#and somehow it felt like? SUCH a rough winter? and I handled it well but everything feels so heavy
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#You know what’s weird?#in a way I am more steady in myself than I have ever been. I see my worth rather than pretend I see my worth but actually don’t#I see where all my shit stems from in a way I never used to. I talk about it in a communicative way I was never able to before#like all of it is lining Up and somehow? I also feel worse?#I don’t know if it’s because I’m just more aware now and also more capable of changing my habits or whatever or if it’s just less repressed#but like. been having seasonal affective disorder since I was eight probably and even before but then you didn’t know#and I didn’t put the pieces together until. what. 2014? 2015? I didn’t know it had a name#and id always count it a good winter if I hadn’t disassociated at all. that was the goal.#now 2022 is over and the months where id disassociate are also over (it always gets easier for me come January)#and I made it through without disassociating! that’s a huge win right! right? but …..#and somehow it felt like? SUCH a rough winter? and I handled it well but everything feels so heavy#and I know it’s not worse than prior years. I do. but it doesn’t FEEL like that#perhaps that’s because of everhthing that happened in December and my falling out with my dad and my owning up to how deep my trauma runs#instead of passing it off as ‘haha yeah some things were rough and winter sucks BUT I AM SO CHIPPER AND GOOD AND UPBEAT HA!’#but honestly looking at it just. is a lot. and logistically I know I genuinely am the best version of myself currently#but 2014 me was funner thinner and wilder and she was also COMPLETELY unhinged and I know I shouldn’t want that version of me back#but I’m constantly comparing current me to her?????? as if she was the ultimate goal#I know when March comes and we’re back at the summer clock I’ll have forgotten how heavy I felt now#but whew…………….. whew it’s a lot#also completely being honest with yourself about jn how many areas your anxiety is Fucking debilitating sometimes#really sucks. it sucks. I feel so raw and vulnerable and I want to stop fixing things and just live#OH THAT TOO my roommate is Living It Up and I used to be able to keep up with her when we were in uni and now I can’t and that just#makes it feel even more like i regressed. I hate it. and again I Know myself now in a way I didn’t then and that’s worth so much#but ugh!!! ugh. and also I HATE that it feels like all I’ve done since November is complain but it’s been. Well. extraordinarily rough#I haven’t even told the internet any of it and even my friends know the minimum but. sigh. SIGH.#just sucks to see where your everything comes from. you know?
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Poltergeist Epilogue 1
Natsume: By the wAY, why have you been painting on that canvas for so loNG?
Scenario Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Mikejima Madara, Narukami Arashi, Sakasaki Natsume, Aoba Tsumugi
<A few days later, at the festival event held at Dancing Cranes Home.>
Madara: [HAHAHA! A RIOTOUS MYRIAD OF COLOURFUL FLOWERS! FIERY BLOOMS ARE ABOUT TO COVER THE NIGHT SKY!
LOOK UP, CHILDREN! SEE THAT EVEN IN THIS WORLD, FLAMES OF SUCH SURPASSING BEAUTY CAN EXIST AS WELL!]
Tsumugi: Seriously?! Setting off fireworks in front of children with fire-related trauma is the most thoughtless thing I’ve ever heard of. Do you not even have the smallest shred of empathy at all?
Natsume: That’s a topic you have no right to judge others oN, Senpai. BesidES, the children appear excited and are unexpectedly enjoying the shOW.
After aLL, even if someone hates bell peppers with all their heaRT, they'll think them delicious when wrapped in tasty meAT; and carrots one usually avoids like the plague will be welcomed happily when baked into a sweet caKE.
The children’s hearts and psyches seem strong and resilient enough to handle this muCH, at leaST.
HowevER, this is a brutally rough approach to theraPY. The worst case scenario could have resulted in all the children breaking down into hysterical tears and the festival being cancelED.
Madara: Hahaha. It’s true, watching the show for too long might cause them discomfort, so I did make sure not to overdo it. However, it just isn’t a festival without fireworks, you knowww——
And we should try everything we can to lift the gloom from the children’s hearts, even if just by a little, riiight?
Arashi: That's right. We’re nothing more than temporary caretakers at Dancing Cranes Home, not meant to make a deep impact in the children’s lives, but even so—
Even if we’re just pretending or this is all just a facade, at this moment, we are the children’s guardians too.
I want to help relieve their suffering somehow, even if what we do has only the tiniest effect.
Arashi: ——When I was a child a lo~ng time ago, I was suffering too—
But because I was a child at the time, I didn't realise I was in pain.
It was like I was a land animal, born by mistake in the middle of the sea. And while I believed I was living the same kind of life like everyone else, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was choking and gasping for air.
It wasn’t until I began working as a child model and started comparing myself with other children——
That I realised for the first time how pitiful a child I had been.
That’s when I started to fall apart. Even though I had been absolutely fine up to that point—
With the sudden realisation of my situation, everything became overwhelming, suffocating, and terrifying.
My parents—my family—felt absolutely no interest in me at all. All of them prioritised their own lives over mine, neglecting me entirely.
But, because they justified it all saying it was done for my sake, insisting it was the “cool” way to live—
And because I didn’t know any better, I believed everything they said.
Tsumugi: … … … It must have been hard, not receiving the love you needed from your family, huh?
Arashi: Exactly. Isn’t love supposed to be something parents give to their children without question, like regular meals or a warm bed to sleep in?
Arashi: But for me, I didn’t get any of that—or at least, I wasn’t given enough of it. That’s why I fled that home, desperately seeking out whatever it was I was missing—
But here’s the kicker—I’d no idea what I was even looking for, because my parents had never shown me what that something was.
Arashi: But then… someone came along and saved me.
He didn’t do anything extraordinary. He just, in the most ordinary way, showered me with the things my dazzling family couldn’t be bothered to do for me—
He cared for me, showed concern when I was struggling, and actually listened attentively to me when I vented about my troubles.
He saw me as a person, recognised me frankly, and treated me as an equal.
It was like he truly saw me—the real me—who was physically there yet feeling like I didn’t exist for anyone at all (2)—
And because of him, the pain I carried was eased just a little—
And for the very first time, it felt like I could actually breathe.
He brought into my life the air I so desperately craved—the kind everyone else seems to get from their parents without fail. It was like one of those fairy tales, where the prince brings the princess back to life with a kiss.
That's the reason why I still love everything about that person, to this very day.
Arashi: And that's also why…
I want to be that person for the children who are hurting like I was——just like what he was to me.
Please don’t get me wrong, okay? I'm not doing this for you, Mama. I’m doing this purely for me.
Madara: Yup, I'm totally cool with thaaat. We're not comrades from the same Unit; we’re just colleagues who happen to work in the same place.
However, if we’re aiming for the same goal, we should be able to join forces and work together.
That’s something I’ve learned from my time in Double Face.
Arashi: Fufufu~. Looks like Mama has achieved some personal growth too, huh? Well done, good job ♪
Madara: Hmmm? And who exactly are you to be making that comment to me?
Natsume: FufuFU. WeLL, in any caSE, Mikejima-senpai is the star of this shOW—or at leaST, officialLY, anywAY. That’s why we will be following Senpai’s leAD—
Or rathER—we’ll be providing support so you can achieve whatever it is you’re aiming fOR.
The kitten’s request to get to the bottom of what happened to her frieND, NEGI-chan, was completed pretty satisfactoriLY, if I might say sO—
And since I’m pleased with how things turned oUT, I’ll stick around a while longer to help you out as a special serviCE.
After aLL, I’m a childcare worker at Dancing Cranes Home tOO. I’ve got obligations and responsibilities to this place as weLL.
Tsumugi: Exactly. We’re all part of NEW DIMENSION, and that alone is reason enough for us to support one another, don’t you think?
Madara: Huh? NEW DIMEN—… … Ohhh, that’s NEWDI’s official name, isn’t it? We’ve been using the shortened name so often that I’ve forgotten that’s what we’re reeeally called!
Tsumugi: Oh, come on. The bar of your loyalty is set so low, I’m honestly impressed, instead.
Natsume: WeLL, that doesn’t really matTER, does iT? We might be the smallest and weakest of the four big agencIES, but that’s precisely why we’re free from the various pressures and constraints imposed by the higher-uPS—
Which allows our idols the freedom to do as they please and achieve the goals they set for themselVES.
That’s a unique advantage given to us by our agenCY, wouldn’t you agrEE?
Tsumugi: Indeed, that’s true. I might be tooting my own horn here, but our agency truly is a great place, isn’t it?
Mikejima-kun, Narukami-kun, if you both felt the same way too, nothing would make me happier as Vice-President!
Madara: HAHAHA! Well, I guess after being here for so long, I can’t help but grow quite fond of our agency, too~.
Anyway! This isn’t the time for leisurely chit-chatting, riiight? Our time in this place is running out.
Let's proceed to the final act of our project: the festival.
Natsume: Just like we plannED, rigHT? The staff here gave us free rein over the conteNT, so we came up with the ideas togethER.
By the wAY, why have you been painting on that canvas for so loNG?
Madara: Nope, I’m not painting, I’m restoring it. I’ve already finished what you’d call the main work a while ago; I’m just putting the final touches on it now.
Tsumugi: Wow! You’re really talented, Mikejima-kun~! You can do just about anything, can’t you?
Madara: Umu… … Look, Natsume-san. You were there with me when I found it, weren’t you? This is the large painting that had been discarded like garbage.
The painting itself isn’t anything remarkable; it’s just an ordinary piece that probably wouldn’t sell for much—
And of course, there’s no secret code hidden in it like you’d see in the movies.
However, to the children of Dancing Cranes Home, this painting definitely meant a great deal to them—
Because this painting was always hanging in NEGI-san’s room, she who tragically died in the fire.
Arashi: Yes, that's right. Somehow, it was protected under a collapsed wall and miraculously survived the blaze.
Since it remained intact against all odds, the children couldn't bear to see it being thrown away with the trash—
Because to them, that painting was inseparable from the memory of their beloved friend, NEGI-chan—
Forever shining brightly together in their memories.
—————-To be continued——————
Chapter 17 / Epilogue 2
Translator’s Notes:
Arashi has 2 parents and an older brother. The person who helped Arashi was Kunugi Akiomi. You can read about how they first met in the Scout story "Lookback: Portrait".
This could be a reference to a Moomin story about a little girl, Ninny, who became invisible because she was unloved, and after being cared for by Moomin, turned visible again.
This isn’t proofed, so if you spot any mistakes, please DM me.
#ensemble stars#enstars tl#mikejima madara#mam#new color#poltergeist#sakasaki natsume#aoba tsumugi#narukami arashi#Kunugi Akiomi mention
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Winter Solstice Writing Event!
Thank you @cuckoo-on-a-string for making this event and letting me take part this year!
Okay, so I've written a small, albeit slightly confusing, short from my original work! It's quite a personal piece, I'm basically using a self-insert here lol to somehow write away my stress as a med student- as well as toying with a new character concept.
For context, the short is set after a disaster involving Cain and a group of women who have been instructed by Satan to destroy Cain. However, one of these women ended up betraying the group, allowing Cain to massacre them, as she couldn't bring herself to kill her own son (I'm sure you can guess who this woman is now lol).
Excuse the grammar mishaps and I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Strong language, mentions of struggling mental health and violence.
“So, how have you been settling in?”
Ah, she had spoken the sacred words and now Nasrin had to make the difficult decision of whether it was appropriate to answer honestly, precisely measure the exact extent of honesty or just simply lie.
They sat opposite each other, like opponents in a heated game of chess. Except, instead of ornate pieces on a very posh chequered board, between Nasrin and her tutor was a desk with two steaming cups of tea and a small plate of biscuits, delicately placed in an appealing pile, calling out for the girl to grab them by the fistful and shove them down her mouth. She was actually starving, having skipped breakfast to make it to this meeting. Nasrin had banked on her internal clock waking her up in time once she switched her alarm off, except that hadn’t happened and the poor girl had woken up with only ten minutes to get out the door and to her module review.
“Good!” She smiled, crossing one leg over the other. “Yeah, good. Been settling in well.”
“That’s great to hear. I know it can be difficult and a big change. I’m assuming you came straight from secondary school, right? No gap year?”
She nodded.
“How have you been handling the workload?”
“It’s a lot but I’m coping.”
“Yeah. It’s a big jump, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” she replied, her cheeks growing tired from keeping that polite smile on her face.
Nasrin could feel something rising in her. This year had been rough. Absolutely rough. What was supposed to be a fresh start, had began with tears, trauma and madness. Her blank slate had been tainted… with the literal Mark of Cain.
The girl couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was in danger. It had finished. The Incident. And yet, Nasrin felt she was still somehow there. She had moved to a different universe, to a different part of the country, to the university of her dreams, doing a degree she had wanted to do for years, and still, she was back there.
Dried blood had made her clothes stiff. Her muscles had burned, aching, screaming for her to just give up. She had been on the ground, helpless, cut down by his men. As she looked up, through the eyeholes of her mask, a layer of sweat building on her face, Nasrin watched as he took one of the others by her hair, dragging her across the floor. The amber glow of dying fires surrounded them, along with screams. The rolling flames were reflected in her glossy eyes, adrenaline soaring through her, but doing little, apart from making her pulse pound in her ears.
He was there mere metres from her, open, no guards around him, dragging Nasrin’s comrade like she was naught but a heavy sack. He had a limp thanks to that huge gash in his thigh, a gift from Nasrin herself, when she had managed to get close enough.
Cain.
There had been a plan. A nice, simple plan. Everything had been accounted for: all possibilities apart from betrayal. The one who they had all looked up to couldn’t bring herself to do what needed to be done.
Nasrin remembered it all too well. The hole. The tear in space-time. Someone giving word to Cain and his men. The perfect window for revenge.
What should have been ‘detain and defeat’ became a fight for their lives.
Pick it up!
“What?” she had whispered.
Pick it up!
A disembodied voice growled in her head.
The sword! The sword is there! Pick it up!
Pick it up!
Pick it up!
Pick it up!
It demanded with heavy disdain for her. She was pathetic, writhing in her own blood, like a maggot in filth. Helpless. Weak. Beaten.
You’re supposed to be strong! You’re supposed to cope! Pick. It. Up.
She had pushed herself off the ground with all the strength she had. Then, she crawled forward, feeling around for whatever weapon that voice was hinting at. Once it was within arm’s reach, her fingers curled around the hilt and-
Now, lie.
Suddenly, Nasrin was back in the room, under flickering white ceiling light, with her tutor in front of her, staring at her with mild concern.
“Nasrin?” the woman asked, tilting her head to one side, “You alright, dear? You look a bit pallid.”
Lie.
“I’m fine. Just recovering from fresher’s flu, you know how it is,” Nasrin chuckled nervously.
“Oh of course! Always something going around. Just looking at your self-reflection, you mentioned you had anxiety, how have you been finding coping with that?”
This was probably a good opportunity to find out where the counselling services were for healthcare students, but the girl’s eyes fell on the clock on the wall behind her tutor. Was it even right to open this Pandora’s box right at the tail-end of their meeting? Drop a massive bomb on her tutor, admit she was actually not doing alright and then piss off back to her accommodation?
Lie.
He thought she should lie. The stupid, overbearing eldritch fuckwit in the back of her mind. He was one to bloody talk, being so-called all-powerful and all-knowing and yet being completely blindsided by The Incident and Cain’s subsequent rampage.
At the same time, though, a part of Nasrin that wasn’t governed by the literal Devil, also thought it best to just lie and take her leave. It was embarrassing, coming into a degree and a job that you knew damn well was stressful as all hell and having a condition which makes you struggle with stress. She was a medical student for crying out loud! How would it look if a medical student, a future doctor, was riddled with anxiety?
Furthermore, why the fuck was she doing a damn medical degree when her part-time job was being a literal acolyte of Satan?!
What was she doing here?
And how had she not broken down already?
You’re supposed to be strong.
Ah, that was it.
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03/07 RaphVon - [🎁] our muses exchange holiday gifts
| SEND AN EMOJI FOR A STARTER ! ↳ winter season & holiday based
Leave it to Mikey to somehow get Von and Don to agree to the baby shower idea. But hey did go all out even though at some point it seemed he forgot that it was meant for the mother seeing how the banned had to have Don's nah scribbled out and replaced by Von's. Idiot. Was Raphael's main thought as he been hanging back during most of this thing. Mikey manged to pull a few of the invited parties into the games which just seemed dumb to Raphael. He purposely said 'baby' near the start and gave his pin away to whoever was nearest to him and sort of hung towards the back of it all. The baby shower wasn't really his thing.
When he noticed Von as some point seem to take a moment to rest well Mikey had another of his game ready to start up. Raphael took it as a opening. As he made his way to sit beside Von. Holding a gift bag near his side just enough to keep it from Von's sight as he joined her. "Hey least Mikey invited you to your own baby shower in the end 'ight?" He smirks a little her way paying a second to make sure Von was fine. Offering to help her sit down if she needed it. But of course like Raph expected she was handling the whole being pregnant thing very well. But that was Yvonne for you stubborn to the bone.
Raphael's attention turned back to the party they were currently bobbing for pacifiers everyone Mikey got to go along with it had a bowl of water before them and had their hands set behind their backs. The goal was who ever got all three in their own bowls first won and Mikey manged to capture all of his before anyone else. He could just feel the flash backs to the Battle Nexus showing before his vision. Great that was going to be something to look forward too, man he is for sure staying with Casey tonight after this. "Though somehow I 'hink this turned into more for Mikey than either of youes." Raph points out.
Which took him back to his reasoning of sitting beside her now, away from everyone else, he knows they all had a gift to give for the baby coming. They were sure of the gender yet but a baby still needed anything they could offer. Or in some cases make. It was a sort of secret and not a secret. In that no one under any circumstances was to ever mention the fact that Raphael knew how to knit. But it wasn't like no one knew about him able to do so. Splinter had had him take up the habit in an effort to help Raphael with that ever burning flame the fueled his temper. And he found comfort in the repeated action. Splinter was the first to ever receive a gift made by Raph. And slowly everyone did. Sure it wasn't really for Von but thats how these worked the gift was to the mother for the baby. Von was just much more a risky gamble because she liked to push that whole deal when it came to fact about Raphael.
He still grabbed at the gift bag and held it out in front of her. Looking far off to the side not even towards the party, selecting a random brick in the wall to focus his gaze on to. "yeah I know were doin' gifts at the end but 'm gonna try ditch soon as I can. So wanna make sure you get 'his is all."
Raphael expresses only turning to face her again when he felt the weight of the bag leave his own hand. Slightly peering over to watch her look into the paper shopping bag, Peering in and it was clear to see right away that there was a purple knitted blanket in there. Bands of two shades purple and near the top right corner was a small fish done in a even dark shade of color. It was clear this had taken longer and more time to make compared to most of the other knitted gifts Raphael had ever given. Sort of outing a few more thing about this little hobby of the rough and gruff turtle. It was thanks to some help, outside help from a Ms. Morrison that he may have learned a bit more he could do.
Raphael wouldn't explain it but he did put a lot of thought into the look of the blanket he know both Don and Von had a liking for the color purple so course it was going to be those similar shades they both wore. The fish in their own shade of purple. Part of him wanted to try and make it look like the usual silhouette look of Ariel from the move Don just loved to death. But it had proved to be too hard for him to really do at the time. Besides? who was to say their kid would also like the movie? Pretty sure they would one way or another actually. So a fish seemed fitting in the end. Von like to sit out by the docks same as Raph after all and it tied back to the sea that Donnie loved and wanted to explore the depths of. Raphael felt it worked. And made sense and glared a dagger at Casey every time he sat down to work on it at the apartment. Or when he tried to ask for his partners thought about it because of how much thought he was expressing was going in towards the creation.
"I see that look on your face Von." Not really she was on his right side after all but he didn't need to be actively looking at her to know she was in fact making some sort of expression that would likely annoy him right now. "Kid needs a blanket 'ight? well should get a new one and not 'ike we can really come by that so easy." Okay sure Casey or April could help with that but then it was more a gift from Casey or April and not Raphael. Which is why he opted to making one himself. After all he knew how to do it.
Raphael finally sighs and givens in feeling better to get it over with as he twists a little to better face her. "What?" He says it like a warning, it was pointless Von was never really deterred but the tough act. Didn't stop the red banded turtle from giving it though. Even if he knew she wouldn't be thrown off by it. "Get it over wit' ya ya Raph made a blanket for the baby whatever ain't a big deal." He says doing his best to keep to his act. "Knew I shoulda jus' left with out givin' it to you personally." yeah right he wanted it know he had done it even if it meant dealing with this now.
#muse| hamato raphael#madamkezzie#aflockoffeathers#[ ones trash is another's treasure -aflockoffeathers ]#[07 verse]#meme answer#ic rpely#winter season & holiday meme#((shhhh ignore this was a winter/Christmas thing still works uwu))#((yes the small fish is in fact why he calls ariel a guppie later uwu))
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Out of a Trillion
gif credit: @bestintheparsec
Part Fifteen of the Rough Day Series
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 12.6K
Warnings: uhhhh so there is a bit of SMUT in this one, not too much and I imagine if you’ve made it this far then that won’t be too big of a deal LMFAOOO uh some ANGST and my attempt at HURT/COMFORT and also violence/blood/injury description, so look out for that!
A/N: I started writing this before the season finale aired and I know we all want a bit of goodness and softness after it, but hopefully this will be okay! I’ll start working on the next part tonight
***
Everything changes and yet somehow nothing does.
From that point on, it’s like… like you’re both just suspended in this perpetual state of wondering, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know he said it’s up to you, but what the fuck? Look whenever you want? That’s way too much fucking pressure, he’s out of his mind. You’re not equipped to handle that, who does he think you are? Someone that can just… decide things?
And it’s not like you’re afraid of the commitment, or that you don’t want to look. You do, but every single time a moment comes, it just never… feels right. You don’t know what you’re waiting for, what feeling or meaning you’re expecting to magically present itself to you, but you can’t shake the idea that there should be more to it than just randomly deciding to open your eyes at some point, shouldn’t there? Din said there was no ceremony, nothing fancy, and he gave you permission to look because he said he’s not allowed to ask outright, whatever that means. It’s a standing offer because you guess he isn’t allowed to prompt it for some reason, but unfortunately, that leaves you in just about the shittiest position possible. Now everything falls to you—initiation, execution, and consequence—and Maker knows you’ve never been that great making decisions under pressure.
But you do want to look. Sort of.
Sort of. Because… well, this probably won’t make that much sense, but you’re afraid. Mostly for him. What if he’s making a mistake? It sounds stupid, but you’re afraid of what this means for him, the sheer perpetuity of this decision he’s now expecting you to make for the both of you. This isn’t your creed, not yet, and you feel like there’s still so much to learn. Not only about the Mandalorians and his culture, but about him. To know is to love, and so you’ve taken to asking any nonsensical question you can think of whenever he’s around. Though you weren’t expecting it at first, you’ve learned that he’ll always give you some sort of an answer. Some of the highlights include:
“How old are you?” (“I don’t know. Probably mid-forties, but there’s no way to tell anymore.”)
“You don’t know your birthday?” (No, I… think it was in the winter.”)
“What’s your last name?” (“Djarin.”)
“Do you have any freckles? Or moles, or birthmarks?” (“No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”)
“Do you cut your own hair?” (“Yes, but it’s been awhile.”)
“Do you have dimples?” (“I don’t smile in mirrors.”)
“Are your earlobes attached or detached?” (“What kind of question is that?”)
And so forth.
He also gives you so many fucking opportunities to look. One right after the other. You used to think Din was incredibly trusting with how often and voluntarily he decided to take his helmet off around you—he didn’t wait a single day once he first felt your hands on his skin to take it off in your presence. You remember being blown away by his unexpected willingness to part with it after hearing so many tales of the Mandalorians from Kuill; stunned by the ever-present ability to just open your eyes at any moment and that’s all it would ever take. One simple movement—life-altering, and so easy.
Now you find it nearly impossible, muscle memory just won’t allow it to happen naturally. And yet somehow, avoiding it is like stepping around land mines. He doesn’t trick you—he doesn’t set it up, he doesn’t surprise you or anything, but he’s… less careful. When the kid is awake, Din acts normal—he walks around fully armored, he goes on hunts and returns a few days later with a quarry, teaches you more self-defense techniques in the cleared out hull while the kid watches and giggles at your pain from the safety of his floating crib. But when the baby goes to sleep, he’s taken to lounging with the helmet off. He only used to remove it to eat, sleep, or… do other things with you, but he never used to take it off just… because. Now he does. Now he’s less careful about darkness, less strict about how much light he allows to touch him.
Now he shares every single meal he can with you, sitting just off to the side so you’ll never see him on accident but providing the free exercise thereof should you ever decide to seek it out purposefully. Now he interrupts you in the middle of your complaining about the bruises on your knuckles just to lift the rim of his helmet the slightest bit, lean down and give you a quick kiss, and then lower it back into position again before you can even catch a glimpse of the lips you only recognize by touch. Now he keeps the light on when he goes to take a shower, he leaves the door cracked.
It’s starting to give you heart palpitations, you swear. At one point, he lets you to see the entire back of his head and it nearly launches you into a fucking crisis.
It’s the middle of the night and he just got up from bed to use the restroom. He’s quiet enough not to wake you on the way over, but then across the hull and with his back to you, Din flicks the light on in the small bathroom without closing the door. Immediately rousing you after being so accustomed to the pitch blackness, you lift your head from the warmth of your shared pillow just enough to blearily make out the sight of him leaning a hand up against the wall and dropping his head down, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s actually him.
Soft, dark brown locks ending at his collar but somehow looking longer than you ever imagined when you’ve run your fingers through them. Cascading in shaggy, natural curls—tall, broad shouldered and trim waisted, naked as the day he was born. Your heart starts to squeeze in your chest and it just never stops, and for the second time in your life, you feel like he woke you up in the middle of the night just to show you one of the most beautiful things the universe ever decided to hide. There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have ever seen a sight that would compare? He’s just a man, you don’t think a single person would bat an eye. But to you, he’s… his own monument. Constructed in honor of everything dazzling that happens to lie just underneath something else. A breathtaking view, even from this angle, that could only ever mean something to you.
Would you ever be able to know him? No, that’s not phrased right. What you mean is that… over the course of all your time together, you remember thinking that if he ever took his helmet off, he could walk right by you and you’d never be able to tell the difference. He could be anybody. There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have the same features? Brown hair, brown eyes, sunkissed skin that only one person is allowed to kiss, not even the sun. Would you ever be able to know him?
Staring at his back in the blissful silence of hyperspace and feeling like the Maker himself is letting you in on one of his proudest secrets, some wild thought suddenly occurs to you that… you think you would. Somehow.
You can’t explain it and you’d never be able to prove it, but you feel like if you lined up every single person in this galaxy shoulder to shoulder, all however many trillions of them there are, then you could walk the entire length of it and somehow come to a stop right where he’s standing. Every single time. You feel like you could do it in the pitch black. You could do it with your eyes closed.
And, he must just be so gorgeous. Maybe not in a traditional sense (or maybe in one, you’d have no way of knowing), but mostly in just… the rawest sense imaginable. Not like how symmetry and straight lines are gorgeous, but how a mountain is gorgeous. Rocky, dangerous, steep, the product of constant conflict between two immovable sides. He’s got scars littering his body, one of which you remember giving him yourself with a cauterizer on his lower back. He holds himself like his shoulders could tell their own story if anyone ever asked them; built to endure, weighed down and made strong with a collection of burdens he chooses to strap to them, steel or otherwise.
You don’t want to close your eyes once Din slowly turns around to look at you, but it happens anyways and you’ve never been so disappointed in your own cowardice.
But then, in a way, it could just be your own self-preservation instincts taking over. No matter how stunning and life changing the spectacle would be, why would anyone ever stare directly at a supernova? For so long, you’ve told yourself that his face is something you shouldn’t ever see on principle, but in a way, you suppose it’s fair he put this decision on you because he always has, even from the very beginning. He trusted you to keep your eyes closed for months on end and you never had a problem with it, so why is it so hard to open them now that he’s given you permission?
A couple weeks of that, and you start to worry that you’re unintentionally rejecting him.
It’s the last fucking thing you want, but how can you avoid it? Din is… different, he notices. He’s made a living off of finding things that inherently don’t want to be found—he knows all too well what secrecy looks and sounds like, he’s quick and observant and you don’t stand a single fucking chance against him in all the years of his practice.
But strangely, for as often as you feel like you can figure out what he’s thinking without ever seeing his face—realizing what his intentions are ahead of time and not feeling slighted when he phrases things a certain way or just chooses not to speak at all—you never truly realized how much that extended back to you.
He knows you, too. He told you so.
For some reason, you didn’t even consider the possibility of it working just as well the other way around. That you could choose to stay silent, and he’d know why. You feel like the mystery of him just eclipses you in every single way that you don’t consider even yourself much of anything, much less something else to be contemplated and understood. While you wouldn’t necessarily qualify the conflict as not being ready to commit, he seems more than willing to respect it regardless and nothing about the way he treats you or interacts with you changes. Normally you’d say it’s like he forgot the whole thing ever happened, but it’s almost the exact opposite. Like he was just naturally expecting it from you.
Are you truly so predictable, you wonder? He said you’d say no. Was he right? You’re not saying no, you just… can’t remember the word for yes right now. It’s right there on the tip of your tongue and the harder you work for it, the more frustrated you become with your own inability to find it.
But, instead of waiting, you think Din just decides to continue the conversation with the promise to come back to you when you finally figure it out.
Sometimes, especially when he’s gone, you find yourself thinking about what moment you’d choose, if you could. Since you can never seem to find the right one naturally, how would it all go if you could construct everything yourself? Where would it be? Naboo? No, that’s too cheesy. One thing you and Din both have in common is your practicality, your respective propensities for wanting to tackle one thing at a time and not needing frills attached to something in order to find a deep connection to it, a personal value to it. You weren’t even bothered when he didn’t claim you as a girlfriend to Peli, that’s how reasonable you used to be about labels. Now you’re your own antithesis, trying to conjure meaning where there isn’t any just so you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s ripping it away. You want this decision to feel as permanent as it is. You want it to be a happy thing, something that happens when you’re both so in love that you can’t bear to have metal separating you any longer.
You think… you’ll just know it when the time comes.
***
“I have to leave,” comes Din’s hushed voice through the darkness, and even though it’s the first thing either of you have said in hours, it sounds frustrated. Like it’s been bothering him for awhile and he’s just now finally telling you. “I… fuck, I can’t stay here, I should’ve left a long time ago.”
You whine softly into the pitch black, turning your head into the pillow and curling your fingers into his hair. “But it’s still so early…”
“It’s mid-afternoon,” he groans back, dropping his forehead down against your skin and breathing hot air along it. “We’ve been parked here for hours, I don’t know how you can sleep so long.”
“I’m not sleeping,” you pout, before gently dragging your nails down his scalp and feeling his whole body shudder with it. “Earlier I was.”
“Mhm,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you one last long, slow kiss. You sigh when his tongue comes out and glides soft and hot against your lips, tightening your grip on his hair.
But soon he pulls away, lifting the covers from over his head and pushing up from between your spread legs. “This one shouldn’t take long,” he gruffs, planting both palms next to your head and kissing you once more in the darkness, dipping his tongue into your mouth this time. You moan softly and taste yourself on him, moving to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, but he breaks the kiss and leans back before you can, preemptively avoiding the possibility of getting lost in it. “I’ll be back around dawn.”
You’ve known it was coming for hours now, so you’re able to play it off way better this time around. “Okay,” you breathe softly, dragging your palms up his bare chest as he lifts himself tall over your body. The slight disappointment underneath is so masterfully hidden, you’re almost positive you’re going to get away with it. “Be safe. Please.”
But then… well. Bounty hunter.
Din pauses for a moment like that in between your open legs, letting you slowly slide your hands down his ribs and over the lines of his stomach. You wait for him to move, find his clothes so you can get around and make some food, wake the kid up from his nap in an hour or so. Can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much you wish you could.
Only, he still hasn’t moved and you start to become concerned. “Din?”
But then he suddenly groans like he just can’t help it, grabbing both of your spread legs and easily lifting them up. You make a sound of confusion as he maneuvers them until they’re pressed together and draped over one of his shoulders, and then his hips drop and push forward to slide himself thick and perfect into your blazing hot cunt.
Still drenched and swollen from cumming in his mouth so many times earlier, you gasp and he just groans louder, a ragged thing scraping out of his throat while you struggle through blind and unexpected euphoria to reach him. But you can’t—Din hugs your legs tight to his chest and settles in just like this, turning his head to drag soft lips and a hot tongue over your ankle before he starts fucking you. Right up against your g-spot, with your whole lower body in the way and preventing you from slowing him down.
You just have to clap both hands over your mouth just to keep quiet since you can’t reach him. You feel his teeth sink into the meat of your calf, hips pistoning far beyond your reach and it feels so fucking good that you almost don’t hear his gritted words against your skin.
“I have to go,” he groans, repeating it over and over until his voice begins to pull tight and it just sounds like a plea. “I have to go, I have to go, I h—have to… h-have to go, I have to, I have to, I have…”
***
When Din finally steps foot out of the ship, fumbling with his rifle and cursing quietly through the modulator, it’s the middle of the night some twelve hours later.
