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devilfic · 2 years ago

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❝where two are joined, relentlessly❞

IX. from now on.

parts: previously. plot: endings give way to beginnings. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: romance, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, grief, the author only understands so much about medical protocol I’m sorry, minor character death, grief. words: 5.5k.

a/n: well, this is the last chapter. thank you all for keeping up with this series! I’ve had a wonderful time exploring this little world with my bruce and I’m happy to have gotten to share this series with all of you. your enthusiasm and kindness has meant a lot to me. hope y’all enjoy~

You had a memory—shortly before the death of the Waynes—of seeing Wayne Manor for the first time. Of course, by that point, the sprawling mansion was being called Gotham Orphanage and Thomas, Martha, and Bruce Wayne were christening its rebirth on live TV.

You weren’t any different than every other kid in your class for daydreaming about the place. How lucky little Bruce Wayne must have been to have all that to himself! It was a far-off dream for someone like you, but you’d wanted to visit. Just once. Then it burned down on the news and that dream went up in smoke with it.

Now, as you wade through weeds and broken beer bottles that decorate the front yard, careful that you don’t trip in the dark, you realize that childish dream of yours never really died. Bruce is waiting for you in the foyer when you finally get through the door, “I get that you’re a bat and all, but some of us can’t see very well at night.” Before you can clock his reaction, Bruce shines his flashlight directly into your eyes.

“Neither can bats. They use echolocation.” The sound of his voice and his approaching footsteps cut through the blinding light until he’s standing right before you.

“What are we doing here, anyway?”

Bruce follows your line of sight to the broken chandelier overhead casting reflections of light against moldy, torn wallpaper. Shining his flashlight directly on it makes diamonds dance in his eyes, “Research.”

Without further discussion, Bruce turns abruptly and leaves the hallway without you.

You’re quick to catch up, only stumbling on wet, loose debris every few feet. Bruce is always quick to grab hold of you when you lose your footing. “Not that I’m not having fun, but this kinda seems like a job for you and your pal Gordon. I can’t imagine I’ll be much help here.”

“You’ll be plenty,” and then Bruce pushes his flashlight into your hands once you reach the staircase, every other step fractured or chipped off, “point the light up?” You do as told, light landing on a large hole going through the floor of the second story.

“What’re you researching?”

“The manor.”

“Pretty sure this place has a Wikipedia page.”

Bruce cuts his eyes to you and smiles, “I need a closer look.”

When Bruce starts moving to the next room, you obediently follow at a much slower pace. There isn’t much to look at given the history of the manor. Smoke clings to the walls and the architecture is falling apart at the seams, but it fills you with enchantment all the same. You try to imagine what you’d seen in pictures before, and though you know your imagination will never live up to the real thing, you still try.

The next room ends up being a much bigger space. The chandeliers in here are more intact thanks to how high the ceilings reach. If you looked hard enough, you could even make out the detailed cornice all along the ceiling. As for what you can clearly see, chairs are lined up in broken rows; it’s the shell of a movie theater or a common room for the children. But long before that, it was something else, “Was this the ballroom?”

“It was,” his voice is tinged with melancholy, examining the room, “it was much more impressive when I was younger.”

“I bet. Would’ve killed to come to a ball here. Did you guys ever have a chocolate fountain?”

“No, though it wasn’t for lack of requesting.”

You giggle, a younger, more petulant Bruce Wayne appearing in your mind. “Can I ask what you’re researching in here?”

Behind the cowl, you make out a nervous twitch at his brow. “I’ve been seeing your mother.”

You blanch, “I’m sorry?”

Bruce recoils at the sharpness in your voice, realizing his mistake, and he scrambles to fix it, “I’ve been visiting her. In the hospital.”

“Oh... really? She hasn’t mentioned you at all.”

“I asked her to keep it a secret.” At your scandalized reaction, Bruce smiles in what you think is an attempt to be reassuring, “It’s nothing bad.”

“Is it something I’m not going to like?”

“The opposite, actually.”

“That just makes me nervous.” You found it difficult to believe your mother had much to offer someone like Bruce, even more so when Alfred was there. Unless Alfred was in on it too... You couldn’t be the only one out of the loop, could you? Now you were sufficiently unsettled. “Can I know what it is, at least?”

“At least.”

“Bruce.”

“I promise,” and he keeps the humor out of his voice to convince you, sincere, “I can’t leave you in the dark if you’re a part of it.”

“Part of what?” Ideas begin to swim in your head, each more incredible than the last.

Bruce captures the hand that’s closest to him, holding it between both of his own, saying nothing for a moment. You’re glad he isn’t actually a bat; if he could hear your frantic heartbeat, he’d probably have you rooming with your mother in Gotham General until it calmed down... or maybe he’d finally just tell you. You scoot up to his shoulder to see which possibility might win.

“Mayor Reál once told me that I could be doing more for the city, and I’ve been thinking about what Selina said to you. About me doing nothing for Gotham. It didn’t really... hit me, that my name could be anything other than a burden. Your mother gave me some advice on what to do with that name recently. I’ve been working on an idea, and if you’d like, I want you to be part of it.” You notice the slight shake of his hands clasped around your own, though you don’t detect any fear. Nerves, actually. Excitement. He was excited.

You watch, in awe, as he turns his head to meet your eyes, “I’m going to the mayor’s office next week with a proposal: offer rehabilitation to the dropheads seeking shelter in the orphanage, and then tear it all down. And rebuild,” Bruce’s voice trembles, “rebuild everything. Give a new generation of children in Gotham a chance. This time, there will be no mistake. I’ll make sure of it myself.”

“Bruce.”

“And I want you to... do it with me. I’ve been wanting to do some rearranging of Wayne Enterprises anyway, give Alfred a break and put someone permanent in charge. And you can stay as you are, or, if you’d like, I’d like to put you in charge of the finances for the new orphanage. I don’t want that money going to anyone other than those kids. There’s no one I trust more than you for this.”

Well, out of all your incredible ideas, you’d expected nothing close to this.

The orphanage had been a chilling reminder of Gotham’s failure long before it burned down. It’s why it was a graveyard now, a shell of the home it was and was meant to be. At least it being in ruins had been more favorable to the hell it had been before.

But there were people willing to take a chance on Gotham. It might’ve started with a vigilante, but it was trickling down. Mayors, police commissioners, normal people like you. You hadn’t felt this much hope since the dawn of those horrible floods. Not since you realized while watching that soon to be unmasked vigilante- no, hero, standing on that arena rooftop and pulling people to safety, that there could be something more.

“I, uh... Jesus Christ,” your disbelieving laugh draws a nervous one out of Bruce, “you’ve really thought this through. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve helped.”

“I wanted to do it alone. I wanted to be ready.”

It was a large step up from being a CEO’s butler’s personal assistant, and the responsibility of being in charge of something so dear to Bruce and so important to the city was a heavy one. It wasn’t a choice for you to make lightly.

But could you really imagine doing anything else?

“Well... we’ll definitely have to talk more details, of course. I’ll help you proofread everything, and then we’re going to have to meet with the accountants at least once to smooth out the logistics but... yes, I would love to. I would really love to.”

Bruce exhales in relief, swirling the early summer air between your faces, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so big in his life. It’s gone in an instant but his joy still vibrates through his touch. He resembles a younger Bruce in that moment, a Bruce you never got to know before news of the Waynes rocked the nation all those years ago. You can’t help but take his face into your hands and burn it into your memory. You don’t ever want to forget it. “Now, can we continue this research in the light of day, maybe?”

When the mayor’s receptionist instructs you both to take a seat, you run your eyes over the proposal in your hands until each word is printed into your mind, and then you do it a few more times for good measure. “She’s not going to bite, you know.” Bruce points out.

You roll your eyes, “Cut me some slack. I’m meeting the mayor.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as a fan.”

“I’m not,” though, your cheeks go a little hot anyway, “I just think she’s... cool.”

Bruce snorts low in his throat, not even gathering the attention of the receptionist mere feet away, but it’s enough to make your ears burn. “Would you like to pitch the proposal, then?”

“God, no! I’m too nervous to make any sense.” Bruce reaches over and pats the back of your hand, discreet. It’s more than enough to help calm your nerves that little bit. You take a deep breath and try not to leave sweaty fingerprints in the paper you’re holding. “I’ve got to keep my phone on, anyway. The hospital could call.”

“We can reschedule.”

You look at Bruce with wild eyes, “Reschedule with the mayor? You’re crazy.”

“I don’t want to add more stress to your plate,” Bruce answer simply, “and for what it’s worth, I’m sure it went well.”

The surgery had been penciled into your calendar for weeks at this point. With your mother’s illness growing more arduous on her body, she’d been advised to get as much of the malign growth removed before her quality of life plummeted even further. It would be a routine surgery, you were assured over and over, but it hadn’t made you any less nervous. You’d been jittery ever since leaving her behind.

“Yeah,” you murmur, “you’re probably right.”

A solid voice cuts through the moment, just as powerful in a small room as it was on stage in front of thousands. Bella Reál stands in the doorway to her office and gives you both a smile, “Mr. Wayne. I’m glad you could make it.”

Bruce is more than capable of doing all the talking. He’s rehearsed enough on his own, replaying his pitch to you at breakfast and over the phone and in your bed (or his) late at night. He’d repeated it so much that you’d remembered it all word for word, mouthing each sentence as he spoke. He’s nervous and keeps his hands clasped in his lap in lieu of reaching for you, but he does it. By the end of the pitch, Bella is sold.

Somewhere in between discussion of when to break ground and sharing specific costs, you feel your pocket begin to vibrate. Bruce only needs one look from you before you’re excusing yourself into the lobby.

“How’d it go?” You breath out before the nurse on the other line can even get a word in.

It’s Annie, you realize, but only halfway through her sentence when what she’s saying starts hitting you. You can hear her voice quiver as she relays back the standard protocol, “The surgery was successful, but your mother’s condition has worsened. She woke up in an abnormal amount of discomfort, and after some testing, it seems to be due to internal bleeding.”

“Bleeding? Has it stopped?” The receptionist’s eyes cut to you as you stammer.

“We’ve been trying to get her stabilized, and we don’t think the bleeding is severe enough to warrant another operation just yet, but we’ve given her a transfusion and we’ve got her on more fluids to help the process. It would be best if you came by as soon as possible, she wants to see you.”

There are several different thoughts going through your head. The assurance that the situation isn’t as severe as it could be is only comforting to an extent, but the invisible war your mother’s body was fighting left a pit in your stomach. There was nothing you could do to help her but be by her side. There was nothing you could do but hope that she would be fine.

She would. She would make it through. You couldn’t afford to think otherwise.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Thanks, Annie.”

You exchange your goodbyes and barely have the soundness of mind to leave the receptionist with a message for Bruce. She seems frazzled by the suddenness but assures you she’ll pass it on once the meeting adjourns, and that’s all you really have time for before your brain shuts out everything else. You just need to be with her. There would be time for everything else later.

It’s half an hour later when Bruce gets the news.

Life buzzes on about the hospital floor, but it feels lonely standing here, as if room 614 had been carved out of time and space and existed in a separate world to Bruce’s own. Annie doesn’t even spare him a smile, unlike herself, “Hey, Bruce. You can go on in.” His thanks is simple, certain that the nurse is in no shape for conversation, but before he can get the door open, Annie intervenes one last time, “Eline’s peaceful, but... it can be difficult. For family members.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

She gets out of his way then.

Your chair is pulled up to the hospital bed. One of your hands is clasped in Eline’s while she watches the news on its lowest volume, your other tucked against your waist as if you might be sick. Your face, however, is the most lifeless he’s ever seen it. If you felt sick, you didn’t look like you had the heart to care.

You register he’s there when your eyes flit to him, but you don’t make a move to say hello. Eline does, however, smiling, “Took you long enough.”

Instead of bringing his chair to her bedside, Bruce rounds the foot of the bed and hovers behind you, “I considered calling an ambulance for a ride, but I didn’t want to steal the spotlight.” He’s thankful for the comforting sound of Eline’s laugh, “How are you feeling?”

Despite her jovial tone, she’s sickly with exhaustion written deep into the bones of her face. He wasn’t familiar with the slow toll your body failing on you could have; he’d experienced seeing the life sapped out of others in an instant, faces often still full of life even as they went cold. Your mother, on the other hand, looked as if she needed a long, long sleep. “I could be better. How’d the meeting go? Kid told me the mayor loved it.”

At the moment, you didn’t look capable of talking about anything. You continued to stare at your hand intertwined with your mother’s. You move only to breathe. Bruce feels strange sharing good news, “We can break ground starting late June. Maybe sooner.”

You twitch just a little. Your head moves like you intend to look up at him but you don’t complete the action. You continue to stare ahead.

Eline reaches her free hand out to him and Bruce is quick to take it, noting how cold it was. Back when he’d first held it, it had kept his own hands warm. Her touch is no less motherly, but it feels... wrong. All of it feels wrong, “Knew you could do it. I’m telling you, it’s only going to look up from here. First, the orphanage, next... well, who knows?”

“I’d love for you to come see it when it’s all fixed up.” His voice drops low, and those who can hear it are aware of its hopeful undercurrent.

“That’d be nice, huh, kid? You always wanted a look inside that place.” Her prompting doesn’t elicit any response from you. You’re catatonic while Eline looks on, heart visibly breaking a little more with every silent second that passes. Her eyes slowly shift back to Bruce. “It can happen sometimes. Complications in surgery. Doctor said they’ll keep an eye on it, but I just get a feeling. You know?” Bruce can’t say he does, but he nods, “But I think I did pretty good.”

“You did. A star patient, I heard.”

“Not that. I mean... I think I did pretty good for myself. To go out like this.”

Your mother had been dancing around it this whole time, and only now were the words out in the open, the force you needed to break apart completely. Bruce reaches forward and grasps your shoulders as you lurch toward her, body shaking all over, “Don’t say that.”

A stranger could mistake Eline’s expression for one of indifference, but in the few weeks that Bruce had gotten to know your mother, he’d learned of all the layers that lied beneath. It was taking all there was in her not to react to you the way he was sure she wanted to. “It’s not going to get better,” her tone is cruel, forcing reality on you, “I’m weak and it keeps spreading and... how many surgeries can I really afford to have?”

“As many as you need. I would make sure of that.” Bruce insists.

“It’s a waste,” you flinch at your mother’s assertion, “no, no it is. I’m tired. This isn’t going away. The fact I’ve made it this long is a miracle, and I’m happy I made it this long. I’m happy I got to have a wonderful kid. And I’m happy I got to see you grow up. And I’m happy that you’ll be loved even when I’m gone.”

Your head shakes back and forth, muttering to yourself. Bruce has never seen you this way. He doesn’t want to see you this way ever again.

It is just so slow.

When Thomas and Martha Wayne’s lives were taken in front of him, Bruce had skyrocketed through so many emotions. The terror from being cornered, the shock at seeing the gaping wounds, the panic upon realizing he was utterly helpless, and an overwhelming agony as he cried, alone, until he’d screamed himself numb.

Seconds. He’d lost them in seconds. So quickly had his parents been taken from him that details blurred if he didn’t think about them hard enough. What came first? The tears or the rage?

But Eline goes slowly.

It’s between you and Bruce to hold onto hope that she doesn’t have. She murmurs a thought every once in a while, pointing out something on the TV, and hums a broken tune. Bruce watches the TV to give her privacy, his heart racing each time he looks over to see if it’ll be the last time. You alternate between crying and humming along too.

When her vitals plummet, they find what Eline had already suspected. It doesn’t take them long to wheel her away for emergency surgery. The nurses assure you both that it’ll be quick. They know what’s wrong, they know how to stop it. They just need a little more time.

She doesn’t come back.

Comforting in this gentle way doesn’t come easy to him, but it’s almost second nature the way Bruce takes you into his arms and holds you.

It’s the worst feeling in the world. It’s excruciating. He’d always thought it’d be different for you, when it ever came time to grieve, because you’d have time that he never had. You’d had years to say goodbye, as callous as it was to think, so maybe it wouldn’t tear you up so much.

In reality, you cried just like he did, voice cracking after the strain became too much. Bruce remembered how raw his throat had been the next day, barely able to speak, and resists the urge to smooth a hand over your own throat.

You deserve to cry, and you’re allowed to let it hurt.

Bruce Wayne isn’t there for the funeral.

Someone is, but it’s not Bruce Wayne. Throughout the service, you see him at the edge of the crowd, dressed unrecognizably to the untrained eye, flanked by (more recognizably) Alfred and Dory. The few people that inquire of the sinewy stranger can never get close enough to look at him. You don’t blame the little family and friends that waver in the pews, sneaking glances.

He’s the first person there and the last one to leave. Alfred and Dory come to pay their respects together. Dory is a chatterbox complaining about how hectic the traffic was to get here, and Alfred smooths his hands over your sleeves and promises to leave the lights on for you. The only one who doesn’t approach you is Bruce.

Though there’s a feast of a reception going on for a good hour or two after the funeral, he waits outside in the rain until you come around with a slice of cake one of your aunts had made. It was your mother’s favorite. “You sure you’re not hungry? There’s some food left in there.” You ask, peeking under the bill of his Gotham Knights’ baseball cap.

Bruce leans closer in some vain attempt to guard you from the weather, though it’s difficult with his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. Inside, there are still some people lingering around the reception hall laughing over memories they shared of your mother. You notice Bruce’s discomfort and nudge him with your arm, “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

He’d seen you plenty. The first few days—sure—you holed up in your room and left only when necessary. The others shuffled around you, leaving you a breadth of room to be alone. What waking moments that weren’t spent in sorrow were for getting preparations together, and you’d only forced yourself to function recently, but he was always still there: food put away on its own, clothes picked off the floor, things put back in their places when you were sure they hadn’t been before. You’d assumed the lapse in memory was why everything was always just... taken care of.

And then there was the Bat.

You didn’t leave the tower often, but when you did (because you didn’t want to talk, because you needed more time), you’d take solitary walks in the city. You kept your head down the way you’d been taught and stuck to the crowded parts of the city, walking at a speed that kept others from approaching you. Sometimes you did look up though, just because you would get a prickling at the back of your neck that something in the air had shifted.

After all, every rooftop in Gotham is his perch. Your eyes had started to naturally scan where the city ended and the sky began to find him, and it usually only took a glimpse for him to leave. You’d still be registering his cowl against the backdrop of the full moon and he’d already be gone, smoke in the night. In his own way, he took care of you.

Despite his wet jacket, Bruce’s body heat burns through, and you’re quickly reminded of how much you missed touching another body like this. “How are things?”

“Alfred and Dory miss you,” you smile at that, “Mayor Reál sends her condolences.”

“And you?”

You don’t even have to see Bruce’s face to know he’s pink in the cheeks now. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

Bruce mulls over your words for a few minutes. Twilight lingers on the horizon, and soon you’d be seeing Bruce off for his nightly duties as the Bat, but you’re thankful he’s in no hurry. “I didn’t want anyone around when it happened to me. Not Alfred, not anyone. Still, he... was always there. Even if I couldn’t see him. Even when I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to do the same. I wanted to wait until you were ready.”

“I... figured.” Bruce shifts lightly, not enough to disturb your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know if I’m ready. But I do miss seeing you. Out of the shadows, I mean.”

Bruce brings one hand out of his pocket and brings you a little closer. Unsure if you’re comfortable with more. You’d think you’d been starved of touch since birth with the way you react to it. “Maybe I’ll... wait in the corner of your room at night until you wake up.”

The very image makes you shiver and laugh. “I’d prefer you just sit with me. Or let me sit with you. I’ll even let you tinker with my car a little more.”

Bruce doesn’t answer in time. People start pouring out of the reception hall as the rain lets up and the sun goes down, exchanging well wishes as Bruce hides his face under the cover of night. By the time everyone is cleared out, twilight has turned into the cloudy, black night characteristic of Gotham. It won’t be long now.

“Bruce, can I ask you for a favor?”

Bruce catches your eyes, breath going still. You don’t know what he thinks you’re going to ask for, but he looks braced for the worst. “Anything.”

“Will you take me for a ride?”

His shoulder relaxes beneath your head. The bike is just across the lot and you walk hand in hand until Bruce situates his helmet on you. You’d insisted once that he be the one to wear the helmet when riding together, though that was shut down with such intensity that you dared never to suggest it again. It did help that he bought you your own helmet days later, though.

You climb on once Bruce settles down, arms finding their familiar place around his torso. You hope he doesn’t mind that you’re holding him much tighter than usual.

With the cheek of your helmet pressed in the spot between his shoulder blades, Gotham flies by in a flurry of lights and sounds. At every stoplight, citizens of the city rush about: some to work the evening shift at a diner, some finally on their way from work, and others just like you—wandering. At every stoplight, Bruce reaches a hand back to your knee. Each time, you snuggle that much closer into him.

You go on for what feels like hours. Perhaps it is. All you know is that Bruce doesn’t take you home until your grip starts to go slack.

You think he might leave.

Instead, once Bruce has settled you under your covers, he crawls into the other side—his side—and waits until you reach for him to hold you.

“Don’t you have patrol tonight?” You whisper.

“Yes.” He replies, hesitant.

Perhaps he knows. There’s no way he hadn’t heard you waking up with night terrors, heard you crying and mumbling in your sleep before your dreams released you. He probably knew already, but it didn’t hurt to ask, “Then... can you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep.”

You can’t see his face with your own concealed against his chest. You can only hear his very steady heartbeat thumping in a peaceful tune, one single breath his answer, “Okay.”

The night terrors make it hard to fall asleep on your own, but you’re out within minutes and hope that at least you won’t wake to him pulling away. You don’t think you can handle tonight alone.

But morning comes, and there are no night terrors, and Bruce is still holding you in the same position you’d fallen asleep in. The certainty that this was no mistake on his part is enough to lull you back to bed. Sleep is the most peaceful it’s been all week.

2 months later.

“Careful, whole place is a mess right now. You’ll need one of these.”

A hardhat is passed into your hands seconds before the construction worker abandons you to help tear down a nearby wall, though you don’t struggle to find where you’re going in the daylight. The last time you’d been here, you might as well have been trekking through the set of a horror movie.

It’s not much prettier than before, but it’s definitely a start.

You’re careful not to get in anyone’s way, what with wooden planks being marched through hallways and sawdust flying in every direction. Most rooms are flush with busybodies tearing away at the diseased parts of the house, and others are storage rooms of material you’re not qualified to touch, but none of them seem to have what you’re looking for. If you tried calling out for him, your voice would barely carry over the bustle.

You really shouldn’t be surprised about where you do find him.

Alfred stands at his side, hands politely tucked behind his back as they examine the ceiling of the ballroom. You hear the butler muttering something that makes Bruce look eager to shut him up. Luckily for him, he spots you then. A smile that had become more commonplace on Bruce’s face is what greets you first, “Well? What do you think?”

You cross the large hall and kick up dust as you go, “Very industrial. What with all the uh... construction.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, “Besides that.”

“It’s got a lot of potential. I can’t imagine what it’ll look like in a few months. Hell, I can’t imagine what it’ll look like when kids are running around in here.”

Alfred smiles, “I can, though a distant memory.”

A lightbulb goes off behind your eyes. “Oh yeah, Dory told me Bruce was a very... active child in here.” At the same time, the light goes out of Bruce’s eyes.

Before Alfred can get any ideas of adding in his two cents, Bruce very unsubtly guides you by the small of your back to another part of the ballroom.

Despite the joy in his features, you couldn’t ignore how tired he’d been looking recently. With his nightly duties and getting the orphanage up and running, you’d found Bruce to be more of a weighted blanket in bed than a partner. You didn’t blame him; you did worry, though.

Your hand naturally finds the curve of his jaw, fingertips brushing where his hair had grown back out again. With Alfred busy training his successor, he hadn’t had the time to trim it out of Bruce’s eyes, but you couldn’t say you were in a hurry for him to get it under control. Sentimental, you were. “It’s amazing, Bruce.”

Your assurance doesn’t penetrate as deeply as you’d hoped. “Wish I’d done it sooner.”

“You needed time to get to a place where you could do it right. Could you imagine trying to get something like this done under Mitchell? Absolutely not.” Bruce looks past you, still not entirely convinced, but you gently guide his gaze back to you, “And you’re not the same Bruce you were before. Everyday, you’re getting better. You’re learning. You can’t rush that.”

A vulnerable look crosses his face. His warm, stubble-ridden cheek leans into your palm searching for more comfort and you gladly give it.

You still can’t quite wrap your head around where the two of you have ended up. Watching Gotham shift alongside the man responsible for so much of its metamorphosis often felt more like fiction than fact. More than that, though: it felt hopeful. While you didn’t imagine Gotham would ever be “perfect”, its baby steps were a welcome change. “You’re doing a good job, Mr. Wayne. Your parents would be very proud of you.”

Bruce shuts his eyes, “Thanks.”

“I’m very proud of you.”

Bruce’s eyes reopen just a smidge, hooded eyelids revealing only blue half-moons, and he turns his cheek just far enough to press a tender kiss to your palm. Another way of saying thank you.

“By the way, what was Alfred saying to you before I came in? You looked kinda peeved.”

Bruce groans, pulling you closer by the hand until your elbow rested on his shoulder, “He kept insisting we invest in a ballroom for the tower.”

“Whatever for?”

“Something about... how I should’ve kept up with my dance lessons as a kid. He’s convinced I could’ve been a dancer in another life.”

A silly grin breaks out on your face. “You’re still a good dancer. I recall us dancing on my kitchen counter, on the kitchen floor, in my childhood bedroom-”

Bruce pulls you all of the way into him to shut you up with a kiss, indignant as he was, though Alfred was too far away to have even heard any of that. Out of curiosity, you peek open an eye to look in the old man’s direction.

You’re met with his usual, knowing smile. Perhaps it’s best you don’t ask.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #the batman #battinson x reader #mjwrites #this is also absolutely named after the song that plays during edward and bella's honeymoon in breaking dawn

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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

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A/n: I'm low-key terrified because I never wrote anything like this before... 🥺 so I hope it doesn't suck? Thanks for the request @hommoturttle I hope its ok!

Summary: just sex. And breeding kink. SMUT 1.6K

Warnings: smut, some dirty talk, the tiniest bit of degradation, breeding kink obvi and some possessive Bucky. 18+ please!! (also idk about you but this gif does ✨things✨ to me - like.. Mr Barnes, stick whatever you want wherever you wantksksksk ok I'm done 🥲)

It would happen after a mission that you went on without him. No matter how used he is to going away and putting himself in danger, his brain refuses to accept that that's your job too. He gets crazy worried, sweats through most of the nights that you're not there to sleep on his chest, snaps at everyone that tells him to calm down, and counts the days until you're back. He's usually able to stand the distance, but not in these scenarios. He always ends up missing you like you've been gone for months, but the way the night you're back unfolds, makes up for everything.

No amount of cuddling, sweet nothings or showers together could possibly make up for the time away like the frantic rounds of sex you always go through as soon as you get back do. And it's always the same, he's on top of you, hovering above your body as his eyes never leave your frame. He wants to see every detail, every inch of your face, every feature that he loves so much.

It starts crazy and it ends even more so. Foreplay is long forgotten, everything you get is him throwing you on the bed and ripping every piece of clothing that stands in his way. And it's more than enough, the pure need and hunger in his manic blue eyes, has the power to drive you insane in record time.

You're a squirming, wet and needy mess by the time he has you naked on his bed, hands clawing up to him. "Come on, Bucky, I need you"

And it drives him up the walls too. He hates the belt that slows him down, and his shirts never make it out intact.

Biting down hard on his lower lip as his need gets the best of him, Bucky's breathing passes the threshold of obscene, his buffed chest heaving as he can't help himself.

"Come here, doll" he finally rasps, his voice low and grave as his jeans fall to the floor.

In a moment, he's on top of you, his legs lodged in between yours. Every touch is amplified by the wait and the feeling of his rough hands on your waist is mind-blowing. You squirm under his touch, trying to wiggle your way closer to him.

"Missed me too, huh?" Bucky grins proudly, gently but sternly grabbing your chin. His thumb rubs along your jawline, his teeth showing as he can't hide his enthusiasm.

"Yes-" you breathe out, melting under his touch. "Missed you so much, Buck."

"Need me?" he keeps teasing, lowering himself so that his lips reach the side of your neck. At first, it's his hot breath that you allow yourself to get drunk on, but when his teeth lewdly sink into your skin, you yelp, your thighs involuntarily closing around his hips.

And you can tell he takes pride in the responses he gets from you. You're sure he feels the goosebumps up your arms, or the way your rib cage shakes with every breath you take. But he keeps going, his greedy hands exploring your naked body, taking your breasts into his palms as he keeps on sucking claim marks into your neck.

"Fuck, Bucky-" you moan, back arching. His lips and his fingers are already too much for you to take, but when the tip of his cock brushes against your thigh, you're all but done.

"Tell me you need me, doll" he hums, pushing himself up on his left arm. The mattress dips under the weight of his metal hand, and as you look between your bodies, your eyes land on the way he's eagerly fisting his cock in his right hand. You're caged in his hold, and it's the only thing you want.

"You're all I need, Bucky" you cry, your hands softly roaming up his chest. His hair had fallen around his face, framing his features and offering them the required amount of shadow needed to accentuate his carnal desire. Bottom lip wet and lodged between his teeth, he watches you closely, waiting for more.

