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sabraeal · 5 months ago

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If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Written for @claudeng80, who has been waiting longer than a month now for this birthday fic, and who has indeed beta'd this birthday fic as well, for we long ago passed the point where we pretend with each other that our final drafts are our first drafts. And though she cannot and will never see those first drafts because that is a layer of vulnerability on par with peeling off my skin to show off my bones, she can at least see my seconds drafts. Where she will then promptly tell me that I am missing a crucial word in a sentence, and maybe I should consider a comma or maybe a whole ass period, or possibly learn to spell words the way the god or at least the Oxford Dictionary intended. Because that is what friendship is all about 🤣

The problem is: it feels like too much.

The suitcase had been a given, of course; Chizuru only had the one, a gift from Father on her twelfth birthday, meant to be used on the single vacation he’d set aside time to take her on. Even after six years, the flower decals still looked like they’d been applied yesterday, pink a vibrant cherry blossom, only the dint on one corner to serve as proof it had ever been used. Disney World might have only lasted two days before a work emergency had them hopping the next flight back home, but at least the Orlando baggage carousel had left its mark. It’d been a happy reminder of better days when she’d been living out of it for those few weeks, unsure of where she would land— or whether she ever would.

It’s only— she hadn’t thought it would be full. Chizuru wouldn’t call herself a light packer by any means, but the event’s only three days, at a hotel that is possibly twenty minutes door-to-door, at least when school’s in session. It hardly seems like the sort of thing that calls for a suitcase filled to the brim. Above the brim even, if she were gutsy enough to take Kimigiku’s costume out of the garment bag— which she isn’t. It’d been heart-pounding enough putting Sen’s paper-wrapped kimono in there, let alone something with parts and pieces and things that could very easily scatter under her bed skirt and be lost for eternity.

Which brought her tally to one suitcase (over laden), one garment bag (to be treated with care), and the small travel pack she’d slung over her chest (overstuffed), gone over a half dozen times each, pared down to the barest bones, and still, still—

She can’t possibly take up this much space. Even in Shinpachi’s Range Rover, it’s too much. Maybe if she tried again, this time—?

3:15, her lock screen reads, a little snowflake sitting beside the 33°F below. Haah, with a four o’clock check in, there’s no chance of her whittling her luggage past the basics. Not unless she want to be late, and if she’s late, then—

Then everyone will be waiting for her. All of them clustered at the bottom of the stairs, watching the time tick down as she tries to decide if she really needs an extra pair of underwear or another package of hair ties. Just the thought threatens to have her break out in a full-body rash.

With a steeling breath, she adjusts her travel pack and rolls out to the hallway. A proposition that would be easier if not for the wall-to-wall carpets in the hall, but Chizuru manages to steer her suitcase competently enough, drawing up to the stairs with enough confidence to survive the six sets of eyes sure to turn her way—

Only to find two instead. Not waiting on her either— no, Yamazaki’s got his head bent close to Hajime, hands shaking with emphasis as he hisses, “I don’t care if he’s done hours before anyone else, I’m not getting in a car with him.”

“I was not insinuating that I would make you,” Hajime intones with weary patience. “I merely wanted to mention the likelihood of Souji being the first of our companions to finish with his preparations.”

“And I’m telling you that I’m not—”

It’s not on purpose; between fight or flight, Chizuru’s legs have chosen freeze, and she’s perfectly resigned to stand statue-still up here, silent and just out of sight. But her suitcase chooses to make it known to everyone in the major metropolitan area that one of its wheels is not perfectly situated on the landing. It tilts, the aggrieved wheel letting out a plaintive squeak— and that’s all it takes for Hajime’s eyes to narrow, slanting up to the top step.

“Good afternoon, Yukimura,” he says, oddly pointed. “It seems you are ready to head to the hotel.”

“Ah…” Her suitcase clunks down the next step with her, wheels spinning. “Yes. I just, um…”

Have to survive these stairs, she swallows down, gritting out a smile instead. She tries to lift her case and garment bag all together, but—

“Yukimura.” Long, well-clipped fingers wrap around the side handle, quite literally taking the weight out her hands. “Would it be alright if I handled this for you?”

“Oh.” Yamazaki’s not a tall man, not by any measure, but in the dim light of the stairway, he looms, and it— it flusters her, free hand fluttering uselessly between them. “I-I can’t possibly ask you to—”

“You’re not.” Hajime hovers at the bottom of the banister, a strange sort of lightness in his voice. If Chizuru didn’t know better she might call it…bubbly. “He is.”

“O-oh.” She stares down at the hand still clenched around a handle, willing each finger to release knuckle by knuckle, so slow it feels like someone else’s hand entirely. “Then…thank you, I guess.”

Yamazaki spares her a nod and a terse, “No problem,” right before he lifts her suitcase and—

And rams it right into the floral wallpaper.

“Nice,” Hajime hums, appreciative.

Yamazaki’s still flushed when he glares down, snapping, “I don’t see you helping.”

“And get between you and serving hime-sama?” Hajime’s not one to smirk— honestly, he’s not much on smiling either, save by millimeters— but a corner of his mouth trembles as Yamazaki tromps down the last few stairs, stormy as one of their winter squalls. “I would never.”

His jaw doesn’t so much open as fall, working, as if he needed a good running start to get his next words out. Chizuru simply slips around his side, asking brightly, “Have you been waiting long?”

“We were just discussing who we thought would be next in finishing their preparations,” Hajime tells her, not really answering her question. Experience tells her that means ‘a long time.’ “Although Shinpachi could fit the seven of us in his vehicle, we would more comfortably divide into three and four amongst two cars, and since I have a perfectly serviceable sedan”— Chizuru’s confusion must show her face, since one look at her has him hauling to a stop, coughing to clear his throat— “I mean to say, we were waiting for our third.”

“Oh.” She blinks, glancing between the two of them. “I guess that’s me?”

“So it seems.” There it is, that tremble at the corner of Hajime’s mouth, threatening to curl. For a moment, she’s certain it will, but he turns his head away, casting a speculative look down the hall. “Should we wait to take on another passenger, or—?”

“Better not risk it.” Hajime half-turns toward Yamazaki, disappointment palpable, and he adds, “Oh come on, Nagakura has the bigger car.”

“That doesn’t mean we should—”

Whatever Hajime means to say is lost in the tangle of boy and bag clattering down the stairs, the struggle so loud Chizuru’s ears still ring even after it’s over.

“Oh hey,” Heisuke says, cheerfully emerging from the tumble. “You guys haven’t left?”

Yamazaki blinks. “Not…yet…”

“We were just discussing if we should wait,” Hajime says. “Since Shinpachi’s vehicle might be preferable to the remaining passengers.”

“Nah, those guys are gonna take forever to get ready. Sano has a whole bag just for his freaking hair! And not only that, but him and Shinpachi have been fighting for the last ten minutes over who owns this styling gel or whatever, which like, who cares? But still” — Heisuke stops to catch his breath— “You got room for one more?”

Yamazaki and Hajime exchange looks. Just what exactly they’re saying, Chizuru can’t even begin to guess.

“Well,” Hajime hums, bemused. “That does handle one problem.”

“Fine.” Yamazaki sighs, hefting a bag over his shoulder. “Let’s just go already.”

Despite all her fretting, her suitcase fits easily into the back of Hajime’s Elantra, slotting into the last spot in the trunk with little more than a twist and a lift. It helps that all Heisuke has is a duffel, crammed into the corner with all the care of a dirty sock being returned to the hamper.

“Don’t you have costume parts in there?” Yamazaki manages around a grimace; one that only deepens at Heisuke’s shrug.

“It’s fine.” He gives the bag one last good shove, wedging it firmly against the side. “I just threw it together. And Sano says he’s gonna bring all the sticks or whatever—”

“They’re boffers,” Hajime interjects, “technically.”

“Yeah, that.” Heisuke claps him on the back. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Hotels have those iron thingies, don’t they?”

Both eyebrows hitch up to Hajime’s hairline. “You know how to use an iron?”

Heisuke’s face crumples in confusion. “Well, no. But how hard can it be?”

Plenty is the answer, though Chizuru’s in no mind to give it, not when she’s preoccupied with trying to hang her garment bag on the hook over the window. Yamazaki and Hajime had made it look easy, but hers just keeps sitting wrong, taking up too much space and—

“You can take the front.”

She blinks up, half spilled out of the back seat, right up into Yamazaki’s concerned frown. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you wanted. It’s probably, er, nicer than having to share the back with—” his gazes darts over her head, to where Hajime patiently coaches Heisuke in the proper way to treat his personal items— “anyone.”

Her hands fly up, waving between them. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly! I can’t have you sit back here with my bag in your way.”

“We have bags back there too,” he reminds her, leaving the ‘and we’re definitely making Heisuke deal with it’ unspoken. “It’s only fair for me to make the offer.”

“Ah, I suppose…” She runs her fingers down the seam of her garment bag, considering. “But really, I’ll be fine. I’m sure Hajime would prefer to have you as his copilot!”

His mouth furrows, the perfect counterpoint to the storm brewing on his brow. “Yukimura—”

“All done!” Heisuke bursts onto the bench seat beside her, quivering with the same energy as a dog wagging his tail. “We gonna get this show on the road soon?”

Yamazaki’s mouth pulls too thin for a sigh to slip through; instead it all rushes out of his nose, coming to an abrupt halt when he glances down at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to change seats?”

“Hey! What’s up with this thing?” There’s not a lot of Heisuke, but what there is stretches across the seat, reaching out to give her garment bag one good tug. It’s like magic— one minute it’s shoving a shoulder across her seat, and the next it’s tucked into the handle, laying flat against where the door would be. “There, all set.”

He settles back, utterly nonchalant, as if he didn’t realize he’d done anything exceptional at all. Chizuru fails to stifle a laugh.

“Yes,” she says, giving Yamazaki one of her brightest smiles. “I think I'll get along just fine.”

“Woah? This is the place?” Heisuke jabs a finger toward the glass doors beneath the portico, duffel slung over his shoulder. “You sure?”

“Of course it is.” Yamazaki steps into the revolving door, suitcase clattering at his heels. “Haven’t you seen the campus hotel before?”

“Well, like, not up close,” he admits, following him through. “But this is nice. Like nice-nice. Are you sure they’re gonna give us discounts on a place this swanky?”

Chizuru has to admit, she’s thinking the same. From the outside, it didn’t seem like anything much— just another brutalist building squatting on campus, only with better parking access— but on the inside…

“Is this marble?” she murmurs faintly, nervously mincing across the floor. A hundred dollars for the weekend seemed like a steal when she’d thought it’d have the same level of amenities as a Holiday Inn Express. Now it’s practically highway robbery. “And the chandeliers…?”

“Satsuma Estates has been very kind to our organization since it started,” Saito informs them as he emerges from the door, his own suitcase coming to rest at his heels. “Most of their meeting spaces are influenced by traditional Japanese aesthetics, which meets our standards for a desirable location, and on their part, we are regular, respectful customers who—”

“We hold our biggest events during the part of the fiscal year where there isn’t much in the way of guests.” Yamazaki’s mouth slants, almost sly. “Spending New Year’s Eve on an empty campus in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly on anyone’s bucket list.”

“So we get to have this place all to ourselves?” Heisuke eyes a vase that could have been just as at home in the Forbidden Palace as it was in a hotel lobby. “And they don’t have a problem with us running around in our costumes? I mean, with the swords and everything?”

“Boffers,” Hajime reminds him at the same time Yamazaki sighs, “They’re just foam.”

There’s a look that passes between them; a weary one, at least for Yamazaki’s part, though Hajime…well, Chizuru could hardly pretend to be an expert on the minute changes that marked a shift in his moods. But if she had to hazard a guess, she might say…amused.

“The more regular players typically bring foam or rubber replicas, with little intention to use them outside of aesthetic accuracy.” Hajime nods his chin toward a plastic pipe leaning against the front desk, both ends thickly padded and wrapped in what looked like duct tape. “New ones or the more…martially oriented roles usually elect to use boffers. Regardless, any weapon paraphernalia is inspected and registered at check-in.”

“They are also not allowed to be drawn outside the designated bounds of a scene,” Yamazaki adds, not a little stern as he surveys the crowd. “Personal combat sequences usually require advanced warning as well, since they have to prepare an area especially to accommodate—”

“Hold up. ‘Personal combat sequences?’”

“Duels,” Hajime clarifies.

Heisuke’s eyes pulse wide. “Duels? Really? We can have one of those?”

“As honor demands.”

“Woah.” There’s a new level of respect in Heisuke’s eyes as he scans the room. “And everyone follows the rules?”

“Yes,” Hajime says as Yamazaki grunts, “Mostly.”

Another look slings between them, though this time Chizuru doesn’t mistake the censure in Hajime’s stare.

“They say we’re better behaved than a regular convention,” Yamazaki allows, begrudgingly. “Or at least, we smell better.”

Heisuke blinks. “Smell better?”

He huffs out something in the neighborhood of a laugh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Should we get in line?” Chizuru eyes the crush creeping toward the front desk, barely contained by the black tape borders. “It seems like there’s already a bit of a wait to get through…”

“Jeez! That’s a lot of people!” Heisuke startles, like he’s only just noticed. “I thought this was supposed to be small?”

“Our usual group is around twenty to thirty members.” Hajime casts a speculative look over the lobby. “But for our weekend events, it can easily double.”

“Dude, this is definitely more than double—”

“Why don’t we check into the event first?” Yamazaki juts his chin toward the hall past the lobby, tightening his grip on his bags. “If everyone’s out here, then there can’t be much of a line there.”

Heisuke’s mouth clicks shut with a shrug. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”

The event’s check-in is down the hall from the real one, just inside the first exhibit hall they come across— nearly empty, just like Yamazaki said, the number of people loitering around denser behind the tables than in front of them. For the two boys who are best known as the only ones in the roommate agreement who possess some sense of caution, there’s no hesitation, no moment for them to take in the currents of the room and pick the best course— both beeline straight for one of the tables, lining up with all the ease of habit. Chizuru follows after them, not on their heels, like Heisuke, but taking in the size of the room, in how there’s a few people clinging to the corners, their conversations hushed but curious as they pass.

There’s a mountain of a man in front of them, made larger for how the seams of his button down strain at the shoulders to contain his hunch, and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s familiar. Especially when he stands, unfurling head and shoulders taller than all of them and—

“Yamazaki.” The man doesn’t so much speak as rumble, like far away thunder, turning to them with a warm smile. “I see you did bring your friends after all.”

“M-Mr Shimada,” Chizuru gasps, heat flooding her cheeks. “I didn’t even—?”

Recognize you, she nearly says, but he’s wearing the same button down and slacks he does behind his desk, looking every inch like the professor he is. Or at least, will be, once he’s made the jump from adjunct.

Think you’d be here is more accurate, but the longer she considers the idea, the less improbable it seems. He’s a history professor after all— the kind that keeps replica swords mounted on his office wall, right above the pictures of his wife and kids. An active kendo instructor at the campus gym too, plus a dozen other martial arts she can only half remember the syllables of. She’d already seen him do demonstrations with live steel at the freshman orientation fair, dressed up in a kimono and hakama. And when she thinks about it like that, it’s honestly more surprising that he’s the only one from the department here.

A chill shivers up her spine. He’s the only member of the department she sees. That doesn’t mean he’s the only one in attendance. Her eyes skitter out over the hall, searching for stiff shoulders or the lingering scent of Marlboro—

“He’s brought quite a few friends this time.”

Chizuru startles, but it’s not an expletive that’s been dragged over gravel— no, it’s the reedy voice of the man behind the table, a wide smile pulled across a face as dainty and delicate as a doll’s. And yet when those large eyes fix on her— not the same shocking green of Souji’s, but something softer, mossier, more natural— there’s no innocence behind them, just the ceaseless churning of a great machine.

“Though I see not all of them have made it yet.” He rises, half out of his seat and hand outstretched. “I take it this is…?”

A narrow set of shoulders steps between them. “Heisuke!”

The man blinks, impossibly long eyelashes batting against porcelain pale cheeks, but his smile doesn’t lose any of its shine. “Ah, yes, of course, Heisuke. How nice that you’ve decided to join us. I’m Keisuke Ootori, one of the game masters.”

“Thanks for having me,” Heisuke says, so easy, and— and it would be nice to be like that, to be so confident of being welcome that pleasantries don’t turn oddly personal; that saying hello doesn’t come off as desperate. “It’s my first time doing this whole LARP thing!”

“You don’t say.” Keisuke’s mild gaze slants toward Yamazaki, mouth hitched at a corner. “Well, any friend of Hajime and Susumu’s is a friend of ours.”

“Su…Susu…?” Heisuke blinks, rolling his eyes to stare at Yamazaki. “…Mu..?”

“Don’t start.”

“Now, you were playing…?” A finger runs down the binder in front of him, stopping with a victorious tap. “Matsu Yoshitora, the beastmaster.”

“He’s lion clan!” Heisuke leans over the table, practically quivering without a tail to wag. “Because that’s my fursona.”

“Oh.” There it is again, that little wobble at the corner of his mouth, that dart of his eyes to where Yamazaki stands, hands clapped over his face. “Isn’t that nice.”

“I don’t know him,” Yamazaki says through his fingers, ears blazing bright red. “He just followed us in.”