***
Steady…
Steady………
Fire.
—and… you blink as bark splinters.
Did you…? You look down at the blaster in your hand and then back to the ginormous charred tree trunk for a few seconds, wondering if you’re just seeing shit.
No, it’s real. You actually fucking did it. You…
… hit the target.
All of a sudden, your ecstatic giggle echoes loudly throughout the foresty autumn wonderland around you, reds and oranges and yellows crunching under your feet while you start to dance.
“Hey! See that, bug!?” You call out, shoving the blaster into your waistband and shimmying up to your enthralled audience of one, who just so happens to be smiling as wide as you are as he’s scooped up into your arms. “I hit the target, I hit the target,” you sing, beginning to sway the baby back and forth as he squeals, laughing while you bounce him. “No demon powers necessary, little man! I figured it out, I just have to use one hand instead of two. You can retire now, you’re the right age for—”
A twig snaps in the distance somewhere to your left, and you quickly spin around while reaching for the blaster behind your back.
Except all you see is a blue Twi’lek standing out amongst all the fall foliage, his hands cuffed behind his back and stumbling a few steps at a time while a considerably taller suit of beskar shoves him forward. You relax and immediately turn to look down at the ground, trying to bite your lip so you don’t smile too hard while they both approach. You did it—finally, you did it, you’re on top of the fucking universe right now.
You wait for them to pass by and move up the open metal ramp to the carbonite chamber, but then Din apparently decides to pause when he’s directly behind you, yanking the quarry to a sudden halt.
You know you should probably turn around to address them, but you can’t hide the happiness from your expression, it’s way too obvious. Though, after a moment, you decide to shyly turn to face the two men while continuing to bounce the baby in your arms, hoping that his and your matching expressions of excitement aren’t too terribly inappropriate right now.
Din looks from you to the splintered bark on the tree, and then back to you again, before slowly tilting the helmet up in a way that feels… proud of you.
“Congratulations,” he finally says, and you can hear the genuine smile hidden in the modulated drawl.
“Thank you,” you beam up at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. “Was pretty awesome.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” he tells you, and you don’t know why, but the tone of his voice makes you go so warm. It’s not like he’s openly flirting with you, but coupled with your giddiness and sounding like that in front of a bounty he caught in record time, it just makes your heart fucking throb for him.
“It’s alright,” you murmur, shuffling your feet through the crunchy leaves below and trying to play it as cool as possible. You have company. “I’ll be able to do it again.”
“Let’s see it, then.” He tips the helmet over at the tree, and you look between him and the unfamiliar quarry for a second, not used to Din just… ignoring their existence entirely for you. It’s not like the Twi’lek has said anything or inserted himself into the situation at all, but still. Din has one hand latched onto the cuffs behind his back to prevent him from booking it, but other than that, it’s like he’s pretending he’s not even there.
“Uh…” You immediately feel yourself get nervous. “I can… try.”
He nods one single time in silent encouragement, and you slowly turn to face the tree once more. The kid stays cradled in your arm while you reach for the blaster in your waistband, removing it and using your longest finger to flick the safety off with a practiced fluidity. Then, extending it out in front of you and taking advantage of your newfound strategy of only firing with one hand, you line up the sight and pull the trigger.
You wish you could say it hits. It would be so fucking cool and impressive if you hit the target like that, wouldn’t it? But it doesn’t hit. It misses, like usual. Miserably. And then an amused snort comes from behind you.
“Right stormtrooper, you are—” you hear an unfamiliar accent begin to snark, but the rest of it turns into a garbled howl the second Din jerks his elbow back to slam it in his face.
You whip around just in time to see a cascade of blood pouring down blue lips and sharp teeth—holy fuck. You gasp and take a step backwards with the kid, not horrified by the sudden display of violence (not after Din spent an hour teaching you how to do that, too) but not quite expecting it at that moment, either. But then, well… that’s the second time he broke a quarry’s nose for addressing you with disrespect. There was that other one he choked, you’re pretty sure—though you can’t remember exactly what initiated that.
Din yanks the bounty up the ramp without another word, leaving both you and the kid there to process while he shoves him through the hull and towards the carbonite chamber none too kindly. However, by the time he seals the quarry to his fate and eventually makes his way back to you, you just…
Fuck, you feel so stupid.
You shouldn’t even bother, what’s the point? All that practice and nothing to show for it. If you can’t even hit a stationary target with the pressure of others watching, what makes you think you’ll have any hope at all in a situation where you actually need to shoot? Are they gonna stand still for you? Are they gonna be as wide as a fucking treetrunk? You’re horribly embarrassed, so downtrodden in the face of a cruel taunt that you don’t even want to look at Din when he steps in front of you.
“Hey, just try it again,” he says without delay, but the damage has already been done. It’s not his fault, you’re just… not the kind of person who is meant to shoot a blaster, maybe.
“Ah… it’s alright,” you look out and smile sadly at the line of trees surrounding you, wondering how it’s possible that you only managed to hit one of them this whole time. You don’t see it, but Din quickly touches the tips of his fingers to the side of his helmet twice before you look back at him. “I hit it earlier. I did, I promise. You can see the mark if you look.”
His glove reaches out to brush your hair back, so unbelievably gentle after using the same arm to shatter bone just a few minutes ago. “I know you did. It was a perfect shot, you hit dead center. I see it.”
“I did it with one hand, that’s why I tried the thing,” you mumble stupidly, looking down at your feet. Dumb. Dumb.
A strand of your hair is tucked behind your ear. “Wish I was here.”
You glance over at him, feeling your expression suddenly go soft with a wave of affection. It stops all the harsh criticisms, halting your negativity in its tracks and replacing it with just… soft, abstract things. Mostly just warm, nonsensical fluff, but one clear and resounding thought breaking through. You wish he was here, too.
“Maybe I’ll get good at it eventually,” you sigh, slowly handing him the blaster with the barrel pointed down and away from both of you. Din carefully takes it from you, tucking it away somewhere on his utility belt while you gaze out at the designated target and victorious char mark decorating it. “Or hopefully just okay at it at some point. I guess I just need to practice more, right?”
“That’s right,” he tells you warmly, catching your free wrist. “Try using this one when you do.” And then a lightweight piece of metal is gently pushed into your empty hand.
Your expression furrows while you quickly look down at it, and—
You go utterly still at the gift, not even knowing what to think.
The first thing that you notice is the craftsmanship. Brilliant, structurally flawless, the perfect size to fit your hand. You don’t recognize the specific kind of metal that was used—definitely not beskar—but you think it might be constructed from the same material as Din’s old armor. Dull silver, but with reflective chrome filigree accents around the handle, trigger, and safety. It’s uniquely constructed and unlike any weapon you’ve ever seen before—no hard lines or edges, just a soft fluidity to the design that’s so aesthetically pleasing, it doesn’t really even resemble a blaster at all.
You can feel the visor silently studying your reaction while you continue marveling, noticing something new every time you look. The safety is towards the back of the chamber, just like he said it’d be. The sight is electronic, and you examine the way it’s built directly into the barrel.
Are those extra magnets on the inside? Is this able to micro-adjust the plasma release for the best shot? Holy stars, it must have cost a fortune.
“Din, this is…” you can’t decide where you want to look—the gorgeous crafting, the custom design, or him. Standing so close to you, not saying a word while you search for the right ones. “It’s so beautiful, I…”
“Was made for you,” he murmurs. “Had to be.”
You look back down at the blaster to stop your eyes from tearing up. He didn’t have to do this. This is so… sweet, such a lovely thing to do. Don’t cry, don’t cry—
“What is this?” You ask breathlessly instead, rotating the gun until he can see the symbol branded on the handle. You recognize that it’s his signet, but you never bothered to ask him what it’s called, you never saw it as your place. It’s an animal of some sort, one with a giant spike attached to its skull, and you’re glad you’ve never come face to face with one.
“It’s a mudhorn,” he answers quietly. “They’re… dangerous animals. Fiercely protective, preferring solitude. The kid saved me from one a few days after I met him. It’s… the mark of my clan.”
How fitting, you think, and an honor. Perfect for him, and a bone-deep reminder of your two favorite people in the galaxy on your hip wherever you go.
“Thank you,” you tell him, hoping the sincerity in your voice sounds anywhere close to how you feel. You haven’t even had it in your hand for longer than a minute and it’s already your prized position, the most important thing you’ve ever called yours.
Din nods and takes a small step back. “Now hit the target.”
Feeling invigorated and renewed in every single way, you keep the kid tucked firmly in one arm while raising your blaster with the other. The safety clicks off and your back straightens, chin lifting until something about the angle feels… right. The trigger moves easily under your fingertip, and there’s almost no kickback considering how light the weapon is. What you’re not expecting is the pure white beam of plasma shooting out of the barrel—unlike any blaster you’ve ever seen before—but then the immediate sight of it hitting the tree dead center sends a roar of triumph through your ears. Fuck yes.
“Look at that!” Din calls out over the kid’s happy squeal, and there’s nothing you can do to stop your loud whoop of victory. Even though you know it only hit with the addition of those extra magnets to correct your terrible aim, that still feels so good—you feel so fucking powerful and dangerous. You glance over to Din with a wide smile, but then his arm extends out towards the trunk directly next to the one with charred bark. “Hit that one.”
You automatically swing the blaster in that direction and shoot. A few pieces of wood split on impact and send sharp bits flying as soon as the bright white beam collides with it.
“That one,” Din tells you, and then bark splinters a half second later. “That one.” Bark splinters. “That one, that one, that one—” hit, hit, hit, white plasma flying through the air and bark splintering in rapid succession.
He stops and spins around, pointing to a tree at the very edge of the clearing. “That one?”
It’s furthest away but the trunk’s diameter is enormous. As you lift the blaster, you know you’re likely to get it easily with this sophisticated weapon, even across the considerable distance. So instead, feeling like nothing at all can touch you right now and wanting to see how smart the aim mechanism is, you raise up a few degrees higher before pulling the trigger. Pale plasma launches from the barrel, and then one of the tree’s most prominent branches comes creaking and crashing to the ground right where you split it.
You’re beaming by the time Din turns back to you, the most excited you’ve ever been with your own progress. He holds there for a moment while you lower your blaster and wait for him to speak, both of you looking at each other and not moving, until suddenly you hear his voice coming back to you.
Hit the target and I’ll marry you.
One of Din’s hands slowly comes up to the edge of his helmet, but before you can even process the implication behind the gesture, you’re immediately looking down at the crunchy leaves under your feet and clearing your throat.
There’s a beat of silence where you stare down at the dead foliage and wonder why the fuck you just did that. Right in front of him, right to his face, too startled at how quickly you were being confronted with the possibility that you responded in an equally startled way. It was instinctual, automatic and entirely out of your control, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to take it back.
But… you can’t take it back. That’s the way things are, and after a few moments, you hear his boots begin to cross the distance to you.
“Come on,” Din murmurs gently through the modulator, carefully taking the blaster from your hand and clicking the safety back on again. “We have to get going. The fifth quarry is far. Three day trip through hyperspace.”
He doesn’t sound upset or disappointed by your unintentional rejection, thank the Maker. You want to explain yourself somehow, but it appears it isn’t necessary in the slightest. His arm wraps around your lower back and he leads both you and the baby back up the open ramp of the Crest, squeezing you close enough to his side that you have to learn how to walk in a different way to stop yourself from tripping over his boots.
The helmet turns and presses to the top of your head while you focus on moving straight. “Proud of you,” Din murmurs quietly, and your chest fills with enough air that you’d be worried about floating away if he wasn’t latched onto you so tightly.
He eventually releases you and walks over to the armory, pressing a button to unlock the doors while you hold the kid and watch him start to remove the multitude of weapons strapped to his body.
Maybe… maybe this isn’t the right time, but something brave surges up inside you. After receiving the most precious gift imaginable from him, hitting all those targets and hearing him say that he’s proud of you, you’re buzzing with just enough energy that for better or worse, it makes you open your mouth and ask.
“Could I… come with you this time?”
Din nearly jerks upright and looks over at you immediately, but he takes a while in responding. You hope he sees it in your eyes. You hope he sees just how much you don’t want to be stuck here again when this is possibly the one time you’d be able to tag along. It’s a bullshit quarry, one he could do in his sleep, and you’ve been getting increasingly restless while stuck on this ship.
When Din eventually does respond… well, judging from his shift in tone, you’re assuming he was just shocked at the question and didn’t take any of that time to actually consider his answer.
“No.” Short. Unfeeling, and not sorry about it in the slightest, before turning back to return the blasters you were using previously to the armory as if you said nothing at all.
Okay… Um. Not great, not what you wanted to hear, but maybe if you explain yourself better, he’ll listen.
“I just… I’m the only reason you have to get this quarry in the first place.” Your voice is quiet, trying to let go of some of the concerns you’ve kept to yourself over the past two weeks. Your fingers fiddle idly with the kid’s little woolen sack as he hangs out in your arms, wanting to plead your case but feeling slightly nervous now. “You were out having a crazy expensive blaster made for me while I shook hands with Karga and agreed that you’d take more work for less pay. I hate that I did that.”
“You had no choice,” Din mutters, turning around and striding past you while pressing a button on his vambrace to close the Crest’s ramp. “My fault for being late.” And… for as warm and comforting as his voice sounded earlier, it now just sounds… dismissive. Aloof. Half-listening, not really wanting to talk but forcing himself to.
“Well this time, I thought maybe… I might be able to help? Maybe?” Maker, you feel yourself going quieter the more he walks around the hull and ignores you. “Karga said it was just a missing person, not even a criminal…”
“Karga says a lot of things,” he grunts with his back to you, voice completely monotone through the modulator.
Come on, speak up. You’ve lacked a backbone for so long, you’ll never get what you want unless you say it out loud and let it be known. You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders, trying to put a little bit of spine into it. “I can be useful. I can fight now, I’ve been working on my—”
“You think I’m telling you no because I don’t think you’re capable?” He suddenly whips around, voice ringing sharp and challenging throughout the hull while you freeze. You don’t move but everything about you suddenly feels like it shrinks.
“I-I didn’t—” But he cuts you off, taking a step forward.
“I know you can fight, a Mandalorian taught you how. I know you’re useful, I know it’s just a missing person, and I know you hate it when I leave.” He pins you with his eyes through the visor, his tone harder than you think you’ve ever heard it before. “No. Your job is to stay here, on this ship, with my son, where it is safe, and my job is to go get the quarry. Quit asking. I’m not telling you again.”
The baby makes a tiny little distressed sound in your arms and you blink a few times up at the cold metal, feeling all the good feelings from before just… drain out of you.
Okay, that’s fine. Uh. You… the cockpit is behind you, you’ll go up there and fly then. No reason, just… he should get going.
“Okay, yeah,” you nod and tell the wall over his shoulder brace in immediate agreement, before abruptly spinning around and grabbing the ladder. Din doesn’t move a single fucking muscle while you try to find your way up to the cockpit with the baby held to your chest and a dead stone sitting heavy inside of it, hoping your face doesn’t show the vulnerability you feel wanting to take over as you retreat. Get to the cockpit first, get to the cockpit first, get to the—
“Sweet girl, I…” you barely hear murmured through the helmet from the floor, soft enough to sound slightly shocked, but you scramble into the cockpit and shut the door behind you before he can say anything else.
***
Silence didn't used to feel like this.
At first it was eerie, unnatural and stifling when you spent years in a wide open desert, wind swirling and dust pelting. It suffocated you the first few times you jumped into hyperspace, a phenomena you read all about and considered mathematically fascinating before ever experiencing for yourself. It was… foreign and strange, but you began to value it more and more as time passed.
Then, you started to get to know him and silence just became comforting. Something you could bask in, knowing it was a comfort to him. A choice he made because it just fit him best. You felt safe in it, you felt like you didn’t have to be anything else but you. You never had to break it just to avoid awkwardness, you became… closer to it, until you learned to fall in love with it.
But only when he was with you and it was his silence. Not… everything else’s. Now it’s haunting again. Now the sheer lack of sound through hyperspace is a stranger to you, and the distortion of light surrounding the cockpit feels less about the sheer magnificence of manipulating space time and more about the fundamental disconnect it causes. Gorgeous, but at its core, a severance. Ripping the fabric of the universe apart, tearing a wound in it.
It’s been a few hours and nothing exceptional has happened since your conversation in the hull.
You’ll admit that you’re a sensitive person, and because of that, you’ve always had a problem knowing if you were right or wrong when someone comes at you with a hard enough will. You second-guess yourself, it’s one of your worst traits, and you feel like trying to squash that tendency without knowing the limit is partially to blame for why you’re holed up in this cockpit with the kid. You’re quiet but in a different way from Din. When he doesn’t speak, it’s because most of the time, he’s sure of himself and doesn’t need to. When you don’t speak, it’s because most of the time, you’re insecure and don’t want to.
After being left alone with your thoughts for this long, you’re starting to realize that… he was right. What were you thinking, wanting to tag along? Wanting to hang out while he risks his life for this occupation, you probably sounded so fucking ignorant. Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but his point is still very valid and you’re not sure if you’re really justified in hiding like this anymore.
The way he said… your job, though. That still stings a bit. This hasn’t felt like an actual job in a very long time. Was that just an expression, or did he mean it literally? You’re stuck on it, you’ve just been going over this for hours in your head, trying to figure out if you should be the one to apologize or not—or if this is just you overreacting from the start and no apologies will be necessary at all.
“Sorry you got stuck with me, kid,” you mutter sadly to the baby, watching him fiddle with his favorite metal ball in your lap. He makes a little gurgle, purring in that weirdly adorable little way of his and it somehow feels like a reassurance directed to you that he’s just fine the way he is.
Maker, you haven’t heard anything from the hull in a fucking eternity; it’s like Din turned into a ghost, hasn’t even made a single footstep that you could hear since you last left him standing there. You remember performing a quick flight check as soon as you got up here, lifting off as fast as you could and hoping the thrusters would rumble loud enough to cover your series of pitifully shallow sniffles at being yelled at unexpectedly by a very large and intimidating man, not really crying but not really able to breathe normal either. The little monster was able to wiggle himself around in your lap as you were trying to punch in the correct coordinates for the fifth quarry with rapidly blinking, watery eyes, and then proceeded to give your belly the smallest hug you think you’ve ever been given and pretty much break your heart with it.
Lovely little boy, so sweet when he wants to be. He’s sat with you this whole time, he even tried giving you his metal ball to play with but ultimately decided to keep it to himself when he realized you aren’t nearly as fascinated by it as he is. You know it’s probably getting late for him, and you’ve been weighing the idea of handing him over to his father so he can at least get a good night’s sleep somewhere that isn’t your arms. There’s no blankets in here, just your lap.
“I think I gotta go take you to your dad soon, tiny. He’s probably missing you,” you tell him, trying to keep quiet enough that you won’t disturb Din in the hull. There’s a good chance he’s already asleep. “I think… he might still be mad at me. Maybe you can give him the big eyes, soften him up a little?”
Right on cue, his enormous eyes start to droop closed, and you let out a tired sigh of exasperation. That’s not gonna work, come on. They gotta be open, booger.
You watch him slowly drift to sleep, his ears relaxing until they too start to droop, but when you try to take the ball from him and set it down on the console, his eyes immediately pop back open and the toy slips from your fingertips. It levitates right back into his tiny hands as you watch, and then he closes his eyes once more while tightly cuddling the thing he loves most to his body.
Unbelievable.
He’s a child, and yet he’s…
“How are you so strong?” You ask him, unable to even fathom. “You’re the smallest, most helpless little thing I’ve ever seen and you’ve got such… strength. You defy the universe for a piece of metal.”
He doesn’t hear you, you think he’s asleep again. It’s just as well, you figure. He needs to go sleep in his crib, it’s time. You scoop him up and make sure the little ball stays tucked snugly in his arms, before finally standing up and stumbling over to the door on numb legs.
Only, when it slides open, you quickly stop short.
Because there, sitting on the floor and resting his helmet against the corner of this small little platform leading to the ladder, is the Mandalorian.
So much closer than you expected him to be. So big, crammed into such a tiny place. You didn’t hear his footsteps climbing the ladder, and you would’ve noticed it during the hours you’ve spent in the suffocatingly muted quiet of hyperspace. He can be silent but not when absolutely nothing else exists and he’s got a thousand fucking pounds of steel weighing him down at any moment in time. You took off almost immediately once you barricaded yourself inside the cockpit, so has he… did he follow you up in those last few seconds, right after you shut the door? The ones when you were sniffling like a child and trying desperately to turn the thrusters on before you let the tears come?
His head lifts and his back straightens as you’re looking down at him with his sleeping son cradled in your arms, your eyes slightly redder than they should be. You’re a mess and… he’s been here this whole time?
“Could you hear me in there?” You whisper in sudden mortification, but Din just keeps gazing up at you through the impenetrable metal visor. A complete mystery again. Unreadable—he could be anyone.
When he doesn’t answer you, your heart twists with the possibility that he’s still upset with you, and you quickly turn to the ladder to figure out the best way to get down without jostling the baby.
“I’m sorry.” His voice stops you dead in your tracks. It’s so soft, nearly flipping in and out of the modulator from the lack of volume, the most cautious sounding thing you’ve ever heard coming through the filter. “I… hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”
And… Maker, if anybody else had said it. If literally anybody else had said it, you know it would’ve sounded like the most sarcastic, dickish remark in such a delicate moment. But, you also remember him telling you once that you were tenderhearted. That the galaxy would never be as kind to you as you are to it. This… comes out sounding like he’s trying to change that.
It comes out sounding like he’s trying to use his voice to hold you because he doesn’t think you want to be touched right now. Like… like he’s doing everything he can to be as careful as possible here because you think he might be attempting to do something he’s never done before. Apologize for saying something he didn’t mean.
“You don’t have to,” you quickly tell him. He’s not good with words and apologies are difficult enough to phrase for normal people, you don’t want him to fret over it if that’s what this is. “It’s okay, I know you’re not… you don’t have to. It was stupid of me to ask.”
“It wasn’t,” he instantly counters, his voice finally seeming to find the floor when it was just hovering before. Not loud—still gentle, still making sure the kid doesn’t wake up and you’re not frightened away, but a bit more grounded this time. “It wasn’t… what I wanted to hear, and I didn’t take it well. Not stupid.”
“It was stupid,” you return amicably, looking down at your feet. “That’s not my… job, like you said.”
Din suddenly hangs his helmet down to his chest, pressing his gloves to the part that curves over his forehead and rubbing it. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
“You were right,” you acknowledge, having spent the past few hours coming to the understanding that it’s the hard truth and he just phrased it poorly. “I’m not… built for it, I’d only get in your way. I barely just managed to shoot stationary targets with a blaster today, and that’s only with that aim corrector built into the barrel. I’m here to be helpful, not—”
“What are you saying?” He suddenly lifts the beskar to study you, sounding genuinely confused. “What aim corrector?”
That… makes you pause.
“The, uh…” Now you’re confused. “The one that adjusts the plasma release on the gun you gave me.”
He doesn’t move an inch or say a single thing to you in response and you awkwardly shuffle your feet for a second, everything so quiet that you can hear every little snore that goes in and out of the kid’s tiny button nose.
You blink at him after way too long of that, not knowing why he still hasn’t said anything. “There’s an electronic sight and like a bazillion extra magnets packed into the barrel, Din, what else could—”
“Sweet girl, that’s… that’s for the Philithiorium,” Din breathes out, like he’s absolutely blown away by you right now. “That gas is less stable than normal canisters, it takes more magnets to focus the white beam without overheating the metal.”
You stare at him, not truly processing. He’s saying that… you made all those shots today without any help at all? By yourself?
Your eyebrows furrow and you blink a few times, but then his slow, heavy sigh echoes throughout the metal walls with disappointment… and you don’t think it’s directed towards you.
“You’re just… always so unsure of yourself.” He sounds genuinely distraught as his helmet tips down to look at the ground. “I made that worse today.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly shake your head, your chest already beginning to loosen slightly by just being around him, hearing his voice, seeing the metal glint under the fluorescent light overhead when he’s in such a vulnerable position on the floor. “It’s okay, let’s just… pretend neither of us said anything at all, okay?”
“Is that what you really want?” He asks you after a moment of quiet, and for some reason, you hear something in your mind tell you that his arms look so nice right now, don’t they? You could fit right there, perfect and safe again.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you smile at him, feeling a bit of the ache trapped inside you continue to work itself out little by little. You’ll be back to normal soon, it’s fine.
“No, I mean… do you really want to come with me?” Din asks you, the words sounding cautious. Confused, like he truly never expected the proposition from you at all. “Or… do you just not want me to go?”
Oof, what a fucking question.
Why would he ask this? It’s not pointed; it’s the softest, gentlest inquiry you’ve ever been posed. Maybe in other circumstances, you’d say that him leaving doesn’t have anything to do with it, but… you’re certain that internally, it absolutely does have at least something to do with it and he was just able to know it before you did. Which is probably why his sharp words seemed all the more cutting earlier. It hurt because he said the truth first, verbalized a very deep insecurity you’ve been trying to hide from him and threw it right in your face when shutting you down.
Though, if it worked differently and you were the one who had to be away while he stayed here, you’d like to think you’d handle it way better than how it is now. At least you’d have a real mission to focus on, new things to see and experiences to have. You just feel… confined sometimes.
You take a deep breath and figure you’ll use sitting down as an excuse to think for a second. There’s practically no room but you find it in the back of the cockpit near the doorframe anyways, doing your best to keep the kid level while you slowly lower yourself to the ground near him. Not touching him, but close.
“I just… I lived my whole life stuck in one spot, wanting to see the galaxy,” you finally admit to him, staring at his chestplate but seeing the helmet tilt slightly in your peripheral. “Sometimes it’s just… hard to see the galaxy and still be stuck in one spot, I guess.”
“…You want an adventure,” Din proposes quietly, and though there’s not a single hint of mockery in his voice, you suddenly feel like it’s really fucking dumb when he phrases it like that. What are you, an eight year old? Wanting to go on an adventure, see things you’ve never seen without any concept for real life? Credits? Time? Resources?
You shrug a shoulder to make it seem like it’s no big deal. Why is he even entertaining this right now? “It’s stupid, I kn—”
“Like on Naboo,” he goes on, ignoring your harsh self-criticism, not allowing you the ability to even get it out once he heard the first couple words. “Going through the forest, seeing that waterfall. Someplace to find for yourself. Explore. Experience.”
You… you want it so badly that you think your eyes might tear up just hearing the words coming out of his mouth when he says them like that. Like he… just inherently understands. He knows.
He knows you. He’s not good with words and yet he found the single most succinct way to put what you thought was a complex yearning without even trying. You can’t even answer him, he hit the target dead on and you’re left with nothing to say that wouldn’t just be a miserable lie.
“Okay,” Din says after a moment, giving you a small nod.
You’re lost now. “…Okay?”
“You’re never going on a hunt with me,” he tells you very seriously, no room for arguing. “Ever. And not because you can’t handle it, understand?” He inhales, quickly adding on to his response before you’re able to analyze it the way you want to. “But if you want an adventure, then… I can try and find a way to give you one.”
Stars. He’s… too kind. You somehow feel like it’s more than you deserve. You were honestly hoping to just shadow him on a hunt, watch him work and stay well out of the way when he needs you to. Helping if you think you’d be of any help; an extra set of eyes and hands. You would’ve been fine even if he didn’t apologize for raising his voice at you, he doesn’t have to do this for you.
“Thank you,” you say for the third time today, feeling like each one has somehow multiplied in sincerity.
“It can’t be right now,” he quickly tells you, apologetic but earnest about it. “I have to find the quarry, and I’m supposed to meet with Karga again in a week.”
You never did let him know about the other part of the deal you made with Karga, you admit. Four pucks, no hassling, no hard time constraints. That’s what you shook on, but you just never found a way to bring it up to Din. Especially since you’ve been so preoccupied with hiding your growing disappointment from him whenever he has to go.
“If…” you pause, wondering the best way to phrase this. Yikes, this is a toughie. “Um. If Karga… I don’t know, hypothetically, if Karga decided to loosen the time constraints back to the way they were before the Corellian bounty, would you… still need to meet with him again in a week?”
You don’t think he even bothers shuffling through all those words. “Say what you mean. Please.”
“That was part of the deal I struck with him,” you quickly explain. “You can hunt on your own timetable again and he’ll keep giving you four pucks like before, no more or less after this one extra quarry. It’s like a… replacement of sorts, for the one I kept you from getting the time before. If credits aren’t an issue, you can take more than a week. But only if you want to, you don’t have to. It’s just there and you should know, that’s all.”
He takes his time responding, lifting his helmet just the slightest bit in… surprise? Maybe?
“You never told me you did that,” Din finally murmurs.
“Ah. Well.” You look down at the sleeping kid in your arms. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to… keep you here.”
It genuinely is a struggle for you, and you think he’s just now realizing that. As much as you know he gets frustrated with you for always wanting him to be here when he physically can’t be, you think it’s only now that he’s truly realizing the lengths you go to in order to stomp that part of you down whenever you feel it threatening to come up. You allowed him to leave every single time without telling him he could stay, knowing that all that was left for you was babysitting and target practice for days on end.
“Will you come over here?” Din finally asks, and the tone of his voice just punches you in the chest. So soft, so distressed from having you so close yet so far from him and just… full of a quiet hope, like he’s fully expecting you to say no.
“Will we fit?” You whisper after a moment, even quieter.
He doesn’t answer, he just reaches for you. You do your best to scoot over to him without waking the kid, and then Din pulls you the rest of the way once he has a grip. You go right into his arms, laying sideways across his lap and supported by his steel embrace.
Oh, it’s not comfortable but you’ve also never been more fucking comfortable. One of his knees lifts and allows you to rest your back against it without worrying about falling over sideways and down the ladder to the hull, thank the Maker. The beskar pauldron over his shoulder digs into your cheek, but Din immediately pushes an arm up to nudge his helmet off and make it better for both of you. Your face automatically fits into the crook of his neck while he sets the beskar on the bend of his knee, and then he silently cradles you while you do the same to his little boy… who does the same to his favorite metal ball.
“Ni tar’tayl su,” he murmurs into your hair, the one phrase in Mando’a you do recognize, especially with how beautiful and elegant it sounds rolling off his tongue. “Forgive me. Ni ceta.”
You sigh your contentment and melt into him, well aware that you’d still be more comfortable in bed. But when you’re pressed hard against his chest like this and the baby is fast asleep in your arms, you get to feel both of them breathing. Din’s right lung is probably bigger than the kid’s whole entire body, but you like the radically different cycles they go through. You think you count six full breaths coming from the brown sack in your palms for every one of Din’s and two of yours. It creates the most beautiful little symphony that sometimes gets a little off track, but always finds its way back around again.
“How do you say…” You ask, feeling his hand slowly move down the curve of your spine, mindless and hypnotic. It catches the edge of your shirt and goes underneath, and even though it’s not his bare hand and there’s no skin to skin, it still feels so good. Not sexual or sensual even, just… a comfort to you. “In Mando’a, how do you say… out of a trillion?”
Din’s breaths pause for just a second, his portion of the synchronized rhythm faltering. Soon it starts back up, and his head turns to press his lips against your hair.
“I don’t think there’s a word for it,” he admits, gently brushing a thumb across the baby’s forehead while he snoozes. “There could be, but I don’t know it. I’d use… out of a million million millions. Dayn alanyc bal alanyc bal alanyci.”
Your eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from keeping them open after shedding a few tears earlier. Your first fight and you’re already completely in love with him again after a handful of hours of sulking and one conversation. How is that possible? You’re normally a very forgiving person and it wouldn’t have taken much to make you feel better, you just never expected him to… actually want it from you that badly, care enough about it to get on the floor and ask.
Din doesn’t move the entire night through. You assumed he’d make everyone get up at some point and move to the hull, but he doesn’t. You fall asleep against his chest, comforted by the silence once again.
***
The next morning, Din quietly climbs into the cockpit while you’re humming in the shower. You’re too busy basking in the indoor rainfall to feel the ship pull out of hyperspace, and then jump back into it a few moments after.
***
“How long do you think you’ll be this time?” You ask two days later, sitting on the extended flattop of Din’s old cot and swinging your legs back and forth. The baby is currently sitting on your lap and trying to roll the metal ball down your knee so you’ll kick it in the air, you think, because he keeps dropping it at different moments and forcing you to stop moving your legs to prevent accidentally denting a wall. Every time the ball clatters to the floor, he makes a sad sound and it immediately lifts back up into his tiny hands for another try.
Heavy boots clang against the metal floor as Din drops down from the ladder, having just landed the Crest on the surface of whatever planet you’re on. “I’m not leaving yet.”
“Oh…” You blink, surprised. “Okay.”
“I wanted to do some more training with you first, if that’s okay. You can say no if you want, but maybe not,” Din drawls, striding over to the armory and opening it. He carefully removes your blaster from the front shelf, speaking with his back to you. “You’re going to run.”
“Um.” You take a moment to glance around the enclosed hull, before turning to look back at him with your eyebrows raised. “What, like… in place?”
