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nanagoswife · 3 years

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I Failed Everyone. I Failed You.

(^^these are related to the fic^^)

HAPPY MAY 4TH EVERYONE

In celebration, I decided to write this random idea I had literally just last night (right before I wrote it. I wasn't even planning to write last night 😅) Anyways, I thought we could use some Obi, even if he isn't going through entirely good times. With me, I had to end it on a lighter note so sad Obi doesn't necessarily last the whole time.

Pushing this aside, happy May 4th everyone.

May the force be with you, always.

- - -

Summary: After Order 66, Obi-Wan has to go and deal with Anakin. Taking place after the duel, he comes to you for support but, as the next hours go on, you're the one needing comfort.

W/C: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of flame boy, mention of mass death, character death, angst, Obi being a sad boy

The threatening shades of red and orange accented by the black, soot covered ground would’ve frightened him in any other situation. Even the locals had an unwelcoming presence as they floated over the molten lava, gathering Maker knows what.

Now, though, he was more focused on a different fear that had come true. The order was destroyed, his friends turned on him, he failed Anakin. Obi-Wan Kenobi had failed one of the people he strove to do only good for.

Instead of his true duty, he had just battled his closest friend. His brother. His son. The one other he cared and watched over not because his master had told him so, but because he felt inclined to. There had been something in Anakin that peaked something inside of him that drew him to Anakin.

What good was he if he failed everyone he ever loved? First, Qui-Gon, then so many others. Even people who had just been there that fought by his side or died to save him. Then there was this current moment. He had failed to see how the war was a fool’s game. The person leading it was really on the enemy side and let his true colours show in a drastic change.

Obi-Wan had failed. He had even failed you. Compared to you, Obi-wan knew so much more about what was truly going on. Had he seen how overly fond the Chancellor was for Anakin, even you were suspicious. Yet, he didn’t act on it soon enough.

Due to this, you were caught up in Anakin’s tirade before it turned into the battle he had endured. You had come with Obi-Wan hoping that you could talk him back. Anakin always did have a strong connection with you. He had told Obi-Wan at a point that he looked to you as a mother figure, a role model.

It almost worked, too. It was almost as if something snapped in Anakin as you tried to step closer. All you wanted to do was embrace him and tell him how it would all be okay even after what happened with Padmé moments before. That’s not how he saw it. So, he had used the force and threw you against the ship, rendering you unconscious.

Being protective of both you and Padmé, Obi-Wan tried a last ditch effort to try and talk Anakin down. Despite being known as the ‘Negotiator’, his negotiating skills greatly lacked compared to yours. He had failed your mission to bring him back to the light.

With everything, it led to him watching as he was burned alive, almost pleading for help. Instead of listening, he turned away, unable to watch.

The image was sure to haunt the rest of his days as he walked back to the platform with Anakin’s lightsaber. Before this had all happened, he was able to check to make sure both you and Padmé were still alive. Thank the stars that you both were. He could only hope the baby was alright.

When it came to you, he was relieved to know that the one person he loved most dearly was alright, considering. You would’ve been the last straw had Anakin killed you.

Even in this time of pain and grief, he couldn’t help but be amused at the thought of how, not only did Anakin see both you and him as parental figures, but the two of you had really been together the whole time. Whether Anakin knew or not, the two of you raised him like your own because both of you knew that you couldn’t actually have a child of your own. So, Anakin played that role.

That was why you were so adamant on trying to talk him out of it. Unlike Obi-Wan, you refused to raise a hand to Anakin. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have either, had he not almost killed you and his own wife who carried his child. It repulsed him.

As he neared the platform, fear filled him at thinking something may have happened while he was gone. Did clone troopers arrive and find you here? He didn’t want to think about it, partially because, at this point, he would just give himself up to it.

Stepping up the platform, intense relief overtook him when he saw you with your back turned to him. You only turned when both R2-D2 and C-3PO had greeted him.

He didn’t need to say a word for you to know what happened. Why else would he be carrying the lightsaber? Although you hated that it happened, you couldn’t blame Obi-Wan at all. His pained expression showed how heavily it weighed on him.

Obi-Wan didn’t stop when the droids met him. Instead, he kept his path to you until he was in your arms. The tears that he had just wiped away now mixed with the ash on his face once again as he buried himself into your neck. One of your hands easily held the back of his head while the other gently rubbed his back.

As you held him, your own tears filled your eyes. You were unable to bring Anakin back. You had lost the closest thing you had to a son to the dark.

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan said, barely coherent through his cries. “I-I failed him. I failed you.” Just his voice wrenched your heart as his pain was so prominent.

His words pained you in a way that they never have before. In your mind, he didn’t fail you or Anakin. You were just as much to blame. As was everything else in and around your lives. That wasn’t what he needed to hear, though.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you said quietly into his ear. To further comfort him, you traced delicate circles in his hair. “You didn’t fail me and you definitely didn’t fail Anakin. There’s no way we could’ve known that this is what was going to happen.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No,” you said firmly but stayed soft so you could comfort him further. “You taught him well. The rest were his decisions. We couldn’t force his path, Obi.”

Carefully, you moved his head so that you could look him in the eyes, cupping his cheeks with your hands. The usual soft, caring blue was now dimmed with pain and grief. Although that’s how you felt, you tried to remain strong on the outside. He didn’t need how you felt added to his own emotions.

“Come on,” you said gently, “Padmé is inside. We need to get her into medical care.”

Slowly, Obi-Wan nodded and you led him inside by the hand that didn’t carry the lightsaber. When you walked in, you left Obi-Wan by Padmé’s side as you went to pilot the ship off this dreary planet.

“Twins?” you exclaimed when you heard the news. You, Yoda, and Obi-Wan all glanced at the other when the medical droid told you this.

“Go. By Senator Amidala’s side, you should be,” Yoda told you when you had looked worriedly at your friend. The fact that she was dying hadn’t quite settled in just yet. Instead of voicing this, you nodded to Master Yoda and quickly made your way to Padmé’s side.

Out of pure instinct, you grabbed her hand.

“Y/N,” she said weakly.

“Shh, save your strength. You’re about to have a couple little ones making themselves known,” you said with a slight chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. To your relief, she let out her own laugh.

The rest of it was all a blur. Padmé’s tight grip on your hand was merely a reminder that you were still here. It was a reminder that these may be the last few moments you get to spend with her.

At a point, you had looked up to where Obi-Wan was watching from the other side of the glass. Trying to be brave, he offered a small smile in comfort. It did help a bit before your attention was drug back to the situation as the grip on your hand was tightened.

Once both Luke and Leia were born, Obi-Wan joined the room and held Luke as you held Leia.

When you looked down, Padmé was smiling at the two babies that the two of you held. Then it fell. “There’s good in him,” she whispered, breathing deeply. “I know… I know there’s… still…” and she faded.

Obi-Wan looked as desolate as you felt. Other than the two of you, there was no one else. Sure, there was Yoda, but relationships with him weren’t as deep as with everyone you’ve lost today. Now, you and Obi-Wan were left with the children of your closest friends.

Later, after your discussion with Yoda and Bail Organa about what would happen with the children, you were watching the twins in the nursery through the glass wall. So many thoughts were running through your mind, the most prominent being what would happen with you and Obi-Wan.

During the meeting, the relationship you had with Obi-Wan no longer needed to be hidden. Even though Yoda already had known for years, he was open to what the two of you had to say. This was all to lead up to the point that the two of you would take Luke to his family on Tatooine and, together, you would watch from a distance.

Your thoughts now were about how the two of you would stay hidden with this duty. You thought about how this all would affect the next days, months, stars, maybe years. Would this plague both of you for the rest of your days? Would this draw you apart? Would it bring the two of you closer? Would you finally start the family the two of you wanted?

“Darling?” Your racing mind was interrupted as you heard the familiar voice. Turning to it, you saw Obi-Wan’s worried gaze. This time, it wasn’t because of everything else that had happened. It was a worry for you. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, quite…” you trailed off as you looked back to the two newborns.

Seeing your gaze, he immediately knew what you were probably thinking. He stepped up to you and pulled you into his embrace as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. What you needed was comfort, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Don’t worry, Darling. This won’t pull us apart, I promise,” he said reassuringly.

As he held you, an idea popped up in his head. It was something he continually thought about, but never was able to do. There was so much that he could finally act on that was once held back due to the code. Now, he could tell you and ask you everything he wanted to for so many years. Especially with this idea now.

“Y/N, darling?” He moved slightly back so that he could look into your eyes. The troubled look that he saw in your eyes earlier was now dimmed down and was replaced with the usual fondness he loved to see. “To prove this, I want to ask you something.”

Confusion suddenly took you over. What could he ask that would prove to you that nothing would happen? That is until he started to sink downwards. He kept going until he was kneeling, looking up at you and held one of your hands in his. The whole time, he didn’t remove his eyes from yours.

“This has been something that I’ve wanted to ask for so long. I haven’t been able to before, but now I can. Y/N, will you marry me?”

Overwhelming happiness threw every thought from everything from the last twenty-four standard hours. It was the first time you truly smiled for days, maybe even weeks. It rendered you speechless as this was a day you thought you’d never get. Eagerly, you nodded your head before pulling him up to kiss him. The first time you would share a kiss without the fear of others catching you.

“I love you, Obi. So much,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you too.” Obi-Wan lifted a hand to your cheek and traced small circles with his thumb. Although the reasons that made this moment possible were horrible, he basked in this small thing that helped both of you forget. This was well needed for now. “Maybe we could finally start the family we’ve always fantasized about,” he said while bringing his lips to your forehead.

You pulled your head away, but didn’t move away from his hold. “Really?”

“Really. Those dreams can finally be a reality.”

Without any more hesitation, you kissed him once again. There will be much to overcome, but you’ll have each other to work through it. You’ll have the other to comfort the other. Eventually, you’ll have another that will make you want to be better.

Then, you knew that Obi-Wan hadn’t failed you and you hadn’t failed Obi-Wan. Even though you both lost your closest friends, and you may have failed so many, you hadn’t failed each other. And in this blissful moment, that’s all that matters.

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @hopeladybug

If you want to join a taglist, message me or send in an ask. I'll eventually get something set up, but this is the only couple ways for now 😅

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theflyingfeeling · 3 years

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May I ask for Aleksi as a gardener AU? 🥺🌷

You guys come up with the cutest AU ideas!! 😭 I present you gardeners Aleksi and (more importantly) Rilla 🌱

Aleksi has an organic garden that he opens for visitors every year in July for two weeks, and every time his is moved to tears about how much joy his little perennials and annuals bring to the people in his neighbourhood (some of them even bringing guests from out of town to watch Aleksi's poppies and peonies) 🌸

Rilla is not quite as pleased, however; in her own dachshund way she disapproves of the visitors stomping on her backyard, sitting on her porch steps, and stealing the attention of her Aleksi. She shows her annoyance by either sulking and growling under the rhubarb or by digging the soil furiously with her little paws. This amuses the guests greatly and Rilla is, indeed, one of the main attractions in Aleksi's garden 🐾

A couple of years ago Tommi helped Aleksi install a small fountain, and not much later the kids that visited decided it was a wishing well and started asking for their parents for coins to throw in it. Aleksi's not as convinced of the magical qualities of the water element and, feeling guilty for the kids tossing their pocket money away, he started suggesting they should wish for a glass of rhubarb juice and voilá, soon Aleksi would appear with drinking glasses and a can of homemade juice for everyone 😇

Sometimes Joel would come over with his guitar and strum along while the guests marvel at the flowers and crops, and Aleksi's certain the marigolds open themselves a little more when they listen to Joel play 🎵💜

Niko isn't fond of the masses but shows up from time to time nevertheless, if for nothing else but to take a nap in the hammock under the apple tree or join Joel's jamming by providing the vocals 👌

One summer Aleksi and Olli had a crazy idea about a garden yoga class and it was a far greater success than either of them would have ever expected. There would have been a demand for more classes for sure, but Olli had become somewhat flustered by the attention all the lovelorn housewifes had given him, and since then he hadn't dared step in Aleksi's garden during the open weeks 😳

And Joonas had contributed by buying Aleksi a little rubber duckie for the fountain 🦆

Aleksi loves when people ask him specific questions about the flowers; which ones would be the easiest to take care of, what organic planning is like in practice, and whether Rilla is more help or nuisance with it all. The answer is both; Rilla is happy to assist Aleksi with digging..to the extent she would often be a little too eager 🙈

The kids escpecially want to know which flowers were Aleksi's favourites, and he would always say the roses. The strange conflict of the beauty of the blossom and the treason of the spikes when you try to pick one is endlessly fascinating to him 🌹

(And not least because they remind Aleksi of someone he knows..)

Besides flowers, Aleksi's garden has assorted herbs and vegetables which he loves to dry and pickle and give to his friends and family for Christmas. Sometimes he worries it's a lame gift, but every time someone tells him they had seasoned their food with Aleksi's coriander or made a pie of his apples and everyone had loved it, he feels insanely happy 🥺

During thunderstorms when the water is coming down in buckets, Aleksi and Rilla will sit inside and watch the garden through the window: Aleksi worried his babies would suffer from the sudden flooding, Rilla happy she's inside, all dry and comfortable ☔

The autumn is always the worst time of the year for Aleksi. The sight of his little friends dying out slowly, one by one, is hearbreaking, even if he knows most of them will be back the next summer 🥀

Aaaaaaaaand if you want a little more romance, have these:

Aleksi has a huge sunflower field by the road, and in August when the flowers are blooming he puts up a sign saying "help yourself 💛" to let passerbys know they are allowed to stop and pick as many flowers as they can carry in their hands. After a few days, a bunch of his very own sunflowers show up on his porch with a message from a "secret admirer". This goes on for a week with new flowers and a different note every day, until in the last note the secret admirer asks Aleksi to meet him in the sunflower field (yes, literally in the middle of the field amongst the flowers). He goes and finds a special someone waiting for him (Joonas?).. 🌻

A mythology AU where Aleksi the gardener is tending to his little paradise and encounters a faun who is drawn to Aleksi's dahlias..and maybe something else 💓 (I'm thinking Olli? but Aleksi doesn't realise he's a faun at first)

And the classic: Aleksi works as a gardener for a rich family, and their rebelious son (guess who) takes an unlikely interest in him 😏

#blind channel #blind channel rpf #not me bursting into tears when i googled 'garden ornament' and found one of a dog with angel's wings 😭😭😭😭😭😭#so i had to abandon that idea because i was sobbing too much to be able to write 😂

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 5- It’s All Good, Mostly

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary : After dealing with the Winter Soldier and getting your shit rocked. You, Sam, and Steve with an unconscious Bucky, are deciding on what to do next.

Warning: angst, fluffy moments shoved in here

Masterlist

After making a hasty escape to an abandoned dying old warehouse in Berlin, you helped Steve pin Bucky’s metal arm to a steel compressor in hopes that once he woke up, he’d be your Bucky again.

Who knows how deep Hydra’s talons are pierced into him?

Listening to the dull roaring of a search helicopter in the near distance, you lean against the wide garage doorframe separating the room Bucky’s in from the rest of the cavernous steel warehouse. A deep frown staining your features as you study his sleeping form that’s slumped over a wooden box while his body leans against the steel contraption.

The man who joined your little chaotic trio stands on guard a couple feet behind you as Steve keeps watch over by the buildings entrance that’s decently close to the rest of you. So far you’ve all been here for about forty minutes by now, keeping to yourself as you protectively watch over Bucky while he dries from his dip in the river with Steve and that broken helicopter.

“You’re Y/N, right?” Inquirers Sam from behind you; blinking tiredly, you slowly turn around while keeping your back leaned against the wall of the large doorframe.

Arms folded and appearing less then enthusiastic, you nod in acknowledgment, “That’s me.”

Revealing a friendly smile, he looks at the ground before meeting your stoic gaze, “Been a rough couple of days, huh.” Muses Sam in an attempt at lightening up the mood.

“Been a rough couple of decades.” You bluntly retort back before closing your eyes and leaning your weary head against the wall.

Sam mouths a silent “oh, right” before folding his arms together and clearing his throat, apparently he’s not done, “So, uh...I’m not trying to be weird or anything, but uh....last time I saw you. You were laying on the ground dead, blood trailing out from your head....unless my eyes are playing with me.” Explains Sam before letting out a nervous chuckle, “Or you’re actually a ghost.”

Opening your eyes, you shift your gaze over to Sam, “I was, yes.....well, technically I wasn’t actually dead, my heartbeat just slows dramatically while my body heals together again. ” He stops smiling as you shrug, “Regeneration. I can heal quickly.”

Mouth forming a surprised O, he nods, “Damn. Aren’t you just full of surprises.” Jokes Sam as you crack the tiniest of amused smiles.

“Keeps me moving.”

For a few moments you get uninterrupted peace before he decides to start up another conversation, much to your already agitated state. Though this time his voice is more serious as he takes a step closer to your side, “He must mean an awful lot to you if you’re willing to follow him this far.”

Returning your somber gaze back onto Bucky, you sigh, “I knew him when I worked for Hydra, he was my partner for many missions over the decades.” Sam’s dark eyes flash over to you in curiosity as you continue, “After the fall of Hydra, I searched for him for a little while. Clearly my efforts were not in vain. And now, after all this time.....I can admit freely that I love him.”

Sam’s brows raise in surprise at this spout of news, he had no idea you and Bucky were anything like that, “Huh.....well uh, sorry all this happened to you two.”

You shrug while throwing him a friendly half smile, eyes softening as you look at Bucky, “As long as he’s alive and I keep my freedom. I don’t care what happens. I’m done with the people of this world, we’re both done with them.”

“The worlds not done with you two just yet.” Adds Sam with a concerned fatherly tone.

You sigh, “So it would seem.”

A moment later Bucky stirs, his head bobs slowly upward as he takes in a deep breath, blue eyes opening before turning left to look at the steel contraption holding his arm in place; Sam yells for Steve as you walk closer to Bucky.

Quickly, Steve and Sam arrive right after you, your brows furrow in anxious concern as Bucky keeps tiredly slumped over while seated on the smallish wooden crate. His eyes find yours as he looks to the ground again before muttering a raspy, “Y/N.” Causing a spark of hope to ignite inside your heart.

Steve stands to your left, suspiciously eyeing up his old friend, “Which Bucky are we talking to?”

Bucky blinks in thought for a short moment before an adorable smile tugs at the corners of his plush lips, “You’re moms name was Sarah.” He pauses for another small second as a larger smile reveals itself freely now, “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

Listening to your lover genuinely chuckle at a fond memory from so long ago fills your soul with happiness. Steve shares a relieved glance with you, gaze quickly returning back to Bucky, “Can’t read that in a museum.” You quip with a smile.

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Doubts Sam, still a bit unconvinced and full of cautious reluctance from the wild beat down him, you, and Steve endured to get Bucky here safely and in one piece.

Pursing his lips together, Bucky’s shadowed eyes search for yours, “What did I do?” He hesitantly mutters, greatly dreading that answer.

“Enough.” Quickly answers Steve.

Bucky shuts his eyes tight before lowering his head in shame, “Oh, God, I knew this would happen.” Mumbles your lover as his head comes back up to meet the three of you, “Everything Hydra put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

Biting your lip anxiously, you dread what he might ask you soon enough, then just as expected he does just that; eyes finding yours, Bucky’s face reveals a deep frown, “Y/N. How did we get out.”

Suddenly you feel rather small as the three men turn curious yet wary glances in your direction; Sam knows and Steve have an assumption, but Bucky doesn’t know the gory details. Shifting uncomfortably, you train your eyes on the floor, “Not important.”

Looking like he’s about to protest for an answer, Steve suddenly speaks up to break the tension, “Who was he?” Referring to the man who caused all of this.

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup....the doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than “I don’t know”. Presses Steve as Bucky’s face shifts into concentrated thought.

“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.” Explains Bucky as his eyes flash over to yours, it wasn’t just him they kept locked away under the ice.

Steve’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “Why would he need to know that?”

Hugging your sides, you hum, giving Steve a dreadful knowing look, “Because he’s not the only Winter Soldier.”

——

Leaning on the white, paint chipped wall to Bucky’s right, he sits on the wooden box with his hands laced together. Steve against the wall in front of him, arms crossed and a hard expression adorning his dirt smudged features, “Who were they?”

“They’re most elite death squad. More kills second to only one in all of Hydra’s history.” Admits Bucky with an unenthusiastic sigh, “And that was before the serum.”

“Who was the first?” Asks Steve.

“Me.” You begrudgingly mutter as the three boys look over to you, all expressing various shades of interest, pity, fear, and amazement. Yeah you’re not proud about it either.

Noticing the building awkwardness, and how your eyes stare daggers at the dirty floor, Sam joins the conversation, “They all turn out like you?” Eyes set on Bucky.

Sighing, Bucky looks at nothing particularly interesting to his left, “Worse.”

“The doctor, could he control them?” Wonders Steve.

Eyes shifting back down to the floor, Bucky mutters, “Enough.”

“Said he wanted to see an empire fall.” Says Steve, reciting the doctors words as he tries to think up why.

“With these guys he could do it.” You add after a brief moment, “They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight....infiltrated, assassinate, destabilize. They could take a whole country down in one night, you’d never see them coming.”

Bucky nods in silent agreement as Steve weighs the options while Sam wanders over to his side, “This would have been a lot easier a week ago.” He whispers, though you can still hear them anyway.

“If we call Tony...” Quietly suggests Steve.

“No he won’t believe us.”

“Even if he did...”

“Who knows if the Accords would let him help.” Finishes Sam.

The two men stand silently for a moment, thinking hard about the right course of action as their brows furrow thoughtfully before Steve whispers a half defeated, “We’re on our own.”

Sam then gives him a positive look, “Maybe not.” As Steve sends him a doubtful glance while Sam simply smirks with a knowing tilt of his head, “I know a guy.”