“What Heisuke means,” Hajime interjects with beatific levels of patience, “it that the lion is his favorite animal. At least out of the options presented in the player’s guide.”

“Ah, I see.” Teeth peek through his smile when the game master turns back to Heisuke, fingers knitted over his binder. “You know, one of our other players has a whole functioning tengu suit. I think you might get along.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Yamazaki grumbles, but it’s too late, Heisuke’s already nodding his head, saying, “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds cool.”

“It sure is. Technically impressive too. Now, if you have weapons”—his hand sweeps out toward the table cozened up to his, and the girl behind it— “Marie can take care of their registration.”

“They’re not here yet,” Heisuke hurries to tell him— and as an afterthought, her. “They’re in the other car.”

“If you can describe it, we can get the process started.” The girl— Marie— smiles, but it doesn’t have the same warmth as Keisuke’s. It’s perfunctory, precise, and certainly satisfies Heisuke, since he slides right over and starts trying to gesture dimensions. But still, Chizuru can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something cold beneath that polite smile, something pointed about the way her eyes avoid anything past the midline of the tables—

“Now, you”— Keisuke’s angles sharpen, teeth flashing behind his smile— “must be Hime-sama.”

Conversation careens to a halt, even the restless murmurs from the corners of the room pressed into silence.

“Ah…um…yes.” Chizuru shuffles a hesitant step closer. “Chizuru. I mean, I’m Chizuru”— he only smiles wider at her blush— “I’m playing Doji Kaoru.”

“Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Chizuru.” He presses a gallant hand to his chest, a sparkle lurking in the corners of his eyes. “And Kaoru. We’ve been waiting a long time to do something with Hime-sama…”

“O-oh! Really?” Her stomach knots itself before hurtling to her throat, bile sour on the back of her tongue. “I’m sorry— it must be so much trouble to— I can always play someone else if it’s going to ruin—”

“On the contrary, Chizuru! You saved us quite a bit of trouble. Especially poor Marie here.” He jerks a thumb toward where she sits, studiously ignoring their conversation. “But on that note— once we’ve wrapped up with check-in, I’d like to talk to the three of you.”

“U-us?” Every hair stands on end. “Are we in…in trouble?”

She could pass out just considering it. Her name’s barely gotten crossed off the list, and already she’s being called in to the principal’s office to explain herself. If only—

“No, no, not at all. In fact, the opposite”— he laughs as he leans in, lowering his voice to a stage whisper— “we’d like you to raise a little trouble.”

“O-oh.” She clasps her fingers to keep them from trembling. “Okay? I guess.”

“We’ll discuss it in a bit.” He settles back, tilting his chin toward the table next to him. “Now if you have any weapons to register, you can—”

“I don’t.”

His words grind to a halt. “You…don’t?”

“No.” She blinks, fingers clenching painfully tight. “Is that…bad?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, the warmth still radiating from his smile— but there’s a sharpness to it too. An edge an unwary finger could cut itself on. “That’s perfect.”

“Hey, Shinpachi! Sano!” Heisuke bolts like a dog let off his leash as they round the corner to the lobby. There’s more than a few people that stand head-and-shoulders above this crowd, but no-one besides Harada shines bright apple red under the light, hair so glossy and soft Chizuru wonders just what he uses for conditioner. “Look! I got this cool bracelet.”

His wrist thrusts out right under their noses, fluorescent green so close their eyes nearly cross just trying to look, but Shinpachi just pushes it out to a visible distance and grins. “Sweet, bro! Where do I get myself one of these babies?”

“Around the corner.” Heisuke puffs out his chest, free hand hooking onto his hip. “There’s a girl handing them out. Look, Chizuru’s got one too, and—”

“Do they really think I’m going wear that?” Souji doesn’t so much arrive as appear, gone one moment and holding her wrist the next, like the neighborhood cat that only winds itself around her ankles when she’s throwing out old chicken bones. One finger slips beneath the pink band, tugging like he hopes it’ll give. “I’d rather cut my wrist off.”

“If you’re not having fun,” Yamazaki sniffs, “you can just go home.”

Souji’s sneer hones to a point. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, nerd.”

Yamazaki’s jaw works, breath so heavy Chizuru’s half worried it might steam, but before he can manage to marshal anything beyond ‘you—’ Hajime replied, “Yes, the bracelet is required. It marks us out as participants in the event, as well as informs security at a glance that any weapons on our person have been registered and approved by the game masters.”

“Wow, really?” Shinpachi blinks, prodding at Heisuke’s band. “Is there some sort of chip in there or something? RFID or whatever?”

“Er, no.” Yamazaki scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s just the color. Green means he’s only got one registered.”

“Blue is two,” Hajime offers, flashing his own wrist. “As I wear both tachi and tanto.”

“Oh!” Chizuru blinks down at her pink band. “What about mine?”

“You do not possess any weaponry,” he tells her, tone taking a surprised lilt. “Either visible or concealed.”

“What?” Yamazaki catches her wrist up in one hand, long fingers feather-light across her pulse, and he blinks at the band like he’s never seen a red paler than fire engine. “You didn’t bring anything?”

“I…” hadn’t known that would be an option. “Is that bad?”

“Ah, no.” His eyes meet hers, pulling wide before his fingers flinch, both hands and gaze skittering away from her. “Just…unorthodox, maybe.”

“I just thought…Kaoru is a courtier.” She shies beneath a shrug, cheeks flushed. “That means that she would put more weight on her words rather than, er…”

Hajime nods. “A good character choice, Yukimura. One that may also have complicated consequences, depending on the sort of story the game masters would like to tell.”

“Oh.” Her throat squeezes, the first prickle of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” A hand falls gently onto her shoulder, fingers tightening in the barest squeeze when she dares to glance up. Yamazaki may not be one for smiles either, but there’s a faint one clinging to the corners of his mouth now, both amused and— and something else. Fond, maybe. “You’re with us, Yukimura. Experienced players live for complications.”

It’s warm where his hand presses to her, even through her coat, and her tongue tangles trying to find the right word, to find the compromise between thank you and I’m sorry, but—

But Souji saunters right up between them, flicking the band at Yamazaki’s wrist. “Hey, if all these colors are supposed to have some meaning or whatever, what’s with the lame ass purple?”

Yamazaki snatches his hand off her shoulder, cradling it against his chest. “What if you just—?”

“It means that he keeps up to the event maximum,” Hajime informs him mildly. “Concealed.”

Harada frowns, considering the band. “And just how many is that?”

“Five.”

“Woah!” Shinpachi takes a half step back, Heisuke quick to follow suit. “That, uh….that’s pretty impressive. Do a, uh…lot of people do that, or…?”

“No, it’s special dispensation,” Hajime clarifies casually. “Only a handful of players ever display the responsibility and mastery of play to earn the right.”

“No way!” Heisuke suddenly no longer shrinks from but stretches toward Yamazaki, an eager grin tugging at his lips. “Dude, are you like, really cool?”

Souji sniffs. “Only if hell has frozen over.”

For once, Yamazaki doesn’t rise to his bait, merely shaking his head. “No, no. It’s really not that big a deal—”

“Uh-huh.” Harada crosses his arms, one corner of his mouth curling toward a smirk. “And just how many people have a band like yours?”

He hesitates— too long, since Hajime is quick to offer, “Three.”

Yamazaki flushes under the sudden spurt of attention turned his way. “Saito would have one too, if he wanted it! It’s just— shinobi carry knives!”

“Lots of ‘em, apparently,” Shinpachi mutters, impressed.

"That's not--!"

“Ah, hey, Chizuru…” Harada turns to her with a sheepish look, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You know, the bunch of us already checked in here, so uh, why don’t you guys go on up?”

“M-me?” She blinks, on hand resting against her chest. “B-but…”

It’s habit to turn to Yamazaki, to leave space for him to air his own thoughts, his own opinions drawn from forethought and experience, but—

But he’s too busy stumbling under the hand Shinpachi claps to his back, looking like he’d like the carpet to swallow him whole.

“Ah!” Her fingers squeeze tight. “Um, yes. Sure. I’ll…get on that.”

The line’s smaller than it was when they first arrived; no longer a crush of people and garment bags and boffers, but a more subdued queue. It’s in no way quick— it moves along, but there’s time to idle between their forays forward, Heisuke pressing Hajime about clans and combat and conspiracies while Yamazaki surreptitiously checks his phone. Never for long, just a click on and off of the screen, like he’s waiting for something, and—

“Next, please.”

“Yukimura,” Hajime intones, utterly serious. “It is your turn.”

She jolts up from her suitcase, eyeing the open desk. “O-oh! Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you all from—?”

“Next customer, please!” another clerk calls from further down as the cluster of people in front of her walk away, polite smile already tacked in place. “Please approach the desk when you’re ready to check in!”

“That’s us,” Yamazaki says, skirting his suitcase wide as he steps around her. “We’ll wait for you when you’re done.”

“Don’t look at me,” Heisuke says, even as she does. “I’m just here for the company. Sano and Shinpachi already handled my room.”

“A-alright.” Hand wrapped tight around her suitcase handle, she rolls forward, knees barely trembling. “H-hello. I have a reservation?”

The receptionist smiles down at her. “Can I have your name?”

“Chizuru Yukimura?” She rises onto her toes, neck craned to watch the woman key her name into their computer, as if that might somehow help her find it. “I should have a single—?”

“Single…? Oh, hm.” The receptionist sits back in her hips, stymied. “I’m actually seeing one of our queen suites?”

A chill races down her spine. “Ah, no, but I— it definitely was supposed to be a single.”

At least it was when she booked it; it was the only thing she could afford, even with the discount. And even then—

“Oh! I see.” A couple clacks across the keyboard brightens the receptionist’s smile by a couple of watts. “It seems you’ve been given a free upgrade to one of our deluxe suites!”

Nothing good comes for free, Father’s voice blares in her ear, they only want to hide a cost you would hesitate pay. Her stomach twists, cold seeping up her throat. “F-free? I don’t have to, er, sign up for anything, or…?”

The receptionist relaxes with clear relief. Chizuru wishes she could do the same. “Yes, completely for free, at no extra charge!”

It’s impossible to swallow past the lump in her throat. “W-why? Did I do something…?”

“It doesn’t say on the reservation.” Her shoulders offer up a scant shrug under her blazer. “We must have run out of single rooms.”

“But…” It’s worse this way, she wants to say, the words clawing in her throat. Because I didn’t earn it. “I…”

“Yukimura.” Yamazaki steps up beside her, furrowed brows already aimed over the counter. “Is everything all right?”

“A-ah, yes!” Chizuru drops her heels, shuffling back from the counter. “It was just…something with the room…?”

“Ms Yukimura received a free upgrade to her reservation,” the receptionist replies cheerily. “Give me one moment, I’ll activate your key.”

“Free upgrade?” He blinks down at her. “Is there something wrong, or—?”

“No!” It’s ridiculous how much of a scene she’s making— anyone else would have just received it with a smile, happy to have gotten the extra mile out of their money, but here she is, half faint, making a mountain out of a molehill. “It’s fine, really.”

The corners of his mouth bite deeper into his cheeks, unconvinced. “Are you sure? One of us could always—?”

“Here you go, ma’am— 1204.” The receptionist hands over a small envelope, two keys nestled inside. With one glance at Yamazaki, her smile slants, angle all-too knowing. “Enjoy your stay. Next customer, please?”

He frowns, knuckles blanching where they grip his bag. “Yukimura—”

“It’s fine!” Her teeth grit down in a smile. “Really, it is. Let’s just get settled in.”

The elevator doors ding in distress as Harada wraps his whole hand around one side of them, refusing to let them slide shut. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to come with you? It’s not that far out of the way.”

It’s four floors at least— her twelve to their eight— and with how the halls stretch across this landing, the lobby central to the rest of the rooms, it’s impossible to say how far of a hike. “No no, it’s fine. I can handle finding it myself.”

“We’re not worried about your sense of direction, Chizu.” Shinpachi crosses his arms over his chest, forbidding. “But what if someone gets weird with you while you’re wandering around up there?”

“Of course that’s your problem with all this,” Souji snorts, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Chizuru gets an upgrade and suddenly you’re all acting like there’s lions trying to split the lame gazelle from the herd. What’s the problem, think someone’s going to make eyes at her getting ice if she doesn’t have at least three of you to scare ‘em off?”

“This is serious,” Shinpachi spits. “There’s a lot of people in this place right now—”

“A serious waste of my time.” With a desultory wave of his fingers, Souji stalks off down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Chizuru’s already said she’s fine. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Harada hums, his too-kind eyes looming over her. “If you don’t feel comfortable, it’s fine for one of us to—”

“No, I’m okay, really.” Chizuru lets her mouth pull wide, hoping her smile is more confident than she is. “You guys need to get your stuff settled. We can meet up later for dinner.”

Harada hesitates, struggling against another distressed ding. “I don’t know…”

“You have your phone, don’t you?” Yamazaki drags his glare from Souji’s back to where she stands, softening. “You’ll call if you need to?”

“Ah, yes!” It takes a moment to fish her phone from her bag, opening and closing zippers as Harada slowly, by inches, loses his struggle against the doors. “Right here!”

She waves it, lock screen bright in the car, and Harada loosens his grip. “As long as you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” The words echo behind closed doors, her stomach rolling as the elevator lurches upward. She glances down at her screen, just in time to see it flash 20% at the corner before going black. “I think.”

It’s the toots that startle her as she creeps down the hall, suitcase wheels rattling across the close-textured carpet, the loudest noise she’s heard since the elevator doors closed behind her. Her grip tightens around her garment bag, weight shifting back on her heels, ready to turn tail and run, but—

But it’s her. The tooting, that is. Or rather, her phone. Embarrassing how long it takes her to think of it, really, but she does, slipping it right out of the pocket she’d tucked it into. 15% it reads now, but that’s not what draws her attention, not when there’s a notification with Sen’s smiling face beaming beside it. did you make it?

The breath rushes from her lungs, half-sigh, half-laugh. Two steps away. Thanks for asking.

It takes an improbable amount of minutes to manage those two-steps, however. Maybe Harada could have made it in one— or Shinpachi, even— baggage all happily come to heel, card in hand, but Chizuru has to trip over hers first, juggling garment bag and suitcase and half-unzipped travel pack until she realizes she can just put her phone away to free up that critical hand. Even still, there’s rustling and shuffling to trade one flat slip of plastic for another, the envelope half bobbling out of her hands before she manages to prise one of those little cards free.

And then, with a wave of her hand— well, a couple of waves, trying to figure out just how to place the card before she just presses it to the pad at the handle— she’s in. Except—

Except it’s not a bedroom. No, it’s a small living area, couch and TV and a half-wall of a kitchenette, a few chairs scattered around. Chizuru toes off her shoes, parking her suitcase neatly beside them, and peers into the next nearest door— bathroom, the glass enclosed shower tucked into one corner and a huge tub beside it, big enough to fit at least three of her inside without touching. She pads her way across, tiles cold even through her socks, and opens the other door, leading out into—

The bedroom, finally. The queen suite with what has to be the largest queen she’s ever seen.

Her fingers fumble her phone from its pocket, flicking past the lock screen straight to the camera—

Only for, anyone swallow their tongues yet?🤭 to flash right across the top of the screen.

There’s no costumes tonight, only a dinner! Tomorrow will be our first opportunity to be in character Though I don’t think anyone will be swallowing their tongues when I’m dressed as a boy ��

Chizuru clicks back through to the camera, tapping the screen to focus, but—

“Are those leaves?” She blinks, first at the screen, and then, as she lowers it, the bed covers. Which, as she suspected, is littered with…some sort of nature. She steps close, pinching one velvety piece of detritus between her fingers and murmurs, “Petals?”

Well, she can’t have that.

boo have some confidence!!! you look super cute in that jinbei i bet *someone’s* heart will flutter at the very least

Her neck swivels, this way and that, trying to find someplace— anyplace— where it’s safe to put down her phone, hopefully close to hand, and— ah, there it is, the bedside table. She sets it down, turning back to the bed with a shake of her head. To think, in a hotel as nice as this one, they had just let someone track in half the outside with them.

It takes her a moment to find the trash can hidden beneath the table, but after that, it’s just a matter of goading all the plant stuff off the cover and into it. A bit more work than she thought she’d be putting into settling it, but it’s worth it to have a clean place to sit when Sen asks, is your room nice?

Very!!! I reserved a single, but it seems they had run out of them, so they gave me a free upgrade 😱 The room’s huge! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed this big!

With a proud grin tugging at her lips, Chizuru takes a quick picture of her newly cleaned covers and sends it off.

omg LOOK at that 😱😱 a real princess bed for hime-sama

Ah, she hadn’t thought of that. Her heels hook around the bed frame, knees cradled up against her chest, and— and Yamazaki might find that funny too, wouldn’t he? Hime-sama having her own palatial accommodations. It’s nothing to flick open his thread and attach the picture, thumb hovering over send—

the only question is who is going to warm hime-sama’s bed 😏

Heat floods her cheeks. What do you mean?

i hear what happens in feudal japan stays in feudal japan you have any idea who you’d like to share with 😏😏😏

I thought princesses didn’t have to share beds

😩 you’re killing me

It’s not new, being teased like this— about this even, not when she lives in a house with six men and a solid half of them only begrudgingly allow themselves to be clothed. But Sen won’t be placated with a blush and stuttered denial— no, once she gets a whiff of romance, she doesn’t know how to give up until she’s got it clenched between her teeth. And unless she wants to pick out one of the guys as her, er, target, well…

It’s funny though! When I got here there was stuff all over the bed

Distraction is the only way out.

stuff?? like…fluids??? gross 🤮 pls tell me you called housekeeping

No, no fluids thankfully! Just some leaf stuff I handled it myself! It took me a while, but I finally got all those little petals off 💪

leaf stuff? petals??