"Bucky, please-" you continue, uselessly shaking your hips from side to side. "I'm already so wet, I'm such a mess for you sometimes. Just use me, do whatever you want with me, I just need to feel you, Bucky. Deep inside me, please"

He shakes his head in disbelief, hints of bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Such a needy, little thing" he muttered to himself.

With your mind clouded and busy enjoying the build-up, when the tip of his cock connectes to your folds, your eyes snap wide. Your reaction brings a proud grin to Bucky’s lips, but this is just the beginning.

Giving you no time to adjust whatsoever, he slams himself into you, bottoming out as you feel your breath cut short. "Fuck, fuck-" you pant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

"Be good for me, doll, ok?" Bucky groans against your ear. His body is right on top of yours, fully rocking you against the mattress with every deep and powerful thrust of his hips. "You need to take all of me"

You can feel him up into your chest, your pleasure materializing in the form of tears, coating your eyes for just a short second before running down your temples.

"Buck-" you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby" he grunts, holding onto your shoulders as he shoves himself deeper. "Deep inside your belly, yeah? Gonna feel me for days"

And you're not that close yet, your brain isn't yet drowning in hormones, so you can think straight, you can form a decent answer - but you refuse to. You just squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, sucking the pleasure his cock forced into your body. Every vein is palpable, your walls closing in around him as if his size isn't already a tad bit more than you'd normally find comfortable. But you love it, he's there, as close as he can get, consuming himself right there with you.

"Fuck-" Bucky grunts, his metal fingers wrapping around the roots of your hair. It's unwashed - a weeks worth of sweat embedded into its fibers but he doesn't care. He only sees you. "I missed you so fucking bad, doll-"

"I'm here, baby-" you coo, your words shaky and barely audible.

You don't know if he heard you, or if he even processed your sentence, he's too caught up.

"You're mine - you're here with me, only mine-" he adds, fervently sucking away at the skin of your neck. "My baby, my angel, mine-" he grunts, emphasising his last word with the help of a ravaging thrust that shakes you to your core.

You cry out, his name burning your throat as you feel him ripping your insides apart.

"Bucky- Buck- I-"

"So sweet-" he cuts you off, moving his head to the other side of your neck. "And only fucking mine. Say it-" he demands.

"I'm-" you gasp, "I'm yours, only yours"

"All mine"

You faintly nod along, vision blurry as you start to lose yourself.

"Say it!" Bucky adds.

"I'm all yours"

"Say it again"

"I'm... all- all yours, Bucky" you manage to mutter before a pleasure filled whine erupts from your throat. "I'm getting close… Bucky, I can't-"

"Easy now-" he moans, slowing down his pace. He comes face to face with you, his damp lips sloppily pressing against yours. He's still balls deep inside your cunt, making the gentle movement of his hips almost unbearable.

Eventually, he slowly tilts your head to the side, burying his face into your hair as he whispers against your ear, "I'm gonna pump you full, yeah? Gonna fill this sweet cunt with my cum, and you, like the good little slut you are, are not gonna let any of it go waste, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Gonna use that pretty cunt of yours to milk my cock dry, yeah?"

You whimper and nodd, frantically trying to get him to pick up his pace. But he isn't having it. When he finally pulls out at that agonisingly slow pace, he captures your lips into another kiss as he slams himself back in.

"Come on, Bucky, fill me up" you cried, involuntarily pulling breaking the kiss, "I wanna feel you inside me"

"Oh, you're gonna feel me inside you alright" he taunted, repeating his movements and pulling all the way out before forcing himself all the way back in. "A little bit of me inside you-" he growls and thrusts again, deeper and harder, "Growing inside you-"

"Holy- fuck!" you screamed, throwing your head back.

"Mine forever, doll-" Bucky grunts, both of you dangerously close the edge, "Yeah?"

"Mhm-" you hum, whiny and all teary eyed with your lips gathered between your teeth.

And then you're all but done - legs tightly wrapped around his middle - every muscle of your body clenching uncontrollably as a spiral of pleasure engulfs your body. And Bucky isn't far behind, your name being the only thing on his lips as he shoots his load deep inside your pussy - careless and irregular, a few last thrusts until he crashes down on top of you.

Although out of breath, as the last waves of your orgasm propagate along your body, you still cling to him. Bucky's face is hidden against your shoulder as he struggles to come down from his high, none of you willing to move even an inch.

"I'm never pulling out" he jokes, and it takes all the energy you have left inside your body to chuckle along.

"Wouldn't ask you to" you laugh, "But you're crushing me so-"

With a grunt, but still with impeccable ease, Bucky wraps his arms around your middle and spins the two of you around, until he's laying on his back with you against his chest.

"There-" he shrugs placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Problem solved"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years ago

Note

27 and 28 with college!Peter please? 🥺🥺

Here you are darling I hope you enjoy! Reminder that I am accepting requests until the end of summer so please keep sending them in!

On the Run

27 - Running from the police after a party gets busted

28 - Falling asleep during a long drive home

Pairing: College! Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You and Peter run from the cops

Summer of Love

Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Music thudded through the house, vibrating the walls and drowning out almost all other sound.. They’d had to drive nearly an hour out of the city for someone’s birthday, and had to park nearly a mile away from the actual house. Had it not been for (y/n)’s enthusiasm about the event he never would have gone. The same could be said about nearly any party the couple attended though. Peter was always much happier to spend the night at home, cuddled up on the couch together. But his girlfriend was much more of a social butterfly than him, and really he was happy to attend anything at her side.

“Let’s dance,” she tugged his arm towards the middle of the large living room.

Peter chuckled, setting his hands on her hips as she walked him to the floor, “You know I can’t dance.”

“I’ll teach you,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Just sway a little P, it’s not that hard.”

“I’m not that coordinated.”

She burst into a fit of laughter instantly, “Shut up you are by far the most coordinated person here, Spiderman.”

“That’s different,” he rolled his eyes, “I can’t dance.”

“Not really,” she agreed, “That’s okay, you’ve got plenty of other athletic abilities,” she poked his chest, giving him a wink before she spun back around.

Peter laughed, holding her waist while she danced against him, smiling at the happy look on her face. It was easy for them to get caught up in each other, forget that they were at a party, that the rest of the world even existed. Lucky for them, Peter had a sixth sense to pull him back to the real world.

“Hey, I think maybe we should get going,” he squeezed her waist.

She frowned at him, “Why? We don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

“I know, but I’ve just got a feeling we should go,” he insisted, just as red and blue lights became visible in the windows.

“Shit,” she groaned, “We can sneak out the back.”

He nodded, pushing her in front of him as they weaved through the crowd. The backyard was emptying out quickly as most people had begun to crowd the front door.

“Nobody leave!” a voice shouted from the front door, causing both of them to turn and see who it was.

“Come on,” (y/n) tugged Peter along, “We’re gonna get held up for hours, let’s just hop the fence.”

“Yeah, you’re right, come on,” Peter continued to wiggle them through the crowd, finally entering the backyard, “Here, I’ll help you over.”

“Such a gentleman,” she giggled as he grabbed her waist, helping lift her over the fence, “Oh shit,” she swore as she hit the ground.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he lifted himself up over the fence as quickly as he could, only to be met with the same problem, “Shit.”

“What are you kids up to?” one of the officers smirked.

“We were just trying to get home,” (y/n) tried to explain, “We didn’t want to get held up in there all night.”

“Alright,” the second officer sighed, “Let me see your ID’s.”

Peter handed his over but (y/n) could only blushed, “I left mine in our car.”

The officer hummed, “I can’t let you go without ID.”

She groaned, “Fine, fine, we can go run and get it or-”

“No, I need to see it now,” the officer insisted, “Otherwise I’ll have to take you in until I can verify your identity.”

“Take her in?” Peter went wide eyed, “Like to jail?”

“To the police station,” he corrected, “So if you don’t have your idea I’ll have to ju-”

“Run!” (y/n) had grabbed Peter’s hand and started running, causing Peter to go wide eyed and stumble over his feet.

“Are you insane?!” Peter snapped, looking over his shoulder to see if they were being followed.

“You’re a superhero, you should be able to outrun the police!” she snapped back.

“I can, but...” he glanced over his shoulder again before rolling his eyes, “Oh just come on!”

He pulled her towards a park, hoping it’d make it easier to lose them. The cops yelled at them to stop, (y/n) erupted into a fit of giggles while Peter prayed that neither of them got tazed. They stumbled around some bushes and Peter led them towards the playground, where he hid them both behind one of the slides. They peaked around the corner, the cops were still heading there way.

“We should keep running,” (y/n) whispered.

“Just give it a second,” Peter insisted, “I’m sure they don’t want to chase us all around when they have a whole party to bust.”

“I don’t know they kind of seem like dicks,” she mumbled.

“They’re cops, what did you expect?”

“Did you see where they went?” one of the cops asked.

The other shook his head, “No, I saw them running into the playground but that’s it.”

“Do you really wanna spend all this time looking for them?” the first questioned, “We’re gonna be in trouble if we don’t help them bust the party.”

“Yeah yeah,” he sighed, “Let’s head back, this is a waste of time.”

“Thank god,” (y/n) sighed.

“I think we should take a break from parties for a while,” Peter stood, offering her his hand, “Come on, we can cut through the park to get back to the car.”

“Good idea,” her head fell onto his shoulder while they walked, “I don’t know about you but I’m definitely ready for bed.”

“Yeah, me too,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to her head just as a whirring sound overtook the park, “What the...”

(y/n) squealed and clung to Peter, attempting to shield herself from the sprinklers, “Peter!”

“I didn’t turn on the sprinklers!” he laughed and took her hands in his, “Come on, it’s just a little water.”

“It’s freezing,” she shivered, scooting closer to him in an attempt to shield herself from the water.

“I think it feels nice,” he kissed her forehead, a smirk came to his lips as he mocked her words from earlier that night, “Run!”

She burst into laughter again as he pulled her through the park, stumbling as she tried to keep up with him. He didn’t stop until they reached the sidewalk, safely out of reach from the sprinklers. She stopped to catch her breath while he started laughing again, flicking his wet hair out of his face.

“We’ve still got a bit of a walk,” he hummed, “You want my jacket?”

“Thanks, but I don’t think your wet jacket is gonna do much for me.”

“No, but I thought I’d offer,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Well come on, we gotta get you to that nice warm car.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Finally,” (y/n) groaned when she spotted the car, running up to the passenger door excitedly, “Hurry up!”

Peter rolled his eyes as he unlocked the car, “It’s gonna take a minute to get it warmed up.”

“That’s okay,” she hummed as he turned on the car, letting her eyes fall closed as she settled into her seat, “I can’t wait to get home and take a nice warm shower.”

“I doubt you will be awake when we get home.”

“I will be,” she assured, placing her hands against the rapidly warming vents.

“We’ll see,” he hummed, “My money’s on you falling asleep though.”

“I’m staying awake,” she insisted, “So we can take a nice warm shower and cuddle up in bed together.”

“That sounds nice,” Peter squeezed her hand before he pulled into the street, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” she hummed, “Nothing better than snuggling up with my Peter.”

He blushed as he nodded in agreement, “Yeah, nothing better than that.”

Sure enough, fifteen minutes into the ride, she was half asleep, head against the windows and her eyes half closed. Peter chuckled at the sight and set a hand on her leg, causing her eyes to dart to him. She smiled and set her hand over his, squeezing it before returning her eyes to a window. He squeezed her leg and looked back to the road.

Another five minutes passed and it was clear she had fallen asleep. Peter turned down the music and the heater, hoping to keep it quiet so she could sleep for the rest of the drive. She was a light sleeper so he tried to make the drive as smooth as he could, and by some miracle he managed to pull into their parking garage with her still asleep. He picked her up from the passenger seat as gently as he could, but she still began to stir.

“Peter,” she mumbled, only half awake at that point.

“It’s alright, we just got home,” he kissed her forehead with a smile, “You just sleep, I’ll carry you to bed.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, letting her head fall against his chest.

He smiled as he carried her through the halls towards their apartment, kicking open the door as gently as he could, “Do you wanna change for bed?”

She nodded, curling up into a ball as he set her on the bed, “Yeah, let’s just lay down first.”

“Alright sweety,” he chuckled and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her middle, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she mumbled with a yawn, “Thanks for carrying me in Peter.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he kissed her forehead, “Now get some sleep, we might have to run from the cops again tomorrow.”

A tired laugh left her lips, followed by another yawn, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be ready.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @namoreno @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @roseke @andreagf956 @thevery-firstpage @emistrash @tomsirishgirlx @peachyafshawn @agbspidey @spideyspeaches

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babytaes · 3 years ago

Text

afterglow

➳ summary: You, too, lived in a colorless world, trying to connect with it. How long would you have to wait for that one to brighten it up and let you see the real world?

❥ pairing: wonwoo x female reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff, kinda soulmate au.....?

❥ word count: 7k (sorry, mans is my bias and I had to ;)

❥ warning: mentions of death.

➳ part of the song series

↳ Imagine a world like that,

We go like up 'til I'm 'sleep on your chest

Love how my face fits so good in your neck

You had a twin brother who was everything to you. Everything was always you two, from the endless amounts of laughter to the sneaky efforts to take Christmas cookies early in the morning.

With him, everything seems to be so colorful; in your lifetime, everyone was given a companion who may be a friend, sibling, or lover. It was simply something that you treasured. As a result, the alternatives were numerous.

You had no idea how much his life meant to you. He was your second half, and now you'd been split in half, with one gone and the other remaining.

Months passed, and your relationship with him became increasingly dimmer and dimmer. The brilliant hues faded in and out, with black and white patches becoming more prominent.

That awful day, unfortunately, was the last time you saw color. His light had faded from the world, and all that was left was black and white.

With him gone, your entire life seemed pointless, even your day-to-day existence. No splash of color to brighten things up.

“Y/N, I'll never forget you, big sister. Thank you for the enjoyable and considerate memories, and don't let this stunt your growth, please do that for me. As the beeper went off, he began to cough incessantly.

“Helpppp anyone.” As your parents draw you back into their arms, you hear many doctors rush into the room.

There was nothing they could do; his hue had vanished from this world. When you opened your tear-streaked eyes and examined your hands, you noticed that the formerly vivid cream palms had turned gray.

As if all colors were abruptly bleached out of the world, revealing a universe of whiteness—the rainbow, flowers, trees, and art, everything freshly bleached and pearled. The last vestige of color had vanished from your life, and you had been broken since then, heartbroken over the loss of your dearest friend.

“Y/n, hey you're good, we could use your help.” As you glanced to the side, you noticed that one of your employees had just spilled some water from the mop bucket.

As you approach their side, you assist them in mopping up the mess while sweeping aimlessly across the floor, making sure to get every spot. Due to your new life of no color it reflected on your life emotionally.

As the days passed, you became increasingly depressed and unmotivated. There wasn't a single day when you didn't feel mopey or lonely. It wasn't like anyone could help me; it was just the challenge of living a life without color.

Although you sincerely desired to overcome this phase of your life and simply find the right person to fill that void, life did not work in your favor at the time. Everyone around you seemed to be looking for or had already found their "person."

All you wanted was to find the person who could restore your hope and love, which had been taken away when your brother died. Your parents did everything they could to assist you, including setting you up on strange and ineffective dates that just added to your unhappiness.

Nobody could replace that color that your brother provided for you, or maybe someone could?

"I'm off," you remarked as you pulled off your apron and clocked out in the back. As you stepped out the door, you heard a flurry of goodbyes before closing it behind you.

The world never shifted when the clock struck five.

As you strolled down the crowded streets, the sky before and above you remained grey, never letting up that cloak of shade. A melodious music gradually pours into your ears as you go down the bustling sidewalk.

You follow the dazzling yet tranquil sound of the guitar aimlessly as you imagine music notes flying through the fall air. You cautiously open your tired eyes and spot the crowd to figure out where these tunes are coming from.

Looking up, you spotted a swarm encircling a male, but you couldn't tell who it was. However, it was the music that drew you in; you'd heard that melody before. Even if you weren't musically inclined, you could hear that tune anywhere.

It was his, the one he wrote for you.

You dashed outside to see your brother strumming a tune on the grass with his guitar. Your brother possessed a talent for music. It is a condition that many people are born with, and you were fortunate that your brother was one of them.

He didn't go a day without making up or humming something he'd learned. It was frustrating to hear it every day, but it was still lovely to witness his enthusiasm for it.

“Hey, what are you cooking up this time?” As he began to strum the guitar, he turned around and grinned at you. You couldn't understand what he was mumbling, but it sounded lovely as his fingers casually slid across the strings.

“I don't have the lyrics yet, but I'm sure they'll come. You laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“Just don’t go play at 3 in the morning. Okay?”

“It's not my fault that's typically when the inspiration comes,” he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

As you raced away from him, you swiftly took his guitar, saying, "Well, I guess that inspiration will have to wait." He leapt from his seat and dashed towards you, yelling your name.

You had no idea that would be his final song; you regret not listening to the finished product; you never knew if he finished it. However, when you got closer to the enticing sound, you observed a young man strumming a guitar, and your ears perked up.

A slender man with long fingers and a quirky side smile, perhaps a musician, delicately touched a golden acoustic guitar, playing her ever so elegantly. You stand there, enthralled by the song, as his hands strum and tug the steel strings of the guitar. You take a cautious step closer to him in order to get a better look.

Allowing the music to take control of your body, you take a deep breath and allow an ounce of hope to creep in. From miles away, the formerly lovely and alive girl could be seen racing to you as you opened your arms to her.

You tried desperately to reach her before she vanished into thin air. The glint had disappeared. As you slowly open your eyes, you notice the man stop playing and gazes up at the audience.

As a smile crept across your face, the edges of your lips began to curl up. You'd forgotten what a smile looked like; you hadn't seen one in a long time, and it just felt natural. Even though he was gone, you could sense his presence. As you began to back away from the mob, tears began to flow freely from your eyes.

As you faded from his view and moved away from the crowd, the boy cast a peek at you. You swear you saw a glimpse of color rushing through your orbs, even if it was just for a split second. You couldn't tell if this was a joke or a new experience for you because you were more terrified than excited.

Could you trust that vision? Would they leave your life like he once did or would they stay? (IT)

Although you wanted to stay and figure it out you had somewhere to be and you didn’t want anyone to waste that special time.

(1 hour later)

Opening the rusted gate and looking at the wrought iron fences sends shivers down your spine as you are whisked back to that tragic day.

As you headed towards the pit, a crack formed in your heart. As they lowered his casket into the black abyss, the steady steps of feet carried it there. Countless shadowy figures form a procession, speaking in unison to pay their respects to the one you cherish. Your inner essence is corrupted by despair, and your heart bleeds like a river inside. Nothing could ever make you feel better.

As they began to fill the hole with dirt, tears welled up in your eyes, prompting you to lower your head. He didn't want you to be sad; he knew his time was coming to an end, yet he felt so safe in his final days.

He wasn't going to abandon you; he'd promised you that he'd left you something to aid you along the path. Even if that were the case, you never discovered it after four years. You rummaged through his room and tore it apart.

You quickly recognized that he was either joking or that the drug had taken effect in his brain and he was talking gibberish. In any case, you made a pledge to visit his grave every day from that day forward to keep him company and to keep yourself sane.

---

Clutching onto your bag, the leaves crunched beneath your feet as you peered about. You see specks of people strewn throughout the cemetery as you hear some speak in low whispers. It didn't take you long to find his gravestone.

You noticed the dead flowers drooping over as you took them out of their vase beside the tomb. Replacing them always brought joy to your heart as the sight of a fresh bouquet of flowers brightened the somber ambiance, which contrasted with the mold-infested tomb.

Taking out your cleaning supplies and speaker, you start working on his tomb while listening to his favorite music. As you hummed along with the song, your soft-bristle brush softly scrubbed the headstone in an orbital motion from bottom to top, carefully avoiding the fissures.

As you finished the soap, you began to rinse the stone as dirt and debris began to fall off the tomb. Although you couldn't determine if everything was off, you could plainly see the phrases and symbols, which was a good hint to stop cleaning everything off.

You wanted to do more for him and not leave any dirt on the surface. But because everything was gray, you couldn't tell, which made you sulk as you put down your brush. As you check the clock on your phone, you exhale a sigh of relief.

7:23p.m

Looking around, you noticed the stragglers had dispersed, leaving you alone as you gazed up at the sky.

“I hope the sunset looks beautiful today, I do miss it.”

The late evening sunset was the one thing you missed more than your brother; you had always admired how everything just flowed and fit together in the evening sky. It's almost as if someone began painting and simply let their hand float through the air.

As you turned to face his tomb, another smile appeared on your face, prompting you to go into your bag for something. As you placed down a cup for you and him, you chuckled at the bottle revealed beneath the sky.

“Lucas, here's to another day. It's been difficult in recent years, but today was a good day. I sensed your presence through the music of some random person; it was strange, but I'm glad I was there to see it. So thank you,” you say, raising your shot glass in the air and taking a sip.

As you heard a voice, you wiped a stray tear from your face.

“I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Shit, what the hell,” you cursed the dark figure, startled and terrified. Who is there? As you squint your eyes at him, a male emerges from the shadows.

It's him.

----

You cough as you stand up and face the nameless man, he extends his hand as his glasses slide down his narrow nose, “Hi I’m Wonwoo.”

You take his hand in yours and shake it slowly, his grip firm until you let go.

“Hi..wonwoo? “I'm Y/n.” As the boy grinned at you, your voice was barely audible.

He takes a careful step alongside you and sits down close to your brother's grave, placing a case beside him. As you enlarged your eyes and sat down next to him, still observing him, the atmosphere felt reassuring but strange.

“I apologize for startling you; I didn't know that you were there. I’m not sure if your brother mentioned me but I was his friend, we used to write songs together.” As he turned to face you, you noticed the tall man attempting to cross his legs.

You shook your head as you began to gather your belongings, unsure of who this man was. For all you knew, he may be lying to you, so you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You rose up and began walking away after securing the zipper on your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. I can come back another time. I am truly sorry if I interrupted anything."

“No, it's fine,” you say with a shake of your head and outstretched hands.

“Are you sure?”

You walk away again, nodding your head as you hear his voice and a familiar tune.

You came to a halt in your tracks as you slowly turned around to face the boy after hearing a faint melody. As your ears perked up, you heard a low voice.

‘I stand still before you before me. I’m okay, not okay..” The lyrics faded out as you started to find your bearings again as you made your way out of the cemetery. As you stepped toward the road, you strapped your bag on, making sure you had everything you needed.

A girl out on a walk is something you can see every day, yet you were unique. You walked as if you and the road had reached an agreement, as if the concrete was more than eager to support your feet.

The road understood you.

*Ping*

The light of your phone lit up as you clicked on the message.

Mom: Hey sweetie, I dropped off some food at your apartment and did some tidying up. Get home safety.

You: Thanks mom.

Her message brought back memories of days when you and her would cook together and simply bond over the end result. You missed it. Because you live in different places, you don't get to see your parents very frequently, yet they always made time for you.

I wish you could do the same; home is just too much for you to stomach, and you'd rather avoid it.

You reach the corner street after a few more steps, ready to begin your one-mile trek home. As you look back after exhaling a sigh, you hear rumbling on your feet. An automobile approached you, its bright headlights blazing directly at you.

You shifted to the side, squinting your eyes at the sight, and wonwoo greeted you again before you realized it. He grinned at you with his dazzling whites as he bent his head down.

what is with this guy?

Hey, hop in, I'll give you a ride. It's becoming late, and I don't want you walking through here.” As you took a step back, wary of the stranger, he moved his hand closer to you.

“Um.. No-no I’m okay. However, thank you.” As you heard his engine trailing behind you, you began to walk faster. He followed you for a few seconds longer before you came to a complete halt and stared at him.

Through the windshield, you could see him smirk as he waved his hand to you.

“It'll be a lot faster, and if you're worried I'll kidnap you or anything, don't fret. I'm allergic to cats, and I'm a cat person myself. As a result, I assure you that I will not harm you. I just wanted to help a friend.” You moved over to his car, smiled a little, and hopped in, securing yourself with your seatbelt.

“If you do anything I have some bleach and I’m not afraid to use it,” he chuckled at you as he started the car and proceeded to exit the cemetery.

“You’re funny.”

As you gave wonwoo your address he proceeded to drive out of the rural neighborhood as you put your head on the window. You didn't realize it at the time, but you could feel his penetrating glances.

The car was quiet as the low sounds of music vibrated through the car. When you weren't driving, car journeys were the best since they enabled your mind to fantasize and paint over the enormous landscape you were seeing. That haven you built in your imagination calms you and makes you feel protected. The place where you may get away from reality.

As soon as your eyes close for the night, you hear him humming a familiar tune. Rather than remaining silent, you begin a conversation with him, inquiring as to how he learned the song.

“So how did you meet Lucas?” As he laughed, he cast a peek at you.

“Well, I met him at a college party a long time ago and discovered he makes music, so we used to meet up at a friend's studio and just create.” You lightly chuckled as a tear fell down your face as you nodded your head.

It was good to hear other people talk about your other half; it was almost as if he was there with you right now.

You were worried when he gave you brief glances since his eyes were off the road, but as he spoke, you felt protected because he spoke highly of your brother.

“Well, I'm not sure if he mentioned you, but the last song we were working on was one he wrote for you, and he said it was a gift.” As you turned to face him after hearing that final statement, your eyes widened.

“He—he said those exact words, a gift?”

As he rounded the corner and approached your apartment complex building, he shook his head. You could see his shoulder resting on the window sill as he put the car in park.

You hesitantly walk out of the car, stuttering as you gather your belongings, and turn to face him.

“Thank you for the ride; did Lucas mention anything else about the song?” “He wasn't quite finished with it, but he did give me and my other friend some crucial stuff to get it done,” he said as you pressed your face closer to the window.

Your heart began to race as you realized that things were beginning to turn around for you; perhaps this wonwoo boy was destined to be in your life. Lucas' way of demonstrating that he took great care of you.

“Would you like to work on it together sometime?”

Inside, it felt as if the creatures were finally waking up from their rehabilitation and making their way into the real world. Even if it took a while, this new form of relief made you feel alive again. You were adamant about working more to reclaim your color.

In some way, wonwoo was the key to it all.

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” you answered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you handed him your phone. “Just let me know when you're free.”

Wonwoo returned your phone to you, which you joyfully accepted and placed in your pocket. As you walked to your door, you waved your hand at him and cried out to him one final time.

“Thank you”

“For what?” As you entered the flat and locked the door behind you, you waved your hand at him. You let out a sigh and shake your head as you slid down to the floor.

“What a day”

---

(4 weeks later)

It seemed like you and wonwoo had entered a very unique connection in the last few weeks. He made every effort not to cross any boundaries, both physically and emotionally. Regardless of the fact that you were his closest friend's sister, he was always respectful to you.

Even if that is what he sees from his perspective, you felt more alive when you were with him. Although you could still see gray and couldn't bask in all of his glory, it gave you hope that one day, whenever that time came, you'd be able to see him and everything else.

That was something you lacked previously: hope. Everyone around you including your parents could see a significant change in your life.

“Hey, honey, how's it going at work?” Before taking your purse, your mother kissed your cheek and opened the door for you.

As you met her at your old house, a smile emerged on your face. It was your first visit home in a while, and seeing you there brought joy to their hearts, despite the difficult years you've had.

“Everything has been going well, and I just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. I miss seeing you and dad.”

“Is that my beautiful daughter, am I seeing things right?” your father exclaimed as he emerged from the back. As a tear trickled down your cheek, you watched as he raced over to you and hugged you.

As he stared at your face and admired it, the hue in front of you remained gray.

“Such lovely brown eyes," It pained your soul that you couldn't remember what they looked like since gray dulled everything and made you forget.

“Thank you, dad, but instead of fawning me, let's play some games. Just because life is bleak doesn't mean I can't be your ass at Monopoly.”

Your mother, gasping at your remark, watched from the back, her eyes welling up with tears as she marveled at a sight she hadn't seen in a long time.

“Moooom, don't start sobbing or dad will start crying,” you said as you turned around.

She comes over to your side and wraps you and your father in a hug, sandwiching you between them. It felt good because you were missing these times with your folks. You couldn't stay at home when your brother died; you had to leave and get away. Everything was just too much for you as things started to remind you of him.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I'm really proud of you for coming here and having the confidence to do so. I understand how difficult it must be for you, but thank you.” Through the loud sniffles between you all, you started to feel warm as you wiped your tears.

“All right, no more crying; let's get down to business.” You dashed over to the couch and snatched up Monopoly from the board game box, motioning for them to join you. They chuckled as you began to pull everything out as they made their way over.

As loud yells and laughter echoed out throughout the home, the night was fresh and enjoyable. There were times when you were terrified you'd lose, but you couldn't let your champion status lapse.

Your mother said, "Noo, you're cheating."

“No, I'm not; there's a house there, and you need to pay up or I'll put you in jail.” Between the two, your father snickers and keeps his mouth shut. He was well aware of the rules.

“All right, but that wasn't there before.”

With a chuckle, you shook your head and held out your hand, saying, "excuses excuses."

As you turned off your alarm, it rang at 8:00 p.m. You wouldn't have realized the difference between night and day if it hadn't been for alarm clocks. You jumped up in triumph after placing one more piece on the board.

“And that's why I remain Monopoly's ruler.”