——

Standing in an old run down junk yard on the far outskirts of Berlin, your back pressed against an old milk truck as Steve and Sam search for a useable car that can hold two super soldiers, an ex military pilot, and a grumpy sixty two year old assassin.

Bucky wanders away from their bickering and slowly walks over to you as your gaze stays firmly trained onto the gravelly earth below. Soon enough his dark shoes are blocking your staring contest with the ground, “Y/N please talk to me.” Pleads Bucky as you gingerly raise your gaze to meet his soft one, “Tell me what’s wrong. Please? I know that look, something happened while I was him didn’t it?”

Biting your lower lip anxiously, you breath a heavy sigh before weakly shrugging, “I don’t wanna talk about it. You’re not exactly gonna like it.”

Understanding the warning and how noticeably uncomfortable you are, Bucky frowns, though he reaches his hands to gently touch your tense shoulders anyway, “It doesn’t matter. We tell each other everything, promise?”

Staring into his soft gaze with the tiniest bit of hope, you reluctantly nod as he trails his hands down your arms to gently grasp your shaking fingers with his, huh, you didn’t even notice you were shaking. You swallow thickly before giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “When the doctor got into your head....no matter how much I screamed and begged him to stop, or you to snap out of it. Nothing worked. You broke out of the glass cage and then I broke out of mine, then uh..” You pause a moment, swallowing nervously before whispering, “...the doctor ordered you to kill me.”

Bucky’s eyes immediately sadden as you share a weak smile before continuing on, “I couldn’t kill you. Even though I had the chance to....I couldn’t. But the Winter Soldier wouldn’t stop unless I did. So I let him think you killed me.” You watch as his lip quivers, heart thudding rapidly in his chest as he looks down at the earth in shame and regret. So much hate for what he had done even if he doesn’t remember anything.

Witnessing him deal with this heavy news breaks your heart in two, ripping your hands from his, he’s instantly caught in a huge bear hug from you. Quickly his strong arms wrap protectively around your waist as he pulls you into his chest, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry.” Mumbles Bucky against your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck.

“It was the only way. You would have done the same if you were in my shoes. No hard feelings okay Buck, I love you and that’s all that matters.”

Suddenly he pulls away from your neck to gaze lovingly into your dreary yet beautiful eyes, raspy voice above a whisper, “You love me?” He asks in astonishment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his kissable pink lips.

Breaking out into a beaming grin, you slowly nod, “Of course I do. Guess I should have told you before all this shit happened.....didn’t find the time.”

Chuckling, Bucky presses his forehead flush with yours, “Y/N, I love you so fucking much.” Reveals your lover before swiftly pulling you in for a heated embrace.

His lips move masterfully against your own in the bright mid sun of the day, bringing a sense of great joy and warmth bursting into your chest as he kisses you with the love of a thousand beautiful moons in the starry night sky. But all too soon are you interrupted by the sudden whistle from Sam as he steals away this brief affectionate moment.

Breaking from the kiss, you and Bucky turn to face the irritating man as he smiles a bright satisfied grin, “Come on you two love birds, we found a keeper out back!” Before beckoning you both over with an enthusiastically dramatic wave of his hands.

Holding tightly onto Bucky, you practically growl, “I’m gonna break his arm.”

Quickly turning to face you he hums, “We’re wanted criminals remember, no breaking anyone. Got it.” Snickers Bucky cheekily as you lightly peck his cheek.

“What’s another thing added to the list?” You muse before letting him go and walking towards wherever Steve and Sam are, Bucky following close behind.

——

Seated to Bucky’s immediate left, shoulders smooshed against each other, you make a face as Steve and the blonde woman Sharon, get out of their respective vehicles. Eyes flickering over to Sam, who’s conveniently seated in the passenger seat, you frown in annoyance, “You’d think we could have gotten a bigger car.”

“It’s all they had.” Replies Sam with the ghost of a humored smile as he watches the two blondes stand beside one another while Sharon pops open the trunk to reveal his suit and Steve’s shield.

“I could have just stolen a bigger car.” You mutter to yourself as Bucky stifles a laugh.

More long moments go by, causing you to shift uncomfortably as you hopelessly try to find a suitable position in the cramped ugly old blue buggy. Noticing your discomfort and his own for that matter, Bucky stares at the back of Sam’s head, “Can you move your seat up?”

“No.” Deadpans Sam while you throw him a glare through the side mirror. Huffing in irritation, you shuffle closer to the left door as Bucky shifts a bit for some more leg room; Sam no doubt absolutely loving this.

Rolling your eyes, the three of you continue watching Steve and Sharon talk about whatever happens to be important at the moment, soon they stop and give each other an unsure look before Steve randomly pulls her in for a smooch. Your brows immediately raise in surprise while Sam and Bucky give him proud brotherly smiles when he looks back at the buggy. Face falling in slight embarrassment for being caught.

Soon after he drives the three of you to some airport parking garage, the ride goes decently smooth with the exception of being practically squashed between the car door and Bucky’s beefy ass. Rolling past a white van, Steve parks the little buggy about two parking spaces away before everyone files out.

You watch as he walks over to greet a man as a brunette woman accompanies his left side; your eyes travel cautiously between the two as you seat yourself on the edge of the buggy’s roof while Bucky leans his elbows against the top near your one hand placed there for support.

Soon the first man opens up the sliding van door to reveal a dark haired guy who immediately flinches and awakens with a start. He squints at the intrusion of sunlight before slowly making his way out of the vans door, “What time zone is this?” He questions, obviously dealing with some sort of jet lag.

The first guy nods towards Steve, “Come on. Come on.” Pushing him towards the one and only....

“Captain America!” Softly exclaims the man in excitement, eyes bright with bewilderment as he quickly shakes hands with Steve who mutters, “Mr. Lang.” In acknowledgment.

“It’s an honor.” Says this Lang guy while he continues to excessively shake his hand, “I’m shaking your hand to long. Wow! This is awesome!” Mr. Lang pulls away before pointing at Steve while he turns to the first man and the brunette, “Captain America. Hey, I know you, too. You’re great!” The woman hands him a bright pursed lip grin as Mr. Lang turns back to Steve.

“Jeez. Ah, look, I wanna say, I don’t know a lot of super people, so....thinks for thanking of me.” He quickly mutters with those exact words, a second later his eyes shift over to Sam, “Hey, man!”

Sam nods, “What’s up, Tic Tac?”

“Uh, good to see you. Look, what happened last time when I...”

“It was a great audition, but it’ll never happen again.” Muses Sam as you look over your shoulder to send Bucky a curious look that is well returned.

“They tell you what we’re up against?” Interjects Steve, bringing the central objective back on the table.

Mr. Lang’s brows furrow in thought as he mutters, “Something about some psycho-assassins?” Yeah, that’s one way to put it.

“We’re outside the law on this one. So if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.” Warns Steve.

Mr. Lang shrugs, “Yeah, well, what else is new?”

“We should get moving.” Urges Bucky as you nod.

The first man speaks up again, “We got a chopper lined up.”

Suddenly warning sirens sound out loudly throughout the airport as a German voice advises everyone to leave the premises immediately; understanding exactly what’s being said you gain everyone’s attention, “They’re evacuating the airport.”

Their faces show deep concern, as they turns to face one another, “Stark.”

“Stark?” Questions Sam.

Steve reluctantly nods before addressing the rest of the team, “Suit up.”

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #fanfic #fanfiction #series rewrite #bucky series #tfatws x reader

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra Dimitrescu x Maiden ----Valiant pt.2

Part 1

You don’t think you could catch a wink of sleep if you tried.

Your mind is just too busy to shut down. Nerves buzz across your whole body. You feel like you’re suspended in time, trapped in a loop endlessly replaying the previous night’s events. Your mistake was getting involved in affairs that didn’t concern you. In this village, that can very well be one’s undoing. You know it. You knew it.

Yet you still intervened.

Like a fool.

If you close your eyes, you can still see her. The brunette Dimitrescu. A living painting of a woman in a background of howls and pitch-black darkness, who spoke with a lilting voice and prettily pronounced vowels –and complete disregard over human life.

Earning her amusement was the only reason you and the shopkeeper got to see another sunrise, although you have a sneaking suspicion it will be his last. Nobody disrespects a Dimitrescu and gets away with it. It may as well be law in the village –and the sentence for breaking it is very clear.

The man doesn’t remember what he did. It may be for the better, bitter as it feels to you. Either way, you try not to stare at him too much –nor the bruise on his face in the shape of your knuckles— when you enter his shop and ask for the brunette daughter’s order. It’s under the initials C.D. No name has been given and no address. He hasn’t realized who she is. Perhaps being permanently intoxicated has to do with it.

The box you receive weighs heavy in your hands, for more than one reason. Seeing it springs forth in your senses the expensive scent of her perfume, the tickle of her hair against your nose when she leaned in. Her lips were soft as a wildflower’s petals and cold as snow.

The “Thanks, sweetheart.” she said plays on repeat in your head.

Of course, such is your luck that you couldn’t pine over any normal girl. It’s human nature, you suppose, to desire what’s forbidden, but that’s not the only adjective that describes her;

She’s lethal.

A certain part of you was aware the moment you looked into her blueish amber eyes. Like a snake being stared down by a hawk or a deer caught in the gaze of a wolf, your place in the food chain wasn’t quite the same. Part of you was –is— attracted to her beauty. Part of you was petrified.

The stories your mother told you about her family don’t help in that department. Maidens who have been taken as maids into their castle never came back. Nobody who passed that threshold ever returned. There are rumors about dungeons filled with wailing. Warnings, to avoid bloodied steps should one come across them in the forest. To fear the mark the three daughters bear on their foreheads.

Hours pass. The sun begins its descent down the plane of the sky.

You can’t help but wonder if you’ll see it rise again.

You tell your employer you aren’t feeling well and need to take the evening off. You’ve worked non-stop so many days he doesn’t get to voice anything other than a grumble of acknowledgement.

It’s… a daunting experience, being alone after sunset.

You aren’t used to it, which makes it all the more jarring when the distant howling begins. You’re sitting in your couch with the nicest button-up shirt you have on –might as well look good dying, you figure— waiting.

And waiting.

Night has completely settled in. The cold penetrates your skin. You busy yourself with lighting the fireplace, pretending not to hear the sounds from outside. The cracking of wood helps, if only for a little bit. It gets a tad warmer, though you’re still chilled to the bone.

Perhaps she won’t come. you’re beginning to think.

But then, a peculiar sound comes from the other side of your door. Like the buzzing of insects, followed by a rush of air. Followed… by a knock on the wooden surface.

Your lungs suddenly empty of oxygen. If it was possible for a heart to jump right out a person’s chest yours would be doing just that. You have to answer but you’ve lost your voice. Every instinct screams at you to stay as far away from the door as humanly possible.

“It’s me.” you hear her muffled huff.

You summon all the courage you possess to walk to the entrance –and turn the handle. The brunette Dimitrescu is standing there in all her black-clad glory, eyes gleaming in the dark like gemstones. The very edge of her lip curves up upon seeing you. You move aside to let her in and waste zero seconds in closing the door behind her.

Her hood is pushed off in one graceful motion, revealing her waterfall of rich brown hair. “It’s cold in here.” she states, then turns to you. “Aren’t you freezing?”

You are, but that’s the least of your worries. “Kind of.” you say as you hover there awkwardly.

Your breath leaves a hint of smoke behind. Hers does not. You’re moving towards the box before your nerves cause you to break down in front of her.

It’s one thing to have a pretty girl in your house for the first time.

It’s entirely another when said pretty girl can also very easily kill you.

“Eager to get rid of me, beautiful?” she asks. There is obvious teasing in her voice but also an undertone of… something else. Disappointment, maybe. Whatever it is it strikes straight at your heart.

“I—no.” you reply, quickly. “Can I offer you something to drink, uh…” you still don’t know her name.

“Cassandra.” she smirks. A name as beautiful as the rest of her.

“Can I offer you a drink, Cassandra?” The offer makes her smirk widen, almost to the point of a grin. It’s cute but you’re not sure you want to know why the question amuses her so greatly.

“Depends.” she retorts, taking off her gloves. “My choice of drink is very… singular.”

“Well, there’s wine. It’s… good.”

She eyes you for a moment. There is hunger in her gaze, something deep, as it lingers over your collarbones. Then she averts her head in favor of looking about the house. It can’t be anything like the castle she lives in, but it’s quaint, at least. Her heels click against the wooden floor. They come to a stop in front of the small table your sketchbook lies upon.

“You draw?” she questions, curious as a child.

Please, don’t look inside. you pray. The rough sketches of sheet-clad brunettes will surely give your tastes away and your heart can’t take that embarrassment on top of everything else right now.

“Landscapes and stuff. When I’m bored.” you lie to save your dignity.

“I’m a bit of an artist myself.” she grins proudly. “I paint.”

“…acrylics?” you ask.

Cassandra gives you that secretive smile again. The one that is both hot and scary at once. “You could say that, yeah.” If any of the rumors have basis in reality, you don’t want to think about what she could be painting with. Some things are best left unsaid.

“So. I got your order.” you say, taking the box in your hands.

Cassandra walks to you and takes the object between her pale fingers like it weighs nothing. You’re left staring. At her hand, then her eyes, looking into your own with that same curiosity from earlier. “I’m sure mother will like it.” Then, after a pause, “She’d like you, too.”

You’re not sure what to say to that.

“You’d look good in the castle. But then I’d have to share you and I don’t think I’d like that.” Her fingers absently toy with the hem of your shirt while she speaks. It’s terribly distracting, to the point you almost miss what she says. It’s not fair that everything about Cassandra is just so damn attractive…

You like her, you realize. You already knew that you’re weak to her looks and her grace and the way she talks, so it’s not a startling revelation. But what is surprising is the mirror of what you’re thinking in her eyes. She likes you back.

She could just turn and leave, yet she doesn’t.

Instead, she lifts her hand to your chin. Traps it between thumb and pointer… and leans in. You think she’s going to kiss you goodbye on the cheek again, like the last time. Instead, her lips find the corner of your mouth and leave you breathless.

For a heartbeat, you don’t move.

Cassandra lingers, almost unsure but unwilling to let go.

A certain part of your brain is triggered and the sense of danger and reason keeping you back evaporates. You turn your head to kiss her fully, sucking on her lower lip, running your tongue over its softness until she opens her mouth to let you in. She tastes like strawberry lipbalm and wine and oh God you’ll die right there with that little moan she gives.

You end up holding her sides and she the back of your neck until you have to pull back or you’ll melt into an aroused puddle on the floor.

She looks as dazed as you feel. Her nails dig into your skin but your warmed body only draws pleasure from the slight sting.

Cassandra’s hooded eyes drop to your throat like a woman left thirsty in the desert far too long. “…does the offer for a drink still apply?” The breathy quality her voice has taken does things to you. You can only nod and trust she won’t kill you. She did ask, so your chances are probably decent.

Brown hair tickles your nose. She’s wonderfully close, the length of her cool body pressed against yours. You can feel the swell of her breasts and the firmness of her thigh almost as if there are no clothes between you. Your body is alight, heart pounding. You want her.

“Keep still for me, beautiful.” she says with a little growl to your ear and—

Pain comes.

Sharp. Biting.

You don’t expect it. A harsh gasp leaves your throat. You can feel twin needles embedded in your skin, breaking open your vein. The corners of your eyes prickle. Something thick and wet trails down your collarbone while she swallows mouthfuls, keeping you tighter in place. It’s agonizing, at first, but the area begins to numb, then fill with a pleasant tingle.

You can’t tell when Cassandra stops drinking from you, but you feel her tongue on your neck, following the red trail down before it ruins your shirt.

Your brain can’t comprehend what just happened, yet something about it is just so raw and erotic you know you won’t be able to sleep for days without the thought of her haunting you.

“You’re delicious, darling.” she breathes, eyes brighter than before, licking her lips like a lioness.

You want to reply, but you nearly wobble on your feet. “Ugh.”

“Take it easy and dress your wound.” she smiles, fingertips tracing the slope of your jaw. “I’ll come by again, sometime.”

Your hands tighten on her sides, but she only gives a little laugh –and steps away too easily. Her hood is pulled back on. A last molten look is sent over her shoulder.

Then, your mind halts for the hundredth time that night as you watch her figure disperse into a swarm of insects and black swirls. The door closes behind Cassandra.

Your hand slowly reaches up to your neck, where the imprint of her teeth in you –her mark left on you– yet throbs.

Ko-Fi

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #Cassandra Dimitrescu x OC #lady dimitrescu's daughters #lady dimitrescu's daughters x oc #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #fanfiction #sexy vampires are sexy #I'm in love with the entire family send help

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citrine-eyed-witcher · 4 years

Text

Give You Peace

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: When he can’t sleep, Geralt turns to Reader (who is a healer) for relief.

Warnings: None

A/N: So here’s my first work for The Witcher. I’ve only seen the show on Netflix, but I’m reading The Last Wish right now and I’m gonna try the game when I go home for the holidays. I do apologize if there are any errors or if Geralt seems out of character and would also greatly appreciate constructive criticism!

Geralt has fought countless monsters in his many lifetimes, but the one that always seems to come back and haunt him is the insomnia. He’ll go for stretches of days or even a week or two at a time with minimal sleep. Sometimes he won’t be able to fall asleep at all, and that alone is worse than any wound or curse he’s endured. Such prolonged restlessness leaves him irritated and desperate, seeking any source of relief that the world has to offer, even if it means toying with darker forces. Any effort is worth the slightest bit of peace.

But there is one mercy that the universe has afforded to him, and that mercy is you. On the edge of a lake, there sits a stone cottage, covered in endless tangled vines of emerald ivy. A vast garden of herbs and spices thrives on the side of the house closest to the water, and just the scent of lavender in the air is enough for Geralt to begin to relax as he urges Roach down the narrow dirt path. Once he’s close enough, he dismounts the mare and ties her to the post just a few yards from the house, leaving her to rest and graze as she pleases for the night.

Geralt is silent as he enters the house, not wanting to frighten you in case you’re already asleep for the night. Through the window he can see the silver glow of the moon on the surface of the lake, and if he weren’t so tired, he’d stand to appreciate it longer. It’s not often that he has the chance to admire such beautiful scenery. He’s used to swamps and ruins and barren lands.

He takes a few steps in the direction of your bedroom, pushing the door open as soon as he can reach it. The witcher’s brows furrow in confusion, however, when in the soft light of the fire he finds that your bed is empty. He steps further into the room, his eyes searching for you, but he’s stopped in his tracks as the edge of a blade kisses his throat. Exhaustion delays his reaction time more than he’d like to admit, but as soon as his hand wraps around the wrist of his attacker, he lets out a breath. He knows it’s you before he sees you.

“I’ll have to admit, this isn’t my favorite way to be welcomed home,” he murmurs, voice low as he releases you. Geralt then turns, his golden eyes meeting your soft gaze. The dagger falls to the floor then, and he wastes no time in taking you into his arms.

“Geralt, you can’t scare me like that. I could have hurt you,” you reply, and he closes his eyes as you cradle his face in your hands.

His lips turn upward and he hums in amusement. “I’m confident that you wouldn’t let me die at your own hand,” he says. Geralt is quiet for a few long moments then, taking in a deep breath of your scent. There’s something so intoxicating about the combination of honeysuckle and lavender. Maybe because it’s so distinctly you that nothing else could ever hold in comparison.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he whispers, his words slurring minutely in his exhaustion, and though he’s not aware of it, he leans more and more into your touch, letting you take more of his weight.

You frown slightly, brushing a few strands of hair from Geralt’s face and sighing softly at the dark circles under his eyes. “No, but you should be. When is the last time you slept, my love?,” you ask, expression twisting in concern as you speak. You’re well aware of the restlessness that Geralt faces all-too-often, but it still breaks your heart every time he comes to you in this state.

“It’s been days. Every time I close my eyes just...nothing,” he admits, shifting to rest his forehead against yours, and all the while his eyes remain closed. By now the exhaustion has settled deep into his bones, and he wants nothing more than to be able to finally get some rest.

You sigh softly, gently running your fingers through Geralt’s long, white hair. “How about a hot bath first and then we can sleep?,” you ask, knowing that some of the oils you usually put in the water might help him fall asleep.

Geralt hesitates for a moment. He hadn’t come to you to be an inconvenience, though he knows that you would never see a bath before bed as an inconvenience, especially if you thought it would help him. Finally though, he relents with a soft sigh. “Alright,” he murmurs.

You smile softly then, slowly separating from him so that you can go to heat up the water. While he waits, Geralt takes a seat on the edge of the bed, listening as you go around the house gathering the other things you need.

Before he knows it, Geralt is being pulled up from the bed and led back to the small bathing chamber in the next room. Soon, he’s undressed and sinking into the steaming water, and he leans back against the edge of the wooden tub, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of lavender and chamomile. “You’re too good to me,” he tells you quietly.

“You say that as if you don’t deserve to be treated well, Geralt,” you reply softly, shaking your head. You then step into the tub with him, taking a clean cloth with you. He opens his eyes as you join him, grinning at the questioning look on your face.

“Let’s just call it a luxury seldom enjoyed,” he murmurs, reaching out for you and pulling you against his chest in the water, “but one that I could get used to.” He presses his lips to yours in a slow, longing kiss, caressing your face in a careful, gentle movement.

“I can’t say I’d be opposed to having you around more often,” you whisper against his lips, threading a hand into his hair.

Geralt hums softly in response. “Witchers don’t take vacations,” he quips, resting his hands on your hips.

“Well then, I guess the next time you come in need of a healer, I’ll just have to take my time. Keep you here for a while longer just so we’re sure you’re alright,” you tease right back.

“You won’t hear any complaints from me,” he tells you.

“Good,” you say, capturing his lips in another kiss. “Not that you had a choice in the matter.”