A knock startles her, enough that she finally sees 8% hovering in the corner, her screen flicking over into power saver mode.

“One minute!” she calls out, rummaging through her bag until her fingers catch on the charger cord, tugging it out—

And half of her travel bag. The knock comes again, no more insistent, but Chizuru’s sure it sounds impatient.

“Ah, just another minute, I just have to”— miss the outlet at least twice before she gets it seated— “do this—”

Her screen lights up, the charging icon taking the place of the percentage, and it immediately toots with, where are you staying again?

She has just enough time to dash off, Satsuma Estates, before the knock comes again, and she yelps, “Coming!”

She hurries over, nearly tripping on the corner of her suitcase, but she gets the door open.

“Good evening, Chizuru,” Hajime says, once she does. “It’s time for dinner.”

#yamachi #hakuouki #my fic #modern au #college au #if the mind is willing #LARP au #okay this chapter was not as MUCH unlimited OC works as anticipated #mainly because Chizuru's anxiety alone managed to triple my word count #so uhhhhhhh good for her i guess #but next time should be yamazaki POV. with LORE. and OCs #huzzah

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taohs · 1 year ago

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I'll try making one post at a time instead of multiple posts now. I did that because I thought sending the second messages about the character trivia may be easier for me. But, either way, my messages are too longer for people to keep up with all the time.. From what a lot of people have mentioned me before.

So.. The closest I could see as a happy ending for a series like Black Lagoon would be more of content ending. Like where everyone is alive, with their own found family, content with how their lives are now. But that also depends on what path the creator will take for the story, the characters, everything for the events leading to the end. Because I could see a lot of different outcomes happening right now.

And it seems you have similar views to me about the story and the characters. So that's good for me.

If there is some possibility of an outcome where Rock does take over Roanapur as the only leader in control.. How would that happen. He's intelligent in a lot of ways, he's also persuasive and manipulative - depending on the situation. But the only people in these situation who are the Lagoon Company, and I will say that Revy is the only one out of the group who's willing to risk her life for Rock compared to Dutch and Benny when it involves more dangerous situations (like in the Roberta's Blood Trail arc). Not that they wouldn't help Rock. But, in extreme types of situations, it's usually Revy saving Rock than any other person. So Revy would be Rock's right hand man, well, woman if Rock did decide to take control of Roanapur. But not really anyone else. Unless he's able to convince people to make that happen. But I still can't see that happening either. I don't know.

Children and teenagers have crushes on people who are then them. But it's a completely different situation to act that way, in that situation, in front of everyone to witness too. And I have already said this a lot of times now.. I hope nothing else like that happens in whichever relationship they have. I don't know if Roberta, Garcia or Fabiola will come back in to the story anymore. But if they do, hopefully none of that will happen between them. No more of that.

I never care about relationships. If you and your partner are consenting adults, then everything is between you and whoever you decide to be with. But I cross the line when much younger people (or characters) are involved in relationships. I'm completely against pedophilia and beastiality in every way. That is definitely where I draw the line. Between their ages and power dynamics.. Just no.

Yes. I'm overly critical about details, I'm considered a perfectionist over details other people do not care about. Which is fair. And depending on the series, it might be so difficult for certain things to translation in live adaptions that I feel like they shouldn't waste their time and money on any live adaption. But that is just my opinion. If people do enjoy live adaptions, then they can enjoy the series. I'm never one to ever harass people over their preferences. That's just me though. I'm rarely ever into live adaption versions.

If I do decide to post about any ideas fancasts, then I'll just post one at a time. And only post the people and characters that I've already figured out, since it would be even easier to do. And for the characters I have complications with.. I will only post them if or when I have them figured out. Because I don't want to force myself over an interesting idea that should be considered fun, not stressful. In my opinion. So I might do that soon. But, if it possibly helps you feel better, I imagine the same woman as Balalaika and Olivier Mira Armstrong. Since they're similar characters.

Dutch is a character who has a more calming personality about him than other characters in this series. Maybe his personality makes him seem a lot younger? His personality is old and young at the same time. So I can see why figuring out his age is a bit difficult for people to guesstimate. Maybe that is a detail we'll figure out during his backstory then.

I imagine Garcia's age between 12-14, Fabiola age is between 15-17. Until their ages are mention to fans.

The creator has done artwork of characters celebrating. But the artwork is for celebratory reasons, not really for birthday reasons.

Some other minor trivia about characters again.

Revy's real name is Rebecca Lee.

Obviously this detail was altered in the anime for copyright reasons. But, in the manga, Revy's music preference are of the rock and metal genres. Which you might know that now after reading the manga.

Revy dropped out of school at a young age.

Balalaika's real name is Sofia Pavlovna Irinoskaya or Sofia Irinoskaya Pavlovna, since there are fans who disagree on the order of her name. Because of her name being of Russian origin.

Frederica Sawyer was inspirated by Leatherface of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise. So that is why her surname is Sawyer, and her weapon is also a chainsaw. There's even speculation about why her character is mute, but that's not confirmed either.

Eda's real name is Edith Blackwater.

Eda was a cheerleader in high school.

In Yolanda's younger age, she appeared to look like Marilyn Monroe. You saw her appearance in the one ova season.

I know conversing with people over a screen is very different than face to face. But as a disabled person though, autism is one of my conditions, I've had my fair share of people tell me I'm a cunt just because I have an abrasive way of speaking. It doesn't bother me. But apparently they say I have this rude way of communicating. So that could be a warning for you.

I might have another series recommendation for you. Gangsta. is another series that has a similar concept to Black Lagoon, these criminals from a diverse background. The story and characters are also graphic as a fair warning, like Black Lagoon is. A lot of strong male and female characters.

I'm not saying you have to get into this series now. Or at all if you don't want. The creator of the series is a woman. And, because of how severe her health is, she only works on the series whenever she can. So the series tends to go on hiatus for extensive periods of time. But the series is also underrated like Black Lagoon so a part of me wanted to kind of recommend this series too.

There is only eight novels right now. And the company who created the anime went bankrupt after the first since so I doubt the anime would ever continue. Fans are hopefully for more anime, but all of us are doubtful about it. And hopefully the manga also continues.

So getting into this series is completely up to you. But I still wanted to recommend the series anyway.

- 💋

do whatever makes it easier for you, either way i wouldn't mind and i love reading all of your messages <3 i agree with your take on that kind of happy ending for black lagoon. i definitely would prefer it over an angsty or bittersweet one because i just love happy endings in general. i think roberta so far is the only one to have a "happy" ending despite everything she went through, because she seems content with where her future is taking her, whereas the other characters are still going along their own path. it will most likely take a long while though before we reach any conclusion

yes! revy has shown time and time again that she is willing to be rock's gun and protect him. though i'm not sure to what extent she'll keep protecting him, since revy wants rock to stay as her light, and him becoming a leader of roanapur will probably send him to the dark instead. i don't see dutch and benny being willing to go as far as revy would. they're all friends, but dutch and benny would probably put their own well-being first over rock's in the end. especially if they can't benefit from his choices. he might be able to recruit a few more loyal guards to protect him, but i still can't see him going against hotel moscow or the hong kong triad

ohh i'm definitely interested in your fancasts, but take it at your own pace whenever you want to! i want it to be fun and not stressful <3 i can definitely see balalaika and olivier being played by the same woman. they're both gorgeous and so strong

i love reading those minor trivia. were they all from the novels? especially with facts like balalaika's real name, since i don't recall them saying it in the manga or anime. i knew young yolanda looked a little familiar! i didn't even realize it could've been inspired by marilyn monroe

i've heard a little bit about gangsta before. i'll put it onto my list to start on someday. right now i'm prioritizing black clover so i'll see when i'll be able to finish that. i'm really enjoying it so far, and the black bulls are such a fun group of cast. thank you for the recommendation!!

#answered #💋 anon

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rob-thedairyqueen · 2 months ago

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Hmm. This is an interesting conundrum. I don’t know if I have any useful answers, but I would like to try.

Let’s see… for starters, I think it’s worth noting that happiness isn’t necessarily the feather-light, easy thing that some people think it is. It can be that! But it isn’t always. I naturally have a fairly cheery disposition most of the time, so others are a little surprised sometimes when they start getting to know me better. But to me, my own love for living is the heaviest, most haunting thing I will probably ever carry. Every time I jump in a puddle when it rains, or laugh at stupid stuff with my sibling, or sing a little song to myself, I’m digging my nails into wonder and clinging to it like I’m scared it might leave. Perhaps you might concepualize the emotion more if you picture its heavier side first. Happiness can ache. Maybe you will recognize it by that ache.

Another possible way to think about it is this; everything is defined as much by what it isn’t as what it is; that is the relationship of inverses. I use this analogy for a lot of things. Imagine that you are drawing an object. You could just draw the object, sure, but if you only draw the negative space around an object, you’ll be able to see it just as clearly. Look at the suffering of your characters. If absolutely everything sucked, it wouldn’t matter at all, right? Because there would be nothing left worth saving and we don’t have to care if it all burns 😇. So all the sources of happiness are baked into your stories and your characters, because what’s happening to them *matters.* What do they care about? Why do they care? What do they want? What are they holding onto? What do they need? And what would happen if a character got even a tiny taste of one of these things? Even if it hurts. Even if it’s just a teasing glimmer, or just an idea of a thing, a hope, even if it’s a very vulnerable and fragile thing. Let’s take a look at this object implicated by the negative space around it.

It is easier to draw from what you have and work from there, than it is to assume you are entirely lacking and try to build something from scratch. Let’s shift away for a second from, “I am a complete stranger to happiness and therefore am tasked with imagining something beyond the scope of my experience.” That framework makes your challenge more difficult. Maybe you are unfamiliar with happiness. That’s okay! Let’s observe the feelings you do have instead and see what we can work with. Have you met satisfaction of some kind, even if it is bitter? Or perhaps contentment or comfort, even if it looks more like resignation? Explore. Watch. Look for all the tiny nuances in your experiences and those of your characters. What is already there? What can you extrapolate from?

Another problem is that sometimes people make the mistake of viewing happiness as a destination of some kind, a point at which there is no longer struggle. If you succeed, if you do everything right, happiness will come after, and it cannot exist alongside pain. But such is not the case! Happiness is a cookie stolen from the jar before dinner as soon as no one is looking. It’s cheeky that way. So of course no one who puts it up on a high shelf until everything is alright is liable to reach it very often. Simple fluff is a wonderful thing, but you needn’t limit yourself to that if it isn’t what you want to try. Most stories require conflict! And with that comes pain. But your characters might yet steal a cookie from the jar if you give them half a chance.

I hope some of this was at least vaguely helpful or interesting lol, and that this isn’t way too much. But above all, I’d like to second the people saying that your relationship to your work and the darker themes in it are for *you* to decide. Are you genuinely interested in writing happiness, or are you only doing it because someone else says you should? Stepping out of your comfort zone can be very fun and useful, but only if it’s what you want. Don’t squash your own interests or voice for anyone else. Your dark or sad or terrifying stories all have value!! Heck, I myself love to write dark stories. In fact, I’ve been building up to an entire torture scene in one of my works that I’m very excited to write XD. I just wanted to throw in because the puzzle you’ve presented me with is fun to try and solve!

Whatever you decide to do, I hope your writing goes very auspiciously!

Hey, writers and fanfiction people on Tumblr. I have a question.

It is recently been brought to my attention as a writer, that all of my stories involve characters dealing with extreme trauma and suffering, or otherwise being extremely self-sacrificing and self-destructive. My best friend purports that since I share a lot of the same traits, that writing these kinds of dark self sacrificial stories is really negatively impacting my mental health. He challenged me to write about happy characters that are dealing with Obstacles towards whatever their goals are, or characters with positive outlooks. The problem is that I can’t imagine happiness?

Shut up, I know how that sounds. Don’t worry about that now.

My question is this: how do you create happy stories that don’t just sound like the Teletubbies or Dora the Explorer or whatever?? It bothers me that I can’t figure out how to write stories with happiness in them. Like not even one. Suggestions would be appreciated.

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hospitalterrorizer · 1 year ago

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diary14

9/18-19/2023

so sleepyyyyy.

i've done 3 more songs, not the 5 i would have preferred but i did figure out a way to make everything easier on myself, and i got a few new "guitar" sounds out of today too. so it's been a long day, like yesterday, since about noon i've been at it, i took a longer break today but i didn't cook or eat, i just spent time with my gf, we're always around eachother, or i guess not so much since she's started work/school (same thing for her cuz grad student) but i digress.

so i'm up to 8, but, really, the 5 yesterday will need to be worked on more too. but i think i'm deciding that what i'm going to do is a single pass, and then come back and listen, and figure everything out like that, less obsessive, hopefully by nailing out the process more i'll get stuff that's overall fine, with few shocking or strange bits, and more just issues of levels. getting the drums standardized again is going to go a long way in that i think. when i say again, it's because they already were, but they were sort of sloppy, same sounds, some minor eqing, i handled the drums by letting them clip and eat whatever they needed to eat up to sound right. they were always super fucking loud. now they are less so. so i got compression and eqing on the kick and snare.

and it sounds good. the song i just did with this has a kick that's a bit too loud, there's an extra snare that's sort of not there that i need to bring out, and yeah, it's all coming up a lot better this way. there's a lot of surgical stuff i get stuck on but if i just go about mixing like this maybe that won't have to happen. very exciting stuff.

i know this is taking its toll on me, i'm sad that i'm basically not writing or even listening to music right now, i have now thrown 4 days into what feels like a minor tragedy, but i will at least get some songs that sound nicer i think.

the nicer sound is kind of really gonna go a long way in helping get things feeling right too, i think the kind of associations i'm going for might become more obvious. super-rainbow-puke freakouts, dandyist hardcore, you know, that kind of thing, it is a thing, i think.

right now though i've been so without like, relaxing, i'm listening to a record i haven't listened to in a while, oval - wohnton. people don't talk about this one as often as they should, there's a song here that the alien9 ost stole too, basically, no one talks about that either. the song woisdiestadt? is sampled and looped for a song. i thought for the longest time the person who made the ost was just a genius, but it was actually oval. they're a genius for knowing to steal that though.

i'd listen to this record all the time in my early semesters at college, this and tujiko noriko's make me hard. make me hard has been with me since highschool, it's a really incredible record, it's fucked up how that, orchid, have a nice life, and salem, sort of propelled me into wanting to make music. there's a ton of other stuff too. there really was a lot of post-hardcore. i've been sat here figuring out how to make uncanny and strange synth guitar replicas of the things guitars do in certain kinds of post-hardcore. isn't that fucked up.

a funny thing about oval is he'd draw on cds with sharpie and stuff, get the fucked up glitchy rips and work with those as samples, among other kinds of fuckery/glitch stuff. i got a bunch of really awesome cds from a goodwill once, like real nice stuff to keep in your collection, cocteau twins holv and an aphex twin cd single for come to daddy, as well as the 2nd placebo album, and instead of keeping them i did that. i think at the time i thought about punk rock, and said, fuck it. i don't regret it. i still think punk rock, and say fuck it, at least about some things.

wednesday is errands day again, not looking forward to that + continuing to deal with this mess, but who knows, it could be one of the good ones. i know this is taking some kind of toll cuz in the shower i just closed my eyes and started seeing things, and with my eyes open i saw distant and inexplicable phantoms of silver/blue light, a streetlight gone wrong maybe, hovering. it wasn't a hallucination i think it's just something that happens after looking at eq curves all day and quibbling over .5 db differences in some places.

i did barely eat today, and my stomach kinda hurts. i drank some tea with boba in it, that my gf brought home, it was hers but i steal, because i am cool. actually she let me so didn't steal i'm a good person.

i did try to practice vocals today too, just lightly i guess, because i should stay in practice daily w/ this stuff.

i am terrified, right now, and every day i guess now, that i'm going to hear these new versions, and hate them. but i don't think i will. and if i do, i can fix them again, and it's not so bad. but god the thought scares me so bad. it's so early in a new process, how do i know i'm actually right about this. but you go asking for second opinions, a lot of people just want to say what you've done is good, because it probably is basically, but it maybe sounds wrong to me, i want it to be right. that's nebulous but i want it to be what i want, i think, earnestly, i'm getting there, and maybe at worst, this doubt is a passing anxiety that i'm going to fuck up 23 songs. but fuck it. i put my voice on them, that fucks them up enough.

i don't think they're getting any worse, checking on a couple. like i thought, tiny adjustments can be made, and i'll make them eventually, but it feels reassuring i guess to check, it also feels super obsessive and like i can't stop myself and i have to stop myself, if i want to not go crazy.

i don't wanna go crazy and gosh it's getting so hard to type and my eyes are heavy and stuff but there's more to say maybe.

i got some lyrics out. some short thing, new shouty sccreachy idea. it's funny to add more to my plate but it feels kinda good, i should figure out how to recognize sentences that are good for noisecore outburst things, and just do that. save them, maybe, too, for the future.

and soon i want to start on the album art, i want to get to a place where i feel okay with starting, and i want to get an actually okay picture of me to use on it, that's gonna be a thing where i need to find a place to pose and have a way to have the camera held up high, and good enough lighting conditions, oh my god everything is so difficult and i make everything so hard for myself for no reason but maybe when this is all over i will be so happy that this just adds to the payoff. i hope so.

the bright side is that all these songs that don't have vocals on them yet, this seems like it might make it easier to get all that placed, since i have some headroom and things are like, being mixed instead of left to battle in some hell of clipping and limiting.

say hello to the roses in this photo i took a year ago when i was living with my cousin and aunt in a strange neighborhood of houses that all looked the same and say goodbye to me. i'm gonna to try and relax some more i guess, before getting ready to sleep for another day of supermusichell.