You witnessed your parents give up as they lifted their hands in surrender. They both remark, "Fine, you win," as they begin to clean up the mess. Taking the stray cups and bowls from the tables you set them in the sink as you turned to watch your parents.

It's been a long time since you've been back here, and you've certainly missed the atmosphere. Lucas wouldn't want me to miss out on this opportunity.

“Why don't I come on weekends and bring back board game nights?” As your parents turned back, you uttered, "Next time, I'll bring a friend."

“Oh, it would be wonderful; the more the better.”

As you walked back over to them, you hugged them as they kissed your head.

“You go, we'll take care of this; the drive back is long,” your father remarked as he took your bag and handed it to you.

“Thank you guys, and I love you and the night we just had.” As you approached the door, you waved goodbye before closing it.

“No thank you, love,” your mother said as she and your father watched you leave the home and get into your car.

After one last look at the house, you back out of the driveway and go down the street, looking forward to the day ahead.

Studio day!

You yawn as your body startles you up after taking a deep breath of fresh air. As you slowly open your eyes and look out the window, you breathe a sigh of relief. Something felt different. The chirping of the birds outside made you feel cheerful, not sad.

As your vision remained a little lighter, you began to blink your eyes faster. It wasn't your typical gray morning, and you thought it was growing lighter. The gray was gradually dissipating. You grinned as you considered your color returning.

What prompted this?

It didn't matter because today was dedicated to finishing your song; you, wonwoo, and his friend Mingyu had completed all but the title. You stretch one more time before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you get to the mirror, you take a look at yourself. The person in front of you had radically transformed; she had forgotten about her flaws and insecurities, and her heart now held more love. This woman didn't pick apart everything that was wrong with her; instead, she supported herself.

She was unrecognizable, and the old girl in the mirror was finally slipping away. You began to smile more frequently and laugh a little more, and the air around you became warmer rather than frigid. Someone's love had seeped into her heart and begun to unfreeze its hardness.

And that person was wonwoo, which you didn't realize until you looked in the mirror. If you've observed it, chances are that others have as well. And you were grateful for his help in getting you out of that gloomy situation. You were able to regain your trust and begin letting people in again, which made you pleased.

Lucas would be incredibly proud of you, and you didn't want to disappoint him again. You intended to honor his memory and keep him alive in your heart, rather than allowing the past to plague you and prevent you from living your life.

He would have wanted that.

As you stepped inside, you turned on the shower and stripped off your clothing. You had to find a method to repay wonwoo for his compassion. You would not have gotten this far without him and his musical gift, and you were grateful for him.

"I could take him to our place," you offer as you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shower.

“Yeah he would like that.”

----

Work seemed to fly by as your mind raced at a hundred miles per hour. You had everything planned out and had recruited the support of your parents to help you set up.

Your manager tapped your shoulder and asked, "Hey y/n, you okay?" As you dropped the pencil, you flinched.

“Oh sorry, just spacing out.” He shook his head as he spoke out, “For the rest of your shift you can take off if you want, we’re going to close earlier than usual. If you're leaving, clean out the coffee machine and be on your way.”

You enlarged your eyes as your jaw dropped, and you raced into his arms, squeezing him tightly. Your boss chuckled awkwardly as he gently pushed you away from him. For some reason, everything seemed to be working in your favor today. As you rush to get ready, you begin working on the machine, your smile never leaving your face.

You sped to the back room, clocking out and placing your apron into your locker, as you were done in no time. As you walked to the front, you waved goodbye to your manager before heading to your car in the parking area.

“What's the matter with her? That's the first time I've ever seen her that happy. Hmm”

And with that you were on your way to your parents house as you sent a quick text to wonwoo. As you grinned as you placed your phone in the dash holder, you came to a stop light.

You: Hey cancel today's session, I have a place to go to. It may also provide us with better title recommendations. You down??

Wonwoo:) Yes, that sounds excellent; the studio can become claustrophobic. Send me the address and a time frame for my arrival.

You: *address name*. Bring your guitar and meet there in 2 hours.

Wonwoo:) Oh okay. Can’t wait to see you there!

(read 5:45 p.m.)

Even though you weren’t nervous you wanted everything to be special, wonwoo deserved it for all that he has done for you in the past weeks.

You let yourself go as you blast songs down the road, pressing play on your playlist. You didn't notice it at first, but the color was gently sneaking in as you drove around. As creams and beige colors drifted in and out, the outsides of your eyes began to lift.

As you turned off the headlights and opened the door, it didn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. You smiled as you got your belongings from the car and made your way up the hill, finding your parents already set up.

You drop your belongings on the blanket and walk up to hug them, saying, "Hey guys." As they begin to chat with you, they embrace you in a friendly hug.

“So we set up all of the essential elements, such as lighting, a seating area, and refreshments in the cooler and basket.” As she began to indicate the various components, your mother explained. As she brought you around the hill to the tree, she took your hand in hers.

“You remember when you and Lucas did this?” You laugh as you remember that day as you place your palm on the antique carving.

-- “Noo I'd like to go first; you always go first.” You sighed as Lucas took up the knife and began carving his name into the tree.

“You better not cry and tell mom,” he remarked, turning to face you and seeing your glum demeanor. As you passed past him, you stood up straighter, rolling your eyes at him and snatching the knife from his grip.

“I'm not a baby like you,” you say. As he huffed and hurried toward mom, you heard him scoff.

“Mommmm y/n referring to me as a baby. And I'm not one of them. You stood there watching as he stomped his foot and landed on Mom's lap. Your father chuckles, rubbing his back and shaking his head at his wife.

As you return to the blanket, you cross your arms and say, "Well, then, quit acting like one."

That erupted in an outburst as he started to whine on mommy lap.

He did, in fact, act like a baby. Wiping a tear from your eyes as you chuckle, you hold your mother closer as you kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey we have an hour left before wonwoo get here, I'm going to head to the house to clean up. If he arrives early, keep him entertained.” As she watches you descend the hill, your mother shakes her head.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you put your foot down on the accelerator and drive over to your parents' house.

(45 minutes later)

Wonwoo approaches the destination, looking out the windshield as he spots some lights on the hill. As he steps out of the automobile, he notices two people moving around. He smiles as he collects his guitar from the rear and walks up the hill, noting the serene atmosphere.

“Those should go over by the tree and make sure they don't fall.” Wonwoo enters the place, his eyes widening. Fluorescent bulbs fanned out along the tops of the trees, each with a different picture on it, surrounding him.

As he looks down, he notices a blanket with a speaker playing music and the champagne.

Your parents finally turn around, gasping, when your mother rushes over to welcome him, saying, "Forgive us, we didn't hear anything, you must be wonwoo." That's y/n father over there, and I'm y/n mother.” As she introduces you to your father, she smiles and gives you a motherly look.

On this magnificent evening, only a few minutes had passed when you approached the hill once more. You take a brief glance in the mirror before applying some Chapstick. Rubbing it in you open the door as you look up on the hill, you hear conversations as you panic up the hill.

“So this is y/n, she was quite the messy twin when she was a baby-”

“What are you doing, Mom?” You walk over to her, ashamed, and place yourself between you and wonwoo, speaking quietly to her.

“I said to entertain him not embarrass me.”

“Oh, you're overthinking things; did you know he's friends with Lucas?” You chuckle as you grab your father and mother and begin bickering as you force them out of the location. As they descend the slope, they wave goodbye to you and wonwoo.

Taking one look at him, you notice his amusing state; he was cheesing so hard that his rosy cheeks were visible.

“Sorry about them.”

“It's fine; all parents do it.” They simply adore you.” You cross your legs and shake your head as you sit on the blanket, passing him a wine cup.

“To another wonderful day and a wonderful friendship.” Wonwoo takes out the champagne from the cooler as he opens it and sprays the excess in front of you.

“Ahh, you're spilling it” As you giggle at his action, the extra juice pours on your face. You reach for a napkin to wipe the wetness off your face as he takes one in front of you.

“Here, let me take care of it.” He leans in closer as he wipes the liquid from your face before resuming his seat. As your stomach begins to become a #1 gymnast, that simple action sends you spiraling.

“Th-thanks”

He smiles as he pours you a drink for both of you, and as he does so, you grab his guitar box and pry it open, admiring the golden beauty inside. Picking it up, you begin strumming a few chords of the nameless song while moving your head to the beat.

“Wow, you're actually pretty good.”

“I did have a good teacher, Lucas taught me a few things, but I only recall a few chords, so it may become irritating after a while.”

Wonwoo hands you the glass as you take it in your hand, and as you take a sip of the bubbly drink, you hand him the guitar.

As you take another sip, your spirits lift as you stare out at the scenery in front of you. You hear wonwoo begin to play the tune while you stare off towards the colorless world.

“Ruinous imagination consumes me. Makes me dream sweeter dreams, I close my eyes but thoughts of you. Bring noisy night, to you & me, real and dreamy.”

You sway back and forth as his voice soothes your body, his palm brushing over the guitar while his eyelids close, taking in the lyrics.

As you look up at him, you say, "Thank you." It's unavoidable, but tears stream down your face with no attempt to wipe them away.

“Th-thank you foreverythingyouhave-“ you say quickly and brokenly.

“Hey hey, calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” he says as he scoots over to you and pats your shoulder. You both laugh as you start over, this time with more poise.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for genuinely improving my life. You probably don't know, but my relationship with Lucas was incredible; we were never apart, and when he passed, I couldn't live without him. I've struck rock bottom a few times and done some unfathomable things that I'm ashamed of, and I'm sincerely grateful that I've survived another day.”

Wonwoo drew you into a hug and caressed your back as he ceased patting your shoulder. As you sob into his shoulder, the tears begin to flow again.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it seemed like you needed one,” he says as you continue, releasing leave of you.

“To put it simply, you have brought me so much joy and optimism that I am overwhelmed. It's not the same without Lucas, but I'm grateful you entered my life at this point. So thank you; I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

You come to a halt as he looks at you through his round spectacles, and as you become concerned, you begin to look down.

“Sorry if I just spewed all that out.”

“No, it's fine.” I truly appreciate it, and I'm glad I was able to restore a sense of hope in your life. I may not be Lucas, but I will do my best to pay tribute to his memory.

You smile as you feel a wave of self-assurance and an overpowering sensation of bravery wash over you.

When you bring wonwoo closer to you and kiss him on the lips, everything inside of you turns on, and your body begins to feel alive again, exactly like it did before.

“I'm sorry I should have asked you first-“ You release him and lean back as you watch him.

He silenced your words with his lips as his hands wrapped around your neck.

Everything comes rushing back to you in an instant, like a blanket being pulled off of you. As you open your eyes again, you let go of each other. The difference this time is that you can see him.

As he smiled at you, you could see his cheeks flush with scarlet. You can see his silver rings around his slender fingers as his hands slip away from your neck.

You slowly turn around to face the sinking light on the horizon. As if a million scarlet petals have ignited, the sunset blooms on the horizon.

You expected the tears to flow this time as you stood up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. As you stared at the gorgeous view in front of you, you undoubtedly looked a mess.

You collapse to your knees and exclaim, "I can see it!"

Wonwoo approaches you slowly, bending down with you and holding you in his arms.

“See what?”

As you held him again, your snot-filled tear-streaked face turned to his.

“The color has returned, and I can see it now.” As he gasps, he pulls you back.

“Wait, are you serious, what color shirt am I wearing?”

“IT'S GREEN, YOUR SHIRT IS GREEN!!” Wonwoo scoops you up and spins you again in an instant. You lay another kiss on his lips as you chuckle into his lips, unsure of what to do.

The clouds floated into my life, not to bring rain or storms, but to add color to the sunset sky.

He picks up the polaroid camera off the ground and takes a candid shot of you. After he pecked your cheek once more, he smiled as he wanted to remember this special day.

You send wonwoo off to find a knife from the basket as the photo develops. You observe him as he runs around the area like a child, and you smile as the photo develops.

You've probably seen images where the background is blurred and the only thing in focus is the subject of the photograph. That was us. Every other detail became hazy as I concentrated on every facet of him.

You didn't realize how fortunate you were until now; he was the special someone you had wished for eons ago.

Everything felt even better when your color returned, and you knew deep down that everything was going to be well.

It was all because of wonwoo.

Your brother left you a gift, the lovely gift of music, which was seen via wonwoo.

Yes, your brother had been your best friend, and yes, he had left you. But, as you found a great friend, the life he presumably wanted for you had only just begun.

You hoped that with him, you would be able to treasure the love you had just as much as you did while you were together.

“Hey, wonwoo, I have a song title, also follow me.”

As he began heading toward you, he turned around and looked at you. You've both arrived at the same tree that was planted many years ago.

He gives you the knife as you start placing your name under your past self. As he watches you cry, Wonwoo does the same.

*Forever, Y/n, Wonwoo, and Lucas*

As he finishes up, you grab his hand and stroll back to the blanket setup. He takes a seat beside you and wraps his arm over your body.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

“Bittersweet, that's the title,” you said as you turned to face him.

“I love it,” he says as he pulls you closer to him with a nod of his head.

And with that, your brother's memory was carefully preserved, shared, and intended for all to hear.

“Lucas, I'll never forget you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#seventeen #svt #seventeen jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fics #seventeen writer #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #soulmate au #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

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palaceofpassion · 3 years ago

Text

When the Cows Come Home.

Patreon Reward! I suppose I should start adding more non ask stuff cause ya know, everything died!

BRRRR-`

SLAM

Jaune’s hand hit the alarm clock before it even had the chance to really get going, his eyes snapping open and his body jumping straight off the bed. “Good morning!” He rose with a mighty shout, causing the empty home around him to tremble with his mighty yell. A smile slapped across his face as he scurried forward, his body and mind ready for the day to come. A quick dash to the shower, half an hour later, and he was ready to go and hit the day with all his might.

“Ah! Nothing quite like a hot shower in the morning to get ready.” And, as he headed downstairs, his mind ignoring the empty echo of his footsteps. “Time to get started.” Dressed head to toe in denim, boots tightly bound to his feet, and a large hat to block out the sun's rays he knew that today was going to be a good day.

And like every day, this was how Jaune Arc started his mornings, before the sun began to rise he was out and about. Now one may wonder, what was the young Arc doing up so early in the day? Well the answer was simple, he had a responsibility, and he would be darned if he didn’t follow through with it. Even if he was the last remaining Arc holding down the fort he would continue what his ancestors started.

With one quick turn back to his home he allowed himself a small frown, he’d be lying to say he didn’t MISS his family… oh wait no! It wasn't like they were dead or anything. They’d all just wanted something else in their lives, and well his parents wanted to retire and his sisters just moved on. But, as he made his way towards the barn… he realized he’d never be able to leave this place. After all, if he did leave, who would take care of the girls? THUD The doors swung open as he took a step into the lovely stable. “G’morning girls.” And he smiled, brightly as he was met with the pleasant and waiting smiles of three gorgeous heifers.

“Morning Jaune!”

May was just… he shuddered as he eyed the gorgeously tanned heifer, her massive watermelon sized breasts swayed back and forth as she excitedly beckoned him. She’d been so shy when he’d gotten her, and well look at her now! He couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Good Morning.”

Ciel was something else indeed, massive swells jiggled freely as she tried to hide her enthusiasm for the coming activities. Even if her breasts were smaller than May, she made up with the most… delectable ass in existence.

TAP TAP TAP

“Neo! Watch your language!”

The last of his girls, a short heifer, bound with a large chest, wide hips, and large ass. Neo had lost the ability to speak long before he’d picked her up and saved her from a life as breeding stock. While she’d softened, she HAD QUITE the mouth on her.

“Alright then…” He shook his head as the shorter girl waved him off, her eyes flashing dangerously as she gave a quick snap at her cow printed bikini. A smile showed that she was ready and waiting for them to get started, though from the very scent wafting off of the three, he could tell they were all ready. And… as he remembered what his sisters had told him long ago, a well bred cow is a well milked cow.

So- “Alright, Neo, you’re up first.”

TAP TAP!

He chuckled to himself as he unhooked her fenced zone letting the tiny troublemaker out. She quickly made her way over to the large pumping machine, something that had cost him a PRETTY penny. But it had made his life so much easier, after all just like his sisters had said again! Or at least what Saph had said, “Remember, breeding your heifers while they’re being milked is the best way to get the highest quality milk.”

If he was being honest, he didn’t believe her but… as Neo got herself ready, propping herself onto the specially cow shaped bed, letting her feet rest at the tail ends and splitting her legs apart. He just couldn’t resist, now could he? Especially not as his eyes followed the shimmering trail running down her inner thighs, leading to her moist core, the g string of her bikini wedged solidly between her plump vulvas.

“Well then…”

He hastily prepared the pumping machine, and watched as the suction began to work its magic. Her thick round nipples began to tense inside and her face contorted into slight pleasure. “Time to get started.” Thump. His pants hit the ground as he positioned himself between her thighs, and as his hands touched down upon her legs he could feel her practically vibrate in anticipation.

He of course was a gentleman, and knew not to keep a lady waiting. So without further adieu he pressed the meaty head of his cock against her already slippery slit and slid it straight through. Her body tensed for a moment as he pushed against her cervix, a bulge forming against her belly as he found himself grinding into her uterus pushing her organs up just a tad bit.

Her smaller body had always made it easy for him to see his handy work, and as he began to shift his hips, pulling back as the bulge inside of her started to slip away, he found himself simply enticed to do it again.

Hands firmly grasped onto her once more, his fingers digging into her boney hips as he suddenly slammed back. Her back arched and her toes curled as he let himself thud inside of her once more.

He could see her hands grasp at her hair as she tried to scream out in pleasure. A smirk crossed his face as he pulled back once more and then let loose another powerful smack. Fleshy bits meet, and their bodies collide. SMACK SMACK SMACK

His body began to move on its own as her lithe form tightened around him. Her moist cavity grasped upon his cock, each ridgey lump squeezed upon his veiny weighty cock. And everytime he tried to pull out she would only tighten more, her pussy tugging along with his member as she did so.

Their bodies continued to meet in pleasure until the pumping finally came to an end. And, as a reward for her good deeds he let loose a torrent of white inside of her. Her back arching once more and her nails grasping onto the side of the bed. Her eyes rolled back as she lost herself to a powerful orgasm, allowing her body to fall into a nice little rest as he did so.

For what it was worth, “You lasted longer than usual.” Jaune took note of the time, a clock installed onto the wall above, an hour had passed. “Okay, good thing I got stamina.”

Pulling his cock out of her with a POP, what followed was a flooding rush of thick white goo spreading onto the soil beneath them.

Not even wasting time, Ciel came up. Despite being the most ‘mature’ of the trio, she was always excited, internally, for a good ol fashion milking fuck.

“Excuse me, I do believe it is my turn.”

Jaune smiled, she pretended to be calm on the outside, but he could see the way her hips swayed, her big juicy ass wobbling back and forth as she did so. “Of course.”

He quickly pulled Neo off the machine, resting her to the side on a nice stack of hay.

“Well then… get on.”

Ciel shook her head, “I would rather…” She turned back to the machine and made her way over. Finding a medium height branch off the bedding she bent over. “This will suffice.”

Once more Jaune simply rolled his eyes, but as her big bare ass swayed back and forth, the sun's light glistening off the juicy posterior, he couldn’t resist. Wrapping around he set her up, this time a soft moan escaped her lips. “OooOh~”

Jaune smiled, the normally stern girl becoming soft as dough under his touch. “Good girl.” His hand was already in motion before his mind even formulated his next plan. SMACK The base of his palm met her massive mounds of soft flesh. Ciel shivered, her body bucking at the point of impact, her plump posterior rippling outwards.

“Ahng~” Her voice echoed as she felt the pressure of his cock squeeze against her soft sex. A terrible tremble tremored through her form as he pushed inside of her. Her teeth bit down upon her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut. His thick cock punching in and out of her tightly wound body always did THINGS to her.

The orderly woman began to melt, her form finally relaxing as she fell to the rhythmic thrusts of her beloved master. SMACK SMACk SMACK.

Their bodies pressed together, his hands tightly squeezing upon her soft and supple flesh. His hips smacked and rolled against her bottom, cock twitching and plucking at her precious core.

Ciel, for all her bluster, gave in rather quickly. Her body seizing as small shakes began to spread from her womb. Her body shivered and jolted, her muscles tightened and her mind ran blank as he began to fill her with his own precious milk. Her womb began to fill, thick globs of seed poured inside of her ballooning her belly with miraculous speed.

And just like with Neo, Jaune pulled out, allowing the girl to fall silently into the bedding.

“Phew~ That’s a good girl.” His fingers ran through her rump, squeezing and sinking into the soft fleshy folds. “Now then.”

Before he even had the chance to fully turn around he was suddenly tackled to the ground. Straddle upon him now sat the sex crazed May. Her gaze consumed with lust, her pupils having completely shifted into shaking hearts. “Well now.”

He wasn’t surprised of course, well not anymore at least. “Me! Me! Me!”

May couldn’t help herself, the Barn was practically radiating with thick sexual pheromones and she had waited SO VERY LONG!

“Milk me! FUCK ME!”

Jaune smiled, though that smile turned into a contorted screw of pleasure as she propped herself up and down on his cock, taking full control of the situation. The massively busty cowgirl couldn’t wait any longer, her body already on automatic as she began to bounce herself up and down his massive shaft.

And in it went, slicked with thick layers of cum and love juices he was able to slide right inside of her without a problem. His member pushed all the way down her depths punching right against her cervix and pushing her inner wall up and against the other side of her uterus.

So she screamed with all her might, “YES YES YES!” She wanted more, her body already acting on its own as she bounced herself up and down, the sound of her wide ass smacking against his hips, the pendulum swing of his big full balls bouncing up to smack her bottom echoing from around them.

She didn’t even care about being milked at this point, her massive tits swayed and flopped up and down as she unrelentingly pushed herself further down upon him. She loved the way he made her feel, his cock stretching her insides, rupturing against her inner membranes and slamming against her needy cavern.

The more she pushed off of him, the harder her breasts flung. Thick droplets of pure white began to seep from her nipples, with every thud against her chest she began to leak more and more of her precious white nectar.

Jaune wasn’t about to let it go to waste however, thinking quickly he reached out, spearing his hands upwards and folding them into her soft and squishy sacks of fat. His digits dug into her flesh, squeezing and massaging at the fatty milk jugs. Pulling his strength he lunged forward, knocking May onto her back as he started to thrust. “YEEESSSSH!” She squealed in joy as he bit down upon her plump nubs, his lips tugging and suckling upon the delicious teets.

He was going to lose a bit of profit today, but getting the chance to drink right from the source was ALWAYS a pleasure.

His body reacting to the new found flavors began to plunge further into his orgasm. Heifer milk had a ‘special’ effect to it, it heightened sexual appetite, increased sex drive, and of course. “YES CUM INSIDE ME!”

It helped stimulate sexual orgasms!

And so he did, his cock twitching, pulsing, and finally convulsing inside of her released an unrelenting torrent of semen. His thick cum began to flush forward, as her hungry ovaries did their best to consume the newly invading substance in hopes of making room for more.

And as he pinned her to the ground, her body unable to push back even if she wanted to, he found himself surrounded by his other precious girls. A smile crossed his face as he released May’s soaping tit, a rancher’s job was never done.

#may zedong #jaune arc #ciel soleil #neo rwby

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

Note

53 + Jon for kiss prompts <3

kiss prompt list!

53 - against a wall kiss

i went with jontim! cw for mentions of ghosts, hauntings, and demons, mentions of decay and rot, bats (the animal), and mentions of alcohol

Jon looks up from the small scrap of paper he’s holding, squints suspiciously at the building in front of them, and looks back down at the paper with a frown. “This can’t be right.”

“Huh,” Tim says, peering over Jon's shoulder at the paper. It’s barely illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamps, small pinpricks of light against the night sky. “This was supposed to be a haunting, right? Some lady kept seeing a shadowy figure out of the corner of her eye, and her lights kept burning out.”

“Alleged haunting,” Jon says tersely. “You know as well as I do that the ‘ghost’ statements are usually absolute rubbish.”

“Yeah, but this one’s got zest,” Tim says with a grin, swiping the paper from Jon’s hands and ignoring Jon’s noise of protest. “Usually it’s all oh, there’s a cold spot and I came home to find the telly on or whatever. But shadowy figures of darkness and deceit—”

Tim gasps dramatically. “Jon, we could be dealing with a demon.”

Jon fixes Tim with an unimpressed look. “It’s more likely that we’ve driven two hours outside of London just to waste our time staring at a house that looks like it hasn’t been lived in for thirty years.”

“Yeah,” Tim says with a grimace, “the place could really use a paint job. And, uh. Some actual glass in the windows.”

Jon sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters something under his breath about don’t get paid enough to—

Tim couldn’t agree more.

“Fine,” Jon says, sounding resigned. He rifles through his satchel for a few moments before retrieving a small black torch. He clicks it experimentally on and off a few times. “We might as well get this over with.”

“As much as I love your enthusiasm,” Tim says, “the place is very clearly condemned, Jon. The chains across the door don’t exactly scream hey, come in, it’s completely safe!”

Not to mention that, technically, they’d have to break and enter. But Tim had learned long ago that the only problem Jon had with that was the physical effort it took to lift himself through broken windows and over chain-link fences. He’d decided, the first time he’d seen Jon pull a lockpick set out of his pocket and pick a lock in less than a minute, that he did, in fact, have a bit of a predilection toward delinquency. Particularly when said delinquent dressed like a college professor and used words like ‘ostentatious’ and ‘salient.’

The being a little bit in love with him bit had come later. But it wasn’t like Tim hadn’t seen it coming.

“I don’t think there will be any demons,” Jon says flatly, and before Tim can explain that he was actually talking about things like asbestos and rotten floorboards, Jon’s crossing the street at a quick pace and approaching the house.

“Christ,” Tim mutters under his breath, scooping his backpack up from the ground and swinging it over his shoulder as he jogs after Jon. “Forget safety, let’s- let’s just run right into an abandoned building. Great.”

By the time Tim’s wriggled his way through one of the ground-floor windows, Jon’s already scanning the inside of the house with his torch, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he maps the walls, ceilings, and floor. “Forget thirty years,” Jon says under his breath. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s ever lived here.”

Jon’s right; beneath all the rot and decay and dust, the house itself is threadbare and hollow, walls a dull white and floor still an unfinished wood. Somehow, that more than anything makes Tim’s stomach turn with unease. “Right, well. This has been fun, but I think we’ve established that the statement belongs solidly in the discredited section so maybe we should… go?”

Jon makes a noncommittal noise. “Why? It’s just gotten interesting.”

“Right,” Tim says under his breath, hating how fond he sounds. “If this house collapses on top of us and we die, I am never going to forgive you.”

Jon scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen?” Tim demands, having just sprinted halfway down the street and into a small side alley with Jon’s hand firmly grasped in his, practically pulling him along.

A bit breathlessly, Jon says, “Well, I- I was right. The house is still very much intact.”

Tim affixes Jon with the strongest glare he can muster, his heart still threatening to jump straight out of his chest. “Jonathan.”

Jon throws his hands up in the air, dragging Tim’s hand with them. “How was I supposed to know that there was something living in there?”

“Because it was condemned, Jon! Of course there were things living there.”

Jon lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “They were just bats, Tim. I would think that would be a significant improvement from demons.”

“Hey, at least I get paid to deal with demons!” At Jon’s raised eyebrow, Tim amends, “Alleged demons. I can handle the monster-under-the-bed stories, but—”

Tim shudders. “Bats. I hate bats.”

Jon’s mouth curves into a smile, and this time the noise he makes falls squarely into the realm of a chuckle. “Yes, I noticed. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make a noise quite like that.”

“Hey, if you were getting assaulted by God’s most abhorrent creation on this Earth, you also would have screamed. I feel no shame.”

Jon seems to realize that he’s still holding Tim’s hand at the same time Tim does. But instead of letting go, Jon squeezes Tim’s hand tighter and says, “I am sorry. I… may have gotten a bit carried away.”

“Mm, a bit,” Tim agrees pleasantly. He squeezes Jon’s hand back reflexively, and Jon’s intake of breath is audible.

Huh.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline making him bold, or maybe Tim’s just gotten tired of waiting, but he finds it surprisingly easy to take a step closer, bracketing Jon between him and the brick wall of the alleyway, and say, “Jon, if I’m being completely honest: running away from a swarm of bats after breaking into a half-rotted building isn’t the worst way I pictured this evening going.”

“Oh?” Jon says, voice pitched slightly higher.

“I mean,” Tim says with a barely-concealed grin, “running from danger, hand in hand, catching our breath in a very narrow alley?” He shifts a bit closer to Jon, just to prove his point. “Could be worse.”

Jon looks down at their still-joined hands, then back up at Tim with a small frown. “Are you…?” He cuts off with a small sound and a shake of his head. “Ah. Never mind.”

God help him. Tim opts for bluntness, because if he’s going to show a few cards he may as well turn over his entire hand. “Jon, there is nowhere I’d rather be right now than holding your hand in a dingy alleyway.” He pauses, considering, then says, teasingly, “Well, almost nowhere. I hear the Canary Islands are nice this time of year.”

Jon just stares at him for a long moment. Then, just as nerves start to creep up the back of Tim’s throat, Jon lets out a small, breathy laugh and says, “Well, until we get a statement about the Canary Islands, I suppose this will have to do.”

Tim scoffs. “Have to do. You flatter me.”