—

Once you’re both clean, you climb out of the tub, drying off quickly before dressing in clean sets of nightclothes: you in your nightgown and Geralt in a pair of soft trousers. And while you go to find one last sleep remedy, Geralt stokes the fire in the bedroom, building it up enough that it will last the rest of the night without dying out.

You step back into the bedroom with a small vial in your hand, which you offer to Geralt as he stands to meet you. “What is this?,” he asks, taking the vial and holding it up to examine the dark liquid inside.

“Valerian. It’s what I use to put people to sleep when they’re in pain. It’ll do you some good,” you explain.

He raises an eyebrow, but pulls the small cork anyway. “Are you sure this isn’t part of your plan to keep me here forever?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’ll never suspect when I decide to do that. Trust me,” you reply, going right along with his teasing. You watch then as he takes the valerian in just a couple small sips, taking the vial from him when it’s empty. “Go lie down. I’ll be there in just a second,” you urge him, turning and leaving the room once more.

Geralt nods, more than willing to finally lie down after waiting so long for some decent sleep. He pulls back the covers, settling himself onto the mattress and sighing at the immediate comfort that it brings him. With the heat of the fire at his back, he’s finally able to truly rest for the first time in a long time. Already he can feel the valerian beginning to pull him under.

By the time you return to the bedroom, you can tell that Geralt is hardly coherent anymore. You let out a soft, contented sigh, climbing into bed next to him and pulling the quilt just over his hips. He hardly stirs at the movement, and you know then that you’ve been successful in giving him relief from the insomnia. You settle down next to him, gently caressing his face, though you’re surprised as his hand comes up to wrap lightly around your wrist.

Geralt opens his eyes just enough to see you lying there in front of him, and he hums lowly in content, pressing a kiss to the underside of your wrist. “Thank you,” he murmurs, fighting against the exhaustion that pulls him so strongly. It takes all of his will just to keep his eyes open.

“Shhhh. It was nothing,” you whisper, running your thumb along his cheekbone. Your expression softens at his gaze, at the unparalleled love and admiration held in his amber eyes.

“No…,” he trails off, his eyes slipping closed. “It was...more than that. You’re…,” he stops again, and you smile, thinking that he won’t even be able to finish his thought before he falls asleep. Your heart swells at the sight, happy to see that he can finally rest the way he needs to.

“...You’re my only peace…,” Geralt breathes out. And with that, what light grip he hand on your arm fades to nothing. And already you can see that he’s fallen into blissful slumber.

You let out a soft breath, eyes burning just slightly with the threat of tears at his admission. You place one last kiss on his temple before resting your head on the pillow next to his. “I love you, Geralt,” you whisper to him, closing your eyes and drifting off beside him just moments later.

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia

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clubyukhei · 4 years

Text

drunk in love (m)

pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader

genre: smut, fluff

summary: ever since he saw you in your deep red bustier dress at the start of the night, he made it a mission to let the world know you were his, and as he had whispered to you at the start of the night — to ravish you once you both got home.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: hi!! this is my first one-shot that’s really just a smutty continuation to this drabble (but you don’t need to read it beforehand)!!! i had a lot of fun writing this self-indulgent piece sdhfjshdfjs some feedback would be greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoy drunk+needy yukhei :))) as always thanks for reading <3

–

“baby… where did you go?”

the sudden sound frightens you for a second, making you tighten your grip on your cup of water as you walk down the dark hallway of your silent apartment. it’s past midnight, and the only source of brightness is the bedside lamp in your bedroom. a soft groan comes from there, and you quicken your steps.

just as you enter your room, you hear your name being whined needily in a deep voice.

propped up against the headboard and still fully dressed in his now crumpled suit, your boyfriend pouts at you like a kid whose candy got stolen.

“i was just getting you some water, yukhei,” you sigh.

“you left me alone. come back here,” he mumbles, even though you’re just two steps away from him.

you stare at him in amusement, enjoying his drunk self who’s three times more desperate for your affection.

to be honest, you knew you were going to end up in a situation like this. in fact, you pretty much saw this coming a few hours ago when the two of you were at sicheng’s wedding — where yukhei had one too many.

he shrugged you off each time you eyed him as his wine glass had a refill, squeezing your thigh with his hand that had been resting there the entire night. it definitely didn’t help that kunhang was sitting on yukhei’s other side, too. the two boys kept joking around with their own drinking challenge, but unlike your boyfriend, kunhang was actually capable of handling his liquor.

by the time the newlywed couple came over to your table, yukhei was half-gone, giggling at every single thing that came from sicheng’s mouth.

but as humiliated as you were over your boyfriend’s drunk antics, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. after all, it had been a long time since you last saw him playing around with the gang — and you weren’t going to dampen the mood on such a joyous occasion. even though yukhei’s antics earned you a few weird stares from the other guests, it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“dude, you know sicheng’s mum just passed by us right?” dejun snickered at yukhei, who had been throwing peanuts at yangyang sitting across the table.

he went on like this, entertaining the boys till the end of the night. after most guests had left, ten offered to give you both a lift home out of concern. you thanked him in relief just seconds before yukhei pulled you onto his lap, refusing to let you get up and making everyone erupt in laughter.

but only you knew that yukhei wasn’t just drunk.

ever since he saw you in your deep red bustier dress at the start of the night, he made it a mission to let the world know you were his, and as he had whispered to you at the start of the night — to ravish you once you both got home.

but now, as you watch him down the cup of water in one go before placing it on the bedside table with a thud, you’re pretty confident your boyfriend is going to doze off anytime… which means that the anticipation that had you buzzing throughout the night would unfortunately just have to die.

“so hot,” yukhei mumbles.

his hand reaches for his neatly done tie you had helped him with earlier, pulling the knot as if it was going to loosen right away.

a sigh leaves your lips as you take a seat next to him and help him undress. his eyes are droopy, and you keep glancing at him to see if they’re shut, but he’s just observing you quietly.

“arms up.” you tell him when you finish unbuttoning his shirt.

you expect him to comply, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“trying to get me naked, hm?” he chuckles incoherently, and you just snort and brush his comment off.

he lifts his arms anyway, and you quickly remove his shirt, dumping it on the floor. by now, the drowsiness is getting to you. you’re dying to take your makeup off and finally hit the sheets — it’s all you can think of as you undo the buckle on yukhei’s belt and pull his pants off, which almost has you sweating.

just as you stand to head to the bathroom, yukhei’s large hand circles around your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed in a swift moment.

“baby, come here. i wanna tell you a secret.” yukhei murmurs, and you stare at him, waiting for a joke.

“no, no. come closer.”

and you do, shamelessly taking a seat right on his crotch which makes his lips twitch into a smirk. his hand leaves your wrist and runs up your arm to the back of your neck, where he pulls you even closer until you feel him breathing by your ear.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispers.

you turn to face him with a lazy smile before pecking him on the cheek. “thank you, yukhei. you told me so many times.”

and he did, he was showering you with compliments all night, each one getting cheesier than the last.

you’re about to move away again, but his grip on your neck tightens as he whines at you to wait. this time, you comply when you notice his gaze darting from your cleavage to your lips, and then your eyes. there’s a hint of lust that you recognise all too well.

“i keep thinking about ripping this dress off and fucking you until you can’t walk.”

just like that, a fiery heat lights up your entire body and you almost gasp, but your breath hitches in your throat. the satisfaction of realising yukhei didn’t forget about his promise makes you dizzy, and all the excitement floods your entire being at once.

stunned and speechless, you rest your forehead against his, thinking of what to say. but you’re very much distracted.

his hands curve around your bum, moving your core against his obvious hard-on, and every bone in your body instantly turns weak. you feel like putty whenever his hands are on you like this, and right now it’s taking everything in you to not grind on him.

“yukhei, b-babe... you’re too drunk.” you stutter, but your body only betrays you as your hips slowly begin to move with his guidance.

“i can still make you come,” he says seriously without an ounce of doubt.

the tension in the air thickens when his hands smooth over the soft skin of your thighs, moving beneath your dress and pushing it up in a slow and teasing manner, almost like he’s daring you to say no.

but you know you’ll say yes anyway — and he knows that too.

so you nod shyly, as if you haven’t been anticipating this moment for the entire night, as if you weren’t bummed at the thought of not being fucked tonight.

yukhei doesn’t waste a single second. his plush lips practically attack yours as he rolls you over to the empty side of the bed hastily.

you feel his hands slide down your spine, desperately in search of the zipper, and you arch your back to help him. just as you’re beginning to taste the champagne on his lips, he pulls away and rushes a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

then he’s dragging the zipper downwards, and you sigh in content when your dress finally loosens after hours of clinging onto your skin. the sucking against your neck stops abruptly, and you watch yukhei sit on his knees clumsily as he expertly tugs your dress off.

you’re thankful for the dim lighting in the bedroom when you feel the heat on your cheeks. yukhei just kneels in front of you, marveling at your almost bare body like a work of art he’s never seen before — except he has, on too many occasions.

“fuck… you’re so beautiful,” he muses, his gaze heavy with lust. yet when he leans down and kisses you, it’s sweet.

you’ve lost count of how many times he has complimented you tonight. but it doesn’t matter, you realise, because this one makes you feel most powerful.

he kisses down the valley between your breasts to the only piece of clothing left on you — your silk panties, that are already drenched.

there’s no time to be embarrassed about it. yukhei moves quickly until the tip of his nose is grazing the wet spot on your panties, and you feel hot breaths of air against your opening.

the mere heat drives you insane, and all you want is for him to be inside you, stretching and filling you to the brim already. but you have a feeling he’s got other plans.

“not tonight yukhei, i need you to fuck me n-now,” you say desperately, and he raises his head to look at you.

“and you said i was too drunk,” he chuckles.

“babe…please,”

“at least let me eat you out first, baby.”

before you can protest, you feel his fingers hook onto your panties and drag them off your legs. his warm hands run up your thighs, spreading them apart until you feel your leaking center exposed to the cool air in the room.

there’s a moment of silence before he lets his tongue glide along your wet folds teasingly, and all you can manage is a gasp.

“you’re so wet, baby.”

yukhei squeezes your thighs when you don’t respond.

“you’ve been waiting for me all night?”

you hum pitifully, not bothering to pretend anymore.

“my baby is so needy, hm? let me take care of her.”

and then his tongue dives into you without warning, curling against your walls in a manner that has a series of broken moans escape your lips.

your hands slide through his long locks as yukhei eats you out like a starving man, his strong hands holding your quivering thighs down.

you’re reeling in pleasure when he suddenly sucks on your clit and adds a finger in you, throwing you off guard again. in a split second your back arches, but he holds your hips down.

yukhei groans when he sees the wrecked state you’re in — you’re writhing against the bedsheets, your hands now gripping onto your pillowcase for dear life.

dragging his long fingers against your soaking walls, he rubs your sensitive bud softly and watches as your mouth starts to hangs open with not a single sound coming out.

“you’re so sexy like this,” you hear him say, but you’re too overwhelmed to even acknowledge it.

it only takes a minute before he feels you reach your climax, and his fingers move faster. you’re chanting his name when he suddenly climbs over you to press his lips against yours. his fingers leave just in time for your wetness to flow out of you.

“fuck,” yukhei mumbles as he pulls away.

you watch him lean back and lick your arousal off his fingers lewdly, the image only making you crave for him to pleasure you again even though you just came.

a curl falls over his forehead as yukhei sheds his boxers off. you bite your bottom lip as you take in the view of his ridiculously handsome face, his abs and the deep v-lines leading to his hard, throbbing dick.

as if he’s reading your mind, yukhei moves to situate himself between your thighs that are still spread open. you’re still reveling in the bliss of your orgasm when he runs the tip of his shaft against your glistening lips and lets out a curse.

impatient, you rest your hands on the sides of his hips and pull him close to you. he gets the message right away, sliding all of him into you in one go at a slow, delicious pace. your wetness welcomes him with ease, and you sigh at the feeling of your walls hugging his thick length.

yukhei’s eyebrows furrow as his hands move to hold up the back of your thighs. he bends down to peck the corner of your lips, shifting himself inside you a little, which makes you moan.

“you feel so good… so warm and wet for me baby, fuck.”

“i’m all yours,” you say and he groans, rolling his hips slowly.

growing impatient, you tighten your grip on his broad shoulders and run a hand down his chest. you open your mouth to tell him to fuck you already but his lips crash into yours, silencing you. you mewl as he swiftly pushes your thighs against your chest and rests your calves on his shoulders, interlocking his hands with yours.

then he’s thrusting into you slowly, just for a few seconds, and pounding into you without restraint.

your eyes shut out of pleasure as you revel in the way his length hits you deeper in this position, brushing against your sensitive spot. yukhei buries his face in the crook of your neck, where he grunts lowly.

you lie on the bed helplessly, folded into half, letting your boyfriend fuck you the way he loves. the sinful noises he makes along with the sound of skin slapping in the air rings in your ears. your walls are tightening around him as you feel your second orgasm building up again.

“b-babe,” his pet name leaves your lips in a whimper.

“come for me baby,” he tells you in a husky voice, his pace picking up as he thrusts into you without a care in the world.

“want you to come for me again,” yukhei mutters, one of his hands reaching to cradle your face.

the euphoria hits you on cue like a wave. you sob softly, freezing for a moment as one side of your face presses against your pillow.

you can’t see your core but you know it’s a huge sticky mess, and you hear your arousal splattering onto the sheets as yukhei continues pounding into you hard and fast. you know he’s reaching his own high — it doesn’t take him long when he’s drunk.

his hand turns your face towards his and he kisses you, this time sucking on your bottom lip. you feel his length twitching before it sinks into you one last time, filling your insides with his warm release.

a few minutes pass as you both stay like this, listening to each other’s breathing and calming down together… until you accidentally move your sore thighs, which makes you wince.

yukhei shushes you immediately, giving you a quick smooch before reluctantly pulling himself out of you. then, he straightens your legs, pausing whenever he hears you hiss.

you shut your eyes for a few moments before gathering whatever strength you have left in your body to sit up on your elbows. doing your best to ignore the soreness of your thighs, you watch as yukhei makes his way to you with a towel and your sleeping gown in hand.

as he cleans you up gently, you observe him in awe, realising that this man was behaving like a giggly drunk just earlier. it amazes you that even after that many glasses of wine, he had the energy to fuck you like that, instead of having you do the work.

yukhei grins devilishly when he catches you staring at him, deep in thought. he climbs over you carefully, avoiding your thighs, and kisses you softly — nothing like the man who folded you into half just minutes ago.

“i need to pee,” you mumble in embarrassment when he finally pulls away, which makes him let out that deep chuckle you adore so much.

“then go pee. you need me to carry you, baby?” he asks sweetly as he gets up, and you know what he’s playing at.

but you’re too tired to bicker with him, so you just open your arms and wait for him to lift you into his embrace — which he gladly does, with extra care, smirking at you the entire time he’s carrying you to the bathroom.

he waits for you to pee and helps you wash your makeup off. when he hands you your toothbrush with a smudge of toothpaste on top, your heart leaps and you want to be back in bed, snuggled up against him already.

your mouth hangs open as you’re ready to brush your teeth, but a huge yawn comes out instead. yukhei’s lips lift into a lazy smile as he giggles at you. you don’t think much about it as you start brushing your teeth, but when you glance at the mirror and see him just grinning at you in adoration with his own toothbrush still in his hand, your movements come to a halt.

“what?”

“i love you, my kind and beautiful goddess sent from above.”

“i love you too, but you are so drunk babe.”

“yeah,” he says, smiling so wide that all his teeth are showing now. “drunk in love.”

–

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

In The Streets Of London (Twisted Wonderland X Reader

Victorian Au)

Part one of a series, let me know in the comments who you think the killer is!

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Ghastly murder in the east end dreadful mutilation of a woman by the man known as the leather apron

"He killed another woman last night, father! How can you sit so idly by!"

The onyx skirt brushed up against the young girl's legs as she passed to and for across the room. Her leather gloves racked her (h/c) locks from her face, pulling them back in hopes that the thuggish feeling would simulate her frozen brain. "It a fifteen puzzle (1) even for Scotland yard!" she bellowed. "Than what in the devil's name do you think you and I could do about it, darling!" Her father turned to her, his grey eyes caging annoyance and misery. His tone was right above irritated...her father was never a delight went he became irritated. Divus Crewel, known to most of England as the finest mind in chemistry and alchemy in the 19th century. His daughter (y/n) Crewel was allegedly following in her father's footsteps in hopes of one day becoming a female fetal in chemistry herself. Of course, that's what all of England thought, the truth of the matter was rather was quite different. (y/n) harbored no interest in becoming a chemist nor an alchemist, the young lady found her interest in a more macabre filed, the field of forensic medicine to be precise. Prying secrets from the dead had become her little habit and due to Lord Crewel's rather negligent parenting, the girl had begun to study her precious cadavers full time, taking classes three times a weak in Night Raven College's medical and criminal department. For her it was exhilarating! Having to dress as a boy and sneak her way around the dreary campus was just as exciting as tea parties at the queen's palace were for "regular ladies".

"I bet he wore a Gigglemug (2) as he slashed their throats open!" (Y/n) the loud voice reverberated off the walls, it's heavy decibels hitting Divus right on his two-colored head.

"Love of my life, sunshine to my trepidation, NO ONE CARES! God dame that stupid sociopath, he's making my life miserable by occupying your grisly mind!"

(Y/N) ignored her father's outburst, her short heels clicking across the wooden floor of her father's laboratory. Her brain tried to envisage the infamous East-End to no avail, all she could picture was filth littered grey streets with a woman's corpse lying in her own ichor. Even the killer was hard to presume, there was no bloody way in hell that that monster could be human! No living being could do such heinous deeds, it must have been the devil himself! No no, such thought where for the uneducated, the people with simple minds, no she...she was a lords daughter one who was enrolled -illegally mind you- at one of the most prestigious schools in all of London--NO England! If anyone could find his monster it was going to be HER!

"I wonder if he'll--" A loud tapping came from the closed wooden door on the far end of the underground chamber. "Oh thank the all mighty himself!" Divus professed, lifting his occupied arms to the invisible sky, spilling some magenta liquid onto the table. Carelessly tossing the beacons aside, Divus rushed to the door a chip little prep in his usually professional step. Swinging the door open with as much force as a child ripping Christmas gifts.

(Y/n) remained behind, slumping tiredly in her father's chair. Her untrained eyes scanned the chemicals boredly, wishing that the half-rat (3) liquids would turn into tiny figurines, performing the event of the night of the crime. However, her bewildered thoughts where shortly heckled, by a pleasant young voice along with the ringing of her father's vexatious smoky voice. "Ah, Commander Ashengrotto and Chief Superintendent Shroud what do we own the pleasure of this unexpected visit." from the distance (y/n) heard some shuffling, abruptly jumping to her feet and straightening out her skirts. Her eyes followed the three men that trailed down the steps. Her father walking past to stand by her as Commander Ashengrotto and Chief Superintendent Shroud stood in front of her. Or in the case of Mr. Shroud, attempted to hide behind his superior officer. The grey-haired man, bowed politely, lightly taking hold of miss Crewel's hand in his leather-bound one and placing a fleet, feather-like kiss atop the back of her hand. Azul glared at Idia, the former's elbow digging sharply into the later’s side. Hesitantly Idia, folded into a clumsy half-bow before straightening back up, during the whole endeavor one could clearly hear the loud cracking over every bone in this spine. "Well..." Your father started, clearly annoyed at the murky silence. "out with it lads, what are you lot doing here?" Azul's ocean colored eyes stared as straight as an arrow into Divus's grey ones. "Professor Crewel, it may be best to send your lovely daughter out? I wouldn't want to taint her stunning innocence with this ghastly talk about gore and murder." His eyes spared a gaze at you, roaming over your figure with an amused glint. Before your father could answer you proclaimed loudly."I, my dear Ashengrotto, am not as innocent as you fancy me! I will choose to stay IF I SO DESIRE." From the side, you could practically feel your father roll his eyes. "Allow her to stay" Your father mumbled tiredly "The sudden shock of it all may knock some sense into this senseless girl." "As you wish" with that the detective became talking:

"We have reason to believe that...this Ripper or well "Leather Apron" as the news has begun to call him, is, in fact, one of the nobl--" (Y/n) gasped, her eyes widening with excitement. "REALLY! He could be living right in our neighborhood!!" A forceful smack hitting her head, it's vibrations sending waves of pain through her body. "Try and bot sound so excited darling daughter of mine. My apologies Commander, care to continue?" Azul coughed into his fist, clearly killing a laugh. "Yes, quite alright my lord. As I said we so believe the murder to be of noble heritage. As you may know, the Al-Asims are hosting a Nobleman's ball tomorrow evening I trust you have been invited." He paused in his speech looking from (y/n) to her father. Divus gave a court nod in the inspector's direction becoming him to continue. "Perfect! Well since you shall be in attendance I would greatly love for your daughter to ...how do I word this...Play bait?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT" Mr. Crewel screeched, "I shall not have my daughter mafficking (4) in the streets as a wannabe prostitute to help capture a deranged and rather vexing murderer!" Azul took a step backward, his back pressing smugly against Idia's chest. Even (y/n) sted half an inch away from her father. "Professor Crewel please relax, I simply mean that during the party (y/n) could slip out with an officer, who will be heavily armed. This may cause the ripper, who appears to have a warped sense of justice, to follow them. Once he decides to attack the officer will shoot at him and that will be the end of the Ripper's reign of terror over London." Divus rolled his eyes "marvelous plan detective...except what if the ripper chooses to not attack then? And go after my daughter once she is alone, asleep in her bed! Or outside shopping with some absent-minded servants? What then?" Azul lips knitted into a tight frown, his voice dying in this throat long before it reached his tongue. The professor did make a compelling point.