Din sighs and closes the armory before leaning back against the doors, rubbing the face of the helmet in exasperation. “From me, sweet girl.”
Your legs stop swinging, and the baby grumbles and slaps three fingers against your knee. “What?”
“We’re on Sanctuary II,” he explains, turning to grab his black bag from one of the storage shelves. He unzips it and reaches back into one of the larger pockets on his utility belt, before grabbing a handful of credits and stuffing them inside. “It’s a moon, the New Republic occupied it years ago and made it a safe world for refugees and orphans of the Empire. You’ll have your blaster, some credits, a communicator, and a day head start. You’re going to run from me. Show me how much you’ve learned.”
Is… he for real?
Right now? You don’t even know how to respond, you’re too surprised. Even when Din approaches and carefully trades the kid for your blaster, setting the bag down next to you on the metal bed, you still haven’t answered him.
“If you want?” He asks after a moment, and you quickly jerk your head into a nod and jump off the raised platform, almost knocking into him with your sudden excitement.
“Okay! Fuck yeah,” you grin, but Din shakes his head.
“Rules,” he says seriously, and you quickly do your best to frown, trying to compose your thrilled expression to match his tone. “One. This is a safe world, but things can always happen. You have a blaster now, but it’s for emergencies only. Do not shoot me with it. Do you understand?” You nod, but Din reaches forward to grab your elbow. “Out loud, please. For me.”
“I will not shoot you with this blaster,” you vow obediently, carefully cradling the precious firearm in your hands.
“Do not shoot me,” he repeats while pointing a leather finger at you. “Do not… shoot at me. Near me. Around me. No, just—don’t shoot. Unless I am… very far away. Okay?”
Well, he didn’t have to phrase it like that. You frown, but acquiesce regardless. “I will only resort to blastering if it’s an emergency and you are not around.”
He nods a thank you for putting it into better words. “Second rule. Since you don’t have a ship, I won’t either. We’re on foot. I don’t doubt you can hotwire a piece of junk to do what you need it to do, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t. Good?”
Entirely accurate and entirely fair. “Good.”
“Three,” he says. “I’ll have the kid with me, which is both good and bad news for you. Good news is he’ll slow me down, bad news is I can’t promise he won’t also try to intervene at some point if you’re serious about putting up a decent fight. What I can promise is that I won’t encourage it.”
“Reassuring,” you nod. “Also not really a rule. Please continue.”
“Four.” He pauses for a second. “I think I’m wanted by the New Republic.”
You nearly jerk back. “What?”
“I can’t confirm it and I’m not proud of it,” Din quickly tells you, probably the vaguest possible explanation he could provide. “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”
Is he fucking serious? “I don’t want you to be arrested, Din, I—”
“I won’t be,” he assures you. “They owe me one, I just don’t want to cash in yet. Trust me.”
You… do. Insanely, and against every logical thought flittering through your head, you do. If you were ever going to bet money that someone would be able to navigate a safe world on foot without being caught by the numerous officers scattered across the surface, then you’d put all your credits on Din Djarin. It… also shouldn’t really surprise you at all that the people seeking his incarceration also owe him a favor, should it? It actually sounds right on par for him. “Okay.”
“Fifth, and this one is important, so listen up,” he continues gruffly. “You check in with me tonight over the e-comm, alright? I don’t care where you are or how safe this planet is, if you don’t check in, I’ll come find you before the sun rises. Say you understand me.”
“I understand you,” you tell him, your heart beginning to pound in your chest at the reality of this actually happening. “I’ll check in tonight.”
“And if,” he goes on, “by some miracle, you manage to make it more than a full day, you check in with me tomorrow night, too. Say it.”
“I will check in with you every single night for the full five days it’ll take you to find me,” you assert, the adrenaline starting to make you brash and giddy.
Din tilts his helmet at you sternly. It is a very, very stern tilt. “Okay. New plan, forget everything I just said.”
Your expression furrows. “What’s the new plan?”
“That is the new plan,” he says, dead serious. “Us. Not doing this.”
“Oh, come on,” you grin cheekily up at him, poking his chestplate. “I’m just giving you some motivation to find me quicker, that’s all.”
Din stares down at you, and… yeesh. Tough crowd.
“Tell you what,” he finally grunts, sounding incredibly unamused with your jesting. “If you can last that long with only a day head start, I’ll let you come with me to collect the fifth quarry. You can even cuff the bastard yourself.”
You know it’s just because he’s rightly confident in his own deadly skill, but hearing him propose the possibility still shoots a thrill down your spine. “Oh ho, you are gonna regret saying that, shiny,” you beam up at him, starting to hop back and forth on each foot with excitement.
“But if I’m able to find you, you can’t ask me ever again,” he finishes shortly, and you immediately go still in front of him.
“What?”
“If I’m able to find you in five days, I don’t want to hear about you coming with me on a hunt and you can’t ever ask me not to go on one,” Din tells you, his voice rough and gravelly through the modulator. Not mean or harsh, but firm. “From now on, it’ll be off-limits.”
You… take a moment, not knowing if you should feel scolded or not. When you don’t immediately say anything in response, he sighs and turns the helmet away from you.
“Leaving is hard enough as it is,” he mutters, looking at the ground. “Hearing you ask… makes it impossible.”
You slowly lower your gaze to the floor as well, feeling your heart constrict tight in your chest. There’s a real pull under his voice, telling you that information even though it sounds like he doesn’t really want to admit it out loud. It… really is a struggle for him too, then. You understand.
“Okay,” you nod. There’s not a single part of you that actually thinks you’ll be able to stay hidden from him for five days while stuck on foot, so this is essentially a given. You’re not thrilled about the idea, but you’re going to do your best to respect it nonetheless, especially if he cares enough to put off hunting and allow you this experience for yourself. It’s a better compromise than you ever imagined, and you’ll do everything you can to hold up your side of the bargain.
Din clears his throat and straightens his spine, turning the visor until it faces you head on once more. “Final rule. I reserve the right to break any rule we just agreed to, or any fucking rule in this galaxy to keep you safe. Good?”
Your cheeks flush with heat, your stomach suddenly filling with butterflies. He doesn’t do that. Din says what he says or he doesn’t say anything at all, there’s no… taking things back, he’s already breaking his own code.
“What happened to The Way says no take-backs?” You ask quietly.
“This is my way,” he answers you. Quick, not even taking a moment to think about it, before pulling out a fancy looking wristwatch thing and clipping it on you himself. “This is your communicator. It takes more power than the one you have now but it’ll reach a further distance. I have one just like it, they’re locked into the same frequency and timesynced together, and the batteries need to be charged every three days. If you make it that long, I’ll remind you.” Din grabs the bag while you slide your arm into it, helping you hook it around your shoulder with one hand while he cradles the kid in his other. Your heart is pounding now, pumping with adrenaline as he pulls you towards the middle of the hull and then wraps an arm around you.
“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling you tight to him and pressing the helmet to the crown of your head. His voice is barely a whisper through the modulator. “Gar darasuum.” For an eternity.
You find some way to wrap your arms around him, even with your blaster in your hand and the kid hanging out in his dad’s other arm.
“Dayn alanyc, bal alanyc, bal alanyci,” you murmur dutifully against the beskar chestplate, knowing your accent is probably butchering the words but hoping they still carry the same sentiment.
And then you’re squeeeeeezed hard enough to get a little air out of you, before you’re let go and he turns around, pressing a button on his vambrace so the ramp begins to lower.
It’s bright outside but not too bright, and everything is warm and gentle and breezy, right in the middle of a lush plain. You inhale the fresh air into your lungs, looking out across the wide open field, having no fucking clue this is where your day would be leading when you woke up this morning. Oh Maker, it’s gorgeous here. Not like Naboo, where every single thing is picturesque and fit for an e-card, but in a soft, understated kind of way. The sky is a canvas of swirling pastel clouds, pale pinks and yellows and blues, and the communicator on your wrist lets you know that it’s just after noon here.
You take one single step down the ramp, before immediately stopping and turning around to bite your lip at him.
“How am I… how am I supposed to outrun you?” You ask, already clueless. “You’re too good, better than me at everything.”
“That’s not true,” Din reminds you sternly, grabbing your hand at your side. “You already know who’s after you, that’s an advantage nobody else has ever had against me. You know how I think. I don’t know how, but sometimes it’s like you can…” He slowly shakes his head. “See me. Through the metal.”
“But… but that works both ways,” you point out, breathless at hearing him say that but needing to focus right now. “You know me, too—you’ll know exactly where I—”
He shakes his head again, but quickly this time. “Remember what I told you a long time ago? What your best weapon is?”
You… do not. He told you so many things, and you’re assuming every single one of them is going to come into play during this endeavor if you want to outlast. You’re going to have to think back and remember all of them individually, find the time to figure out your best plan of action based on the remarkably little you know about how he hunts.
“You’re smart, remember?” Din murmurs, squeezing your fingers. “Your mind works differently, it sees things in ways I’ll never be able to, not even with this helmet. So…” He shrugs a shoulder like it’s the simplest thing in the galaxy. “Don’t try to outrun, okay? Just try to outsmart.”
You give him a nod after a moment, still not really sure about it, before giving his hand one last squeeze in return and eventually letting go.
Outsmart. Outsmart him, use what you know about him to be the most elusive quarry he’s ever hunted down.
As you make your way down the ramp, you’re already thinking. His helmet tracks footprints, that’s a thing you know. You’ll have to find someone to trade shoes with, then—yours aren’t too beat up, maybe you can find a local who’d appreciate a better pair. Are you going to a city? Would there be one in walking distance? The wilderness won’t work, you’ll be too exposed and it would make you an easy target for either him or wild animals. The weather seems clear here though, and you don’t think you’ll need to worry about rain or snow, but if—
“Oh—but when you do see me,” Din decides to add when your feet finally touch the grass, and you pause once more to turn around and look at him. He stays quiet for a second, studying you through the helmet for too long. Like the anticipation is getting to him already.
You bite your lip back at him and adjust the bag on your shoulder, tummy swirling with nerves and excitement. He tilts the visor up, gazing down at you from the hull with the kid tucked in his arms.
“Try to outrun,” he says gruffly, before turning back into the ship and letting the ramp slowly close behind him.
#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#mando x reader#mando x you#smut#angst#hurt/comfort#reader insert#the mandalorian#rough day#no-droids
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Hey! :)) You're very talented! So I dare to send in a Bucky imagine <3 Maybe one where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he always makes you feel special and he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then and also soft smut? :)
a/n: thank you my love!! <3 omg the dog tags, this is amazing. this one is probably one of my favorite things i’ve written so far, I took it and kinda ran with it lol. but i certainly hope you enjoy it, i can also always rewrite it with any gender you want!!
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It was always hard when Bucky was on missions, he’d go away for god knows how long. Sometimes a few days, sometimes a few months, it was extremely hard on your relationship at first, having him in your arms one minute and then gone the next.
Even since you started dating he had tried to keep you as far as possible from the life he knew as an Avenger. Now there was nothing wrong with being an Avenger but it was dangerous, and as long as Bucky was alive he’d do anything to protect you. You were the one thing in his life that wasn’t tainted by his past, and he wanted to keep it that way.
At first you didn’t understand why Bucky didn’t tell you more about where he went or what he did, whether it was a recent mission or something that happened in his Winter Soldier days. It made you feel bad to feel like it, but you had started to think that he thought that you couldn’t handle it.
That sweet innocent little y/n couldn’t handle the burden of knowing the horrible things that his other persona had done. Now you knew who Bucky really was and you knew that all of these thoughts were irrational, but sometimes it made you feel like you couldn’t truly be there for him.
It slowly started to make you feel helpless, the nights where Bucky woke up screaming from a dreadful nightmare and all you could do was just hold him and tell him it would be okay, not really knowing what you were comforting him from.
It’s not like Bucky neglected you in the slightest, in fact that beautiful man showed you that he loved you in some way just about every single day, if not more. If it was bringing you flowers, asking how your day was, holding you for hours, or even just plain telling you.
Bucky had left about two weeks ago on a mission with the rest of the Avengers, you of course stayed behind. It had been a long two weeks and you missed Bucky something terrible, so you left your quiet apartment and went and stayed at the tower for a little while.
The last night before Bucky was supposed to be back you laid in Buckys bed, tossing and turning, doubts flowing freely in your mind. What if Bucky was pulling away from you? What if he was realizing that you’re not good enough for him?
Because of all the thoughts swirling in your head as you sat up, you didn’t even hear the heavy footsteps outside your bedroom door, not even the door opening and the tired super soldier trudging in. Bucky stopped at the sight of your shrugged over shoulders “doll?” He called out
You jumped at the sudden voice and turned around a tired smile spreading across your face “Bucky!” You walked into his embrace, sighing as you took in his smell. Even after a grueling mission he still smelled good.
Bucky noticed something was wrong by the way you carried yourself across the room, he pulled back and lifted your head up gently by your chin. “Is something wrong y/n? Are you okay?” You let out a small chuckle “I should be asking you that”
You pulled away and sat on the bed, Bucky following you “You mean because of the last mission?” He had a feeling he knew what was bothering you, he just wanted to hear you say it. “Among other things” you whispered looking down at his hands in your lap
“I just” you continued “I feel so helpless all the time, I feel like I’m not doing enough for you, you know? Every time you wake up from a nightmare, every time you come home with bruises and cuts and all I can do is just clean you up and blindly tell you that it’s gonna be okay” you sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’M not good enough, for you.”
You finally looked up at Bucky, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. At your statement, his face softened “Oh babydoll, I’m sorry I let you down” he pulled you into his neck, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I can’t even put into words how much you’ve changed my life” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
He pulled away slightly to look at your face. “The reason why I don't talk about” he looked down. “The things that I’ve done is because I don’t want you to think any differently of me. I want him to be long gone and I don’t want him to ever come back, and I’m just not ready to admit that there’s a possibility that he’s still there okay?” He kissed your temple “it’s got nothing to do with you doll”
“Here, I want to give you something.” He reached into his pocket and you heard something that sounded like metal clinking together. He pulled his hand out and into your view
“These are my dog tags, you know from the war. I keep them because, well they help me remember who I used to be. Who I really am, they remind me that I’m more than what all those years with Them made me into.” You gingerly reached down and touched them
James B. Barnes
32557038 T42 A
He took them and pulled it over your head, the metal resting just above your chest. “I want you to have them” he said “Oh Bucky, I can’t take these away from you” Bucky gave you a soft smile “You can and you will, I want you to have these, that way I’m with you all the time. Now any time you miss me, you can know that i’m right here” he placed a finger on the dog tag over your heart
“Always. Because I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what honey” He titled your head up, eyes meeting yours. “Because I love you.” You blinked away the tears welling up in your eyes “I love you too James, thank you” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto your lips.
You wound a hand in his hair tugging him closer and he placed a hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on the skin there. “Bucky” you whispered against his lips. He slowly laid you back on the bed, shifting to lay in between your legs. “I know doll, just let me show you how much I love you okay?” He trailed down to your neck “I’m not going anywhere”
Bucky sat up, trailing his hands down your sides. He reached your sleep shorts and hooked his fingers in the band. He pushed your shirt up a little bit and placed kisses on your waistline before pulling them down your legs.
Bucky worked on your underwear next, he placed gentle kisses on your thighs before placing one right over your clothed clit. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your reaction as he pulled those down too. He kissed his way back up your torso and pressed a soft kiss to your lips “You’re so beautiful doll, so so beautiful” he whispered in your ear.
Your hands gripped Buckys as he pulled off your shirt. His hands cupped your breasts through your bra, as he placed a kiss on the top of both of them.”Gorgeous” you heard faintly. You felt the roughness of his hands on your skin before his hands worked to unclip your bra.
The brunette made his way back down your body, his thumb immediately swiping your clit, you grabbed onto his shoulders as he leaned down to replace his finger with his tongue. Bucky lapped at your clit and slowly worked a finger inside of you. “Taste so good doll, my favorite thing in the world” he mumbled
Bucky could feel you getting closer so he sped up his movements. “Wait” you panted and he stopped completely “what’s wrong y/n? “Just wanna feel you already, can’t wait anymore” He smiled and kissed your hip bone before crawling back up your body
“Anything for the lady” Bucky used his right hand to spread your other leg out for him more, settling in between your thighs as he kissed you. It was the kind of kiss that left you breathless, and most certainly wanting more. “Ready for me baby?” He pressed a kiss to the collum of your throat. “Always, Buck”
Bucky's arms caged you between him and the bed as he slowly slipped inside of your wet pussy. Both of you letting out groans of pleasure at the feeling of Bucky filling you up. After a minute and Bucky whispering to you how good you felt around him, he started to move.
The only sounds in the room were the sounds of your pants and moans of each other’s names as Bucky fell to his forearms, trying to get as close to you as possible. His eyes caught a glimpse of his dog tags resting over your breasts and it stirred something inside of him.
Both your hands tangled in Buckys hair as he went faster, somehow working himself deeper than he already was. “ God I love you so much doll, you look so pretty wearing my name around your neck” he panted into your ear as he pressed a kiss on your neck.
One of your hands fell to Bucky's side pulling him closer “Buck” you moaned “I’m gonna cum” you squeezed your eyes shut as he grunted “me too doll, cum with me” Bucky worked you higher and higher until you finally orgasmed around him, an airy “I love you” whispered into his ear.
Bucky wrapped an arm around you tightly as he came inside of you, praises and grunts falling from his lips and his hips slowed as he milked you both through the high.You both stayed like that for a while, neither one of you wanting to move as you threaded your hands through Bucky's now damp hair.
“I know I’ve got to be more open with you, you’re the most important thing in my life and I don’t want anything to ruin that” the man laying on your chest suddenly spoke. He squeezed his arm around you pulling you closer together.
“I know Buck, i’m sorry. I just wanna make sure you’re okay you know?”
“Don’t be sorry” he leaned up and gave you a sweet kiss “As long as i’m with you, I’m gonna be just fine” he laid his head back down on your chest “Plus we got one hell of a night out of it” he smirked
“Ow!”
“Idiot”
#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan imagine#requests#james barnes smut#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes imagine#bucky request#bucky reader insert#the winter solider x reader#bucky x y/n#y/n#reader insert#smut#the winter solider imagine#the winter solider#y/n smut#bucky barnes
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Every Morning Felt the Same
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𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Slight Yuki x F!Reader
𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Angst
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: akito being akito
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3884
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I wrote this a while ago and I had no idea how long it was until now! After starting the final season I came back to it and spiffed it up a little and well... here it is!
Feel free to send requests!
Fic below the cut
I was walking to school as I normally do; listening to music. Left turn, right turn, wait at the light. Every morning felt the same. However ever since the beginning of this year I have started coming out of my shell. As unapproachable the girls have made Yuki Sohma we have somehow become rather good friends. It was awkward at first but I’ve gotten used to the staring from the “Prince Yuki Fan Club” garbage. It wasn’t as if I liked him, we were just close friends. I have gotten to know him and his friends over the last few months. Yuki and his cousin Kyo have a very interesting dynamic to say the least. It seems as if they are cat and mouse, but the mouse always outsmarts the cat.
It was finally time to go home; I could be considered lucky in that regard. I am an exchange student. I have my own student apartment that the school pays for me to live in. It can get fairly lonely on the weekends or during breaks. I’m fairly introverted and only really talk to Yuki and Co. during the school day. My japanese can be pretty rough at times, but I understand enough to get by. With winter break coming up I was preparing to celebrate New Years by myself like I have the past few years. It’s just not worth it to go home for the holidays; the break is too short to make the price tag worth it. I almost have grown to love being by myself; after a long day at school the silence is calming.
My normal path home is fairly straightforward, but the idea of the upcoming holiday clouded my mind. I had somehow ended up walking past my usual turn without realizing and continued on into the forest on the outskirts of the town. A cold gust of air brought me out of my trance; I looked around wildly unfamiliar with my surroundings. As I turned on my heels to go back the way I came; to my utter disbelief a white snake blocked my path.
Now I didn’t hate snakes, but I admired them from afar or held well handled pets. Very unlike any snake, or wild animal, I’ve ever seen it slithered up to me. I didn’t want to startle it, on the off chance it’s hungry so I stood as still as possible gripping my school bag against my chest. A cool scaly feeling enveloped my calf, as the snake slithered up it. I gripped my eyes shut, praying it just went away after realizing I was not edible. Then it dawned on me, it was below freezing, and snakes are cold blooded… and I’m warm blooded… NOW I'M A SPACE HEATER FOR A SNAKE!
I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped my lips as I felt the snake take refuge under my shirt. Whether it be divine intervention or my (un)lucky day a man came walking toward me on the frozen path. He was dressed in a simple yukata with shaggy black hair. He looked at me calmly and then to my… chest? HE’S LOOKING AT MY BOOBS! I looked down as I saw a little snake head pop up. He’s looking at the snake… Why is the snake looking back at him?
“I see you got yourself into a situation” the man laughed. He didn’t seem to be speaking to me, but almost to the snake?
“Yes, uh… please help” I whispered. I didn’t want to bother the snake for fear of it biting me. In my awkward fear I happened to answer in english instead of japanese. The man tilted his head, and I just assumed he didn’t understand me. I opened my mouth to repeat myself, but he cut me off.
“You’re y/n, right?” He said back in perfect english. “Yuki’s friend from school”. He talks about me?
“Yes, sir.” I said. “Is there any way you can help me? I switched the conversation back to japanese. It always felt rude to make someone accommodate me, even if I wasn't the best speaker.
“Come down the road to the house with me. I can help you better there” He chuckled. “And don’t worry about how you speak. Do what is most comfortable.”
We trotted along the path rather slowly, I did not want the snake to fall or worse. It was only a couple minutes. We exchanged pleasantries. The man was Shigure-san Yuki and Kyo’s uncle who they lived with. From my time being friends with them I’ve only really heard Tohru mention him a few times. I never really hear the boys talk about their family, it seems to be a touchy subject.
We finally arrived at the house. It was pretty nice considering it was in the middle of the woods. As we got inside the snake slithered down my leg and decided that the house was his now. I relaxed my tense muscles. I guess I didn’t have to stay very long. I looked around, still standing in the entryway. I noticed Kyo sitting at the low table and I smiled politely at him. He looked up when he heard the commotion.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, shocked. It seems visitors are not abundant here. “What did you do to her?!” he yelled at Shigure-san.
“Nothing! Why would I do anything to one of Yuki’s beloved friends?” Shigure shrugged off.
“Oh, um there was a snake…” I started. Yuki had just entered the room. He looked up when he heard the word snake.
“A snake here is it now, y/n-san?” he looked around… angrily? “What did it look like?” He blurted. I wasn’t very used to Yuki not being calm and collected. This was definitely a change of pace for him. I guess he really doesn’t like snakes. As I was about to open my mouth to answer, another boisterous man with long silver hair burst into the room
“Yuki-kun! Have you missed me? I wanted to come visit you but it was so cold! Without this fine lady I would have never made it” he swoons. The man walked over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the house, my shoes left in the entryway.
“Aw sweet, y/n-chan” He started, bringing my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “Thank you so much for your kind nature! Without you I would surely have been left for dead”
Dead? I thought. I don’t recognize him, he kind of looks like Yuki. I don’t think I’ve ever met him. How does he know my name? The only thing I carried here was…
“The snake.” I whispered. I looked up to see familiar yellow orbs. “You… you were the s..snake” I stammered. “How is that even possible, humans can’t be snakes, snakes are snakes” I gripped my hair in my hands as I thought how this could ever be possible.
“My sweet love, don’t grip your beautiful hair” he said as he went to grab my hands. Both Yuki and Kyo shoved themselves between me and the strange man.
“Don’t touch her” Yuki said sternly. He shoved me behind him. I lost my balance and fell into his back. I heard a pop and a cloud of smoke appeared as I fell into nothing. In front of me was a little silver… rat?
“What?” I gasped. At this point I just assumed I was dreaming. “Are you supposed to be Yuki-kun now? I guess you are kind of cute.” I whispered as I scooped up the little thing. Kyo turned to Shigure- san.
“Look what you caused?” He yelled. “And you” he turned to the other man. “What the hell were you thinking?!” Shigure sighed. Looking at the man with his hand scratching his head.
“Well Ayame, I guess we got into an even worse situation” He laughs.
…..
“A curse?” I whisper. The Sohma’s had explained everything to me. I finally now realize more than I did before. Why Yuki was so shy, how Tohru acted when I talked about their home life. Why Kyo always seemed on edge. All of this bewildered me.
“So now what?” I asked shyly. “I promise I won’t say anything to anyone of course! I… I just don’t really know what to say” I looked down into my lap.
“Time to call Hatori I guess,” Shigure-san said as he stood up. Everyone had a solemn look on their face.
“Who is that?” I asked slightly afraid. “Am… am I going to die?” I looked up nervously into Shigure-sans eyes as mine began to water. “I… I promise, please” Tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Tohru, who had come home in the middle of this, offered me a tissue.
“Of course not y/n-chan” He said looking down seriously. “We just can’t have people knowing is all.” Ayame-san caressed my face and wiped away my tears.
“Do not worry, not a pretty little hair on your head will be harmed” He whispered to me. Yuki snatched me away from him.
“This is your fault to begin with.” Yuki said sternly. “Without your whole scheme we would have never been in this mess” This continues on for a while, Yuki being mad at what I now learned is his older brother, and Ayame begging Yuki to forgive him while still being a strange sort of arrogant. I just sat with Tohru, watching the whole thing unfold. Kyo had gone out shortly after this began, Tohru mentioned a Sensei so I assume it was martial art practice of some sort. Ayame-san turned to me and Tohru.
“I have an excellent idea” He sang out, almost twirling over to the two of us. “If we pretend to be together, there is a chance it will be okay!”
“T...Together? What do you mean by that?” I looked up at him, my eyes still a little puffy from before. “Like dating?” Shigure-san just walked back into the room as those words left my mouth.
“Who are you dating now? Ayame? So scandalous!” He wiggled. Yuki facepalmed, fed up with everything.
“You can’t think that’s possibly a good idea.” Yuki sighed. “First of all, I don’t want you anywhere near her, and second you’re almost twice her age. That would never work”
“An apprentice with benefits then!” Ayame hoisted me up and twirled me around. His arm wrapped around my shoulder but not enough to where our bodies were touching. His hand picked my chin up to look at him.
“Look at those sad e/c eyes.” he sighed. “You need some excitement in your life” He whispered in my ear. Yuki pulled me away from his clutches and looked into my eyes.
“Don’t listen to him.” He warned. His eyes were filled with pain. I wondered if this had happened to him before. Tohru seemed to know and be fine, so why couldn't I?
“I don’t want to lose my friends” My eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know what to do, I don't want to hurt you or your family, and I don’t want to lose you” I sob. I couldn't think straight enough to worry about japanese or anything for that matter. “I’ll do anything to just not be alone again”
The room was silent apart from my sniffling. The mood shifted to a depressing tone. Reality had sunk in. The Shomas realized either they try this or let this girl forget. I looked up over everyone.
“I’ll try anything”
…..
Over the last month going to work with Ayame-san was almost tiring. Although he seemed like an airhead, there is definitely something going on in his head that I just can’t guess. I assume it comes with his whole family dynamic. Although I was supposed to be his assistant, I feel like he was holding out for the whole “pretending to be dating” thing. Thank god he couldn’t touch me without becoming a snake; although that did happen a few times. Ayame-san as often as he could would be sure to “teach me” and “guide me” to what I needed to do. Mine-san seemed to keep him in check when we were in the studio, but when we had to run errands it was definitely towing the line.
Yuki always asked if I was okay first thing every morning before homeroom, and walked me home after I was done with Ayame-san every night. I assured him everything was fine. I didn’t want to lose my friends. It wasn’t that bad, it could be annoying at times but I feel like I learned a lot about myself and how to sew; so that's a plus.
One particular night after my apprenticeship, Mine-san pulled me aside. “y/n-chan, you’re doing really well. Most girls would have run for the hills by now!” she laughed. “You’ve gone from this shy little thing, to a young woman who can hold her own!”
“y/n-Chan!” rang out a familiar sing-song voice. Ayame-san waltzed out of the studio. “Do you think you can do me a favor?!” He sang out.
“I guess it depends on what it is exactly, Ayame-san.” I huff looking down the road seeing Yuki walking towards us.
“Well, I’ve been called to the estate. I was wondering if you would like to join me. Shigure said I should bring you!” He grabbed onto my arm and gave me puppy dog eyes. “You can meet Hatori!” Ayame chirped.
“Well I guess I can. If you really want me too” I said as Yuki neared closer. “I'll see you tomorrow then Ayame-san.” I called out as I ran towards Yuki.
“What was that about?” Yuki questioned as we walked towards my apartment. I hopped onto a small wall lining the sidewalk. With my arms out for balance I continued in front of him, spinning on the balls of my feet and walking backwards while facing him.
“He invited me to the estate with him and Shigure-san.” I replied, stopping in my tracks. “I said I would go.” I looked down at him nervously.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea y/n-san?” He looked up at me. He looked rather worried. I was starting to think that saying yes may not have been my brightest idea.
…..
The Saturday morning sun crept into my apartment window. I knew today was going to be… interesting. Shigure-san was nice enough to let me come over in the morning to figure everything out. Ayame-san told me he would have something for me to wear for dinner. Seeing his tastes in clothing it probably was not going to be fun.
When I arrived at the house, it was as rambunctious as always. Yuki and Kyo were lost in one of their usual arguments. They didn’t notice that I entered the house. Shigure-san looked up from his paper and smiled in my direction.
“Good morning, y/n-chan.” he chimed. The two boys looked over in the midst of fighting. I’ve seen them argue but I’ve never seen them fight. Both boys were breathing heavily; sweat rolling down their foreheads. This was rather surprising, Yuki is normally so calm, and collected. Over the past month I’ve learned more about him and my friends. Spending more time with him has made our friendship stronger. Although, it seems to be different now. Yuki has expressed his distrust of his brother. He has even started walking me to the shop, and even to school since my apartment is on the way. I’ve enjoyed spending more time with him… almost more than before. I shook my head at this thought.
“Is everything okay?” He asks endearingly, giving me a smirk. “Ready for your date with Ayame-san?” I blushed bright red at that comment.
“Uh… well… I didn’t think of it that way” I stammered. I brought my hand up to the back of my head, rubbing it sheepishly. Yuki snapped his head over to Shigure-san.
“No way, is that what he thinks is going to work” He seethed. “She never would have agreed to that if those were the terms. Isn't that right y/n-san?” Yuki looked at you sincerely.
“Well I… I wasn’t aware of that. I just assumed it was to meet Hatori-san” I looked down at my feet.
“Don’t worry kids” Shigure-san said as he resumed his paper “It’s just a ploy to allow y/n-chan to the Sohma estate.”
“So I have to pretend I’m dating Ayame-san in order to go?” I looked at Shigure. “Why did no one tell me” I huffed. He looked up at me and smiled.
“Because you wouldn’t have agreed otherwise”
…..
After a “fun” day at the Sohma house it was finally time. Ayame-san arrived with a bag with my name on it to wear. I looked inside; it looked like the pieces of a kimono. I looked up at him.
“I’ve never worn one before… I’m not sure how” I said shyly. Ayame-san snaked an arm around my shoulders.
“That’s okay my love, I can help you put it on for you.” he said coyly. Shigure-san also stood up. “What about me?” he added. Yuki came to my side and took my hand. He dragged you away from the men and up the stairs.
“Or I guess he could.” Shigure-san said defeatedly.
I have never been upstairs in the house before. It wasn't anything special, just everyone's rooms. Yuki still hasn’t said anything as he basically dragged me to his...room. I’m in his room. Those “Prince Yuki” bitches would pay thousands to be in my shoes right now.
“You can change here if you want.” He said shyly. Yuki looked away and blushed. “Tohru isn’t here, otherwise you’d be in her room.”
“I… I don’t know how to put it on” I stammered. “I need help” I looked down at my feet. Yuki took his hand under my chin and pointed it up. His gray eyes looking into my e/c ones.
“I’ll try my best.” He smiled. “There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed, Ayame should have known better. It was definitely one of his tricks.”
Yuki left the room to allow me to get the under clothes on. Once I was done I let him back in. The kimono almost felt like a large sweater. The material was soft and airy. Yuki with his cheeks dusted red, reached around me to gather the material in the way it needed to be. He tied a sort of belt near my waist to gather the fabric. It was not as difficult as I thought it would have been, but I would not have been able to do it correctly myself.
“Thank you, Yuki-san” I said as I pinned my hair up. I looked over at him and smiled brightly.
“Anytime y/n-san” he smiled back blush still sprinkling his cheeks.
…..
The Shoma Estate was huge. I felt like a small child as we approached. Shigure and Ayame walked in front of me, laughing about something or other. My nerves were boiling up, Kyo mentioned how intimidating it can be, especially if you looked out of place. Shigure-san looked back at me and noticed I was staring at the ground. He nudged Ayame-san's arm and pointed back at me. He twirled around towards me and latched onto my arm.
“You’re my date! You should at least look happy” He sang out. I looked around to see some women walking, giving me a disapproving glare.