The smile Jon gives him warms him from the inside out. Carefully, Tim lifts his free hand and settles it on the bricks next to Jon’s head. Jon inhales sharply, and his eyes when they meet Tim’s are wide. Suddenly unsure, Tim says quietly, “Is… is this okay?”

The noise Jon lets out is startlingly close to a whine, and he nods once before saying, in a small voice, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Oh, Christ.

Jon’s barely finished speaking when Tim leans in, tangles his fingers more firmly with Jon’s, and captures Jon’s lips with his. Jon lets out a contented sigh and relaxes back against the brick wall, and god, Tim’s never going to get that sound out of his mind. He presses closer and deepens the kiss, documenting every one of Jon’s little noises and sighs and storing them away for later, so he can relive this moment again and again and again.

Tim’s not sure how long they stand there, Jon’s back against the wall and Tim’s hand splayed flat on the brick next to Jon’s head, before a bright flash of car headlights startles them apart. As the light fades, Jon lets out a sound suspiciously close to a giggle before pressing his free hand to his mouth to hide his smile. “Sorry,” he says, his voice muffled by his hand. “I just… all the times I imagined kissing you, I really didn’t have this in mind.”

Tim’s brain, for a brief moment, bluescreens. “All the times?” he says in disbelief. “Jon, all the times?”

Jon drops his hand, looking sheepish. “Yes, well. In my defense, I thought you weren’t interested.”

“Not—” Tim cuts off with an exasperated noise. He reaches down and takes Jon’s hand in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing once. “Let it go on record that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time now and that I am very much interested.”

“Yes,” Jon says, amused. “I know that now.”

Tim groans. Under his breath, he mutters, “Not interested. Ridiculous.”

Jon laughs softly before leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to Tim’s lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad that I was wrong.”

“Jonathan Sims, admitting that he was wrong? I thought I’d never see the day.”

Jon gives him a glare without any heat. “Yes, yes, all right.”

I love you, Tim wants to say. But it’s entirely too early for that, and he’s certainly not going to give his heartfelt love confession in an alleyway that he’s starting to realize smells something awful. So instead, he pulls lightly on Jon’s hand and says, “Well, I’m definitely not working any more today. Fancy a pint?”

“Only if you don’t ridicule my taste in beer.”

“One time, Jon! That was one time.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #my writing #my fic #my longest kiss prompt yet bc i have no self control

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thesunshinebunny · 3 years ago

Text

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part VII)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Sometimes, to understand the present, it’s necessary to pay a visit to the past. While reader is in a deep sleep, their unconscious plays a trick on them by reminding the most important and catastrophic moments in their life.

Word Count: 9.1K

Year 847, a very hot and humid day.

First day of training in the 104° squad. Each of the hundreds of soldiers coming into the slaughterhouse gathered in lines, lined up, waiting for our first orders. Announcement of names and locations. Some serious who didn’t need an introduction, other clowns who didn’t take the training seriously. Instead, I...was waiting with an empty view towards the horizon, not seeing anything or anyone in particular.

First day, call and presentation; some came from cities, some from towns, but none from a filthy wealthy family of nobility, much less royalty. Most of us simple villagers, presented on a silver platter for the aristocracy, entering our graves on our own. Each one would have their reasons, some simpler than others, some more hypocritical than others, and others more selfish than all of us here.

First day, and there were already a couple on the ground and others being severely punished. Like the tall girl with a ponytail who had the brilliant idea to not only steal, but also cook a potato before training and eat it in the middle of line formation. A village girl, a hunter and faithful to her principles and culture; a girl who wasn’t ashamed to show her true colors on the first day, even if it gave her a punishment that would end up lasting for hours, until nightfall. An incredible example for the most stupid, but equally for the bravest. I think it was hearing where did she coming from that something inside me arose like a flower in the middle of spring, or maybe it was hearing her resound every minute around the training ground until the moon rose. I’m not very clear about it. Maybe I wanted to be nice to someone after a long time, and what better way to start with a person who was humiliated on the first day of what would be our next life.

I wasn’t quick enough to bring her something to eat when her punishment ended, a certain very short blonde beat me beforehand, but I was quick to save her a seat next to me the next night, while saving her a portion of bread. I assumed she would like it, and I wasn’t wrong. She devoured every last crumb along with her ration of dubiously sourced food on a metal plate. Hearing her eat with such enthusiasm brought a smile to my face, it reminded me of the little tadpole children who came and went in my town, asking for a piece of bread or an apple, even knowing that they had food at home. Those playful children who wandered through the small market, looking for some candy and returning disappointed at their doors when they hadn’t found any.

"I didn't hear yesterday where you came from"

Sasha, I think that's the name of the girl in front of me. Apparently she was talking when my mind wandered with nostalgia and melancholy. Her eyes were very fixed on mine, and as much as I looked away, I could still feel them penetrating my skull. I guess you can't dodge the past for long, right? At the very least, I tried to be as cautious as possible when giving my answer.

"I come from a village northeast of the wall Maria, far enough away from the wall to be warned of the fall before a titan reached our town"

She played with the poorly made metal spoon on a piece of carrot that came out of the poor soup, already cold, that this place delighted us for the second night in a row. I made me a mental note to go out hunting every now and then if I wanted to have a good meal and not end up anorexic and a failure.

“And what do you do in your village? In mine we are dedicated to hunting, but they’re taking away the land for the cattle” She took a huge bite of his bread, showing how angry she was. I couldn’t blame her, taking the land out of a hunting village was like taking away their essence, a part of their soul.

"We’re dedicated to raising horses and handicrafts" From our town came the fastest horses that the military police could ask for, some of them stayed for the field and keep the children busy.

Beautiful horses dedicated to the gambling of the nobility, others common for the plowing of the agricultural peoples. Horses dedicated to the race for the survey corps; what the government needed, we provided. It would be hypocritical of me to say now that the horse was my least favorite animal. It was not. For me they were the most beautiful, faithful and loyal creatures in this whole little world. My favorite animal without a doubt.

I wanted to talk about the various horses we managed to sell at a high price to the most authoritarian court on the Rose wall, but a noise from behind our table made my jaw drop.

A "Tsk" echoed throughout the dining room.

I turned my head, hoping to find an animal, or anything but a human like us. To my misfortune, I met the withering look of a brunette with bright green eyes, just as bright as those of the forest, and his hand holding the spoon tightly, as if my simple face angered him.

"Do you have a problem, Jaeger?" I remembered him from yesterday. Serious, tall, with a look that could kill you at any moment. Decisive and lethal. At the same time conceited and childish. He had won the ears and admiration of the majority here with well-used words and a touch of drama.

"Yes, I have a problem" his hand let the spoon escape on the plate, causing some drops to fly in all directions "I have a problem with people like you"

He got up from his seat, walking slowly but steadily toward my table, planting himself in front of me. The lap dog as a friend of his following behind him with a decomposed face, one hand half raised, perhaps to stop him if necessary. But let's face it, of the two, Eren was the one with the most strength, it was obvious to the naked eye.

"And what is that due to? Or do you wait for me to get into your little head and find some clue that can help me understand the cockroach you have for a brain?" At no time did I get up, I wasn’t going to lower myself to the same situation as him.

Half of my body had my back to him, so I was looking at him over the shoulder. He may not have liked that, ‘cause he immediately grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, waiting for me to look him in the eye.

"People like you, who come from villages far from the cities, who don’t know the real danger, are a problem" He looked so angry, angry with the world perhaps? I couldn't find an answer to that anger, nor the source of his feelings. But what I did know, was that he wasn't going to let me be trampled on by a fool who knew the world simply by seeing a titan within his short life.

"Excuse me, but you realize that many here come from villages far from the big cities and only very few saw a titan with their own eyes" And it was those same people who began to get up and look at him with bad eyes. The same ones who looked at him with wonder, as if he were an angel fallen from heaven to bring them the news of the world.

I fervently removed his hand from my shoulder and deigned to stand up, trying to gain some ground in this pathetic discussion. I wasn't going to raise my voice like I assumed the boy in front of me was going to do it at any moment, so my body did it instead.

"I don't understand what your complaints are about, but please, oh great Eren, the one who saw a titan bigger than the wall, explain to me" I could notice how his other friend was approaching towards his back, looking at me with caution. Now, of the group of three, with her I had to be the most careful.

"Are you making fun of me?" he took a dangerous step towards me.

“’course not” ‘Course yes, but I wasn't going to say it openly.

"People who don’t see the enemy in the face think they can come out of the walls to face it" did my ears hear that correctly? I looked at him as if a third eye had popped out on his forehead.

"Not having seen a titan in my short life doesn’t mean that I cannot go out to fight them"

"And yet you have no fucking idea what you're up against" the conversation was getting more and more heated, his feet were getting closer to mine and I could lightly feel his breath on my skin.

"That doesn't mean you can come and mistreat me" I instantly threw myself back, but ran into the legs of the table. Sasha's hand rested on my shoulder, unable to encourage me with words, but enough emotionally.

"Fucking villagers" he took a step back, turning on his heel and looking, without seeing, or so it seemed, the crowd around him "you don't know what it’s to see a relative of yours being eaten in front of your eyes!"

Ah, that's where so much hatred for the world came from. But I wasn’t his target. He must express his emotions, his anger, towards a common enemy, not towards a comrade who was going to help him in battle. Taking it with me wasn’t going to help him at all, and the fact I was from a small village didn’t mean I was naive and deserved the anger of the citizens. "I'm sorry that happened to you-"

"My mom was eaten in front of my eyes!"

"I'm sorry that happened to your mom! And I'm very sorry that you had to see it with your own eyes, but taking it out on me is not going to help you ”I pushed him back with my words, unfortunately they were not enough to stop his viper tongue.

"You can't know what it feels like to lose your mother like that" he turned his back on me, and before turning to his blond friend, he turned his head over his shoulder, looking at me again with contempt. "Go back to your village with your mommy and cries on her lap for being incapable of shit"

His comment blew me away.

He had left my mind blank and the only thing I managed to do was throw myself back, and sit down heavily on the hard wooden bench. My eyes stared into nothingness, unable to observe the multitude of eyes that settled on me with sadness, some with regret and support. Sasha sat down next to me on the left, while on the right a figure that I didn’t recognize crouched down to look me in the face. All I could make out of him, or her, were those big round blue eyes. A blue that reminded me of the rivers that flowed gracefully near my town. The same water that landed on a larger lake or river, and… perhaps, on the same sea.

"Hey, Eren-" I heard someone yell. From the tone of their voice I thought I distinguish Jean's annoyance.

I didn't have a second to reflect on what I was doing and before I could blink, a plate full of food was flying in the direction of the two boys, impacting on the wooden wall and scattering the pieces of vegetables on the floor and the people who unfortunately was close.

The two boys turned to see where the plate had come from, finding my hand half raised and smeared on the thumb of the cold soup. My body was euphoric, my breath hitched and my chest rose and fell quickly.

"You ... you don't know shit about me, or my family, or my people" I started slowly what would be the best speech I would have given in my 13 years, a speech that would bring me problems, as well as friends. “I’m so sorry about your mother, but in the same way, she was devoured by an enemy of which we still do not know exactly"

I came around the table and approached the brunette, meeting his friend halfway through. Without stopping, I hit her shoulder with mine, pushing my way over her.

"While mine was shot by the people who had to protect her" now my body was a few inches from him, taking Jean away from his side "my mother was killed for the simple fact of wanting to see the sea"

His blond friend, who hadn't been separated from him at any time, widened his eyes, even more than the person who bent down to comfort me. His eyes stared at me in amazement before turning to understanding and sadness.

"Judging by your friend's expression, he understand what I'm talking about" There was little space for me to move calmly, so I chose to get closer and closer to Eren, keeping my face a few inches from his. Even with the slight difference in height, I could manage to have an aura of warning and seriousness.

I raised my hand to his forehead slowly, preventing the girl from earlier from pouncing on me thinking I was going to hit him.

"The military police took her out of my house, placed her to the center of the village and with a pistol in the middle of her forehead" I closed my hand except for two fingers, simulating the muzzle of the rifle, and placed them in the same place as they did it with my mother "they shot her in front of her little child"

I detached my fingers from his forehead and with a "bang" I simulated the same shot that, to this day, continues to haunt me in dreams, after 6 years. My eyes observed his expression, the color had disappeared from his face, he was so pale that it seemed he was going to faint at any moment. There was no longer a trace of his anger towards me or towards the titans; An immature child had been left in front of me, from whom they had taken food for not knowing how to appreciate it.

I walked away carefully, noticing the trembling in my body, in my legs, and took small steps towards the door, leaving everyone who wanted to give me their condolences and emotional support behind.

"You are lucky that your mother was eaten by a spice stranger to her, mine didn’t have the same fate"

*** Weeks passed from that terrible night. The golden trio hadn't deigned to approach me, and for my part I longed for it to stay that way for the next three years. I didn't want people like Eren or his friends to get involved with me, I preferred the company of people like Sasha and Marco, Jean and Connie, as empty-headed as they were. I preferred to spend my free afternoons practicing archery, preventing some stupid from passing through the shooting range or next to the bullseye from getting a head shot.

"Here, I fixed your glove, now you are supposed to be able to put your thumb in without it opening" Marco had his hand extended, grabbing a leather glove, which I’d found in the storage bag of the training set.

The leaders had been very understanding when explaining the training I wanted to follow as free time. Although no faction was going to need a bow and arrow for sure, due to its inefficiency, I had given my point of view that it would end up being useful if an expedition needed more days than predicted and more food and provisions were needed, a bow was going to be of great help when hunting.

"Thanks Marco, you are an angel in this place" I proceeded to put on the worn glove and test its elasticity with the arrow and the bowstring.

"See you at night" and with that, the freckled man marked himself towards the canteen, greeting Jean in the distance who was waiting for him at the door.

The shooting area was not far from the entire training ground, close enough to observe everyone who came and went on the field, everyone who wandered without any direction or aim, and everyone who wanted to train. As well as being close enough to the training area with the movement equipment, equipment that was being used a lot recently by many colleagues in need of balance. One of them turning out to be the annoying brunette with bright green eyes, who was walking very dangerously with his friends on the target at the time I was about to release the arrow.

The small deadly weapon shot out and ended up hitting the red dot in the middle, grazing Eren's neck. He put a hand on his skin and when he saw the arrow stuck on the straw object he turned to look at me angrily.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? That almost hit me in the neck "

"If you saw where you walking you would realize you’re in the shooting zone, if an arrow hits you it’s not my fault" I yelled at him from a distance, preparing a new arrow to launch.

When I saw him take a couple of steps towards me, I stretched the arrow back as a warning, I wasn’t going to laid on a rose’s field while he went back to being a fucking asshole. Armin, I knew his name in these weeks when listening to a conversation he’d with another person, he grabbed his arm while Mikasa put herself as a shield. They both took him away from the target and I was able to shoot the arrow without taking my eyes off them.

I followed them until they positioned themselves on one of the balancing machines, helping Eren onto the equipment. I was about to accommodate a third arrow when I heard a scream coming from his direction. My head spun at the same speed an owl would, given countless hours of practice in the woods, and I watched the last second of Eren's fall, watching in broad daylight as his head hit the stone floor. The blow could be heard from a distance, even where I was located I could hear it as if it’s next to me.

Seeing him lying swaying on the floor, half hanging from the equipment made me burst out laughing. I couldn't stop the laughter from coming out of my mouth seeing him in such bad shape. He was going to have a safe bump and maybe some neurons would end up rearranged. My laughter didn’t go unnoticed, the commander Sheith passed on his way to the shooting area and stood in front of me, looking at me with that serious, expressionless gaze.

"Cadet (Y/S)!" I settled myself as best I could, putting the bow to one side and the arrow on the back sleeve before standing firmly "help young Jaeger heal his wound"

I was puzzled and my face reflected it.

"But, sir, why me?" I begged with my words to let me go, or at least give me a couple of hours of punishment, whatever it was before starting a conversation with that selfish man, much less heal his wound.

"Are you arguing with me, cadet?"

Every movement or prayer that I could make to try to accomplish my task vanished like a leaf in the wind. I lowered my head, avoiding his frivolous gaze and waited for him to leave, snorting. I reluctantly put down the bow and arrow sleeve next to a target and headed towards the three of them, Armin and Mikasa were trying to lift Eren off the floor as they took the equipment off his hips.

"Come on, I have to heal your wound" I didn’t stop to greet them, or to explain the situation. In the same way that I approached, I went towards the canteen, without looking back.

On the short drive I overheard Armin asking about my rare kindness, to which I replied dryly that if it weren't for the commander, I'd be breaking my asshole on the floor by laughing. We walked and walked, me in front and the other two physically stable, keeping the dark-haired boy as best they could, lifting his head so that he wouldn't hit himself again. Upon reaching the canteen stairs I yelled "Sasha, I need a bucket of cold water and a washcloth!"

I opened the door for them and pointed to a table near the kitchen door so they could seat Eren. I warned them to keep his head steady, to keep him from going forward or backward, and to keep him awake at all times.

"I didn't know you knew so much about medicine" Armin pointed out when Sasha came out with the bucket of water and a cloth floating in it.

I let out a slight "hmm" before positioning myself behind Eren, squeezing the hands of the other two and allowing them to let me do my job. I ran his hair back, trying to locate the wound and notice any cuts. Finding none, I proceeded to feel the area, finding the slight bump on the upper side of the forehead. I down the cloth in the cold water, letting it soak, and placed it on his head. The water was so, so cold, it had even made me shivered, but for some reason, Eren didn't seem to be fazed at all.

I didn’t give it much importance and I passed the cloth over the bump, waiting a few seconds for it to deflate a little before going through the sides, preventing the area from becoming inflamed as well. I soaked the cloth again and laid it on the side of his forehead, indicating to Armin to press down and not move his hand while I looked for a handkerchief or some bandage to cover the blow. In the same way, I explained to Mikasa to keep watching Eren, to talk to him, even if he wasn't waiting for an answer, to keep him awake for fear of having an accident in his brain.

I found what looked like a used bandage, quite disgusting for my taste, but I wasn’t going to take much longer of my time for "patient" who didn’t deserve my treatises. I stretched the bandage as far as I could over his head, giving it two full turns before pinning it around the back of his head.

"Try to find a better bandage for the blow" I washed my hands with cold water, hoping to get rid of all the irritation the situation had caused.

"Thank you" Armin sounded really grateful, with a hint of ... sympathy perhaps? With my hands clean, I grabbed the bucket and started to put it back in the kitchen when the blonde asked me again "where did you learn all this?"

I sighed not once, but twice, the kitchen door was open and I was about to enter when I threw a look over my shoulder "everything I know, I learned from my mother's books"

And with that I closed the door behind me a second time to the golden trio.

***

Year 850, a beautiful spring night.

The night before our graduation. A hectic night. Between the well-deserved nutritious food, meat and bread that we have longed for the past three years, and the shouts of encouragement for each of us who were present that night, a great party was put together. Many people defected and others didn’t have the ability to move on. Many were frustrated when they fell short of the top ten, fearing they would be sent to the survey corps, others claimingthey had contacts in the military police and had an assured position. Others fought for their point of view before such faction; and with others I mean the same suicidal brunette. Eren, finishing 5th out of the top ten, undoubtedly deigned to throw me in my face.

"Three years and I'm still better than you, your little village tactics were useless" he smiled wickedly and his eyes showed that characteristic glow when he won a fight. Although there wasn’t a fight here, therefore, there was nothing to be gained.

"Congratulations Eren" I turned around without waiting for an answer and walked briskly towards Marco and Jean, they were both heading towards the boys cabin and I followed them to the entrance, leaving a fuzzy Eren behind.

Now, tonight, with the years of training in the past, it was time to rest, have a night of peace before the real deal began. I never thought it would arrive the next morning.

From my position, far from the main entrance to the Trost district, a thunder crashed into the ground, followed by hot smoke covering our feet. The famous colossal titan stood imposing on the side of the wall, watching my companions who were a few meters from him. From where I was standing, I could see his arm rise and run the guns and the others, burning and blinding them with its smoke.

An calvary that started very early and had no intention of ending soon. Death and dismemberment in every corner, blood flying through the air, comrades being eaten. At each step we take, each turn a building took to dodge a Titan or go after one to kill it, a comrade fell in battle; with each step I took, it was one step closer to my own death. But, call it a miracle, call it divine grace, or simple luck, I managed to reach a roof of one of the many houses destroyed by the attack. From the roof, I could see the disaster more clearly, and I could examine my own disaster with great concern.

The pants were torn in the knee area, the tips of my boots brushed my bare skin and apparently bruised from some friction. I had a blood stain in the abdomen area, apparently from a person who was eaten near me and I didn’t have the dignity to see it. I didn’t have the strength or the courage to unbutton my shirt to see the disaster that surely my body had taken in the hours we were surviving in the city. I had enough of the bruises and cuts on my hands and cheeks thanks to some small rocks flying through the air from the impacts; I didn't need to see if my ribs were in place.

In the distance, perhaps three, four houses in from where I was, were a few comrades sitting on the rooftops of another house. It seemed a few had survived and came together to rest, there weren't many titans in sight and the few there were were wandering around without looking around. Those idiots gave me the chance to jump houses, without looking down. If I looked down I would’ve see the cobblestone streets stained red, I would’ve see limbs scattered right and left. I had a goal in mind and I wasn’t going to lose focus on the death around us.

I landed on the fireplace, hitting both knees when landing, I was running out of gas and it showed. The movement wasn’t being so fluid anymore. I scrambled down the stone wall of the fireplace, landing right next to Armin. My movement gear hit his, jerking my hips and torso on impact, nearly knocking me off the roof. Armin didn't flinch, he was just looking at the tiles, but given his expression, I think he wasn't looking at anything at all. He was just preparing to stare and lose himself in the terrors of his mind.

"Armin, what happened? Ar you alright?" stupid questions. Obviously he wasn’t alright, it was reflected in his empty and dark eyes, but my mind couldn’t process correctly.

It was in automatic mode, only thinking about survival, not the correct questions for each of those who were spread out on two rooftops. Of the many who had graduated, we were reduced to two dozen, maybe a little more without counting those who were in that huge building with the gas parts. Others may have taken refuge in a house, waiting for the right moment to move and reach us. But there was little hope, even if I didn’t say it out loud, unconsciously I knew there wasn’t much to do with the people who were not among us, because after all that was exactly what was happening ... they were not with us, they weren’t in the land of the living.

How pessimistic my thinking, right? I wasn’t wrong at all.

"Armin, where is Eren?" want to know the worst?, I already knew the answer before Armin could lift his head and scream the terrible news with his lungs.

In the end, the boy who so wanted to fight the world, succumbed to the terrors of him.

But what had impacted the most was that, minutes after hearing that news, minutes after arriving at the building for gas supplements and saving the comrades who had barricaded themselves, minutes after being saved by that fighting titan, we saw the same Eren, the same brunet with bright green eyes, appear. Alive.

The surprise we all get when we see him emerge from the nape of that eccentric titan. He was fine, his skin pink and hot from the smoke of the decaying body from his titan. His titan? There was no time to understand the situation. If that, how to understand it? We saw him resurface, like a phoenix, among the ashes of a dying body, fully alive. He had all of his limbs, even the ones that had been eaten; I could see the limits of his pants and the sleeve of his shirt torn, with perfect and huge bite marks.

I stood to the side watching the scene, Armin and Mikasa crying uncontrollably when they saw his heart beat. Scientifically and medically that was impossible. Technically speaking, nothing we were witnessing was possible; And yet there was the suicidal bastard, breathing normally. His eyes closed, his lashes drooping over his lids and his hands being held by his childhood friends. Jean couldn't believe the scene before his eyes, even the other trio was hesitant to say anything, with serious faces and completely stiff eyes at Eren. Each and every one of the reactions present entered what would be a normal reaction, missing one who wanted to kill him immediately.

And I think I rushed a couple of minutes.

***

Days after the expedition to the giant tree forest.

With Annie crystallized and guarded underground, a bit of tranquility arose within the walls; a calm that only attributed to the survey corps. Citizens panicked, not understanding, not comprehending even ten percent of what the latest information was being advertised in newspapers and billboards. The general did everything possible to give us time to resupply and rest from such a hard fight. The patrol had been divided in two, and I had remained as Jean's auxiliary escort, the poor man wanted to vomit all the trip when he had to suffer the terrible order of disguising himself as Eren.

And when the time for action came, we were both prepared to assist Eren in his titan form. I wasn’t still used to seeing him at a height of more than 15 meters, but his characteristics were still there: eyes, now huge, green and shiny, as if that shine never went away, no matter how violent or dark the situation turned upside down, and his dark haired, he looked silkier and smoother in this way that the originally he modeled.

Now we where here, Armin, Mikasa, Jean and I watching him and examining his vital signs. He had fallen into a coma for the second time. I couldn't blame him, I guess controlling a titan of that caliber used up a lot of physical energy, let alone the psychological, but to be honest… mental health had already leaked out the window.Each of us were standing in a corner of the room, sometimes Armin wandered between the door and the window, sitting close to his friend on the bed when he couldn't take it anymore from the anguish. Mikasa always sat next to him, holding his hand at all times, faithfully waiting for him to open his eyes. For my part, I was watching the sun set outside the window, as the sunset gave us its warm rays and prepared us for the cold night.

Every once in a while, whenever I heard a snort or movement coming from the bed, I would turn my head and come closer to feel his breathing. He was stable, and showed no signs of any disturbance. He was completely healthy, except that he was absolutely tired. Like all of us.

There was a couple of knocks on the door, pulling all of us out of trance. Jean and Armin were being needed to give testimony in front a small assembly, before the leaders continued speaking with Commander Erwin.

Silence reigned in the room. Mikasa was still willing to maintain her position in the chair, even if the sleep weakened her with each passing minute. I could see how her eyes were closing and her head fell from fatigue, it was obvious that she needed some rest. I put my hand on her shoulder, pulling the scarf out of her hands and trying to lift her up at the same time.

"Come on, you're very tired, you must get some sleep" I led her to a sofa that was doubtfully placed on the other side of the room. Normally our rooms were only furnished with a couple of beds, a desk and a closet, ah... and a paltry window. We couldn't bother with expensive decorations or furniture like a sofa. Above all, when we didn’t receive a decent salary.

"But Eren ..." I laid her on the few cushions, not very comfortable, brown and beige, that matched the small room. When her head touched the doubtful softness of the pillows her eyes closed completely and her breathing became calm, it was a matter of seconds before she fell completely asleep.

"I'm going to take care of him, you rest" I adjusted her hair before noticing she had entered the realm of dreams. Apparently my words were enough to give her that peace of mind to go to sleep.

I knelt to remove her boots and set her feet on the lap of the sofa. Notice her legs stained with dirt, I'd bet she'd have a couple of bruises around her knees and ankles, maybe even her feet. My body was moving heavily as I searched for a blanket among the few scraps of cloth lying in the closet. In the end, I ended up finding one a bit small for her body, but it perfectly covered her torso and stomach, that way she wouldn't take cold while she was in her defenseless state.

I wanted to look out the window again, but there was nothing to observe that I hadn’t seen before, a sad and dull orange sky. I settled into the chair, feeling that I was usurping Mikasa's place for some strange reason, and I kept analyzing the young man lying on the bed. His hair was matted and a bit dirty, a shower every now and then wouldn't hurt, although he smelled conveniently well, like freshly cut wood or dry grass. A scent that, while I was destined to smell more than necessary thanks to the expeditions, I felt no discomfort smelling it on Eren. It fit him very well indeed. I might even get used to being around him if it meant smelling such a sweet scent.

Seconds that seemed like minutes, and minutes that seemed like hours. Time seemed to play against me and I felt like my body began to weigh me more and more, and more, until I fell forward and lay my face on the hard mattress and the soft fabric of the sheet. Second-rate cotton, if you would let me say so, but it did the job. It was comfortable, too comfortable, enough to let me rest for a moment and close my eyes, making time flow more quickly.

I felt a hand gently rest on my head, moving and caressing me with a tenderness I hadn't felt in years. I opened my eyes immediately expecting to find my father in front of my eyes, but instead, I spotted a still asleep Eren, scratching himself and trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

I pulled his hand out of my head quickly, but without being rude, and laid them on the bed. I rubbed my eyes and gave him a half smile "Good morning sleeping beauty"

It took a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the little light that filtered through the window and when they opened they surveyed the entire room, still drowsy.

"Where is Mikasa? Armin? " he coughed after feeling a little hawking in his throat.

I stretched out on the chair, accommodating the bones of my back and immediately moved to the side, letting him see a sleeping Mikasa, comfortable and warm under a blanket. Eren inspected her, perhaps trying to find any signs of injury or complaints, but finding none he turned his gaze from her to me.

"Mikasa is asleep" I settled back on the chair, this time stretching forward a bit and resting my elbows on the bed, holding my head on my hands "Armin and Jean had to go to give their testimony for the paperwork"

Ere didn't say anything, he just nodded and gave me a brief "hmm" before looking out the window. "How do you feel?" was the last thing I said before the room fell silent again and neither he nor I deigned to say anything else.

Years of hating each other weren't going to go away, just like that. It was going to be a long road now that we were in a much worse mess than when we were 13 years old. But at least, we could talk to each other without the need to jump on each other's jugular, that's progress, right?

***

Why couldn't this bastard have a little sense of preserving of his life? Why wasn't he a little more careful, and since we are, a little more common sense? Why couldn't he stay calm for a few seconds, analyze the situation and act according to his surroundings?

