-------------

Kate: I won't tell you!

Alfons: Very clever. It's wise to keep your cards close to your chest.

Alfons: Well, even if you did think about it, I doubt you could find any weakness of mine to exploit.

Kate: ....!

Alfons: Oh my, have I hit a nerve?

Alfons smiles confidently.

Kate: A-anyway! I don't want to be shown any more illusions.

Alfons: Why do you dislike illusions?

Kate: Because... I don't want to miss anything important.

Illusions cannot become reality.

Kate: When I can't see reality, I might be missing something important.

Alfons smiles pityingly at my words.

––As if to say that I don't know what "reality" is yet.

Alfons: ...There's nothing more important than feeling good, Miss Kate.

Alfons: Life is a tragedy. You need an escape. Don't you agree?

Alfons: It's best to paint over all the scary and sad things with fun and forget about them.

As he whispered seductively, he captured my fingertips on the sheets and gently intertwined them.

Even though I should refuse, saying, "Please stop," his gestures, his touch––for some reason, they stimulate a soft spot in my heart.

(……As I thought.)

(Whenever Alfons touches me like this……)

(It's when I'm about to be consumed by negative emotions.)

Fear, sadness––he tries to stir up those feelings with playful sweet talk and drive them out of my heart.

(You could say I'm being taken advantage of in my weakness, but...)

Somehow, it feels more accurate to say that he became my escape rather than him using me for pleasure.

(Is that why……even though he's doing this to me, I––)

I can't completely dismiss Alfons as a despicable villain.

(But……)

Kate: Forgetting everything because it's painful, that's……unhealthy.

Alfons: People forget, Ms. Kate. Forgetting is a natural self-purification process.

Alfons: Besides, aren't unhealthy things more attractive?

Alfons: Isn't it boring to live a healthy life?

He always whispers words that are the opposite of common sense.

But––for some reason, his words gently resonate with my heart.

(Probably, the harder reality is)

Alfons: I'll make a prediction.

I raise my eyes at his voice.

I'm sure what he's going to say is nonsense.

Yet, a slight sense of anticipation makes my heart beat faster.

Alfons: When you remember yesterday, it will definitely be less about a bloody and serious murder scene, and more about...

Alfons: ...the shameless and exciting sex we had.

Kate: Wh-What!?

(As I thought, he was up to no good!)

Kate: Th-That's not true!

Alfons: Oh my, you don't have to be so embarrassed.

Alfons: You blush so easily at the slightest thing, you're so cute.

I slap away his hand that's stroking my flushed cheeks.

Kate: I'm blushing because I'm angry!

Alfons: You look lovely when you're angry too.

Kate: ……Wh-!? Don't say such nonsense……

Alfons: Let's play again, Ms. Kate.

Kate: Wait……

Alfons quickly slips out from under the sheets and leaves the room.

Leaving only the lingering scent on the bed.

Kate: He's gone……

This is the second time I've seen him off with such a casual back, as if we weren't lovers last night.

My chest aches slightly as I watch his back disappear behind the door without looking back.....This must also be because of the illusory feelings of love he made me feel.

After getting dressed, pushing down my complicated feelings, I left the room to ask about last night's mission.

William was in the common room and told me what had happened.

William: The captured men were secretly transported to a warehouse owned by the Crown.

Kate: Were you able to find out anything?

William: Yes, they were interrogated last night and spilled all sorts of information.

William: They claim to have been hired by the workhouse manager to "cleanse" the slums.

Kate: Cleanse...?

To clean, to purify……The literal meaning and what was actually done are far apart.

(The workhouse is a place to give jobs and food to the poor....)

(Killing the people there is "cleansing"....?)

William: Do you think you can write a report about last night's mission?

William asks me, as I'm still trying to understand.

Kate: No……I don't think the two "cursed" people were guilty.

Kate: If it weren't for them, there would have been more victims.

William: Even though they're murderers, retraining a person and twisting their thoughts?

Kate: ……I thought there are things that can only be protected by doing so.

William: I see. You're a clever and realistic robin.

William, with a cheerful smile on his lips, accepted my thoughts without affirming or denying them.

William: Will you be able to continue accompanying us on missions?

Kate: ……What do you mean?

William: I'm wondering if the memories of last night will cause you any trouble.

(Memories of last night––)

The scene of the horrific massacre, which I had convinced myself was a play, should come to mind.

––But the voice that cursed me brings another scene to mind.

When you remember yesterday, it will definitely be less about––

(To remember Alfons's prediction at a time like this……!)

My trembling and fear are replaced by his indecent prediction.

(I'm trying to think about important things, so please don't bother me……!)

I desperately shook off the illusion of Alfons in my head.

William: Kate?

Kate: I-It's okay. I can continue to accompany you on future missions without any problems.

Kate: Please tell me about the mission and what's next.

William: The kind of missions that Alfons and you go on will be a little further down the road.