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 3 years ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ~ 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

PART 3 OF 3 (my favorite part yet!!!!! so much angst and fluff and asdf;lkajsdg;lasagnas;ld) Please click [ HERE ] to be taken to the table of contents to read parts 1 and 2 if you haven’t already done so!

word count: 7.4k

a/n: phew we’re finally at the end! i’m so glad i decided to split this up instead of doing 1 long part. i’ll save my real a/n for the end so happy reading my loves! and as always:

When you opened your eyes a few seconds later, you smiled, realizing that it was a success. Because you’d never gone back further than 1970, a small part of you was expecting to open your eyes and still be in the compound.

Taking a moment to process all that just happened, a thought occurred. Sure, Peggy was expecting you at some point, but were you just meant to wait in her tent until she came back? She might be aware of time traveling, but you doubted that the whole camp was the same.

“I’m just grabbing some files, tell him I’ll be there in a minute!”

You turned around just in time to see Peggy entering her tent. When she saw you, she jumped a little, putting her hand to her chest. “I guess I should’ve expected that, they told me you’d be coming.”

You introduced yourself and gave her a long-story-short version of how your powers worked. When you explained that you’d have to be there for around a week, maybe a little longer, you also mentioned that you have limited medical training so if it’d be easier to have you pose as a nurse, you should be alright as long as you didn’t have to treat any major injuries on your own.

She agreed that was a good idea, then mentioned that one of their nurses actually just got transferred, so for now she’d help you pretend that you were the replacement.

“Let’s go and introduce you to Colonel Phillips. I’ve got to go and give him some papers anyway. And this way if he meets you for the first time and I’m there, hopefully he won’t corner you with a million questions.”

She quickly made her way to the tent he was in, and you had to speed-walk to keep up. When you both approached, Colonel Phillips was quick to dismiss the Corporal standing next to him.

“Last surveillance flight is back. No sign of activity.”

Colonel Phillips sighed, then looked behind Peggy as if he just noticed you were there. “You the new nurse?”

“Yes sir,” you stepped forward, hand outstretched, “I’ve just arrived.” He was a little surprised at how forward you seemed, but shook your hand nonetheless.

“I’m just showing her around so that she might become a little more familiar with the layout before she’s put to work.”

He looked at you, then back at Peggy, as if debating how much he could say in front of you. Ultimately, he must’ve decided that you could be trusted… or that he didn’t actually care if you overheard.

“Can’t touch Stark, he’s rich. And he’s the Army’s number one weapons contractor. You are neither one,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Peggy.

“With respect sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.”

Oh. You hadn’t paid much attention to the specific date you were now in, and were only just now realizing that this was right after Steve had gone to rescue James and the others at the Hydra facility, and everyone now presumed them all dead.

“—took a chance with you Agent Carter and now America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead. Because you had a crush.”

You noticed commotion outside of the tent. A lot of it. “Colonel Phillips?” When he finally looked at you, you pointed behind him at what seemed like every man at the camp, all running in the same direction.

As you followed Peggy, who was close behind Colonel Phillips, a smile made its way to your face as you realized you were witnessing Steve, James, and all the other men return.

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” James yelled out, causing everyone around you to erupt in cheers and applause.

You clapped along with everyone else, then stepped back, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. James noticed you standing behind Peggy, though, and his eyes went a little wide. He may be injured, and probably even a little delirious from all that he had just gone through, but he certainly wasn’t blind. You had to be new to the camp because he definitely would’ve remembered if he’d seen you before.

In all the commotion, you made your way back to Peggy’s tent, figuring that you’d give everyone a chance to celebrate the return of all those men. James tried to search for you in the crowd, but quickly lost you. Oh well, he would search the whole camp to find you later if that was what it would take. He had to learn your name at least.

Once things calmed down a little bit, Peggy returned to her tent with a nurses uniform for you to change into. When you were ready, you followed her to one of the larger areas that housed anyone who was injured. All eyes were on the 2 of you as you walked between one of the rows of beds. They stared at Peggy because she was undeniably attractive, and a lot intimidating. And when it came to you, they pretty much echoed James’ thoughts. You were beautiful, and they all wondered when you got there.

“Most of these men just need help cleaning wounds and putting bandages or wrapping them. The more severe injuries are in the tent next door,” Peggy motioned outside. “Will you be alright on your own for a little while?”

Part of you wanted to say no. But you suspected that she wanted to go pay Steve a little visit, so you nodded. As you introduced yourself to a few of the soldiers, occasionally cleaning cuts or wrapping injuries, you not-so-secretly hoped that you didn’t run into James. You didn’t know this version of him, and he didn’t know you either, but with the previous interactions that the 2 of you had, you were terrified that you’d accidentally say the wrong thing, and then this James would hate you too.

Luck wasn’t on your side.

“Hey doll, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Although this was a much younger version of him, you’d know that voice anywhere. Just because the James in your life hated you, you knew that this version still deserved respect. “Sergeant Barnes,” you turned around and forced a smile to your face, “I haven’t been around. It’s my first day, actually. But glad to have you back, you had a lot of people worried about you.”

“You here to patch us up?” He tilted his head, and you knew exactly what Steve meant when he told you about this James, how he was a bit of a flirt. His exact words had been he was the biggest flirt with pretty girls, but you didn’t want to over-analyze what his words to you meant.

“For now,” you spoke, and he walked beside you as you made your way to the back of the tent. “I’m just a temporary replacement. I shouldn’t be here more than a week.”

“That’s too bad,” He hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

Your interest was piqued. “Why is that?”

“It means I only have a week to get to know you,” he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything. This James was kind, he was nice to you. You felt sad for him, for all the things you knew he would have to endure.

When you walked past an empty bed, James stepped around you and flopped down on it, putting a hand over his mouth and pretending to cough. “Think I need you to patch me up doll.” That boyish grin was back, and you ignored the feelings that came with it.

“I— weren’t you and Captain Rogers brought to that other tent and taken care of right away?” You stood with your arms crossed, raising your eyebrows.

“Nope.”

“So that wasn’t you guys?” You’d seen him walking into that tent, so you knew it was him. But you wanted to see where he was headed with this.

He shook his head. “Sorry, must have me confused with some other guy. Although I gotta say, I’m a little hurt.”

This trip was going to be the death of you.

“Alright,” you grabbed a washcloth and quickly wet it, ringing it out as you made your way back to James. “Can you sit up Sergeant Barnes?”

“My friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh friends already, are we Bucky?” It amazed you that his confidence didn’t even falter for a second.

Hearing his name come out of your mouth was a sound he knew he’d never get over. “Of course we are. I’ve known you for a whole ten minutes, I’d say we’re practically best friends now.”

You shook your head, failing to contain your laughter. “What will Captain Rogers think when he finds out you’ve replaced him?”

“Captain who?” He shrugged again.

“Hold still for me will you?” You brought the damp cloth up to his face and began to clean some of the dried blood off.

“Anything for you doll.”

God the next week better go by fast, you didn’t think you could handle much more of him being nice to you. As you cleaned his face, Bucky closed his eyes, leaning back on the pillow and sighing with content. It had been a long time since anyone was this gentle with him.

“Are you alright Ser—” you stopped when Bucky opened one eye to look at you, “Bucky?”

He nodded, closing his eyes once again. “I’m better now.”

After you were done helping him clean up as best you could, Steve entered the tent, calling out for his best friend. He slowed his pace when he saw Bucky talking to you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Captain Rogers, it’s alright, we were just finishing up weren’t we?” You stepped aside so that Bucky could walk past you.

“Oh please, call me Steve. And it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

“If I call you Steve, then you have to call me by my first name,” you introduced yourself, and marveled at how he looked so different, yet also so similar to the Steve you knew.

Steve held out his hand, and after you shook it, Bucky jokingly punched him in the shoulder. “Alright back off will ya’ punk? Now what’d you need me for?”

“The guys were just asking where you were.”

Bucky was silently cursing Steve for coming in to pull him away from you. He was partly still stuck on the fact that you were only going to be there for a week.

“I’ll come find you later,” he winked before turning around and following Steve out of the tent, who also waved before leaving.

It ended up being a busy night for the men that returned to camp, and an even crazier next day. So it wasn’t until 2 days later that you encountered Bucky again. You’d just walked out of the makeshift ‘hospital’, and were heading back to Peggy’s tent for a much needed break. You were a few steps from entering when you felt an arm around your shoulders.

“Miss me?” Bucky grinned, already leading you away from the tent.

You hated to admit it, but you did. Your short interaction with him on the first day was so different from the interactions with James, the one you knew. You’d come to think of that man as James, and the one that stood to your left, as Bucky. He was so warm and friendly towards you. The worst part was, you couldn’t be mad at James for how he treated you. When you thought about it, with all that he had been through, you knew he must’ve had his reasons.

As you walked to wherever Bucky was leading you, you were both thinking of the fact that your time together was limited. You weren’t feeling 100%, but you were starting to feel a little better each day. And you knew that the longer you stayed in the past and got to know this Bucky, the more it would hurt when you had to leave and go home to the James that seemed to hate you. So last night you limited yourself, but you were a little selfish in giving yourself an extra couple of days. Today should make 5 days until you return home, but you stretched it to 7. You told yourself it was because you wanted to make sure you recovered properly.

“So where are you from?” Bucky finally broke the silence after the 2 of you had been walking aimlessly around the camp for a few minutes.

“Upstate New York,” as soon as those 3 words left your mouth, you panicked a little. You should’ve said another place, literally any other state than the one Bucky was from. Another tricky thing you hadn’t thought of, how to answer questions. You couldn’t tell Bucky that you were actually from Brooklyn, because you knew that’s where he lived too, and he’d surely ask for specifics if he found out you were from the same town. But why did you have to say New York??

“D’you work at a hospital there?”

“Am I being interviewed, Sergeant Barnes?” You laughed, wondering where he was headed with this.

Your question caused Bucky to blush. He didn’t want to admit that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he was constantly stuck on the fact that your time together was extremely limited. So if you worked in New York and it was somewhere near Brooklyn, it would be a lot easier for him to come see you whenever he was home. He thought to himself, I’ve only known this woman for a few days, what is she doing to me?

“Sorry if I seem nosy, just want to know how far I’ll have to travel to visit you when I’m home,” he shrugged, figuring what the hell, he might as well go for it.

If hearts could physically shatter, you were pretty sure yours would have done so right then and there. Maybe staying a full week is a bad idea. You know you’ll regret this, but you’re hoping it’ll ease some of the pain, maybe lessen the sting a little.

Before you can overthink it too much, you give Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek. “That’s very sweet of you, Bucky, and I would love for you to come visit me, but I’m a traveling nurse. I’m never in one place for very long. I… I won’t be back in New York for a long time.”

You’ve both stopped walking at this point, and you look down. Worried that he upset you, Bucky puts an arm around you and begins walking again. “Then I guess we’ll just have to spend as much time together as possible, won’t we?”

That’s exactly what the 2 of you did. You couldn’t neglect your duties as a nurse (even if you were technically just posing as one) so you spent at least a few hours every day helping to take care of the wounded men.

Since Bucky only just got back from basically being held captive and tortured, he was pretty much being given a break. Which meant his days were completely free. He never wanted to bother you while you were working, but once you were done for the day he’d be right next to you.

Of course, you worried about what to do and say when you had to leave. What if Bucky asked you for your next temporary address so that he could write to you? How were you supposed to tell him that once you left, you’d never see each other again? Part of you wanted to distance yourself, so that you leaving might not hurt as much.

But one evening when you were sat with Bucky, Steve, and the other guys and Bucky had gotten up to go get something to drink, Steve thanked you for being so nice to his best friend. He mentioned that he thought it would be a long time before he saw him smile like that after all he’d just gone through. So there was that, and the fact that you knew what he was about to go through, so if you could bring him even just a little bit of happiness, then you’d do it. Even if it meant breaking your heart in the process.

When you’re down to just 4 days left until you go back to your time, Peggy surprises you by telling you that you weren’t needed as a nurse anymore.

Seeing the panic on your face, she smiled and brushed it off. “Not to worry, you’ll still be allowed to stay here, but apparently the request for a new nurse was put in early, and she’s just arrived.”

“Oh, so do I—”

“Just focus on resting so that you’re able to make the journey home. And I’m not blind, go spend time with Sergeant Barnes.”

You sighed, sitting down at the edge of the temporary bed in Peggy’s tent. “Do you think I’m hurting him more, by spending so much time with him?”

She considered it for a moment before sitting down next to you. “You’ll be here either way, whether you spend time with him or not. I think it would be worse if you just ended… whatever you have with him, and then you were forced to see each other everyday. What did you tell him about you leaving?”

“He asked if he could visit me when I let it slip that I was from New York. I had to lie, I said I was a traveling nurse and am never in one place for too long, and that I wouldn’t be back in New York for a while.”

“I think whatever you end up doing will be the right thing. All that you’ve done, it’s a lot. And I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through and the decisions you’ve had to make. I’m assuming this is the first time in a while that you’ve had to relax?” When you nod, she continues, “and Steve has talked a bit about you and Sergeant Barnes, I think this time together is good for both of you. Before you go back to your time, and he goes back to fighting the war.”

“Doll? You in there?” You stand up and smooth out the dress that you’d just changed into before thanking Peggy and exiting the tent. When Bucky sees you, he can’t help but stare a little. “Wow, you’re beautiful.”

“You look very handsome Sergeant Barnes,” you smile, admiring his dress uniform.

“I thought about changing before I came to see you, didn’t want to wait. I just went to talk to some people about where we’re going next, had to look nice.” Before you can respond, he speaks up again. “Can I take you somewhere?”

You looked down at your dress, then back up at Bucky. “Should I change first?”

“No, what you’re wearing is perfect.” He holds his arm out, and you once again push away the feelings that come when you link you arm with his.

You walk just outside of the camp, and a little off to the side. He points just off into the distance, and you instantly see what he’s referring to. A soft gasp escapes as you approach the patch of flowers.

“Sometimes when I need to clear my head, I’ll leave the camp and just wander around. Not too far, but I found this area one day. It hasn’t rained much lately so I’ve been coming to water them once a day,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but seeing the smile on your face, he’s proud.

You bend down, gently running your hands over the tops of the flowers, soft enough that you don’t damage any of them. After a minute you sit, careful that you’re not actually on top of any. Bucky watches you for a moment. A week ago he had no idea you existed, and he already couldn’t imagine not knowing you. He still wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to you so soon.

After another moment, he joins you in sitting on the grass. He picks a handful of flowers and begins carefully weaving them together by the stems. Once he ties the ends together, he places the flower crown on your head.

(((okay so i know this one is complicated to make and it’s unrealistic that someone could make this quickly but i saw this on pinterest and fell in love with the thought. so this is what bucky places on your head 🥰)))

“Beautiful,” he looks at you in awe, and you’re blushing, thinking of the fact that it’s the second time he called you that today.

“You’re a man of many talents,” you reach up to touch the crown, heart swelling at the gesture.

Bucky gets a big smile on his face, “my sister taught me when I was a lot younger.”

Although you knew he had a sister, since you didn’t talk to James, this was the first time hearing about his family.

The rest of the day is spent laying in the small field of flowers, lots of laughter as you both trade stories about your lives. Hearing about how happy he was, and seeing how carefree the man in front of you is, makes you heart break even more for the one back in your time.

At one point, you ask if you should go back incase someone notices the 2 of you missing and gets worried, but Bucky says that he told Steve where he was bringing you. Eventually once the sun begins to set, you both stand up and slowly make your way back to camp. As you walk through, you realize it must be time for dinner since everyone seems to be scrambling around, and you hear talk of food.

Bucky puts his hand on your back as he walks next to you, and you feel yet another piece of your heart break. You know you can’t stay, but you have a bad feeling that leaving is going to ruin you.

The next day, Bucky ends up being busy for most of the day. He absolutely hates it, and spends a lot of time wishing that the work day was over already. The fact that you’ll be gone in a few days hasn’t left his mind.

You spend quite a lot of time with Peggy, and your heart aches at what she’s going to have to go through.

Around 5:30, Peggy is called away from her tent. You take the opportunity to change into one of her dresses that she oddly insist that you wear this evening.