Now we had to do a search party to find the damned "last hope of mankind". Galloping as fast as the horses would allow us, avoiding on all sides dozens of titans, even when one fell, five more came out. It was an order that had become more and more dangerous. And to make matters worse, having to be behind two of the most dangerous titans we could have encountered was a suicide mission and most of us knew it. We were giving it our all for an idiot, who I don't think he knew the value of the lives that were being lost in battle.

Sighted in the distance, ranks breaking and each one trying to survive while we tried to have enough time to rescue him from the armored titan, large numbers of soldiers were being eaten or crushed. You know the terror I had in my eyes to see Captain Erwin being bitten on the arm and dragged towards God knows where? If a great man like him could be defeated so easily in the blink of an eye, what was in store for us? What was in store for me?

I kept galloping, begging Phillip to keep going as fast as he could, that he never stop and be careful of everything in his path. I was so scared that I didn't know exactly to who I was saying it, the horse or myself. For sure, I knew the horse wouldn’t understand me perfectly, but he was the only thing that I could grab to at that moment, the only one that could save me.

Both left and right, titans ran everywhere, the boys had managed to reach the battleship while the others did what they could to give them time, seeing Ymir was also a sight worthy of admiration if it wasn’t because I was givind my life at this moment. And surely she was helping the blonde of "girlfriend" instead of us.

In that sway between giant bodies and tiny soldiers, the ground rumbled, the earth fell away, even trees fell at our feet. When trying to reach Mikasa before she fell, a titan came out of nowhere in front of me, trying to dodge it would be a feat, especially when he had his immense mouth pointing almost completely in my direction. I will never be able to thank the soldier who cut his neck, for seconds later to be grabbed by another titan and break his spine in such a grip. With the body decomposing and the other titan out of focus, I was able to move on, circling the smoking mass, ready to support Mikasa when another mass fell very close to me, causing the horse to jump from the force of the impact. In that second of distraction I turned my head to look at what had fallen, the ground began to crack under Phillip's legs and it only took a footfall from the armor titan to completely break apart and pieces of earth and stone came out, shotting everywhere.

As I turned my head back forward, I saw clearly how a stone flew directly towards my head. Call it reflections, call it having a guardian angel on my shoulders, but I was able to move my head in time, causing the stone to impact the gap between my shoulder and neck. I shot backward, hitting my head against the hard ground. I felt my shoulder dislocate and I noticed how by leaps and bounds the shirt, previously white, was staining with blood, as well as the jacket and the floor. My head was probably bleeding from the back as well, but the pain in my shoulder kept me from focusing on anything else. It was impossible to move it, I tried to scream for help, but my words stuck in my throat, and even if I had been able to scream, it would have been overshadowed by the hundreds more screams that were begging for help. The grass around me felt a bit comforting, like a cold hug in the last minutes of life. Body pain prevented me from reacting to the sight of a five-meter titan approaching where I was lying. Tears began to flow, falling down my cheeks; I wanted to scream, say my last goodbye, but I was so petrified that I just closed my eyes.

If I was going to die, I would rather die without seeing the horrible face of that damned titan. I preferred to have the image of my family in mind one last time. The ground began to rumble, I thought more titans were going to come for me, that I was going to be smashed into pieces, but the longer it took to feel the huge hand or a pair of teeth, I opened my eyes, finding myself, not a pack of hungry titans, but with the clear evening sky.

I raised my head and to my surprise, a bizarre surprise, all the titans that were chasing us at the time, were now going towards one of the highest. I couldn't understand what was happening, I looked around trying to find someone, to see if someone else was seeing the same thing as me. In the distance I found Armin holding a figure, I couldn't quite see who, trying to breathe normally and stand up. I tried calling out to him, but my vision started to blur and it made me dizzy from trying to lift my head even higher. I brought my hand to my head and confirmed the blood that flowed behind it, I was completely soaked in my own blood and at any moment I would end up fainting if I didn't treat my wounds.

The grinding of a horse brought me back to a state of consciousness, Phillip was back next to me and he lowered his head towards my good shoulder, pushing it up and lifting me little by little. Standing back on both feet, I leaned on his stomach and in an attempt to walk towards Armin I heard Eren's terrified scream in the distance.

Both he and Mikasa were looking at the scene without understanding anything at all, and what bothered me the most was that those stupid were still sitting on the ground, without any intention of moving. As I could, I got on the horse's lap, lying on my stomach, both arms hanging at the side, and I told him to run as fast as possible towards the two figures in the most dangerous area that could be at that moment.

"Stop looking and start moving!" I yelled at them a few feet away. They both turned their heads in my direction, wanting to say something, but only managed to gasp a few times before I arrived.

I grabbed the collar of Eren's shirt and with what little strength I had left, I lifted him off the ground "NO TIME TO TALK, LET'S GO"

Seeing Mikasa being picked up by Eren and placed on his back, I indicated to Phillip to leave the area, to try to get to safety, along with the other soldiers. At our side ran the couple of stupid who almost devoured, wondering what had happened. Their words sounded more and more distant and the ride put me in a calm trance until I was unconscious.

***

Year 851, a beautiful summer day to go horseback riding without the hassle of a titan in the area. At the same time, a beautiful day to visit the forgotten and destroyed towns.

We took our time, observing the landscape. Trees that had fallen and left their tracks on the ground and on the trunk were beginning to show traces of vegetation in their wood. The grass crushed by large feet was beginning to heal and new shoots were coming to the surface, some flower buds could also be seen. The few stone paths were smashed, small cobblestones were smashed, and there was no possibility of repair unless they were remade. Today was the day; the day it was my village's turn to be toured. We leave early to the northwest, guiding us along the river, me in the lead. The night before I hadn’t been able to sleep, to close an eye, I was nervous, very nervous, I couldn’t even eat anything for breakfast. After four years, I returned to my home, or what was left of it.

Endless nights I dreamed of returning to my small village, touring the oldest houses and greeting its inhabitants, seeing the children run, now older, and helping them take an apple from the market. I dreamed of reassembling one of our horses, of stroking and caressing them, earning me one, perhaps two licks to the face. But what I most dreamed of was to see my father's face again, to see his eyes full of dark circles and sadness at having lost his wife, the woman he loved the most in the whole world; I wanted to hold hid hands again, see them splintered after carving a piece of wood and turning it into a beautiful work of art. I wanted to lie down by the communal fire, hear stories from the elderly, shameful stories, and love stories. I wanted to be able to repeat my childhood years, to see my mother one last time, to be able to say goodbye properly.

I wished my village had been intact, but at the entrance my heart shattered. There were no standing houses in sight, all had sagging roofs, broken windows, and dried blood marks from years painting the walls.

I got off the horse looking at the damage and I was leading him forward by the mooring. Slowly, being careful not to trip over any stone, I entered the town more and more, seeing the withered flowers and their dried petals lying on the floor. Children's cloth toys, a odd wooden horse broken in half. Some walls were burned, others full of holes, the clothes hanging outside the houses torn into pieces, the stable reduced to nothing. The center, where the market normally took place, full of rubble and garbage, on the left a path of dried blood, on the right as well. I approached a stall that had not been completed, a fruit and vegetable stall, now reduced to nothingness itself. I picked up the chunk of splintered wood and found underneath what scared me the most. An arm.

I didn't know who it was exactly, the clothes were almost the same for everyone, but I assumed it was a man's; It was in the process of decomposition, pieces of meat were half detached. Beside him, a porcelain doll broken on its head, its brown curls discarded, and only dirt and fiber remained. I picked it up with both hands and kept walking in the direction… in which direction? I couldn’t tell. Only my body was on autopilot looking around me for a sign, the slightest hope that someone had survived. But one look at the stables from the beginning was the only thing that put my hopes in the trash: there were pieces of horses lying all over the ground. Not even our pride had survived. My feet stopped walking, dragging on the ground, and stopped in front of the house that saddened me the most. Mine.

Of all, this was the one in the best condition, part of the roof had fallen to the side, not on the house, and a hole led directly to the living room. The walls were completely burned, not from the destruction of a horde of titans, no. Those burns were from years before, produced by the military police. Seeing that wreck brought me the vile memory of the day of her execution. The people were scared, they implored not to kill her, but those brutes turned a deaf ear and executed her without mercy. My mother was a very dear woman to everyone and no one denied her dreams of leaving the walls, my father loved her more than anyone ... but that love of his was not enough to save her.

"(Y / N)?" I heard Eren's voice behind me.

His voice echoed in my ears, but I couldn't fully register it, I was just looking straight ahead, towards the hole in my house, looking from the outside for fear of entering. "These were the borders of my life"

I took a step forward, then another, and then another, until I collided with the first stones of the house. From that place I could see how the fire from a small oil lamp had fallen on the floor and burned part of my father's favorite armchair. I took another step, fully entering what was left of my old home. I ran my hand over the dry, scratchy fabric, dust had collected over the weeks, maybe years. Given how advanced the bloodstains were, I couldn't exactly calculate the time that had elapsed. In front of the chair was still a small desk full of sheets, most of them ruined by rubble, but some survived. Some of these had broken tips, other were left with black spots, and others were flawless, as if they had been made yesterday. Beautiful drawings of people, others of nature, others of birds or city buildings.

I kept looking for more sheets, running those that were hopelessly damaged, and under my foot I came across a paper somewhat harder and thicker than the others, even framed. The glass was broken but it revealed perfectly a small family, a man, his wife and their child. "In this dusty and destroy little house, where an artist love his wife"

I took the drawing with me, holding it tight with both hands, until I reached the only standing door in the house. The door leading to the master bedroom. I stood there for a couple of seconds, wondering if it was right for my sanity, if it was right for my conscience to open it up and find whatever was on the other side. I inhaled and exhaled a couple of times before sliding the door open. Next to the bed, on the side where my mother used to sleep, was my father's top. I wasn't brave enough to turn around and see his face. I closed my eyes when I saw the scene and left what was left of the facade with my head lowered. "The house of my childhood is gone"

***

A couple of days after hitting the ocean.

We had settled next to the shore. Jean, Sasha and Connie were playing with the small waves that were breaking in the sand, Armin was inspecting small seashells and Mikasa was dedicated to dipping her feet in the cold water. We had made a small fire to cover ourselves from the cold of the coming night. Eren and I were in front of that same fire. He watched as the small sparks flew over the small sea of flames until they exploded and died in the blink of an eye. Some fell into the sand before exploding, others continued to rise until they rose higher and became part of the beginning of the starry sky.

My feet were barefoot in the sand, letting the little grains get between my toes and tickle every time I twisted them. I dropped my head on Eren's shoulder, giving me the chance to close my eyes and reopen them after a few seconds, admiring the sea towards the horizon.

After so many calamities, after so many deaths and losses, a moment of quiet was more than necessary. Maybe being this close to the bright green-eyed brunette wasn't so bad after all.

I could get used to this.

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#snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #when the world falls apart updates #when the world falls apart #when the world falls apart update #eren smut #eren angst

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago

Text

Fireworks

A/n: this is not requested but i needed to write something for me and I always love writing best friend!jisung (this turned out to be hella long btw). Also i just realized this is the 16th jisung fic on my masterlist wtf. Welp happy sweet sixteen jisung.

Tag List: @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @skzwriternet

Warnings: cussing probably, lil distressed jisung, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Y/n and Jisung practically grew up together. Y/n always dreamed of getting her fairytale happy ending. So, Jisung is surprised when she is settling for an all but labeled ‘arranged marriage’ to an asshole that Jisung knows doesn’t love her. Not like he does. Can Jisung convince himself to go after what he really wants and take the risks that come with it? Can Y/n face the facts that what she has wanted has been in front of her all along?

Genre: romance, fluff, angst, non-idol!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers!au, wedding crasher!au, Fem Reader

❃

“Please, come today!”

Jisung sighed over the phone. “Y/n. I have no knowledge whatsoever about dresses. Especially wedding dresses! They’re all white! What’s the difference?” I could hear the murmurs of Changbin and Chan on the other side of the line. “See. I will be no help at all!” Despite the negative connotation of his words I could hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“So, we’re meeting outside the shop at five.”

“Y/n, I’m not going.”

“2146 Chyeongsong Ave, got it?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

Letting out a happy laugh I hung up on my best friend, sure that his attendance could be accounted for. The wedding was three months away. Jiho, my fiancee, had no desire for a big wedding and it seemed the sooner we were married the happier he would be.

But, I had always dreamed of a magical wedding with hundreds of people watching me marry the man of my dreams. So, we compromised. He said I could plan as big I wedding as I wanted as long as I could get it done in three months and he would pay for it.

Jiho was the son of one of Seoul’s big company presidents. His family was very kind and seemed to welcome me with open arms despite my less than formal upbringing. Jiho grew up in a penthouse apartment and went to the best university in Seoul.

I grew up in a tiny house in the rundown suburbs next door my best friend, Jisung, and busted my ass to get scholarships and pay my way through a cheap college. Jisung was beside me in all the big moments in my life. He was my best friend and I loved him more than anything.

“So, what did he say?”

Sooyoung’s head of curly dark hair popped over the cubicle divider separating our two desks. I laughed and gave her a thumbs up. “You doubted my power of Jisung persuation?”

“Never. You could convince that boy to run around Gangnam with his shoes on his ears and screaming at the top of his lungs if you wanted to.” Laughing at the thought, I turned back to my computer, desperately watching the minutes tick by before I would get to start searching for my wedding dress.

❃

A slightly chilling breeze blew across the street. Jisung regardless of his lack of enthusiasm on the phone picked me up from work to walk with me to my dress appointment. My mother, other best friend Yuri, and Jiho’s sister Bo Rim were already waiting outside. Everyone greeted us with a smile as we walked up. My arm was looped with Jisung’s and my hand was stuffed in his jacket pocket since it was cold.

My mother smiled and embraced Jisung with a kiss on the cheek before motioning us inside. My entourage and I were quickly greeted by a consultant. “Hi! My name is Hyunsoon, I’ll be your consultant today. You must be the gorgeous bride, Y/n!” She smiled looking me up and down before glancing at my arm linked with the man beside me. “And is this handsome young man your husband-to-be?”

Jisung shook his head dark hair falling in his eyes. A tight smile sat on his lips as he answered the woman. “No, I’m just the best friend. I’m not going to stay for the whole appointment.” She nodded looking at Jisung with new eyes. “I want to be surprised. Regardless, Y/n will look radiant in whatever she chooses.”

After a few questions about my wedding Hyunsoon led me back into a dressing room and my family and friends to a couch with mirrors around it.

“Are you excited for your wedding?” She asked with a kind smile, placing dressing on the wall of the dressing room for me to see.

“You could say that,”

Her brows furrowed. “You don’t sound very excited?” I shrugged and laughed nervously. The dresses she had picked out were very pretty. Sensing I had nothing more to say on the topic she helped me into the first dress.

It was weird to see myself in the garment. I watched her fix the dress with clips so it would fit as it should before looking over to me. The dress was more of a ball gown style. It poofed out just above my hips and was strapless with a sweetheart neckline.

“Do you want to go out and show them?” I nodded and helped her pick up the many layers of tulle skirt. Hearing fabric brush against the ground as we walked out of the hallway, the heads of my entourage turned. Several smiles were seen from my view in the mirror as I stepped up onto the pedestal.

I gazed once again at the dress in the mirror. It was a gorgeous gown; there was no doubt. Feeling ready for their opinion, I turned around to face the peanut gallery. “What do you think?” My mother was quick to gush over the skirt. Bo Rim and Yuri both raved over the shiny beading on the bodice. Mrs. Nam, Jiho’s mother seemed to like it just fine. My eyes fell on Jisung who said nothing. He looked at me, arms crossed and fingers brushing over his bottom lip. “Ji?”

“It’s....nice...”

Struggling not to laugh I replied, “One of the most incredible song writers I know and the only thing he has to say is ‘nice’?” My friend chuckled and his stare raked over the fabric before looking back up at my face.

“It’s not you. You don’t look like you. You look like some frilly puffy marshmallow girl.”

From anyone else the comment would offend but all I could do was laugh. “He’s right this is definitely not me.” Nodding the consultant ushered me back into the dressing room. Five dresses later, nothing felt right and I was beginning to get stressed out. “What do I do, Hyunsoon? Nothing feels right. I’m not feeling those....fireworks.” The beautiful woman looked at me in question. “Sorry, it’s something Jisung and I say to each other. It’s like our wish for the other to find so much happiness that it feels like...actual fireworks.” I explained with a light laugh.

She sat down on the floor with me, moving the short silk robe further over my thigh, a gentle gesture. “Tell me more about your fiancee,” She kept her hand on my knee and rubbed soothing circles on my skin.

“Ummm....well...his name is Nam Jiho. He’s really nice and very very smart. Like holy fuck, he is insanely smart. He spends most of his time at work and he really likes to run as well.”

She looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?” I nodded, a little unsure of what else she wanted me to say. “And you love him?”

“Of course! What kind of a question is that? I’m getting married aren’t I?” Though I smiled, she could tell there was the smallest bit of insecurity. She thought for a minute tapping her fingers softly on my knee.

I felt somewhat lost among the mountains of white fabric scattered about the room. “Okay then! Whose opinion matters the most to you out of everyone you brought with you today?”

“Oh- Jisung. Of course.”

“Tell me about Jisung,”

A hefty sigh left my lips, but a small happy smile soon replaced it. “Jisung is....he’s like....my person you know? Like anytime I need him- even when I don’t need him- he’s always around. We grew up together. He is my everything. I trust him with more than my life. He’s just....Jisung. He is fully himself and unapologetic about it.” Ilaughed recalling thousands and thousands of memories with him. “He is a total asshole. Way too confident. But, he gets really shy sometimes. He’s also very genuine and has the biggest heart. Without Jisung...I wouldn't be who I am today.”

She smiled and pushed herself off the ground. “I will be right back!” Just as she closed the door, Hyunsoon winked over at me and left me alone in the dressing room.

❃

Jisung’s POV

I was beginning to feel restless. Y/n hadn’t come out in at least thirty minutes. My leg was going to bounce off my body at this point. Unable to sit still any longer I pushed myself off the plush couch. It was getting harder and harder to control my heart seeing Y/n walk out in all these gowns knowing she was going to marry another man.

Wandering through the labyrinth-like rows of white frocks, I found myself thinking once again about Y/n. Not bothering to cage my thoughts they ran wild with daydreams of Y/n choosing dresses imagining what I would think of her walking down the aisle. Her smiling at me instead of that asshat, Jiho.

Turning down an obviously dead end, my eyes fell on the mannequin standing in the center of the row. A delicate dress hung on the figure.Tattooed lace around the bodice and down the front of the gown to the hips fading like waves on shore. The back was low and open and my mind filled in the gaps, picturing Y/n’s soft skin laying beneath the fabric. My fingers brushed over the long thin sleeves.

The sound of the a door closing snatched me from the my tantalizing reverie. “Oh- You’re Jisung right?” The woman asked walking closer. I recognized her as the one helping with Y/n’s appointment. I gave her a short nod, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “I actually need your help.”

“Anything for Y/n.” The beautiful woman’s brow quirked up and a smile slid onto her painted lips. “I mean....anything...for the bride.”

Her tongue slid over her white teeth. There was so much white around, my head was starting to physically hurt. “Uh huh. Anyway! Y/n basically hates everything not only I have picked, but also everything she’s picked.” I stood waiting for the part where I could possibly help. “She trusts you. She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

“I’m sorry....I don’t see how-”

“I see you’re looking at dresses. Have you seen one that you like? Maybe....one you would like...on Y/n?” My eyes fell to the floor, glancing over at the mannequin briefly. My quick gaze did not go unnoticed by Y/n’s consultant. “Well...Jisung....don’t you have good taste.” She walked over to dress form and checked the price tag before giving the gown a once over. “Revealing taste too....” She sang with a smirk.

I looked away rubbing the back of my neck, the area feeling very itchy all of a sudden. “I-I- uh...the dress just seems like her. It’s very.....mesmeric. Her.”

“She did say you have a way with words.” Hyunsoon, I think her name was, walked over to one of the racks pushing past dresses until she pulled out one I assumed was in my bestfriend’s size. “Go sit back down! I know she’s going to love this one.”

My head tilted back and I let out a sigh. As much as it pained me, I knew seeing that dress on Y/n and knowing it was ‘the one’ would be it for me. I’d snap and in front of all her family, soon to be and current, I’d confess how much I loved her and that I didn’t want her to marry that dick. I’d ruin what would be her perfect happy ending. Well...in her words....her ‘Moderatley-Happy-Fiancially-Stable Ending’.

“Actually...I’m gonna head out. I know she’s gonna love it. Tell her I hope she gets her fireworks.”

Willinging myself to start moving, I walked past Hyunsoon and towards the door, only stopping once. A glimpse. I caught only a glimpse. The door of Y/n’s dressing room opened and I saw the bright smile on her lips as she looked at the dress being brought to her. “That’s your last look, Han.” I mumbled under my breath. “Now turn around and walk out.”

With every ounce of willpower left in my body, I did.

❃

The TV droned in my rundown apartment. My two closest friends, outside the one I was deeply in love with, were half drunkenly lounged in my tiny living room. I scowled at the television, taking another drink from the bottle in my hand.

“Dude- slow down. That’s like your sixth drink.” The eldest chided, tossing a balled up fast food wrapper at my head.

Ignoring the fellow musician’s advice, I chugged the rest of the beer shooting Chan a look. “Chan let him be. You know what tomorrow is.” Changbin sighed. Turning, I found him hanging off an armchair upside down, scrolling through his phone. It was silent for a while until the inverted boy spoke up again. “I still don’t get why she’s marrying that douchebag.”

Knowing where this conversation was going I escaped to the kitchen, preoccupying myself with grabbing another beer from the fridge. the other two boys paid me no mind and continued the discussion as if I was invisible. Chan’s attention turned back to me as I plopped down next to him on the dusty old couch. “Han, didn’t you say you caught the guy cheating like....multiple times....”

It was true. I had caught Jiho not once, not twice, not even three times, but four times I had got him with other women. Jiho liked to go out to clubs. The scumbag would pretend that he was working late so Y/n would be none the wiser, then he would stay out until three in the morning drinking and getting with random girls he met. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to frequent establishments he knew I wouldn’t be at. My music career was in the dumps lately and I had resorted to DJ-ing at downtown clubs.

That fucking asshole even had the audacity to flirt with other girl while Y/n was around. She had invited me out with the two of them for drinks after a promotion at work. The second she leaves for the bathroom Jiho starts making moves on the waitress. Right in front of me.

“Yeah....well, there’s nothing I can do about it.” On multiple occasions I had tried to tell Y/n about her terrible fiancee. Every time I tried, all I could see was the look of hope on her face. the look that practically begged for me to tell her that Jiho and I were finally getting along. And....I couldn’t do it. I could never do it.

“Boo hoo. Horton hears a bitch ass liar!” Changbin slurred from his awkward position.

“What?”

“That is quite possibly the biggest lie you have ever told.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chan yanked the beer out of my grip and handed me a water bottle instead. “Oh and what do you suppose I do then?” I managed to get the words out before Chan less than gently shoved the water in my face.

The man beside me sighed and shifted to face me fully. “You love Y/n. Yes or No?”

“Yes.”

“She needs to know that.” I shook my head. No, she did not need to know that. I was not going to be the reason Y/n ruined her chance at a good life. Looking around my apartment I saw nothing but disappointment. Most months it was hard to make rent and I could barely afford to do anything but the bare necessities. She deserved better than what I could give her. “We all know Y/n is only settling. This is definitely not the fairytale ending she always talked about.”

“Chan, there’s no such thing as fairytales. Even Y/n knows that.” Inwardly, I grimaced at my own words. Had Y/n been around to hear those words I would have been slapped upside the head.

“How do you know that? Do you have proof?” Changbin mused, a drunk smile on his face. “Let’s say this is a fairytale. You and Y/n have to be the main characters! The prince and the princess always get to together in the end! Duhhh!”

Even in my sour and depressed mood it was easy to laugh as Changbin slid off the armchair and landed on his head. “He does have a point, Ji.” Chan said, listing his head back onto the couch. Two of his fingers pushed the bottom of the bottle back up towards my face. “You’re the leading man in your own life, dude. Stop acting like the best friend. If you want her go get her.”

My thumb brushed over the grooves in the plastic . The alcohol was quickly clearing out of my system. A numbness filled my body as I contemplated the options put in front of me. Maybe it was time for me to be selfish. Maybe it was time for me to get what I wanted.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the sofa and headed for the door.

❃

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my best friend’s wedding and I was walking to her house at two in the morning to confess my feelings for her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumbled under my breath. The view of her parents house was growing closer as I walked down the street. Y/n told me earlier in the week she would be staying there the night before the big day.

Just like so many nights in our teen-dom, a familiar yellow glow from Y/n’s bedroom window illuminated the street below her house. Through the second story window I could see glimpses of movement. For a moment I just stood, doubting all the decisions I made in the last twenty minutes. I could chicken out here. Turn around and go home. She would never know.

Just as I was about to turn around, I was caught in daze by the image in the window. Y/n stepped into view, radient like a new morning. From the little I could see from the street, she was wearing the dress I had picked from the boutique. Her hair was messily pushed back and strands fell in front of her eyes. The glint of the standing mirror flashed across from where she stood. Her beautiful E/c eyes trained on her reflection.

She was breathtaking. My chest got tight just looking at her and a cold sweat was born on my palms. I watched as she rung her hands together, nervously twisting the rings on her fingers; a habit we both shared. Y/n let out a shaky breath before returning her gaze to the looking glass, this time with a smile.

Her delicate fingers reached up and brushed her cheek before they stretched out as if to shake some invisible person’s hand. Her smile grew brighter as she talked to this imaginary person. She laughed and looked truly the happiest I had seen her in a long time.

My eyes fell to the road, scuffing my shoe on the asphalt. She was happy. No matter how badly I wanted her.....there was no way I was going to take that away from her. Y/n’s happiness mattered more than mine. I could find comfort in the knowledge that she would be happy. That she would be taken care of. That she got everything she deserved. Everything I could never give her.

Turning on my heel, the cold air and truth bleeding me sober, I walked back into the city away from my happy ending.

❃

Y/n’s POV

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my wedding and I was questioning everything for absolutely no reason. The rest of my family was long asleep. Yet, here I sat in my wedding dress feeling like everything I was doing, every decision I made.....was wrong. I felt like crying for no reason, my throat refusing to be anything but tight.

Coming to my feet, I smoothed out the gorgeous gown and walked with no purpose until I found myself staring at the mirror on the far side of the room. The girl on the other side of the glass looked like a bride. Why wasn’t I happy with that?

Standing up tall like my mother lectured many times in the past few days, I pursed my lips and put on a pained smile. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Nam Jiho,” The name felt unclean coming from my lips. Tilting my head, I rubbed my face before staring back at my reflection. I sighed pushing back the feeling of tears begging to spill over.

“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Nam Y/n.” I shivered, swallowing the last bit of moisture in my mouth. “Nam....Y/n.....Y/n Nam....Mrs.Nam Y/n.” The more I tried to look at the person who I would become the more I felt like crying. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mrs. Nam Y/n....” Before I could finish the words I broke into tears. Loud sobs filled my room and all I could do was stare at the hollow shell reflected in my mirror.

My heart ached. The air in the room around me felt heavy, like a weight on my shoulders, pushing me down into the ground. Pushing past the lump in my throat, my eyes returned to the mirror, this time fixating on the photos framing the glass. Pictures of my friends and family.

My heart lifted seeing a photo of Jisung and me. It was an old picture from highschool, probably taken on one of those disposable cameras you could get at corner stores. His school uniform was slightly too big for his then thin frame. My skirt was just a little too long and my shoes were never quite the right size. We were seated on the bleachers outside the school. Jisung sat on the row above me and let me rest between his legs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, as he leaned around to kiss my cheek. I was caught in the middle of a laugh and Jisung looked so happy right next to me.

I smiled remembering the day from the printed memory. A friend we both had lost touch with had taken the photo while we weren’t looking. We then got teased for days afterwards. My fingers brushed over the delicate fabric of the dress. The dress that Jisung had chosen. Jisung. Almost every happy moment of my life....was tied to Jisung. Taking a step forward, I looked back in the mirror. Sniffing away the tears, I smiled.

“I’m please to meet you....I’m Mrs. Han Jisung,”

The smile on my face grew bigger and my heart swelled. Reaching up I brushed away the tears that spilled over before holding my hand as if meeting one of the guests at my wedding. “Jisung and I are so pleased you could come to our wedding,”

The feeling in my chest had me wishing to cry all over again but for a different reason. I wanted to jump and scream at the top of my lungs the name ‘Han Y/n’. The more I said it, the more I felt like a teenager again.

All I could think about was Jisung. His dark hair, dyed one too many times, leaving it slightly damaged but somehow still soft. His big, round, doe eyes. The way he told the stupidest jokes. His voice- not just when he sang, but even simply speaking his voice was one of my favorite sounds. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I pulled away finding them hot.

“Fuck...I’m in love with Jisung.”

❃

“Okay, I need everyone to give me some fucking space!” I shouted, effectively silencing my dressing room. One by one, my maid of honor ushered the ladies out. I let slip one time that I am having second thoughts and all hell breaks loose.