“I guess I’m just nervous” I squeak. “This place is kind of intimidating” Shigure-san fell into step with us.
“Don’t worry y/n-chan” Shigure-san said “Everything will be alright in the end” He smiled. We arrived at the place we were supposed to meet. It was such a large house. I don’t think I’ve seen one this large since moving from the states. Once we entered, a man greeted us in the entryway.
“Ah Hatori!” Ayame-san said. “How are you! I’ve missed you!” he cried out as he went to hug him. Hatori side stepped and Ayame fell to the floor.
“I assume you’re y/n-chan” Hatori-san said to me.
“Yes, sir” I replied with a bow. Hatori shuffled us into the house and into a traditional dining room. Ayame-san and I sat down together. Hatori stopped Shigure in the doorway.
“Shigure, do you really think this is okay?” Hatori whispered.
“I sure hope so.” He replied.
…..
Dinner went well. It was just the four of us. I was so worried that there was going to be a huge amount of people. I’m so glad there wasn’t. The three men had been drinking, however Hatori-san seemed to be the only one with any sense left. Shigure and Ayame were being as loud as ever, saying risque things towards me.
As we were getting ready to leave, I heard a crash through the house. The sliding door was slammed open and a thin figure was hanging on to the door frame. Hatori immediately jumped to his feet and walked over to the person. The light in the hallway was off so it was hard to see. Shigure-san almost seemed to sober up as this was happening and got up and walked into the other room.
“Let me see her.” the person said as they clawed at the door frame. It looked like they could barely stand. Their robe falling off their shoulder allowed me to see just how thin they were. I shuffled back on the floor only stopping when I hit the wall.
“Let me see her.” they said again menacingly. Hatori-san looked over to me, there was pain in his eyes. I understood he couldn’t do much to stop them.
My heart raced as they came over. They grabbed my face leaving nail marks on my cheeks. My eyes started to water. I had no idea what was going on let alone what to do.
“What’s your name?” they seethed
“y/n” I squealed out meekly.
“You know they don’t like you. They never will. You should just stop trying” they dropped my face and I fell to my knees. I couldn’t stop the tears. Yuki burst through the door and looked on in horror.
“You’re right.” I whispered. Their words resonated with me. I wasn’t part of their world. They had so much more on their plate with Tohru already. They don’t need to worry about me. The person said something to Hatori that I didn’t understand and left the room. Yuki looked at me with tears in his eyes as he crouched in front of me. My tears fell like waterfalls as I cried into my hands.
“I’m so sorry, y/n-san. You should have never been a part of this,” he whispered as he grabbed my hands. “I really did like you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’ll never forget you” he kissed my forehead.
Hatori helped me get to my feet and brought me into another room. I closed my eyes as I wiped the tears away.
…..
I was walking to school as I normally do; listening to music. Left turn, right turn, wait at the light. Every morning felt the same.
#fruits basket#fruits basket the final#fruits basket angst#yuki sohma#kyo sohma#yuki x reader#yuki angst#momiji sohma#tohru honda#fruits basket 2019#akito sohma#furuba
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I love your writing!! I love reading all of them, my favourite pieces are the ones with the wolf pack and Jaskier! Small request for the three brothers rough housing and having fun with each other and Vesemir with Jaskier are walking into the room and the brothers all scatter because when younger Vesemir use to get onto the boys and they are use to the ‘last person there has to deal with Vesemir’ and Jaskier is rolling on the ground at the sight of three buff Witcher’s scattering like kids
The façade of emotionless, stoic Witchers fell away piece by piece in Kaer Morhen and Jaskier was delighted to bear witness to it. He never could have believed Geralt was capable of not only smiling but also whining like a spoilt brat. But seeing the younger Witchers’ antics, it fill Jaskier with a bitter kind of joy. They probably never got the chance to be carefree, foolish boys, at least now they got the chance to make up for it. In all his observations and indulgent peeking, Jaskier found an unlikely accomplice; Vesemir. He had been a wonderful reassurance and guide in understanding the others.
“Just wait. It’s when they sleep more comfortably that things will start to pick up.”
Never had truer words been spoken. Jaskier was all too used to Geralt not sleeping but rather spending the night kneeling in a meditative state. The few times he slept, it was with his back pressed against a wall and curled into a tight, protective ball. It seemed to be something that all Witchers took to doing, having met a few along the Path, Jaskier had seen them all resting and it was always the same. Just watching them made him exhausted most of the time, what they did, Jaskier wouldn't call rest. That all changed in Kaer Morhen.
Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't an early morning rise for Witchers during winter. It was a time for rest, to take what comforts they could in a world that so cruelly discarded them like used toys. So, more often than not, Jaskier was the first to wake and get breakfast going. He liked to wander through halls and check in on all the Witchers, making sure they were sleeping soundly. Some mornings, Vesemir joined him, though usually he would go out to the coop to let the chickens out for the day and then milk a goat if they were planning on a treat like a hot chocolate.
The two of them took to waking the others up together if breakfast was something that was better while it was still fresh and warm. So Jaskier got to see as, ever so slowly, the others relaxed into their home. Perhaps the most noticeable one was Lambert. Over the course of the week he unfurled from a tight ball until he was sprawled on his back, limbs splayed in every direction, even his fingers were spread wide. The first time they saw him like that, Vesemir smiled.
"Even as a pup he tried to take up as much space as possible. Whether it was to see bigger or because he felt he didn't get much in his waking moments to claimed them in his sleeping ones, we'll never know."
Eskel was a little more subtle. His bed filled up with throws, pillows and anything soft, including clothes from anyone in the keep. If Jaskier stared hard enough, he was quite certain he could see the frills of his missing, softest chemise.
"You'll probably just want to send Lambert in most mornings. If we'd let him, Eskel would hibernate the day away."
Really, Jaskier couldn't blame him. Eskel was nothing more than a mop of dark hair under all the bedding. He wasn't even a lump, just straight up disappeared and melded into his bed. How he could breathe under all the weight was a wonder but he seemed happy enough.
Perhaps the least obvious but most difficult to deal with was Geralt. He was a cuddler and aggressively so. There was nothing Jaskier could do to get out of his vice-like grip in the morning. He couldn't even be mad at Vesemir when he stuck his head in and promptly chuckled.
"Guess you've replaced the pillows," he said. "If you want to get up, grab one of the big pillows and he'll hold onto that. Eventually."
Sure enough, Geralt snuggled into the pillow after a little while and Jaskier could make his escape. Thankfully, the others tended to be able to get themselves up at some point. There was no official training, no chore schedule. They were all adults, they all chipped in where needed and, somehow, everything was taken care of.
This freedom also led to some more unruly times. Namely, they seemed to love roughhousing. As Jaskier had observed before, they were like over excitable puppies who never got a chance to be young and silly. They were more than abundantly making up for it now. When they weren't sleeping, they were causing mischief somewhere. Inevitably two of them would partner up against the third, usually with very loud consequences.
Even better was their reaction when caught mid-shenanigans. Jaskier was pulled into Vesemir's secret and was permitted to join the fun.
"I just love how they scramble to pretend it wasn't them," Vesemir had admitted one morning. "They're idiots but they're my endearing idiots."
Right on cue there was an almighty crash from the library, followed by a yowl and raucous laughter. Immediately, Vesemir started towards the noise with loud, measured steps.
"Listen," he urged Jaskier.
There were definite sounds of a scuffle, grunts and yelps. It was only as Vesemir turned the door handle that a cry went up.
"Shit! Vesemir! Run!"
As the door opened, Jaskier gotto see three grown Witchers falling over each other in an attempt to...who even knew what. Maybe they were aiming to sit on the couches and look presentable, maybe they were trying to flee. Eskel had somehow managed to hop up onto an armchair and was in the process of pulling himself silently into the rafters.
"Just what is going on here then?" Vesemir asked. A smile was wisely hidden under his moustache.
"Nothing!" It was a chorus of fake innocence. When Vesemir fixed Eskel with a stare, he got a few pullups out of it.
"Just exercising."
"In the library." It wasn't even a question, Vesemir's voice was full of disbelief.
"What better place to exercise the body and the mind?" Lambert piped up, edging towards the door.
In front of Geralt was a coffee table, or rather, what was left of it. He was the unlucky one to be blamed this time.
"It wasn't me!" Geralt protested, hands up to show his innocence. "I found it like this." In the silence, Vesemir stared flatly at him. Looking around desperately, Geralt gulped. "It was Jaskier!"
Nobody moved for a moment at such a brazen lie. Jaskier was behind Vesemir, there was no way it could have possibly been him. However, Jaskier was the one to recover from the shock first. "Indeed, it was me. My apologies. I took a tumble while...dusting, yes, dusting. I was dusting the-" there was nothing in the vicinity of the table, "-carpet."
Jaskier stared Vesemir in the eye, everyone aware of how bad the lie was. In the end, Vesemir nodded.
"Very well. And because I raised three very polite and kind pups, they will help you tidy away the broken table. And they'll take over the dusting from you. Can't have you falling and breaking something again. What if it's your neck next time?"
Punishment handed out, Vesemir cast his three wayward idiots a final glare.
"Well, hop to it. Breakfast can wait until you're done."
#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#vesemir#eskel#lambert#witcher wolf pack#tldr: the wolves are idiots at heart
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beautiful
pairing: cambion! lee donghyuck/haechan x reader (f) **halloweenie special**
genre: smut, supernatural au
word count: 4.6k
warnings: brief allusions to darker themes, brief thoughts/desires to harm the reader in a consensual sexual context (reader is really into it and encourages it), explicit language, sexual content, unprotected sex, cumming inside, blood, rough handling, hyuck has a big dick whoops, hyuck is also a half demon so he gets a lil sadistic you have been warned
a/n: this was really fun to write and I’m really excited to see all of your reactions after reading lol
{cambion: offspring of a demon and a human; commonly has physical deformities and can exhibit evil and malicious behavior.}
< previous | next >
~10/17/2020~
~~~~
the world you lived in now was one that society probably could have never predicted back a hundred years ago. you were sure no one thought that humans would live amongst creatures far beyond the common imagination, nor did you think that they thought the human race would still come out on top.
most would assume that supernatural creatures would have taken over the hierarchy easily, but that was not the case for this world. even though there were demons, angels, dragons–you name it, they existed– somehow the humans still ruled.
from what you could understand, it was because the supernatural were threatened since the very beginning of their known existence. unfortunately for them, the human government now had the means (and the firepower) to keep them subdued. they were essentially forced to keep their powers subdued, for the “greater good of the population”, as the people in charge put it.
ever since you were a child, there had been at least a handful of non-human children that were part of your classes at school. not many, since there were fears of bullying and harm from other students toward them, but enough to make a lasting impression on you.
at first, you were curious. you remember one instance back in grades school where you wouldn't stop staring at a young werewolf boy; too young to hide his teeth or his tail. you didn’t stare because you hated him or wanted to pick on him; you really thought he was amazing, but didn’t have the words to explain that to him at such a young age.
you’re proud to say you’ve grown a lot since then. now in college, you treated those different to you as equals, as you should. you try not to stare or question, and of course you’re never mean and you don’t bully, nor do you condone bullying.
seeing the supernatural constantly being picked on was something that always made you feel sick. they weren’t legally allowed to use their powers or strength, leaving them at a disadvantage to cowardly human bullies. you didn’t doubt that if the supernatural were able to fight back, the humans would cower in three seconds flat, and you would have yourself a good laugh.
speaking of bullies, you unfortunately had to pass by a group of girls who were berating a boy you’ve seen across campus a few times. as you walked, you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could see the boy becoming visibly more upset (or angry, rather) as time went on.
lee donghyuck was usually an individual who kept to himself, most definitely because of his genetic makeup. the experts around the school determined that he was a cambion; a half human half demon offspring, to which donghyuck apparently confirmed. people would constantly come at him for his singular red eye or the talons that were only on his left hand.
to be honest, you were always a little afraid of him. sticking up for him was very heavily outweighed by the fear he might lash out at you for helping, making him feel weak or something. but today something inside you screamed for you to help him, no matter the consequences.
you just hoped he didn’t tear you to shreds with his sharp talons.
you changed course and walked straight up to the group of nasty girls, them not even noticing you until you stepped in front of donghyuck, much to his surprise as well as theirs.
“can you guys leave him alone?” you stupidly asked, your voice not coming out as strong as you would have liked it to. the ‘leader’ of the pack looked shocked for a second, before laughing in your face.
“oh my god!” she laughed, clutching her stomach. “why are you trying to defend this freak? hoping he’ll fuck you or something?”
you felt your face heat up in embarrassment but you held your ground, not tearing your eyes away from her or moving from your spot in front of the half-demon boy.
“no,” you firmly stated, “I’m just trying to defend him from low-lifes who think it’s cool to pick on him for things he can’t control.”
you gave yourself a mental high five for maintaining your composure. you couldn’t see donghyuck’s face but you were really hoping he wasn’t angry. you didn’t turn to face him just yet.
the girl in front of you dropped her smile, a scowl replacing it as she scoffed in your face. she let out a “whatever,” before motioning for her posse to follow her as she walked away.
well, that was easier than you thought it was gonna be.
“why did you do that?” the boy behind you suddenly asked, his voice soft but it still managed to startle you. you turned to face him, putting on your biggest smile.
“I can’t stand when people pick on others for things that can’t be controlled.” you explained simply, looking him in the eye even though your heart was ready to explode out of your chest. “you didn’t decide to be what you are, so no one should belittle you for that.”
he cracked a small smile at you, and at that moment a friendship formed, whether the two of you realized it or not.
donghyuck allowed you to grow close to him, which you thought was the most amazing thing. he opened himself up to you, and you became great friends over the course of the winter semester into the spring. in turn you opened up to him, and the two of you had a pure and healthy friendship.
he smiled with you and joked around, laughing and being playful in your presence. not many people bothered him when you were around, most likely because they didn’t feel like fighting with someone, which you and hyuck were grateful for.
hyuck was always gentle; he never wanted to hurt anyone or anything, not even the smallest ants on the ground. he was very careful not to touch you, in fear he would be unaware of his inhuman strength and hurt you or accidentally scratch you with his sharp claws. you didn’t mind him being wary, but there was a part of that wished he would be comfortable enough for at least a hug.
of course you didn’t push him.
currently you sat with him in an empty art classroom, helping him with his literature paper while you painted the way the sun reflecting off the walls on your canvas. the sun touched his face beautifully, and as much as you wanted to paint him instead of the boring room, you kept your mind on track.
you worked in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence in the warmth of dusk, but of course no good thing lasts forever, and your peace was rudely interrupted as you heard the door slide open.
“hey, half-breed!” a girl shouted, causing hyuck to grip his pencil so hard it splintered completely in half, shocking you as you watched the top half fly in the air. “who’s this? your new little girlfriend?” the girl smirked evilly, looking at her painted nails before going on. “best be careful you don’t scare her away with your demonic tendencies. I bet you can’t even touch her without wanting to tear her to shreds with those ugly claws.” she snickered along with her posse of friends, and at that point you scowled at them, ready to rip them all new assholes. as you prepared to stand up to defend your friend, he stopped you with his own actions.
donghyuck let a loud growl rip through his throat, turning to face the bullies and effectively silencing them with the menacing sound. it shocked you, but you stood your ground and gripped his jacket sleeve to ground him despite your trembling fingers.
“I didn’t ask to be this way!” he practically screamed, intimidating the group standing before you even further. “do you think my mother asked for this? to have a burden of a son?” his voice was starting to fill with despair, and you could feel it inside you that he was struggling to keep his composure.
donghyuck sniffed and glared at the wall, not giving his tormentors the time of day any more.
“just leave me the fuck alone, would you?” he asked quietly, an aggressive air still present in his low tone.
one by one you watched the bullies file out, most of them shocked at hyuck’s sudden display of hostility. you supposed that they weren’t expecting him to finally fight back after all this time.
he stayed brooding beside you, and when you tried to find his gaze with your own, he shut his eyes as a stray tear fell down his cheek. before you could comment on it, he roughly wiped it away, still not meeting your kind eyes.
“donghyuck…” you whispered, your voice gentle as you tried to get his attention. “will you look at me?”
when he didn’t move or respond, you grasped his hand gently, failing to ignore the way he jumped at the contact.
“come on,” you spoke softly, tugging his arm slightly. “let’s go back to my place.”
he didn’t say anything in response, but allowed you to lead him back to your empty dorm room across campus. it was a silent walk, but you never let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem to want you to let go either, the tight grip he held on you being a clear sign.
when you arrived, you lazily pushed the door open, and led him to sit down on your creaky bed. you tried to pull your hand out of his own to go switch on the lights, but his grip only grew tighter, pulling your arm and causing you to fall down to sit next to him. you didn’t comment on the sudden slightly aggressive way he handled you; you only worried for him as he sat in the darkness of the room.
“...are you alright?” you asked, silently cursing yourself after a moment for asking such a stupid question.
he was silent for a moment, only breathing softly in the quietness in the room, before he sighed shakily and spoke up
“she should have gotten rid of me when she had the chance,” he whispered, his gaze cast downward as he shakily breathed before you. “she told me she couldn’t do it. she told me she wanted to be able to love me.”
you could safely assume he was referring to his mother, and the solemn tone in his voice made you fight back tears. you still never let go of his hand.
“I’m a living reminder of the trauma she went through…yet everyday when she looked at me, she never complained.” at this you saw a tear escape his left eye, the red iris glassy as the tears spilled forth.
“I’m a fucking monster.”
you felt your heart shatter.
here was this broken boy in front of you, claiming he was a monster for things he could have never even hoped to control. he was never malicious; he was always so gentle with everything, especially toward you. He stayed quiet when people relentlessly picked on him, never fighting back until today. as far as you were concerned, there was no way that he could ever be considered a monster, no matter what his genetic make up was or how he looked to other.
“what?” you questioned abruptly, your voice raising sightly above a whisper. “how could you say that? you’re not a monster, lee donghyuck.” he turned to look at you then, his eyes wide with curiosity as he watched you continue to speak. “you have a heart of gold. you’re always so gentle and caring with me, and other living creatures around you. you never fight back and i’ve never seen you hurt anyone.” you tore your eyes away from him, panting as you looked down at your lap, the rant you were going on making you emotional. “you are absolutely not a monster.”
he looked conflicted and turned his back to you, and you assumed it was because he didn’t want you to see what he was feeling. your hands were now apart, no longer in the comforting embrace of each other's warmth.
“...I could hurt you.” he mumbled quietly, and you weren’t able to detect the emotion in his voice. your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden statement, and you were quick with your rebuttal.
“you won’t.”
when he turned around and abruptly gripped your throat with his clawed fingers, you flinched instinctively but didn’t react further than that, challenging his angry gaze with a hard and confident stare. even though your heart was beating through your ribcage, you decided to grip his wrist with your own fingers as you looked at him, preparing to speak with a hard swallow that he surely felt against his palm.
“you can’t hurt me,” you said in a small voice, your lips quivering despite you trying your best to keep your composure. “you won’t. I know you won’t.” you continued, watching his face subtly change into one of confusion. his eyes were still transfixed on you; one crimson red like the blood flooding through your veins, and the other warm and brown, almost inviting you to get closer.
your grip on his warm wrist tightened, your other hand coming up to daringly caress his face, not hesitating to smooth over his soft cheek as he stared at you in complete awe.
“I trust you, donghyuck.”
fuck, you really wanted to kiss him.
he beat you to it though, pressing his lips against yours tightly, causing you to squeak in surprise. you kissed him back with as just as much feeling, your mouths moving together in sync. his clawed hand moved from your throat to rest on his leg (a little to your dismay, if you were being honest), and his other came up to gently caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.
“h-hyuck,” you played, pulling back only a centimeter, hips lips chasing yours. “is th-this okay? are you—“ his lips on yours cut you off, and he hummed into it before pulling away.
“I-I want you,” he stated quietly, looking down at his lap before flitted his eyes to yours once more. “if you’ll have me.”
you stared at him for a moment, overwhelming emotions filling your eyes and heart before you nodded and practically pounced on him.
the two of you kissed like there were no other worries in the world; it was just you both enjoying each other in the dim light of your room, feeling one another.
his hands didn’t touch you, but he allowed you to pull him over top of you on the bed, your back against the sheets as his body laid on top of yours.
with every moment that ticked past you grew more confident, and after a while you began fitting your hips up against his, delighted at the small friction you were creating.
“hyuck,” you whined, your hands moving to grip at the hair at the base of his neck. “pl-please, I want your fingers,” you were begging, but didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment as his lust filled eyes stared back you, his plump lips parted. “please,”
he didn’t hesitate to help you out of your clothes, careful of his claws as he removed your pants and shirt. he freed you from your underwear and bra, leaving you bare in front of his full clothed form.
his right hand delicately smoothed down your thigh, spreading your legs apart so he could take a good look at you. you were wet and you knew it, and you threw an arm over your face to suppress your moans as he experimentally drug a finger through your soaked folds.
you didn’t have to wait long for him to sink a single digit inside you, and you let out a drawn out whine in response as he started gently thrusting it in and out of your clenching hole.
“is that good?” he asked lowly, not taking his eyes off the sight of his finger disappearing inside you. he was bold enough to add a second finger and even moved his thumb to press on your clit, and you keened at the sudden feeling.
“yes, so good baby,” you breathed in response, gripping the sheets beside you on both hands.
donghyuck eventually worked up to push a third finger inside you, and you practically howled at the feeling of being filled. his fingertips pressed into all your sweet spots, making you feel dizzy.
“mmnnff, hyuck,” you whimpered, catching his attention. he looked at you with dark eyes, his mouth parted as his tongue poked out to lick his lips. “what do you w-wanna do to me?”
it was a valid question, and it seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. hyuck seemed to be holding himself back from doing what he actually wanted, or behaving like he actually wanted to.
he quickly recovered, and withdrew his fingers from you in one quick movement. he moved them to your mouth and you caught the hint, only able to take in two of them. you suckled on his digits as you stared at him with doe eyes innocently, like you weren’t sucking off the excess juices from your pussy.
“I wanna fuck you,” he simply stated, watching you like a predator as you released his fingers from your mouth. “I wanna feel you, y/n. all of you.”
you couldn’t deny him that.
you sat up quickly and moved to tear at his shirt, the fabric peeling over his head before being thrown across the room in your haste. you worked at his pants and was successful at undoing the button and zipper, and he kicked them off his legs in one swift move.
you stared at the impossibly large bulge in his boxers, but didn’t allow yourself to become intimidated.
you would make him fit. you wanted to feel him stretch you out. you would make it work.
once his underwear was discarded, you watched his cock twitch against his stomach in awe. he sat at the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor as you moved to situate yourself on his lap.
you kissed him once more before a determined look graced your face, and you positioned your entrance above him, ready to begin.
“what do you really want to do to me?” you asked him again as you sank down onto his cock, watching as his nose scrunched up at the feeling of your wet and hot walls surrounding his painfully hard member.
in your periphery you could see his fingers flex like he wanted to reach out and touch you or grab you, but he was fighting himself. you sat still in his lap, his dick buried to the hilt inside you, pressing against your cervix because of how deep he was. you reached out and grabbed both of his hands, placing them on your hips.
“I w-wanna…” he started, gulping as his hands stayed feather light against your skin, still afraid to touch you fully. you clenched your walls around him playfully, watching as his expression changed from innocent and hesitant, to cold and dark in mere seconds.
his fingers gripped you fully, but he was still careful not to pierce your skin with the talons on his left hand. his right hand gripped your hip posessively, and it felt like he was close to crushing the bone. you gasped at the feeling, but welcomed the pain.
“I wanna hurt you,” he snarled, moving forward to nip at your vulnerable throat, causing his cock to move ever so slightly against your walls. “I wanna make you scream, cry, bleed...everything.”
you gasped at his words, your pussy clenching at the thought of him absolutely annihilating you, leaving you broken and unable to function as a normal human being ever again.
he must have taken your gasp the wrong way, and definitely must have not felt your walls clamp down on him, because he pulled away from your neck to look you in the eye, looking ashamed at his confession.
“you must be scared of me now,” he mumbled, looking away. “I knew this would happ–“
you cut him off by gripping his jaw in your hands, forcing him to face you as you crashed your lips against his. you moved your hands and gripped his hair, tugging roughly as you both made out messily, your body still impaled on his insanely large cock.
“fuck, donghyuck,” you panted, pulling away. “that’s so fucking hot, please,” you began rolling your hips against him, causing you both to groan. “I w-want it, please,”
he looked at you briefly before nodding his head, a movement so slight you would have missed it if you had blinked.
even though he had nodded his head, he didn’t go rough on you like you knew he wanted to. instead, he began helping you lift yourself up and down his cock, effectively fucking you onto himself. he threw his head back and moaned, and you took the opportunity to kissing along his throat and around his adam’s apple. you shivered as he growled, feeling the deep vibrations against your lips.
it felt so incredibly good to be filled with him; your walls clamped tightly around him as you swiveled and lifted your hips up and down on his lap, continuously making the both of you moan out in pleasure. it was indescribable; the way you felt almost overwhelming and you felt wetness forming in your eyes as you buried your face in his warm neck, the tears finally spilling. your broken cries egged him on, causing his hips to lift in time with you, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you with more force.
his soft grunts and groans in your ear had your walls fluttering, and with every grind against him you felt his skin brush your clit, pushing you further and further toward your impending climax. you were more worked up than you originally had thought.
“I-I thought you wanted to hurt me,” you provoked, the pace not faltering as you fucked each other with abandon. he let out a low snarl in response, but still didn’t become rough like you really wanted him to. “ come on, hyuck,” you whined out, tugging on his hard harder.
he seemed to be growing close to his end, his hips moving faster and with less precision. an idea popped into your mind, maybe not a good one, but an idea nonetheless.
you weren’t sure if it was going to work, but it was worth a shot.
you smirked to yourself.
“c-cum inside me,” you whimpered quietly in his ear, and you heard him slightly gasp at the request. “pl-please,” you begged further, your nails digging into his shoulders in result of the stimulation you were being subjected to. “I need t-to f-feel you cum inside…”
as you trailed off he roughly gripped your hips, lifting you off him with a loud growl, causing a sharp whine to escape you at the feeling of his cock slipping from your sensitive walls.
he had you on your back in seconds; lifting your legs to wrap around his waist tightly before he grabbed your hips and hoisted them in the air, pushing his cock into you again and starting a fast and rough pace immediately.
you were seeing stars at this point, not even acknowledging the pain of his talons suddenly ripping into the skin of your right side, causing blood to trickle down onto your clean sheets. it didn’t matter to you, and in some fucked up way, you seriously enjoyed the pain.
your orgasm was building very quickly, and with one final and brutal thrust from him, you were coming undone, his cock buried incredibly deep inside you.
he held you against him as he shot his cum inside you, not allowing you to squirm away as your walls clenched hard around him to the point where it was almost painful. he growled lowly as he emptied himself in your pussy, watching your face as it contorted in pleasure with an almost sinister smirk on his face.
as you came down from your overwhelming climax, you realized that he was still hard inside you, filling you up to the brim with not only his cock, but his cum as well.
you looked up at him surprised, and he only looked back at you with that same sinister smile.
“I’m not done yet,” he growled out, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. you breathed out heavily, looking up at him and taking in the largeness of his pupils; they were blown out so wide that you could barely make out the color of his irises.
he leaned his body down over you, his head moving next to yours as his lips brushed up against your ear. his movements caused his still hard cock to nudge even deeper inside you, and you gasped at the sensation.
“can you take it?” he asked, lightly nipping at your ear as he began softly grinding his hips into you once again.
you were sensitive, but the feeling of him moving inside you had your stomach fluttering, causing your walls to clench around him. you could practically hear his smirk as he chuckled, and your heart jumped at the sound.
you breathily begged for him to fuck you again, to really fuck you how he wanted to, and of course he couldn’t say no to that.
his hips pulled back and plunged into your core, the mess of both your juices squelching and spilling out as he ravaged you completely. he kept his face buried in your neck, his panting breaths tickling your skin as he groaned out with each powerful thrust.
you gripped at his back and allowed your nails to scratch down his skin, a desperate attempt to keep yourself sane. each hoarse whine that escaped from your throat only encouraged him further, and he quickened his pace to an inhuman speed.
your clit barely needed any stimulation for you to cum again.
“I-I’m sorry hyuck, I c-can’t,” you breathed out, gasping for air. “I can’t h-hold it,”
he bit your throat lightly in response, soothing the area with his tongue before speaking.
“It’s okay, baby.” he grunted, his hips losing their rhythm slightly as he pressed on. “I’m close too. just let go.”
that was all you needed to allow the band to snap, your second orgasm washing over you in waves. you didn’t realize you had sunk your teeth into his shoulder until he moaned loudly, causing you to open your eyes as he shot his cum inside you for the second time.
his hips continued to buck reflexively, and he lifted his head to capture your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth immediately.
it was quick but passionate, and you swore you could feel every emotion he felt for you with just that one kiss.
when he pulled out, you observed carefully as his eyes watched his cum drop out of you, his pupils still wide as he licked his lips. he snapped himself out of it when you opened your arms, inviting him to lay with you as you both came down from the exertion.
you played with his hair softly in the silence of the worm, the only sounds being of your breaths. as you closed your eyes, you heard him mumble.
“I think I love you.” he said quietly, trailing his finger up your stomach.
you immediately smiled, your heart warming with happiness.
“I think I love you too, hyuck.”
#haechan smut#nct-writers#neothestars#neowritingsnet#nct#nct 127#haechan#donghyuck#lee donghyuck#nct dream#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#haechan scenarios#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#halloweenie special
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Sell My Soul
Pairing: dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader
Summary: You cut a deal with the Sheriff to save your brother
Words: 2k
Warning: non-con touching, sexual harassment, language, 18+ ONLY
A/N: No spoilers for TDATT
Part 2 Part 3
MASTERLIST
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You were shivering in the winter chill, your thin jacket doing little to protect you from the breeze. But then, your shivering was partly due to fear too. You were sitting outside the police station in a rickety chair, hands tugged deep in your pocket and a handknit woolen hat on your head. You were waiting for news of your brother who had been kicked out of the bar again after starting a fight. Seems like he punched someone important tonight which prompted his arrest and so here you were.
“Miss”, a young officer called, and you looked at him. “The Sheriff will see you now”
The Sheriff. Of course, as if tonight couldn’t have gotten worse with you dragging yourself out after midnight in freezing cold to the police station, it just did. You wish you’d worn more than a jacket, but then even if you had ten more layers on, you felt naked in front of his gaze. You entered his small office and the officer shut the door behind you. There was a large window with a view to other officers’ desk outside, so you relaxed a little.
“Y/n, lovely to see you again.” Sheriff Lee Bodecker greeted you with his condescending smirk. His eyes raked over your form with no shame and you crossed your arms across your chest. “Sit”.
You took a seat in front of his desk and twisted your fingers nervously. You tried to hold his gaze but the darkness in those blue eyes scared you.
“Can I see my brother?” You asked.
“Your brother really got himself into a spot tonight, sweetheart. You see, he punched the Mayor’s son.”
The little blood in your face drained as your heard what he said. The Mayor’s son. Your brother was a goner. They’ll have him charged with assault or maybe even attempted murder. This town was the most corrupt place you’d known, and laws were made and broken as per convenience. You willed away the tears in your eyes because he was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.
Lee looked at you with a smirk as you tried to compose yourself. He was always smirking, always amused when he looked at you. Sometimes when he managed to get his hands on you, he would smile. That smile was the stuff of your nightmares.
“How much do you want to drop the charges? I’ve got some money saved.” You said. There was going to be no court or justice here. Law didn’t work like that in this place. Bodecker chuckled.
“Sweetheart, money ain’t gonna do shit for your brother this time round. It’s the Mayor’s son.”
“I’ve got some jewelry if that will do.”
“The Mayor has no use for that. Your brother touched his precious son. He wants revenge.”
You sighed. You could have slapped your brother for his foolishness. After your parents’ passing, his care was passed onto you. No matter how well you tried to raise him, he grew up to be a little shit. You really should have worked harder to curb his drinking habit. You wracked your mind for any way to get him out and when you found none, you softly groaned. You’ll have to swallow your pride and ask for help from the last person you wanted to owe something to.
“What can I do to get him out?” You asked Lee and he grinned.
“How badly do you want him out?” He mused, rubbing his jaw, and staring at you.
“You know how badly. And I know you’ve got something up your sleeve so just tell me what I have to do”
“Now you’re talking. You were always such a quick learner.” He said and got up from his desk. He walked to the door and to your horror drew in the blinds, covering the window. He turned to your shell-shocked self with a cheeky smile.
“Put them back up. The blinds.” You said. You’d hoped that your voice will be firm, but it came out shaky. For the first time tonight, you truly felt alone with him, and that never ended well for you. His eyes often wandered and so did his hands, something that you couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried.
“Come on, don’t be like that. I only wanna help you darlin’. I know you love that piece of shit brother of yours and losing him would break that pretty little heart of yours. You know how much I care about that, don’t you?”
His hand touched your cheek and you jumped up and away from him. He was blocking the only exit and your breathing picked up as you felt trapped.