At exactly 6pm, you learn both why she was called away, and why you had to wear the dress. As you’re walking and talking, you were so caught up in conversation that it isn’t until you stop, that you realize you’re in front of Bucky’s tent.

“Go on,” Peggy holds one of the tent flaps back, motioning for you to go inside.

You could cry at the sight in front of you. Everything had been pushed to the side, and in the center of the tent there’s now 2 chairs, and a table with 2 plates of food and a candle in the middle.

“What’s all this?” You smile as you approach Bucky, suddenly feeling incredibly shy.

“Hear me out doll,” he clears his throat, clearly nervous. “I know you leave in a few days, but the time I’ve gotten to spend with you has meant the world to me. The fighting, the war, it’s pure chaos. But getting to take this little break and just be with you, even if we don’t end up seeing each other ever again, I’m going to remember this time with you for the rest of my life. And I figured I had to take you on a date at least once before you go.”

Your eyes fill with tears, and Bucky steps forward, gently putting his hands on your face. You look up at him in adoration, and he swears he’d stop time and just live in that moment with you forever if he could.

“I don’t mean to upset you. I know our time is limited, so I just want to make the most of it. We’ve known each other nearly a week and I still haven’t taken you out on a date. Figured if it’s gonna be the only one, I’d try to make it perfect.” He pulls out a chair for you, and you again try to ignore the butterflies. You both know you’ve got less than 72 hours together, and you can’t help but wonder why he’s putting in all of this effort knowing that you won’t see each other again.

You’re both unaware of the effect tonight will have. After this Bucky falls and gets captured, he won’t have many periods of time where he remembers who he is. But during the few that he does have, he’ll think about this moment, and many others that he shared with you. And he’ll think about how maybe, if he makes it out of this, he can find you again.

Dinner lasts over an hour, you both laugh and trade more stories about childhood. You even hear a new embarrassing story that you can’t wait to tease Steve about when you get home.

Bucky bribed the chow hall to do something a little fancy for the 2 of you, and as you’re sitting there, it’s easy to pretend that you’re on an actual normal date, not spending your last days together in the middle of a war.

You think yet again how the James you know isn’t fond of you, but maybe when you see each other again, you’ll make more of an effort to be kinder to him. Even if he doesn’t want to talk to you, he can at least know that you’re there if he ever needs someone to talk to.

“I know it’s getting late, but I do have a couple more surprises before I walk you back to Peggy’s tent,” he smiles, getting up and holding a hand out to help you out of your seat. He leads you over to a corner of his tent, where for the first time you notice the small table that houses a record player on top of it. “I noticed one of the Colonel’s had this in his tent, guess it’s a luxury if you’re a high enough rank. Anyway, I told him I wanted to do something special and he let me borrow this for the night. I don’t know what record this is but I was assured that it’s perfect for a dance.”

“A dance,” you say softly, smiling as you watch Bucky nervously move the needle onto the record.

When the music starts softly playing, you both put your arms around each other, not so much dancing but more so swaying to the music. For the entirety of the first song, you’re both silent, enjoying this time with each other.

(((this is the song i’m imagining playing. i’ve referenced it in my other works but it’s so romantic and i just adgahsdg;asdfjasdg. it’s put your head on my shoulder’s by paul anka. i highly recommend listening if you haven’t before!)))

((((put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms baby, squeeze me oh-so-tight, show me that you love me too / put your lips next to mine dear. won’t you kiss me once baby, just a kiss goodnight maybe, you and i will fall in love / people say that love’s a game, a game you just can’t win. if there’s a way i’ll find it someday, and then this fool will rush in / put your head on my shoulder. whisper in my ear, baby, words i want to hear, tell me. tell me that you love me too / put your head on my shoulder. whisper in my ear, baby, words i want to hear, baby, put your head on my shoulder))))

You ‘dance’ to a couple more songs, and when the third song finishes, he looks down at you just as you look up at him, and you both know that he has to walk you back to Peggy’s tent or things might happen. And as much as you both want them to, the fact that you’re leaving soon is still heavy on your minds.

When you reach Peggy’s tent, Bucky gently grabs your hand to stop you before you can go inside. Of course you were going to say goodnight to him first, but you find it cute that he wanted to make sure.

“I know this may be too fast, but there’s something that I want you to have, doll.” He reaches into his pocket, holding something in his closed fist. “Every soldier is given two sets. And I know that when you leave, we’ll have had less than two weeks together. But I gotta tell you, even before the war, this has still been the greatest time in my life. Being with you, I’m able to just be Bucky and not Sergeant Barnes. You’ve helped me forget about the bad things going on. I know that come three days from now, we’ll never see each other again, so I want you to take a piece of me with you.” He uncurls his fist, and you’re met with the sight of his dog tags.

“Bucky, I— are you sure?”

He nods, fiddling with the tags between his fingers. “I know you see a lot of bad things too. Maybe if you keep these with you, when things are tough, you can look at them and remember our time together, when things were good. I know I will,” he pulls the ones he’s wearing from under his shirt, “knowing you’ll have the other set, when I look at them I won’t think of the war, I’ll think of you.”

You turn around and pull your hair to one side, and Bucky’s heart swells with pride as he unclasps the chain and puts it on you. When you turn back around, seeing James B. Barnes on a silver chain around your neck, he swears if the world ended right now, he’d die a happy man.

“Goodnight doll,” he steps forward, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I may be pushing my luck but do you wanna join us for breakfast in the morning? Steve keeps asking me about you, and I, uhh—”

He’s cute when he’s nervous, you think to yourself. Feeling a moment of bravery wash over you, you lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’d love to. Goodnight Bucky, see you tomorrow.”

When you wake up the next morning, there’s a pit in your stomach. Less than 48 hours before you go home, before you say goodbye to the Bucky you’ve grown quite fond of. Getting dressed in the morning, you smile to yourself as you put the dog tags back on, putting your dress on after. You don’t know if Bucky would be comfortable with everyone knowing he gave them to you, but you’re happy to wear them under your dress, sure that he’ll be able to tell.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror one more time, you decide good enough, and head out in search of Bucky and Steve. When you approach the tables where all of the soldiers are eating, you hear your name being called. Before you even have a chance to see where the sound came from, Bucky jogs over, having spotted you the moment you stepped into view.

He holds his arm out, “your breakfast dates await.”

“Just how many men am I on this date with Sergeant?” You laugh, seeing all of the guys not-so-subtly stop their conversations as you approach.

Steve is the first one to get up and greet you, and then you’re introduced to everyone else. Dum Dum Dugan, Jim Morita, James Montgomery Falsworth, Gabe Jones, Jacques Dernier, Happy Sam Sawyer, Pinky Pinkerton, and Junior Juniper. You’re told that you’re looking at the men that are the Howling Commandos.

Everyone is interested in hearing about you, and it’s not long before the questions begin. They’re innocent enough, simple questions like where you’re from, but you still feel terrible about having to lie. Steve glances at you, and sensing your anxiousness, moves the conversation to the mission that they’ll all soon be going on. When you hear mentions of raiding a train in the Alps, you’re filled with dread. Part of you is relieved that you won’t be here when the remaining men return from the mission, because you don’t think you could stand to experience the loss of this Bucky in person.

“You okay doll?” You snap out of your thoughts, and notice some of the guys looking at you with concern.

“Oh yeah, sorry I was just thinking,” you shrug, trying to play it off, “I’ll be doing a lot of traveling soon and I’m just planning out my trip in my head.”

Dum Dum perks up, hearing about what you do. “Where are you headed to next?”

Thankfully you rehearsed this in your head, knowing you’d probably be asked at some point. “I actually don’t know yet. I wasn’t even supposed to come here, really, I just know Agent Carter and she called in a favor for me to fill in until another nurse arrived. I might be somewhere on the West coast? Probably won’t find out until I’m already on the way.”

Bucky leans close to you, whispering, “remind me to thank Agent Carter for calling in that favor”.

The rest of breakfast goes by too quickly for anyones liking, and part of you finds yourself wishing for more time here. You know you can’t, though, so you’re grateful for the remaining 2 days that you have left.

It’s occurred to you, that there really is no rush when it comes to you getting back. You had warned Fury that it would be about a week in the past (so a little over 24 hours for them), but you could always say you needed more time to recover. But when you learn that the Howling Commandos are leaving for the Alps just 2 days after you intend to leave, you decide it’s a good idea to still go.

Bucky is called away to discuss the mission with the guys, so you spend a bit of time with Peggy. As you learn more about her, you see why Steve wanted to stay in the past and have a life with her.

When Bucky finds you later, it’s nearly 4pm, and he hates the fact that he pretty much lost the whole day with you. But he remembers how much you loved his favorite spot, so he takes you back to the flowers just outside of the camp.

The next couple of hours are spent trading more stories about your lives. Bucky mostly talks about before the war, and you love getting to learn so much about him. As he’s telling you about how awkward he was in high school, you were surprised. The man that sat as you laid down with your head in his lap was so charming and funny. You had a hard time believing that he wasn’t always like this.

“Trust me sweetheart, I may have carried myself with confidence but the girls seemed to see right through that.” He tried not to show just how happy it made him to hear you call him charming and funny. I only have her here for 2 more days, he kept repeating to himself. But who was he kidding, he was already attached.

The next day, AKA your final day before returning back to your timeline, you and Peggy discuss exactly when you’ll leave. It’s almost noon, and part of you is sad that Bucky has been busy all morning, but you can’t complain considering you’re still in the middle of a war.

“I think I should technically do it tonight, or really early tomorrow morning long before anyone even gets up. I can’t risk someone see me go into your tent and then never come out, I don’t know how you’ll explain that. I’ll sleep with your alarm clock under my pillow and set it for… maybe like three in the morning?”

Peggy nods, “I can’t believe you’re leaving already. It’s been nice having another woman around, normally surrounded by nothing but men. Will you be alright once you get back?”

You shrug, having thought about that last night too. “Unfortunately since not many people can do what I can do, it’s not an exact science. It’ll be a lot better since I spent time here and allowed my body to rest. Last time I traveled back and then immediately went home, it took me days to feel like my normal self again. I’ll probably still need time to rest when I get home but hopefully it won’t take as long.”

“Actually, you don’t have to worry about someone noticing you enter the tent and then suddenly disappear. I have a friend who owes me a favor and I think I should ask him to meet us, like you said really late tonight which will technically be early tomorrow morning. He can drive us somewhere else, that way the story can be that I dropped you off somewhere.”

“But, this friend. he knows—”

“About enhanced individuals? Yes, he was instrumental in Project Rebirth and was there when Steve was given the serum.”

(((hehehe guess whooooo)))

This surprised you, you knew there were only a few possible people that it could…

“Howard Stark?”

She nods, “have you met him before? You mentioned that the people you work with know him?”

“N-no, I just… I know his s—stories, I’ve just heard lots of stories about him that’s all.” You didn’t want to tell her that you knew his son, or what you knew about his untimely death.

“Oh, well I’m sure he’ll be very excited to meet you. I should go call him now, I’ll be right back.” She excuses herself from her tent, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

How has the past week gone by so quickly? It genuinely seems like you just got here. And now, you feel a little heartbroken yet again. You can’t stay here, this isn’t your time, the man you’ve been spending so much time with isn’t your James / Bucky. Even if you were to stay, you’d only get an extra 2 days with him before you’d have to watch Steve, Peggy, and everyone else mourn his ‘death’. And if you were to come back to the exact time you’d arrived, though it would be to this same timeline, you’d have to introduce yourself to Bucky all over again because he’d have no memory of you.

“Doll?”

You instantly perked up at the sound of his voice. Looking in the mirror, you quickly wiped your tears away and put a little more powder on your face. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been crying. “Just a moment!” You called out. After being sure that he wouldn’t be able to tell you were just moping around thinking about leaving him, you stepped out of the tent.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, ignoring his nerves as he pulled you into his arms for a hug. You weren’t the only one that was moping around thinking about your last day. He still didn’t understand the whole traveling nurse thing and why that meant you couldn’t keep in touch, but he didn’t want to pressure you.

“Thank you sarge, you don’t look so bad yourself. Actually, can you help me?” You held his dog tags up, turning around and moving your hair to the side while he unclasped the chain. That same sense of pride and happiness filled him when you turned around and he saw you wearing them.

“I know it’s your last day and all, and I was hoping to come see you earlier but I got caught up with stuff with the guys. Are you busy right now?”

“No, Peggy just went to go call Howard about picking us up but that’s not until way later.”

You noticed the sadness in his eyes, despite how much he tried to hide it. “What time do you leave?”

Now, you were unsure of what to say. What if he asked to come with you?

“I’m not exactly sure, I think pretty early tomorrow morning like before you all get up. Just so that Peggy can be back in time before the work day starts.”

Bucky was secretly hoping that something would happen and you wouldn’t need to leave just yet. One week wasn’t nearly enough time with you. And if you asked Steve, it was not-so-secretly. The other super soldier listened to his best friend mope almost every night after Bucky would walk you back to Peggy’s tent.

“Well since you’re free right now, come on, I’ve got lunch plans for us.”

“Oh?” You laughed, linking your arm through his as you walked to his tent. He stepped inside, returning a moment later with a picnic basket. “Managed to steal this from someone, and I bribed the kitchen workers for extra food. Want to go to our spot one last time?”

Hearing him say one last time made you sad, and Bucky immediately noticed the look on your face, so he threw an arm around you and began to lead you just outside the camp. “None of that now, we’ll make today one to remember.”

And the 2 of you did. He ended up going back in his tent for a blanket to lay on the grass, and then you 2 spent the afternoon making each other flower crowns, talking about anything and everything under the sun. There was 1 subject that was avoided, but you were trying not to think about that.

“I hate that time always go by faster when you have fun,” you sigh, helping Bucky put everything back in the picnic basket as you both decided to head back to the camp. Bucky mentioned that he had one more surprise in store. He wouldn’t give you any details about what it was, just that he’d pick you up outside of Peggy’s tent once the sun went down.

“I know sweetheart, me too. But the day isn’t over yet,” he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then grabbed the picnic basket with one hand, and held your hand in the other one. You looked down at your intertwined fingers, and felt sad for Bucky. You knew that nothing you did now would change his fate. And you couldn’t help but think of the fact that the very hand you were holding would soon be replaced by one made of metal. When he looked at you, you replaced your frown with a smile and were thankful that he didn’t comment on that. He must just think you’re sad about leaving.

As you made the very short walk back to the camp, Bucky asked if you’d like to have dinner with the guys one more time before you go. You immediately say yes, not only loving that you get to spend so much time with this Bucky and Steve, but you also love getting to know everyone else too. The Howling Commandos are legends, and it was nice to put faces and personal stories to the names.

Dinner ended up lasting over 2 hours, and you spent a lot of that time just soaking up the moments, already missing them as they slipped by. At one point Bucky put his arm around you and asked if you were alright. You assured him that you were, you were just really happy to be there with everyone.

Towards the end, everyone went around talking about the life they envisioned for themselves after the war was over. When Steve said he hoped to settle down, get married, and start a family, it was no secret who he was referring to even though they didn’t know each other that well yet.

“How long do you plan on being a traveling nurse?” Morita asked you. It was your turn now, and you felt a little awkward having to lie and say you didn’t know what life would look like for you since you’d be moving from hospital to hospital for quite a long time.

“Oh, I hope to be doing this for a while. It pays a lot better than being a nurse stationed at just one single hospital, so I’m going to do this for as long as I can and save up as much as possible. It’ll be crazy, moving around every couple of months, but hopefully the pay makes it worth it.” It went without saying that you wouldn’t be ‘settling down’ for a long time.

By the time everyone went their separate ways, the sun had already set. So you and Bucky parted ways momentarily, with him saying that he’d see you outside of Peggy’s tent in a few minutes.

You rushed to change into more comfortable, and warmer, clothing, and stepped out of the tent just in time to see Bucky approaching, with a blanket in one hand.

“Shall we?” He held his other hand out to you, and began leading you away from the camp. Instead of going near the flowers like you usually did, he walked in the opposite direction just a few feet away from where the trees ended. He spread the blanket out on the grass, and shyly explained he thought you might like to look at the stars together before you have to go.

For the first few minutes, you just lay next to each other, looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry I have to leave,” you finally break the silence. That one sentence has been on your mind all day.

Bucky rolls over and props himself up with his arms, and his face is now just inches from yours. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I’m really proud of you, you know? You’re going to leave this place and go on to do so many amazing things and save so many lives. Who knows, maybe we will get to see each other again someday in the future. But even if we don’t, this time with you has done more for me than you realize. If the time that I’ve spent with you so far is all that I get, I’ll still be a very happy man.”

Tears fill your eyes, and you force yourself to look up at the sky as you try to gather your thoughts, and think about how to respond. Bucky puts a hand on your cheek and gently guides you to look back at him.

“I’m sorry for making you cry again sweetheart, I just want you to know that it’s okay. The past week with you has meant so much to me. And sure, I wish we had more time together, but getting to be with you right now, that’s more than good enough for me.”

You’re still unsure of how to respond without breaking down and telling him everything, so you settle for turning your head and kissing Bucky’s hand. As he looks at you, he’s trying to memorize every single detail, but he already knows he won’t forget. He has a feeling that as much as he wishes it would end up different, that this will be the last time he gets to see you.