Sitting at the vanity, my head fell into my hands. I was dejected. Confused. And obviously sitting with a pretty big headache. I hadn’t heard from Jisung since the dress appointment and he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning. It was like he was avoiding me. Eyeing the champagne on table I contemplated drinking the whole damn bottle then just going through with the event. As much as I wanted to get married, I didn’t want to do it to someone I didn’t love.

Standing up, I manuevered the champagne filled vessel away from my body and popped it, the sound letting loose a satisfying echo. The bubbly liquid filled the glass flute I picked up. My first sip was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I told you guys I needed space! Just fuck off!”

Downing the glass, I turned to pour another one. Drunk ceremony was looking like my best option right about now. The click of the dressing room door opening caused my ears to prick up. “I said fuck off-”

“That’s not very nice language coming from the bride.”

Jisung stood in the doorway, hesitant smile on his face. His hair was almost styled, pieces still falling loose over his forehead. A black blazer hung over an untucked slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. His slender hands were shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans.

“Coming from you that’s rich,” He watched me drink in his appearance. “Jeans, Ji? You come to my wedding in jeans and Doc Martens?”

My best friend rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the carpeted floor. “To be honest....I wasn’t sure I was coming at all.”

I blinked, trying to process the words just said to me. My best friend....the man I loved more than anything in the world...said he almost didn’t come to my wedding. “Excuse me?”

“Y/n....we need to talk....”

My chest tightened in anticipation as I watched Jisung close the door. He stayed on the opposite side of the room seemingly nervous or afraid to even look my way. A hint of a smile appeared as I watched Jisung anxiously turn the silver rings around his fingers. “Ji, have you been avoiding me...”

Instead of answering, the man’s eyes fell to the bottle on the vanity. He motioned to it, wordlessly asking for a glass. Stepping away, I allowed him enough room to cross and pour a glass for himself. He downed the flute like a shot almost making me laugh at the similarity between us. “Didn’t you want to get married outside? In a forest if I remember correctly?”

“Don’t change the subject, Jisung.”

“I’m not.” For the first time I felt like Jisung really looked at me. His eyes seemed to soften. Before I could once again appreciate how beguiling his eyes were, they retreated back to their place on the floor. “Y/n....this isn’t you. You deserve a fairytale ending. Your fairytale ending. You don’t deserve a shotgun wedding in some church with nobody watching just waiting for the hour de vours to be passed out.”

“I’m not pregnant. This isn’t a shotgun-”

“Please just let me finish, Y/n....”

Nodding, I leaned against the vanity and watched my friend’s hands brushed through his dark locks. The silver hanging from his ears glinted in the bright fluorescent lighting. “Y/n...Don’t....don’t get married.” He seemed encouraged by my reaction, or lack thereof. “I think about you a little more than I should. A lot more actually. For a long time. Y/n/n, I’ve been in love with you since grade school.”

A familiar lump began to form in my throat and a pit formed in my stomach. Gaining confidence, Jisung’s eyes met mine. “It’s been killing me...seeing you with that asshole. I know you’re happy. I know that you’re better off with him. He can give you everything that I can’t, because you deserve to have a nice house. You deserve to be spoiled with gifts and trips. You deserve to not come home every night and worry whether the rent has been paid.” Jisung stopped and stared at the empty glass in his hands.

“You always talked about fairytales when we were little. Well...my fairytale would just be us. No magic. No princes and princesses. Cause you’re enough for me. More than enough. Y/n, you’re it for me. You’re my fairytale.”

His eyes widened seeing a single tear rolling down my cheek. Before continuing Jisung watched me with shaking hands carefully set the glass flute on the vanity behind me.

“I- I want you to be happy. If you’re happy with Jiho then I will go out into that church and clap when you get hitched. Because, that's what friends fucking do and that I can give you. But...if there is any chance....any part of you...that loves me at all....even a little bit....”

He gulped, fingers ferociously twisting the rings on his right hand. Not many would believe it, but Jisung was shy. Introverted. It was rare to see him like this. Jisung wasn’t afraid or nervous, but more timid or demure. I could almost see his heart physically stop beating as I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’m not happy, Ji.” He blinked, big, brown, doe eyes trying to understand what I meant. “I want to be. But, I can’t be happy with someone I don’t love. I don’t care about the money or the gifts. I just.....want my fireworks. I think you can understand that more than anyone.”

Jisung nodded dejectedly, shoving his hands into the pockets of the blazer that seemed to be holding itself together with only a few threads. He seemed to not understand what I was saying. “I do....understand- I mean. That’s all I want for you. If you can’t be happy with Jiho or me then-”

“Fuck, Ji. You really are dense aren’t you?”

“What?”

Reaching forward, I twisted the collar of Jisung’s slightly unbuttoned shirt and pulled him closer. Before our lips even touched I could feel electricity in the air, sparking and making room hotter. Finally feeling my lips against his sent my stomach on a rollercoaster; twisting, turning, loop de loops, and free falls giving me the greatest feeling spreading to the rest of my body.

The feeling of my fingers sliding up his neck, must have brought Jisung out of whatever shock induced daze he was in. Like second nature his arms wrapped around me, cool hands pressing into the bare skin of my back. There was nothing but fire in my stomach as Jisung dragged his lips over mine at a painstakingly slow pace. The man smiled feeling me pull and tangle my fingers in his soft dark tresses.

“Fireworks?” I asked, pulling away with my bottom lip snagged between my teeth.

“Millions.” Jisung’s thumb brushed over my cheek before he leaned back in capturing my lips in another death defying kiss. “Did you drive here? I took the train.” He mumbled between kisses.

I laughed feeling happier than any moment before in my life. “My car is out back. You’re driving.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that signature smirk my best friend was famous for. For the first time I knew why my insides did flips when it was directed at me. Lacing his fingers with mine he dragged me from the dressing room and led me through the halls as fast as we could run with one of us in a wedding dress. As we reached the car, slamming the doors shut, the bells in the chapel started to ring making the both of us grin. Jisung leaned over, fastening my seatbelt before kissing my lips like they were his only source of air.

“You make quite the gorgeous runaway bride,”

❃

Masterlist

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mxpseudonym · 4 years ago

Text

Three Musketeers

Pairing: Isiah Jesus x Fem!Reader x Michael Gray

Summary: Isiah makes a saucy proposal, Michael agrees for once, and you can’t help but go along.

Length: 1691 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Dangerous for work, threesome/polyamory,

A/N: Whoo! This turned out more fun and youthful than I expected, so I hope you crack a smile and get a little flustered upon reading.

"You ever sleep with someone, y/n? You've got the two of us right here."

It was Isiah's cheekiest proposal to date and the one that started it all.

You were the secretary taking over for Lizzie now that she was moving to Mr. Shelby's new aboveboard office. Though you were only coming up on a year at the position, your similar age and humor with Michael and Isiah made you the three musketeers. There was hardly a day you weren't all together, trying to experience as much life as one could in the smoke and mud of Birmingham.

It had been a few months since Isiah rested his elbow on Michael's shoulder and sent you a cheeky grin that didn't fit his inherently salacious ask. Standing in your living room, blood warm from the liquid courage coursing through all of you, you turned your eyes to Michael. You expected surprise, maybe even anger, but instead, you found him waiting expectantly for your answer.

"If you don't like it, we can stop."

It was a little awkward in the beginning, trying to figure out who was to do what. Still, you found yourself enjoying it that time and every time after. Now it was more likely than not that whenever the boys walked you home from work or the Garrison, they'd stay a while. Today was no different.

"Your eyes get bigger when you drink. Did you know that, y/n? It's pretty. You're pretty," Isiah smiled sloppily at you. Your cheeks, already warm from the rum, turned even hotter as he kissed down your neck.

"You don't have to sweet-talk me; I'm already here," you said with a laugh.

Isiah pulled down your dress, letting it fall to expose your delicate underthings. He kissed down your neck, then buried his face into your shoulder as he pulled you closer into a hug.

"Y/n, don't throw away my compliments. It makes me upset," he murmured.

"This is what happens when you two start drinking rum. He goes all soft," Michael accused as he walked into the bedroom in only his boxers.

"I do enjoy it, so it's worth the risk," you mused. Isiah mumbles something unintelligible before lowering to his knees in front of you.

"I'm just calling it as I see it. You're incredibly sexy, y/n. I haven't to hold myself back in the office when you come in looking pretty like you do."

Isiah spoke between kisses planted on your cotton panties that he was eager to get rid of. Michael patted Isiah's head before moving behind you.

"He's right about your eyes," Michael spoke in your ear while dipping his fingers between your bra strap and the sensitive skin beneath. "Can we take this off?"

You nodded once, already starting to feel warmth pool in your lower belly as your garter straps were released and your bottoms were also being pulled off. You gasped as Isiah finally reached you, placing feather-light kisses up and down your slit.

It was Michael's turn to start on your neck. Your head dropped back onto his shoulder when his hands found your breasts. He felt them in his palms, kneading them until you were sighing and aching for ample attention to your sensitive nipples. You leaned against Michael more when he suggested Isiah put your leg over his shoulder.

"Oh god, this- ah!" A bite to your inner thigh jolted you. You looked down with wide eyes, only to see Isiah's mischievous ones.

"Oi, watch it," Michael warned, guessing what happened. From his own experiences, Isiah could get very into biting depending on which type of liquor he drank.

"It's okay," you stopped them. The heat rose to your face as a smile rose to Isiah's.

"You like that?" He asked, doing it again and watching your bottom lip gets pulled between your teeth. "Atta girl. She likes it, Mikey, keep going."

"Heathens, the lot of you," Michael muttered, earning a chuckle from you both. Though, as things progressed, he quickly joined you. Your nipples were pinched and rolled harder than before, paired with Isiah's greedy laps at your leaking pussy made you shiver. A stiffened tongue and bite to the neck was enough to send you over and leave you squirming against the two.

"Absolutely beautiful, love," Michael kissed your temple.

"To the bed?" Isiah asked though it was more of a direction. If you had to describe them, you could say Isiah pointed, and Michael drove. Isiah always made the first move, and Michael was there to support. Isiah kissed you first, and Michael played with the hem of your skirt. Isiah asked what you liked, and Michael remembered to make it happen later. Now, Isiah mentioned the bed, but Michael was the one moving you to it. Not that you minded any of this in the slightest. Ever since fully grasping that you could, in fact, orgasm several times, it had become a matter of continuing to please you.

You laid back and watched the two men undress. They were so different even in their bodies. And yet, they were perfect when they moved together. Michael pulls Isiah to him, but it's Isiah who cups the shorter man's face and says something about you tasting good before kissing him.

It no longer surprised you to see them lean into each other. Your first night together, there seemed to be a few almost kisses, but Isiah never pursued it. You weren't a fool; you knew there was likely something between them before you came along. So, in your second encounter, you kissed Michael then looked to Isiah.

"I know you're dying to get a taste, aren't you?"

Now there was no stopping them. While Michael kissed you neatly and with purpose as if to send a message depending on the mood, Isiah chose enthusiasm over form. Sometimes your teeth would knock together if you weren't careful. Both made you weak in the knees.

Together, however, they left behind any need to treat their lover delicately and moved on to devouring each other. Just before you could feel left out, Michael reached out to you blindly, leaning away from the kiss.

"We have to let her decide who she wants this time," Michael reminded his lovers of the rules.

There was no guarantee of who got what job. Isiah could have you seeing stars several times over if he didn't accidentally overstimulate you and end things for the night. Michael was exceptionally good at drawing out your pleasure in a way that could leave you satisfied, but ultimately nowhere near a release. It was hard to compare and say who was better, so you did the work of not overthinking and compromising. Michael smirked somewhat smugly as he went to grab a condom from your bedside table, while Isiah sighed. He'd be more upset if there were any losers in this situation.

Back on the bed, you reveled in all of the attention they gave you. You could tell whose touch was whose even when they moved in tandem. Isiah moved without any hesitation- full of enthusiasm and impulse. Michael is more calculated and deliberate, thoughtful in everything he did. With your eyes closed, you can tell it's Michael's fingers brushing over your lips and kiss your jaw, and Isiah placing wet kisses down your body, already on your shoulders. Your wrists were moved above your head, both held in one large hand, and two others pull your legs apart.

"Don't tease," you warned as Michael moved between your legs.

"How could I when you're this wet?"

Still, he ran his head over you until you were whimpering before grabbing the base of his cock and sinking into you. Isiah laid next to you, propped up on one arm and stroking himself with his other hand. He leaned over you, alternating between covering your skin with wet kisses and saying the naughtiest things in your ear.

You brought your hands up to squeeze your breasts on his command, and Michael groaned. They'd left the pub just for this, and it showed in the way he wrapped your legs around him. He pushed into you deeper, hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch.

"Michael, p-please,"

"Look at you all worked up, y/n," Isiah groaned in your ear. Knowing they were both enjoying themselves made everything more erotic. "Why don't you ask Mikey for more, love?"

"M-Micheal, Michael more."

You were so close already, and Michael's grip on your waist tightened as his rhythm picking up brought you to the edge. Isiah kissed your cheek, then your jaw while your moans grew louder. He moved his hand from his own dripping cock to flatten on your stomach, sliding down until he could circle your clit.

"Isiah," you said his name softly and turned your head to kiss him. His tongue slid against yours for a moment before he moved to kiss your cheek again.

"Hm? Does it feel good? Is he stretching you out, darling? I love it when he does that,"

"Fuck!"

Michael, usually the quiet one, swore at Isiah's words and broke his rhythm to slam into you. Isiah only slightly held back his laugh at that reaction. Micheal filling you to the hilt with a newfound ferocity paired with Isiah's encouragement left you squirming and coming hard around Michael's cock. Your clenching left him swearing again as he finished in you. Michael stroked your thighs with his eyes closed as you both caught your breath.

"You're gonna to pay for that," Michael finally said, looking to Isiah, who was petting your hair.

"You're in trouble," you teased Isiah. Michael slid out of you, doing the responsible thing of tossing away the used condom.

"I'll pay in full, but you'll have to work for it, Peaky boy."

Isiah rolled to his back and motioned to his erection, desperately in need of attention. You crawled forward and took it in your hand, giving it a generous lick.

"Don't worry, Mikey, I'll help."

Michael shook his head at his two favorite people, but climbed on the bed anyway. His hand wrapped around yours, helping you pump as he licked his lips.

"Heathens, all of us."

#Hahaha #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Michael Gray fanfic #Isiah Jesus fanfic #Michael Gray smut #Michael Gray x Reader #Michael Gray x Isiah Jesus #Michael Gray x Reader x Isiah Jesus #Isiah Jesus smut #Isiah Jesus x Reader #Peaky Blinders smut #Finn Cole smut #Jordan Bolger smut

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Coming Home

(photo courtesy of IMDb)

Pairing: Leonard “Bones” McCoy x Reader. Other Characters: Captain Jim Kirk, Sulu, Uhura, Spock, Scotty, Nurse Chapel, Joanna McCoy and Jocelyn McCoy

Word Count: 6594

Warnings: A bit of angst as there usually is with exes, medical incident, topped off with fluff and a little implied smut.

Prompt: “Did you ever plan on telling me?”

Summary: Reader left Dr. McCoy and the Enterprise eight years ago for reasons unknown. Captain Kirk has decided to get her to come back, so he offers her a position in the ship’s Botany Department and Lab. How will her ex-boyfriend and CMO Dr. McCoy react to seeing her after all these years?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jim, I just don't think it's a good idea," you told him, shaking your head. Captain James T Kirk was in your apartment, trying to convince you to rejoin him on the USS Enterprise.

"Why not? It's been, what, eight years now? Surely he's forgiven you by now," Kirk replied.

"Even if he has, which I doubt, I haven't forgiven me yet. We haven't even spoken since I left. No, I can't come back, Jim. You need things to run smoothly on that ship of yours. I would only upset the applecart," you affirmed.

"Please? You're the best botanist in Starfleet, and we really need you. Sulu can bring you up to speed on all of his latest findings with the plants we've catalogued in the past few years. Besides, there are others who would be happy to see you return to the ship," Kirk pressed.

You bit your bottom lip in concentration. Jim could tell you were close to cracking under his persuasive argument. You missed your 'girl talk' sessions with Uhura, even though monthly subspace messages have kept you in touch. They just haven't been the same as being together in person. If you came back, you might even start a lively discussion with Spock on Vulcan vs. Human philosophy.

If you went back, you know Jim would make your return as smooth as possible. He was right, that others would be happy to see you again. However, there was at least one crew member that you were fairly certain would not share in everyone's enthusiasm at seeing you back on the Enterprise.

Dr. Leonard. McCoy.

The two of you had been in a relationship for about four years prior to your departure. You shared the same quarters, during which time you were blissfully happy and in love. Leonard was the light of your life, and you saw him in every scenario in your future. Marriage, family, retirement from active duty, maybe eventually a house somewhere.

All of that came crashing down the night of his daughter's birthday party, when Joanna was turning 13. Two weeks after it happened and without explanation, you left Leonard and the Enterprise.

You had no intention of ever returning to the ship. You were content in your teaching position at Starfleet HQ and to stay at home, maintaining your garden. That is, until a blonde-haired, blue-eyed captain came knocking on your door, asking you to come back.

"So?" Kirk asked.

"I'll need to pack a few things, make some arrangements," you sighed.

"Ship leaves here in five days, will that be enough time?" Kirk inquired.

"I suppose it'll have to be, won't it. You're not exactly leaving me with much choice," you retorted. "Don't worry, Jim. I'll be there, ready to assist you however I can," you promised. I just don't know if I'm ready to face him again, not after all these years that have gone by, you thought to yourself.

As if he heard you, Jim nudged your arm. "Maybe this is just the opportunity you two need, you know, to clear the air. Much as you may not think so, the two of you belong together," Jim concluded softly.

"I have a feeling that one way or another, the situation between Len and me will soon be resolved," you replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you re-materialized on the transporter pad, you were surprised to see so many of your friends waiting to welcome you back. Sulu, Chekhov, Scotty, Uhura and even Spock had made the trip down to Transporter Room #3, along with the captain to await your return. The only one absent was Dr. McCoy, but you didn't expect him to show up. Not willingly anyway.

You stepped down from the transporter pad and were immediately engulfed in Uhura's embrace. She rambled on about when the first 'girl talk' night should be while you traded hugs with Sulu and Chekhov.

"Hello, Commander. It is agreeable to see you again," Spock greeted you.

"It's nice to see you, too, Spock," you smiled as you pulled him into a hug before he could stop you. "Mr. Scott, always a delight," you gushed.

"Aye, lassie, it's good to have ye home again," Scotty beamed.

"Thank you. It's good to be--" your greeting was interrupted by the transporter room doors sliding open. The moment of truth had finally arrived, where the next few words spoken would set the tone for the time to come.

"God in Heaven," McCoy whispered. His mouth suddenly went dry at seeing you again after eight years. He could see that the years had been kind to you, because to him, you were even more beautiful than before. His heart did a mini-flip in his chest, but almost immediately afterwards, his brain and his memory re-engaged.

McCoy coughed and cleared his throat in an effort to regain his composure. "Commander," he said gruffly, nodding his head sharply at you. "Jim, a word please?" he asked, then turned and left the transporter room without sparing you a second glance. Tears sprang to your eyes but did not fall.

"Excuse me, everyone," Kirk replied. As he passed by you, he caught your hand and squeezed lightly. "Don't worry, remember what I said about opportunities?" he asked and you nodded. "Don't waste 'em," he said with a wink.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"How could you do this, Jim? How could you allow her back on board after what happened between us? The woman I love broke my heart when she left me--the ship!" McCoy thundered.

"Well, Bones, let's start with the fact that we need someone to head the Botany Department and Lab, and she's the best. Then we'll fill in the middle with how I don't think either one of us knows exactly what happened to make her leave. And we'll end with, oh, because it's my ship, I'm the captain and if I say we need her, then she re-joins the crew," Kirk concluded.

"Fine. If that will be all, Captain?" McCoy replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, Bones, that will be all," Kirk responded. McCoy turned to leave when Kirk briefly called him back. "For what it's worth, you could look at this as an opportunity to clear the air between you. At least you'd know, once and for all why she left, instead of always assuming it's your fault."

McCoy mumbled something under his breath as he walked out of the captain's Ready Room. Kirk shook his head at his CMO's antics when it came to you. He knew the two of you still loved each other, and firmly believed that you belonged together.

Kirk wished he knew what happened all those years ago to make you think your only choice was to leave your family and the man you loved. Something told him that whatever it was, it was bound to come out into the open. Hopefully when it did and the dust settled, everything would return to some semblance of normal.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first few weeks aboard ship were a bit awkward. You were trying to get used to a working schedule again, and on top of that, trying to avoid the CMO at every turn. It didn't help that you had mutual friends who didn't hesitate to offer their advice on how to resolve things. They all swore they only wanted what was best for you and the good doctor. However, only the two of you could decide what that looked like, and at least for now, that meant avoiding each other.

One day, you were in the lab, cataloguing plant samples gathered during an away mission to Taegus-3. You made sure your team was taking extra safety precautions when handling the samples. "Be careful around these plants, some may have thorns. We also don't know yet if they're poisonous, so for now, use the bio-suits and the thick rubber gloves."

You were walking through Station #2 where a member of your team was performing tests on one of the samples. The young ensign turned away from her station, while you made notes on your clipboard about the plant she was working with.

As you were asking her some questions about her work, you felt something snaking its way around your exposed forearm. By the time you realized what was happening, the plant had started to apply pressure to your now vine-wrapped arm. Sulu heard the commotion and rushed over with a knife, which he then used to cut the vine from your arm. The vine fell away, but left red burn marks in your arm wherever the vine had come into contact with the skin.

"You'd better head down to the MedBay and have someone take a look at that," Sulu advised.

You looked at Sulu like you'd rather have the vine back on your arm, squeezing the life out of it until it snapped off than deal with Dr. McCoy. Eventually you relented and left the lab to get yourself checked out in the MedBay. You only hoped that it was Dr. McCoy's day off, because you didn't think you could deal with him at the moment.

Unfortunately, luck was not to be on your side today. Nurse Chapel called for him as soon as she saw you walk in the door. She had you sit on the biobed and started to check your vital signs. While she was discussing them with Dr. McCoy, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. It was also getting harder to breathe, which was detected by the biobed and it started sending out alarms.

McCoy and Nurse Chapel came racing over to you. "Damn plant must give off some sort of toxin when it wraps around its victims. Hold on, sweetheart, stay with me. We'll get you taken care of, don't you worry," he soothed.

As comforting as his words were, you knew he was in 'doctor mode'. It came naturally to him to use soft terms like 'sweetheart' to put his patients at ease. You knew those words didn't hold any affection towards you anymore like they used to. Whatever feelings may have been implied towards you by his words were likely to be a thing of the past.

"Hold still now, we're going to give you something to counteract the toxin," McCoy explained. He attached a hypospray to your neck and pressed the button to release the medication. Almost immediately, your breathing became easier and the dizziness slowly dissipated. In the meantime, he took the opportunity to bandage the vein-like burns in your forearm.

Once your condition seemed to be stabilized, all you could think of was to get out of the MedBay and back to your quarters. You eased yourself down from the biobed and took a few tentative steps towards the door.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, where do you think you're going?" McCoy demanded.

"Back to my quarters, Dr. McCoy. I thank you and Nurse Chapel for your assistance, but I can take care of myself from here. I hereby relieve you of your obligation to monitor my health any further," you retorted.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart," he replied. "You could have a relapse, or develop a complication, or--" he started.

"DON'T. You don't get to call me 'sweetheart', or 'darlin', or anything that would indicate you remotely have any feelings of affection for me anymore," you shot back. Tears began prickling at your eyes, threatening to fall. "Ever since I got here, you've been avoiding me. In the mess hall, the rec area, even the turbolift for goodness' sake," you explained.

"Me?!? As far as I see it, Commander, it's been mutual avoidance. This is as much interaction as I've had with you since the day I saw you in Transporter Room #3. So, don't pin all of this on me," he snapped.

"I'm pretty sure you're not happy that I'm here, so I figured I'd stay out of your way as much as possible. To that end, I'm leaving and going back to my quarters," you informed him calmly.

"Yeah, that's right, I almost forgot. Leaving, that is what you do best, isn't it?" McCoy sneered.

You stopped walking towards the door, overcome by a sob too painful to hold in anymore. After taking a deep breath, you turned your tear-stained face to Dr. McCoy. "I suppose you're right. I've had that coming to me for the last eight years, haven't I?" you asked tearfully. You turned back towards the doors then left the MedBay and headed straight for your quarters.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After you left, McCoy stood there, with his hands on his hips and shaking his head. He wondered how the situation with you ever got to this point. He remembered how much in love the two of you were, sharing quarters, intertwining lives. For him, you were his whole world, the one he saw his future unfolding with. You loved him despite his flaws and the fact that he constantly thought that he didn't deserve you.

Your mutual friends were rooting for you both, and Joanna loved you as well. The two of you got along well, no hint of jealousy from her when it came to spending time with her father. He remembered how flattered you were when Joanna had once asked for your advice on something.

Jocelyn didn't seem to like you, but then again, she didn't love much of anything to do with him, except Joanna. On more than a few occasions, he'd heard Jocelyn throw snide remarks your way. But as was your nature, you took the high road, and Leonard felt you had handled his ex-wife with grace.

Then came Joanna's birthday party. He'd seen you and Jocelyn talking about something, then when you left her, you looked a little shaken up. McCoy didn't think much of it at the time, but you seemed a little distracted after the encounter. He tried to get you to talk to him about it, however, you assured him that you were tired and just needed some rest to feel better.

Two weeks after the party, without any prior discussion, you had left the Enterprise for a teaching position. Just like that, you were gone from his life, but not remotely gone from his heart. He'd met other women over the past eight years, but none of them could ever hold a candle to you. And deep down, Leonard McCoy knew that no one else ever would.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back in your quarters, you went straight for the bathroom to splash water on your face as a way to calm down. How dare he! you thought. You had stayed away from him because you thought that's what he wanted. After all it was you who left him. Even though in your mind you knew it was for a good reason, there were still at least two broken hearts at the end of it.

You suddenly remembered what day it was, so you finished drying off your face with a towel. Today was Joanna McCoy's birthday, and she was turning 21, an important milestone. You hoped she was available to take your call, but if not, you would leave a birthday message for her.

Despite no longer being together with her father, you still kept in touch with Joanna over the years. She was a ray of sunshine in Leonard's life, and in yours as well. The last you had heard, she was participating in Starfleet's medical program, thus following in her father's footsteps.

You opened up the comms to send your message request to Joanna. A minute or so later, your video screen lit up with her smiling face and frantic waving at the camera. "Happy Birthday, Joanna!" you grinned.

"Thank you! It's so good to hear from you," she exclaimed.

"I sure wish I could give you a hug for your birthday, sweetie. How's school going for you?" you asked.

She launched into a few tales from her classes, with you nodding and smiling. One of her stories had you busting out in laughter so hard that tears were coming out of your eyes. For the most part, she had achieved the right balance between school and having fun, not an easy task.

"Hey, so Uncle Jim told me you're back on the Enterprise, is that right?" Joanna asked.

"Yes, that's right. Your uncle visited me about six weeks ago and asked me to run the Botany Department and Lab. I wasn't sure about coming back, but he eventually wore me down," you gave a small smile.

"Has he....has Dad seen you? Have you talked to him?" she asked carefully.

You nodded. "I had to go to the MedBay today, due to an unfortunate encounter with a plant from Taegus-3. It wrapped around my arm and wouldn't let go. I had to get a hypo for an allergic reaction, and bandages for my arm. Your dad patched me up just right," you explained.

"Good. Um....I have to ask you something. Do you remember my 13th birthday party?" she inquired.

"Joanna....," you warned.

"Do you remember it?" she tried again. You nodded and she continued. "I know something happened there, because two weeks later, you and Dad weren't together anymore. Why? You two were so happy together, and then you left. What happened?" Joanna demanded.

"Something I can't talk about, Jo, but my leaving was for the best. The best for you and the best for your dad," you replied.

"Best?!? How could it be best for you and Dad to be without each other for this long? Didn't you love him anymore? Was it my mom? Did she say something to you at that party?" Joanna persisted.

At her question, you looked away, and you knew you'd only fueled her curiosity. "Of course I still love him. I told you Joanna, I can't talk about it. Please don't push me on this. Listen, sweetie, I have to go now, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Take care, honey," you said.

"But---" was the last you'd heard of her voice before you terminated the connection. In the reflection of the view screen, you could see tears sliding down your face. You decided that you needed a drink, so you left your quarters and headed for the recreation area.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Captain Kirk said as he saw you sitting at the bar.

You groaned at his presence, only wanting to be left alone. "Oh, god, Jim. What are YOU doing here?" you retorted.

"I heard you got hurt and went to MedBay today. Then I went by your quarters to check on you, only to find out you're not there. Figured I'd get a drink, and here you are," he replied.

"Jim, don't take this pershonally," you slurred. "But I want to be left alone. M'kay? Been a rotten day and I'm jusht done," you remarked as you drained your glass and signaled for a refill.

"What happened today?" he persisted.

"You think that just because you have that perfect hair and those bright blue eyes that I'm just gonna spill my guts?" you asked. A smirk crossed his face as he waited expectantly. "Fine. I'll tell you, you insufferable man. I called Joanna McCoy today, since it's her 21st birthday," you started.