“Please don’t. I can’t deal with you right now. I just want to take him home.” You said.
Lee leaned against his desk and licked his lips.
“You see sweetheart, it doesn’t matter to me what you want. You wanna see your brother back under your roof, so you gotta deal with me. Now, come here.” He pointed in front of him and you glared. You hated this fucking town and you hated this man. For months now he’s had those eyes on you and would find ways to get you alone. At times he’d corner you in your own store and run those disgusting hands over your curves. You’d always managed to slip away somehow, but today it seemed like your bad luck had turned into a curse and time had run out.
“How can you help my brother? What can you do to ensure he’ll be fine?”
“Come to me and I’ll tell you.”
There was heat in his eyes along with challenge. He could obviously drag you, but he wanted your surrender. He wanted you to walk to him. For a moment you were tempted to let your brother rot for putting you in this position but then you steeled your nerves. Squaring your shoulders, you walked in front of him and stopped.
“Closer”
You took another step. You were less than an arm’s length apart.
“Closer”
“Sheriff, please”
“Now!”
You took the last step and you could feel his breath on your face. He looked at ease with that annoying smirk in place.
“Ain’t that easy, eh?” He said and casually pushed your hair behind your ear. You flinched and took a step away. His hand shot out and in a second it was around your waist and you were tugged flush to his body.
“Stop, let go!” You said and tried to push him away. He caught your hands in one of his before cupping your jaw harshly.
“Listen to me now. I am the only person who can save your brother. If you ever want to see him again, stop fucking struggling. You’ve been a little minx slipping outta my hands every time. But I tell you, even if you go away now, I’ll come back. I’ll keep coming until you’ll have no where to go. And once I have you, you’ll wish you hadn’t made me wait.”
Tears gathered in your eyes and when he saw them, he let your jaw go and wiped them away. Putting a hand behind your head he pulled you closer and then you felt his lips on yours. It was a bruising kiss that left you feeling almost faint. But you didn’t struggle anymore.
“You have no idea how much I want you. I see you trying to find a place in this town. I see you wandering like a lost soul. But that’s because you don’t know where you belong. And where you belong is with me. Under me.” He kissed you again, biting your lips. He released your hands and roughly tugged off your jacket from your shoulder. Your hands shot out to stop his, breath erratic as your eyes darted to the door.
“Please, not here, not now.” You knew you were pleading, but this was the only way. Your brother was the only family you had left, and you weren’t ready to lose him. “Save my brother, please. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Whatever?” He was smiling and you felt your stomach churn. This is what it must feel like trying to sell your soul to the Devil.
“Whatever.” You promised and his hands left you. You shrugged on your jacket and breathed deeply after putting some distance between you.
“You know, this town may be shit but it has at least got some semblance of law. I can get someone to confess that your brother didn’t start the fight and only retaliated in self-defense. Even this town can’t ignore an eyewitness testimony.”, Bodecker said with a smug look. You exhaled deeply in relief. You didn’t care to know if the witnesses were true or false or if your brother truly started the fight or not. You won’t lose him.
“Can I see him?”, You asked, and he nodded.
“Of course, you can darlin’. You meet him in that cell and tell him you gonna get him out. And while you’re at it, give ‘im the good news too.”
“Good news?”
“Why, the good news of our engagement of course. He’s your brother so he’s gotta be my family too right. You tell him I’ll make sure they don’t hurt him in there.”
Your legs shook and you sat back in your chair while Lee supported an ear-splitting grin. He laughed a little and came to you, a hand gently combing your hair.
“You said whatever, didn’t ya.”
You looked up at him in disbelief. Why would he want to marry you? At most you thought he’d want to bed you, take you so he could go on to finding another conquest. You thought one night or maybe a couple more at max would be all he asked for. Your body in exchange for your brother’s life. You could do that. But he wasn’t just asking for your body. He wanted the whole of you.
“Why do you wanna marry me?” You whispered and he leaned down to brush a very soft kiss on your brow. You shivered in fear. His gentleness was scarier than his roughness. That Sheriff you could handle. You didn’t know what to expect from him like this.
“Is it so surprising I want a ring on that finger? You know what happens when I think of you in my bed, in my arms? You know what happens when I imagine you cooking me a meal when I come home from work? You know what happens when I think of you, barefoot and pregnant under my roof, moaning my name as you beg me to fill you again and again? You wanna know what happens?” He snatched your hand and pressed it to his crotch over his pulsing hardness. “This happens. This is what you do to me.”
You tried to take your hand away, but he forced you to keep it there, squeezing himself through your hands.
“You’ll take my ring and you’ll wear a pretty dress and vow to obey me. You’ll love me and give me kids, lot of kids with your hair and my nose. And every night you will take my cock in your mouth and that juicy cunt of yours. Every night I want to taste you on my tongue and your softness around me.”
You did not know when he took you in his arms and pushed you against the wall but then he was kissing you. His hands roamed your body, smacking your ass and bruising you. You panted hard, confused, scared and helpless.
“No. No, please.” You cried but he silenced you with a punishing kiss and pressed his forehead to yours.
“Yes. I’ll have you. One way or another it had to happen.”
He took your hands and put them around his neck and spread legs apart by putting his knee between them. One hand cupped your breast while the other cupped you between your thighs.
“You’ll never feel empty down here. I’ll rail you so deep and hard sweetheart.”
Then abruptly he was off you and you almost stumbled off the wall. You held the back of the chair to support yourself, looking up in bafflement. What the fuck just happened here. He was back behind his desk, fiddling with some papers, a very content look in his blue eyes.
“Off you go, I’ll have someone take you to the cell. Then we can go home and celebrate.”
#dark!lee bodecker x reader#lee bodecker x reader#dark!lee bodecker#lee bodecker#the devil all the time#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader
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Can we get a sick fic Janus hiding in his room until someone else breaks down the door? Cause he thought no one would care
this is so out of nowhere bc i like never get fic requests here anymore it’s like always on my sideblog hissceit ,, but it’s 10000% welcome and appreciated JDFJFD thank u .. also i apologize for how needlessly wordy this is HAHA i strayed from the prompt like .. a lot
warnings for sickness , the coughs , vomiting, sore throat , etc , the whole shebang-- and some cursing
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It’s not that Janus had never been sick before, it’s just that...
Well, he’d never been sick before.
He wasn’t positive why (which irked him; he hated being in the dark about things, especially things concerning himself), but he had some theories- the most plausible one thus far simply being that while Thomas had always viewed the Light Sides as human, to some extent, he saw Janus as a two-faced snake; a monster kept hidden away in the shadows under his bed. And monsters didn’t get touched by things like disease. So while the others got touched with sickness occasionally, Janus never did.
But if Janus was getting sick now..
That implied that after he told them his name, Thomas started seeing him as somewhat human, too, with vulnerabilities like the rest.
He wasn’t sure just how he felt about that, but he didn’t love it (he liked being untouchable, okay?).
Ah, well, Janus supposed the why didn’t matter much at the moment. He could ponder that after the fact.
Right now was the time to think about how to end it, because it was pure torture.
He was too hot and too cold all at once, his head throbbed and his body ached in places he never knew could ache, his eyes were sore and oozing and his nose wasn’t faring much better. His throat was raw as if he’d spent hours and hours screaming at nothing, and even after trudging his way into the Dark Side’s kitchen for a cup of tea (though it was more like a cup of honey and lemon with a hint of green tea), it felt absolutely no better; in fact, he just felt worse, because he had to leave bed, go downstairs, spend twenty minutes standing around to make the tea, and then go back up the stairs to his room again.
He’d been fidgeting with his blankets for the past three hours; having them on made him too hot, having them off made him too cold, and so he settled for having one leg covered and nothing else (oddly enough, this was actually a good compromise). The air in his room was hot and stuffy which certainly didn’t help- nor did it help his sinuses any, as it made his headache pound worse and his airways were thoroughly blocked off. He dreaded drinking or swallowing anything as it sent the most uncomfortably painful sensation down his throat and rendered him to a groaning, pained mess.
He clutched his pillow weakly, pressing his head into the hot surface. He hated this. Usually, he thrived in the heat, as his room was typically colder than a jail cell, but this time he wanted it gone. He wished it was winter, just so he could full-body launch himself into a mound of snow and sleep for eternity.
He felt a slight tug, the distinct feeling of someone requesting his presence, and promptly shooed it away. Not only was he just wearing pants, but he was sick, and he’d rather die than show that level of weakness to anybody.
Three days before, when he’d first felt his symptoms come on, he’d briefly considered going to someone for help; perhaps Remus, because he was his best friend, or Logan, because surely he’d know how to handle diseases and how to cure them, or maybe even Patton, because he was a father figure and might have even made him soup- but he had quickly banished the thought. Sure, maybe they knew his name now, but they still really didn’t like him and had absolutely no reason to help him and not laugh at his predicament.
Well. Remus liked him well enough, but he would have just taken his morning star and bashed Janus across the head with it and called it good, so Janus had to pass on that.
Another tug came, a little more forcefully this time, and Janus dismissed it, just as forcefully. For a little precaution, he took a deep breath and waved his hand, locking up his room so no one could rise up/appear in it, nor could they come through his door. The strain it put on him to maintain that lock was almost enough to make him pass out, but he didn’t dare remove it; he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him in this state.
He forced his body to roll over to the side, pressing his face into his pillow and sighing in relief as his nose unplugged just enough to take a deep breath in. He found himself actually wishing he’d sneeze, just for the temporary relief it brought.
He pointedly ignored the next few tugs that hit him, though they weren’t as forceful and harsh as the past couple were. He could only assume the only reason they actually wanted him up there was to lecture him, because him being incapacitated like this surely was affecting Thomas in some way that they didn’t like.
Well, sucks to be them, Janus thought in mild frustration, I’m staying right here until this all goes away and I don’t want to die anymore.
Eventually, the incessant tugging slowed to a stop, and then they finally left him alone.
Letting out a relieved sigh, Janus curled his body into a tight ball, cringing at the sticky feeling of his sweaty skin against his silk sheets, and tried to fall asleep.
Thankfully, sleep claimed him easily, and he drifted off.
However easily it came, though, it certainly wasn’t very forgiving.
He didn't wake up randomly, but he kept getting thrown so many vivid nightmares and odd, fever-induced dreams that he almost wished he was waking up every few minutes, if only to get away from whatever things his mind kept throwing at him.
He wasn’t awake, but he was aware of his own constant tossing and turning, his bed creaking in protest every time he thrashed and threw his body around the mattress, and when he finally did open his eyes (his throbbing head wasn’t very appreciative of it), he realized he’d somehow twisted himself so his head was at the foot of his bead and his blankets had been fully tossed onto the floor. His pillows weren’t faring much better; only two of his usual six remained in place, and they were mangled to death, the rest on the floor with his blankets.
Janus truly couldn’t bring himself to give a damn- instead, he weakly pushed his body upright, trying not to topple over as his head swam, and fell right back down in the proper position. Thankfully, though, his head not touching the pillows in a while meant they were delightfully chilled, and he moaned aloud at the lovely sensation it brought him. Absently he wondered if he should gather the strength to get himself an ice pack or run an ice bath, but thought better of it. After all, he was still part snake; he’d rather not throw himself into a self-induced comatose state from the cold.
He blindly reached out and grabbed ahold of his bedside clock, a little antique thing he designed himself to fit his aesthetic despite being very poor at reading Roman numerals, and squinted as he tried to decipher how long he’d been asleep for.
He nearly dropped the thing upon realizing he’d slept for eleven straight hours.
He slid it back onto his nightstand and groaned loudly, though it quickly turned into a pained, chest-wracking cough. He couldn’t avoid it; he had to get up and eat something, or drink something, or get literally anything in his body, because whether he liked it or not, that was the only way he was going to get over this thing quicker.
He managed to move just enough to get up and off the bed (nevermind the fact he nearly fell straight on the floor the second he stood), and took a couple shaky steps towards the door. The moment he reached out to turn the knob, though, the knocking started.
He froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stared wide-eyed at the piece of wood in front of him, the only thing separating him from them.
There was a call of ‘Janus?’ that was so soft, Janus didn’t actually know who it came from; but that didn’t matter now, because the doorknob was turning and fuck, when did he let go of his lock?
Janus snapped his fingers, and managed to summon all but his hat when the door opened and revealed- much to his surprise- Virgil.
Janus and Virgil blinked at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, but thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to see anything off about him, and just lowered his gaze and shrunk into his hoodie, refusing to meet Janus’ eyes.
“We- uh, they were trying to call you earlier today, you know.” Virgil’s voice was low and gruff, and Janus could honestly say this was the best possible Side to come see him. Remus was loud and shrill, Patton was too cheery and Roman was boisterous- Logan probably wouldn’t have been awful, but with his insistence to look everyone in the eye as he spoke to them, Janus was sure he’d have deciphered what was going on in a second.
“I’m aware,” Janus replied, internally cringing at his rough tone. He cleared his throat, which was screaming in protest at speaking.
Virgil didn't seem to notice- or if he did, he didn’t care. “Well. You made them worry, and they sent me to come collect you.”
“Worr- Collect?” Janus echoed in confusion, taken off guard by everything Virgil said.
“Yeah, uh, you worried them so now they won’t take no for an answer. You’re gonna have to come with me.” Virgil, at least, seemed a little sheepish saying this, but he also has a particularly determined and frustrated look to him. Clearly, he wasn’t happy being the one picked to come ‘collect’ Janus, and he wasn’t going to take no from him as an answer, either.
“Wh-” Janus was cut off as Virgil gripped his arm, and any protests he could have made died on his tongue as they started moving. Dizziness attacked him with such ferocity that he was honestly astounded that he hadn’t immediately fallen over, and his stomach lurched at the speed they were moving. Of course, he didn’t bring this up, just took a deep breath and pushed through. After all, Virgil was the last person he wanted to know about his current state.
Once Virgil brought them across the line that separated the Dark Sides from the Light Sides, the immediate bright artificial light from the lamps and ceiling lights making his head pound in a way that was even worse than what the red light of the heat lamps in the snake terrariums in his room caused.
The air here, though, was clear and fresh, and he basked in the coolness of it as it surrounded him. If it wasn’t for the lights, he’d almost be tempted ask to stay for a while.
Once they made it to the living room, Virgil released him from his grasp, and slunk over into his own corner in the stairwell- and Janus found himself standing right next to Logan.
Unfortunately, they were all staring at him.
Time to put your acting skills to work, Janus, he thought to himself as he heaved an internal sigh, and plastered a toothy grin on his face that bared his sharp canines just enough to make them flinch away.
“So. I was summoned?” His throat protested speech, but thankfully his voice came out smooth and silky, not one bit of it hinting towards his predicament.
“Yeah, and you never answered..?” Thomas seemed more concerned than anything, but Janus definitely saw some suspicion on Roman’s expression (he couldn’t blame him, after how his name reveal went), and Patton was more fidgety than usual. Logan, bless him, didn’t seem to be acting any different, and Virgil looked just as bored as he usually was.
Remus, however...
Well, Remus was looking at Janus with a suspicious gaze similar to Roman’s but far more scrutinizing. Janus briefly felt a flare of panic. If there was anyone here to notice he was off, it would be his best friend, who he lived with and saw every day.
“I was resting, Thomas, would you blame your personification of self-preservation for taking a day off for self-care?” Janus’ tone was exasperated. He wasn’t lying, not really; he was resting, and he was taking a day off for self-care.
Just.. more than one day.
“Respectfully, I have to.. what is the term, ‘call bullshit’?” Came Logan’s voice next to him, and he hoped to God that Logan didn’t notice Janus’ feverish tremors. “You’ve been MIA for the past few days, and it’s escalated to the point where Thomas is beginning to react to it. There is something else going on, and we’d like to know what’s going on.”
Ah, yes, for the good of Thomas, Janus couldn’t help but think a little bitterly, Really, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they’d worry about my wellbeing. “I’m afraid I wasn’t bullshitting you, Logan,” Janus replied coolly, “It was the truth.”
“Then how come your room looked trashier than Remus’?” Virgil’s voice, where earlier it was comfortingly gruff, was now an offputting growl. Despite his words, though, Janus could tell he was trying to act like he didn’t actually care. He took note of that, because Virgil caring about him was odd.
“Rearranging,” Janus replied simply, and hoped they took that alone as an acceptable answer.
Of course, they didn’t.
“You never rearrange,” Virgil’s tone turned accusatory, and then Patton cut in.
“Well, maybe then that’s why he’s doing it now? For something fresh?” He sounded hopeful, as if he couldn’t wait for this entire conversation to be over. Janus felt similarly.
“I’ve lived with him, Patton, I know him, and it’s not something that happens.” Virgil argued, but this seemed to set off Remus as he cut in with, “And you left, so who are you to claim you ‘know him’?”
This sparked an argument amongst themselves, as they fought over the sudden new topic that thankfully centered around Virgil more than anything, and with Logan, Roman, and Thomas trying to mediate, there was no attention put on him anymore.
Janus took this momentary distraction to let out a sigh of relief, the mix of loud voices and trying to act like nothing was up was doing absolutely no good for his headache and exhaustion. He mourned the loss of his hat, because he could have used that to hide his face away from the lights that were bearing down on him and making his skin feel uncomfortably hot.
Though perhaps that was from all the layers of his outfit.
Unfortunately, though, as the seconds passed, the voices seemed to get louder, the lights got brighter, the clothes got hotter and his stomach was churning, his hands were sweating, his head was pounding his legs were getting shaky oh god his ears were ringing oh fuck fuck stop the noise please turn off the lights please stop please stop-
Distantly, he felt his throat start hurting intensely and he realized he was speaking out loud, stammering out pleads that were growing muffled as everything swamped him. His hands raised to cover his ears, trying to drown out the noise around him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, feeling something warm and wet trickle down his face- tears? Was he crying? No, surely he was just imagining the feeling- but before he hit the hard floor, he felt something grab a hold of him, long, spider-like fingers gripping the undersides of his arms like a lifeline. He felt sharp nails and soft ruffles and realized Remus had caught him, he must have run from his spot to catch him before he fell, and Janus felt the stinging gaze of everybody on him. He felt like a mouse that was dropped into a snake’s cage for feeding, cowering beneath the penetrating gaze of the predator before him. The roles were reversed, and he hated it.
He managed to pry open his own eyes- when had he shut them?- and the moment he saw the horrified gazes trained on him, he fled.
He forced himself from Remus’ arms and he vanished, retreating back to his room, where the lights were off and the curtains were shut and the only thing he had to deal with was the light of his snakes’ heat lamps.
The hot, stuffy air attacked him with a vengeance, though, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He stripped himself of his clothes again, his skin glistening, heat radiating off of his person.
He hurriedly locked up his room again, and fell to his knees beside his bed, and retched.
Thankfully, he’d managed to grab his trashcan, but it didn’t make him feel any less humiliated.
He thought he was doing himself a favor, hiding his state from all of them, but from not going to just one of them when he could, he had ended up breaking down in front of all of them.
Body trembling and chest heaving, Janus collapsed onto the hard floor beneath him, unable to pull himself onto his bed, and curled up into a tight ball.
He wanted this to end.
Janus was so caught up in his misery that he didn’t even notice pounding on his door, all of his senses wrapped up in himself, in his throbbing head and hot skin and burning throat and sore stomach and the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, until there was a deafening ‘crash’ and splinters of wood came flying into his room.
He flinched at the noise and forced himself to sit up, but the sudden movement made him gag, and he found himself panting like a dog trying to cool himself off and calm down his raging nausea.
There was a barrage of voices at first, but they were quickly hushed- from what, he didn’t know- and then a delightfully cold hand clutched his bicep, and he couldn’t hold back the relieved moan he let out in response.
“I’m gonna put you in bed, okay, Janus?” Came a soft voice- Remus- and Janus didn’t protest as he was gently lifted up by the Creative twin. Admittedly, he didn’t even know Remus could be that gentle, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
There was some quiet shuffling and the sound of a dull ‘smack’ and then someone cursing softly, but soon enough Janus was set down on a set of smooth cotton sheets, clean and cool, and an absolute blessing.
“Jan-Jan, why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Remus’ tone was scolding, like a parent to a young child (ironic, considering Janus was the one who raised Remus), and Janus opened his eyes just enough to see Remus’ face swathed in the shadows of his room.
“Weak,” Janus croaked in reply, his voice wrecked, “Di’n.. wan’ see.”
“Your pride is going to be the death of you,” Remus sighed, and Janus heard some other voices pipe in.
“We would have helped you, Janus,” Thomas sounded sad, almost regretful. For what, Janus would never know.
“Indeed,” Logan’s voice was a comfort, Janus was willing to admit. “In fact, I will begin researching how to best care for this as soon as possible, so you are in utmost comfort while you recover.”
“I’ll make some soup,” Came Patton’s quiet promise, “And water, and tea.”
“I changed your bedsheets,” Roman seemed shy, “If you need me to, I can try and make a set that keeps you cooled down.”
Janus almost moaned aloud at the thought, and Roman must have seen it in his expression because he perked up right away.
“Sorry for, uh, dragging you away so forcefully,” Virgil muttered, and Janus just managed to flap his hand dismissively.
“You didn’ know.” He mumbled weakly, and he felt Remus’ cool touch brush away hair that clung to his sweaty forehead.
“And now we do. So we’re going to take care of you, because we care about you.” He promised in a tone with no room for argument, with the others murmuring in agreement behind him.
And for once, Janus believed him, and let himself be taken care of.
#vanna talks#ask#anonymous#janus sanders#deceit sanders#sympathetic deceit#sickfic#fic#fanfic#sanders sides#tssides#thomas sanders#fanfiction#platonic dlamptr#with a slight focus on dukeceit i suppose#Anonymous
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Chapter 8 - Student Council President Sakura
SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER
“Oh, hello there Sakura.”
She almost lost her balance when she saw her next customers. Standing beside Kakashi with her arm entangled in his was a brunette, a spitting image of Dr. Aki Nohara, a giveaway that this was her sister. Sakura’s surroundings dimmed out of focus, and her hearing became muffled as if she was submerged underwater.
“Couldn’t mistake that green eyes for anyone,” Kakashi continued. “I’ll have a caramel butterscotch with extra whipped cream – make it super heavy – and Rin –“
“That’s supposed to be my order, you dummy,” the woman replied beside him. He chuckled in fascination and tightened his hold on her arm. “Besides, you don’t like sweets.”
“You’re still on a specialized diet so allow me to eat and drink whatever you want while you stick with – “ Kakashi glanced at Sakura, and she immediately mustered a tight-lipped smile. “One iced americano in your smallest size please. Thanks, Sakura.”
She took in a deep breath, suddenly aware that she wasn’t able to acknowledge her teacher and his companion, but so many things have been running through her head – like how did he know it was her? Why was he with Rin? Did he propose already? She hasn’t even confessed yet.
Somehow, in the dragging silence in her ears, she heard Sasuke cleared his throat. That was enough to break her from the spell, and she put on her bravest mask. “Hi Kakashi-sensei. Nice of you to drop by! I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy.”
Kakashi turned around and waved lazily at Sasuke. “One of my students is here too. Are you on a red eye advance study?”
“Can’t sleep so might as well have caffeine.”
“You’re too young to have this energy.”
Rin jokingly slapped Kakashi on the arm. “You talk as if you’re old already.”
“But aren’t I?” The pair slowly drifted away to find a table, but Sakura noticed the flash of recognition when Rin took a long good look at Sasuke, but her friend stared at them like he was throwing sharp draggers.
“He looks happy,” Sakura noted as she fixed their drinks.
“I want your favorite coffee,” Sasuke quipped out of nowhere.
“There’s a thing called palpitations. It’s caramel macchiato.”
“Might do me some good while I wait for you to finish your shift.”
Sakura sighed, feeling the tiredness come upon her all of a sudden so she relented. “Just take it to-go. I want to get out of here.”
She quickly asked permission from the manager, saying she felt sick and fatigued, and with her clocking overtime in the past few weeks, her request was immediately approved without deductions. The mixed winter and spring air hit her lungs as soon as she stepped outside. Sasuke waited for her across the street, a gesture that implied she could go to him or separate ways right now. As she vied for time to decide, she took one last look through the window.
It was a foreign sight. She has never seen Kakashi’s attention torn apart from his books. Even if he was talking, there would be an open page on his side, stealing glances on passages when the conversations got boring, yet there he was, fully attuned to whatever Rin was saying with no book around him…like she was his favorite book and he enjoyed reading every letter of her.
And Sakura realized she could never be the story he would even want to pick up.
She felt the tears coming so she started her pace on the same road. Across from her, Sasuke got the signal and went the other way.
--------------------------------
The last term of their second year came like a bazooka. Sakura threw herself on her pet project as a sort of coping mechanism. The announcement was done during the general assembly which did not generate the intended buzz or reaction. After all, it was a tricky topic to handle and many facets of which were still stigmatized when talked openly in public. Naruto, ever the people magnet, broke the agitated atmosphere in the auditorium with a slow clap and was soon joined by many others.
The council created a Google form which allowed students to anonymously register, and they get assigned a schedule on the day their contracted psychiatrist comes to visit. All they had to do was provide their designated client number. The council further complemented this with short programs that serve as mental health breaks for the student body. Sometimes, this would be as light as a block screening of a coming-of-age film or heavy like a conference with faculty and teachers and questions and concerns are remotely flashed.
Then came Valentines’ Day, and the council organized this some kind of literary showcase that presented the opportunity to mingle woes of personal sadness and griefs with confessions that would have been left unsaid. Naruto and Sasuke both helped in constructing the makeshift stage in the middle of the soccer field that would be used later that afternoon.
“Cookie points for my crush,” Naruto grinned as he hammered away. “Thanks for picking the poem I will be reciting tonight, grumpy. Didn’t know you were into literature.” He jokingly elbowed the raven-haired beside him, and he got a death glare in return.
“Do it properly. Look at that nail sticking out like your porcupine hair,” Sasuke grumbled. “And yes, I’m not as uncultured as you are.”
“But I still don’t understand it though.”
“Ugh, just use the internet to search its meaning, idiot.”
“Meanie!”
A fellow runner peeked into their work area and knocked on wood. “Hey Uchiha. Some girl is looking for you.” Her face expressed grimace, having done this for more than five times already within the span of an hour. If it wasn’t Sasuke, it was one of Naruto’s fan girls or boys.
Sasuke went to her and fumbled around for cash in his pocket. “Next time someone looks for us, tell them we went home for the day. Here’s money for your date later. If you have anyway.”
“Whatever grumpy.” The runner replied, still half-angry, half-frustrated, but she took the money all the same and told the girls that ‘They told me to tell you they went home for the day so shoo shoo.’
Naruto laughed at Sasuke’s successful attempt at bribery. “Look at that rich money. I wonder whether Sakura will give us chocolates.”
“Have you seen their office?” Sasuke flipped open the curtains that will be hang as backdrop. “Their desk is filled with chocolates from her admirers – platonically, romantically, whatever. Some people from other schools dropped by too. You got serious competition.”
Naruto chuckled nervously. “As if I do not know that already. Haven’t you told me before- she likes everyone and everyone likes her.”
Not really true at all now, Sasuke thought to himself. But ignorance is bliss, Naruto.
--------------------------------
The three sat on the grass beside the stage, having full view of the student body listening to the reciters. Throughout the program, Sakura went through each package given to her, visibly stressed with evident signs of sleepless nights under her eyes.
“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s day you two. My council-mates told me you didn’t get any chocolates,” Sakura gave each of them a pouch of small chocolate bars. Sasuke didn’t have to guess if it was store-bought or homemade based on the cuts on her fingers.
“Sakura, stop eating. I almost gagged at the seventh chocolate,” Naruto complained. He tried to get the basket of sweets from her, but she just moved it away from his reach.
“Everything tastes bitter,” she muttered under her breath. “I need sugar. My energy can’t keep up with the countless interviews. I understand that the school board liked the exposure, but the burden falls on me. At least have a teacher back me up?”
“Heard Kakashi-sensei volunteered to accompany you in interviews?” Sasuke was too late in shutting Naruto up, but the most that question got out of Sakura was an eyebrow raise.
“I need more sweets.” She proceeded to jam the rest of the Hershey’s kisses in her mouth.
“Okay, we have a submission from Uzumaki Naruto,” the announcer said. “Shout out to our rookie MVP!” A round of applause. “And who might be the recipient of this poem? We heard through the grapevine that he hid from his admirers all day. I know several people are waiting to confess to him!”
Sasuke instructed him earlier to send the poem anonymously and address it to Sakura, but the dumbass blonde mistakenly exchanged it. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he can’t bring it up right now.
“Just read the poem!” Naruto shouted on the side, clearly embarrassed now. Sakura looked up at him, genuinely curious now, and her sticky chocolate-filled mouth was on the edge of firing him questions.
“Sasuke and I sent in poems! Just to support your program, nothing really too deep into it ehe.” Naruto glanced at Sasuke with slightly widened eyes. “Right, Sasuke?”
“Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare,” the person started.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”
Sakura slapped Naruto on the arm. “Didn’t know you read Shakespeare! What a romantic!”
“Isn’t it a tragedy?” Sasuke remarked, a look of disgust in his face when Sakura mindlessly offered him a toblerone. “No sweets for me.”
Sakura guffawed at Sasuke’s remark, and her laughing was a rare sight recently. She was in too deep in her student council functions that they barely see her. And when they did, she’d be a little bit closer to fatigue.
“What’s funny? Who’s Shakespeare? Let me in on the joke!”
“Let’s call on Kakashi-sensei, our very own student council advisor and youngest teacher in the university. He’ll be reciting a poem by Pablo Neruda. A man of culture, we see,” the emcee announced.
Sakura stopped laughing as soon as she heard his name. If Sasuke could glean into her thoughts, she’s probably making up excuses to escape right now.
Kakashi stood in the middle of the stage, holding an open book. “Let me just ramble on here for a bit. Neruda is a Chilean poet and a politician, but just as much as he is a revolutionary, he is a romantic and a worshipper of ideals and ordinary things. He often compared his muses to earth and nature – basic providers of our existence. It’s interesting to see. Now, this poem is what I would have wanted to say to someone who is fundamentally part of my existence, but she won’t listen to me.” Kakashi smiled even more at the onset of outburst of giggles from the students. “So you’re gonna be the audience whether you want it or not.”
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
A thundering applause followed Kakashi’s poem and random shouts of, “Drop her name sensei!” “Good luck to your love life!” “Happy for you, sensei!”
As the lights went out on the stage, Sakura fished another pouch from her vest pocket, and Sasuke knew at once that it was Kakashi’s. She popped a bar into her mouth, staring blankly ahead.
“God, it’s so bitter.” Her lips started to quiver, and she started to cry.
Naruto threw a worried glance at Sasuke, but his expression must have given something away because the blonde didn’t prod, and he looked as if all the puzzles fell into place.
Sasuke just didn’t expect to be confronted about it as soon as the program finished. He was carrying blocks of wood to the shed when Naruto dropped the question – a question he already knew the answer to.
“You like Sakura.”
Sasuke inhaled sharply and halted his steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stacked the wood against each other and turned to face the blonde. “Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about exams?”
“What exams? We’re exempted from it,” Naruto bristled.
Sasuke smirked. “No, you’re not. You didn’t qualify for finals.”
“Oh shit.”
--------------------------------
“What do we get in return?” Sakura asked as she munched on her bento box. Shouts of the practicing dragonboat team filtered through their space.
“But last time you volunteered!” Naruto said.
“We’re friends so my services don’t come free anymore,” she chided back.
Naruto glared at Sasuke. “If she’s not gonna do it, you’re gonna do it.”
Sasuke nonchalantly shook his head as he skimmed through Naruto’s notes. “What she said.” They weren’t notes per se, but doodles of Sasuke and Sakura and interestingly, projections of different batting stances. “I’m also not gonna forgive you with the duck butt hair.”
“But you have a duck butt hair!” Naruto crossed his arms and huffed menacingly. “Ramen?”
“Same old, same old.” Sakura finished her lunch and started to sip her cranberry juice. “Give us something new.”
“Ramen and…..karaoke?”
Sakura brightened up at the prospect. “Deal.”
“At least add snacks to your place,” Sasuke interjected. “And not just ramen. Put some nuts or fruits in your fridge.”
Naruto grumbled but raised two thumbs up in defeat. “Deal.”
--------------------------------
Sasuke has thin patience when it came to teaching Naruto, Sakura observed. She didn’t know how these two managed to do the supplementary math lessons when she wasn’t a part of their group yet. She didn’t mind teaching, but Naruto’s short attention span was a devil of its own. He would be attentive to her for 15 minutes and then drowse off so Sasuke and her agreed on non-negotiables.
“No ramen break for you if you don’t finish this set of problems,” Sakura told him.
“You’re demon spawns,” Naruto cried out in defiance.
“If you don’t get a passing score on this sample test, no kani toppings for you.” Sasuke raised the stakes.
“Demon spawns,” Naruto repeated.
“You won’t call us demon spawns if you see your name on the list of passers.” Sakura started the stopwatch on her phone. “Now go.”