“You okay?” You ask after a minute. You’d turned back to look at the stars, but when you glanced at him again, Bucky was still looking at you with a small smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he nods, “sorry if I’m being a creep. It’s just from this angle, with you looking up at the sky, you have stars in your eyes. I like looking at them.” He has once again managed to leave you speechless.

After that, you don’t exchange many words. Bucky lays back down, this time a lot closer to you. You’re a little shy when you reach your hand out, but he notices and immediately takes your hand in his. You’re both enjoying these last moments with each other, so much so that it’s nearly midnight by the time you’re folding up the blanket and heading back to the camp.

When you reach Peggy’s tent, neither of you really know what to say. You can’t help but think this is it. I’ll never see this Bucky again.

Before his emotions get the best of him, Bucky drops the blanket at his feet and pulls you into his arms. He both loves and hates how it feels to hold you. Loves it, because in such a short time, you already feel like home. You make him feel cared for, and safe. But he hates it because he knows that he won’t get to do this again.

The 2 of you stand there for a few minutes, or it could be a lot longer, neither of you really knows. When you do finally pull apart, neither of you says anything at first.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you give him a kiss on the cheek. “This time with you has meant everything to me too. Life before this was really crazy. And I have no doubt that it’ll only get crazier from here. But you’ve given me memories and stories that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life. And if I’m feeling sad, or anxious, or scared, I can just look down,” you pull the dog tags from under your shirt, “and think of you”.

“God, doll, what are you doing to me?” There’s a very brief moment where as Bucky looks at you, he considers kissing you. But you’re leaving soon, and he isn’t sure how you’d react anyway, so he settles for one more hug before telling you goodnight and heading back to his tent.

As you listen to him walk away, it takes everything in you not to burst into tears. But Peggy is sleeping less than 2 feet away from you, and you don’t want to disturb her, or risk waking her and having her ask questions. What could you even say? By some miracle, you manage to fall asleep. You ended up staying in the same clothes, realizing it would be pointless to change into pajamas since you’d be getting up in a few short hours away.

At 4am on the dot, Peggy is gently nudging you awake. “I turned off the alarm, figured we could sleep a little longer. The higher ups usually get up around 4:45 to prepare for the day. I figured we should be gone before they even wake up, so Howard is going to meet us at 4:15 just outside the camp.”

You rub yours eyes as you nod and slowly stand up, taking your time as you gather your things. You don’t have much though, and in just a few short minutes you’re ready to leave. After changing back into the same outfit you wore when you first arrived, Peggy hands over a big file, and you begin to walk to where you’re meant to meet Howard.

As you’re exiting the tent, you laugh and admit to her that having spent so much time here, you’d forgotten about why you came and probably would’ve left the folder if she hadn’t just given it to you.

“Hey doll, wait up!” You both pause and see Bucky jogging over from his tent.

“I’ll meet you at the front,” Peggy gives your arm a reassuring squeeze, then continues on her way.

Bucky pauses when he finally reaches you, taking a few seconds to catch his breath. He actually also set his alarm for 4am, determined to say goodbye to you one more time. He thought he’d end up sitting around waiting until he heard you leave, and he didn’t think you’d be going until closer to 5, so he ended up scrambling to change and make sure he looked half decent before he rushed to meet you.

“Just wanted to say goodbye one more time,” he suddenly feels shy as he’s speaking to you. “And I know we said everything last night, but I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t do this before you were gone.” He puts one arm around your waist, causing you to step closer. The other hand, he rests on the back of your head. “Can I kiss you?”

Stunned into silence yet again, all you can do is nod. The kiss is sweet, and gentle. You get a glimpse at what it would be like to be with Bucky romantically. It pains you that you can’t stay, and that even if you did, you wouldn’t have a future with him.

“I know you have to go, but I just wanted to do that at least once.” He smiles, leaning down so that your foreheads are touching.

“Thank you, for everything,” feeling a sudden wave of bravery wash over you, you give him one more kiss. “This time with you has meant the world to me.” You pull the dog tags from under his shirt, and tap them. “Don’t forget about me, okay?”

“I could never forget about you even if I tried. I’ll remember you for the rest of my life.”

After one more hug, Bucky watches as you turn and walk away. He finds himself wishing for more time with you. As much as he hoped it would happen, he knows it can’t. Just before you step completely out of view, you turn around and wave to him before forcing yourself to continue walking. It’s only then that Bucky finally heads back to his tent, though he knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep.

You finally approach Peggy and Howard, the latter immediately rushing over and shaking your hand. You can tell he has lots of questions, and Peggy insists that you sit up front. As she gets into the back seat, she jokingly apologizes.

The journey is short, only 15 minutes. But Howard spends the entire time asking questions, and talking a bout what he hopes to accomplish in the future. At one point, he asks how you got your powers. You settle for telling him that you were experimented on. You don’t tell him the full truth, knowing nothing good could come from him knowing that the men who did this to you were trying to re-do Project Rebirth for their own selfish reasons.

He seems to just accept that answer, right away moving on to asking about what other powers you have. Once he parks the car, you raise your left hand, energy glowing around it a second later, and remove his sunglasses from his head and place them on yours. He looks like his head is about to explode. You remove the sunglasses and try to hand them back to him, but he insists that you keep them because “that was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen”.

After spending a few more minutes talking about the future (with you trying to be as vague and give as little details as possible), Peggy finally speaks u and says that as much as she hates to interrupt Howard’s intense questioning, they’d better go soon before the camp is fully awake in less than an hour.

She pulls you in for a hug, whispering that you better be careful. Howard shakes your hand again, and says that if you ever feel like taking another trip to the past, he’d love to pick your brain.

You smile as you look at them both, grateful you got the chance to spend time with them. After saying your final goodbyes, you take a few steps back, close your eyes, and concentrate on going home.

To everyone else, you were only gone just under 36 hours. And because you left in the evening, it’s now extremely early in the morning just a day and a half later. You were planning on heading straight to bed and finding everyone else maybe in a few hours after you had a chance to rest, but when the elevator doors open and you look up to see Bruce and Dr. Cho heading towards you, you weren’t surprised.

“We had F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert me of any activity on your floor,” Bruce says, knowing what you were about to ask. He puts an arm around you and begins to lead you towards the elevators. As Dr. Cho begins asking questions about how you were feeling and what side effects you dealt with when you first arrived back in 1945, you know you’re being taken to the medical floor of the compound. Bruce starts to say that he’s going to tell Fury that you can’t go back that far anymore, but you insist that you’re fine. And while it might be too painful to go back and see Bucky, especially since you’d have to go way back to before he met you, you think it might actually be nice to take a somewhat casual trip back, if only to let Howard quiz you about the future.

20 minutes later, Dr. Cho concludes her exam on you and determines that as long as you’re sure you’re feeling okay, all you should need is some rest.

Just as she exits the room, Rhodey enters and tells Bruce that he needs to run a few tests on you. You allow them to put a head piece on you and you lay back as he monitors your brain activity as he asks simple questions about your journey back. He then takes a few blood samples, and you listen as he and Bruce discuss what they might find.

You were a little groggy and maybe also mentally and physically drained, but that was to be expected. This wasn’t nearly as bad as when New Hydra forced you to travel for them, and you know that you did the right thing spending a week in the past.

Fury enters the room just as Bruce and Rhodey are wrapping up, and he asks for a moment alone with you. You hand over the file from Peggy, and he flips it open, looking at a couple of pages before closing it, satisfied with whatever he saw.

He then asks you a few questions, mostly things that Dr. Cho already covered. You’re surprised when he ends the conversation, telling you to get some rest, and that he has informed the team that you’ll have the next 7 days off to rest and recover before they’re allowed to send you on missions.

Same as when you spoke to everyone else about rest, you try to protest. But one stern look from Fury shuts you right up.

“You’re a valuable asset to this team,” Fury puts a hand on your shoulder. “We don’t want you going into the field too soon. Take a little break”.

He gets into the elevator with you, but stays on once you get off on your floor. You’re starving, but also exhausted. So exhausted, that all you can do is go directly to your room and throw yourself onto the bed that you’ve missed. When you glance at the clock, you see it’s nearly 6am now, and you can only hope that you wake up early enough that you’ll still be able to go to sleep tonight.

When you open your eyes again, the clock reads 2:05pm. Not bad, you think to yourself. You may have to stay up a little later than normal to ensure that you wake up at a decent time, but you’re just relieved the clock doesn’t say midnight.

Just as you’re about to exit your room and head to the kitchen, a flash of silver catches your eye in your mirror reflection. You’re still wearing Bucky’s dog tags, it hadn’t even occurred to you to take them off earlier when you first came back. Realizing that you’ll probably run into James today, you force yourself to take them off, setting them down on your bedside table. He’d probably hate that there’s a version of himself that would give them to you.

Entering the kitchen, you’re surprised to see him there. Usually around this time he’d be getting in his second workout of the day. But he’s there, standing by the stove.

You pause, unsure whether you should still make yourself something to eat, or go back to your room and wait for James to finish up. After spending so much time with the Bucky back in 1945, you know that he’s completely separate from the man in front of you. Still, you don’t think you could handle this version hating you.

“Have you eaten yet?”

It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s speaking to you.

“U-umm, no. I actually just slept for like eight yours,” you laugh nervously as you take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Someone mentioned that Wanda was going to bring something down, so I’ll just text her.”

“She already did,” he points to the stove. “Came by like an hour ago, I said I was sure you were still asleep so she just told me how to reheat this.” He scoops some of the pasta out of the pot, grabs a spoon, then slides the bowl across the counter.

What… is… happening? Is this version, James, somehow the same as the one you went to see? Why is he being so nice to you? But you were told that it was an alternate timeline, so…????

“This is probably going to sound really stupid. But do you… are you okay?”

He tilts his head, confused. “I… I think so?”

“Sorry. I just— I think this is the most we’ve spoken to each other in the entire time that I’ve known you. Not counting the grilled cheese fiasco, which I still don’t remember.” You desperately want to ask him why he’s being nice to you. But you’re worried that it would probably upset him, and even if it didn’t and he found out you spoke to a different version of him, he’d probably still have a lot of questions. “Anyway, don’t mind me. I’m just tired, think my brain may still be stuck in 1945. Thank you,” you slowly begin to eat the pasta, growing even more confused when James stays in the kitchen.

He desperately wants to speak up. Wants to ask how you’re doing, if you’re okay. And he knows you went back right before he went to the Alps and never returned. It’s on the tip of his tongue, did you see me when you were there? But before he has a chance to say anything, the elevator doors slide open and everyone comes rushing towards you.

Wanda is the first to greet you, saying she’s happy you’re back. Pietro practically shoves her out of the way and says that he’s even happier that you’re back. Sam rolls his eyes, but pulls you in for a hug, saying he’s glad you made it back safe too. At one point you make eye contact with Pepper, who mouths you okay? And you smile, giving her a thumbs up. Though you feel like you could still sleep for a full day, you’re happy to be home.

You spend a little time talking to (almost) everyone, and you genuinely appreciate how much everyone cares. Peter seems to fret over you more than most of them, asking if you need anything anytime you get up from the couch.

Eventually, Wanda shoos everyone off of your floor, insisting that you need more rest. James quietly slipped away to his room, and now just you and Pepper remain in the living room.

“I wish that he was here,” you say, wiping away a few tears. “Howard would’ve been really proud of him”.

It takes her a few seconds to realize what your sentence means.

“You saw— when?”

“Just before I came back. He’s actually the one who drove me away from the camp so that we didn’t risk anyone seeing me walk into a room and then basically vanish. I got to talk to him for just under half an hour. He actually asked me to come back to the past so that he could ask more questions about my powers and what I can do. But anyway, he talked about what he hoped to do in the future, and how proud he was of the work he’d done so far. And I think he’d be really proud if he could see everything his son accomplished.”

After she headed home to Morgan, you were unsure of what to do. You could’ve easily done what Wanda suggested and gotten more rest. But it was now 4pm and if you take another nap now, you might actually wake up at like 2am and then you’ll be wide awake.

Not really sure what else to do, after sitting on the couch for 10 minutes and not being able to find anything interesting on the TV to watch, you head back to your room.

Once you shut your door and turn around, your eyes immediately go to the dog tags on the bedside table. You pick them up before laying down on the bed, and your eyes fill with tears as you clutch the tags, holding them to your chest. A sob escapes, and you quickly cover your mouth. Just your luck, F.R.I.D.A.Y. would alert Bruce or somebody else about distress on your floor. You weren’t sure if the A.I. was listening in on private areas like bedrooms, but just to be safe.

You were unaware that the other super soldier on your floor had just exited his room. He wanted something to drink, and had just grabbed a soda from the fridge when he heard your sob. He wanted to knock on your door and ask if you were okay, but he didn’t think it was his place. After all, you talked to everyone but him when you returned, and you didn’t seem too keen on his company when he tried to talk to you earlier in the kitchen. When your cries didn’t continue, he headed back to his room.

This avoiding each other at all costs went on for nearly 2 weeks. For the first week, every night you cried yourself to sleep. Not just because you were tired, because you really were feeling better every day, but because you hated how you felt. Part of you wished that you hadn’t accepted Fury’s mission, or you wished that you had let one of the others on the team talk Fury into letting you sit this one out because you shouldn’t go back that far. Then you never would’ve met Bucky.

You kept thinking about how sad he was that you were leaving. And you replayed the memories in your mind over and over. Unable to keep your thoughts in your head anymore, you grab a blank notebook from your shelf and start writing everything down.

After writing about your ‘date’ with Bucky, you shut the book, unable to write any more. You realize that you’re not upset with James, really, you never were. But now having spent so much time with a version of him from the past, you see how happy he used to be. And your heart breaks, knowing exactly why he’s no longer that way.

But what are you supposed to do now? It’s killing you to stay away from James and not talk to him about the things past / alternate him told you. You know so much about him growing up, about his time in the war, yet you can’t talk to him about any of it.

Another week goes by, and Sam pulls you aside one night after dinner when everyone else has gone back to their floors. As you washed and he dried / put away, he asked you what was really going on.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you tried to shrug it off.

“Okay, I guess we’re playing the lying game now. I am not the most handsome man on this team. There, now I told a lie too. Now you wanna really tell me what’s bothering you?”

“How did you even—”

He shakes his head. “Ever since you’ve been back, something is off. You’re quiet, you stay in your room a lot more, and we’re worried about you. If it’s still the exhaustion from traveling so far back in time, just say the word and I promise I’ll shut up and won’t say another word about it. But I think something else happened”.

A tear falls, and you quickly wipe it away while using your other hand to reach into your front pants pocket and grab the item that you’d taken to carrying with you pretty much everywhere you went.

Sam takes it from you and turns it over in his hand, eyes widening when he sees the name on the dog tags. “Bucky gave—”

“Not him,” you point up, meaning your floor. “The Bucky from 1945. I should’ve avoided him, and Steve, too. But I was sent back the same day they returned and I guess Bucky saw me in the crowd so he found me later that day. I should’ve distanced myself, but he was so sweet to me. I almost stopped him and said he shouldn’t be, because there’s a version of him from the future that doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me.”

“Did he know you were from the future?”

“No, he didn’t even know I was enhanced. Only Peggy and Howard knew. But I spent time with him every day and on one of my last days there, he gave me his second set of dog tags. Said that he wanted me to have them so that when things get bad and he looks at them, he’ll think of me instead of the war. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with him. Yes, that Bucky Barnes wanted me to have them. But the— James, can’t stand me. And it has been the hardest thing going from what I had with Bucky to… this. Complete silence. I feel like I should give these to James,” you say as Sam places the dog tags back in your hands, “but then I’d have to explain how I got them and I don’t think I could take him being upset at the past version of himself because of me”.

Sam pulls you in for a hug, and you finally give in and allow yourself to cry about this, in front of someone else. “You should talk to him,” he speaks up after a moment. “I think maybe it could do the two of you some good”.

“What do I even say though? Hey can you please not hate me anymore?”

“I mean… why not?”

You roll your eyes and give Sam the look, causing him to back up slowly towards the elevators. “You gonna be alright if I head back to my room?”

“I’ll be fine,” you smile. “Thank you”.

“Anytime, I’m basically the best advice giver and listener on the team so, you know where to find me!”

You remain in the main living room / kitchen, head in your hands as you sit at the counter and try to think about what to do. You pull the dog tags out of your pocket, and think about looking at the stars during your last night with Bucky. You felt so peaceful.

That’s it, you think. Maybe that will cheer me up.

After making a quick stop at your floor for one of your thick blankets, you head up to the roof of the compound. Luckily it’s quiet, and there isn’t a single cloud in the sky, so you can see all the stars tonight. You hate that everything now seems to remind you of Bucky. Looking at the small garden on the roof, when you see the flowers, you think of him too.

Before you can think about it too much, you go over to the flowers and pick just a few, mentally noting to come up and plant some more soon. You go back to your blanket and sit down, carefully weaving the stems together just like he showed you.

“Oh, I didn’t realize someone else was up here.”

You were so focused that you didn’t even hear the door open and shut behind you. And you also didn’t hear James approaching. “Holy shit you scared me. Umm, I can leave though—” You begin to gather the unused flowers to put them back in the vase.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky interrupts you, suddenly desperate for you to hear him out. It has been torture seeing you avoid him since you’ve been back. You still don’t know that he knows… pretty much everything. “Please, you don’t have to go.”