"Than we will send heavily armed guards around both you and your daughter until the ripper is caught." A dead, monotone voice cracked. For the first time since walking into the house either of the residences had heard Idia speak. His voice was so brittle and fragile that (y/n) though it would visibly shatter if any of them dared to respond. Even her father seemed too nervous to speak...an odd this for such a powerful man. It was Azul, who decided to speak first, unlike before his voice was low and decile no longer laced with that regal elegance. "Yes...as my partner just...um just...mentioned. If our plan does -by some unearthly phenomena- fail we will have guards circling you and your daughter until the ripper is caught and brought to justice."

It took the longest while before your father agreed. Of course, he placed some very strict requirements before officially "sending you to your doom" as he worded it. As the two detectives left you could hear the Shroud boy mumbling a string of "do I also have to attend?"

and "can't you catch him yourself?" as he left the house. "Peculiar man ain't her, father?" Your eyes tuned to your only parent, "yes yes, quite bizarre." His gloved fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist dragging you along up the stairs. "We have much to do if we are to prepare you for the Al-Asim ball"

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There was an unspoken tension amongst presumably every guest in the ballroom. all that swayed and danced, flaunting their pricey dresses and custom made suits, harbored a form of dark secret within their souls...no one in England was innocent but tonight, just for tonight there was one man who's guilt outshined the rest, one man how's hands where permanently panted with the blood of three innocent women.

(Y/n)'s back was pressed against the cool tiles of a stark white pillar. Her eyes darted from person to person, trying to memorize as much as possible about all of them. "Shouldn't a young noblewoman such as yourself be out there dancing?" ripples of dread and annoyance bounced inside the spoiled girl, who dared to speak to her in such a manner? She turned furiously ready to shout at whoever had just talked, only to stop short when she came face to face with the tall bored-looking butler holding a tray of drink parallel to his head. His grey eyes seemed to hold a dreaded looking, eyeing her curiously. Was this the officer who was meant to take her outside? Figuring it best to play (y/n) puffed up her chest a bit and leaned in close. "Do you have the money?" she whispered. The butler's face remained stoic, he simply sighed and muttered something to himself. "Madam if I had any money I certainly wouldn't be wasting in on the likes of you." He plucked a sparkling drink from the tray and reached to pass it to the young women. "Feather more I would highly recommend having a more subtle way of distinguishing your clients if you aren't too careful rumors may spiral and that chap...what was his name Jack the apron? May come to get you in your sleep." (Y/n)'s eyes widen as she gripped the drink 'It was him!' she thought, he was the killer! Before the girl could phantom out a reply the butler was already well on his way. She had to find someone! To tell someone quickly! She turned frantically trying to find her father or one of the detectives. "Hey, girly..." A low voice echoed from the shadows under the stairs. That must be the detective (y/n) thought to herself, she lifted her skirts and quickly marched over to the darkness hiding the owner of the voice.

Something grabbed (y/n)'s wrist, it was practically cutting off circulation. "W-who are you?" the girl struggled to form a coherent question. The man's face was mostly masked by the dimness but his emerald-like eyes shown like train's headlights. "Are you just like one of those three gals? The whores that died out on the street?" (Y/n) heartbeat began to quicken, she was wrong that butler wasn't the killer, this man was. When she looked at his eyes again they were molded into a sharp glare. All of a sudden the man let go of her wrist "Doesn't matter.." he murmured "I got other things to take care of...." His deep voice kept fading like it too was getting swept up in the darkest parts of the ballroom. "Do me a favor if anyone asks where Kingscholar is, come up with some good lie to tell them. Just make sure you don't say anything about me going outside. Aright dame?" With that the darkness seemed to swallow him whole, even his footsteps couldn't be heard as he walked away, only the absence of his suffocating aura. 'He had to be the killer' she thought to herself as she stepped back into the light of the lively ballroom.

Tiredly (y/n) wondered to the dessert table, her brain occupied, questions married questions, and gave birth to theories. Which one was it? The butler, lord Kingscholar? Neither may be, although that would just mean that you were only on edge rightfully, although you wished to keep your cool exterior. At the dessert table, every single surgery treat seemed to glisten. Their frosting's danced in the bright light of the thousands upon thousands of candles. (Y/n)'s mouth watered as she reached for a particular red tart in the corner of the desk. As she outstretched her hand it came to gently stroke up against another's hand. Her eyes darted upwards coming into contact with a smiling young man with clover colored hair. "My apologies my lady" He announced as he dipped into a bow. Automatically (y/n) gathered her skirts before curtsying herself. "Would you like the first piece" he offered, (y/n) nodded as the man cut a perfect slice and swiftly offered the plate to her before cutting one for himself. "I do adore cherry tarts" he spoke, "My family owns a bakery on the border of the upper west and east end. I personally stayed late last night just to finish this tart." (y/n) eyes began to shimmer as she placed the tart on the table. "So you must have heard the girl who was killed there!" she proclaimed. The man's eyes went wide, nervous beads of sweat dripped down his scalp. "Why miss, I don't know what your...implying." His once upbeat voice dropped an octave, his bright eyes seemed to get darker. For a second (y/n) contemplated what to do, was he acting so bizarrely because he had witnessed the murder? Or had he committed the murder? Before the young lady could ask him anything further a pair of boys, one short with a nest of blond unkempt hair and the other quite tall and muscular with snowy white hair came dashing towards them. "Have either of you seen leo- err, um" the blond one started

"The younger lord Kingscholar?" the white-haired boy started.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I...I saw him head to the dance floor with a young lady..." Her tone fluctuated, her face compressed into an emotionless look, prying to any who would listen that her lie would not be called out. The two boys exchanged a worried glance, their eyes as wide as plates. "He's probably with Ferona's wife again" the blond one spoke, nervous giggles leaping from his mouth. The taller boy quickly bowed, before running towards the host of dancers, his companion soon following his lead. When (y/n) turned back ready to speak with the grass haired young man, she noticed that he was nowhere in sight. Vanished like the magicians in the traveling circus.

For the third time that night, (y/n) could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The treat of a killer loomed at every corner of this mansion, every man here seemed to -in some way- resemble the faceless killer. And worst of all her "personal guard" was nowhere in sight! Not to mention her father was most likely off with some nobleman's wife or daughter doing lord knows what. Tears of frustration threatened to spill from her eyes. Everything was going wrong, she was no inspector, she could barely keep her composure during such a time of ease.

"Miss Crewel" A tiny bird-like voice, shook the girl from her misery. Turning her head she saw a young boy no older than 10. His blue hair and golden eyes were carbon copies of inspector Shrouds. "Where is my bother?" it took a moment for (y/n) to comprehend the question. "If you are talking about Mr. Shroud than I do not know...did he even attend tonight" the question came out more haughty than she had hoped, the last thing she wanted was to appear as a rude wrench to such a young child. "Well..." the boy's voice trailed off "He was supposed to meet you. You are the bait, aren't you? He was the officer entrusted with playing the role of your client." The young boy's eyes dropped his cheery pure nature slowly morphed into one as similar to his brothers, gloomy and dead.

"He hasn't been himself lately, the matter has only gotten worst when Scotland yard began investigating the killer....he's so tense about the matter, almost as if the case was perso--"

"THERE'S BEEN A MURDER! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE QUICK!" From the front of the ballroom two boys, one with red hair and the other with ebony hair stood. There faces where distraught sweat flew down their cheeks. For a fraction of a second silence flew over the crowd....only to veer into screams of terror and the ramped running of both lords and ladies. During the midst of the anarchy, you searched the entire chamber...there was no sign of Idia, nor Lord Kingscholar, nor the green-haired boy, nor the rude butler....all those you had suspected where gone...

Following the crowd, you and Ortho ran outside into the gardens. Sure enough, laying in a pool of her own blood with a torn stomach and guts pulled out, was a young lady no older than you where and right around her bleeding kneck a parchment note was pinned.....

Who do you guys think the killer is?

Tag list

@ghostiebabey @delusional-obsessions @succubus-lair @themarchinghare @permanentlyexhaustedowl @twst-diana @yuoritsu @pumpkiethepie @ladyy-grimm @xwildskullx

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1littleshippergirl1 · 4 years

Text

A look inside his world

Summary: Oliver finds out a few things about Marcus

@raviliuz I hope you enjoy it!

1. His friends

Of course he had friends. Most people did. Even Slytherins. Still, Oliver hadn't fathomed that Marcus did, given his general demeanor. He always seemed like he didn't, or rather, that he didn't care if he did or not. But he did.

Adrian was the closest thing to a brother he had. He was a year younger, in Oliver's year and the complete opposite of Marcus. Quiet, studious, kinder than anyone else in his house; Oliver had heard other students refer to him as the Hufflepuff of Slytherin.

Marcus was protective of Adrian. Oliver learned that some of the Slytherins would try to bully Adrian for his different views and attitude, which they found revolting for a Slytherin. But Marcus, he'd use the fact that most students were afraid of him to his advantage. Honestly, that part puzzled Oliver. Marcus wasn't very big, height wise-he was around his size-and his muscles weren't remarkably; but Oliver despised bullying so if that made everyone else leave Adrian alone then so be it.

They did almost everything together: class, meals, quidditch, hung around the outside or common room together. Oliver saw a tenderness between them that Marcus usually reserved for him, few and far between at that. He wasn't really affectionate, being that, until Oliver came around, he didn't receive it and even now, he would grow visibly uncomfortable, wearing an awkward that was rather unsettling for Oliver to see. However, there were times when Marcus would lightly nudged Adrian or ruffle his hair in a quick manner, just barely messing it up.

It had also been thoroughly important to Marcus that Oliver and Adrian get to know each other. It wasn't so much that he asked Oliver, either. Rather, he told him that Adrian would be at the Three Broomsticks and he was to join him at seven, no later.

2. His personality

Many people thought they knew Marcus with just a few words: cheater, angry, troll.

But Marcus was more than that (and he didnt have any troll blood in him. Oliver asked and took his boyfriend's eye roll as a no); once they were alone, away from the prying eyes and ears and gossipy students who had nothing better to do, he would then let his guard down. It allowed Oliver to see a softer side.

Granted, he was no romeo. He didn't make it a habit of calling Oliver affectionate nicknames, he wasn't the sort to plan elaborate dates or do more than pull Oliver into his side, awkwardly patting his back when he was upset. Actually, he was still a git ninety-nine percent of the time, being one of the many, many reasons that they fought.

But still, the side was something that Oliver saw. He was less tense, the anger would subside slightly and he actually relaxed. Sometimes, rarely, he'd lay his head in Oliver's lap, nearly falling asleep from the fingers that would thread through his hair absentmindedly.

Beyond that, few things had changed once they got together. He was still wildly competitive, still bragged about his house's win if they achieved one and, funny enough, worked his team harder than Oliver worked his, feeling as though he needed to impress him. It was amusing to Oliver, who would try to suppress a snicker.

3. His family

Marcus didn't have the best family. Oliver pitied him, having come from a family that valued togetherness and love.

Marcus' parents were cold, so unlike his own. They threatened to disown their son if he made any other house than Slytherin, and practically put him in the hospital when they learned he had to come back for another year. They were regularly smacking him around, making snide remarks and on a few occasions, using the cruciatus curse on him.

Oliver had been horrified to find that information out from Adrian. His first instinct was to find Marcus and hold him tight as he could, making fierce declarations of his love. Of course, he couldn't. Marcus would know that Adrian had blabbed and he was the last person who wanted pity.

So, for the longest time, he didn't mention. Didn't mention that he knew of the secrets that Marcus had tried to hide, that explained his aversion to touching and disassociation with happiness and love. He never had it to begin with.

Oliver made it a point of hugging him a second longer, telling him he loved him an extra time or two, genuinely complimenting. Stuff like that. It was all he could do and Marcus never suspected a thing (although he would give him a strange look from time to time).

4. His views

Before they'd gotten together, by pushing from both Adrian and Percy, who were up to here with exasperation, Oliver thought he knew how Marcus thought, what he believed.

All Slytherins believed in blood purity and would follow You-Know-Who till their dying day. That's what Oliver thought that Marcus was about and never thought that, perhaps, it might be different.

Marcus, as it turned out, didn't think that way. He was more neutral. He didn't think muggleborns were any less powerful, somehow beneath him and had never uttered the word "mudblood" except for the sake of keeping up appearances. He also learned that both Marcus and Adrian disliked the Malfoy spawn greatly and were more than annoyed that he replaced Higgs as seeker, seeing as he wasn't even that good.

Other than Adrian and Oliver, himself, no one else could know. There was too big of a risk for that to happen, should his family or some other family that was supportive of You-Know-Who come to find out. He'd be killed, dumped somewhere carelessly without a second thought.

For now, until it became safer, until the day he had to let the world know where his true loyalties were, he had to keep them hidden.

5. His intelligence

Most people believed that Marcus was stupid, especially for having to repeat a year, something of which had not happened for who knows how long in Hogwarts history.

But Oliver knew better. His boyfriend wasn't stupid or lazy or whatever else the students rumored him to be. He just didn't get it, it didn't click so easily like it did for students like Percy or the Granger girl.

If only he wasn't so stubborn and would accept help. Percy had offered to tutor him in the various subjects that he was having difficulty in (which was all of them), but Marcus vehemently refused, looking like he wanted to throttle Percy. Luckily, Oliver stepped in, thanking Percy on behalf of Marcus before any of that could happen.

Oliver knew why, why he didn't accept help and avoided any talk about the subject by shutting it down instantly-he was embarrassed. Marcus tried not to let it show, acting as if he was indifferent to the whole thing, almost glad because now he had another year of quidditch and could graduate with Oliver and Adrian, but when it really came down to it, he was angry.

Angry at himself for letting this happen. Angry for how stupid he felt he was and angry at everyone else that whispered to their friends, snickering at him and his situation.

That whole year, while simultaneously strategizing about winning the quidditch cup, Oliver had been determined to assist Marcus in his school work. He was the only one, on occasion Adrian, too, that could coax Marcus into letting him check over what he'd written or practice a spell by making it into a competition.

And it worked well. Marcus just needed a little help. That year, he managed to get a total of seven N.E.W.T.S and had been very proud (in his own Marcus way) to mail the letter to Oliver after he received it.

Marcus Flint was not what Oliver expected him to be. The angry brute on the quidditch field was only a small part of him. He was loyal to those that earned his trust. He was cunning in his own right. He was smart in those areas he'd been able to master such as Defense.

And later on, a few years later, when he, Adrian, Oliver and Percy fought side by side during the battle, he showed his bravery, fighting against his own father.

#marcus flint #flintwood #percy weasley #adrian pucey #oliver wood #harry james potter #harry potter #marcus flint x oliver wood #oliver wood x marcus flint #harry potter fanfiction

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a-lil-perspective · 4 years

Text

Handle With Care

A/N: Okay I know y’all are probably sick of the repetitive Crosshair X Reader works lately. But I promise it will all make sense soon. First and foremost, I’m working to dig deep in establishing some key points while the narratives move forward. Aiming for the full effect here. (Also, keep in mind that I’m reviving ‘Verd’ika’). The fic takes place sometime after ‘Reticle’, for reference. Sick Crosshair. Soft Crosshair. (I know, basically all of my works are that way) I will defend that moody sniper because in actuality, he is a very soft boi who not-so-secretly just wants to be loved and coddled, and that is the hill I’m dying on. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. [Warnings: None] @shadow-hyder @starflyer-104 @thegoodbatch @obiorbenkenobi @kriffingunlucky @karpasia @halzore @everyonehasanindividuality (Tag List is open:))

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Have you ever sneezed while your face is sealed airtight inside a bucket of plastoid?

News flash: It’s nearly as annoying as having a Yalbec male try to eat you alive—well, mate with you. Same difference, the sniper of Clone Force 99 will eventually come to find out.

The sneezing makes the air stagnant and it’s obnoxious, yet Crosshair is uncontrollably going on his fourteenth one in the short span of five minutes.

That’s completely normal.

The forebode of a creeping illness intensifies as the day progresses, and Crosshair finds himself growing more perturbed, fluctuating between hot and cold like an oscillating pendulum, and ticking like a time bomb waiting to go off, because of it. Tech’s face, scrunched with concern after having come at Crosshair with a thermal scanner, informs the sniper of a budding fever. But he’s not sick. Not at all.

He’s not sick, until your irresistible amiability convinces him that it’s okay to be, and that promptly earns him a spot snuggled in your lap, his stiff neck resting atop your thighs with only a slight begrudge to follow. His breaths are somewhat labored at the tightness seizing his chest. There’s a sharp pain running behind his eyes, and the feeling of suffocation is palpable—there’s so much pressure along his facial structure, his sinuses are burning. Yet he still manages to enjoy the way you’re running your fingers through the short fibers of his hair, nails scratching lightly along his temples and eliciting a stuffy hum of contentment from the miserable sniper.

Despite his unfortunate state, you’re having a rather lovely time. There’s no denying; you experience the swell of your already nurturing heart and an exhilarating thrill at the prospect of taking care of others—of Crosshair, specifically; ever the complex individual. You’ve long since established your solicit of such assistance, to which Crosshair slowly found himself relenting to the idea of as time paved the way. But the actual application of moments were rare.

It made the sniper slightly uncomfortable; the way his initial sneeze earlier that day had you immediately zeroing in on him with an intensity he believed only his sniper eyes were capable of. “I’m onto you”, your archly tone had soon informed, while a smile displaying nothing but affection immediately followed. Your height of perception rivaled his own, and extensive time spent with you reminded Crosshair that it was foolhardy to even attempt a facade, at this point. All it took was a beckoning of your index finger for the sniper to succumb to your care.

It’s every Clone’s most inward desire, really: to want, to crave the extended offer of a wholesome company that’s found beyond fellow Clone brethren. It’s but a dream. To take a beautiful soul by the hand and lead them past the doors of mass duplication—and in turn be lead—before traveling a ways until they each ascend the staircase of individuality; a spiraled one, snaking around itself yet still managing to differentiate. A Clone wants to usher you onto the same ship as them, wishes you to travel along the exact journey they’re on. It’s a never ending one, until it’s a short lived one. It surpasses beyond the surface level, transcending the artifacts of scars littering the planes of their battle-worn skin. It grants you a passage through the ancient cave of their emotions, where each broken piece you find along the way presents another opportunity for restitution, however minuscule. To say it’s a journey is only half of the intel.

Only half, but it’s progress for the sniper Crosshair. The thought worms it’s way past his sickly haze and warms him more than the herbal tea you steeped and promptly ordered him to indulge. He can’t exactly pay the same type of homage to the taste however, as he finds himself reflexively wrinkling his nose in disgust with each sip. The muted liquid didn’t taste near as good as one of his oldest companions that is Corellian Whiskey, in which he’s certain one long swig of will immediately restore his health to optimum performance.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” you let him down with pragmatism and a chuckle. “You need something that’s going to help you get better, not get you tipsy.”

You ignore his rising justifications, taking the empty mug that he downed through a swirl of complaints and placing it on the small stand beside the cot before opening the drawer to sift through the contents in search of the standby supply of anti-inflammatories. A sound of disappointment elicits as you turn up empty, and you gingerly begin to shift Crosshair off your lap in order to exit the room in continuing the search.

“I’ll be right back,” you promise gently, however, his fervent resistance halts any further movement.

“So this is it... you’re just gonna leave me here, sick and dying?”

The sight of Crosshair’s perceived indignation is beyond amusing to you. His voice is faint and the words are drawn out in attempt at gaining sympathy over your apparent ‘inhumane’ treatment to the frail sniper. You’re in the middle of convincing him of his long life ahead and encouraging him to drop the theatrics when goggled eyes peer in from the doorway.

“Need anything in here?” Tech’s oh-so-helpful self inquires. You note that there’s a thinly veiled mischievous ring to his question. Realizing there’s no negotiating with the over-exaggerating sniper, you’re thankful for Tech’s intercession, unbeknownst to him.

“Yes, actually; anti-inflammatories and some antihistamines, if you’ve got them? I’ve got a clingy, feverish assassin in my lap who I’m trying to convince isn’t dying from a cold.”

“I’m not clingy!” The sniper’s hoarse whine permeated, eliciting a snort from you that failed to overpower another round of his sneezing fit.

Tech’s eyes sparkled with mirth in mirroring yours, and he beamed knowingly. Words seemed to play at the tip of his tongue but he appeared to think better of it, instead responding with a succinct nod of his head before promptly making a retrieval.

It took seventeen seconds and approximately ten sneezes before Tech returned to the scene of Crosshair’s frustrated state now manifested as various obscenities. The engineer handed you the bottles of medication, and the whimsical glint returned once again. He backed out of the room slowly and with deliberation while keeping his eyes trained on the sniper, before addressing his older brother.

“Oh, by the way Crosshair: I’ve recorded the sound of your rather undignified whining; prepare for blackmail—” the pillow suddenly and aggressively sailing over your head towards the fleeing engineer had you ducking and trying not to develop your own state of wheezing from the laughter that ensued.

“TECH! I’m gonna kick your ass!” The raspy threat fell on deaf ears, for the cheeky youngest brother was long gone. Crosshair was left in the company of both your quietude and incessant coughing once again.

“If you don’t cough up a lung, first,” you address him in concern.

Crosshair’s eyes met the frown tugging your features. The cool pads of your fingers absently traced the line-work of reticle surrounding his right eye. The gesture bestowed a sense of comfort, and Crosshair allowed his contentment to echo in the space between. He reached up to capture your fingers in his own. The radiating heat from his increasingly flushed face was a stark contrast against your mild body temperature.

“...I feel terrible,” he allows himself the admission. It’s a work in progress: Crosshair’s understanding that he can truly be authentically honest in such company—a good kind of honest. Vulnerable, even. More communicative. You’re constantly testing his mettle and his ability to emote, and you manage to bring the sniper to his knees each time; though not out of defeat, not at all. You stroke his hair and that smile, it burns right through him. In all honesty, Crosshair would find a way to malinger nearly every day if it meant getting to be taken care of like... this. He confesses that it’s... different. It’s... nice—very nice. A rarity, but one Crosshair found himself to be enjoying a little bit more with each budding opportunity.