This took her mind off things, from Kakashi’s public confession to the blank career form hidden within the pages of her history textbook. It was a good distraction until the penultimate exams day. Naruto came in with a bandana on his forehead with FIGHTING written in the middle of it. Sasuke, as usual, breezed through it, already finished by the thirty-minute mark.
And she? Well, she liked exams. The time limit and the pressure allowed her the reprieve to shut the rest of the world out so she relished answering each number until the bell rang. It was a moment where she can focus fully on the paper in front of her, the sound of her pen scribbling, and her mind working full force to cull out the answers in her memory. Her utmost concentration on questions suspended her own questions on her feelings for a teacher, on her parents’ divorce, on her future.
When the school plastered the results on the bulletin board, she couldn’t help but release a satisfied chuckle. She turned to Sasuke who was surprisingly stoic about the results. “First place! The bonus point really helped.”
“Why should I bother with a teacher’s middle name for the bonus question?” Sasuke grumbled back. “Congrats. Stop rubbing it in my face already.”
Naruto was too busy pointing his name on the board and bragging about it to the student body, most especially the freshies. When he found them on the back of the crowd, he rushed to them and placed his arms around their shoulders “Drinks on me!!!!!”
--------------------------------
“He really shouted drinks on me in the middle of the school, sauntered in here like he’s loaded, and ordered two pitchers of iced tea.” Sakura kept bringing this up since they entered the karaoke room ten minutes ago.
Naruto was preoccupied with inputting song numbers on the machine to respond to Sakura’s banters. “Technically, they’re still drinks!”
Sasuke was on the phone with the kitchen, and from what she could hear, he was ordering almost everything on the menu. When he sat down on the adjacent couch, Sakura leaned forward to him. “Are you gonna finish all of that?”
He jutted his index finger to Naruto. “No, but he will.”
The first notes of Michael Jackson’s Thriller wafted through the room, and the blonde made a quick impression of the artist’s famed moonwalk.
“Why are you opening with that?” Sakura cried out in amusement. “It’s not even Halloween!” Sasuke watched Naruto try to dance with a straight face, but she thought he was itching to face palm the whole time.
Naruto kept beckoning Sakura to join him in the middle of the room, but she was busy laughing at him and taking videos. “I’ll send these to Haru as a pick-me-up. I think this is the best remedy.”
Next was Sakura’s pick – Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. She couldn’t contain her laughter in between verses when the two boys finally heard that she was tone deaf. Naruto joined her with the other mic, trying to drown out the off-key notes. By the bridge, Sasuke stood up with them, a glass of juice in his hand, and mouthed the words.
“You know this song!” Sakura said excitedly.
“I don’t live under a rock!” He yelled back amid the loud music.
“OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S WORTH OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH. THEY SAY IN HEAVEN, LOVE COMES FIRST. OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH!”
“Okay who’s next?” she asked when the next number flashed on the screen. Sasuke silently took the mic from her and faced the monitor with a hand in his pants’ pocket.
Naruto gripped the mic harder when the song started. “I’ll be your second voice, grumpy!”
She immediately went to the front and started recording. “One for the road.”
“No videos, Haruno,” Sasuke warned.
“Come on, it’s my remembrance,” she whined. He wasn’t able to clap back when the lines started to move.
“Turn around…” Naruto sang.
“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round,” Sasuke’s baritone voice filled the room like an empty coliseum.
“The fuck. You can sing?” Sakura gasped out loud. “How can you have that voice and not sing - like you know, every day?!”’
Sasuke gestured her to stop as he belted, stoic-faced, through the chorus with Naruto singing like a slaughtered pig in the background. Sakura stopped recording and joined them for the rest of the song.
Two hours and three pitchers of orange juice later, they finally settled on the couch and munched on Naruto’s leftovers of fries, buttered chicken, nachos, and calamari. On the karaoke monitor was David Bowie singing Heroes.
“Can’t believe we’re already seniors two months from now.” He stared at the ceiling, his eyes following the tag game of disco lights. “Elections of officers will be tomorrow which means Captain Haru will be formerly stepping down.”
Sasuke reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck next captain.”
Naruto immediately pulled out from his grasp. “What do you mean next captain?”
Sakura chuckled and patted his back as assurance. “Everyone knows it’ll be you. Have you seen how your teammates look at you when you’re discussing strategies?”
In the dimness of the room, she saw the flush on Naruto’s cheeks, and she found it amusing how he cannot take compliments.
Naruto scratched the back of his head. “Well, everything is possible, right? That said, I still haven’t filled out my college form, but I’m really set on getting an athletic scholarship and eventually be part of the national team! How about you grumpy? Changed your mind yet?”
“About what?” Sakura glanced at the silent raven-haired guy beside her. To be able to see this much of him was a nice privilege.
“I’m moving away after high school.” Sasuke fiddled with his half-empty glass, his eyes trained on the slushing juice. “I already sent applications to some universities in Europe.”
“We also have good medicine programs here. I don’t get why you have to move away so far. I’m so bad with converting time zones.”
Sasuke scrunched his nose in annoyance. “Are you dumb? The schools you listed are also out of this district.”
She seemed to be moving farther and farther from their exchange. Like an outsider peeking in, she understood the frailty of the moments in front of her, and by the time the next two months set in, the stopwatch would have started running its last lap. The bonds she has made so serendipitously were in danger of being cut off by dreams. She breathed in, engulfing the noise and scent of this room, panning every color and shape assembled like supercut in her head, praying that someday if she would lose herself, she’d come back here right at this frozen memory and relive the wonderful indecisiveness of adolescence and the chance to say I don’t know without repercussions.
“Sakura to earth?” Naruto’s voice.
“Idiot. It’s earth to Sakura.” Sasuke’s voice.
She blinked fast, returning to the moment that wasn’t finished playing out yet. She quickly brushed her hands on her eyes as if something got into her eyes, hoping they don’t see the small droplets of tears that have formed. “Oh uh, I have a list of prospects, but I’m not quite sure what to take.” The form was still blank actually.
“That’s a usual problem of anyone who’s too good at everything,” Sasuke replied.
“Are you complimenting me?” I wish I was.
“Should I take it back?” He proceeded to gulp down the remnants of his glass.
The monitor suddenly turned off, indicating their time has run out. “Hey guys, for our last term, let’s make the most out of it, all right?” Naruto asked. “I’m so happy we became friends.”
“No hugging please,” Sasuke said, but it was too late. Naruto’s arms were too strong to pull away from so the two allowed him a few seconds of skinship.
Naruto’s words struck a chord in Sakura; it was a resolve she tried to form and disfigure for several months now. Before they could stand up to fix their things, Sakura blurted it out loud before her courage took the best of her.
“For our last term.” She flexed her fingers and curled them up against her palm, placing weight on her lap as she ground her fists onto it. “For our last term, I’m gonna confess to Kakashi.”
AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 9
#SCPS#student council president sakura#sasusaku#uchiha sasuke#haruno sakura#uzumaki naruto#hatake kakashi#kakasaku#narusaku#anime fanfic#fanfic#sasusaku fanfic
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Kiss With A Fist
Bucky decides to ask an old acquaintance for some help before landing in Madripoor.
Content Warning: violence, stabbing, blood, smut, choking, light gunplay, swearing, hate-fucking?
Berlin, 2013
Her cool exterior did a great job of hiding the adrenaline that ran through her veins as she stared at the man sitting on her couch. She knew why he was there. She’s heard the stories.
With a careful hand, she reached under the counter to grab her pistol and stalked towards him, slowly tucking it into the waistband of her jeans while her other hand held a glass of orange juice.
“I assume you’re here to kill me?”
The man said nothing, long dark hair, obscuring his eyes. He just sat there, watching her.
A sigh of exasperation left her lips.
“Well, if you’re going to break into my home, you should at least answer my question, Winter Soldier.”
Still, he said nothing.
Her manicured fingers gently placed the glass onto the coffee table. She took a seat on the couch, her eyes never leaving him.
“Answer my question, James.”
Her lips twisted into a smirk as a strange look flashed across his eyes.
Silence hung in the air with the exception of her ticking clock. They stared each other down, waiting for one or the other to make a move.
His low voice broke the silence.
“That’s not my name.”
A giggle passed her lips. She was unsure if it was curiosity or sadism, but she wanted to see if she could break him. Make him crumble. Pull him out of the decades of brainwashing. “You sure about that, James?” Her fingers slowly grazed over the black muzzle obscuring the lower half of his face. “Or should I call you Bucky?”
A cold metal hand clamped down on her wrist just as she hooked her fingers onto the rough fabric.
“No. I’m not Bucky.”
“Yes,” She hissed. “Yes, you are.”
She tore herself from his grip, letting the mask fall onto the velvet upholstery.
“You’re name is James Buchanan Barnes. You served in the 107 division during the Second World War.”
“Be quiet.” He grumbled.
She, however, refused.
“Your friends call you Bucky. I know Steve Rogers certainly does.”
His eyes widened, a flicker of familiarity crossed his eyes.
“I read about it in a history magazine. Quite interesting you know?”
Her fingers gently reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.
“Now, don’t you know want to know my-”
Her words halted as she felt the tip of a blade poking through her sweater.
“Oh, James. You can’t.” She laughed sarcastically. “You won’t.”
“I will.” He snarled.
She let out an animalistic cry as the blade dug into her skin. The wet sound of blood and tearing flesh loud in her ears. Seering hot pain burned in her abdomen, as a dark red spot formed on her sweater.
“I have to.” He stated.
Her chest heaved as blood gushed from the wound. The circle of red on her pale blue sweater becoming larger and larger.
“Bucky,” She gasps. “It hurts!”
His once cold, stoic look is now replaced with panic.
“Don’t pull it out” She stammers, but her words fall on deaf ears.
Blood gushed from her wound as he gripped the knife, pulling it back towards him.
“I said don’t pull it out!” She screamed. “I said- ah!”
Pain shoots through her body as his palms press on the wound, the once shiny metallic hand now covered in her blood.
He was going to kill her, she thinks. She was going to bleed out on her couch.
She reached for her pistol and aimed for his head but he ducked out of the way, rolling onto the floor.
Another bullet whizzed past him as he gets up.
She’s stumbled backward, a hand pressed against her bloody wound. This wasn’t how she wanted to go.
Her eyes narrow as he grabbed the throw blanket on her couch. She shoots again, the bullet hitting his metal arm, a loud clang of metal on metal echoing through the room.
“Fuck!” She yelled as she pulled the trigger once again. The bullet got him in the shoulder, ripping through his jacket.
As she bolted out of her apartment, she spotted him following after her. His hand reached for the front door as she slammed it onto his fingers. She slammed it again, hearing the sound of a sickening crunch before running down the empty hallway.
Amsterdam 2023
“Are you going to tell us why we’re in Amsterdam?” Sam grouses.
“I know someone there.” Bucky huffs. “If there’s someone who knows Madripoor like the back of their hand, it’s her.”
“You realize-” Zemo interjects.
“Shut up.” Sam snaps. “Who is this ‘she’ anyways?”
“An old acquaintance.” Bucky reaches into his jacket, making sure his pistol is tucked securely in the pocket.
“Is she a friendly acquaintance?”
He’s quiet for a second.
“You’ll see.”
…
She’s aware that someone has broken into her loft the second she steps through the door. Her fingers wrap around the large butcher knife and she kicks off her heels.
The shopping bags fall onto the hardwood floor with a soft thud as she takes careful steps, ears picking up every small sound in the room.
“Hi.”
She whirls around and throws the knife. It lands on the wall, half of the large blade stuck into the wood. A few centimeters next to it was a familiar face. A familiar face who had stabbed her ten years ago.
With an enraged howl, she charges towards him and wraps her hands tightly around his neck.
She’s angry. Very, very angry.
He throws himself downward, sending her back onto the floor.
“Why are you here?” She screams.
“I don’t want-”
She lands a swift punch at his jaw and scrambles upward, pulling the knife from the wall.
“I’m not here to fight!” Bucky yells.
She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t want to listen. Her arms raise the knife and swing downward but he rolls out of the way.
“Really?” She snarls, slowly standing up, leaving the knife stuck to the ground. “Because the last time I saw you-”
“I’m sorry about last time!”
“An apology isn’t going to cut it.” She hisses.
Her knee meets his abdomen, causing him to stumble backward. She uses this as an opportunity to send a swift kick at his face.
Before her foot meets his nose, he grabs onto her ankle and pulls, tumbling onto the ground. His palms slap into the floor, one of each side of her face.
“Just listen!” He gasps, chest heaving.
“No.” She spits. Without a second passing, she rams her forehead into his. While he groans in pain, she grabs a paring knife and throws it at him.
“Just- shit!” Bucky rolls out of the way as the blade nicks his ear. “Look, my friends and I need your help!”
She quickly straddles him, thighs pressing down on his hips. Her fingers wrap around the handle of the knife and she presses the blade against his jugular.
They’re practically nose to nose and she can smell the fragrant scent of his aftershave. It’s woodsy.
“Give me one good reason not to slit your throat.”
“I- I-” He stammers. “I just want to talk. I’m not here to hurt you.”
She’s skeptical, her fingers still wrapped around the handle with a tight hold.
“Prove it.”
A surprised yelp leaves her lips as he kisses her. Her grip on the knife loosens and it drops onto the floor.
In the heat of the moment, she kisses him back, letting desire replace the anger that rushes through her veins.
She stares down at him with wide eyes.
“Who did I just kiss?” She questions him. “James or the Winter Soldier?”
“James.” He breathes, chest heaving. “You just kissed James.”
“Do you want to kiss me some more, James?”
“Actually, call me Bucky.” He smirks.
“Alright, Bucky.”
Her lips meet his again and he kisses her back with hunger.
She gasps into his mouth as he bites down onto her lip.
“You’re hair is longer.” He mutters, a playful smile on his lips.
“And yours is shorter. Now, keep kissing me.”
She throws all her inhibitions out of the window, grabbing at his jacket.
“Fuck!” She pants as he gives her hair a swift yank. “Wait, get up, get up!”
Bucky sits up, worry in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I should-”
“No,” She stares at him, taking in the sight of his lips, shiny with spit. “If you’re going to fuck me, it shouldn’t be on the floor.”
She stands on wobbly feet, walking backward until her back is pressed against the wall.
She wets her lips with her tongue, heart beating fast as she watches him make his way towards her.
They’re now standing chest to chest. Her eyes gaze into his as he lifts her chin with a cold metal finger.
“Do I scare you, angel?” He breathes.
Her chest is rising and falling. Electricity courses through her veins.
“No.” She gives him a cocky smile.
His expression darkens.
“Do you want me to scare you?”
She swallows and nods.
“Use your words.”
“Y-yes.” She stammers.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes. I want you to scare me.”
Slowly, he places his hands on her shoulders and presses her towards the ground. She lowers herself to her knees and stared up at him with wide eyes.
“Crawl.”
“What?”
Bucky kneeled down and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
“I want you to crawl to the bedroom and if you question me again, I’ll make you regret it.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. With shaking hands and legs she began to crawl, Bucky slowly following behind her.
“I don’t have all day.” She jumps at his voice. “Hurry up.”
She swallows and picks up her pace.
Her palms and knees ache by the time she crawls through the entrance of her bedroom but before she could catch her breath, Bucky loops his arms underneath her armpits to pull her up. She yelps as he pushes her onto the bed.
Her blood ran cold as she hears the click of his gun.
“Don’t worry, it’s not loaded. Now, look at me.” He traces her jaw with the barrel and she can feel her underwear dampen with arousal.
Somehow, she still feels the urge to get cocky with him.
“Is that really how you greet an old friend-” Her words are cut off when she feels cold metal squishing her cheeks.
“Don’t get bratty with me pretty girl.” He declares. “I won’t hesitate to leave you high and dry. Understand?”
“Yes.” She whimpers.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
She’s taken aback by her own words but from the looks of it, so is Bucky.
She squeezes her eyes shut, face burning. His breath is hot against her neck. All she can do is let out a quiet whine.
“Good girl.”
His teeth sink into her neck as he sucks a dark mark by her jaw.
“Shit!” She exclaims but he presses his palm against her lips, the metal cold on her skin.
“Watch your language.” He growls.
She sucks in a breath when he removes his hand from her face.
“Please, I need- I need you, now.”
“No.”
“Bucky, please!”
His fingers wrap around her throat.
“You really need to learn some manners.”
His tone is rough, dominant. It’s aggressive and she loves it.
Dizziness clouds her head but she doesn’t know if it was from arousal or the lack of oxygen.
“First,” He hisses “You slammed a door on my fingers ten years ago, then, you threw knives at me when all I wanted to do was talk. Now, you’re begging me to make you feel good when all you’ve done is give me attitude.” He lets go of her throat and forces a finger in between her lips when she gasps. “So, I want you to be a good girl and suck.”
Her lips wrap around the metal and she diligently sucks at the digit.
Slowly, she reaches up to wrap her hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as she grazes her teeth against the metal.
He’s entranced by her. All pliant and submissive underneath him. She’s always been a fighter. He knows that, yet here she is, obedient, just for him.
The Angel of Death. That’s what they all called her. HYDRA, SHIELD, The Avengers. To them, she was a weapon. An agent of chaos.
Almost no one knew who she was and in some twisted way, Bucky felt honored to be the few people who knew who she was and what she looked like.
She’s deadly and for good reason. Maybe she was deadlier than him. He’s learned that she kills with no remorse, painting her past red with blood.
After Steve had saved him, she’d cross his mind and visit him in his dreams.
He’d lay awake at night, thoughts about her crowding his mind. At first, he wondered if she was like him. A super-soldier, programmed to kill. Or maybe she was like Natasha. Raised in the Red Room and had no qualms about the people that fell victim to her.
But one day, while staring at the sunset, he came to the conclusion that she was a free bird. One with no master. Instead of being met with demands for mission reports, she would be met with wads of cash and the satisfaction of a job well done.
He thinks about what she feels when she kills someone. He wonders if she can feel anything at all.
The way that she makes him feel, the desire that burns through him, it’ll kill him.
Even when she’s lying under him, eyes glazed over in submission, her gaze is still sharp and calculated, watching his every move.
He trails the gun down her sternum and lifts up the hem of her blouse, exposing the soft skin of her tummy.
“Beautiful.” He mutters, leaning down to press a kiss beneath her navel, right next to the scar he left on her skin.
He pulls his finger from her mouth and places the gun next to her.
With careful hands, he unbuttons her blouse, trying not to rip the delicate fabric.
She sighs with pleasure as his fingers graze over her skin. Her shoulders shake as she shrugs the clothing off of her body, revealing a white, lacy bra.
He hungrily tugs at the waistband of her jeans and she kicks them off, letting them pile on the floor.
“Please.” She whimpers, feeling his fingers grip her thighs. “Please, Bucky.”
“Patience, angel.” He groans. “I’m gonna make you feel good, you just have to be patient.”
He presses a wet kiss on her hip and bites, grinning at the yelp that slips past her lips.
Slowly, he pulls her lacy underwear down her legs, letting it drop onto her discarded jeans.
The moan that falls from her lips is music to his ears when he sinks a vibraniun finger into her wet cunt. He can feel his cock straining against his jeans but all he can think about is making her feel good. Maybe he’s subconsciously apologizing for stabbing her.
“Feels good?” He asks.
“Mhm.” She closes her eyes, her head falling into the pillow. “So good.”
He can see how wet she is, fingers glistening with her arousal.
“Fuck!” She gasps, as he adds another finger. Despite the fact he reprimanded her for her language, he decides to let it slide this time. Next time, he thinks, she may not be so lucky.
“You’re soaked, angel.” He mutters, fighting the urge to dive into her cunt.
“Because of you.” She whines.
He reaches forward to grab at her waist, pulling her closer to him. She arches her back, trying to push herself closer to his face. To his mouth.
“Need my mouth?”
“Yes.” She desperately wails.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, please! Please, Bucky-”
“No, what was it you called me earlier?”
She bites back a cry.
“Please, Sergeant. Please! I need your mouth on me!”
He hums, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin of her thighs.
“Are you going to be good for me?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Are you going to close your legs? Make it difficult for me to enjoy your sweet cunt?”
“No! I’ll be good! I promise!”
“Promise?”
“Yes! I promise, Sergeant!”
He’s no longer holding back. He can’t hold back.
He removes his fingers and licks into her, reveling in the sounds spilling from her lips.
His tongue swirls around her clit and a loud moan reverberates through the room.
No, he can’t have that. Can’t have her neighbors, or Sam, or Zemo hearing her. He wanted to be the only one.
She whines when he stops.
“Why’d you-”
His lips press against hers.
“As much as I love hearing you, sweet girl, I need you to be a bit quieter.”
Her lips are parted and her pupils dilated. She quickly nods.
He doesn’t know what makes him want to do it. He spits, letting saliva splattering on her cheek. He gently swipes it with his fingers, smearing her arousal and his spit against her cheek.
“Can I-”
“What do you want, baby?” He questions. “Words.”
She whines and grabs at his hand, pulling his wet fingers towards her mouth.
He yanks his hand away.
“Ask nicely.”
“Fingers. Can I have-”
“You want my fingers in your pretty mouth?”
She nods, so fast, he almost worries she’ll get whiplash.
“Alright.” His fingers sink into her mouth, eyes narrowing at the grin that stretches across her face.
He returns to her licking cunt, swiping his tongue all over her.
The taste of her intoxicates him. He just can’t get enough.
His right hand takes hold of her hip, keeping her still on the bed.
She squirms in his grip and he responds by tightening his hold on her.
The little whimpers and whines vibrate against his fingers and it spurs him on, licking deeper into her.
The fire in her tummy burns hotter and hotter. Her head is swimming as she’s right on the edge of her oncoming orgasm.
“I’m gonna- ah!” She whines around the fingers in her mouth.
“You’re gonna cum, angel?” He hums against her.
“Mhm.” A tear slowly rolls down her cheek.
“What did I say about words?”
“Yes! I’m gonna cum!” She sobs. “I wanna cum! Can I? Please?”
“Asking so nicely.” He chuckles. “Such good manners. Go ahead. Cum for me, angel.”
A cry leaves her lips as she feels the wave of her orgasm crashing over her, hands grabbing at the sheets and feet digging into the mattress.
Her breath is heavy as she comes down from the euphoria. She smiles tiredly at Bucky’s smirk.
“Didn’t know you were so good at that.” She comments, slowly sitting up against the headboard.
Bucky crawls up the bed and gently kisses her. Affection blooms in her chest
“You were too busy being mad at me, you never bothered to ask.”
She closes her eyes and sighs.
“You did stab me ten years ago. Don’t forget that.”
He rubs his nose against her jaw, pressing a kiss on the hickey he left behind.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“All is forgiven. Thanks for the head, by the way.”
Her legs swing over the mattress and Bucky watches as she picks up her clothing. She’s beautiful, he thinks, much like the femme Fatales he used to see in the black and white movies he used to watch.
“Here, let me.” He stands, helping her button her blouse.
A feeling of deja vu overcomes him as she traces his jaw with gentle fingers.
“I like your new arm, by the way, much better than the old one.”
“Thank you.” He smiles. “That stab wound healed pretty well.”
“Yeah.” She runs a finger over the marred skin. “I was supposed to stay in the hospital for a few days but I left a few hours after waking up.”
“That’s not really safe.” He chuckles, watching her pull her jeans past her hips.
“Neither is trying to kill an assassin.”
“You aren’t going to let that go, aren’t you?”
“Not yet. Maybe in a few years though.” She giggles. “How do I look?”
He tilts his head, taking in her flushed cheeks and mussed hair.
“Absolutely deadly.”
The two jump as they hear the front door open and shut.
“Were you two fighting or fucking?” Sam yells from the kitchen.
She grins and runs her hands through her hair.
“Come on, Bucky,” she sighs. “I think we have some explaining to do.”
...
Special thanks to @sojournmichael for being my beta-reader! ilysm!
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Interdimensional Moms part 2
Part 1 <-
Yang:Okay Weiss, your turn.
Weiss:What!? Why me?
Blake:Because you’ve been bouncing in your seat all through Yang’s story. You clearly want to gush about your kids.
Weiss:Pffft, What!? Nooooo, a little. Hehehe I can’t believe I’m that obvious. *smiles*
Ruby:Aww look at you, I never believe Weiss Schnee could look as warm as campfire.
Yang:And wearing mom jeans!? Little jealous that you still look completely gorgeous. Why does mom energy make you prettier?
Weiss:What can I say? I’m great. As far as my universe goes, I argue that I’m the strongest mom!
Blake:Such a bold claim.
Weiss:I carried twins! *points to self* this body handled two buns in the oven!
Ruby:Couldn’t be me. *shutters* I’d sooner loose an eye. Speaking of eyes, your scar has a friend. Got this whole upside down cross basically.
Weiss:Oh that? That’s uhhhh- how would I even explain this?
Yang:And your hair! It’s short!
Ruby:Yeah you’re just a surprise all over.
Blake:Guys, let her start from the beginning!
Ruby and Yang:Oh right. *covers mouths*
Weiss:(Yep, they’re the same sisters anywhere.) Thank you Blake. Now then...a good starting place? Well I suppose I could lay the ground work of Jaune and I getting better acquainted. It was about two weeks into reaching Atlas. Winter learned I got impaled and berated me not giving any kind of thanks. Since I had waited so long to do so, words wouldn’t do for her standards and she made me take him to a proper dinner. I think it was that night we actually talked openly to each other. A piece of me was annoyed at first because I thought he’d get the wrong idea again. But...he didn’t. He was just happy to spend time with me. That’s when I realized he had changed a bit *red* and apparently I changed too. Sigh, because that annoyed feeling was actually me forming a crush.
Blake:Looks like you changed more than he did. I think we can all agree that we’re pretty rough to deal with at Beacon in the beginning?
Yang:Hell yeah!
Ruby:Preach! Hehe, but it meant you grew the most too.
Weiss:Hey! You’re all assuming that I was terrible! Who knows, I could a Saint compared to your Weiss. Maybe I was a sweetheart at Beacon.
RBY:.....
Yang:Were you?
Weiss:*red* I’ll never tell.
Blake:(That’s just a no...) Two weeks into Atlas huh? I bet feelings raged whenever the whole place was under attack huh?
Weiss:W...What attack? Barely anything happened in Atlas.
Blake:Excuse me?
Ruby:Pfft what? You’re joking right? There wasn’t any threat of things falling out the sky or war threats?
Weiss:No? We showed up, put the relic in vault, and took time fortifying things while planning with Ironwood. The most exciting thing was a grimm wave and two of Salem’s goons showing up at a ball, but we handled that.
Ruby:....I...that’s...oh my head.
Blake:So what you’re saying is time in Atlas was a piece of cake?
Weiss:Well I had to deal with my father and and a lot of other family drama so I wouldn’t say it was cake. It was actually very stressful.
Yang:Well I think we found the massive shift between worlds. Atlas was different. I would say I dealt with anything like falling kingdoms. Atlas for me was one long Mission Impossible sequence. Espionage, jail break, fake deaths, but please continue with your love story.
Weiss:You sound a little envious. Anyways there isn’t too much of anything to tell in that part. Dates, fighting together, sibling healing, I was disowned publicly, Penny was being amazing-
Blake:You were disowned?
Ruby:(Penny is...alive? Huh, well, imagine that?) .....
Yang:*whispers* You okay Rubes?
Ruby:Yeah, processing. Hey Weiss? Not to control the narrative or anything, but how is your Ruby exactly? I get the feeling she’s quite different from me somehow if things like the adventure in Atlas are different.
Weiss rubbed her chin. She could tell the Ruby in front of her was pretty perplexed by the differences so far. In fact, Weiss could tell mentioning Penny made them all flinch a little. It was safe to assume they all hadn’t heard that name in a very long time. It made her feel a little bad. Did she somehow get a more ideal world?
Weiss:I think I might be able to answer that if you could humor me by getting a little further into my world’s reality? I don’t know how but I do get a since the two of you might have a key difference.
Ruby:I’m all ears.
Weiss: Blake, I’ll circle back to being disowned a little later. It’s one of the biggest reasons I am who I am now. Let’s see now, ah, the plan. After Atlas was infiltrated it was hard to save face to the rest of Remnant. That was until the world learned about Salem. It was a secret that was doing more harm than good at this point. On that day, our journey really began for us. Team RWBY wasn’t just four girls and their friends. It was one of four four girls commanding troops, organizing meetings, rallying others. We were the face of a revolution: along with JNPR of course.
Ruby:The world just...believed in Salem?
Weiss:There were plenty skeptics, but it’s harder not to believe it. Pen- our winter maiden, showed off magic. Then the others on our side followed the example. We had two relics to show off from the start, and a variety of ways to explain questions throughout history that nobody could answer before. We gave humanity’s suffering a face. People were more than eager to cling to it. From that point it was hard for Salem to make a move that wouldn’t give further validity to our story.
Ruby:An army huh, lead by us?
Weiss:Yep, mainly you when it came to the battlefield. You were anxious at first and definitely made moves that you regretted. But...after some time and experience, you stood tall in front of dozens to give a speech the night of the final battle. I still get chills. There wasn’t an eye that wasn’t on you. A person who didn’t want to march into battle with you. I don’t think I ever seen you more sure of where you were meant to be.
Ruby:Is that so? Hmm, I think...I think I get it now. Your Ruby must’ve stumbled quite a bit, but had people by her consistently. It was other’s strength that enabled her to get stronger. How old was she when the war was over?
Weiss:It ended on her twenty first birthday.
Ruby:Makes sense. An army isn’t made in a day. Plans and caution for everyone involved. A united force like that sounds like a thing Oz dreamed of.
Weiss:Actually, it was. My world beat Salem by gaining the relics. The gods witnessed the effort the world put in and stripped her of immortality. It was actually thanks to you that Salem went peacefully. Instead of damning her to a cruel fate, the gods let her pass on to her kids per your request. After that, gods and magic came back. Both are still mysterious. The gods are hard to find and there’s only one person born with magic so far.
Yang:Magic is a thing there!? That’s so unfair! Just imagine me with more fire!?
Weiss:Like you need it!? You’re already like a generator. Life after Salem wasn’t any calmer really. Terrifying grimm lurked where their could, an entire new way of life had been dropped on society, and even the world itself seemed to react. Weather has been more intense as of late. There was a lot things to keep people busy. Ruby being her usual self, started hunting. Blake used the momentum of faunus and humans working together to further her equality agenda, and Yang helped both of you out.
Yang:Look at me! I’m a great girlfriend and sister!
Blake:*mumbles* There at least.
Weiss:Yeah. Oscar and Penny decided to embarrass more of normal lifestyle, mostly. Penny went back to being protector of Mantle, but had way more free time to be a normal girl. Both of them had gotten really close over the years and eventually married.
Ruby:*wide eyed* Awwww, good for them! I always had a feeling those two would hit it off.
Weiss:They weren’t the only ones. You may have been busy, but you always made time for Whitley. The two of you were dating since our original trip to Atlas. There wasn’t a problem that either of you didn’t come to me for. You know hard it is to navigate other people’s relationships when you’re lost in your own? The blind was leading the blind. Worked out though. You were probably the prettiest bride out of all of us. Then again, you went ours and literally took notes.
Ruby:Hehe, that sounds exactly like something I’d do. You haven’t talked much about the charmed life after the war for you.
Weiss felt her face heat up. She placed her head on the table as if she gave up on something.
Yang:Yeah! Give us the scoop!
Weiss:Charmed isn’t what I’d call my life exactly. I was disowned, completely cut off. Even though I made my own mark in history, it’s not like people were gonna roll out red carpets. The world had to rebuild, and I needed a roof over my head. Thus began the modest life of Weiss Schnee, owner of a two bedroom Argus apartment. Fancy clothes a food were no more. Just clearance sales and two for one. Honestly, I didn’t hate. But that’s mainly because I wasn’t living alone.
Blake:Jaune?
Weiss:Living back home was just as unappealing for him as it was for me. That and the fact that I couldn’t cook for shit was concerning, to say the least. Moving in and splitting rent just made sense. We weren’t dating yet technically, but.....it didn’t take long for the relationship between us to...expand.
Yang:I cannot believe a Weiss Schnee finally caved to tall blonde and scraggly. I should be jealous, but I’m strangely proud of Jaune’s achievement. It’s like the first time I lost to him. I was upset, but man did he work for that win.
Weiss:Took about a month before all of you had learned just what the living situation was like and man did you three let the teasing begin? *smiles* it was fun though. If I had to wrong about something then I’m glad it was about me not thinking a person is reliable. Especially since they’ve bailed me out of trouble many times. Normal life had its pitfalls. We were constantly working to pay rent. Sometimes one of us had to work harder. Getting sick was disastrous, of long term assignments. What’s the relationship I have with Whitley in the other worlds?
Ruby:Casual. The two of are always throwing ideas back and forth to help the company.
Blake:The two of you are fine. I’m not too sure how much you actually hang out, but you both are pretty snarky whenever you’re together.
Yang:Thick as thieves. That man was always shifting money and finding sneaky ways to let us know when important things popped up.
Weiss:Good, that’s really good. *exhales* I can’t count the times he sent money without father knowing. I’m glad we reconnected. Without his and everyone’s help, I don’t think I would’ve managed. Especially when mom died...