Not at all prepared for that response, you sit back down.

“I know you think I hate you, but I promise you that I don’t. I just… I see how you’ve been avoiding me so I just started doing the same thing because I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable and I’m sorry if I already have.”

“I think you’re a little confused. You’re the one that hates me. Ever since you came back, at first you barely said two words to me. Then you weren’t at all subtle leaving the room whenever I entered, what else am I supposed to think?”

When your response is met with silence, you sigh. But before you can even stand up to go back inside, Bucky speaks up. “I fucked up. I was jealous of how close you were with Steve and I shouldn’t have… you didn’t deserve for me to take it out on you. I should’ve talked to Steve and told him how I felt, and you, too. I just… I didn’t know. I was here, then I was gone, then I came back and everyone said five years had gone by. I thought there was no way that was true, it had to be some sort of sick joke. But it wasn’t, and everything was different. I was jealous.”

“Of me??”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a seat next to you on the blanket. “I’ve done a lot of messed up things, I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. But I’ve been trying really hard to be a better person. I guess part of me is still convinced that everyone on the team hates me and only tolerates me because of Steve. So when I saw you, and you’d only been on the team for what, half a decade, and they already all loved you? I don’t know, I just— I know I messed up.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you say softly, looking down. “Do I wish that you had come and talked to me? Of course. But I can see why it would’ve been hard for you. So you don’t have to be sorry”.

“You forgive me?”

Still unable to look at him, your eyes remain down as you shrug. “It might take some time, but yeah, I do. I just… feel different now, about life, I guess. I don’t see the point in being upset at you, especially not when I now know why you’ve been acting the way that you have”.

Now he feels even worse. How are you so nice to him after how he treated you?

Knowing that you were probably a little uncomfortable like he was, Bucky tries to change the subject. When he sees the flowers you were holding, his face lights up. He takes a few of them and begins weaving the stems together, just like his sister taught him a long time ago. “I used to be really good at this,” he mumbles, finding that maybe he doesn’t remember how. But you can tell by him biting his lip and the look of determination on his face, that he’s gonna keep trying until he gets it.

“Didn’t she say you were supposed to alternate flower colors?” You freeze instantly, realizing what you just said. This James never told you that his sister was the one who taught him. Fuck.

“How did you—”

You quickly stand up, suddenly needing to go back to your room. “I’m actually feeling pretty tired so I think I’m gonna go to bed. Night James”. Without waiting for a reply, you turn around and head back into the compound, going straight for the elevators. Once you’re back on the fourth floor, you go to your room and shut the door. When you don’t hear James returning to the floor after a few minutes, you let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe he didn’t catch on, or he assumed that Steve told you. You’re of course unaware of the fact that Steve didn’t even know. After a few more minutes of debating on what to do, you settle for taking a shower. You really do still feel exhausted and wouldn’t mind going to bed early tonight. Plus, the hot water always calmed you down.

Although the rest of your body wouldn’t mind going to bed, your brain clearly didn’t get the memo. It’s now 11pm and you’ve been laying in bed wide awake for over an hour.

“If I’m going to be awake, I might as well get something to eat,” you mumble to yourself, finally getting out of bed. You open your door, and end up walking directly into James. Letting out a little yelp as you stumble back, he reaches out to steady you on your feet. “Wh-what are young doing? Did you knock? I didn’t—”

“No,” he shakes his head, “not yet. I was still trying to work up the courage to.”

“Oh… well… did you need something?”

“How did you know?”

You wonder if you should lie. “Know what?”

“Please, how did you know my sister was the one that taught me?”

There’s no going back from this. You’ll tell him everything, and he’ll probably get upset at the version of himself that was nice to you. He follows you to the living room, and you both take a seat on opposite ends of the couch. “You told me”.

“I— I told you?”

“Not you, I mean, Bucky in 1945. I saw y—him, when I went back. And he told me.”

“Was it actually me though? I don’t remember…” He looks away, trying to see if he can force the memories to his mind.

You shake your head. “No. It was a past alternate version of you, that’s why you don’t remember. When I had to go back to get the files from Peggy, it turned out to be the same day that you, Steve, and all the other guys returned from…”

“When Steve saved me,” he whispers.

“Yeah. I was stupid and I should’ve avoided everyone except Peggy, just kept my head down. But the first day I was there…”

“What did I—he, do?”

“Oh, nothing. He just introduced himself. And I tried to refer to yo—him, as Sergeant Barnes, because I was meant to be posing as a nurse so it was also as a professional courtesy, but he insisted that I call him Bucky because all your friends did, and he said that after ten minutes we were already practically best friends. I didn’t see him the next day but then I did pretty much every day after that, he was very persistent.”

James sat there, processing everything that you just told him. He doesn’t doubt it for a second, remembering how he was back then, he knows that’s exactly something he’d say if he saw a pretty nurse. “And the flower crowns?”

“It was like my fourth day there. He found me one day and said he wanted to show me something just outside of the camp. We sat by the flowers for the entire afternoon, and he made me a crown. I made one too, but mine didn’t look nearly as nice.” Though you’re not sure you can handle the answer, you ask the question that’s been on your mind anyway. “Are you mad?”

“Mad?”

“That I spent so much time with a past version of you.”

“Why would I be mad?”

You hadn’t really planned on having this conversation tonight, but here it is. “Because you—”

“I thought you were scared of me, now, after I was an asshole to you. I swear to you doll, I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever did. I was just mad, and confused, at the world, really. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. And like I was trying to explain earlier on the roof, I’m trying to be a better person and make amends for the things I’ve done wrong, the things the Winter Soldier did. You’re the first person I want to apologize to, because you didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you when I first got back. So I’m sorry.”

“You’re not him.”

“What?”

“You’re not the Winter Soldier. You weren’t in control, HYDRA was. You don’t have to apologize for the things he did, because you had no say. I— how much do you know, about me?”

He knows exactly what you’re referring to. But it wasn’t a conversation he was meant to hear. “I know that Steve and Natasha rescued you, and that you’ve stayed with the team ever since…” He trails off, not really sure what else to add.

“That’s true, but there’s a lot more to it than that. I think part of the reason that Steve and I grew so close was because of where he found me when I was rescued. I don’t know if they told you because the program got shut down, the members are all either dead or they’ll be in prison until they are dead. But I was with New Hydra. I was the first new Winter Soldier. I was with them for less than a year, but I remember a lot. They didn’t always put us in cryo after missions. I blamed myself, for a long time. I even told Steve, and my therapist, and anyone who tried to comfort me. I may have been in Winter Soldier mode, but it was still me that did those things. The blood was, and still is, on my hands. It’s only during the past couple of weeks that I’ve been realizing that it’s not true. And maybe a part of me will always still blame myself for the things they made me do, for the person they tried to turn me into. But I’m working on getting better, working on seeing that it wasn’t my fault.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you reach out and wipe away the tears that had fallen. It was almost like a reflex, you didn’t even think about doing it. When you pull your hand away, he almost wants to reach out and grab it.

“Sorry,” you look down at your hands, “but I don’t think you have to make amends for anything. I think it would be good to forgive yourself, you didn’t do anything wrong”.

Somehow the words carry more weight when you say them. You understand more than anyone. So maybe if you say he should forgive himself…

“But adding on to what I was saying, I think part of the reason that Steve and I got so close, was because I reminded him of you. He felt bad that he didn’t find you and save you sooner. One night I let it slip that I was scared that they were somehow going to come and find me and take me again, and he swore he wouldn’t ever let that happen. I don’t think he meant to replace you, and I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. ” Now it’s your turn to wipe away your tears. “God, you think I’d be done crying about all of this every night by now.”

“Am I the reason you cry every night?” James didn’t think it was possible to feel any more guilty, until he heard that.

“No, no. I just— not you. It was hard, feeling like I lost a big part of Steve when he went back to be with Peggy. Then to come back and think that you hated me. And then spending time with an alternate you and having to come back and pretend like nothing happened because I know it wasn’t actually you.” Although you don’t want to part with them, you slowly pull the dog tags out of your pocket and hold them out to James. It doesn’t feel right to keep them anymore.

“When…?”

“One of my last nights there.”

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “What did he say, when he gave them to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, but you should have them back—”

“Please,” you hear the desperation in his voice again. “It does matter. What… what did I say?”

You look up and blink a few times, willing the tears to go away. “It was right after we had dinner,” you decide to leave out the part about it being a planned date, “we had just walked back to Peggy’s tent and he—you, said that I should keep these because just knowing that I have the other set, when you look at yours you won’t think of the war, you’d think of the time you spent with me.”

James puts a hand on your cheek, and you find yourself leaning in to his touch. “God, I wish I could remember. I wish that was me and that I had those memories of you to get me through… all of it. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I like who I was back then a lot better than who I am now. And I’m sure it’s a little disappointing to come back to, well, me.” He moves his hand and shrugs, trying not to seem as upset as he actually is.

“I’m not sad because I’m disappointed. I could never be disappointed at you. Knowing what you’ve been through, it’s understandable that you’re not the same person that you were before. Like I mentioned before, it’s just hard to separate who I spent time with in 1945, versus now because you don’t see me the same way. And I was sad because, I don’t know, I… don’t want to make you feel like you have to be my friend.”

Letting out a chuckle, James runs his hand through his hair. “I’m terrible at this. I’ve wanted to be your friend, for a while now. I just didn’t know how to show it. My first official mission with the team, I don’t think anyone had seen me that nervous in a long time. But it wasn’t because I was worried about the mission, or getting hurt. I was worried about you getting hurt. Didn’t show it so well though because then the next week you were already going back to 1945 and you overheard me and assumed I was trying to sabotage you. But I wasn’t, I swear. I don’t know you that well, and I know that’s my own damn fault. But you’re someone important to Steve, and that was enough for me to want to protect you. Do you— do you think we could start over? I know it might be hard considering how I treated you before but I really do mean it, I want a shot at friendship with you.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but he was also thinking and maybe something more in the future. Now that he knows there might be a chance, if you liked past him. “Can we go somewhere?”

You follow him to the elevator, and end up on the roof again. Sitting next to each other on the blanket, you watch as he picks up the flowers and once again begins to weave the stems together. Just a few minutes later, he’s finished. He stands up and goes behind you, telling you to close your eyes.

“Why do I need to close my eyes?”

“Just trust me. It’s a crowning ceremony and right now it’s imperative that you close your eyes.”

“Wow imperative. Big word.”

He tries, and fails, to hold back his laughter. “Alright doll is this what friendship with you is like? You know what, don’t answer that. Just humor me and close your eyes please.”

You close your eyes, expecting to feel the weight of the flowers on your head. But instead, you feel something around your neck. Instantly, you open your eyes. He gave you the dog tags.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to. I may not be the same as the Bucky you met back then, but I remember the war like it was yesterday. You helped that version of me through a really tough time. In… I guess in this timeline or reality, after Steve rescued me I was a mess, and I just moped around. The fact that there’s a version of me out there that instead spent the next week laughing and talking, and spending time with a beautiful woman, even just the thought means a lot to me. You gave that to me. And you should keep these. He’d want you to, and I do too.”

Before you can think about it too much, and change your mind, you stand up and throw your arms around him, feeling relieved when he returns the gesture. For you, this feels familiar. A different body, but still the same sense of peace, and calm. For James, it’s different. He isn’t used to people being affectionate towards him. The first few times Steve gave him a hug, he had to do everything he could to not tense up and immediately pull away. But it feels right when you’re in his arms.

“Now,” he bends down and gets the flower crown, placing it on your head. “There we go. This must feel like deja vu for you, huh?”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling as you reach up to touch the flowers. “I think I like this version better.”

Having actually talked to you and spent time with you, it’s easy for James to see how he could fall for you. “Besides, you know… how are you actually feeling? That’s gotta take a toll on you, going back so far.”

“It took about a week for me to be feeling completely back to normal, but it’s fine. I’d rather use my abilities to help the team than what I was forced to do before, so… I don’t mind.”

Seeing how much you care for everyone, it worries James. “Maybe you could speak to Fury about not making you go back that far though. What if something happens or one day you can’t stay in the past that long?”

“I— I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t know what’ll happen, but the Avengers saved my life. Well technically Steve and Nat did, but, you know what I mean. I owe them everything, the least I could do is whatever they need.”

James takes one of your hands in his, and slowly shakes his head. “Not if it comes at the expense of your life. I know we’re just now starting to actually become friends, but I care about you. A lot. And I don’t just mean to make it about me, what all of us would do? Yes your powers are a big help, but it’s not worth it if it hurts you. You have to be careful”.

“I know, and I will, James, I promise. I’ll talk to Fury, maybe I only go back that far if I have to see Peggy or Howard, someone who knows.”

“Why do you call me James?”

“Now it’s just a habit, I guess. Remember I didn’t exactly think we were friends, and only friends call you Bucky.”

He looks down for a moment, then back up to you. “My ma was pretty much the only one to ever call me James. I kinda like how it sounds when you say it.”

“James,” you say softly, and when he smiles, you find yourself slowly falling for this man. You get a glimpse at who he was in the past, and feel lucky that he’s opening up to you like this.

“Quick look up,” he points, and you glance up just in time to see a shooting star go by.

“I’ve never been able to actually see one in person before!” You close your eyes and make a wish in your head.

“Well don’t keep me in suspense, what’d you wish for?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t tell you that or it might not come true.”

“Do I get a hint?”

You don’t tell him that your wish was about him. “I think— it will come true one day.” You wished that he’d one day be truly happy, and be able to see that he doesn’t need to apologize for the actions from his past. You know that he’s a good person, and you wished that the world would see that too. “I have something on my face?” You laugh, laying back down on the blanket. You could somehow sense that he was looking at you.

“Sorry I don’t mean to stare. Just, from where you are right now, you have stars in your eyes. I like looking at them.” As he looks at you, admiring the sky, he feels it. For the first time in a long time, he feels safe. This sense of somehow knowing that whatever happens, he has you in his life now, and it’ll all turn out alright.

thank you sooooo much to @cryonme for hosting the writing event (and also sorry it took me 1000 years to post asdfhasdg). to everyone who had read to the end, THANK YOU TOO!!! if you enjoyed this mini-series, click [ HERE ] to check out my masterlist of all other works, as well as my reading recommendations! and click [ HERE ] to check out my WIP’s, and maybe let me know which ones you’d like to see first! thank you thank you thank you to anyone that followed along on this emotional rollercoaster. that was the finally part, and i hope you enjoyed! feedback in the form of likes / comments / re-blogs are very much appreciated! ALSO i’m not sure if anyone would be interested in a sort of continuation of this? i just had some thoughts about the beginnings of your friendship / eventual relationship with james, given the ending :)

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #winter soldier au #marvel #mcu #marvel au #avengers #avengers au #sebastian stan #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine

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readerstories · 3 years ago

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Magic Fingers - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

I got so many other ideas for fics with Aaron and male reader, this was just an excuse to write some “shorter” smut while I work on some longer fics. (AO3)

Warnings: smut, clothed sex

Wordcount: 2978

Summary: Working hard on a case you offer to give Hotch a massage, because the man is as stiff and tense as a block of wood. (And maybe you want to get your hands on him, but that’s neither here nor there).

The case had been hard, challenging, brutal, and difficult, which had caused the whole team to work on overdrive for the last few days with very little sleep. Which was why Hotch had ordered everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep, as none of you were going to get anywhere being as sleep deprived as you were.

He had tried to stay behind himself, but you had more or less dragged him back to a car while reminding him that even he was human and needed rest. Back at the hotel, in your shared room (because of course with your luck there wasn’t any single rooms left in the hotel for anyone in the team), you stretch before sitting down on your own bed, Hotch walking over to his.

You could see how tense he was, how much he needed to relax. Which was easier said then done when Hotch took as much responsibility as he did, always making sure everything possible was done to catch the unsub and save anyone who might get in harms way. Which was an admirable trait of his, but you could tell by his posture how stiff he had gotten over the last few days. The way he held himself spoke volumes to you, even though you knew he tried to shield it from the world and keep it to himself.

“Hotch?” He looks away from his jacket, the only item of his suit he has manged to force himself out of so far, while your jacket, shoes, and tie was long gone. You pat the edge of the bed next to where you are sitting, Hotch looks skeptical.

“Come on, you need to relax.”

“What does me sitting next to you have anything to do with that?”

“Let me give you a massage.” He raises a brow and you sigh, shifting so you’re kneeling on the bed instead.

“You’ve seen my resume, you know you I thought about going into massage therapy at one point.” Still, Hotch doesn’t move, so you know you have to do more to convince him.

“Remember when Reid had slept on his neck all wrong that one time after staying up way too late and I helped? Or when Morgan messed up his shoulder when going after an unsub and couldn’t sleep for days, and after a massage he finally could? It was the closest I’ve ever seen the man to weeping. Or when JJ was pregnant and hurting, but after letting me give her a massage she joked that if she didn’t love Will, and I wasn’t gay, she would have married me? Hotch, at this point I’ve given a massage to everyone on the team but you, so, get.”