“I know,” you soothe. “Rest, ner cyare ram’ser.”

His fond expression at your doting soon donns a coat of revelation; an afterthought. “Actually, I think just a good smooch will do the trick for me, Doctor—best medicine there is,” he convinces, however weakly.

You snort incredulously. “You’d know this from experience? And for the last time, I’m no Doctor—you go around saying that and I’ll have some of the best Clone medics in the GAR greeting me with trivia, or something.” You briefly acknowledge the way Crosshair has conferred upon you the title of ‘Doctor’ ever since you patched up a nasty gash of his some time ago, and you find sudden hilarity in the picturesque scenario of having Clone Trooper Kix, profound medic of the 501st whom you’ve met a handful of times, suddenly taking a predilection to you because he thinks you’re some prestigious civvie medic capable of wrangling in even the Bad Batch.

Oh how that couldn’t be farther from the truth—the quartet of super soldiers hardly adhere to your advice or sound reason on a good day. You’ll be the first to admit: you have no control over those rowdy men.

The sniper shrugs, rolling his shoulders before tentatively returning to the comfort of your lap and sprawling out. He inhales deeply, and smoothly continues. “In theory, it’s the best medicine there is. So maybe we should, you know, test that out—”

Crosshair melted against the spontaneous velvet of hungry lips. In that moment, neither of you actually paid any mind to his sniffles or the adenoidal lilt of his voice that was now resonating. He tastes exactly as you remember; you’ve had a few previous engagements. Though few and far between, they leave you certainly not forgetful, and Crosshair is a man to relish in the sight of you imprinting your affection on him. The flight to blissful paradise is over before you know it as you retract and consider it a victory over the way Crosshair nearly whines at your absence.

“That’s all you get, ram’ser—just a taste for now to get you to shut your yap and rest.”

Crosshair regards you with as much indignation as he can muster. “You’re a cruel woman.”

You deflect with a smirk and assertion. “Yet here you are, coming back for more.”

“Because I can never get enough,” he defends.

“But you feel somewhat better at least, don’t you? Best medicine there is,” you smugly remind the ill sniper.

Crosshair’s eyelids grew heavy laden as he focused on the hot smolder benevolently spreading through his veins like a blessing; an antidote that is your delicious affection and strong medication. It’s beyond welcoming, and Crosshair can’t decipher whether the rising heat was from the fever, or your intoxicating taste, or both. While the sniper wasn’t absolute, he came to the fierce deduction that it definitely had something to do with you, and suddenly his head was spinning.

“Yeah... Verd... you taste way better than the Whiskey,” Crosshair slurred with realization while in his delirious state, barely above a murmur as he nestled his head further into your lap and Maker, drowsiness was forcefully threatening to claim him already and the medications had barely begun to take effect. Your serene embrace deserved utmost commending for rivaling Wrecker’s, who’s only other arms Crosshair ever felt secure within—prior to you.

Your brows arch as a playful smile materializes. “Verd?” You questioningly test the syllable on your tongue.

Crosshair manages a conspiratorial smirk through his thickening fog of exhaustion. “Yeah... ‘Verd’. You know... Verd’ika? It’s a... new nickname for you—the shortened version,” he struggles to explain—well, ramble is more like it—he’s uncharacteristically rambling at this point, and you absently wonder if Tech and his impish tendencies are just around the corner still recording the latest developments for future leverage.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this,” you endearingly point out. Slightly goading though, you realize, as Crosshair’s head abruptly twists to better regard you with nothing short of perceived offense. His pride appears to have momentarily overpowered his cold in favor of salvaging his dignity.

“I’m a sniper,” he fiercely explains. “I’m not adorable.”

“No, of course not,” you smoothly placate after smothering a laugh. His newfound nickname for you once again surfaces from your sea of thoughts. You pursue your lips in contemplation. “Verd... I like it.”

Crosshair smirks approvingly. “Can’t wait to hear all the nicknames you have for me, Darlin.”

Of course he would say that. Crosshair’s not dying from a cold, but he is dying to hear the mellifluous vocalization of all the different names you’ve stored up for him while finally in the midst of love making.

Good thing patience is his strong suit.

A textured palm lovingly rests against the expanse of his forehead while his fatigued fingers card through your hair before coming to a standstill. In the production of quietude, sniffles, and unspoken devotion, your eyes flutter shut as you lean down to gently bond your forehead with his own as his exhaustion finally establishes itself in the form of light snoring.

“Another time,” you hum assuredly.

#star wars #The Bad Batch #Crosshair #Crosshair X Reader #okay but I love the nickname ‘Verd’#my writing #it’s all disorderly organization #but we’re getting there folks #just bear with me #please trust the process #or don’t #I don’t even trust it myself aha #it’s a Lil thing

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dearest-bucky · 4 years

Text

Ask to be unbroken (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: What does it take to break down the walls of a scared, broken heart?

Words: 5.1K

Warnings: Sadness, emotionally traumatized reader, crying, fluffy ending of course!

A/n: I feel this fic on a personal level, considering this reader is loosely based on myself, so I really hope you guys will like it. Feedback is greatly appreciated! x

Originally posted: May 16, 2020

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Out of everything she could have imagined him ask, he went and asked her out on a date. Why would he do that anyway? Why would he want to go out with her? It’s not like she is the most beautiful girl in New York. Hell, she probably isn’t the most beautiful girl inside the small bookstore she owned, crowded with people as he asked the question that literally rendered her speechless.

Her mouth was suddenly dry and despite the fact that she knew it would have probably taken him a great deal to work up the courage and ask her on a date, she had to refuse.

Fumbling with the pages of the book that was currently in her hands, eyes not daring to meet his, she finally managed to speak up enough for him to hear. “I’m sorry, Bucky I don’t think that’s a good idea.” And that’s all it took for him to apologize too, before moving up from the chair he was sitting, right opposite of her and left the bookstore without so much of another word.

It was just another work day at the bookstore, not too many people as there usually were, but enough to keep her on her feet all the time. The little bell that informed her of the door opening rang with it’s usual ring and her attention moved from the young student in front of her to the direction of the door, where a tall, handsome man just entered. She greeted him with a smile as she did all of the people who came in the bookstore, before returning her gaze to the aforementioned girl, continuing to help her with the literature she needed.

Most of the people had bought whatever books they needed and left, leaving inside the bookstore only her with a couple of costumers, an old woman that was sitting in one of the armchairs near the window, reading a novel in peace, and as she looked in his direction again, the handsome stranger that she had seen for the first time in her life and in her shop. She was sure she would have remembered his face if he’d come before. He was moving along the shelves, looking for nothing in particular as it seemed, until Y/n cleared her throat before speaking to him. “Hi there, do you need help with finding anything?” Her voice was sweet and polite, just like every other time she spoke to anyone.

The stranger turned his body slightly in her direction, his eyes - the bluest she’d ever seen in her life, she concluded - meeting her figure. “ I-um.. I was actually just looking.” He spoke, unsure. That was a little weird, she thought, before he spoke up again, this time giving his tone a little more force, trying to sound more sure in himself. “My friend said I need to catch up on literature and I don’t know… Anything that is worth reading?” He finished, trailing as the question left his lips.

“Well, anything you are interested in? What do you usually enjoy reading?”

“I’m not sure…” His eyes drifted towards the shelf of books again as he tried to focus on reading the titles in front of him.

She looked at him curiously, then moved her eyes to the books too, not wanting to seem like a creep staring him down. “Don’t worry, I will help you find something.” She stretched her hand out to pat him on the forearm as a sign on friendliness - she always tried to make people feel welcome and touching was like her way of showing she cared - but as soon as she did so, she noticed him stiffen and take a step back from her, so she quickly retreated her halfway up hand, mumbling out an apology. As he retreated from her, she could notice a flicker of silver shine from the little ridden up sleeve of his hoodie and her mind clicked in recognition.

He could only muster up a half smile and shook his head to let her know it was okay, and they both walked to the front of the shop, where the old lady was still present with her nose buried in the book she was holding in her old, a little shaky hands.

She moved calmly and carefully around the desk that served also as the cash registering place for all the buying and sells and opened a drawer under the said desk, holding two books, that looked, from their appearance older than she was. She straightened her blouse before turning to him again, a small smile resting on her lips despite the awkward situation just a couple of minutes ago.

“Here.” She said and offered the books to him, careful to not touch his hands as he took them from her. He inspected the books, reading their titles in a mumbled voice before looking up to her again, a small smile making its way on his own lips.

“How much are these?” He asked and she only shook her head before responding again.

“These are actually not for sale. They’re first editions and very valuable to me, but I’m willing to lend them to you so you can read them. If you like them you can come back and then buy something else.” She finished, her smile widening more as she spoke, but he only squinted his eyes in disbelief at her action. She was too trusting for her own good, he thought and he couldn’t help the question from slipping past his lips.

“How are you so sure I’ll bring your books back?“Something flickered in her eyes, amusement, glee, he wasn’t sure what was it, only looking at her pointedly as he waited for her to respond.

"Well, I’m no genius or whatever, but I wouldn’t suspect of Bucky Barnes as a book thief.” His eyes widened in shock, for a short second, before he took in a quick breath he didn’t know he was short of. She had recognized him. But that wasn’t the real important thing. She had recognized him and she wasn’t scared of him. A ghost of a smile formed on his lips in wonder.

After that day he had come back to the bookstore again and again. At first, his visits were sporadic and short, long enough only to exchange books with her and then leave, but after the first two months of that he started to visit more often, until after three months, he would stop everyday at the bookstore. He’d spend most of his time there, the small bell informing of his arrival early in the morning, only a half hour after she opened, two cups of coffee in one hand and a paper bag of pastries in the other, their usual breakfast. He’d usually talk with Y/n and help her organize the books on shelves, or when there were too many costumers and she needed to be with them, he’d sit on the purple armchair opposite the old woman - he’d learned her name was Pearl - and read a book of his own.

Whenever he was on a mission, he’d make sure to let her know he couldn’t make it to the shop that day or however long it took and it was 8 months later and he was feeling himself fall a little more every day for her.

She had this calm presence that he almost craved, what with his crazy life as an Avenger, and she was always kind and sweet. And not only to him. She treated everyone she met with the same kindness, always careful when she spoke, making sure each person she interacted with was feeling comfortable in her presence. And he loved her for that. Up until now, their meetings were only limited in the small space of her bookstore and while it pleased Bucky to simply be in her company, he wanted to get to know her outside her shell of a shop too.

Usually, when she closed around 9 pm, he’d be with her to help her until the end, but they always separated their ways in front of the small pink door of the book store, him mounting his motorcycle and riding to the compound, and her walking the short distance of two blocks until her apartment.

That night though, Bucky didn’t want to be separated from her just yet, so he offered to walk her and after a small moment of hesitance, she slowly nodded her head. “I can come back for my bike later.” He said as they made their way in the direction of her apartment.

They were walking slowly beside each other, the sounds of New York City never dying as they tried to hold a conversation. Despite having known him for almost a year now, she still didn’t dare be too intrusive, knowing how he struggled with almost everything after all that had happened to him. And she didn’t blame him at all for that, she could never. She respected him too much for that.

“We have a mission tomorrow.” He said as they walked, kind of out of the blue, considering they had been talking about the drinking habits of Hemingway just a moment ago before they’d fallen in a comfortable silence.

“Oh.” It was the only thing that left her lips. She knew his job as an Avenger was demanding, keeping him away on missions more often than not, but she couldn’t say anything about it. She could only worry in silence.

“Yeah, um, it will probably last a week or two. Depends on how helpful Sam is in this one.” He tried to joke, noticing how she had visibly stiffened a little when he turned his head on the side to look at her. But she didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. It was as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

Voices shouting, nearing them with each passing second could be heard and Bucky turned to the direction of the noises to assess the situation, his body working on auto pilot, looking around for possible threats. All he was met though were the loud, screeching voice of a woman and the grunts and yells of a man following behind her. They seemed like just another couple fighting so he let them be, not one to meddle in other people’s business as long as they didn’t hurt anybody. People were looking at them intently, eager to follow the drama unfolding before them, but he simply shook his head at the sight and turned to look again at Y/n, only to not find her beside him where she was a moment ago. He was so confused for a second, until he saw her in front of him, walking alone, trying to get away from all the yelling and cursing.

With a few quick strides he was able to catch up with her, his right hand taking a light hold of her wrist, stopping her dead on her tracks. “Y/n?” He turned her to look at him, confused by her behavior. “What happened?”

She didn’t speak right away, only picked up her head to slowly meet his eyes, her own glazed with unshed tears and his confusion turned to worry, he was quick to place a hand on her cheek and caress the soft skin of her face. “Hey, are you okay?” His voice was small and cautious, as if he was scared she’d explode like a bomb if he weren’t extra delicate with her. She only nodded her head and took a step back, his hand falling down from her face while she did so.

“Y-yeah.” She stammered out. “I’m okay, I just need to go home.” As soon as she finished her sentence she turned to walk again, confusing Bucky even more but he didn’t let her go away, following behind her and walking beside her until they arrived in front of a tall building and she stopped. The remainder of the way they had walked in silence, so when she turned to him, looking a little more put together than 10 minutes ago, he let out a small sigh of relief.

“This is me.” She spoke up and he could only offer her a small smile in return, not really knowing what else to say. She didn’t let him too much time to think though, as she spoke again. “Thanks for walking me. Good night Bucky.” Her voice was smaller than usual, as if she was scared of him and he couldn’t understand what happened that caused her change in demeanor, but he wasn’t about to let her go like that. He carefully wrapped his hand around her wrist again, just like he did before.

“I’ll text you when I’m away, okay?” He said to her, a hopeful glint in his eyes despite the timid tone of his voice as he said those words.

“Okay.” She replied, just a simple word before turning to walk towards the entrance of the building.

“Good night Y/n.” He spoke behind her, loud enough for her to hear despite the distance between them as she walked. She only turned her head back to offer him a small smile, before disappearing inside the building. That was all he needed anyway.

True to his word, Bucky had texted her as much as he could during the entire time he was away on his mission. Despite the slightly awkward way they parted the other night, he texted her as if nothing had happened, complaining about something Sam did, as usual, asking about her day, her work, the shop, Pearl, chatting the days away until he’d come back.

It was more than two weeks later that he did come back. 18 days to be exact, but who was counting? Certainly not Y/n. Despite the constant texts they exchanged, she missed not having him there with her at the bookstore. She missed seeing him reading in silence opposite to Pearl, stealing glances her way that he’d thought she didn’t notice while she was talking with other costumers. She missed the way his eyes wrinkled when he laughed at something Pearl said to him, or the way his brows pinched together in concentration when he focused on the pages of the books, the way his tongue poked out slightly, wetting his lips as he changed the pages. He had become a constant in her life, slowly but surely warming his way inside her heart.

When he first entered her shop she didn’t recognize him, but then after the dead giveaway that was his metal appendage she’d scolded herself for not identifying him sooner. She’s have saved herself the embarrassment and the awkwardness of that day. She still had managed to recover the situation rather nicely though.

Now as she sat close to Pearl, talking about no other than one Bucky Barnes, she couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety in her chest. She was starting to feel more than she should for him and it would be recommendable to stop before that went too far.

“I’m not saying that.” She tried to reason with the older woman who was without a doubt the most stubborn person on the planet. “I’m just saying that I’ve had enough of messed up relationships in my life I don’t need another one.”

Pearl scoffed in annoyance at her words. If there was someone she knew almost as well as she knew herself, that was Y/n. For almost five years now, she’d been a regular at the bookstore and getting to know the young woman, she’d concluded she was an amazing person who deserved only the very best of everything life could offer her. But she also had a lot of traumas from her past, relating mainly to the family she was raised in.

Her parents would fight a lot, her house never being a quiet and loving home, never a good enough place and environment to raise a child. Living in a war zone, as she usually called it, for the lack of a better word from her part, Y/n had swore she’d never become the same person as her parents were. When she was 18 and had just graduated high school, she’d left her hometown and moved to New York, alone, not knowing anyone in the city, but she’d made it, almost. 10 years later and she was a whole different person from the emotionally wounded girl she’d been when she had left her house, but no matter how much time had passed, the scars had left their marks. All over her soul.

“Listen to me sweetie.” Pearl started, determined to make her listen, and not only with her ears but also with her heart. “I know what you’re scared of, but you’re nothing like your parents. You’re a gentle soul and you’d never turn out to become like your mother and he is so kind and careful and his eyes shine so bright whenever he looks at you, it’s adorable.” She stopped for a moment to draw in a short breath and then with dreamy eyes, fixed her sight to Y/n, before speaking again. “Reminds me of my darling Rob.”

Y/n smiled at her last words, knowing Pearl’s story with her late husband Robert. It was one of her favorite love stories, but despite everything Pearl had told her, sharing her life with the younger woman in hopes to make her open up her mind and her heart to the possibilities of love, Y/n was still held prisoner of her childhood trauma. A miserable family makes for miserable kids. And miserable kids makes even more miserable adults.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in love, because she did, she just didn’t believe love was for her. A loving family wasn’t in the cards for her. It never was anyway. Not even when she was an innocent child, still unfamiliar with the heartbreak and pain. Her very soul had been broken by the two people who were supposed to never hurt her, but she guessed it was what it was.

She would reply to Pearl again, but she stopped when she heard the bell on the door alert her of people coming in the shop. She turned her head to look at the new company and was surprised to see Bucky, smiling sheepishly at her from where he was standing. She gave a look to Pearl, who was smirking from her seat and got up from her own chair and walked to him, him meeting her halfway.

She held her breath as she took him in, he looked just like the last time she’d seen him, if only more handsome. There was a faint bruise on his cheekbone and she winced as she moved her hand up to brush her fingers lightly on it. “Hi.” She finally managed to speak a little breathless, but he didn’t seem to notice, too lost in her eyes to pay attention to the tone of her voice.

A long minute passed before he broke off the trance he was in and finally managed to whisper back to her. “Hi, doll.”

She was about to say something else, anything really, wanting to ask him about the mission, despite the fact that he wouldn’t be able to tell her much, to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, if he had eaten anything, but she couldn’t bring herself to form the words as she stared in his ocean blue eyes. And just after another short moment, the bell of the shop rang again and more people entered, as if Bucky had brought them with him.

They had to move away from each other as people roamed around the place, and Bucky walked to Pearl to greet her with a light hug. She patted his cheek affectionately in return and Y/n swore she caught the hint of a blush creep up his cheeks at the older woman’s gesture, it was endearing. However she didn’t have time to stay and watch them as she was needed to help a kid no more than 12 years old find a book.

After some time, she was finally able to take a breath and sit down, seeing nobody needed her help for the moment, the people around roaming through the shelves and fending for themselves. She walked to the corner Bucky was sitting with Pearl, but the latter wasn’t there anymore. Y/n raised her eyebrow in question as she sat down to the chair she had been previously sitting.

“To the vendor outside.” He pointed outside the window, seeing a street vendor sell hot dogs and cotton candy. She could see Pearl talking to the men and she smiled at the sight, before turning her attention to Bucky.

“How are you? How was the mission?” She asked, sincerity and care evident in her voice.

“Too long.” Were his only words of reply and she only nodded at him. Too long to go without seeing your face everyday , he wanted to say but didn’t dare speak those words.

A long silence stretched between them, neither of them knowing what else to say. They had both missed each other so much but neither was about to admit that out loud. Too scared, too anxious to mess anything up.

After what felt like too long for his liking, Bucky finally managed to clear his throat, as if the very action would help him gain some courage to speak up. “I-um.. I was actually wondering…” He started to speak, so unsure in himself it made Y/n think of the first time they’d met and he’d spoken to her. “Well, I’ve been thinking while I was away, and I wanted to ask you something.” He finally managed to drawl out the words.

He knew there was no turning back after this, once the words left his mouth, things would change between them, but if he didn’t ask he’d drive himself crazy with the thoughts of what ifs. So he steeled his nerves before speaking up again.

I like you Y/n,“ He started again and saw her eyes widen at his confession. "I really do like you, and I was hoping we could go out sometimes, you know…” He trailed, unsure of how to finish, but she didn’t speak so he had to fill the quietness somehow, too nervous to bare the sound of silence. “So, will you go on a date with me?”

He was staring at her, hoping to hell that she said something before he lost his nerve and broke down in front of her. Hopeful eyes were staring up at her own confused, scared? ones and he couldn’t help the panic that rose in his chest, already knowing what her answer would be.

“I’m sorry, Bucky I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her voice felt distant as she spoke the words and he couldn’t stand to be in her presence anymore, too ashamed to even look in her eyes now. He nodded his head - not asking for another explanation, he got his answer - and walked out of the book store without another glance back.

He felt foolish. He had ruined everything because he’d caught feelings for her. He had wanted to tell her he loved her, but he was glad he went for ‘like’ instead, otherwise it would’ve been twice as embarrassing. It was enough that he had killed himself for more than two weeks trying to muster up the courage and let her know how he felt. Now of course she thought it wouldn’t be a good idea to date him. Who in their right mind would want to date him anyway? He knew all too well what was wrong with him, but it didn’t mean her rejection hurt any less because of that.

He almost crashed into Pearl as she was walking back to the bookstore and with a quick apologize to her, he practically ran to his bike, wanting nothing more than to get away from there.

Y/n was inside the shop, face hidden in her hands when Pearl re-entered, confusion written on her features. “What happened?” She asked, sounding almost alarmed, and only then did Y/n pick up her head to look at the older woman, tears streaming down her cheeks rapidly.

Pearl walked to her and placed the food she’d bought on the small table before placing both her hands on Y/n’s shoulder and that was all it took for the girl to hug her tightly, sobbing in her chest like a small child, afraid and hurt.