Ruby:Oh. I...I’m sorry to hear that.
Weiss:It’s bound to happen when you drink the way she did. But yeah, didn’t handle it any easier. Between that and stressing over money, I really got overwhelmed often. I was very glad I didn’t live alone. Even if I didn’t want to talk about things, Jaune was always there to listen. I think it was around that time I realized just how in love I actually was with him. He makes me happy. That idiot must’ve known how much of a weakness I had for him. It was only a few months later that he proposed.
The simple memory of Jaune asking her under a street light on a cold yet peaceful night, made Weiss’s face a healthy shade of red. A gentle smile was all she could make thinking about it. A smile that left everyone stunned. They had never seen Weiss look so warm. So genuinely filled with love, happiness. To think she was once called Ice Queen? This one really did look like an Angel. Weiss quit daydreaming and got a little embarrassed.
Weiss:Uh, sorry! I guess I little mushy there. I’ve been told I’ve gotten pretty sappy through the years.
Blake:I think that’s beautiful.
Yang:Seriously. I’m...speechless really.
Ruby:A hardworking Weiss that struggled making ends meet. I gotta say that you look good doing it.
Weiss:Yeah well, that time has passed. My father got sick and in an attempt to “clear his conscious” or whatever he was feeling, he put me back in the family. I only saw him once when he was on his deathbed. Truthfully, I don’t visit my parent’s grave. I wanna say old emotions don’t get stirred up, but there’s certain feelings towards people that just can’t die I guess.
Yang:That’s fair. Who knows, maybe you just need a decade or two?
Weiss:Hehe, perhaps. However, before I got my fortune back, I was granted an either better one. Two in fact. That sly knight of mine managed to overachieve like he always does and give us a boy and girl.
Blake:I got a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t upset?
Weiss:Not for one second! I love my babies. My darling little Nick and Summer Schnee. One named after our grandfather, and Jaune and I are both really thankful for all that Ruby has done for us, so our daughter got named Summer. It meant a lot. My Ruby...she can’t have kids, or I should say getting and staying pregnant is extremely difficult.
Ruby:...*sniffling* These aren’t tears by the way. Just dust.
Weiss:My Ruby cried.
Ruby:Oh I bet! That’s some powerful stuff. Probably ugly cried too. Someone please say something? *misty eyed* Fuck, man that was a lot. *puts hood up* give me a sec, please keep going. *holding Yang’s hand*
Yang:Weiss, weren’t you a little scared about your living situation?
Weiss:It was a weird thing. We talked about having a family before hand. Money was always a concern, as well space; but I also knew that I did want to have a family of my own one day. So when the day came that the nurse told me I was pregnant, I should’ve been more worried. I wasn’t. All I felt was joy. Maybe it was because I had faith we could handle anything. We did have you all to help. Yang, you might as well be a superwoman honestly. You have been so amazing throughout my life.
Yang:Aye! I really love this other me.
Blake:What about me?
Weiss:You remain the most sensible person in my life and I thank you for it. Everyone else is crazy.
Blake:Yeah that’s pretty on brand. *smiles*
Ruby:Picture please?
Weiss gladly pulled out her scroll and showed off her children. It was quick to see both of them had gotten their father’s dorkiness. They stood in front of the camera playfully winking and were pretending to take a bite out the gold medals they had around their necks. It was crazy how much Summer looked like her mother, but clearly had Jaune’s eyes. Her brother on the other hand had the Schnee eyes and messy Arc hair. The two looked like barrels of fun. Then there was the man himself, Jaune Arc. He looked from the one in Yang’s photo. His hair resembled his days traveling to Haven and he was clean shaven, but he was noticeably healthier. It wasn’t even a physical thing much, though he did look good. He just seemed more vibrant.
Yang:Mine is cuter.
Weiss:Yours looks like your dad with the scruff.
Yang:Can you not?
Blake:How old?
Weiss:Sixteen. Little devils want sports car. I’m not dealing with that. Nick is really good at figure skating and is the oldest, so he’s the heir. Summer decided to be a little like her mother and pursue singing. Doesn’t have my voice though, but her range is better than me. I’m jealous. Both of them are always pretty decent in a fight if I do say so myself. Sigh, they grow up so fast. They still have a lot of growing to do though. Teenagers...
RBY:Preach...
Ruby:Everything okay though? Nothing too tough going on?
Weiss:Can I lie and say yes?
Yang:Hey I unpacked my baggage. Unload yours.
Weiss let out a large sigh. She looked at her kids lovingly, but had a smile that seemed...somber. All of her energy was brought down a bit and it showed.
Yang:Umm if it’s too much-
Weiss:It’s fine. It might be a little therapeutic to talk about it. Personally, I don’t I’m doing all I really can do. When they were very young, we all took a trip to go skating at a frozen lake. While I was there I found this strange ice dust that I’ve never seen before. Nick and Summer had gotten into a fight and by accident, Nick set off the dust. The shrapnel from it hit everyone, but Summer had it the worse. I’m talking it was lodged in her in multiple places. Not to mention the blast sent her flying into the water. I was hit so hard that I nearly blacked out. Thankfully, Jaune was the furthest and dove into the water while I managed to get Nick. He avoided a lot of it due to distance and was winded more than anything.
Ruby:Christ...
Blake:How young?
Weiss:Five. We rushed so fast to the hospital as soon as we could. The dust in Summer was freezing her until Nick activated her semblance and most of the shards got used up. Still, Summer ended up hospitalized for almost a year. Surgeries, comas, seizures; it was difficult to put it lightly. That picture doesn’t show it but she has puncture scars across her body, and a slight scar under her jawline she covers with makeup. That dust, though highly dangerous, it also healed her eventually. Summer had virtually no chance of survival. Not even counting the organ damage, that water should’ve put her into shock. But...she made a full recovery, on paper.
Yang:On paper?
Weiss:Several years later, Summer came in contact with the dust again and she...changed. Her eyes looked like mine, her light blonde hair went white, and she went mad. Her scars glowed with the dust that was still in her system and Summer started attacking everyone. I saw my twelve year old just use ice that was cold enough to burn. My extra scar is from me trying to restrain her. In the end it took my gigas pinning her down before she came to her senses. Summer had no memory of it. She said all remembered was feeling cold and hearing her own laughter. It wasn’t long after that it kept happening. Any time she got cold, this other...thing would come out. It eventually called itself Shiva.
Blake:Shiva? So...it’s a multiple personality?
Weiss:We don’t know. There’s so many inconsistencies. We got her checked up by the best and every test was normal. Her brain looks normal. But any time Shiva comes out, her blood turns blue and all she wants to do is hurt us. Shiva and Summer are even aware of each other now. There’s almost no day where Summer doesn’t hear Shiva in her head, wrestling for control. Between that, people at school who hate her, the scars, everything; Summer has become pretty reserved. She barely wants to go to school and she’s depressed most days. Nowadays she doesn’t open up about it outside of therapy. I...I can connect with her. Not in the way that matters.
Yang:I...shit, I don’t know what to say to that.
Weiss:That’s okay, few do. We’ve gotten good at preventing situations that get Summer cold but it’s through trial and error on something we know nothing about. Even with how far we’ve gotten, there’s a looming fear in everyone’s heart. Make no mistake though, that doesn’t stop any family from loving her with everything, but the mental strain of it all is more than anyone should deal with. Nick is kind soul. He blames himself for this and is constantly doing all he can to be there for everyone and put on this brave face, but he suffers inside. For a time, he went to therapy. Your sister almost killing you is a visceral experience. Getting him to sleep and take a break is like telling a fish not to swim. He is pretty open about this though, which helps a lot. It’s just...how do convince somehow they’re good enough when they think they’re not?
Ruby and Blake:You can’t....
Weiss:Exactly. It’s so...*tearing up* How am I failing at helping my kids worse than my own mother?
Yang:And that’s where I draw the line. *stands up* Now I can’t begin to fathom dealing with a a situation like this, and what I’m about to say is gonna be a little hypocritical but I really don’t care. Weiss, the last thing you are is a bad mother. I could tell immediately from the way you are that there hasn’t been a single as a parent that you haven’t made a choice without your kids in mind. I get feeling like there’s a gap that disconnects you from there; but the fact you keep your arms stretched out to bridge it makes you mother of the year in my eyes! Don’t believe for a second you’re a bad mother. Your the gold standard!
The room filled with silence for a moment. Weiss felt a lump form in her throat as she fought back tears that she eventually had to wipe away. She tried letting out a small laugh, but with it came more tears that ran down her face. Weiss couldn’t tell if it was from Yang’s words, or the stress. All she knew was that right now, she felt very thankful for being here.
Weiss:Damn it Yang, making me cry is something you’ve always been good at. Maybe that’s why I look up to you so much?
Yang:*red* Y-You what?
Weiss:My Yang, I downplayed just how much I adore her. Her daughter, Veronica, she’s got her fair share problems that stresses Yang out, but I never see her stop trying to connect with her. Even when she’s sad it’s like it’s only for a second, then you’re trying twice as hard. It’s amazing. If I’m being honest, and this is embarrassing, but I kinda picked up a mother from you. You’ve always been a bit motherly.
Ruby:She’s right.
Blake:Mom energy since day one.
Yang:Really? *rubs head* I was just being myself. Never really thought about it. Now then, wipe those tears! It’s upsetting that you look pretty why you cry. Meanwhile I look like a hot mess, and not in the fun way.
Weiss:*wiping face* Oh please, I don’t wanna hear that from someone who’s never needed make up. Those genes of your went to Veronica. Kids a genuine beauty. She’s just angry all the time.
Yang:Yeah that sounds appropriate... Weird to think I have a daughter that’s not Yujin. Wish I could see her.
Blake:Me too. Though I think I’d be overwhelmed seeing all my different kids. I’d probably want them all.
Ruby:My hands are full with ones I have and I wouldn’t say I’m juggling them well, so I don’t need other kids from universes. I’d be so stressed.
Weiss:Especially if they’re violent.
Ruby:Yeah, that would bad....
Weiss:Phew, I do feel a bit better. Even though I said all those things, my family still had good times. It’s not tense and we joke around like everyone else. As a family, we’re happy. We just have shit we gotta sort through.
Blake:Rich or poor, life has certain things that hit everyone. Is Jaune doing well.
Weiss:Yeah, he gets through to Summer pretty well, and he’s typically calm when it comes to giving guidance. He had his fears, but that’s why I’m here. We confide in each other.
Blake:May you and everyone else find a light at the end of the tunnel.
Ruby:Hey Weiss. Does....actually, never mind. Forget it.
Yang:We both know that’s not happening. Spit it out.
Ruby:I was just about Shiva. I’ve encountered weird things in my world, but this is unique. I was wondering if you have any positive experience with her.
Weiss:Not a single one. Here since of enjoyment in the displeasure of my children is a thing we disagree on. Though....her eyes, they do throw me off. For some reason, they don’t match her joy.
Blake:Maybe that part is still Summer. Eyes are the window to the soul and all that jazz.
Weiss:Maybe? I hope the kids are okay right now. I wonder what they’re up to?
xxxxx
Summer:WHAT’S UP VALE!!!!!!!!
A massive crowd screams “what’s up Summer”in excitement. Flashing lights and chanting fans’s voices make the sold out venue shake with their passion. Summer can only bask in it. There’s no better feeling than when she’s on stage. She looks to herself excitedly. This one was extra special. Nick comes out on stage with a base around him and a second microphone.
Nick:WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!!
The crowd chants louder. Summer responds by starting a rift on her guitar. She faces Nick with a smug look. Yes, having him on stage is always a joy, but that didn’t mean Summer wanted him hindering or stealing the show.
Summer:Well look who’s here!? Atlas’s favorite son! Think you’re ready to play with the kids up here. This isn’t your normal stage.
Nick smiled. He responded by playing the bass and letting the audience speak for him. Summer was chessing fool. Slowly she bopped up and down, urging him to do the same. It wasn’t long before they in sync. Drums, piano, and other background musicians began building up the tune as planned. The twins whipped around to face the crowd.
🎶Get down! We won't let you go!
This time, can you bring us down?
Back up! fly far through the sky
BLACK ROVER!
Let's go! All together now
And at last this world can't slow us down
For now, let's dye it all in black
BLACK ROVER!🎶
The two stood back to back...
🎶As more join and stand beside me,
The void doesn't feel so empty!!!!!
I know there is much more in store
Let's open that door -!🎶
Nick looked over his shoulder and saw Summer doing the same thing. This was gonna be one for the books. Jaune watched from backstage with one of the stagehands.
Stagehand:Should we tell them to save their energy? This charity event is six hours.
Jaune:Nah, let them have fun.
#rwby#rwby au#ruby rose#weiss schnee#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#rwby whiteknight#nicholas schnee#summer schnee#rwby twin snowflakes#jaune arc#the void
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Just you and me
So, I finally gathered the courage to write something and went for a SuperCorp fanfic, because clearly I am supercorp trash. I haven’t decided whether to post it in AO3 or not but if I do I’ll let you know. English is not my first language so if you get any mistakes or some parts lack cohesion please let me know and I’ll try to fix it. This fic goes by the idea that Kara is a very good scientist, she deserves that much, Lena’s background is canon-like. There are no dialogs, only feelings and senses, hope you like it.
*********
Finding yourself stuck in time is hard, at least that’s what most people would feel like under such circumstances, but not for Lena, not right now, where every single piece of “normalcy” her life had is just beginning to crumble, like a piece of sun-dried bread, or the way eggshells crack after someone steps on them, painfully, noisily, in a million pieces, most of all and beyond everything, they shatter unrecognizably and irreparably. Maybe the cold that such pain leaves behind is what led her to run, maybe it was the sudden fear and tiredness that was left in her, like cold steel in her bones, maybe it was the emptiness that started consuming every truth she thought she knew. It did not matter, she fled, running as fast as she could in those 7-inch Louboutins. She never looked back, not even after her flight landed in National City, not even after setting foot for the first time in her new penthouse in the middle of the city. She never regretted it, at first it was rough, sure, like every bumpy road is, yet, after the first glance she ever took at that blonde hair that day in the park, all doubts were erased off her mind.
*********
It was the end of August, the chilly air that announced a cold winter ahead blew her hair, ruffling it in her face; filling the streets, waking scattered orange and brown-ish leaves that had fallen from nearby trees, whistling on its way through the now almost-bare branches. The wind left behind the soft aroma of wet dirt, freshly baked bread and upcoming rain, heartwarmingly, filling her lungs easily with every breath, puffing visible clouds when exhaling. It was certainly nostalgic, the kind that makes you feel warm and cozy and at the same time makes your eyes prickle with unshed tears. Kara felt that pull, as usual, for everything good her life has had, and everything it had taken from her. She stood on the sidewalk, towards National’s City Central Park, glancing around her, taking in her surroundings when her gaze landed on a particular someone, dragged to her as if her eyes were mere pieces of steel and that woman were a huge neodymium magnet; She found herself staring at a sight she’ll always remember, because at that moment, when she first saw her, she felt a different kind of pull at her heart, the kind that screamed “caution!”, but in the good way, hopefully.
Long before she knew her name, what made her laugh, what made fer fidget with her fingers nervously, but above all, long before she had met that woman with dark long silky hair, forest-green eyes and pearly skin. Long before that gorgeous human being, with such power emanating from her, yet such caring, hopeful eyes, crossed her path, long before she made her feel like flying without actually leaving the ground, mostly, who she would grow to love, maybe, maybe she was fantasizing too much, who could blame her, it surely was a sight to remember.
*********
When the double doors slide open, she’s expecting a no-nonsense, powerful, cold-blooded, cocky-demeanor CEO, what she’s definitely not expecting is for such CEO to be almost precisely all that shaped and carefully placed in a stunning, raven-haired woman, whose green eyes could pierce through your soul and would probably make you spill your darkest and deepest secrets, those that also hide so much fear, making her want to walk over there and pour all her support into a hug. Kara swallows. Nevertheless, there is also something else to this woman’s aura, her posture is perfect, clearly carved into her from a very young age, and her smile is polite but stiff, almost practiced, and still, Kara can feel kindness emanating from her, true deep kindness and care. Something brings her to the present again, her breath hitches, those beautiful eyes are staring intently into hers with curiosity and a hint of amusement. The woman in front of her has managed to steal her breath twice now, which is not something she, the founder and co-owner of a start-up company. Harvard graduate and Kryptonian, finds happening often, she has faced great threats, from grumpy bankers to out-of-space threats as Supergirl, yet, Lena Luthor has managed to make her heartbeat go erratic with a simple gaze.
The soft scent of an expensive perfume fills the office, something akin cinnamon, vanilla and a little scotch (?). It is dizzying and a little distracting. She somehow manages to go through her proposal for the CEO without stumbling too much and, fortunately, without rambling. Lena seems fascinated by the proposal and agrees to the terms without major modifications to the contract. After both signing, they shake hands, and maybe, just maybe, they linger a little more than needed, both enraptured by the softness of the other’s hand. Lena pulls away first, fingers tingling, feeling the tips of her fingers warm and a lingering scent of something floral, it is electrifying, like a low current cursing through her veins, making her get goosebumps all over her arms, but she doesn’t mind, as her attention is captured by those ocean blue eyes that seemingly hold the weight of the world. She certainly is nowhere close to getting tired of them.
*********
When they signed this partnership, they did not expect it to turn this way, at least Kara didn't, or so she muses while sitting on the ledge of her rooftop. She truly just meant to get funding and maybe get to work a little up-close with the brilliant, certified genius of a woman. Sure, she is gorgeous and incredibly sharp-minded, as proven by so many magazines’ articles having bothered to analyze both qualities deeply and thoroughly; but after that first sight of her, with such strength and determination to her pose, with each powerful step, with every sway of her hips, albeit hiding so much hurt, sadness, and a great burden, brought to her by her last name; a burden that Kara has somehow come know so well, such need to be understood, because, the truth was, that no one had ever lived through loss the way they did. One lost her world, her culture and way of life, but found love and compassion, whereas Lena was denied both from a very short age, living a life without love, compassion, and affection, in a household where the outside cold wouldn’t enter, as the inside was icier.
The cold nighty wind startles her, it brings to her mind memories of bight smiles, so hard that certain dimples showed, laughs so hard that some wine would be spat on a very white leader couch, sunny days filled with an assortment of foods and a wonderful voice, filling every corner of the room with its melody and a slight accent, becoming more evident when emotion takes a rightful place in her voice, one that comes from a very pale yet very compassionate woman. She has to tell her, it's been just over a year since they first met, but she knows it is time, with them growing closer, she has to tell her she is Supergirl. And yeah, she definitely did NOT expect things to turn this way. (Maybe she kinda did).
**********
When she asked Kara if she understood the quantum mechanics behind the surface plasmon resonance their platinum nanoparticles showed, she wanted to be shaken, mad even, because why wouldn't she, the to-be youngest member of the Science Guild on Krypton? Of course, they didn't have the same metals as they did on Earth, but they understood the physics behind the phenomena. Okay, Lena did do not know her identity, yet, hopefully, but she did have a Bachelor in Mechatronic Engineering and a Master Degree in Advanced Materials, she definitely may have crossed paths with the concept. But hell, how can she be mad when those bright, summer-trees green eyes look at her with such glint of excitement, with a twinkling sparkle or curiosity? Those eyes that were looking at her with a look you give someone you know gets you, beyond understanding your words, those who truly get a grasp of your language, of who you are, what makes you shake with the excitement of a new discovery, a greater challenge. It was then that Kara knew that she could read Lena the way no one had ever done for her, she could grasp what she needed in every moment, what she was thinking, but she also got her sciency stuff, the theoretical jargon, upcoming theories, the physics behind phenomena and she shared her love for technology that could make humans' lives better, longer, healthier. They shared, compassion, vision, passion and... Kara was now almost certain, love.
At least she thinks so, what else could those stolen glances be? She looks up, just to find those forest-green eyes glinting with determination and concentration while those agile slender fingers handle tools and twinkle their way around the solar panel’s circuitry. She is so enraptured by her skills that she mistakenly adds way too much platinum sulfide to the solution, turning it suddenly black and bringing her out of her stupor as the contents boil, violently spilling all over the place, filling the air with a slight scent of iron, evaporated water and burnt plastic. Green eyes break contact with the panel to look towards where strong hands work frantically to turn off the hot plate she was working on, dropping her tools she reaches a hand to help Kara, concerned green eyes looking for any kind of burn injury or spill that may need to be taken care of. After making sure everything is (mostly) okay and that it was just a failed reaction, Kara is suddenly aware of a soft hand pulling her away from the table, vanilla and cinnamon fill the air around her, like a soft embrace, that turns real when Lena pulls her into her arms, a soft bubble surrounding Kara, making her a little giddy and peaceful at the same time. Flowers, fresh-cut flowers is what Lena smells, while she hugs Kara tightly, it is normal to get worried for your best friend after a lab incident, no matter how small, she tells herself, and while it maybe is, it is definitely not normal the way her heart felt like stopping the moment she saw the hot contents of the Erlenmeyer flask spill all over the place, fearing for Kara, feeling it creep up her spine and settle like cold ice on her stomach and lungs, making it hard to breathe.
When strong arms surround her and pull her in tighter, she realizes she has started shaking and hyperventilating, embarrassed she hides her face in the crook of Kara’s neck, and everything fades outside this moment. It is just them, vanilla, and flowers, Kara murmuring sweet nothings into Lena’s ear, hearing her heartbeat even out, and her breathing become normal; and Lena trusting that this person, whose arms seem to be able to lift a bus, whose laugh makes her heart warm and fuzzy, whose smile lights her world and makes her feel safe, cared for and understood; will never let her fall. And perhaps she is right.
**********
Yup, it is definitely love. What else could it be? That snowy January, between hot cocoa and soft muffins, she knew. She is hovering outside her lab, on the outskirts of town, where it was less likely that someone caught her both personas; peeking through the windows, she sees her, Lena is coding the interface that would allow them to take the most efficiency and durability out of the technology they had designed, the mechanical and chemical part was almost done already. She is typing, eyes narrowed in concentration behind thick rimmed glasses, the tip of her tongue poking from a corner of her mouth. And Kara knows, she wants to caress those hands when they were trembling from the winter cold, but also kiss them after a long day working with her computer, she wants to rub her feet after a day filled with meetings and kiss her every time her brilliant mind comes up with a solution for an impossible problem. But above all that, she wants to hold her and whisper into her ear comforting and loving words when she has a nightmare regarding Lex, she knows it’s a common occurrence. She wants to see her crumble knowing that Kara would always hold her and support her, kissing her lovingly every time her insecurities get the best of her. She wants her to feel safe, protected and loved in a way she always deserved but never got.
She sighs, this is it and she knows it, there is not moving forward without coming clean about Supergirl, because, staring at Lena, she knows there is no going back either, looking the way her agile fingers dance around the keyboard as if she were writing a letter to a friend instead of a state-of-the-art software to power and control their recently developed solar panels. She thinks of how beautiful of a soul Lena is, she has such a big heart, she has a huge weight on her shoulders for being a Luthor, a burden which Kara would love to lift from her since it is not hers to carry, it shouldn’t be. Furthermore, she cares so much for the world and the people in it, even for the ones that are not human, unlike her family she is truly kind and compassionate.
Here goes nothing. Kara flies through the lab floor-to-ceiling windows towards the desk where Lena is working, placing beside her the paper bag containing hot cocoa and muffins for her. Due to the cold, the soft warm homey smell soon starts filling the room. Lena looks up smiling, expecting to find Kara behind the treats, but instead, bright green eyes lock with glassy baby blue eyes, trembling lips and fingers fidgeting. Lena stands. She is instantly shaking, whatever it is that could possibly turn the unyielding hero into a crying mess must be of great concern. She steadies herself by grabbing the edge of the table to keep her knees from buckling, knuckles turn white. Green never leaves blue. And just when she is about to ask the hero what brings her here, a strong hand comes to the small of her back to steady her and keep her upright. She has never been this close to Supergirl and at that moment when every sound seems to shut and the air stills, she knows.
She knows why those sky-blue eyes always inspired her such calm and confidence, why she always felt safe in those arms that could bend steel as butter. Because in that moment, when the warmth emanating from that hand starts filtering through her clothes, warming her, her senses are also filled with a smell of flowers, mixed with chocolate and bread, and a hint of mint; when a single tear escapes those ocean blue eyes, she crumbles. She crumbles under that gaze filled with pain and sorrow, filled with such regret that she could feel it creeping through herself, nestling in every corner of her body, making her feel slump and heavy. She also sees intelligence, compassion and strength, qualities she has come to be very familiar with under a blue setting. And so, she grabs the hero’s suit in her fist and buries her face in her chest, a single heart-wreaking cry filling the air. Kara shatters then, knowing how much pain this is causing to a soul that has been betrayed over and over again, who has been abused and pushed to her limits. She knows she is picking an open wound with a stick, and she hates herself for it, for using the same trust Lena gave her against her. They slide to the floor, never letting go of each other, tears falling freely through both their cheeks. Lena breaks into heartbreaking sobs and Kara holds her tighter, as if trying to keep her from falling into pieces, from breaking apart, rocking them both back and forth softly. Lena just cries, screaming from time to time, gripping the fabric so tightly that if it were regular fabric, it would be tearing down by now, but it isn’t, just as the woman holding her, the woman she most certainly is NOT in love with, is not a regular human. They stay there, holding onto each other, never breaking eye contact, the hot cocoa and muffins long forgotten.
**********
She really isn’t mad. She isn’t. So maybe she has been slightly avoiding Kara, but she isn’t mad. Despite her first-instance outburst of emotions, she realized she really isn’t angry at Kara from keeping the Supergirl thing a secret from her, yes, she was deeply hurt and upset but she understands the reasoning behind it, albeit she wishes Kara had told her earlier in their relationship it also makes perfect sense for her to hide it until making sure their relationship was well-founded and strong.
She is quite lost though, there is a small hint of emptiness inside her chest from that day which smelled like chocolate and bread, at first Lena thought she might actually and finally be broken, her heart having taken so many hits already. But the pain eventually faded, and that emptiness never left, on the contrary, it became more present, so much that she was now almost used to it. Like a lingering rock in the bottom of her stomach, or a ball of cotton in her throat, constant, bearable but persistent. And now, as the snow starts melting outside her office she wonders why. She knows why though; she just likes to pretend like she can fool herself.
The morning sun is hitting her office’s windows, warmer than it has been for the past few months and as the first drops of melted snow start to fall from the rooftop to her balcony, the pretense falls to pieces, and she falls along with it. She fumbles with her balcony door and stumbles outside, not even bothering to grab her coat, as soon as she steps outside, she is hit with cold, humid air and slippery floors. Taking huge gasps of cold air to fill lungs that seemingly do not want to be filled.
Maybe this is all she needed, standing on her balcony and glancing at the city, the morning sun casting a bright yellow light over her face, warming her skin softly, while her side in the shadows gets colder every passing second. It is enough, hot and cold, day and night, light and darkness, she always wondered to which side of the scale she tipped the most, she used to believe she was all shadows, a Luthor, and Kara was light, all goodness, she smiles at the irony, a Super. However, while she is taking in the city, calm and almost quiet since it is so early, bright light hitting the buildings and cold, contrasting shadows hiding smaller streets, cars, and people, she gets it. Kara was never all light, and will never be, she has on her shoulders an unbearable pain that will never go away and with her powers come hard choices that no one should ever have to make. And she, she is not darkness, she is both, and she can choose which side to feed, and she wants to choose light, just not any light, one that is personified by blonde hair and ocean-deep blue eyes that she could, and does, get lost into. Maybe, she can bring a certain light to Kara as well, maybe they both deserve it, they deserve each other. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she turned on her heels towards her office and out of it, directly to a certain warehouse on the outskirts of town. The balcony door left open, melted snow glowing gold from the morning sun, dripping into Lena’s office.
**********
Disappointment is that what she feels, no, sadness, for sure, she knew things could go sideways with the whole reveal show and yet, the clench in her heart won’t go away easily, and she knows she absolutely has no right to feel that way, she made that choice, just as she has made every other choice before it. She is tempering with her suit, waiting for her cell culture to finish growing so she can properly test their absorption properties. Soft pop music plays in the background, filling the warehouse with soft notes with a cheesy vibe, the mid-morning sun streams from the windows, lighting the space with an orange-ish golden glow. She finishes her upgrades with a tired huff, never one to hate working on something she surprises herself with such reaction. Groaning with frustration that has nothing to do with her projects and a lot to do with a certain pale powerful, wonderful, CEO.
She walks towards the windows, letting herself bask in the mid-morning light, feeling her powers recharge and her body start buzzing with energy. She clenches her fists, as the warmth caress of the sun on her skin makes her heart ache, missing another entirely different kind of warmth. She leans against a wall and lets her body slide to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest, she closes her eyes, letting herself get lost in the feeling of the sun kissing her skin, softly, almost hesitantly, she can almost picture a certain brunette, softly stroking her cheek, a sweet lovingly caress. A single tear rolls down her cheek from her closed eyes, knowing that such caresses may never be from her, a faith written by her own hand, resulting from her choices, as hard as it is. Letting her straining superhearing and expanding its reach she hears the hustle and bustle from downtown a few kilometers away, she hears the honks of the cars and the heavy panting from people running late for their work, such mundane thing that she may never truly get to live and experience. As her hearing expands, she finds herself focusing in a very well-known heartbeat, one she can distinguish above the sea of heartbeats that flood the city; it is beating absurdly fast, and her first reaction is to focus on her surroundings to find out whether she is in danger or not.
She hears heavy puffs of air, heels clicking steadily and determinately on the pavement, closer with every step, and is she running? Her breath hitches when realization dawns on her, she IS running, towards her. While her mind screams for her to move, to do something, her body is frozen, unresponsive, breath caught in her throat, she absolutely does not understand what is happening and doesn’t know what to expect from the woman that is now reaching her. Before she can dwell on it further, a feminine soft hand with slender cold fingers is touching her knee softly. She is panting from the effort, her breath smells like back coffee and mint, hitting Kara’s face warmly, making her head spin; a slight scent of grounded coffee beams mixed with Lena’s favorite scotch emanates from her clothes, she smells strangely like home; her red lipstick matching her flushed cheeks from running, and Kara cannot help but let her jaw fall open in awe at the sight.
She grabs Lena’s wrists softly and stands up bringing her along. Kara finally gathers her courage and looks at her eyes. She feels like sinking under her gaze, not out of fear, it’s nothing but love and warmth what she sees in those jade-green eyes, feelings she doesn’t feel worthy of, specially not when coming from the Irish goddess. Just when she’s about to close her eyes again, uncapable of keeping her gaze, Lena hooks a finger under her chin and makes her raise her eyes up to hers again. Insecure, scared-like blue puppy eyes find soft-looking bright emerald eyes. It’s understanding what she sees now in those deep green eyes, the same ones that seem capable of reading her like an open book. She lets out a sob, and Lena lets go of her chin, going to grab her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing her palm tenderly.
The breeze brings to Kara’s nose the scent of Lena’s shampoo, smells like rainy days and autumn leaves, and, as usual, no words are needed when Kara moves her hand from Lena’s lips to cup her cheeks, bringing her other hand up. And, what else can she do other than lean forward? So, she does, she leans forward and kisses her forehead, its soft, tender, like a butterflies’ kiss, just barely brushing her skin, trying to convey her love for her beautiful Genius™ mind, for her brilliance, stubbornness and compassionate selfless soul. She then brushes her lips softly on both her eyelids, trying to convey all the love and regret she feels regarding the way she did Supergirl secret-related things. She parts slowly and watches as Lena opens her eyes fluttering open slowly, bringing her hands up to grab the wrists of the Kara’s hands that are still cupping her face, thumbs softly stroking the inside of the kryptonian’s wrists, she lets out a shaky breath, blue eyes looking at her so lovingly tenderly, with such determination and strength, unyielding as sapphires, she feels no questioning in her heart, this is where she is meant to be, she turns into a mushy puddle and lets herself be drawn into the Girl of Steel.
Kara leans forward and kisses her nose, giggling quietly, Lena simply melts into it feeling a soft warm breath that smells like chocolate and honey, suddenly, the emptiness in her chest melts like ice cream on a hot summer day, leaving nothing but love and warmth, like the one from a fireplace on Christmas Eve. She lets out a shuddering breath, relieved. They lock eyes again, and finally all those unspoken questions find an answer. They lean forward at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle, fitting perfectly against each other. It is warm, tender, loving, and everything it should be, the way every cheesy romantic comedy says it’s like. They pour all their love into that moment, lips moving against each other, chocolate-honey and black coffee.
When they finally part, it’s like breathing for the first time, lungs grasping for oxygen, freshly cut grass, concrete and sun-provided warmth, and it is perfect. Like taking a breath after holding it underwater for a long time, except you never truly knew what breathing was like, until that life-altering breath. They breathe in sync, foreheads touching, Kara’s hands go down to wrap around Lena’s waist, pulling her closer, Lena rests her head softly on Kara’s chest, nuzzling into her neck and closing her eyes, letting herself fall into that fierce love, like an all-consuming fire, she’s been too afraid to open herself to, to be vulnerable. They stay there, enjoying each other’s embrace, the hustle and bustle of the city blind to a beautifully blooming love.