William: ……In a few days, I'm scheduled to go talk to their employer.

Kate: If that person is the mastermind……will this series of incidents be solved?

William: Well, I don't know. The orphanage director the other day also used the term "cleansing."

William: But there was nothing to indicate a connection with the current workhouse manager.

William: Their ideals are aligned. They use similar terms.……But there's no direct connection.

Kate: So……

Kate: There's someone higher up who's connecting them……or manipulating them?

William: –It's the Crown's job to find out.

Roger: I'm curious to discover what makes Al tick, aren't you?

Liam: And you're tailing him for that? Kate, you're quite the naughty girl.

Kate: Sorry, and thank you for helping me.

Liam: Not at all. I'm happy to do anything I can to be of service to you, Kate!

––This all happened just a little while ago.

William told me to take it easy today, and I was about to head back to my room when...

Alfons: ..............

I saw Alfons going out alone in the daytime, even though it wasn't for a mission.....I asked Roger and Liam, whom I happened to meet, to follow him.

(I'm grateful to them for going along with my sudden idea.)

While walking sandwiched between the two of them, I glance at Roger on my left.

(Come to think of it……)

Roger's ability is to hear sounds within 100 yards.

(……I wonder if he heard anything about last night.)

I suddenly get anxious, and my heart starts to beat unpleasantly.

Roger: Hm? What is it, lil lady?

Kate: N-Nothing.

I turn my face away, and after a beat, Roger raises his voice as if he remembered something.

Roger: Ah, I "didn't hear" what happened between you and Al last night. Don't worry.

Kate: What!?

(Can Roger hear my inner voice too!? Did he notice my heartbeat……!?)

My mind goes completely blank, and I freeze. Roger waves his hand in front of my face.

Roger: Hey, are you okay?

Kate: Y-Yes! But how can you say you "didn't hear"……because your ability...

Roger: Calm down. My ability allows me to pick and choose the sounds I want to hear.

Roger: Or rather, I trained myself to be able to do that.

Roger: At first, all sorts of sounds came in indiscriminately, so it was tough.

Kate: I see, that's good. ……By the way, last night, Alfons and I didn't do anything special.

When I hurriedly deny it, the two look at me in exasperation.

Liam: ……Kate, it might be a little difficult to deny that.

Roger: Even without super hearing, unfortunately, it's obvious.

Kate: ..........

I turn my face away from them in silence, blushing with regret and embarrassment.

(Even though Alfons was showing me illusions, I was really out of it yesterday……)

I force my gaze towards Alfons to hide my embarrassment, and see him going down a dimly lit staircase.

(Is there a shop in the basement……?)

Kate: What's down there……?

Roger: A bar.

Liam: He often drinks in the afternoon.

(He's really unhealthy……I thought he was out partying at night and sleeping during the day, but drinking in the afternoon is also a daily routine.)

He drank hot tea without hesitation, and I feel like he doesn't take enough care of his body.

(I'm a little worried about his health……)

(No, no, I shouldn't be worried about Alfons……)

(I'm here to find his weakness.)

(Rumors that he wouldn't want spread, or something he cares about that could be used for leverage……)

(That's why I'm here!)

Roger: What do you want to do? Should we go in?

Kate: ……Yes. Will you two come with me?

Roger: I'll accompany you for a beer.

I nod, of course, at Roger's conscientious suggestion.

Kate: It's a deal!

As I was about to leave the alley and look again at the shop Alfons had entered, Liam lightly tapped my shoulder with his fingertip.

Liam: Hey, we'll be spotted like this……Let's disguise ourselves a bit.

Chapter 6.

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikemen series #ikemen villains #alfons sylvatia main route #alfons sylvatica translation #cybird

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ourghoststories · 7 months ago

Text

Recovery [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

I wasn't a fan of Bucky, I never liked the idea of super soldiers, even with Steve Rogers

We never got on and now wasn't any different, even if I liked him, doesn't mean I had to literally like him.

He had recently gotten hurt on one of his high priority missions, and it made me feel a sadness in the pit of my stomach that only meant one thing, I had to care for the super soldier.

As much as I'd tried or I'd like to deny it, those jittery feelings I felt betrayed me to the reality of that and I couldn't fight it, especially not now that he had been shot in the stomach, it was pretty serious, even the doctors were putting him under strict conditions, he couldn't do much and I was the one who had to look after him.

"Hey Bucky" I smiled caringly, despite having preconceived ideas about him.

"Oh, you're the help... Nice to meet you, you already know the name" he chuckled.

My walls were up and I couldn't help but feel like he was a good person, but I wasn't made for looking after anyone, not even myself.

"Yeah hi, uh I'm y/n" I mumbled anxiously.

For the first time I actually felt scared, what if I screwed up or what if he did? It was a 50/50 effort, it needed to be.

"I don't need looking after, gunshots take a few days, minimal bruising and they go away, no help necessary" he argued, putting up his defences.