“Shh.. It’s okay dove.” She reassured, voice calm and sweet as she patted her back softly. If the other people inside the shop saw the entire scene unfold in front of them, they didn’t dare stare for too long, each minding their own business, focused on different books on their hands.

“I think I messed up.” She said in between sobs, loud enough for Pearl to hear.

“What happened?”

“He asked me on a date and I rejected him.” She explained shortly, the older woman urging her to calm her breathing pattern, to stop the heavy sobs and crying. Eventually she did and wiped her face with the back of her hands, releasing her grip on Pearl and moving to sit on the chair next to hers.

“It’s okay.. Everything will be okay.” The woman kept repeating until it became some sort of a mantra to both of them.

It had been nearly a week since the day he’d asked her out and she said no, and ever since that day, he never came back to the bookstore again, never texted her or called her. Y/n could understand his reasoning. He had every right to cut her off, after the way she’d let him down without so much as an explanation. Not that she owed anyone any explanation for simply saying no, but this was Bucky she was talking about. He deserved anything she could give him and then some more. But she’d been scared, and honestly she still was. The emotional trauma she’d experienced from her parents relationship was still scarring her, but she wanted to put an end to it. She wanted to break free from that. She wanted to be able to love Bucky and have him love her in return and be happy with him. It could happen, couldn’t it?

She had tried to pull herself together and text him or call him and ask to see him again, but every time she picked up her phone to do so, she’d lose the nerve and throw it carelessly away.

After the long day she had, leaving her exhausted not only physically but also emotionally, she finally managed to wrap things up for the day, ready to close the shop and call it a day. Outside the rain was pouring down like crazy, it wasn’t even normal considering it was almost the end of spring and she was wondering how’d she get home in this weather without an umbrella. It wasn’t raining in the morning when she had left her apartment anyway.

She was placing the large notebook where she kept her records of the shop in the drawer under her desk, ready to take off when the too familiar ring of the bell was heard and without looking up, she answered in auto pilot, voice polite as always, but a hint of tiredness was evident in it. “Sorry, I’m closing up now. You could come back tomorrow.”

She picked her head up to look at the new presence in the shop and when her eyes met his figure her breath hitched behind her throat. Bucky. There he was, sopping wet, droplets of rain dripping from his hair and his clothes to the floor, making a puddle around him. He carefully pulled out a book from inside his jacket and walked towards Y/n, placing the book on her desk.

“I just came to return this. I’m gonna leave now.” His voice was thick with emotion, as if he was trying to hold back tears or something and Y/n couldn’t help but feel guilty for that. It’d been her fault that he seemed so sad, so… miserable.

Yeah, miserable she thought. Miserable people only make other miserable people. But as she saw him turn around to leave, just like he had the last time she’d seen him, she decided right then and there that she was done being a miserable person. She was done being scared, she was done closing her heart off, done running away from her feelings.

“Bucky…” it escaped her lips almost in a hurry, afraid if she lost another second he’d leave again, but he heard her and he turned around instantly, as if he had waited for her to call him. She walked around her desk and towards him, her steps slow but sure as she closed the distance between them both. He could only stare at her in disbelief as she neared him, too scared to move as if she’d disappear if he did anything uncalculated.

Without so much as another word, she placed both of her hands on his wet cheeks and hesitantly placed her lips on his. She kissed him sweetly, but she broke the contact way too soon, seeing he hadn’t returned the kiss at all.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just…” She let go of his face, trying to take a step back but he didn’t let her, his hands finding her waist and keeping her still there. He kept looking at her, waiting for her to say something else, his hands squeezing her waist in a silent encouragement for her to speak again, so she did. “Ask me again, please?” Her voice was small as she said those words but Bucky didn’t miss it, a ghost of a smile creeping up his lips.

He waited a bit before parting his lips to form the words. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she couldn’t suppress the smile that bloomed on her own lips upon hearing his voice. “Yes Bucky, I would love to.” She replied sweetly with the words she should have said the first time he asked her. His smile widened at her response and this time he was the one to lock their lips in a kiss, hesitant at first, then confident but always sweet and gentle.

As Bucky kissed her lips, she could feel her walls crumbling down with loud thuds and echoes inside her soul, but she could tell she was safe with him. She had a long way to go before she could be 100% free of every insecurity and past pain, but being in his arms, there was no doubt she’d ever be broken again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

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mysteira6 · 4 years

Text

FukaFlower - Snuggles in the Rain

Summary:

Rainy days are the best for them. Because that means that they can snuggle in their bed.

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Note: I need to make fluffier one-shots with these two!! I love them when they sing together!! Especially for songs like Suki Kirai!!

Take note: in this (relatively short) one shot, Fukase and Flower are both 19 and are already a couple~ <3

Bullying is also mentioned (though not emphasized on). Also, cyborg Fukase, let’s go~~

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He was awoken by the sound of rain pattering on the roof.

It was a chilly Saturday morning, the room feeling particularly colder due to the moisture seeping through the windows and entering their room. Fukase could feel a chill creeping up the right side of his body, forming a few goosebumps under his night clothes as he slowly sat up in bed. He turned his gaze to the windowsill of the bedroom, the spectacle of the morning sky littered with light grey clouds greeting him. A soft, soothing melody of rain drops echoed through the room. It sounded like a light rain for now, but who was to say that it wasn’t going to get heavier later?

He secretly wished that it did. Rainy days were the best…

“Mmrph…”

A quiet murmur coming from the figure on his right snapped him out of his thoughts, cueing him to turn his attention to the still-sleeping girl who was lying next to him, some strands of her short white hair splayed across her face. His heart warmed at the sight of her as she snoozed, his body lying back down as he propped a hand on the bed to support his head. How in the world could anyone look so cute and so beautiful at the same time?

Only she would, he internally decided, as his left, cybernetic hand subconsciously reached out for her hair, his fingers combing through it as he let out a sigh of relief. For a long time, he didn’t like how he looked like a cyborg, an absolute oddball in the sea of Loids that mostly consisted of normal boys and girls. Sure, you have your occasional special ones, such as Lapis and Merli being fairies, Oliver being based on Frankenstein’s monster and Hio being a vampire, but him? A boy who looked more scary and intimidating than any other Loid that ever existed because the left side of his face looked like a mess?

He could recall the day that he arrived in the Vocaloid Office, with everyone staring at him and murmuring amongst themselves about his appearance. He didn’t need to take off his headset to hear them discussing about what happened to the left side of his face, or about his left hand, or-

“Mmmmrph--”

Again, his attention was brought back to the girl next to him, her hands shuffling about as her closed eyelids shriveled slightly. A sign that she was about to wake up, he noted with a smile, his hand continuing to brush through her hair regardless of the fact that she was about to awaken.

He really liked combing his fingers through her hair. Mostly due to the fact that she was slowly starting to grow it out again after they fell in love. When he first saw her, she had her snow-white hair in a tomboyish cut that greatly resembled a boy, along with a few lower hairs and a single strand being dyed black. As he learned from her later (and after he had caught the sight of her old pictures that featured her with longer, wilder hair), the reason why she decided to change her hairstyle so much was because of how she had been bullied in the past, how people had picked on her because she looked so feminine even though her voice was androgynous. In her attempt to prove them wrong, she trimmed her hair drastically and changed her whole look so that she could accept herself as a tomboy.

But, as Fukase had heard from her when she confessed her fears to him a while ago, the attempt backfired. And instead of accepting herself, she ended up hating herself even more for succumbing to what the bullies wanted from her. She was a girl, after all, a girl who liked cute things such as cats and sweets. And to think that she tried to cut off her interests like that just because she wanted to prove some jerk’s opinion about her to be true… The teenage girl couldn’t truly love herself as a result of the destructive cycle that she placed herself in.

As Fukase recalled the memory of the past, he watched as the sleeping Loid finally opened her eyes, the violet orbs in them shimmering brightly, even though the sky was barely allowing any sunlight to peek into their room. The sight of her tired face accompanied by their dazzling eyes caught Fukase off-guard, and his left hand quickly stopped as he gave her a warm smile. “Good morning, Hana-chan~” He cooed.

“Morning,” She mumbled back sleepily, her voice surprisingly softer than usual. Perhaps she hadn’t woken up yet.

He chuckled at her drowsiness. “Did I wake you up?” He inquired as he retracted his cybernetic hand from its hovering position above her head, instead guiding it back towards his right elbow perched on the bed. Flower squirmed a little under the covers, her hands attempting to pull them up to her chin. “Mm… You were playing with my hair again, weren’t you?” The girl murmured softly as she closed her eyes again, likely on a pursuit of going back to sleep.

The redhead huffed internally; he wanted to talk to her! Not for her to fall back asleep…

Fukase hastily raised his hand back to her hair, this time ruffling through it in an attempt to annoy her awake. His attempt proved to be successful, as Flower soon opened her eyes again, narrowing them at the persistent boy. “Fukase, lemme sleep…” She complained, trying to duck her head deeper into the covers to prevent him from bothering her.

He grinned cheekily. “Can’t help it, Petals,” He shrugged innocently, despite the otherwise pesky act he was committing. “I just like combing my fingers through your soft hair~”

“My hair’s soft?” A quiet puff came from her mouth as she added. “No way, I’m pretty sure that your hair is fluffier than mine is,”

“Not you too…” Fukase sighed as he shook his head, though he was still smiling. Just the other day, everyone in their friend circle had pointed out how bouncy his crimson hair was, with some of them even telling Flower of how jealous they were that the redhead was her boyfriend. Though she was quick to nod politely at them , the shy girl was secretly beaming inside, her mind floating back to the times when she buried her fingers into his smooth, crimson curls and mused at how soft they were.

“Yes, your hair is very soft, Mr Mad Hatter,” Flower’s whispery voice grew louder as she sleepily placed a palm against his hand, a flawed venture to halt him from waking her up. “Now stop playing with my hair and lemme sleep,”

The impatient tone in her voice was hard for Fukase to miss, however, he only smirked at the sound of it. “How about no?” He insisted as his fingers continued combing through her hair.

“Fukase…”

“I’ll stop once you wake up, Petals,”

“But it’s our off-day…”

“Still not stopping~”

After feeling him play with her hair for a little too long, Flower had had enough with the mischievous boy, her mind quickly devising a plan to get back at him. As soon as he was about to skim his fingers through her single black strand of hair, she mustered all of her strength into her right arm, raising it quickly to grab Fukase’s hand before he could continue annoying her. Her fingers coming in contact with the chill of his metallic skin startled her slightly, though it didn’t faze her too much to stop her from slowly opening her right eye to take a peek at his hanging jaw.

Seeing him look so surprised cued her to quietly giggle as she opened her second eye to shoot a confident look at him. “Well…” She mused softly, the sound of her low voice causing Fukase’s cheeks to grow hot. “If you’re not gonna let me sleep… I guess I’ll have to force you to, won’t I~?”

The boldness in her tone not only baffled the redhead, but he swore that his heart started pounding faster at the sound of it. Her violet eyes flashing with confidence had his own pupils shrinking a little; how in the WORLD could she switch into such an assertive demeanor so quickly? Was her morning drowsiness getting to her?

He couldn’t stop himself from stuttering. “W-what are you gonna d-do?”

Hearing no reply come from the female Loid intimidated him quickly and Fukase could barely move a muscle as she gradually rose from her lying position on the bed, her hand refusing to let go of his as she shifted her body to hover over Fukase, her longer locks of black drooping across her shoulders that were unconcealed by the shirt that she wore to sleep. It was one of HIS shirts, too, which meant that its shoulder length was a little bit wider than her own, allowing her shoulders to occasionally peek out and entice him.

As she stayed in that position, both of her hands by the sides of the male Loid’s head (while grabbing ahold of his hands, too) and her eyes trained on him, he could barely stop his cheeks from turning red, the accumulating heat soon spreading across his whole entire face. He wasn’t a stranger to her being this brave, but that definitely didn’t mean that he was used to it, either.

Before their staring contest could escalate any further, Flower dispelled the silence between them by burying her face into the male Loid’s chest, her whole figure lightly resting on top of his as she squeezed her hands in between the mattress and his waist to wrap him in a tight hug. The air that Fukase had been unconsciously holding onto left his lungs as soon as she started to press her ear against his body, feeling her own heart beating against his skin. Truly, to say that he was astonished was an understatement.

“Uh… Flower?” He asked. “What are you doing…?”

“Keeping you here, of course,” She simply replied, closing her eyes as a sweet smile graced her face. “You can’t leave the bed unless I get off of you. And there’s no way that I’m gonna let you go,”

The red-haired Loid found himself amused at his partner’s plan. “You’re gonna try to fall asleep on me?” He stifled a small chuckle.

He could feel her nod against his chest, reminding him of a memory from a long time ago when he first showed her how his body really looked like. How the nuts, bolts and strips of metal poking out of his face weren’t just for show but were real parts of him. They were all remnants of the accident that occured during his production, the malfunction that caused him, a Vocaloid, to look more like a robot than a human virtual singer.

But unlike everyone else who tended to avoid him and his ‘messed up’ face, Flower was the only one who seemed interested in him. Perhaps it was the fact that she, a kuudere, could relate with him about being isolated from all the other Loids that ended up drawing them closer together.

Fukase sighed in content, soon wrapping his own arms around the girl lying on top of him to return her hug. “You sure that you wanna sleep on me for the rest of the morning?” He joked, thinking that it must be uncomfortable for her to be lying on a cold surface of metal that was half of his body.

Instead, she shook her head. “I don’t mind it. At least I can hear your heart beating,”

“That’s sweet but…” After feeling a bit bad for annoying her this morning, Fukase was determined to at least make her feel comfortable while they snuggled together in bed. With that in mind, he gently turned his body to the right, causing the female Loid to land on the bed again while his right arm remained wrapped around her smaller figure. A wide but nurturing smile found its way to his lips as his left hand held tightly to her own. “I prefer holding you like this,” He began before winking at her in his usual, confident voice. “Do you mind~?”

Now it was Flower’s turn to get embarrassed as a light pink blush flourished on her cheeks, though she gradually broke into a lovely smile that got her partner falling in love with her all over again. “Sure,” She finally said in a whisper as she moved her body a little closer to him again, partaking in the warmth of his embrace.

Because in his arms, she was at home, protected.

And with her in his embrace, he was at peace, feeling loved.

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Outside, rain continued to fall from the sky, decorating the roof of their home with pinpricks of transparent water drops that dribbled down the tiles, the residual water flowing into the vertical pipes of their dorm to be discharged into drains.

But even as the rain poured, nothing could bother the sleeping couple as they snoozed through the morning of their day off.

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A/N: Writing about them makes me feel all fuzzy inside... I love them so much- QAQ

#fukaflower #flokase #vocaloid #fukase #vocaloid fukase #v flower #v4 flower #flower vocaloid #vflower #one shot #fanfiction #rain #snuggling in bed #playing with hair #cyborg fukase #sweetheart flower

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eryiss · 4 years

Text

Event: LGBTQA+ Month hosted by @ft-wwtdp

Ship: Fraxus (Freed Justine x Laxus Dreyar)

Prompts: Blame, Temporary, Queen, Air, Leaving

Verse: Victorian AU

Alternate Places To Read: Fanfiction, Archive of our Own. Event master list here.

Here’s my fifth group of one shots for the LGBTQA+ month. You can read rest in the master list linked above. This is set in the victorian era, and has some minor period typical values. Nothing graphic, but be wanred of suggestions of a less accepting time.

Day Twenty-One – Blame (And Thanks)

It was all that blasted Bickslows fault.

He had been the one who invited Laxus to his home for a night of drinking and cards. He had been the one who first left the house while alcohol burned in his blood. He was one the who had thought it would be hysterical if the two of them went to Magnolia's richer district to make a fuss while drunk. He had been the one to pick up the first stone and toss it down the street. Bickslow was to blame for all of that.

Unfortunately, Laxus had been the one to fall into someone's front garden. To crash into an ornamental plan pot and shatter the thing. To wake the resident.

The woman who owned the house was nothing short of ferocious, with startlingly pink hair and a broom brandished in her hand which she wielded as a weapon. She yelled into the night, threatening Laxus and claiming he was a vandal. It had been then when Laxus had recognised her, and she had recognised him. She was Porlyusica, Makarov's doctor, who knew him well. He couldn't just run from her like Bickslow had, meaning he had to deal with the consequences of his drunkenness.

That was why he was there at eight in the sodding morning, cleaning her pathway with a rag and a bucket of water.

It was humiliating. Laxus had always seen himself as a man among boys, both in stature and personality. He had worked from childhood to provide, earning his keep and making himself into a grandson to be proud of. And now he was on his knees, scrubbing a damn patio as some form of weird public revenge. Furthermore, he would be doing so for the foreseeable future. His supposed punishment was that he would do any chores the old witch wanted for the next month; something his own damn grandfather had suggested.

He was going to kill Bickslow when he next saw him. The bastard was probably without any form of punishment, despite being the instigator of it all. He'd get a black eye for his troubles when Laxus next saw him, he was without doubt of that.

But for now, he needed to grit his teeth and bare it.

As he scrubbed against the patio tiles, he grunted. He hadn't previously considered how difficult it would be to get dried bird droppings out of stone, but it was now becoming the only thing he could think of. He was too engrossed in his task to notice the sound of a carriage pulling to a stop behind him.

Only when a short cough could be heard from behind him was Laxus alerted to the presence of another man. He turned to see someone who was undoubtedly noble, if the creed of his clothing was telling. He stood tall and firm, with long green hair and an expression that was a mixture of amusement and elitism. The slight quirk in his eyebrow showed a small sense of superiority, and Laxus was conflicted.

This was both the type of man he wanted to punch, and to push against a wall and kiss.

Of course, he shook off the idea as soon as it came to him. His… urges were something that were nothing but trick of the mind. It was simply that he had never laid with a woman and the urges of being a man were getting too overwhelming, leading him to be rather desperate.

The lie wasn't convincing, not even to Laxus, but it was all he held onto. Because he couldn't desire men in the same way he was meant to desire women.

"Sorry, sir," He mumbled, standing up to move out of the man's way.

"I wasn't aware Miss Porlyusica hired a house boy," The man commented, voice smooth and calm.

"I ain't exactly a house boy, sir," Laxus corrected, wincing. Was the man high enough in nobility that he shouldn't have spoken.

"So you just enjoy cleaning old ladies' homes? Rather an off pastime, I'd insist on getting paid if I were you," The man chuckled, seemingly amused.

"Well, erm, y'see I caused a bit of damage to her property and doing jobs around the house for her is how she's making me pay her back. I ain't got enough actual money to fix what was broken so, this was what she wanted," Laxus explained.

He didn't know why he was speaking. This man, whomever he was, could easily have walked past him, tutted at him and looked at him like he was a piece of dirt. Porlyusica had many visitors already that had done the same, so perhaps it was the fact that this lord seemed willing to say anything that made Laxus suddenly willing to speak. Or perhaps it was the way his face took on a slightly arrogant, but not entirely unkind expression when he grinned.

But it wasn't that. It couldn't be that. Laxus had made a damn good effort to put thoughts of the sort to the back of his mind. Some lord with a slight slither of generosity wouldn't change that.

"And how long will this agreement take place, might I ask?"

"Till the end of the month, sir," Laxus continued.

"Then we'll be seeing rather a lot of each other, I suppose," The man mused aloud. "I pick up my fathers medicine each day, you see. Rather a pain, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," Laxus looked down. "About your pa, I mean."

"Don't be, he could be dying today, and I doubt I'd grieve," The lord said bluntly, and Laxus furrowed his eyebrows. "He's a horrid old man, set in his ways. The only reason I'm here rather than a servant is because he's trying to prove a point of some kind. He wishes to scare me away from independence by making me do a singular errand each day. To keep me in his pocket, I assume."

Laxus didn't say anything at that. He had never been privy to men of a higher statue, other than walking past them in the street, and didn't know if such honest evaluations of one's father and his intentions were normal for rich men.

"It won't work, of course. I'll be out of his house the moment I can," The man continued. "But he seems insistent. You take a man to bed from time to time and suddenly your father acts as though you're his property. Its laughable."

Laxus averted his eyes at that, now truly speechless. Take a man to bed? There was no double meaning that was any more innocent than what it seemed, and the man had said it so carelessly. Some men would call the authorities immediately if they heard that, others would deem the lord a target for a beating. Was the man so confident of himself that he cared not about the repercussions. Maybe having enough money gave him such confidence.

Laxus wondered what it would be like to be so fearless about that. He wondered what it would be like living in privilege. He wondered why the man had let his preferences in partners known to Laxus of all people.

"I should get inside. The old woman can be testy when it comes to timekeeping," The man smiled. "Good day."

"G'day sir," Laxus nodded.

"Oh please, call me Freed," The man, Freed, requested. "I greatly look forward to seeing more of you, sir."

He tipped his hat, and walked into the building. Laxus looked on at him with wide eyes, surely he hadn't just been the recipient of flirting. Not so brazenly, and with a man below his station. That was impossible.