"Thanks for the reminder, I'll have to call her later," Kirk interjected.

"Anyway, the topic of conversation got around to her 13th birthday party. She asked me why her dad and I aren't together anymore," you explained, tears threatening again.

"What did you tell her?" Kirk asked.

"I told her the same thing I'm going to tell you. I can't talk about it, but I did what I thought was best for her and for Leonard," you replied. "Now, drop it, Jim," you warned.

"Sorry, no can do. Bones and I both saw Jocelyn talking to you at the party, then the rest of the night you seemed a little upset. Don't get me wrong, you put on a brave face. You fooled most everyone, but Leonard and I knew that something wasn't right. Look, it's been eight years. Don't you think it's time to spill the beans?" Kirk wondered.

"Jim, no good can come from this. Best just to let sleeping dogs lie," you said as you tried again to shut him down.

"Please, let me in. I can see how much this is hurting you, and I think Len finally deserves to know the truth. Don't you think so?" Kirk pleaded.

A few tears had slipped down your face, and you nodded, your resolve having broken at last. "It started when I was in the kitchen putting candles on Joanna's cake. I thought I would do that to make myself useful, help Jocelyn so it was one less thing she had to worry about. Wrong move, because she read me the riot act about how it's her job to do that and I should just back off," you said.

"Ungrateful b....please go on," he prompted.

"I apologized, but she refused to accept it. Instead, she gave me an ultimatum. I had to stop seeing Leonard or she would refuse to let him see Joanna. At first, I couldn't believe she was serious, but one look in her eyes and I knew she was. That's why I was so distant the rest of the night. I tried to put Leonard off by saying I was just tired, but I don't think he was convinced," you remarked.

"Why didn't you tell Len? Or me? We would've found a way to fight this," Kirk insisted.

"I know you would have, and I love you both for it. She said if I told anyone, her next stop was the courthouse. Don't you see? She held all the cards, and I had nothing," you explained.

"You didn't have 'nothing', you had Len and me," Kirk replied.

"Think about it. If I fought her, then she took Len to court and he lost, it's my fault. If I refused to stop seeing Leonard, she would not let him see his daughter. My fault again. Either way, Jim, Leonard and Joanna lose. I couldn't bear for that to happen, so I left. As much as I loved him, and still do, his relationship with his daughter is and always will be more important," you finished. Tears were now streaming unchecked down your face.

"Whoa. I knew she was a piece of work, but I didn't know exactly how much. Bones would be livid if he found out that Jocelyn is the reason you're not together," Kirk replied.

"And that's exactly why I didn't want to tell you. Jim, please, I'm begging you. Let this go," you implored as you slid off your barstool. Jim turned to you and pulled you into his comforting embrace. "I'm going to go sleep this off, okay? I'll be taking a sick day tomorrow," you added. "Goodnight, Jim."

"Goodnight," he called after you then returned his attention to his drink.

"Poor kid. Hate to see a pretty girl cry. So, knowing you, I'd bet that you have no intention of letting this go, do you, Captain?" Tony, the bartender, asked.

"Nope," he replied, downing the rest of his drink. "I gotta find a way to make this right if it's the last thing I do. Thanks, Tony," he said before leaving to go to his quarters. Once there, he opened a comms channel to send a message to his niece. The video screen popped up with Joanna's picture.

"Uncle Jim!! So great to see you," she gushed.

"Happy Birthday, honey. Listen, I know about a conversation you had earlier, that involved a certain someone and your dad," Kirk remarked. "I finally got her to tell me what happened at your birthday party."

"She told me she couldn't tell me, but she could tell you?" Joanna asked angrily.

"Hold on there, sweetie. In her defense, she'd had a lot to drink by the time I caught up with her," Kirk explained.

"Oh. Well, I asked Mom about it, but she wouldn't tell me either. Please tell me what happened, I want to know," Joanna begged.

"Sure thing, kiddo. Then we're going to brainstorm on how to get the two of them back together," Kirk winked.

"Ooh yay! So, tell me," she persisted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dr. McCoy trudged into his quarters and sat down on the couch. He grabbed a communication tablet and sent a signal to his daughter, to wish her a happy birthday. Unfortunately, Jocelyn picked up the tablet and answered.

"Joanna's busy right now, Leonard. Call her back later," Jocelyn replied curtly as she moved to disconnect the call.

"Wait, Jocelyn! Will you please let her know that I called to wish her a happy birthday?" McCoy asked.

"Your girlfriend already called earlier and spoke to Joanna. I just assumed you were in the room at the time," Jocelyn remarked.

"What girlfriend? I don't know what you're talking about," McCoy replied. He was starting to get an uneasy feeling the more he talked to his ex-wife.

Jocelyn made a tsking sound of disgust. "The same one that was here on Joanna's 13th--" she broke off and a smug smile crossed her face. "Never mind. I guess she took my advice then."

McCoy's face drained of color. "And just what advice was that? It's been eight years, Jocelyn, you'll have to refresh my memory," he retorted.

"What difference does it make? She must not have been as devoted to you as you were to her. She left you, therefore, you got to keep seeing your daughter," Jocelyn shot back.

The pieces started to come together in McCoy's mind, and it was showing him a pretty ugly picture. "You threatened her. Didn't you?" he seethed. "Why, Jocelyn? What has she ever done to you?" he demanded.

"Joanna called her 'Mom', that's what!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "When Joanna came home from that week-long vacation with the two of you, she was telling me about how much fun she'd had. She slipped and referred to your girlfriend as 'Mom'. I am her mother! I will not be replaced by some flavor-of-the-month!" she shrieked.

"ENOUGH, MOM!" Joanna's voice came through clearly. "Hi, Dad," she greeted McCoy.

"Hiya, pumpkin," he drawled. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart," he replied softly. "Did you know about this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Dad, nobody knew anything about it until she told Uncle Jim tonight. And he said that it was only after a lot of alcohol that she would even tell him. She's kept this horrible secret for all this time, because she wanted you to be happy and able to keep visiting me. She still loves you, Dad, I know she does. Please tell me you still love her," Joanna pleaded.

McCoy turned his face away from the view screen, but not before his daughter caught a glimpse of his watery eyes. "I never stopped loving her, Jo. Not even when she left. I was angry and hurt, but....yes, I still love her," he declared, his voice thick with emotion.

"Then you know what you have to do, Daddy. Go tell her," Joanna whispered the last part. "Consider it my birthday present," she grinned mischievously. "I love you."

"You got it, sweetheart. I'll let you know how it goes. Later, though," McCoy promised with a grin of his own. "I love you," he told her before the call disconnected.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The view screen clicked off, while McCoy digested all of the information he'd just been given. All these years, he mused. The two of you could've been happy together, maybe even engaged or married. Instead, his ex-wife and her jealousy got in the way of that with her threats of denying him visitation rights.

He'd been so wrapped up in his own emotions since you've been back, that he hadn't stopped to consider how you may be feeling. He had been convinced that the reason you left was because you didn't love him anymore. Now he knew that the exact opposite was true. You loved him so much that you sacrificed your own happiness with him so he could continue to see his daughter.

Leonard knew that he had to make things right between you. It couldn't have been easy to come back to work on the Enterprise, knowing at any moment you could run into each other. But, you pushed those feelings and worries aside to help Jim by running the Botany Department and Lab.

He had to admit, it's been awkward since you've been back. He didn't expect the old feelings of love to come rushing back at the first sight of you that day in Transporter Room #3. As much as your leaving had hurt him and the radio silence throughout the years, he still loved you. And now, he grinned to himself, it was time to do something about it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You left the rec area and had gone back to your quarters for the night. When you got back, you changed out of your uniform and put on your pink plaid pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt. You made sure it was short-sleeved because of the bandages on your arm from the Strangling Vine Incident earlier in the day. After grabbing a glass of water and two pain meds, you settled into place on the couch. "Computer, illumination at 30% please," you requested.

What a day. First you were attacked by an alien vine, forcing you to get checked out in the MedBay by your ex-boyfriend and CMO. Later, you couldn't even find peace in the rec area. The CMO's best friend and captain of the ship kept hounding you about something that took place eight years ago. You'd told him to drop it, but he refused until you spilled that horrible secret.

Now Jim knows, but knowing about it didn't change anything. No matter how much you still loved him, Leonard surely didn't love you anymore. He'd made that quite clear today with his parting remark as you left the MedBay. You continued to sip at your water, each tilt of the glass with a shakier hand than before.

Off in the distance you heard your door chime, indicating someone at your door. "Come in," you called. You were shocked to see Dr. McCoy walk in. "Excuse me for asking, Doctor, but what the hell are you doing here?" you demanded, arms crossed over your chest.

His eyes locked with yours and you almost gave in to the softness you thought you saw, but you stood your ground. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I'm here to check your bandages. You left the MedBay so quickly, I wanted to make sure that the wound was still covered," he explained.

You rolled your eyes. "Really, Doctor? Is that the best excuse you could come up with? You didn't even bring your medkit, and I really don't have time for this. Goodnight, Dr. McCoy," you retorted.

"Now wait just a minute. As Chief Medical Officer, I am responsible for the health and safety of all crew members. I can see right now that you look a little flushed, which could mean a fever and possibly an infection. Just a quick exam. It'll be painless, I promise," he pleaded, his hands raised.

You arched an eyebrow in skepticism but finally relented. "Fine. A quick exam, then I'm going to bed and you can see yourself out," you muttered.

He stood in front of you, first looking at the bandaged arm, then sliding his hands up your arms to rest on your shoulders. He peered into your eyes and could see how bloodshot they were, probably from the tears you'd been shedding lately. He checked the lymph nodes on your neck to see if they were swollen, but they were fine.

He patted down his uniform, checking his pockets. "Hmm. I don't have a tricorder with me, so I'll have to check your temp the old fashioned way," he remarked. Before you could utter a word, his lips meshed with your forehead.

The second his soft lips touched your skin, something inside you fluttered. You closed your eyes and gave a sigh of contentment before you could stop yourself. "Doctor....," you whispered.

"Shh. Still checkin' your temp, darlin'. And it's Leonard, by the way. You used to call me that, remember?" he murmured against your skin.

Your eyes flew open and you stepped back. "Wait a minute. Why are you really here?" you asked.

"I already told you, to check your bandages. Besides, I want to apologize for what happened earlier in the MedBay, as you were walking out. I shouldn't have said that," McCoy started.

You backed further away from him as the realization sunk in. "Oh no, no, no, you've been talking to Jim, haven't you?" you replied. "I told him to drop it, that no good can come from dredging up something that happened eight years ago. Dammit, does that man ever listen?" you ranted, pacing the floor.

"Hold on there for a minute, sweetheart. I didn't talk to Jim, I called Joanna to wish her a happy birthday. Jocelyn picked up because Joanna was busy. Jocelyn was the one who admitted what happened, not Jim," McCoy explained.

"Leonard, I'm so sorry about what happened all those years ago. I truly thought I was doing the right thing by leaving. But all I've done is cause tremendous heartache for the people I love," you admitted, breaking down into tears yet again.

McCoy walked over and put his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. His hand came up and stroked the back of your head. "Shh, it’s okay, darlin'. I just wish I had known about it then. You never should've had to shoulder that burden all by yourself. Did you ever plan on telling me?" he asked.

You leaned back just far enough to lock eyes with him. "I couldn't, Len. Jocelyn said if I did, she would take you to court and fix it so you couldn't see Joanna at all. I know that custody hearings can go either way, and there's no way I could take the chance that you might lose. So I thought my only option was to step aside. I'd rather have you hate me but keep visitation rights for your daughter, than to love me and not have her," you said as you broke down again.

"Oh, Sugar, I could never hate you," he replied softly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. "When I found out that you left, I was so angry and hurt. Mostly because you'd made a decision alone that affected both of us. But when you came back and I saw you on that transporter pad all those weeks ago, I thought I had a second chance. Probably screwed that up too, though, haven't I?" he chuckled and so did you.

"Nah. You haven't done anything of the sort. I have missed you so much. After enough time had gone by, I thought about reaching out to you. Then I figured that too much time had gone by and you'd be with someone else. Which would've been fine, as long as you were happy, that's all that would matter to me," you remarked.

"Well, I haven't exactly been living like a monk, you know. I've met other women over the years, but none of them compared to you and no one ever will, either. Which is good, because I don't want any pale imitations or substitutions. I only want the real thing," he admitted just before crashing his lips into yours.

You felt the depth of his emotion poured into that first kiss and returned it with equal fervor. The apologies, the regrets, the longing for each other you still had after all these years. And the love you'd been keeping hidden from each other but never fully let show until now.

"Oh, my love," you whispered. "I've missed you so much, Leonard," you replied hoarsely.

"I've missed you too. I love you so much, Sugar. Can we please agree to not ever be separated like that again? I don't think my heart can take another minute without you," he remarked.

"Mine either. No more separations like that, because with you is where I belong. I love you, Len," you declared. You ran your hands up his arms and cradled his neck between them. Your fingers slid through his jet-black hair, smirking as you teased the short hairs at the base of his collar.

"Oh, there's my naughty girl, I wondered where she'd gone," McCoy growled playfully as he tightened his embrace.

"She's been right here, all along. Just waiting for the right time to come home," you replied softly, then tugged him closer for another kiss.

This kiss was different than before. This one was slow, sensuous and held the promise of a new beginning. As your mouths moved against each other, there was just enough of an opening between you for Leonard's tongue to slip through. He took full advantage of the opportunity, and when your tongues met, a moan of pleasure escaped from you.

Leonard's hands roamed up and down your back as he nudged his way to your neck. "Darlin', you're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin. He left a few open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone, nipping as he went and ultimately leaving his mark on you for all to see.

Layers of clothing were shed one by one. Little by little, Leonard nudged you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You climbed up onto the mattress, crawling until you reached the middle where he soon joined you and leaned down to kiss you.

His hands and mouth took their time in worshiping every inch of your exposed skin, as if re-committing it to memory. Your mouth and hands were doing the same, reacquainting yourself with every muscle, every detail of his exquisite bare body.

The silence of your room was punctuated with breathy words of affection and moans of ecstasy from the two of you. Layers of passion were built higher and higher as you both chased your release. Finally, you both tumbled over the edge, one after the other, each whispering declarations of love.

Later, after you both got cleaned up, Leonard came back to bed and settled under the covers with you. He wrapped his arm around you so that your head rested on his chest. You could hear his steady heartbeat, which brought out a sigh of contentment from you.

"Len?" you whispered. He hummed in response, drawing random patterns on your shoulder. "Is this okay? I mean, what just happened, I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I'd like us to try again. I-If that's what you want," you hastily added.

He shifted so that he was propped up on his side, looking down at you. His hand cupped your face, while his thumb caressed your cheek. "Sweetheart, I've wanted that ever since you set foot back on this ship. I may be a little late in sayin' so, but I never stopped lovin' you. If you'll have me, I would love to try being us again," he replied softly.

"I would love that very much," you answered. "I love you, Leonard."

"I love you too, darlin'. Welcome home," he whispered, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora

#aimees1600wc #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard bones mccoy x reader #bones x reader #bones mccoy x reader #star trek aos

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nocapesdahling · 3 years ago

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As the World Falls Down - Chapter 1

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Summary: You are the head of Research and Development for your squad in Sokovia and also serve as its handler. Your leader is the esteemed Colonel Helmut Zemo, your best friend though you’ve often sometimes wished that it could be more than that.

Rating: Mature (17+)

There is currently no explicit sexual content planned for this fic, but there may be things heavily implied as we move forward so rating it M to be safe. Please respect the rating.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Canon pairing of Heike Zemo/Helmut Zemo; implied potential polyamory; Zemo likes to be called Sir; Referenced Age Difference; Angst will be coming in subsequent chapters.

A/N: Hi everyone! Helmut Zemo and this idea would not leave me alone. This is my first reader fic and my first fic published on Tumblr, so I would love to hear what you think. This will be a multi-chapter fic, covering Age of Ultron, Civil War, and TFATWS. The first three chapters will cover AOU. Zemo and everyone in this chapter are speaking Sokovian, but it's written in English. It is assumed that the reader’s nickname exists in the Sokovian alphabet.

Chapter 1: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Summary: Everything was normal. Well as normal as it could be in the day in the life of a handler for a Sokovian covert intelligence squad when robots began to attack Novi Grad and things…well, things went downhill from there.

You had met Baron Helmut Zemo years ago, though you hadn’t known he was a baron back then, in what felt like another life and had been by his side ever since. You served as the tech wizard and handler for his team of EKO Scorpions, outfitting them with gadgets, designing their suits and masks, and acting as tech support for their missions. Zemo had jokingly referred to you as Q when you presented him with his purple mask for the first time and to your slight embarrassment it had stuck. No one on the team had called you anything else since.

Now, machines had attacked Novi Grad and you had to do something for Sokovia, for her people. You tried hacking the machines to no avail. You’d get into one and then it would fall over lifeless as though it never worked in the first place. The algorithm was constantly changing and the AI was too complex without your specially designed work equipment, which was currently in your base miles outside the city and not your apartment, so it was time for plan B.

You focused on getting your people out of the city and saving as many civilians as possible. A swarm of robots attacking seemed like something that would attract the attention of the Avengers, but they weren’t here yet and you couldn’t sit idly by waiting for them to arrive. You called the members of your team and reached almost all of them. They were stationed around the city, doing their parts to help civilians as covertly as possible. Your team was not used to doing anything without their masks, which you did not tend to bring home, but this was an extraordinary situation so you would all do what you must.

You had reached everyone, except Helmut. He wasn’t picking up via his phone or his earpiece, and you couldn’t help but worry about him and his family. You had all been called to (well, ordered if you were being technical) to defend the city, but your squad wouldn’t function the same without its leader.

You needed Colonel Helmut Zemo.

This was the first time in a long time that you had been out in the field, preferring to be behind the scenes, but you were capable and skilled enough to be there. Zemo had made sure of it.

________________________________________________________________

Flashback:

You were designing an exploding pen in the lull between missions, just for fun, when you registered Helmut’s presence in the room. You had no idea how long he had been standing there as you often got lost in your head, especially while working on a diverting project. Your brain flitted from one thought to the next and fixated on solving different problems or creating new gadgets. The outside world became a blur to you. Helmut’s voice was one of the few things that could draw you out of it. It had been like that since you first met him. Maybe, it was the timbre of his voice that always seemed to reach you even when you were figuratively miles away. His deep voice was so lovely.

“How useful do you think that would be, my Q?” Helmut’s voice was amused and fond.

You turned to face your best friend ready to excitedly tell him the multitude of uses for the exploding pen in the field, when your breath caught in your throat. Sometimes, it took you aback how handsome he was. He was wearing his military uniform today and he looked too attractive in it. It wasn’t even fair.

His hair often fell on his forehead, giving you the urge to brush it away. It was difficult for you to resist the urge to touch that lock of hair and him in general, but you were succeeding so far. Somehow. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for that. You thought you deserved it.

A man shouldn’t look so good with a gun in his hand either, even if it was one you designed. There was something undeniably sexy about the way Helmut used your gadgets, which took you so much time and effort to make. He took the time to understand them and utilize their full abilities. It made you feel like he was making the effort to understand you.

His smooth and confident motions were also mesmerizing to watch via the screen, while you directed the squad on missions. You had never allowed yourself to get too distracted by him, but acknowledged the beauty of his savagery that he occasionally employed to get the job done.

It was a toss up between which look you liked better, the military uniform or the dark purple sweater and coat he wore for certain missions. You had made sure that his shoulder holsters fit under it and that everything looked smooth. God, you loved how he looked in that coat. (You would also admit to admiring how the shoulder holsters looked on him too).

You took him in. His hands were encased in black leather gloves and his hair was mussed from his mask, but he looked good like always even having just come back from a mission. You took a glance down at his hands.

No blood this time, thank goodness.

You attempted to snap yourself out of it, hoping Helmut wouldn’t notice. Your brain was being particularly uncooperative today, pointing out everything you shouldn’t notice. Your mind was filled with of images of how it would feel for Helmut to caress and handle you the way he did the guns and gadgets you presented to him, what the leather of his gloves would feel like on your bare skin, and how it would feel to trace the multitude of scars you knew he received from missions not just on his chest but all over his body.

Maybe, it was time to find a new romantic partner that Helmut couldn’t scare away. He had intimidated the last one away within minutes of meeting them, and you hadn’t bothered to try to meet someone since.

What was the point when Helmut vetoed them as soon as you introduced them?

Given some of your current thoughts, it was probably time to do something about the lack of romance in your life. With your luck however, they would take one look at Helmut and run for the hills in both a figurative and literal sense. The man was quietly intimidating at the best of times, but when he actually tried he oozed danger. You almost couldn’t blame your possible partner. Meanwhile, when his full focus and attention were on you, you felt flustered and hot in a way you had never felt with anyone else though you attempted not to show it. You thought that you had been rather successful at that, though who could tell with Helmut? The man might have known about your crush on him for ages, but hadn’t said anything to save your pride.

(Helmut did in fact know and found it adorable. He and Heike had once mused about adding you as a third and equal part of their relationship, because both had seen the way you watched them even if you might not have noticed them watching you back. That reminded him that he needed to bring that up with Heike once more when he returned home. He schooled his face to give nothing away before continuing to watch you as you stayed lost in your thoughts. He would coax you out of it soon, but enjoyed watching your face as your brain worked.)

You attempted to shake your thoughts away again, knowing that at this point if Helmut hadn’t noticed your inattention before then he certainly had now. The man was happily married to a wonderful and gorgeous woman, who you adored, and you were his son’s godparent for goodness sake. You might have had a chance at one point years ago. You had thought your friendship might have become something more, but that had been before Helmut had met Heike.

What chance did you have with a Baron, anyway?

Helmut had stepped closer, while you were lost in your musings and reached for your hand. “Where have you gone Q, darling? Have I lost you in your head again?”

You snapped out of it and almost jumped back because of his new proximity. His brown eyes bored into yours with slight crinkles in the corners, showing his joking mood. You shook your head and hoped again that he didn’t notice the reason for your distraction, though you didn’t have much hope. The man noticed everything.

“I was just thinking about the improvements I could make to the exploding pen and how you all could use it on your missions!” you exclaimed, excitement in your voice and face as you spoke of your work. You hoped your enthusiasm would divert him from questioning what had distracted you.

Helmut chuckled softly and played along, “May I?”. He indicated the pen that was still sitting in your hand. His lips were slightly upturned. He knew how passionate you got about your gadgets.

“Of course, Colonel,” you smirked back and handed him the pen. Your hands brushed, the leather of his gloves caressing your palm.

Helmut stepped closer to the light and examined the pen. “I can already think of several uses for this, my Q, though I did happen to notice something about this particular pen.” He turned on his heel and held the pen up for your perusal as though you hadn’t spent the last hour examining and perfecting it. You played along, leaning closer as if to examine the pen. Helmut loved his games, and you had never been anything but a willing participant.

“Hmm?” you made a questioning sound as you straightened your blazer and looked away to avoid eye contact in the hopes that he would come closer with your faux avoidance of his question.

You heard him step nearer, knowing that he could walk silently if he chose and that he wanted you to hear him. “Look at me, my Q. Where has this shyness come from, hmm?” His hand was on your chin, tilting your head up before you could respond.

At some point, when you weren’t looking, he had taken his gloves off and you had to stifle a shiver as his gun calloused warm hand touched the bare skin of your face. A brief thought crossed your mind of what that hand would feel like elsewhere before he let you go, staying a little too close for your piece of mind.

“There you are,” He smiled at you, a full one that was more rare than you would have liked. “Now, Q, you know what I noticed? This pen,” and here he drew your attention back to the pen by playfully flourishing it like the showman he was, “is one of mine. I am the only one on the team that uses this brand. Do you know how much a Mont Blanc costs, darling?”

You shook your head and smiled sheepishly. You knew vaguely that they were expensive, but it was the best kind of pen for this sort of thing so you hadn’t thought twice. “No, but it was the most sturdy pen and I knew that you, Boss, would be the one most likely to use it once it was done. So I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used your pen.”

Internally, you wanted to laugh. You knew that Helmut would not have let another member of the squad get away with some of the stuff you pulled. You were the only one who called him Boss, though you had experimented with calling him Sir like the rest of your squad. That had brought an odd light to his eyes that you had never been able to quite decipher. He had almost looked hungry. You refrained from calling him Sir too often after that, except when you really wanted something or intended to tease him.

Helmut smirked at you as he slipped the pen into his pocket, “I’ll be keeping this, Q. Usual activation, I presume?”

You smiled back, attempting to stop yourself from bouncing up and down on your heels. He and the rest of the squad always praised your gadgets, but it gave you a secret and special sort of thrill to have Helmut’s approval in particular. “Of course, Boss.”

“Now, for the actual reason I came here before we got so delightfully distracted by the products of your brain, you and I are going to the gun range. I happened to notice you haven’t been there in some time, Q.”

“I’ve been busy,” you protested while knowing he wouldn’t buy it, “Being the team’s handler and tech wizard is hard work.”

You had never enjoyed committing violence yourself, so tended to avoid the range, though you had never minded watching Helmut on his solo missions and as he lead the team on group missions. The thought passed through your head again that the man looked sexier than he should in full uniform with a gun in his hand. You shook your head in an attempt to dislodge your thoughts. You weren’t sure where they had come from today, but you wanted them to stop and stop now. You resolved once again to pursue a new relationship. Helmut was your friend and could not be anything more, no matter your fantasies and dreams.

“I know you work hard, darling Q, and that you can handle yourself, but you must practice in case the worst were to happen and we needed you in the field. I know you have the needed patience, my Q, with your line of work, but you must gain the experience. A person can do anything if they have those. You can do anything… I’ve known that ever since I first met you when you were a young student. How many grades did you skip again? Look how much you’ve accomplished and you’re still so young.”

You ignored his question about the grades you had skipped. You had been something of a child prodigy and had been younger than the average grad student. “Yeah, yeah, Boss and you’re such an old man. Also, I’m not that much younger than you. Do you remember our first conversation in the library?”

“Of course, Q. I’ll never forget it, even when I am actually an old man. You got my attention by your book selections. Machiavelli and hmm what was the second one?”

You noticed again that Helmut truly was in a joking mood today. The mission must have gone well. They hadn’t needed you to act as the handler for this one, but you were glad there’d been no mishaps. Sometimes, after a difficult mission, Helmut brought his field persona back to the base. During those instances, his demeanor gave off the impression of a man who would do whatever necessary to accomplish his goals. No matter what was required. You hated to say it, but when he was like that you were a little turned on. (Well, more than a little but you weren’t going there at the moment).

You had always had a thing for intelligent and ruthless men, which now that you thought about it had started once you met Helmut, and his domineering field persona made you feel hot. You gave up on controlling your thoughts today as that seemed to be a lost cause, and internally sighed. Heike was a lucky woman.

“You’ll never let that one go, will you? It was for my course. Read one German erotic book or two, and no one ever lets you forget it.”

“Or two, my Q? Who said anything about a second one?”

“No one. Not me. Moving on, anyway you think anyone younger than you is young, Helmut. Also, you look younger than your actual age.”

“Yes, I know. Helps for undercover missions.”

“Of course, it does. Did you even need those glasses you were wearing when we met or were they just there to make you look more studious?”

He laughed and gestured for you to lead the way to the range, not answering your somewhat rhetorical question. “Let’s go, Q. I have to see how rusty you’ve gotten. Afterwards, perhaps if you’re good, I will teach you how to wield a sword.”

“Oh I’ll show you how good I can be, Sir.”

End Flashback

_____________________________________________________________

Well, the so-called worst had happened and you were out in the field, facing killer robots of all things. You were working in conjunction with your squad to evacuate and protect neighbors and strangers alike, but it was different being out here as opposed to behind a screen. You had finally been able to reach Helmut, and he had gotten Heike and Carl to safety outside the city with his father on their estate. You had breathed a sigh of relief at that. They would be safe there, and you did not need to worry about them. He had also reported that the Avengers had finally arrived and that they had been able to see them from their car window, which meant that it was time for your squad to finish up and get out of there.

Helmut was elsewhere in the city, and your squad was one of the only ones still in Novi Grad proper, so you were spread thin. Yet you couldn’t help but wish to see Helmut, to embrace him for what could be the last time. You had faith in your squad and the Avengers, but this was your country and your people at stake. That unwavering faith lasted until Novi Grad’s, your home’s, streets began to splinter and the city began to lift from the ground faster than you would have thought possible and no one seemed to be able to stop it, not even “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

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sebstanseabass · 3 years ago

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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 19

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The atmosphere changed in a snap. Everyone had felt it, except Peter.

Peter's early arrival had you all floored, especially you and Bucky. Oblivious to Peter, you were both dumbfounded, like deer caught in headlights. But this wasn't the best time to process what was going to happen next. You had to think off your feet. Yoy had to show Peter that there was no more than surprise in your faces.

Peter was finally here. That's what matters right now.

The instrumentals of Hungry Eyes kept playing in the background. Bucky's microphone created a feedback sound once he let it rest on his sides, making you all wince. Peter ditched his bags (which magically doubled), and strode towards you, engulfing you in a hug. Although he reeked of damp, mossy grass, and wood, you hugged him back.

"I got in early! How great is that?" He greeted you with enthusiasm laced in his voice. "Oh god, I've missed you, y/n!" He said into your ear.