"Bucky, I was sent to help you for a reason, you may not need any help but I'm not a quitter and you got sent me for a reason, it wasn't just one gunshot injury, you were fired on multiple times and it's worse than usual" I said sternly.

"I'm fine, I don't need someone looking after me who- no offense - knows nothing about me or what I've been through, especially now" he said abruptly before he pulled his bedsheets up higher.

"Seriously Barnes, that's not gonna cut it- I know what you're doing and why you're doing it and also that you don't trust me one little bit which is infuriating because I also feel the same way, trust is a hard thing for me too, so don't act like a insolent child and just choose the easy way out- not out, but through- damn it" I stammered, trying to do the right thing.

"I don't need help, seriously, you could get yourself killed don't you know I'm the Winter Soldier, a train assassin who takes lives mercilessly" he spat sarcastically.

"I know that's not you, it never was. I've been made privy to your case file, I know what your situation is, I know you on paper... I just don't know you in person" I said softly, making my way to the bed.

"You mind if I" I gestured towards the bed so he could move his feet and I could sit there.

"Look, I know we barely know each other but you work so hard in the field, it doesn't mean you can't work hard while we're spending time together, we can do more research into the people who are the targets right now... I know Sam's pretty keen on you resting and letting him steer the ship for a while and by the way, just because you're hurt and you need a break that you don't mean anything to anyone, that couldn't be further from the truth" I argued passionately, not caring if he liked it or not.

I just needed to take my role seriously, even if he was some big, scary, super soldier that I needed to be wary of.

The case file and notes contained a lot, but they were no way descriptive of who he was, it was just informative data that didn't have anything about who he was as a person.

"Please just... I don't like trusting new people, I barely contact anyone and I stick to myself, I know you've been around me and proved yourself more than a little bit about being a good agent, but if you want to know me you're gonna have to persevere, I'm not easy to get along with" he said shyly, looking down at the ground and avoiding eye-contact.

"I know how this goes, Barnes, just let me complete my mission, as you do all of yours. You're an inspiration to so many people" I mumbled.

"Yeah and another group of people are equally convinced I'm a killer, I was only pardoned because of Steve, he did all the work, he rescued me, heck, if it wasn't for him I'd never be myself. 90 years I fought and fought and took countless lives, people with families and loved ones, how's a guy like me ever gonna make up for that", he spat, getting angry at himself before he tensed and winced in pain.

"Argh" he groaned, obviously overdoing it.

"If you'd just listen Sargent, this wouldn't be so difficult, for either of us" I lectured as he grunted, this time out of stubbornness.

"I'm taking that as a yes" I smiled, before I squeezed his hand and saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, even though he was trying to hide it.

"Don't call me that, it's not right, I haven't been that fo-"

"For 90 years. I get it, stop being sorry for yourself, I know this sucks but we can work past this. Your therapist has instructed me to be stern with you, you know that you're doing a great job right? I'm impressed with how you've been going. You're allowed to struggle with what's going on, I'm not taking that away from you Bucky" I comforted.

I could tell Bucky secretly - or maybe not so secretly - liked being called Sargent, even if in his mind he didn't fully associate with it, it was the opposite of a trigger, a positive association word.

He took a breath in "okay, I'll give it a go, I will- but you gotta help me and work with me, especially with the new arm, it takes a while to get adjusted to. It's been playing up since a bullet got lodged in the vibranium, but I assume you know how to help with that?".

"Yes I do, I can help with the arm in multiple ways, but it's gonna be good for you to do some physio and manual manipulation for the rest of your aches, after all, you keep throwing yourself in the deep end with these missions. The government are only letting you off the hook because you're providing them with a service. The rest of the world aren't necessarily happy about that, you should be careful" I said calmly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm aware of the consequences... The government want me as long as I have some ideas about their assets and when they're being targeted I'm considered one of them. If I work with you, what do I get in terms that we'd both understand?" He smirked.

"Careful what you push for soldier- what happens if I was up for grabs, what would you say if I said 'just say the words'" I winked.

"Oh shit, you're not even joking. Doll I think I'm too old for you and miserable but I'd take you up on the offer for a bit of fun" he chuckled, the first time id seen him genuinely smiling the whole time id been around.

"Oh wow not that kind of fun- I'm not saying no, I just-", he paused "shut it Barnes, yeah I get it, sorry y/n" he said, mentally facepalming.

I giggled "you're not too old, you're just right... But let's see how things go first, and how much of a crack you're willing to give it".

"Got it, you won't hear two words from me" he fake saluted.

"James, you just said more than two words" I chuckled again, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"You're gonna make me blush" he fake swooned.

So the journey continued with the Sargent and I.

---A/N

hello I hope everyone is doing well, Darcy is the one writing these Bucky stories because I can't get enough lol, are they gonna release more tftws? because I loved it so much

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