But, despite that, Laxus felt he should thank Bickslow, as well as blame him.

~~~

Day Twenty-Two – Temporary (For Now)

The situation wasn't meant to last this long.

Freed's house had been positioned awkwardly beside the Thames river, and because of that was occasionally at risk of flooding. It hadnt been a problem until the previous springtime, where the rain was seemingly endless. The river banks had been breached, the streets had been flooded, and Freed's house had been damaged to the point where it was no longer liveable. Until it was rehabilitated, Freed had needed to find somewhere temporary to live.

That was where Laxus had come into play. He had inherited a house of his grandfather that had two separate bedrooms, one that had been unoccupied. He had offered Freed the spare room to rent for a short while until his own home was back to a liveable standard.

At least that was the story people had been told.

It was almost entirely true. Freed's house had been damaged beyond the point of it being possible for him to live there. Laxus did have a spare room which he wanted to rent out. The lie came in the fact that Freed, rather than using the spare room he was paying for, he rather occupied Laxus' own bed, alongside the man. That was the part of the arrangement that neither man wanted people to know.

The two mee had met just under a year prior, at a bar that catered mainly to men of their preferences. They had drunk together, talked together, and advanced their relationship to something more physical. Therefore the decision to have Freed move into Laxus' home was the logical decision to take.

It made enough sense as a story, that two platonic men would move in with one another. Freed was a journalist and Laxus a private investigator, so a friendship wasn't impossible. To everyone else, it seemed like one friend was helping out another.

And they were. Just with the added benefits of something akin to matrimony.

But lately, Laxus had heard that Freed's house had been getting closer to a liveable state. He knew that this was meant to be temporary, and that he shouldn't have gotten used to waking up with his lover wrapped around him, but he had. He had gotten used to it almost immediately, and he wasn't anywhere near ready to give it up.

"Freed," Laxus said as they ate their supper. "I've a suggestion to make."

"Of course," Freed nodded. "Go on."

"Well, I mean, you living here had been… well, I never expected something like this to happen. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for it to end. I was wondering what you would think if we considered the possibility of us staying here, the both of us."

"You wish for me to live with you permanently?" Freed asked.

Laxus nodded, feeling a little nauseous now he had spoken. He had never been in a relationship – men were his only interest, and it wasn't likely for him to find someone who shared that – so he had never been in a situation like this. Making this more of a permanent arrangement was something he wanted, but was it appropriate for him to ask his lover the same. Did Freed even see this as a relationship, or was it just a convenient way for him to get to bed.

That thought left a further sick feeling in his stomach. He had been told that men couldn't have relationships with other men, and perhaps that was true. Maybe Freed just wanted a warm bed with a willing man inside of it, not anything emotional.

"It's interesting you've mentioned that," Freed continued. "I did think about the same thing myself, though I hadnt said anything as I didn't want to intrude on your home."

"Honestly?" Laxus asked, hope now fluttering inside of him. "You'd wanna live here."

"If you'd have me, of course," Freed said, smiling softly.

The look on his face was a small thing, but it made Laxus feel utterly stupid for thinking that Freed wanted something without emotions. Because the two of them weren't just bedmates, they were something closer. They shared interests, had talks about their lives, and cared for each other deeply. Thinking otherwise had been a moment of madness.

"Of course I'd have you," Laxus grinned, heart beating fast in his chest. "I mean, I don't know the logistics of it. People might start askin' questions-"

"We could just say that you needed the money of an occupant, and I couldn't continue to maintain a household by myself, and this seemed like the obvious thing to do," Freed smiled, before admitting sheepishly. "I may have been thinking about this for a few weeks."

Laxus grinned further, looking around. The curtains for their kitchen – it was their kitchen now, not just his – had been drawn tightly meaning nobody would have any chance of looking inside them. He reached across the table, took Freed by the cravat, and pressed their lips together.

The kiss was intense and passionate as a kiss can be when both men were reaching over a table, and Laxus smiled throughout all of it. After realising his preferences for men as a teenager, he had resigned himself for either a life alone or with a woman he couldn't truly love in the way he wanted. He had thought he would be a lonely man, without real connections, but that wasn't going to happen.

Because he had a man he loved, a man who loved him. And that man was going to live with him; this would be the house he shared with him. They were going to be as close to married as two man could get, and the feeling set fireworks inside of his stomach. As did the kiss. Freed's kisses always had such an effect on him.

"So," Freed chuckled. "If that's an indication of the future, I suppose living with you has its perks."

"Oh," Laxus grinned, heart thudding. "You have no damned idea."

~~~

Day Twenty-Three – Queen (And Her Staff)

For perhaps the first time in his career, Laxus was scared of his job.

Being head butler for the Justine Estate was a relatively simple job. His main duty was to make sure the rest of the staff were performing their jobs as well as they could, while also maintaining the luxury of a manor house as best he could. He awoke the family at their chosen times, delivered them their food, and did what was asked of him. It was a damn simple job, helped by the fact the family seemed lacking the complete arrogance and eccentricities of their ilk.

Other than the oldest son. But he was Laxus' lover, so the butler could look past that.

But today was different. Because, despite being a modest family in their actions, they were influential members of Fiore. They owned vast amounts of lands, and the father of the family was in line to be king. Admittedly, it was unlikely, given twenty-seven people needed to die for that to happen, but it did mean he was important.

And that level of importance had led to them getting a royal visit. The Queen was soon to visit for an afternoon, and that apparently required a large amount of planning. Today, the Queen's personal staff were coming to make sure the house was good enough for her majesty to visit, and that the staff were trained well enough. Given his position as the head butler of the household, if anything was seen as lacking, it was to be his fault.

He was less than pleased about that.

Despite his nerves, he went about his regular day. He woke the family up – ignoring the smirk that damned intolerable Freed gave him when Laxus discovered he had slept without his nightshirt; he was still blushing as he left the room – and then walked to the kitchen to specify the family's desires for breakfast that day. Overall, it was going well.

Until of course the royal representatives came. It was an overly exaggerated affair, with each member of the family and all of the staff required to greet them. Even the coach they arrived on seemed to pronounce how superior they felt.

After introductions, they were to be shown a tour of the house. Laxus had been forced to give it.

There was a lot of what Laxus considered to bit nit-picking. Anything so much as a slight crease in the sheets of a bed was exaggerated to the point where Laxus felt he was being accused of treason. The main perpetrator of the unneeded criticism was the castle's head butler: Rufus Lore. A pretentious and arrogant man with long blonde hair, a sneering expression, and a face that Laxus could only describe as incredibly punchable.

But all he could do was stand there and allow himself to be chastised, as he was representing the Justine household. He cared greatly for his employers, and knew that this visit needed to go well. So he would just take the criticism on board, and absently fantasise about drowning the smug bastard in the lake.

He had fully planned to keep himself calm, had the events of the kitchen not happened.

Part way through explaining what they could cook for her royal highness's visit, one of the kitchen staff had dropped an empty plate. It was Rufus' fault, given that he was standing right in front of the oven – which was being used – and the staff had to attempt to work around him as he out-right refused to move away.

"That level of incompetence wouldn't be allowed if you were part of our staff," Rufus had commented, and Laxus already gritted his teeth at that. "I expect that's the same here."

He wanted them to fire someone who had been working at the house for over twenty years, all because he felt himself too important to move out of the way and let them do their job. That was apparently the breaking point for Laxus.

"You ain't exactly making it easy for them to do anything, are ya?" He muttered, losing the charming tone he normally spoke to while working. The kitchen staff looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?" Rufus turned to Laxus with an expression that one might wear if someone had called their mother an unsuccessful trollop. "I don't know who you think you are, but I can assure you that any form of disrespect aimed towards any member of the royal party is seen as a great offence to everyone in the country. Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but as a representative of the royal family, I should be shown the same respect that you would show the Queen herself."

He continued to shout, and Laxus found himself clenching his fist by his side. This idiot had to have a damned high opinion of himself if he thought he deserved the same respect as actual royalty.

Unbeknownst to Laxus nor the man who chastised him, Freed Justine had walked into the kitchen. He had heard the yelling from outside the door – particularly the part where his staff had been insulted as laughably incompetent – and that had been enough to get his interest. Because he cared for his staff, and refused to allow them to be demeaned in such a way.

When he saw Laxus, it was clear his lover was losing patience. Freed knew he needed to get involved quickly, as Laxus could lose his job if he acted out against the royal visitor. Luckily, Freed had no such repercussions to contend with.

"Good sir," He said, his sharp authoritative tone cutting through Rufus' yelling. The room looked at him. "Please explain to me why you are yelling at my head butler."

"He claimed-"

"Don't use that tone with me," Freed demanded, voice poisonous. "And you are to refer to be as 'sir' at the very least."

"Well sir," Rufus continued, and Freed knew his irritation was making his manners slip even now. That was what Freed wanted. "Your supposed-"

"Did I say I was finished," Freed demanded walking towards Rufus with a glare. "I am a lord of this state and you will treat me thusly. Just as you may think my staff are a reflection of this household, you are a reflection of her royal highness and her family. And if this is the type of staff she keeps, then I greatly feel sorry for those close to her."

"How dare you speak of her highness in such a way-"

"And how dare you speak to my staff as you did. You are a guest in my home and as such you are expected to follow certain social rules. If you think you have the right to speak to my employees with such vitriol then you will find that you'll be out on your arse faster than you can blink."

Laxus, as well as everyone else in the kitchen, watched Freed with a slight amount of shock. The lord had often shown himself to be the most rebellious of the family, even if it wasn't obvious at first glance. But even still, lambasting a representative of the royal family was something big.

Rufus himself seemed shocked, and was apparently speechless at the fact that a man of Freed's position had said something as uncouth as arse. Laxus almost smiled at that, he'd heard Freed say worse.

"Now, you are going to continue your duties, good sir," Freed spat the title out like an insult. "And you'll be damn respectable to my staff. And if even a single one of them has anything bad to say of you, I will relay it to her majesty herself and see what her opinions of it are. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Rufus muttered, crestfallen and embarrassed. "Sir."

"Good," Freed nodded. "Mirajane, could you show Mr Lore to the dining room, please. I need to speak with Mr Dreyar."

Mirajane nodded and showed Rufus out of the door. Once he was gone, the room deflated and Freed walked to Laxus. He placed a hand softly on Laxus' cheek in a comforting and calming way, and Laxus smiled softly. Most of the staff knew of their relationship, so there was no need for subtlety.

"Take some time to calm down," Freed said softly. "If you wish to spend some time down here to recover, I'll explain to father. That goes for the rest of you, too."

"Thank you sir," Laxus nodded, and Freed removed his hand from his cheek. "And thanks, for sticking up for me."

"What good am I if I can't do that," Freed smiled. "I should go and tell father about what happened, so he's prepared. Good day to you all. And I'm sure I'll see you later, Mr Dreyar."

Laxus grinned as Freed left. It was nice to know that Freed was willing to fight his corner, and Laxus found himself smiling for the rest of the day.

~~~

Day Twenty-Four – Air (Of a Late Evening)

The coolness of the evening air hitting his face was a welcome release, and Laxus leant against the metal railing of the balcony. The room that he had just been in, despite its seemingly endless size, had felt stuffy and suffocating. It was a lot nicer out here in the garden, with a gentle wind hitting his face and no annoying women surrounding him.

To think that one of those women was to be his wife.

Of course nobody would say it, but that was what this whole party was for. Makarov had a large amount of land and, recently, it had been discovered that the land contains a large amount of copper. Nearly every mining company in the local area wanted to buy the land for the mining rights, and the party had been organised for the prospective buyers to meet the Dreyar's in a social situation. Essentially, every mining family had brought their daughters as some kind of bargaining chip, and one of them would be wed to Laxus to affirm the future relationship between their family and the Dreyar's.

Makarov had assured him that wasn't going to happen, but Laxus knew that Ivan had been the one to organise this party. And while Makarov wasn't going to marry off his grandson for business, Ivan would. Laxus just had to accept it. Even if the idea made him feel nauseous.

"Do you smoke?" A voice came from behind Laxus, making him turn around.

It was a man with long green hair, the representative of the Justine family; Freed Justine. He had escorted his sister – who might soon by Laxus' wife – and was the businessman for the family. He was a well put together man of a higher social status, and rather handsome too. He had a small cigar case outstretched, with one in his lips.

"Thanks," Laxus nodded, taking a cigar and a match.

"You looked rather miserable in there, I must say," The man chuckled, leaning against the railing alongside Laxus. "Not the typical reaction for a man with beautiful women fawning over him."

"They ain't exactly what I'm lookin' for in a partner," Laxus mumbled.

The blonde looked over the large land owned by his father, an expansive garden of beautiful grass and well-formed flower beds. He had been purposely vague about what he was looking for, as being honest about such things could often end up with one in trouble. No matter how beautiful a woman was, nor how thrilling their personality may be, that wouldn't be what Laxus was looking for. Certainly not the type of women that had come to this party.

Ironically, the only person who had piqued his interest was now standing beside him.

"I thought as much," The man smiled, and Laxus felt frozen under his gaze. "This must be rather horrid for you, then. If you don't have any interest in these women."

"I can deal with it," Laxus muttered.

"You probably can. It's a shame that you have to, though," Freed had a charming look on his face as he gazed over Laxus. "Rather a waste, you could say."

Laxus shot his eyes forward, reddening slightly and feeling almost pinned by the charming smile of the gentleman beside him. Freed really was a handsome man, and there was a slight air of contained mischief behind his smile. Laxus didn't know how he would have reacted if he maintained eye contact with a man who could make such an expression.

"If it eases your troubles, it wouldn't be a necessity for you to marry my sister, if you were to go into business with my family," Freed continued, smiling.

"Why'd she come, then?"

"Your father seemed to think it was a requirement, and my father wished to cover all bases," Freed explained. "But in all honesty, all we need is an assurance that our relationship will be," Laxus felt Freed's arm rest softy against his. "Close."

"Oh," Laxus said, reddening further.

He was almost definitely misunderstanding what was happening. The charming smile and the piercing eyes were just the eyes of someone who knew to get what he wanted, and the light presence of the man's strong body against his own wasn't anything but an accident. There was no way that the man was flirting with him. Even if the eldest Justine son was known for being a rather eccentric and non-conforming man.

But maybe he was flirting. It wasn't completely impossible. The richer the man, the less fear he held about being prosecuted. Perhaps Mr Justine was so confident in himself that he was open about his… persuasion. Laxus just needed to see further.

Maybe to indulge himself, too. He deserved it, after the night he was having.

"How would you say we make sure our family's bond is close?" Laxus asked, avoiding the man's eyes.

"Many different ways. Anything from a well-crafted contract to keep us both in line, to something more…" He thought for a moment, and Laxus could feel the man's eyes on him. "Liberal."

"Liberal?" Laxus echoed. "Sounds interesting."

"I thought you'd say that," Freed chuckled. "Perhaps you and I should thrash it out at some time. If you're willing to, of course."

Laxus' eyes widened, there was no chance of the phrasing being accidental. Nobody referred to a business meeting as 'thrashing it out' without the double meaning of it being intentional. Apparently Laxus' suggestion that he would be interested in something liberal had meant that Freed no longer seemed to be subtle. Laxus was glad for the bracing wind that would cool his heating skin.

If he hadn't needed some air before, he did now.

"I'll do what I can," Laxus said, stumbling over his words slightly.

"I'm glad to hear it. I should leave you now, give you some time to think. I understand that you don't want to go into something this large without thinking," Freed patted Laxus' shoulder, and it sent shivers down his spine. "I should make it known that I don't mix business with pleasure."

Ridiculously, it felt like a punch to the gut. Had he been taken for a fool?

"Luckily," Freed continued, amusement on his face when he saw Laxus' reaction. "I don't have much to do with my family's business. So I expect I can focus on the pleasure. Good day, sir."

Freed walked back inside, and Laxus was left with no doubt as to what Freed wanted. Nor with what he wanted with Freed, if he was honest.

Thank god he had come out for air.

~~~

Day Twenty-Five – Leaving (For something Better)

Makarov was probably more emotional than he should have been.

The news his grandson would be moving out hadn't shocked him, but it didn't make it any less a big deal. He'd always lived with his grandson since the boy's mother had passed, and now almost twenty years after that had happened, he was going to lose the man. He scolded himself for thinking like that; the young man was only going to live at the other side of the town, it was hardly another country.

Laxus was currently tying down the rest of his items to a cart, which would be pulled to his new house shortly. Helping him move his items to the cart was Freed, the man who was to be his new landlord.

Well, that was what they told people.

Makarov knew better, though. He had seen the looks that they shared when they thought nobody else was looking. He had noticed how Laxus seemed to both brighten up and relax when Freed walked into a room. He had seen the shared laughter between them when they drunk together in the sitting room. Most people would have thought they were friends, but Makarov knew his grandson better. He knew the effect that Freed had on him.

It had taken some time for Makarov to come to terms with his grandson's fondness for men. Or, just Freed, maybe. He hadn't spoken about it, hadn't gotten a clue on how he could bring it up to Laxus that he knew. But he was happy for his grandson, life was hard enough already; it was nice to share it with someone.

Freed was a good man, from what Makarov could tell. He worked hard for his money, but was caring and kind to Laxus when he could be. The type of man who would care for Laxus, but also challenge him. Perfect, so Makarov thought.

Even knowing that Laxus was going to be happy, it made Makarov a little sad.

"Could I have a talk with you Laxus," Makarov asked, getting the two men to look at him. "In the kitchen, just before you leave."

"Sure," Laxus nodded, before glancing to Freed. "Will it take a long time. You might wanna go on ahead if it does. Don't exactly wanna travel through town through the night with all of this in a cart."

"Oh it won't take long," Makarov waved the idea off. "Just a cup of tea."

Laxus nodded, and the two men walked into the kitchen. The house was small and cramped, smaller than the one Laxus would be moving to, and Makarov smiled a little at the idea. It was nice that his grandson was going to be moving up in the world, even if only by a slight amount.

The story that Laxus and Freed had told people was that Laxus had gotten a new job beside the docks, which was true. The docks were on the other side of town, and Freed's home was right next to it. Freed needed a lodger to make sure he could keep up his payments on the house, the two of them were friends, and Laxus needed to move out of his childhood home eventually. It all made sense, and most of it was true. But, Laxus wouldn't be paying for his own bed, but rather for more convenient access to Freed's.

Makarov couldn't fault that. If he could have moved in with the woman that became his wife before they wed, he would have done so.

"I just want to say," Makarov began, sitting at the kitchen table. "That I really am proud of you, brat. You've grown up to be a good man, and you'll be missed."

"Oh," Laxus mumbled. He always had been awkward around compliments. "Thank you."

"One day, you'll learn to accept a good word said about you," Makarov shook his head. "But what I mean is, I do truly care for you. More than you might think. And I know that you have to move on, but know that you'll always have a seat at the table and a bed upstairs, if you need it," Makarov thought for a moment, before continuing. "Nothing will change that."

"Thanks, Gramps."

Laxus probably hadnt picked up on the meaning, and why would he. For all he and Freed were concerned, nobody knew of the nature of their relationship. Why would he read into Makarov's words and see that he was being invited to come out with his relationship, were he ready.

"But I'm sure that you'll be fine, you're an adult after all," Makarov continued, smiling softly. "From what I've seen, you and Freed get on quite well. I'm sure being his lodger will be good for you both."

Laxus reddened ever so slightly. "I'm looking forward to it," He confessed, before realising he might have said something too obvious. "Won't have to hear you waking up and taking a piss every morning at three."

"I suppose not," Makarov laughed, and they both shared a grin.

Makarov looked at his grandson, and suddenly felt a rush of pride flow through him. He'd turned out damn well, considering everything that the world seemed to throw at him. And now he was moving to live with his lover, a man just as good as he was, and there was nothing, but pride Makarov could feel for that.

Before he could stop himself, the old man reached up and wrapped his arms around Laxus in a sharp hug. He blinked away the tears that came with the sudden rush of emotions, and patted his grandson on the back.

"You make sure he's good to you," He whispered. "You don't take any shit from him, and make sure he treats you well you understand?"

Laxus looked shocked at the man, before smiling softly. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good."

Makarov smiled, patted Laxus on the back and let him go. He'd raised a good man.

#ftlgbtpride2020 #fraxus #freed justine #Laxus Dreyar #freed x laxus #fanfic #fairy tail #writing #one shot #event

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melancholydreadfuldream · 5 years

Text

Alternative Dream Part Two

Fandom: Doctor Who

Summary: Doctor Who AU where the Doctor as a war Doctor use the moment and managed to defeat the Daleks without destroying Gallifrey. He is seen as a war hero and is given new regeneration as reward. He was given a place in the government. He was never able to travel again so he never met Rose Tyler or any of his companion. He remained on Gallifrey and has regenerated into a version of Thirteenth Doctor where she continue to work for glory of Gallifrey. Until she met you, a time sensitive she was assigned to capture at any cost.

Pairing: Thirteenth Doctor x Reader, Yaz x Reader and Jack Harkness x Reader

Warning: angst, mention of use of violence, forced relationship, ooc.

A/N: I’m bullshitting my way with this particular fanfiction. So Pardon the mess.

A/N2: Part 2 is edited. Please don’t forget to leave a like and comment if you like this. Thanks.

The song 'which way you going, Billy' played on a tape recorder and I hummed and moved my body along with the song.

Jack stood by the pillar, watching me dance, with a grin in his face. "You are in a good mood."

I stopped moving my body immediately, looking like a deer in the headlights.

The expression on my face made Jack laughed as I glared at him.

I turned to stop the song but he stopped me and pulled me to dance with him. I decided to play along, after all, like he said, I'm in a good mood. My head space is clear right now and I'm feeling refreshed.

"You really are in good mood." Jack commented.

I didn't replied as I raised my eyebrows at him.

He grinned as he spin me around ungracefully because I almost fell but he caught me and we both share a laugh.

Jane suddenly coughed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." she said softly.

I pulled away from Jack hastily upon seeing Jane. I stopped the song. I quickly said, "I should go before Yaz realized i'm ditching my duty again..."

Jack look amused at the lies I told but didn't say anything. He watched me left before I heard him turned to Jane with a flirty manner. "How can I help you, Jane?"

I could feel Jane is staring at my retreat. I don't know why I can't bear to be around Jane.

&&&&

For some reason, I felt like Jane is very curious about me. She seemed to be showing up wherever I go. She even find out my secret hiding place for when I felt everything is too much for me. She seemed worried that I look a little pale. I told her I'm fine but she didn't believe me.

I was upset today because I saw something in my future, something that I have been fearing for a long time, a time jackass is coming for me. But I couldn't see the time lord's face in my vision which frustrated me greatly. How I am meant to be cautious if I have no idea the face of my enemy?

"Are you okay, (name)?" Jane asked.

"Just leave me alone."

"I don't think you should be alone right now."