The rest of the group, laid back on their comfortable seats, watched the whole thing unfold in front of their very eyes. You’d definitely pay to see Nat's look on her face right now.

"Yeah, you did!" you patted his back before pulling away, giving him the best smile you could do. "I've missed you, too. Welcome back, Parker. It's been quite a damn week without you."

Bucky was solid as a rock before Peter moved towards his spot (Bucky gave me a quick glance and a wry smile which you then returned; afterwards, you bit your lip looking at the exchange between the two) and hugged him tight as they exchanged their formalities. "It's nice to have you back, Peter."

"It is nice to be back." Peter replied, pulling away. "Whew, that one week went by real slow, huh? Feels like ages!"

"Yeah." Bucky glanced at you one more time. This time, it was longer. "No kidding."

"Alright everyone, it's nice to see you all together."

The group mumbled agreeably.

"Sam," Peter acknowledged, doing his signature finger gun pointed towards him, "I don't even know why you're here but I will as soon as I take a quick shower right upstairs and get these bags sorted out."

"You might want to take a long one there, buddy." Sam breathed out, fanning the air. "You smell like a caveman."

"Sam." You scolded, shaking your head.

"Yes, babydoll?" He jeered, which you and Bucky didn't like.

Most especially Bucky.

And Peter as well.

You gave Sam a look, hidden from Peter's view, of course, careful not to raise any kind of suspicion. But boy, was Sam giving you and Bucky a hard time. The group knew why he called you that, of course. But not Peter.

"Babydoll?" Peter repeated, a confused expression crossing his face as he turned towards you. "Why is he calling you that ridiculous nickname?"

Peter had always hated when men called you, as he put it, "ridiculous" nickname. You knew if he could punch them all, he would but because of Steve's number one rule (no fighting in the bar), he couldn't. It all started ever since you worked in the bar. You weren’t getting much attention when you were a waitress but you guess, when men see a woman behind the counter making their drinks, apparently, they think you’re easy, and naive, and would fall for their "charm" by calling you nicknames. One minute you’re "darling", the next you’re "doll" or "baby" or, the worst of them all, "mon chéri."

God, did men really think women would be turned on by a French nickname with a horrendous French accent? Perhaps, the idiots do.

You suddenly wondered if Peter felt the same.

"He's just kidding." You mumbled, taking him away from the group. "You know how Sam is."

You started to lead him further towards the door where his bags were.

"I know how he is, y/n." He grew more agitated now, triggered by what Sam had called you. "I've known him longer than you. Okay, what on earth is going on here?" Peter turned around once more, facing them all. His hands were all over the place. Exaggerated gestures that furthered his confused state. "What happened in that one week I was gone? Jeez."

"Hey." You made Peter focus his attention back towards you by grabbing him by the shoulders. By this time, the instrumentals on the karaoke machine were gone. "We get that you're really confused right now and you're tired so why don't you go and take a shower. The night is still young, Parker. I promise we'll tell you everything the second you come back here."

Of course, not everything.

The dead air whistled around, which you hated. He glanced at the group, who was waiting for a response. Their eyes were all on you and Peter. He finally let out a sigh, his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry, it's just been kind of a long drive."

With that, Peter scurried towards the apartment to set down his bags and take a shower. He left a trace of awkwardness in the air once he left.

"Is it just me," Nat started as you walked towards the booth, "or did he grow taller? Did he go to, like, a magic place or something?" Everyone looked at her with knitted brows. "Jesus, I'm just lightening up the mood." She said, hands raised up.

You strode towards Sam, a rush of heat climbing its way towards your face. "Seriously? You had to call me that?"

Sam chuckled nervously, eyes flickering between you and his best friend. "I-it was just a joke! I didn't know he'd take it seriously. And helloooo," he said in a singsong voice, dragging the o, "I'm drunk."

"Being drunk isn't an excuse. It should never be." Bucky said, leaning against the booth. He stood with much authority which you found enticing. But you digressed. "You still shouldn't have said it."

"And besides," you chimed in, "Parker hates it when people give me nicknames."

"Alright. I am sorry." He said. His eyes examined you and Bucky. "But how do you think he's going to react when he finds out his favorite person in the world is calling his best friend babydoll in bed?"

You were dumbstruck. Like it was some kind of question in a trivia game you didn't know the answer to. You couldn't think straight hearing the fries grinding in Nat's teeth, probably enjoying the drama unfolding in front of her eyes, Steve's fingers tapping on the wooden table and Nick's fast breathing.

You took a deep breath, and tried hard to ignore all these annoying sounds.

Sam was right. If Peter's reaction to the nickname was already bad, what more if he knew about the truth between you and Bucky? How could he possibly react to it?

"Look." You said, approaching Bucky, and grabbing his pinky with yours. For comfort. "We're still not ready to tell him but we will."

"Yes, soon." Bucky agreed.

"We're just finding the right time."

The truth was, you weren't any close to finding the "the right time." You had been racking our brains since last night on when to tell him. After setting on the when, then you’d move to the next phase of the plan which was how. Now that Peter had come back, you knew you needed to think and act fast before he found out about you and Bucky from other people.

"In the meantime," you said, grabbing your phone and finding Marco's name on my contact list, "let's just enjoy this party as it is. Steve threw this party for a reason and we are going to enjoy it. With or without Peter. No blabbing or hinting — yes I'm talking about you, Sam — about me and Bucky. No nicknames, no references. Nothing."

"You're asking all of us to keep your dirty little secret?" Nick asked. "While we're all drunk?"

"You and Sam are." Bucky chimed in, grabbing their beer bottles. "Steve and Nat aren't so I'm keeping a close eye on you two." He turned towards you, faces close in proximity, and gave you the bottles to stow away. "No more drinks for those two idiots."

Youbnodded and took the beers away from Sam and Nick which earned yoy a couple glares. Nick pouted afterwards like a baby, eyeing the beer bottles in your hand. "No, Nick. I'm cutting you off."

"Take his, not mine!" Nick whined, tilting his head towards Sam. "I didn't blab. This idiot did."

"I don't like your tone, man." Sam argued, mimicking Nick's state.

"One more drink and you'll blab. And please stop acting like kids." you sighed, walking towards the counter, stowing the beer bottles in their cases. Ypunlooked on your phone once again, called Marco and ordered three large pizza boxes — pepperoni, meat, and cheese pizza. All of Peter's favorites.

By the time the phone call ended, Bucky approached you with soft, doe-like eyes. The group resumed singing, Sam and Nick once again hogging the machine, clearly not taking your advice. Sam kept yelling at him to "cut the check!"

"How're you feeling, doll?" He asked, going under the pass through.

"Well, it's now a surprise party." You heaved a sigh, turning around to find a drink with much more of a kick to get you through the night. Your eyes found an unopened bottle of vodka in one of the cabinets. You didn't hesitate to grab it, along with a dry vermouth and some olives.

Bucky's eyes were on you the whole time, watching you making yourself a mean martini. Ypundidn't care if Steve saw you just now. Right now, you needed this. Just one glass to calm your nerves.

Younstirred the liquid with the olives in a stick before downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"As hot as that was," Bucky said, referring to how you drank the martini and how younmade it, "that's your last drink for the night. I'm not letting you get drunk for the wrong reasons. Once was enough."

You set down the glass on the counter with a thud. You lifted your hazel eyes to meet his blue ones. "You're paying for this, by the way."

He chuckled. "I know. I'll take care of it."

You looked cautiously at the door, dreading Peter. Knowing he won't probably be here for another hour, you approached Bucky, discreetly grabbing his hand. It took you a moment to put your thoughts into words.

"James, if we tell Peter, we need to be... sure. Of this. Of us." youbwatched your fingers brush against him on the wooden table.

"We've talked about this, y/n. I am." He reassured, walking closer this time. "It's a big risk but it's one I'm willing to take."

The idea of you jumping into this together, jumping into it with caution gave you a big relief. But right now, it wasn't just an idea anymore. It was real.

It was real in the way he snaked his arm around your waist, in the way he pulled you into a soft, deep kiss, and in the way his lips lingered on your lips. You pulled away, your bodies still close. At that moment, it was just the two of you. Never mind the loud karaoke machine, or the faint noises of the traffic outside, or Sam's out of tune rhythm.

It was just the two of you. In your own little afterglow.

"You're a big risk I'm willing to take." He whispered the words so slow that they swirled around you, pulling you even closer.

"And you're mine too." you smiled.

Several minutes have passed since your little conversation. Nat had teased you and Bucky of being whipped for each other. Of course Sam joined, and then Nick who chanted a little song he made, which, for the life of you, you couldn't even remember. The rest didn’t understand a word he was singing other than the words "Bucky" and "y/n."

Steve, on the other hand, had been silently drinking his beer and eating the whole time. You once gave him an are-you-okay look and he just nodded in response, giving you that classic tight-lipped smile of his.

Bucky was seated beside you, your thighs grazing each other in the little booth. Even accidental touches brought you comfort.

And isn't that just the best damn thing?

Peter had come in after the little performance Nick just gave, thankful that he didn't walk right in the middle of it. Behind him was a staff of Marco's who delivered the pizza boxes. Everyone hurrah'd. You grabbed your wallet from your back pocket but Steve stopped you, handing some bills to the guy.

"Steve, I could've gotten it." You said after the pizza guy left.

He shook his head, setting down his beer on the table. "It's your party, kid. I'm not letting you pay a single cent."

Nat scoffed. "She made herself a drink just earlier. You should charge her for that."

"Woah, y/n drank? That's new." Peter chimed in, squeezing himself in the booth, sitting at the edge. Between you were Sam and Nick. "What else did I miss?"

And so, you told him everything — well, not everything. Only from when Steve fired you (him lying about how why he even came up with it which Peter bought), to Bucky convincing you to take the project collaboration with Sam, to finally agreeing to it, to the whole meeting that happened just three days prior, and to how you’ll proceed from there. Youndidn't know if Nat and Steve wanted to reveal their little thing to Peter so you kept your mouth shut. Not wanting to do to them what you didn't want done to you and Bucky.

"My god," Peter commented, "that really was a long week! I'm quite disappointed I missed all of that!"

Oh, Parker. If only you knew the whole truth.

In return, he gave the gist of the whole corporate retreat. He finally told you where he and the rest of his team went but it was some place you couldn't even pronounce. Some cabin by the lake far away from Manhattan. He didn't bore you too much with the details. All you knew was that they went fishing, hiking and camping in the wild while team building. Along with the stories were photos of him and the place they were staying.

You frowned thinking it would've been fun if he were with friends. Like you guys.

The whole time, Bucky held your hand under the table or rubbed your thighs discreetly so as to not draw much attention.

Nat was an exception. That redhead saw everything, smirking once in a while. You gave her a discreet look from time to time.

Peter congratulated you, toasting his pizza with yours. Thankfully, he didn't need to drink tonight ("No drinks for me tonight or for the next few days").

"Wow, you really came out there like a new man!" you chuckled. He laughed right back but for just a mere moment. His expression changed while taking a bite of his pizza. You began to be nervous as to why this kept happening. Younneeded to go to the toilet.

Getting out of the booth was a chore. Nat, Steve and Bucky had to get up before you could even stand up. Youndidn't get why you didn't just stick the little tables together to make a long one.

You were in the toilet for a little while, leaking everything that youndrank tonight. Your head felt a bit dizzy but younmanaged to stand up afterwards. The voices of your friends were inaudible against the wooden walls. Except Nick's booming laugh.

Once you opened the door, you were greeted by Steve who was standing still, waiting for the toilet to become unoccupied.

"Sorry." you apologized. "Was I too long?"

"No." He replied shortly. You tried to walk past him but he caught your arm. Younlooked at his hand, confused. "Are you sure about this Bucky guy?"

"What?"

"This whole thing with Bucky. You can't actually be serious about this."

Taken aback, you wiggled out of his grasp, successfully yanking your arm out. "And who are you to tell me that?"

"You just met this guy." He answered. You still felt his grip on your arm by his stern tone.

"Weren't you the one who kicked me out of this very bar just for me to go to the roof to meet with this guy that I just met?"

"I thought you would've ended whatever thing you had going with him."

You scoffed. "You're not my father, Steve. I know you have this weird father or brother thing you have with me but I'm an adult. I can take care of my damn self."

"What about that night you were insanely drunk?"

"That... that was a one-time thing. A mistake is what it is!" younhissed. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Y/n, listen — "

"No." you cut him off. "You listen. Just because you and Nat haven't figured out whatever the hell is going on with you two, doesn't mean you can shit on my relationship. Before you comment on my dating life, I suggest you fix yours first. I'm happy. Bucky's happy. We're both happy. Please mind your own business."

Before you could even go back to the group, Steve called your name. Youngroaned, turning around. "What now?"

He sighed. "You're really going at great lengths for Bucky. Keeping secrets from Parker and all that. Is it really worth it?"

You stood there. Silent. Trying to find your voice.

"Well, I'm about to find out." You replied, turning around, hopefully for the last time. "Later, Steve."

You went back to the group and continued to chat with them. Steve got back after a few moments. His streak of silence was broken when Nat revealed something none of you had ever known before.

"Did you guys know that Steve was a journalist before he became a bar owner?" Nat said, looking at Steve.

You raised your eyebrows, the pizza caught in mid-air. A curiosity sparke, pleased with the new information you had just acquired.

"Steve Rogers? A journalist?" Peter scoffed unbelievably, leaning back against the seat. "No way. No, I don't buy it."

"Me neither." Nick butted in. "He doesn't look like the type. Nuh-uh."

"It's true!" Nat argued. "Tell them, Steve. Come on!"

Steve forced a chuckle, avoiding all your waiting gazes. "Yeah, it's true. I was. I used to work for the New York magazine."

"Why'd you stop?" Bucky's voice surprised you. It was the first time you’ve actually heard him talk to Steve first, except that time when you first introduced them.

Steve's eyes met Bucky's. A strange atmosphere picked up. You couldn't quite point out why. "I was sticking my nose up where it didn't belong." He replied. "I got fired because of that. Boss said I was too... intuitive."

"Isn't that what journalists should be exactly?" You asked.

"Too much of something is bad too, I guess." He shrugged, retreating back his eyes.

"Huh." You said, observing Steve. Eyes stolid. Bearing no emotions at all. "Well, look who's good at keeping secrets. Steve Rogers."

He hummed. "We all got secrets."

And then Nick revealed a ridiculous secret ("I hate the bank! I don't have a bank account!") that lightened up the mood.

The night went on after that, Steve avoiding any questions you had about this past life of his. Nick had the most ridiculous questions followed by Peter. But the night had to end as well. Thankfully, it ended sober.

Leaving Steve, Nat and Nick behind, Bucky, you and Peter headed up the stairs, the elevator ride filled with deafening silence. One you very much loathed. Between Bucky and you was Peter. It was killing you not to touch Bucky.

Bucky left, merely dropping you off in your apartment. He told you he'd come by tomorrow morning to get his stuff that was still in Peter's room.

It killed you not being able to kiss Bucky good night, watching his back getting smaller and disappearing behind the elevator. Peter closed the door after that.

"Boy, I'm tired." You yawned, stretching your arms up. "I'm gonna go ahead. It's nice to have you back, Parker."

Before you could even go to your room and have a nice sleep, Peter called for your name. You lazily replied.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you do it, y/n?"

Confused, you turned around, meeting his gaze. "What?"

"The project with Sam." He said, walking towards you. His footsteps were heavy in each step. As heavy as his voice was becoming. "Bucky convinced you. Why'd you say yes?"

Trepidation filled your body. A kind of weakness you loathed. But you tried hard to stand on your ground, masking your anxiousness.

The noises outside the apartment, out on the streets mirrored the voices in your head.

"It was a big business opportunity." you found your voice. "A collaboration. And I didn't have much choice knowing that I was going to get fired."

But it seemed like Peter chose not to listen. "For years, I have been trying to get you to work with me. Years, y/n. Years." He sighed in exasperation. His eyes were bloodshot, tears badly wanting to escape. "Why couldn't you have said yes to me?"

His last words were so strong and sharp like a knife piercing right through your flesh, leaving you to bleed out in the open. You opened your mouth to speak, to say something, to say that you were sorry but unfortunately, no words came out. Peter breathed, releasing his strong gaze. "Good night, y/n."

He left you standing there in the middle of the room, realizing now that it would be harder to tell him about you and Bucky. Once you finally had the energy to carry your weight towards your room, you treaded towards it slowly and opened the door, only to be met by a soft knock on your window.

You nearly jumped at the sight outside the window.

"Jesus, Bucky!" you hissed, immediately closing the door behind. You opened the window and let him inside, closing it afterwards. "How did you get there?"

He was panting, trying to catch his breath. "Fire escape."

"It's freezing cold outside." you scolded, grabbing him your blanket and wrapping it around his huge figure.

"I know." he replied. "Maybe you can warm me up." A cheeky smile started to play on his lips as he approached you.

You giggled. "Bucky, not now."

"I'm sorry, doll. I just couldn't leave without a good night kiss."

My heart melted at his words. You placed your hand on his jaw and pecked his lips. He pulled you in closer. You smiled in the kiss.

"Neither can I."

You kissed a little bit more, a bit more passion this time, the window framing you perfectly in the nighttime.

You pulled away, feeling a bit guilty about Peter in his room.

"We need to talk, James." You said, breaking what was a lovely atmosphere. You’ve already had two confrontations today. What was another one?

You sat on the bed and patted the space beside you. Bucky frowned, sitting beside you. "What's wrong?"

"Peter's kind of upset with me accepting your offer to work with Sam." you went straight to the point. "He's been trying to get me to work with him in his company he works at ever since he got the job but I've always declined. And now, I think he's mad or even jealous that I said yes to you. God, you should've seen him, Buck. His eyes were so wide, and red. I've never seen him like that. It didn't look like Peter at all."

It took him quite a while before he spoke. "Do you regret taking up the offer?"

"What, heavens no!" You answered. "Bucky, this has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me. You're one of them too, of course." You said, seeing his doe-like eyes once more. "I'm just getting a bit more scared now. What if there is no right time for us to tell him? What then?"

He clasped your hands with his large ones, making you stop your trembling. You didn't even notice your hands shaking until now. "There will be a right time, y/n. Right now, we just have to keep this our little secret for a while until we can tell him."

"What happens when he doesn't approve of this?" You started to ramble on once more. "Of us? What happens then?"

"Sweetheart, you don't know what's going to happen but we'll make it work."

You didn't respond. You just kept staring at your joined hands.

"I promise." He added.

You finally nodded, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Okay."

"Now, if it's okay with you." He moved a little bit closer, kissing your cheek. "I can spend the night here." Another on the other. "With you." then on your lips.

"Peter's in the other room." you whispered in the kiss, amazed at how the mood changed so quickly.

"That's why I'm gonna need you to be quiet, babydoll."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes story #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #tY 4 ALL D SUPPORT ILY ALL

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moonchildsaurora · 4 years ago

Text

Darling, Dance for Me?

✤ sniper!San x female exotic dancer!reader ✤ genre: Mafia AU // 30% fluff, 60% spice, 10% platonic flirting with Woo ✤ t/w: mentions of guns/shooting, mentions of alcohol, mature clubbing themes, highly suggestive in the second half (but not smut), rated M ✤ count: 2k+

a/n - this was suppose to be for Valentine’s Day but, oh well! Enjoy some spice with one pink haired Sannie, coz we all know even though he looks soft. . . .he’s just a devil in disguise. This is probs my most suggestive writing till date as well, it was fun and am looking forward to writing more spice in the future hehet 💙

✛ play these vibes: BOBBY - ‘DeViL’, Sunmi - ‘Black Pearl’, Kai - ‘Mmmh’ ✛

“Mother told me, never to dance with the devil, So I danced for him instead.”

Cherry rouge.

Not your usual go-to, but a special occasion calls for some special exceptions. And damn did you look like fine wine tonight. Giving your styled curls another spritz of hair spray, you took one last inspection in your vanity mirror.

Work was throwing a Valentine’s event and thus you found yourself having to dig through the back of your wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for tonight. Bold burgundy lace hugged tightly around your body replacing the mellower neutral tones you’d wear on any other night. Your roommate had even shoved a pair of thigh highs and heels on you to match the garter.

And cherry lips to bring the whole look together.

“You’ll thank me later! Hell everyone in the club would, for presenting god’s gift to them!”

You had laughed at her supportive enthusiasm, waving her away with embarrassment though you greatly appreciated the pre-shift hype.

When you headed for the kitchen, you could hear the TV in the lounge and glanced to see your roommate watching the evening news. She turned to call out for you but stopped mid-way upon realising you were already out of your room.

“Damn girl…you’ll sure be breaking hearts tonight with that fit!!” she yelled-gasped, brows waggling for a cheeky added effect.

“Well that’s no good. Dancers are supposed to be Cupids of the night, maybe they should’ve given me Aphrodite instead.”

A smile tugged on your lips as you saw your roommate falling back on the sofa snickering. Grabbing the bottle of Ten to One from what you both named ‘The Life Juice’ shelf, you started to fill your rose gold hip flask with the white rum. The debonair bartender at the club would usually be more than happy to concoct you a cup of much-needed poison to get you through the night. However, on such a busy event, you might not even have time to swing by the bar – so plan B was in order.

Also, whoever thought to invent garter pouches was a genius in your eyes. The amount of times you had snuck in a sip or two up on the podium without missing a beat or being noticed had to be one of your greatest feat till date.

Except maybe for the one who bought said pouch and flask for you. Seeing the shadow of their pleased smirk whenever you donned on something from them never failed to coax the goosebumps across your skin. Perhaps that garnet embellished choker would be the icing on the cake then. You made a mental note to put that on before you headed out.

“Hey honey…”

The tone of your roommate turned a little more serious.

“On the news just then, another one of those random sniper attacks happened along Soleil Street. Shit, that’s only two streets away from the club.”

The city has gotten used to such news every now and then. All leads of the serial sniper always went cold, not that they left behind any substantial traces for the authorities to begin with.

The law wasn’t the only ruling force in the area. Everyone knew that.

So long as one didn’t attract the wrong attention, they’d be free to go about their business.

“I’m dropping you off, are you ready to go?”

“Wait! It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

Your roommate gave you a look before swiping her car keys from the counter. “What would trouble me is not knowing whether you’ve made it to work and back safely. Now c’mon, the night is awaiting that cute booty of yours!”

“Yes mum.”

How lucky were you to have an angel for a roommate?

“Give me a heads up if you intend to bring anyone home tonight yeah? I’ll be sure to vacate the apartment before any sinning begins here.”

Or not.

A euphoric buzz filled every corner of the club tonight. Whether it was due to the special occasion or not, everyone was getting drunk off the atmosphere. The bar was a never-ending fountain of liquid luck and smoke veiled corners of the venue where patrons dealt cards and wits. A sea of bodies dominated the dancefloor, curling around one another in ecstasy as the thumping bass set the rhythm for them.

The centre podium was where the real magic unfurled.

Up on there, you felt powerful. Up on there, was your domain to rule.

Long have you enticed all those who returned back to ‘The Blue Butterfly’. So close, yet so far, for most could only have the visual satisfaction. Of watching you, along with your fellow dancers weave around golden poles and offer hands to those who sat in plush velvet chairs closest to the podium. Only to sashay away the last minute.

How bees are drawn to nectar and moths to light, the people keep coming back.

Tonight the club was decked out in a more sensual feel to fit the Valentine’s vibe. Long drapes of rose silk hung around the podium and you used those to accentuate the flow and movement of your body curves. The silks caressed the bare skin not hidden underneath your outfit and you pretended to take shy peeks around the fabrics at the audience. Sending a lucky wink or flying kiss their way.

In the middle of a mid-air twirl, you saw a familiar figure heading towards your side of the podium. You slowly lowered yourself back down to the floor, using your legs to wrap around the silks as leverage. Not missing the opportunity to be playful – you mimed shooting an arrow towards the club’s top croupier.

Wooyoung instantly clutched his heart with his hand that wasn’t occupied with holding one of Mingi’s own cocktail infusion. Letting out a hearty giggle, you slid over the podium floors to the edge where Wooyoung had propped himself up on.

“Don’t you look simply irresistible?” he crooned at you.

You could’ve said the exact same for him. All fitted to a tee in Givenchy with a classic choker that demanded attention for prominent collarbones.

“Now, how may I be of service to you tonight handsome?” you spoke over the music.

The youthful charmer leaned in towards you, shaking dark wavy strands out of his eyes. Eyeing his cotton candy pink drink, you ducked your head and took a few sips from the straw before Wooyoung drew it away. It tasted vaguely like pink lemonade with hints of vodka and vanilla.

“Ah ah, this isn’t for you poppet. Besides…” he tipped your chin back up with two fingers, “…wouldn’t want to waste your appetite before your main course tonight, would we?”

That made you perk right up.

“V.I.P Room Aurora has kindly requested for you. Drinks have already been sent up and the room’s been booked for the whole night.”

Not that booking was really needed since it was your room. It was just for formality.

Wooyoung helped you off the podium and smoothly guided you through the crowd, placing you in front of him so as to avoid being grabbed by uninvited hands from behind. You both stopped at the foot of the polished glass stairs that led up to the V.I.P guest rooms.

“Off you go now! Oh and try not to make too much of a mess for our cleaners, they really ought to get a pay rise from some of the things they’ve witnessed in those rooms.”

You would’ve kicked Wooyoung for his brazen tongue, but you did well to remind yourself that would be rather impudent on your part. Whilst you have a jovial bond with him, it still doesn’t erase his high-standing status within the inner circle. You knew better than to cross that line of respect.

“Won’t make any promises I can’t keep, Jung!”

You left him with a soft pat on his cheek and ascended towards your utopia that awaited.

Swinging the golden embossed doors open, sultry melodious tune of a saxophone greeted you. Like molten dark chocolate, it was rich and tantalizing. The crystalline blue hue of the room’s lighting was fitting for the slow jazzy blues.

A spacious circular sofa curved around a glass table in the centre, providing a perfect view of the bejewelled podium. The wide one-way windows were especially designed for privacy. You could spectate over almost the whole club below, something you quite enjoyed during your breaks. The countless types of people that you observed stepping into your world; from the timid newcomers to the seasoned hedonists and the stories they brought with them of their journey to ‘The Blue Butterfly’.

But there was no time for that tonight. Not when you see broad sculptured shoulders that your hands have meticulously memorised the planes of – right in front of you.

Still clad in his all-black incognito leather fit, you couldn’t help but stay by the door to appreciate his form. A huge bouquet of ivory and deep red roses sat on the glass table with an open box of what you suspected were chocolates inside. A loud pop of the champagne bottle went off. You bit your lips when you saw his toned arms flex as he gripped the bottle in one hand and tipped a stream of golden bubbles into two flute glasses in the other.

As the music picked up, you decided it was time to make your presence known. Walking with confident steps over the velveteen carpet you went to wrap your arms around his cinched waist. Resting your cheek on the cool leather vest of his back, you took his scent in.

Smoke and city musk lingered around.

You figured he must’ve come straight from his assignment. What better reason to use than to spoil him extra as post-work relaxation? His hand came up to wrap around yours and you felt the dancing of lips leaving petal kisses across your knuckles.

“You stink…” you mumbled lightly against his back.

San let out a low chuckle before setting the champagne bottle down and turning around to snake both arms around you. Calloused hands from the years of gripping guns instead of supple flesh imprinted their warm touch into your skin.

“Oh? Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping me freshen up, right Princess?”

“San!” you squealed when you felt him deliberately rub sweat against your neck before attacking it with more love bites.

“You taste like sweet temptation.”

You arched your neck out of habit when you felt his tongue swipe across it. Teeth bit down lightly around the garnet choker San bought for you for Christmas.

When you felt hands travelling down west towards your garter, you gave San a light shove backwards to the sofa.

“Not so fast, Choi.”

His predatory feline eyes took its time to rake down your body, committing every inch to memory. You made a show of bending over to grab the two champagne flutes off the table, the sharp intake of breath behind you made you preen with pride. You took your seat on your throne, not at all surprised to feel how much pent-up tension San had through the tight leather.

Clink. A toast made for the love of two.

“Happy Valentine’s, darling.”

“Thank you, San. You sure know how to spoil a lady don’t you?”

“Only the one who’s sniped right through my heart.”

Oh the irony.

You smiled when he pulled you close and claimed a proper kiss, whispering a, “You sap,” against his wind-chapped lips. Tasting the fruit acidity from the golden bubbles as you both exchanged kitten licks.

San’s rouge-stained lips chased after yours when you broke off from the kiss to place your champagne flute back down on the table. Hands anchoring your hips in place as you reached to pluck a couverture chocolate-covered strawberry from the box. Turning back round to San, your lips formed a small pout noticing that his freshly dyed hair was still hidden underneath his cap.

He let you discard it behind the sofa and you could’ve sworn he purred with satisfaction when you ran your hands through his cotton candy pink strands. Hands gave your bottom a firm squeeze and San begun to run his fingers along the hem of your lace. The husky vocals from the record player drifted back, interlacing with the saxophone.

That was your cue.

“Eyes on me.”

You held San’s gaze, fire reflecting fire. The strawberry gets slipped past the seams of his lips and all the while San chews intently, his eyes never wavered. He’s got his precious pearl all to himself, just the way he loves it. And you have the city’s most lethal hitman watching your back from dawn to dusk. San was the dangerous game you played, only to win the safest love.

“Darling, won’t you please dance for me?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

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