**********
Kara is very clumsy, it does help her keep up her façade, albeit it is also a personal trait of hers. And right now, as she trips on nothing, while standing nonetheless, she makes it extremely evident. Forest green eyes look at her amused from the other side of the door. How does Lena expect Kara not to fall face first to the ground when she is dressed looking like THAT. Wearing a deep red drees that falls softly just below her knees, strapless, leaving her back and cleavage on display, her hair up in a neat bun and her signature 7-inch black heels, Kara definitely stopped breathing, not that she needs to anyway. She stands up awkwardly, taking the dust off her khaki pants and dark blue blazer. Lena cannot hide a smirk after pulling such reaction from no other than Supergirl.
The CEO pulls Kara into her apartment, it smells like vanilla and apples, probably resulting from the many scented candles that Lena likes to light around her apartment. The only light comes from said candles and several Christmas-like light strings that are hanging from the ceiling, giving the place a warm cozy glow. Kara smiles lazily as she leans down to kiss Lena, catching a glimpse of bright emerald eyes melting glimmery before falling shut. She smiles into the kiss. She pulls apart slightly and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, the raven-haired woman lets out a soft chuckle. Kara grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her to the door. Today it’s dinner date day, they are celebrating the successful launch of their joint solar panels project, the best performance ever achieved thanks to a certain Kryptonian’s platinum oxide nanoparticles; and 10 months of full-on dating. As Kara closes the door of Lena’s apartment behind them, the warm smell of the candles fills the hallway and follows them into the elevator, a fluffy plush blanket, a protective mantle surrounding them.
**********
drip…drip… the constant crash of raindrops against the windows surrounding them, rain pouring heavily around them, drowning the usually loud noises of the city’s rush hour, washing away the strong smell of smog. They are tucked under a bus station stop, at least Lena is, Kara is already dripping, since she stubbornly stood outside the small protection the roof offers so Lena and other humas could take cover, she doesn’t get sick anyway. Lena is shivering, although it has been a remarkably hot summer, today was quite a cloudy day and it rained for the most part, resulting in a temperature drop of several degrees. The brunette leans into Kara seeking for her abnormally high body temperature to warm herself up, but the Girl of Steel has other plans, since she cannot fly Lena to their apartment, she might as well take the best out of the situation.
Just as Lena is dropping her full body weight into her, she slides away, pulling Lena’s hand with her, directly into the downpour. Lena gasps when the first heavy drops of the cold water hit her, feeling her clothes get soaked almost instantly, she feels the raindrops roll down her skin and further dampening her clothes, the smell of the rain fully hits her now and when she lifts her eyes from where they were looking at the floor not to trip, she sees Kara smiling her signature megawatt smile at her, completely soaked and intertwining their fingers playfully, so Lena smiles, smiles so hard her dimples show. She lets herself be dragged by Kara, running under the rain, feeling the cold sweeping into her bones, and feeling more whole and filled with happiness than she has in a very long time, if ever.
Kara jumps over a puddle with all the grace of a gazelle, letting go of the CEO’s hand, such displays of her true nature still wonder Lena, just when she is about to make the jump herself, Kara stops and abruptly turns towards her. The world stops. Or maybe she is the one that freezes, the only thing she can hear is the rain pouring heavily around them, and her heart beating erratically in her chest, ringing in her ears, the smell of rain mixes with Kara’s floral perfume, she is getting closer now. The brunette starts shaking, and it has nothing to do with the cold water still running down her body. Kara stands in front of her, soaking wet, dirt all over her jeans from playing in the rain, her hair falls in wet dirty blonde strands around her face, her eyes as baby blue as always are dim because of the raindrops that coat her glasses, and in her soaking hands she’s holding an astonishingly made silver ring, two intertwined silver strings hold one small bright emerald in the middle, the inside of one of the string, in almost unreadably tiny letters reads “You are my hero”. The simplicity of the stone in contrast with the intricate design of the ring.
Lena forgets how to breathe, but Kara understands, so she just waits there, with the most loving smile ever seen stamped on her face. When Lena’s out of body experience ends, she simply nods enthusiastically. And so, the world starts spinning again, the honks of the cars return, engines roaring and muffled conversations, all muted by the rain, washing over them as reality sinks in, they are choosing each other, even when the world has tried to pull them apart repeatedly, furthermore, against each other, for them, none of it matters, just them, here and now, kissing for the first time in hopefully many years to come. Lena lets her hands drape loosely around Kara’s neck, feeling the grounding weight of the ring on her left ring finger, hot against her cold skin, the same way Kara’s hands, which hold her together.
#supergirl#supercorp#fanfic#karlena#kryptonian#i wrote this on a whim#please give me feedback#this is my first fic#be kind
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So I wrote this and I'm pretty proud it. Some pre-serum 1930s Stucky, period accurate homophobia. If you like it I linked my ao3 for the other two chapters. Am I cringy? Probs but whateves
It is probably one of the coldest winters Bucky could remember. He was thankful that the end of the day was finally here. The biting temperatures were amplified by the air off of the cold water. More importantly though, going home meant he could go check on Steve, his tenement mate, and long-time best friend. Steve have come down with a bout of pneumonia a couple weeks back. He is still fighting to get his strength back, still breaking out in coughing fits and struggling to get around. His weak immune system made sure that it was not going to be easy to get over this. Honestly, Bucky hated that he had to leave him alone all day to work, but they needed the money to afford the rent, even if their tenement was too small and the heat wasn’t the best. So Bucky just spent the day going through the worse possible scenarios in his head. What if Steve got worse while he was away? What if Steve fell somewhere in the apartment because he is too stubborn to stay in bed, and now couldn’t get up? Was he laying their freezing not able to get back to his bed? What if he…dies because I am not there to help him? But now he could get home and check on Steve.
“James!’ Bucky turned around to hear Bill calling after, as he walking away for the day. Bill was another one of the grunt workers at dock. Nice enough guy, kind of rough. Probably his closest “work friend.” Bucky waits for him to catch up.
“Yea?” he says casually, trying not to show the impatience in his voice for the man that is unknowingly delaying him from getting to Steve.
“Want to go get a drink with some of the guys? Maybe we’ll run into some dames desperate enough for a good time to give your ugly mug a chance?” He wiggles his eye brows jokingly.
“No thanks, I’m good, actually.” Bucky replies, turning to leave.
“Oh come on, you never come out. Let loose a little, pal.” Bill pushes.
“I just need to get home…” Bucky responds, a little annoyed at this point because of the hold up.
“What’s the rush?”
“It’s just Steve is at home and he’s expecting me.” Bucky lies. Steve wouldn’t care if he went out. He would tell Bucky he deserves it. In actuality, he was too worried to go out and have fun, not when Steve was at home, miserable.
“Come on then, invite him out too. You guys can meet us at the bar.” Bill offers.
“Maybe another night, Steve is pretty sick. Getting over pneumonia.” Bucky goes to turn away again.
“Then why are you in a rush?” He laughs. “If he’s sick, he’s probably just laying down in bed. No need to babysit.”
Bucky ignores he question and just repeats, “Like I said, maybe another night.”
Bill lets out a little amused huff. “Interesting.”
His tone of voice gets the better of Bucky. “Interesting? What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky interrogates.
“Nothing, man. Forget about it.” Bill half-heartedly replies.
Bucky of course will not forget about it. “No, what did you mean?” His voice a little more irritated sounding then he intended.
Bill shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “It’s just some of the guys…”
“Some of the guys, what?” Bucky urges.
“Some of the guys say you’re a little funny, you know.” Many of the guys on the crew have grown up in the same neighborhood as Steve and Bucky and as such have known them, or at least seen them for a long time.
Bucky feels a sudden weight on his chest but does not let it show. “Funny how, Bill?” though he is terrified that he know what he means.
“You know, you and that roommate are pretty close and have been for a long time. Sometimes it just appears…” he hesitates, thinking about how to say it. “It appears like you treat him how you would treat a dame you were into. It just seems a little queer.” From behind Bill, he could see some of the guys eavesdropping. Some are smirking, and a few other are snickering. Some even are shooting disgusted looks at Bucky.
Bucky stops his face from faltering from the apathetic look he has put on. He replies loud enough for those assholes who are listening in to hear. “Well, I can assure you Bill, that Steve is my best friend, and that’s all, okay?” In reality, his heart is beating through his chest. Had it been that obvious that he liked Steve? How long have they been passing stories about this.
Bill cracks a smile and slaps Bucky on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. I knew those guys had to wrong about you. Come out and join us later if you change your mind.” Bill gives Bucky the name of the bar they’ll be at, as he politely listens, not intending on changing his mind. As he leaves, he can tell a lot of the guys do not seem to believe him.
Walking home, Bucky was stuck in his head. He didn’t think people could tell how he felt about Steve. Did he act more like Steve’s fella than his friend? How could they tell? To be fair, he hadn’t been lying about Steve just being his friend. Just because Bucky was a little “light in the loafers”, did not mean that he feelings for Steve were requited. Steve was such a good guy and a model Catholic. No way was Steve into him the same way.
Probably for the best since guys liking other guys that way wasn’t looked on very favorably. The anti-sodomy laws made that clear. Plus, he didn’t particularly like the idea of having to get into fist fight with guys who may make a remark at him…or god forbid Steve.
He shakes his, getting himself out of his own thoughts. He didn’t want to think about these what ifs anymore. Maybe he would try harder to act less like a boyfriend to Steve and more like his super manly, non-homosexual, best friend. Its’s not like he didn’t like women, he just preferred Steve more. But he could be less doting. He didn’t need to babysit his best friend. Bill was right, Steve was probably just sleeping and didn’t need him. Maybe he would just stop at home, check in momentarily, and then take them up on his offer to drink with the guys. He hypes himself up in his head as he reaches the steps leading up to his door. These thoughts left his head as soon as he opened the door.
He could hear a pretty bad coughing fit from the bedroom. The place was freezing. The shitty radiator must be on the fritz. It was warmer than outside but not by much. It couldn’t be more than 40 degrees in that house, the paper-thin walls doing little to keep the heat in. Bucky makes his way to the little gas stove. The tenement was only 3 rooms, the front room that consisted of a little seating area and a modest kitchen (if you van call it that. It was a little sink and gas stove, with one cupboard), the bathroom (the only room with a door), and their share bedroom. He turns on the oven, and leaves it open so the heat could radiate through out the place. He discards his shoes and jacket in the front room. Then he quietly makes his way to the back bedroom, not knowing if the previous coughing fit indicated if he was a wake or not. If Steve was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him.
When he walks through the doorway to bedroom, his friend is huddled under some the blankets. He notices that Steve is still covered in his own blanket, as well Bucky’s blanket that he had laid on top of him this morning when he left for work. Steve’s face sticks out slightly even though he pulled the blanket over his head. He is definitely not feeling great. He is awake but kind of staring off in the distance. His usual pale features somehow look paler when punctuated with the dark circles under his eyes. Of course, he hasn’t slept well in a while, constantly being woken up in fits of coughing and wheezing. He hasn’t noticed that Bucky has walked in. There is no way Bucky can leave and go to the bar though after seeing this.
“Hey Stevie.” Bucky puts on a smile, knowing that Steve hates when Bucky stares at him like some pathetic sick thing. Steve looks up and for a moment it looks like a light entered his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. Bucky likes to think he did not imagine it and Steve genuinely lights up because of him. Probably wishful thinking but it’s a nice though.
“Hey Buck!” He tries to sound stronger than he felt. He hated making Bucky worry but he knew his friend, He inevitably is. He pushes himself up lamely to rest his back against the wall behind his mattress. He is still wrapped up in the blankets, still shivering faintly. “So how was work?” Steve asks, just kind of wanting to talk to Bucky. He would never admit it to Bucky, but he hated feeling alone all day while the other man was at work.
Bucky makes his way across the room, sitting on the little wooden stool by Steve’s bed so he could face his friend. His smile had disappeared momentarily when Bucky thought back to conversation he had right before leaving. But he recovers quicky to reply. “Nothing special. Cold as hell though. And this damn apartment is freezing, not making it any better.”
“Yea, I think the radiator is busted. Tried to tell the sup, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sorry Buck.” He gives a sad smile. Times like this made Steve feel so useless, couldn’t even make sure the heat was working so Bucky was cold after working outside all day.
“No problem, pal. Tomorrow’s my day off. I’ll handle it.” Bucky smiles before realizing how sad Steve still looks. He leans over and puts his hand on Steve’s blanket covered shoulder. “Buddy, I promise it is not a big deal, you cannot help that you are sick.”
Steve sighs miserably. “Doesn’t mean, it doesn’t make me feel pretty worthless. For god sakes, look how pathetic I am. I have both blankets and am still shivering like some babe.” He averts his eyes to his lap, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.
This breaks Bucky’s heart, to hear how little Steve thinks about himself. Steve Rogers had the biggest heart out of everyone he knows. He has gotten into so many fights (that he could not win) just because he saw some in justice. Steve was the best person he has ever met so hearing this from him is difficult. “Stevie…” the familiar nickname instinctively causes Steve to look back at Bucky. “I hate to tell you this, bud, but you are wrong. You are pretty great and all this stuff about being worthless or pathetic, is bullshit.”
Steve lets out a nervous huff before quietly whispering “Thanks, Buck…”
“Anytime.” Bucky smiles back at him.
“But, umm hey Bucky…”
“Yeah?”
“Here...” Steve starts to shimmy out the outer blanket belonging to the slightly older man.
“Hey no…” Bucky puts up his hands to signal to stop. “You need that, it is freezing in here and you are sick.”
“Yea but we can’t have you getting sick, either Buck. You may not have my immune system but you can get still get sick.
“Steve.” Bucky says firmly. “I will not take that blanket from you.”
Steve sighs, sometimes Bucky can be as stubborn as he is. “Fine but I can’t have you freezing to death. Come up here. We can share the blanket,” Steve says it so matter-of-factly, like nothing he said was weird. And I guess it wasn’t it is not like they haven’t shared a bed before. Except, in light the conversation at work Bucky can’t help but to start to over think it. Luckily for him, Steve clears his throat to get Bucky’s attention when he notices him staring off. “Hey Buck…did you hear me? Come on, get up here.”
Bucky wants to get up there, god knows he does. To Steve it seemed to be a very practical thing, cold apartment, limited blankets, two bodies make more heat than one, etc. But to Bucky, it felt like so much more. He loved being that close to Steve. And that was his problem. Thinking fast he says “I should start supper. I’m going to heat up the stew for us that Mrs. Andrews dropped off yesterday.” Mrs. Andrews being the nice widow from upstairs.
“Oh…” Steve says before letting a smile come back to his face. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would say Steve almost sounded disappointed. He did not allow himself to dwell on it too long. Instead, he quickly stands up and makes his way to the kitchen. He throws the small pot of stew on the stoves so he can warm it up.
After a few minutes, he hears Steve shuffle into the room. It really was much warmer in that since the oven, and now the stove, have been on. Steve takes a quiet seat at their modest table.
“You didn’t have to come out. I would have brought you dinner, Stevie.” Bucky says, eyes on the pot in front of him.
“S’okay, I needed to stretch my legs…” No sooner did he say that, did another coughing fit came on. It sounded almost painful, and Bucky could only imagine how raw Steve’s throat must feel. He made his was to his friend, carrying a handkerchief to help with the mess of snot and flem coming from the other man. He stops in front of his friend, crouching down to be on his level. Bucky patiently waits for it to pass before handing his friend the little piece of cloth.
“Thanks Buck…” Steve said almost like he was embarrassed. Bucky instinctively squeezes Steve’s knee reassuringly, before smiling softly and getting back up. He walks back to the pot on the stove. Okay, he thinks to himself. I may be a little too doting. What Bucky did not see when he turned around was Steve smiling at him.
The rest of dinner is uneventful, give or take a few coughs and shivers. When they finished eating, Bucky has to turn off the oven He doesn’t want to leave it on all night, doesn’t want to risk a fire. It is still pretty early in the evening, only about 7:30 but he can see Steve is exhausted.
Steve stands up, but momentarily loses his balance. Bucky, overreacting, stands up and catches Steve before the smaller man can even try to catch himself. They find themselves in a precarious situation. Steve is leaning is weight against Bucky’s chest, as Bucky’s arm is wrapped around the skinnier man’s waist. Bucky’s cheeks turn red as Steve stares curiously at him.
After what felt like years of silence, Bucky lets go of Steve, realizing his friend must be confused. “Uh sorry, thought you were going to fall.” Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.
Steve yawns and says “Thanks, I almost did.” He actually flashes bucky a warm smile that honest to god gave the brunette butterflies. Get it together, Barnes. He thinks to hisself, as he watches Steve walk away to their room. He follows noting the apartment temperature going down again.
When Bucky gets to the room, he finds that Steve has set his blanket on his bed. “I told you Stevie, you need this more than me.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Steve says between shivers under his own blanket. “Can’t have you getting sick too. And you are being weird.”
“What do you mean by weird?” Bucky cocks his head to the side.
“Well, it would make more sense to share a bed, two blankets and two bodies would be warmer, and we have done it a thousand times. But ever since you got home from work, you seem off. So take your blanket, punk.” Steve stares at his bewildered friend.
Bucky hates that Steve is so observant. He hadn’t meant to be weird. But now his stubborn friend was going to freeze tonight because he refused to not let Bucky have a blanket. He lets out an exasperated sigh, plays up the drama of course. “Fine. You win. Sharing a bed it is.”
Steve beams at him. Bucky should of know Steve would win this out. With Bucky, Steve could have anything he wanted. He had to face it, he was wrapped around the younger man’s finger.
Bucky makes his way to a pile of books on the ground, grabbing his copy of The Hobbit, before stepping out of his pants, leaving him in a shirt and briefs. He takes the book and his blanket over to Steve’s bed. He scoots into bed with Steve, both men adjusting so that the blankets now cover of them, their bodies inevitably touching on the small, twin size bed. Bucky sets his book on the nightstand, knowing Steve will fall asleep first and he’ll probably do some reading.
Bucky suddenly freezes when he feels Steve lie his head on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown over the other man’s abdomen. Bucky’s arms are currently under his own head. This is new. Usually, they only got in this position through accidental readjusting while they are sleeping. Stuff that Bucky could just brush off. But now an awake Steve Roger’s is cuddling with an awake Bucky Barnes. He hopes that Steve cannot feel his heart racing in his chest. He continues to look up at the ceiling, hoping to nullify the blush creeping up his face.
Steve doesn’t seem to notice the other man’s reaction, or if he does, he hides it well. He whispers “Is this okay? I’m really cold and I guess I am trying to steal your body heat.” Steve’s voice sounds shy, almost embarrassed.
Of course, when Steve puts it like that, how can Bucky say no? He internally scolds himself for reading more into it. He tries to let out a casual laugh, though it sounded way more choked then intended. He lamely jokes. “That’s why you were trying to get me into bed. To use me?” He finally looks down at his chest, trying to see if his friend laughs. Instead, he is met with questioning blue eyes, genuinely concerned if this was alright. Even with only the dim light of a small bedside lamp, he can’t help but notice how those eyes sparkle. Bucky lets out a small, controlled, sigh and quietly whispers, “Steal away, buddy.”
“Buck?” Steve’s voice sounding even smaller this time. Bucky can’t remember Steve sounding so nervous about anything. He begins to panic internally even as he tries to stay cool externally.
“Yea Stevie?”
“You can say no, okay?” Steve whispers nervously.
“Steve what is it?” His voice more audibly concerned this time.
“Will put your arms around me? I feel like I just can’t get warm.” The way Steve asks is heartbreaking to Bucky, like he was worried Bucky would be upset.
For the first time, Bucky notices that Steve is still shivering. He had been so wrapped up by the way he felt having the smaller man so physically intimate with him, that he didn’t realize that the cold really was getting to Steve. He can tell by the way Steve was acting, he was embarrassed to make these requests. He knows Steve could be a proud man and to be in the position where he had to be so vulnerable was probably hard for him. So Bucky didn’t want to make it a thing, where Steve would feel obligated to have to say more. This was obviously tough enough. So without a word, he wrapped one arm around Steve, as the other fell over his own chest so that he cook connected his hands, locking Steve in, and trying to pull him as close as possible, trying his hardest to warm his sick friend.
Steve didn’t say a word, just flashed a tiny appreciative smile. They laid there in silence for a while before he finally heard Steve’s breath steady in a way that indicated that sleep finally overtook him. Bucky frowned because even in his sleep, the other man’s breaths seemed labored and congested. He hated that this was Steve’s life, that he couldn’t fix this for him. But at least he could help him for tonight. Bucky would be content spending the rest of his life as Steve’s best friend, even if it broke his heart know he could never be with Steve the way he wanted to be. This could be enough.
~~~~
A few hours pass by. Bucky had fallen asleep a little bit ago, still with his arms wrapped around the blonde. It is around 1 am when Bucky is disturbed from his sleep. He had become alarmed when he realized that Steve was no longer beside him. He sits up and desperately looks around the dark room, unsuccessfully scanning for his friend. That’s when he spots the soft glow of candlelight through the doorway coming from the front room. He notices both blankets are still in bed with him, so he worries about the offending temperature in the other room where Steve must be.
He makes his way out of bed, wrapping one of the blankets over his shoulders, and walks to the front room. Luckily, he found when he got in there, that Steve had turned one the oven filling the tiny front room with warmth. He spotted Steve sitting on their tiny old couch, kind of staring off. Bucky clears his throat, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice, still lost in his thoughts.
So, Bucky steps a little closer, stopping when he is a few feet away from his friend. A candle sits on the little crate they use as side table, the dim light barely illuminating his friend’s face. “Hey, bud. Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky says softly.
Steve doesn’t bother looking up, just keeps staring a head. He mumbles. “Was woken…up by something. You can go back to bed.” Steve looks visibly shaken and Bucky was absolutely not going to be able to just go back to bed.
Bucky instead takes a seat next to his rigid friend. Something was definitely not right. The way that Steve was sitting so stiffly, his face was distorted into a broken frown. At this level, Bucky can also tell his friend had been crying, blood shot eyes lit a glow from the candle. “Steve…buddy what’s wrong?” Bucky instinctively goes to rest his hand on the other man’s boney knees. To his surprise, Steve pulls his knee away, repulsed, still not looking at him.
Fear flashed through Bucky’s head. Had he done something? Had something happened while they were sleeping. Had Steve realized the way Bucky looked at him was wrong. He was trying to panic but that seemed fruitless. “Stevie…did I do something wrong?” Bucky didn’t recognize the voice that came out of his mouth. It seemed so broken and pathetic.
Steve let out a pained sigh, before momentarily pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes, like he was forcing back tears. Finally, he turned and looked at Bucky. He sounded frail; his voice laced with sadness. “No Buck…never. You could never do anything wrong. Its me…I am the something wrong here.”
Bucky immediately got defensive, worry coating his words. “What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong? Please tell me why you would say something like that?” He may have been a little louder than he intended, as he felt terrible as he watched Steve recoil at his tone. He lowers his voice before softly placing his hand back on Steve’s knee, this time the younger man letting it rest there. “I’m…I’m sorry for yelling, Stevie. Can you please just tell me what happened. I am sure you didn’t do anything wrong.”
He watches as a tear starts to well up in Steve’s eye again, as he obviously tries to will it to stop before it falls defiantly down his cheek. The dam is broken and Bucky watches helplessly as his best friend falls apart in front of him. Without thinking, he throws his arms around Steve pulls him into a hug. Steve buries his head in Bucky’s shoulder, repeatedly whispering “I’m sorry.” Bucky quietly shushes him, while running his hand over the back of Steve’s neck, trying to sooth his friend.
After what seemed like an eternity, Steve pulls away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Bucky’s eyes are still riddled with worry, his eyebrows scrunched together trying to figure out what could be wrong. Steve whispers “I might as well show you; you will see eventually anyways.”
Bucky feels his chest tighten. What could be so bad that Steve would be this freaked out. He tentatively nods his head, preparing for whatever it could be.
“Buck?” Steve questions.
“Yea, buddy?” He replies automatically.
“Thank you for being my friend and …” There was a sad hesitation in his voice before he continues. “And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anymore after tonight.”
That thought breaks Bucky’s heart in two. A choked breath escapes him. “Trust me…that’s not going to happen. “
Steve can only give a disbelieving, sad smile in reply. Bucky is now terrified at what could have caused this all.
Without saying a word, Steve picks up the candle and walks to the door that leads outside of their tenement. Bucky gets the idea that he should be following him. When Bucky catches up with him, he notices Steve’s hand shaking as he reaches for the doorknob. Bucky does not rush him, knowing that whatever this was, it was hard. Before long though, Steve opens the door and steps outside. Bucky follows close behind. For as cold as it was inside, the outside was colder. Steve didn’t even seem bothered though, too consumed with grief about something to care.
Steve stopped a few feet away from their door and turned back around to face it. For a moment, he thought he was turned around to face Bucky. Bucky starts “Why…why are we out here, Stevie? It is freezing.” Bucky still only in a shirt, underwear and a blanket. Steve had been a little better dress but not sufficiently enough. The only thing that left Steve’s mouth was. , “Look.” As he pointed behind Bucky at their door.
Bucky turned around and he felt like he got punched in the stomach. On the ground around him were a few broken glass bottles, but that wasn’t the issue. The pale light from the candle illuminated 7 angry red letters, painted sloppily in red on their door. Bucky reads the word out loud, simultaneously deflating with each syllable. “FAGGOTS.” He feels like his world is spinning. Did someone know…about him? Was this the guys at his job? Had to be, after the way they looked at him earlier, knowing he was lying. Worse yet, they are throwing Steve into this. Steve didn’t deserve to be taken down with him.
He was broken out of his thought by the weak voice coming from the man slightly behind him. “I…I was woken up by the sound of these guys laughing outside. They sounded drunk…and you know how much of a light sleeper I am. I thought they were going away but then it sounded like they were at the front door. They were still laughing and I heard glass breaking. You were out.” Bucky silently curses that he was such a heavy sleeper as he continues listening, eyes still fixed on the door. “So, I got out of bed to see what was going on. By the time I get to the door, they are running off, and one called me…this before disappearing down the steps. I tried to go after them.”
“Of course, you did…” Bucky replies, not processing it all.
“Yea, well it was too icy and I am too sick, so I couldn’t catch up to them. When I turned to go back inside, I seen this. And…and I am so sorry Buck.” Steve’s voice crumbles, sounding pathetic and sad, and full of hurt.
That’s when Bucky finally turns to face Steve. “Sorry? Sorry for what? None of this is your fault.” His voice is soft, only focusing on his hurting friend, ignoring his own hurt and panic.
Steve lets out a sniffle, Bucky unsure if from the cold or from fresh tears. “That’s where you are wrong. They did this because of me…”
“What are you talking about?” Bucky stares in confusion.
“These guys…they must have found out…found out that I …I am one.” Steve looks to the ground, terrified of Bucky’s reaction. Tears falling to the frozen ground, his skinny body shaking.
Bucky is overwhelmed with emotions. The most prominent of these emotions though was sadness for his hurting friend. Understanding the irony, he was still heartbroken that Steve thought he had to keep this his dirty little secret. This is why Steve thought they wouldn’t be friend anymore. He was lost for words but needed Steve to know that He was there for the long haul and this wasn’t going to change anything. For the second time this evening, he found himself pulling the younger man into a hug, the candle dropping, putting itself out. “s’okay Stevie…it’s okay. I promise…” He keeps repeating as his arms threaten to never let go of Steve again.
After a few moments though, he noticed the blonde shivering. It was still the middle of winter after all. Without saying another word, Bucky pulled away from the hug(reluctantly) before grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. He drags him to the bedroom where the warm bed wait, Steve not putting up much of a fight. When they get to the room though, Steve pulls his hand away and quickly makes his way to his bed. When Bucky makes his way to Steve’s bed, Steve puts up his hands to make the other man stop in his tracks.
“Buck, thank you for not kicking my ass.” Bucky puts on a hurt look, not believing that Steve actually thought he would. Steve explains himself. “Most guys would have knocked someone out if they found out their best friend was a fairy. So, um, thank you for not doing that.” Steve nervously puts his hand on the back of his neck before continuing. “But you don’t have to lay with me anymore. I get that can be weird now knowing…” Steve still refuses to meet his eyes.
Bucky lets out a huff. He can’t let Steve sit here and feel like he is alone. After what Steve confessed, he thought it was only fair. Ignoring, Steve’s protests, Bucky walks to the bed and sits on the edge, facing Steve. The streetlight out the window dully lighting their faces. He rests his hands on his own thighs, suddenly clammy despite the freezing temperatures. He says “I know…” He stutters “I know… who did this.”
“Who?” Steve sounds surprised despite himself.
“Some guys from the job.” Bucky says sadly.
“Why would they do that?” The smaller man responded, confused.
“Today…they asked me if I was that way you know? They thought that I treated you differently then how a guy should treat his friend.”
“Oh…” is all that escapes Steve’s mouth, Bucky watching an “O” form on the other’s lips.
“I…um of course…told them they were wrong but I guess they didn’t believe me. I’m sorry Steve. I guess…um…” Bucky stops, unsure if he wanted to finish.
“You guess what?” Steve asks, curiosity getting the best of him as he finally locks eyes with Bucky.
“I guess I was too obvious, Stevie. Look, I…I don’t know if I am that way. All I know is that I only got eyes for one person and that person is a fella.” Bucky’s face turning pink with the admission.
Steve stares, visibly confused, unsure exactly what Bucky is getting at. He dumbly asks “Who?”
Bucky gives an uncomfortable laugh, obviously apprehensive. “Are you that oblivious, pal? You…Stevie.” As the other man’s name slips from his mouth, he finds himself trying to look anywhere to avoid the gaze of the blue eyes staring into him.
All Steve manages to choke out is “Really?” His voice sound apprehensive and shy But to Bucky’s surprise, it also sounded hopeful. Yea, he already knew Steve was queer but that did not mean that he automatically like Bucky back. But maybe…he did?
It was this hopefulness that gave Bucky the courage to look back at Steve, his own light eyes staring into Steve’s. He can tell his friend was blushing hard, It was adorable, and pretty impressive for someone who was so pale moments ago. Without thinking about it, Bucky reaches his hand across the bed, and rests it on Steve’s shoulder, still safe in the platonic zone if they wanted to turn back. He whispers almost too quietly for Steve to hear. “Yea…really. You know how much I love you, Stevie, Always have. And for a long time, I thought that love was just because you were my best friend, you know? But overtime, I came to accept that the love I felt for you went way beyond that of a friend, even a close friend.” He looks down before looking back up, sporting a small mischievous grin. “Plus, I think you are really fucking hot.”
Steve somehow manages to blush eve harder, Though he was blushing, Steve was never one to back down from something he wanted. With the knowledge that his best friend was just as into him as he is to him, He scoops forward down the bed, so he very close to Bucky. Bucky’s hand had made its way off Steve’s shoulder, to now gently rest on his hip. He moves his head close to Bucky’s. The older man could feel Steve’s breathe on his face as he replies with a nervous smile “Good, because I’ve had eyes for you since were teenagers. I always got jealous when I seen you with a random skirt instead of me.”
Now Bucky was turning as pink as Steve, red hues covering his face and ears. He made Steve jealous?! He couldn’t believe it. Steve really wanted him. He takes his free hand and moves it to the back of Steve’s neck, wanting so bad to kiss him. He whispers “Can I kiss you?” It sounds so silly coming out of his mouth but he doesn’t want to push Steve.
Unfortunately, to his dismay, Steve says “No, Buck…”
Bucky looks down, suddenly feeling defeated. Had he read the signs wrong. Was Steve admitting he loved him too but did not want to pursue such a risky relationship. His head began to spin as he pulled away. “Oh, I/m sorry.”
Steve lets out a little laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to pull away. “I said no because I am still sick, jerk. Trust me I want to kiss you.” Bucky can’t help but laugh at himself too. Steve continues, “But I would like you to stay in bed with me tonight, if that is still okay."
“Of course, it is...anything for you.” He beams.
A few minutes later, they were laying down, Steve’s head on Bucky’s chest like earlier. Except it wasn’t just like earlier. The action was the same but the feelings were different. Earlier, there was tense atmosphere of secrets they were both hiding. But now it felt like it should have always been like this. Like they were complete more complete. Something that had always been there could thrive. Bucky lazily runs his fingers through Steve’s hair as they begin to drift back to sleep. “Buck?” Steve sleepily asks.
“Yea?”
“So you are my best fella now, right?”
Bucky chuckles to himself that Steve would even worry enough to ask. “Right, Stevie.” only getting a soft okay in response. Bucky lays there, waiting for Steve to fall asleep first. Thoughts run through his head, uncertainties about what to do tomorrow about those asshole, and how this is all going to work. But the one thing he doesn’t worry about is the fact that Steve is his and he is Steve’s
Other two chapters, poorly written smut in the second half of chapter 3.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30749381/chapters/75892694#workskin
#bucky barnes#steve rogers#stucky#steve x bucky#pre serum steve#1930s stucky#captain america#fanfiction
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