"Why do you care? You don't even know me!" I yelled angrily.

"But I do want to get to know you." Jane answered solemnly.

"Why?" I asked as I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

"I don't know why. I think you are very interesting, (name)..."

I gulped at that. No one ever find me interesting, no one but my inner circle, the people who know that I am a time sensitive. Everyone else never bother me, which is what I prefer. I would like to remain invisible but this woman, Jane, why did she keep seeing me? Suddenly I'm afraid of Jane. What is her ulterior motive?

"...and very sad... I just would like to see you smile more." Jane said which make me speechless.

Is she flirting with me? or is she trying to play a concerned friend?

The alarm sounded loudly which startled both of us.

"What is that?"

"A trespasser is located somewhere." I said.

Jane left me to find the people in charge of security which would be Jack.

&&&&

I told Yaz and Clara about Jane today and they actually laughed at me.

"Someone got a crush..." Clara teased.

Do they meant me or Jane? I'm displeased with their teasing.

&&&&

I met Jane again when I was with Melody. Jane smiled at the both of us. I discreetly warned Melody to keep our secret.

Melody grinned as she nodded along with me with a secretive smile.

I observed how Jane interact with Melody and I felt an alarm ringing in my head. I frowned as I observe Jane some more. But I couldn't find anything suspicious about Jane. Yet I still can't shake this frightening feeling like I'm making a big mistake.

I left them to see Jack and Clara. I asked them to investigate Jane.

Clara teased me about my 'crush' on Jane and me wanting information for a date.

Jack looked surprised and grinned. "My girl is all grown up."

"Shut up both of you." I said in my firm tone which sober them immediately. "Jane is suspicious. I want to know more about her. I don't like her around Melody either. Just find out more about her. Make it happen, Jack."

Jack observed me carefully and then nodded when he saw how serious and afraid I am.

Clara observed the both of us. "I guess I will be keeping an eye on Jane then." She volunteered.

"Thank you. I hope I'm wrong about this." I said.

"But she is a human though." Jack said.

I shrugged. "wouldn't be the first a human betray us for the time jackass." I reminded them.

They both nodded grimly.

&&&&

Sarah Jane heard the conversation between (name), Jack and Rose about Jane. She has been suspicious about Jane for a while, not because she think Jane is evil but because she reminded her of the Doctor. The conversation she overheard made her decided to confront Jane to see if her hunch is correct.

Jane is busy doing the duty assigned to her by Donna. She is working with Ryan as a mechanic for the bunker. She is ranting at Ryan about the joy of mechanic.

Ryan is too polite to ask her to shut up.

Sarah Jane smiled. 'I should have realized sooner...' she thought as she observed Jane's behaviour.

When Jane noticed her, she looked a bit frantic which made her smile. "Oh, hey, there, Sarah...Jane..."

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I'm a bit busy, right now."

Ryan quickly intervened. "Leave that to me, Jane. Talk to your friend." he said almost too quickly.

"Oh, we are not friend..." Jane said quickly before realized that was a bit rude. "...yet..."

Sarah Jane grinned. "Come on, fellow Jane, let's have a talk somewhere private."

&&&&

The Doctor is panicking when Sarah Jane demanded to talk to her. Did her cover blown? She followed Sarah Jane to a private room.

Sarah Jane immediately turned around and called her 'Doctor' much to her horror.

"I'm not...a doctor? I'm a mechanic...?"

Sarah Jane looked at her with a look that said she is dumb. "Cut the crap, Doctor. I know it is you."

The Doctor sighed. "How did you figure it out?"

Sarah Jane grinned. "So it's you. You've changed!" she said with a happy smile as she hugged the Doctor. "You are a time lady now..."

The Doctor shushed her and looking around hoping no one is around as she opened the door and take a look at the corridor. She sighed in relief when she saw no one. Deemed safe, she turned to Sarah Jane and hugged her back. "It's so good to finally be able to talk again with you, Sarah Jane..."

"Oh, Doctor...I'm so glad you're here. We could all use your help." She said.

The Doctor can't help but feeling guilty.

Sarah Jane frowned. "You are not here to join the resistance?"

She shook her head.

"You are here for the time sensitive." she concluded. She looked disappointed.

"Do you know who he is?" The Doctor asked.

Sarah Jane blinked at her before having a realization of something. She turned away from the Doctor. "Even for you, I can't tell the identity of the time sensitive."

The Doctor grabbed her. "But you know who, don't you?"

Sarah Jane didn't answer but the Doctor know that she knew. "I'm not gonna tell you, Doctor."

"Sarah Jane, you know the fate of time sensitive. He's dying without a bond."

"And he prefer dying over being forced to bond, Doctor."

The Doctor shook her head. "He will die in pain."

"And it will be his choice." Sarah Jane said carefully. "Doctor, you know how your race treated the time sensitive, how can you be okay with this?"

"I'm not okay with it. But there is nothing I can do to stop it."

"Are you really here for the time sensitive?"

The Doctor nodded. "I was told to find him and bring him to Gallifrey...alive." she said. "If they send anyone else, it would be to execute him, Sarah Jane. I can help him."

"What are you going to do? force a bond with him?"

"Beg for a bond with him." The Doctor answered. "I wouldn't force him. I wanted to save him, Sarah Jane."

Sarah Jane shook her head. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I can't help you." She turned around and left the room quickly despite the Doctor's protest.

The Doctor groaned in frustration. "Now what do I do?" She can only hope that Sarah Jane didn't betray her to the resistance. She could forced inside Sarah Jane's head using telepathy to get the identity of the time sensitive but if she do that, Sarah Jane would never forgive her.

&&&&

I screamed as I ripped myself from my vision. I sobbed hard as I finally woke up.

Yaz, my eternal companion, went to my side and rubbed my back. "It's okay, (name), breath, just breath..."

"No, it's not okay." I said with a sob. "I saw him..."

"Who?"

"Call Jack and Clara, tell them I need them, please."

Yaz nodded and ran out of the room to find them.

I clutched my heart in painfully and I gasped as I realized I'm having a heart attack. I fell into the floor as I desperately trying to grasp for my medical remote. But I failed.

Yaz, Jack and Clara rushed inside the room. When they saw me gasping for breath on the floor, they quickly worked on me.

I grabbed Jack. "Jack, he's coming..." I said with fear in my eyes.

"Who?" Jack asked.

"The Monitor." I replied.

"Who?" Jack and Clara asked in the same time.

Yaz gasped. "It's a time lord's title. He is the one who murdered her parents." she whispered. "Azazel, she said, she is to call him."

"Okay, that's a slightly better name than the Monitor." Clara said. "Is Azazel on his way here?"

I nodded. "He got...out of...the...prison..." I whispered. "Was...meant...for...me...turned...the...table...on him..."

"Nice." Jack praised me.

"He...is...vicious, Jack..." I warned him. "Put...on...red...alert..."

Jack and Clara nodded and they left me with Yaz to call an urgent meeting with everyone.

&&&&

"What is going on?" the Doctor asked Rory when she saw the soldier ordered to tighten their security.

"The time sensitive... He warned us that a time lord is coming..." Rory said.

The Doctor's body tensed. Did Sarah Jane betray her? But if she did, wouldn't everyone turn against her right now?

"Jane!" Sarah Jane called out.

The Doctor turned to Sarah Jane. "Sarah Jane..."

"Oh thanks God, you're okay, I thought they meant you..." she said in relief.

"What's going on?"

"They have an urgent meeting. A time lord is coming for the time sensitive."

"Sarah Jane, you have to tell me who he is." The Doctor demanded.

"Doctor..."

"Whoever is coming will execute him, Sarah Jane!"

"I can't betray the resistance. They are my family, Doctor. Doctor, you watch your back, okay? Tension is running high. The last thing we want is everyone finding out that you are a time lady." Sarah Jane said and left before the Doctor can say anything.

The Doctor watched her left and groaned in frustration. She wonder if she should risk everything to find the time sensitive. As she walked past a medical room, she heard Martha telling someone to get a rest. She briefly saw the patient and her eyes widened in concern when she saw it was (name).

"(Name)?! Are you okay? What's wrong with you?" the Doctor asked in concern.

&&&&

I groaned. How can I rest when the most loud person is here?

Yaz, who stood near my bed, hid a smile.

Jane fussed over me.

"I'm fine, Jane, stop panicking." I said in annoyance.

"You don't look fine." Jane said with a sad puppy look.

Dear God, what's with the puppy look? Seriously. On the corner of my eyes, I saw Yaz stifled a giggle at my expression. I glared at her.

"Can I stay with you?" Jane asked.

"You should be with the others. They are evacuating the civilians, you know." I said.

"But you are here..."

"I'm sick."

"Hah, you are not fine at all." Jane exclaimed as if she won the argument.

Yaz grinned at the interaction. "Oh, you are both adorable..."

Jane looked at Yaz, puzzled.

At the times, we heard Jack barked orders outside the room. "...a time lord called the Monitor." We caught the end of his orders.

Jane turned pale as she rushed outside the door.

I frowned at the display.

&&&&

The Doctor rushed toward Jack. "Did you say the Monitor?" She practically yelled. The Doctor knew the Monitor. He is one of the most vicious Time Lord back in Gallifrey. If he is here, then a war about to blow up. Strange though because everyone seemed to believe the Monitor is missing.

Jack glanced at her with caution.

The Doctor, realizing her mistake, said, "I meant I heard monitors? Is there monitor need fixing?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "You need to evacuate with the others, Jane. No duty for the civilian today."

Clara stared at the Doctor. "You are funny sort of person, Jane." she said with a grin.

Both Jack and Clara left.

The Doctor groaned again. Time is running out and she can't do anything.

&&&&

"(Name) (Last Name), I know you are there! Come out, come out wherever you are, little lamb." Azazel yelled on the border before the hidden bunker.

&&&&

"Holy shit." Jack cursed as the Monitor basically just outed the time sensitive from the live camera around the border.

There are people that not of the inner circle in the room and they are all asking questions about the name.

Rose, Amy, Rory and Clara exchanged a nervous glance with Jack.

(Name) is not gonna like this.

&&&&

I flinched as if I could hear Azazel. We have an incomplete bond. I couldn't find a way to break the half bond.

"Yaz, the medicine..." I asked.

Yaz stared at me. "Don't, (name), the medicine is not good for you."

"There is no time, Yaz, time is running out for me. It is time." I said.

Yaz reluctantly gave me the medicine.

I popped some pills and drank some water. I felt better just enough to take action.

"(Name), there has to be other ways..."

"there isn't. I told you a long time ago...this is how I end..."

Yaz blinked back tears.

I hugged her close. "It's been a pleasure to be your friend, Yaz." I said as I said my goodbye.

Yaz hugged me back. "This isn't fair."

&&&&

"What are you doing out here?" Jane asked me as she spotted me on the hallway.

I sighed at her. "I could say the same about you." I said.

She grinned sheepishly.

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. Can you help me to the command center?" I asked.

"Why are you going over there?"

At the times, Amy and Clara approached us.

"(Name), he is asking for you..." Amy said.

"I know." I said. "Amy, you should be with Melody. She would be frightened right now."

Amy nodded and left to find Melody.

"wait, who is asking for (name)?" Jane asked. "What do Jack want with her?"

Clara looked amused. "jealous?" she asked Jane.

I glared at Clara. "Not the time nor the place, Clara Oswald."

"Sorry, can't resist..." Clara shrugged with a grin.

Clara and Jane helped me to the command center.

Jane let me go as she stepped toward the monitors showing the live feed of the Monitor. "Is that...?"

"...time jackass..." I said.

Jane turned to look at me, really looked at me, and frowned. She gasped. "It was you..."

I frowned at Jane.

Azazel yelled again, calling out my name.

"Well, the cat is out of the bag..." I whispered in annoyance. "Jack, it is time."

Jack looked saddened at my words.

Jane looked at Jack and Rose and Clara and Rory. They are all wearing a sad face. "What is going on? What are you planning to do?"

I sighed in annoyance. "None of your business."

"Of course it is! You lot are in trouble and I can help!" Jane said.

"Jane, enough..." Rose said. "You need to leave."

Jane glared at Rose. "Not going anywhere." She turned toward me. "What are you planning to do, (name)?"

I glanced at Jane. "Psychic bomb."

Jane took a step back in shock. "What?"

"On the other timelines, I foresaw my death by psychic bomb initiated by my darling time jackass husband. He pushed me on a room where some other time lords are and detonated my time sensitivity energy into a psychic bomb, stopped my heart and the other time lords' hearts." I said absentmindedly.

"What?" Jane exclaimed again.

I ignored her and turned to Jack. "I'm going to use it against the Monitor."

Clara's eyes widened. "That's why the barrier..."

"Yes, Clara. I'm going out there to face him in a safe distance. You lot will put up the barrier just in case I'm not far enough when I detonate the bomb." I said.

Everyone, in my inner circle, understood and nodded. Except Jane who still having a hard time understanding.

"No." Jane said. She turned to me with a firm look. "I'm not going to let you do that."

I glared at her. "Who are you to stop me?"

"I'm the Doctor and I am a..."

Sarah Jane yelled, "Doctor, don't!"

"...time lord, I mean, lady...every time..." Jane, no, the Doctor revealed herself and groaned.

Sarah Jane shook her head. Of course the Doctor would ignored her regarding keeping her identity a secret.

The Doctor turned toward me with a firm look. "And I voted no to psychic bomb."

I growled angrily when the truth about who she really is sink in. "You don't get a vote, time jackass!"

Jack and the others pointed their weapons at the Doctor.

"Everyone calm down!" Sarah Jane begged.

"Ugh, what is it with you lot and guns?" complained the Doctor as she pulled her sonic screwdriver from her pocket and waved it around to disable their weapons much to everyone's annoyance upon finding their guns are useless.

Rose glared at her. "Well, considering your kind is the one who started this in the first place, do you really think you can complain? You took people from their friends and family."

"I know but you also know bonding is the only way to save the time sensitive." The Doctor said. "The Time Lord just want to save them..."

"And sentenced them to a life of slavery." I added with venom on my voice as I glared at her coldly. "Time Jackass." I said pointedly at her.

"It's a work in progress... For now, that's the only way to save them."

Rory snorted at that. "I won't accept that, not for my little girl. Melody deserves better than to be tied to some Time Lord that can't even treat people equally."

"Either way, detonating a psychic bomb is a really bad plan." The Doctor said to everyone and then she actually pouted at me. "And by the way, that's really hurt, (name), I haven't been a jackass to you." The Doctor exclaimed with a puppy look.

Clara burst into a giggle which earned her a look from everyone especially me. "Sorry, but she's funny..."

"What do you want, Doctor?" I spat angrily.

The Doctor walked toward me and actually kneeled before me. "Bond with me..."

My jaws dropped in shock. "What?"

"Oh, I should have gotten a popcorn..." Clara whispered to Rose who elbowed her but can't help but smiled in amusement.

Even Jack couldn't help but laughed at my predicament. "Did she just propose to our (Name)?"

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes at the Doctor with fondness.

I glared menacingly at the Doctor. "What make you think I want to bond at all?" I spat. "Your race put mine through hell. And that bastard out there took my parents from me. I wanted to kill him."

"And then what? Say your plan work, he died and you died. What happened to the resistance? Melody is not ready as a time sensitive to fight for the resistance. And Gallifrey, the other Time Lords, will see his death as a declare of war on them and they will pulverized the resistance with their weapon." The Doctor exclaimed quickly. "Your fight will be over."

I frowned, seeing the truth in her words. "How do I know this is not a trick? After I bond with you, how do I know you are not going to turn against us?"

Sarah Jane stood before me and said, "I vouched for her. She can be trusted. She is the time lord I told you about. She is good. Beside if anyone can stop an army, it would be the Doctor, the oncoming storm..."

I snapped my eyes toward the Doctor at the mention of storm. "Storm person...?" I whispered.

The Doctor looked at me, one hand raised toward me. "What do you say?"

Before I could reply, my head suddenly filled with pain. I fell to the ground before the Doctor, clutching my head in panic. "He is in my head..."

The Doctor's eyes widened as she used her sonic on me and frowned at the result. "Incomplete bond...and the closest he is to you, the bond will be wanting to complete." she whispered. "(Name), look at me, the Monitor is a very bad very vicious person, you don't want to be his bonded. Allow me to bond with you and I can break his hold on you. Please trust me."

Sarah Jane also kneeled before me and said, "I would definitely choose the Doctor if I were you.."

I glanced at the both of them and then yelped in pain again.

The Doctor grabbed both side of my head and whispered, "I need your consent, (name), please give it to me."

"Okay..." I relented finally.

"Say I consent and gladly give..." The Doctor put her forehead on mine as her hands took a hold of mine.

"I consent and gladly give..." I whispered.

A yellow glow surrounded us and all the pain in my mind suddenly cleared and I felt so much better than I have been for years.

The Doctor smiled at me with relief. "Thank you..." She said before releasing me and stood to face everyone. "Now, where were we?" She heard the Monitor yelled in enraged, feeling the bond disappeared, demanded to see me and my bonded. "Right, that..."

I slowly stood up and stared at the live feed. "What do we do know?"

Jack put a hand over my shoulder. "You are no longer dying then?" he asked.

I smiled.

He grinned and spin me around in excitement. "Good news!"

Everyone laughed at us, except the Doctor, who pulled me away from Jack.

"Possessive already, I love it..." Clara grinned at the Doctor.

"Right time to deal with the Monitor. I'm gonna go out there. You lot stay here." The Doctor ordered.

I stopped her. "Is that a good idea? You said it yourself he is dangerous. And right now, you are probably his least favorite person."

The Doctor winked. "Worried for me?"

I stuttered in embarrassment and Jack and the others laughed at my being speechless.

"We never get along anyway..." The Doctor said. "He never like me." She shrugged.

"Doctor, just be careful." I said. Now that we are bonded, I can see that she is good, like Sarah Jane said, though I still am wary because of her race. I could see the Doctor's timeline swirled around her.

"Careful is my middle name." The Doctor said with a grin.

"More like reckless is your middle name." Sarah Jane said.

"Oii!"

&&&&

I watched with the others on the live feed as the Monitor challenged the Doctor on a duel for a chance to take over me. To my horror, the Doctor actually accepted. I'm not worried for her, well, maybe a little, but more like I worried she will lose and than I would have to surrender to Azazel.

Thankfully, the Doctor won and declared that I belong to her and the Monitor has to leave me alone. The Monitor actually obeyed her which surprised me because he didn't strike me as the type to take order from a woman.

The Doctor returned to the bunker and grinned adorably at me.

Adorable. Oh, God, is the bond making me to start feeling thing for her? I frowned in worry. Would I not be me anymore?

The Doctor hold one of my hand and said, "It will be okay, (name)..." She kissed my knuckles softly much to my embarrassment.

I pulled my hands away from her and turned around only to see Jack and the rest are giving me amused looks. I glared at them. "Shut up."

"Didn't say anything." Jack said with a shitty grin.

&&&&

That night, Jack and the others held a banquet for the Doctor...and me much to my annoyance.

The Doctor danced a silly dance with the children much to everyone's amusement.

When she returned to the seat beside me, she glanced at me with fondness. How can she be fond of me already? I couldn't understand it.

"Would you come with me into the Tardis?" She asked.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I'm not staying at Gallifrey! This is my home."

"Oh, I know, I'm not taking you there. But...I can show you the world..." The Doctor said softly.

Rose, who heard our conversation, giggled with Clara as she said, "Look at her, she's about to burst into ' a whole new world' song..."

I turned toward them with a glare but they kept laughing at me. I rolled my eyes at them before turning to the Doctor. "What about Gallifrey? I assume they sent you here to get to me, right? What are you gonna say to them?"

"That you are bonded to me thus no longer a threat to them."

I frowned at that.

"I'm not gonna abuse our bond. I promise. I just have to convince them that you are obeying me." she said in a rushed tone.

&&&&

I stepped into the Tardis and despite knowing about Tardises from my vision, I still in awe of the Doctor's Tardis.

The Doctor grinned proudly seeing my reaction. "Say it, please, say it..."

It's bigger on the inside..." I said.

"I know." She giggled happily.

I hid a grin at how adorable she is right now like a puppy.

And she showed me some beautiful place on another planets. I could slowly feel myself falling for her hard. Maybe it won't be a bad thing.

"Doctor, I have to tell you something..."

The Doctor, who is on the console pulling on some button, raised her face toward me. "What's it?"

I approached her slowly. "It's about your timeline. It's all wrong. Someone changed your past and this universe is the result."

The Doctor frowned at me. "How do you mean?"

"My friends, my inner circle, the people I recruited, they are your friends, or are supposed to be. They are your companion. I saw a storm person in my vision, he is a good man and he will be you eventually. You and them, defenders of the earth..." I said with a faraway look as I recalled my vision.

"Show me?" The Doctor pleaded for permission to see into my head and I let her.

She gasped as she released me. "Not possible..." She looked troubled.

"I'm not even supposed to be a part of your life." I said. "I died and never met you."

The Doctor turned toward me and put a hand over my cheek. "Can't imagine never meeting you..." she whispered softly.

"Doctor...we have to fix it..."

"Why?"

"Because that's the correct timeline."

"I destroyed Gallifrey and in your vision, I was still a good man?"

"The very best man..." I said. "You have the best companion, the most loyal to you...and you have River Song...your wife... She was Melody...and she was the love of your life."

The Doctor could see a flash of a young woman in curl and high heels calling out 'Hello, sweetie' to her previous incarnations and then she saw a scared little girl trapped in spacesuit.

"No." She said.

"Doctor..."

"That was no longer my timeline. That was things that happen in some alternate universe now. They are not my past or future." She said. She turned toward me. "You are. Now. You are my future." She caressed my face gently.

Oh this woman will be the death of me, I thought as I pulled her and kissed her hard.

She kissed me back as passionately.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #shiefenwrites

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