You make a grabby motion with your hands. Hotch sigh, seeming to finally get how serious and stubborn you were being in that moment. He takes off his tie and shoes on the way over to the bed, but doesn’t do anything else, which makes everything a bit harder, but hey, you’ll take anything you’ll get. As Hotch sits down you’re greeted by the lovely opportunity to stare at his back without him noticing or caring too much, which would have been great, if you couldn’t tell how tense he was without even needing a single touch.

When you touch his shoulders he almost jumps, but he forces himself to calm down. Which doesn’t do much, because the instant your hands are on him you can tell it’s going to take a while and some effort to get him relax.

You slowly, ever so slowly start to move you hand, starting out gently at first to get a feeling for him. And ho boy, those are some serious knots if you’ve ever felt some. Your thumb barely brushes over one with some pressure and Hotch winces. You take a breath in trough your teeth, Hotch truly can’t be feeling any sort of pleasant right now, or really, ever you suppose.

“Hotch, if I really didn’t know any better, I would say your shoulders are made of wood with how stiff they are and how many knots I can feel.” Hotch grunts and starts to move like he’s about to stand up, but you drag him back down so he’s fully sitting again with your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh no, none of that, you’re not moving off this bed until all of them are gone and you can you know, actually be a little relaxed for once in your adult life.” Hotch scoffs, but doesn’t try to move again, which you count as a victory.

For the next, you don’t even know how long, your hands wander, squeeze, and press all over Hotch’s shoulders, loosing muscles and knots as good as you can while kneeling behind Hotch. Hotch is mostly quiet, only letting out sighs and the occasional grunt when an especially hard spot is made pliant.

When you’ve done as much as you can in this position you withdraw your hands, noting how Hotch is slumping slightly more forward now than he was when you started.

“Up the bed please, I can’t reach more like this.” Hotch turns so he can look at you over his shoulder.

“You’ve massaged my shoulders, what mor-”

“If your shoulders are any indication, you need a full body massage, so up on the bed please, front down.” You stare down Hotch, not breaking eye contact for one second. You’ve decided that he needs that massage, even if you have to tackle him to the bed to give it to him. He seems to have sensed this as he sighs, and above all miracles, does as you asked of him. He’s on his front, arms tucked under his head to use as a pillow, you now kneeling next to one hip.

Pleased with yourself, you get to work. You start where you left off from before, somewhere in the middle of his back. The knots there aren’t as bad as his shoulders, you suppose Hotch takes ‘bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders’ literally sometimes, but still you do your best to let your hands work over them until they are smoothed out and the muscles beneath your palms relax.

Over time your hands move downwards, and at some point right above the waist of his pants and his belt, your hands on either hip, they brush a particular point or points which make Hotch draw in a breath. Your hands pause before you speak.

“Sorry, you ticklish there?”

“A little.” Hotch reluctantly admits, mostly speaking at the wall he has been staring at for the last few minutes.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You say as you file that little nugget of info away in a part of your brain you’ve dedicated to Hotch. You make sure to avoid that spot when your hands starts up again, instead moving to his lower back. There you find a knot truly worth your skilled hands, taking several minutes before you can move your hands from that spot. You realize you’ve accomplished your goal there when Hotch lets out a loud groan as you fell his muscles loosen beneath your hands, which you gather was an involuntary sound by the slight redness on his cheeks.

“See, I told you I was good.” Hotch doesn’t responds verbally, but nods, eyes closed now. You don’t say anything else, instead moving to his legs. You start at one ankle, slowly, slowly moving your way upwards, careful not to go to high for both of your comfort. You can tell when that is by a small twitch on Hotch’s leg, just above where you can feel the start of his boxers through his pants, and then you move down. You do however at on point press on a muscle on the backside of his knee that causes the leg to move on its own, which causes you both to laugh.

When both legs are done, you take your hands off Hotch and lean back, noting how his eyes are closed, almost like he’s sleeping.

“Turn around.” This causes Hotch to abruptly open his eyes and look at you for the first time since he laid down.

“What?”

“I haven’t done your front yet, and I’m not about to let you go with a half finished massage.”

“I-I’d rather not.” Looking over Hotch you quickly realize, with your profiling work and previous experience, why he’s not moving yet.

“If it’s an erection that’s nothing new.”

“Wha-”

“Your body is just reacting to stimuli, happens a lot with men, nothing I haven’t seen before. But if you really want to stop, we can of course do that.” You can see Hotch’s mind at war with himself. You say nothing, pretending that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall above the headboard.

It’s the movement of the mattress that alerts you to the fact that Hotch is moving, as the man himself says nothing. When you look at him, he has his arms over his face, jaw and mouth barely visible. What is very visible, is the erction pushing against the front of his pants, and though you would have liked to look, you only give it a glance. Hotch jumps when you touch his ankle again, but you don’t start just yet.

“Relax, like I said, nothing I haven’t seen before. Happens a lot actually, my hands are just that good you know, like a god or something.” Hotch huffs out a laugh, a smile briefly on his lips. You smile back at him even though he can’t see you, and then concentrate back on the task at hand.

Like before, you start at his ankles, working your way up. Hotch gets less tense almost by the second, breathing deepening as your hands work their magic once more. You don’t go very high on his thighs, actually now you’re lower than before, not wanting to make Hotch uncomfortable in any way.

Next is his hips, you start at the one closest to you and work your way up towards his shoulder instead of across his stomach. He still has his arms over his face, so you poke him in the bicep to get his attention.

“Arm please.” Hotch’s sigh is deep, but he moves his arm so you can take it. You’re gentle, well, as gentle as you can be while kneading out knots from tired muscles. His bicep is firm under your fingers, needing a lot less attention than his shoulders luckily.

When you’re done with that arm, you let it go, tapping on his other so he can move that of his face and switch it for the one you finished with. The angle of it is a bit awkward, and you probably should move for easier access, but honestly you can’t be bothered as you’re very close to being finished. However, your knee protests, telling your body that hey, moving is good as not to let limbs fall asleep.

But instead of doing the logical and probably better thing of getting of the bed and walking around, your tired brain decides to just move one leg over Hotch waist, intending to just move the other one over and after. Hotch draws in a slight breath at the motion and then something in your leg fails you, causing you to drop down on Hotch, putting most of your weight on top of Hotch’s crotch. Hotch moans out loud as his hands flies to your lower thighs and you go stock still.

“Fuck shit, sorry Hotch-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it-” Hotch draws in a deep breath and licks his lips as you worriedly watch his face. You’re mortified, you just dropped yourself on Hotch’s erection, holy fuck, shit.

It takes a few seconds to realize that you’re not trying to move of Hotch’s lap.

But Hotch isn’t trying to move you off either.

If anything, he’s keeping you there, a deathgrip on your lower thighs.

You take a few terrifying seconds to take stock of the situation before experimentally rolling your hips against Hotch. A flex of his fingers, but he does or says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. You on the other hand, is watching his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, and we’ll forget about it ever happening.”

“Ah, um, fuck, shit.”

Silence, one, two, three beats.

“Fuck, move.” You start to get off his, heart already dropping to your guts, but instead Hotch drags you down and rolls his hips against you. This time it’s you who gasps, as your own dick twitches in your pants with the feeling of Hotch grinding against you. Hotch throws his head back, eyes screwed shut.

You’re quick to find your balance and leverage by placing your hands on Hotch’s chest, grinding down, moving as best as you can with Hotch’s own movements. Hotch is letting out a few low moans, which you match with your own as you move and watch the adam’s apple on Hotch’s throat move as he swallows. You want to lean down and kiss his neck, but fuck, you don’t know if you even can kiss him, if he will let you.

Hotch answers that question for you, as just seconds later his eyes open and he moves so he can look at you, catching you staring at him.

“Ah fuck.” Before you can even ask, he’s sitting up. You yelp as the movement causes you to straddle his thighs instead, and then in seconds there’s a hand on the nape of your neck, and even fewer seconds later you’re kissing Hotch.

Fuck.

His lips are firm, but pressing against you with a desperation you’re sure to match. His hands on your hips, holding you hard. Your hands go into his hair, tugging him even closer of that is even possible at this point, which causes him to moan low into your mouth which holy shit, that is, fuck, you can’t even think anymore you think.

The world shifts around you then, and you find yourself on your back, Hotch’s erection pressed against your own. It feels so good, so big and firm, and you want to feel more of him, but you can’t muster the brainpower to do anything about it, so you just tug at his hair and grind against him. Hotch seems of the same mind, as he doesn’t move to do much more either, just moving his hips against yours while kissing you within an inch of your life.

Which should be ridiculous, because you’re both grown men almost fully dressed still, but fuck, that makes it even hotter you think. Or, you try to think, as your mind is mostly chants of ‘more, good, fuck, shit, hot’ over and over again, Hotch’s name thrown in the mix for good measure.

Hotch moves away from your lips, but doesn’t move far, instead peppering kissed down your neck on the little skin he can reach. You moan and gasp, moving one hand from his hair to his back, trying to press him even more against you.

“Fuck, shit, I’m close, so close!” You frantically confess towards the ceiling.

“Me too, me too.” Hotch breathes against your neck, one hand moving so he can unbutton your shirt and get his lips on your collarbone. He starts to suck and bite at a spot there, and that is what does you in. You come just seconds after your shirt is open for him, moaning loudly.

“Fuck!” You hear Hotch mutter against your skin, and then a mutter of your name as he comes, in a low baritone that you think you will remember for the rest of your life.

You lay there panting for several seconds, or perhaps minutes, you’re not sure, just a mess of limbs, most of Hotch’s weight on top of you.

It’s hot, in more ways than one, which is what forces you to push Hotch off you, to get some air. He goes willingly, flopping down on his back next to you on the bed. A few panting breaths before you both turn to look at the other, smiles, then laughter as the situation sinks in. You’re surprisingly the first to gain somewhat of a control over yourself, grinning as you speak.

“We just came in our pants, what are we, teenagers?” Hotch pushes his weight up on his elbows, wincing as apparently something pulls somewhere.

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like one.” Hotch smiles as you, which you return, letting your eyes wander all over him now that you can. His hair is standing in a million different directions, there’s a blush to his cheeks, his clothes are rumpled, a wet spot is forming on the front of his pants, and he looks as fucked and blissed out as you, and most certainly he, feels. You hum, your attention going back to his face.

“We should get cleaned up.” You state, which Hotch nods in response.

“I think you mean you should get us cleaned up. My legs feels like jello right about now.” You raise a brow and he grins.

“I think your massage turned off something in my legs.” You huff, incredulous, but sit up anyway.

“I’m good, but not that good.”

“Well, the sex certainly helped.” You laugh and lean down to give him a kiss, which is mostly smiling lips pressed against each other.

“Flatterer.”

“Hey, what can I say, you got magic fingers.” You smack his chest and laugh as you get up to go the bathroom, your own legs a little shaky, which Hotch doesn’t comment on, but you know he liked by the way he grins at you when you get back to the bed.

#aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #smut #lemon #written #male!reader #aaron hotcner x male!reader #male reader #2000

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Text

SuperM as Boyfriends Headcanon

↪ caro’s note. extra long version because i miss ‘em. best boys, they’re all bf material to the moon and back ♡

5k words | bullet points

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub play, shibari, female reader, grinding, poly mentions, threesomes, face-sitting, femdom & vanilla, smut and fluff

⌈ ten

— motto: they won’t underestimate me for long.

most of your social environment is gonna be confused by ten at the beginning

and don’t really get what he’s all about

or think he’s like whatever, some random guy in a tank top

acting peculiar

finding him kind of hard to gauge

some of your family and relatives might even think he’s totally unusual and a sneaky fuckboy making you mad

they seriously wonder what you see in him

down the line that perception has turned by 180 degrees

as it should

ten becomes more irreplaceable, relatable, beautiful, perfect and impressive the more you know him

he’s not as mysterious and impossibly badass as everyone assumes

his personality is very approachable to you

and you find him interesting in every aspect, looks to hobbies to background to personal habits

and also opinions because ten is a guy who really thinks stuff through

so you gotta be roughly on the same wavelength

he likes discussing controversial and complicated stuff a lot for sure

being far wiser than his age suggests

you are the first to share those things with him until the rest of the world catches up to this gem of a person

spending so much time with you

in the most personal way he can

he takes you to see the floating markets in bangkok, you spend the summer in thailand

wakeboarding and playing badminton

his entire family knows you inside out at some point this shit is serious

it’s very important to him to go back to the roots every now and then

and that you have been around his home city as well

getting to enjoy the area and time together eating the most savory delicacies

renting a boat and paddling you around to the important spots, he can explain any question you have

this kissing is gonna be so romantic

who needs a vacation in venice when you can go to thailand with none other than ten himself as your ferryman let that sink in

except eating durian there he is, the boyfriend who can do anything!

with seemingly no effort

ten does little kind services of love for you throughout the day

he pours you herbal tea, fixes some furniture (he’s surprisingly good at tinkering), comes home from the bakery with your favorite pastry, does the laundry with your favorite fabric softener

he also goes on a huge shopping spree with you monthly because fashion is key in this household and it’s tremendous fun

you giggle when he puts on oversized shirts deliberately to look funny

everyone in the clothing store will think oh man what an adorable pair

ten will model the living hell out of the entire stock

and buy you the cape you really really want as a birthday present

said item turns out to be your favorite couple accessory

because you can sit next to each other on a bench at the river and wear it

what’s not to love about a portable blanket

of course he will take to instagram and make it such a cool thing, photographies of you wearing really cool coats and jackets

mirror bathroom selfies together as well, with a back hug, the classic

and not just for insta

you snuggle a lot generally

ten is always available for affection

and accepts all PDA

he’s a kitty after all, he loves the warmth of your body more than you know

remember how taemin said ten’s hands are always cold, newsflash not anymore since you stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie whenever you can

and hello sir your paws will be nice and cozy on my waist

or hand in hand when you waltz through your apartment

time for dance is a must

oh my god ten is so good at all of this

although say he’s definitely faster into latin than standard genres

tango argentino, he loves flamenco as well

don’t believe me? ten is a diehard rosalía stan!

vamos

so, no-brainer, expect a lot of dancy stuff

that escalates into wild, passionate fucking

which probably looks like an aggressive form of couple exercises

you poor sore souls

ten’s lil kitty butt is falling apart from all the “i can handle a bigger one!”-level pegging and you have aching legs all over

favorite position? full nelson

if you ask me ten’s ass is probably so carved out by the end of this you could fit lucas and kai in there from head to toe

this is not for the faint of heart

sex with this guy is extra cardio

and if you’re into that a threesome is gonna go down sooner or later

with our girl lisa

there. i said it

miss manoban in those knee-high boots, grinding her thighs between yours and you finishing off on ten’s face? the fucking hottest thing ever i need a moment wow

i don’t have to tell you how orgasmic this is gonna be

steamy sex life with ten very recommended

⌈ kai

— motto: you’re like a precious rose. i’ll protect you forever.

to be straightforward with you

he is in so heavily in demand it’s madness

to give you an idea of the scale

mark is basically occupied by yuta until the end of time

but kai has an entire idol fanclub on top of all erigoms

those sharp moves did not go unnoticed

he gets an inkigayo sandwich every other day

jesus christ

if rent-a-sexy-bf.com was a thing kai would be the most requested

his phone would be blowing up with contracts like

and you also have to pass kyungsoo’s vibe check

and taemin’s

the road to being kai’s gf is indeed the way of the samurai

i mean honestly: kim jongin is without a doubt the hardest member to get a date with

this has got to be the most selective man of the entire industry or something

if he likes you he REALLY likes you

and he will be the one showing initiative

because he wants to make it clear he isn’t just spending time out of politeness or something

although it’s pretty logical that if kai was unable to reject someone he would no longer be an idol but a harem husband busy every hour of the day

seoul would be able to found its own village

kai town

where like 70% of the population is pregnant

but since kai wants to keep on dancing obviously and he wants to lend his heart to only one person

seoul has to settle with a singular nini family house instead of a kai district

where you and the man himself are a full-fledged household basically since kai’s nieces double as actual kids

if you wanna be a young ass ‘mom but not mom with kids’ and be married to kim kai this is it

does he have a thing for milfs or something

that thought just came to my mind

anyway you’re mommy anyway wink wink

fucking til’ dawn until even his muscles hurt

going raw at the gym together

him cooking the most random food with the infamous waffle maker

cuddling with an army of teddy bears surrounding you

walking the dogs with the sexiest dancer alive

and the sexiness is only the tip of the iceberg

we know he’s all-round amazing

kai is the king of figuring out ways to chill out with you anywhere anytime

and yes innocent chilling

...unless you’re in the mood for something else

up to you

anyway

sweet innocent chilling for now... with the stunner... just smooching at best things aren’t going raw or anything

on the couch in the kitchen in the car when it’s parked somewhere in nature

kai takes you very seriously and is a great listener

he’s literally so respectful and open-minded i can’t

he will keep your secrets and stand up for you if it’s ever needed

yes he is extremely caring and invested

kai does not tolerate others being shady towards you

if there’s an instance where you are hurt and unable to assert yourself don’t worry. he knows how to confront others with measure but a firm determination.

kai takes a lot of that responsibility but only to the degree where you are comfortable

i think you get what i mean by that

and he is diplomatic instead of plain patronizing

you have a right to be protected. it means he not only treats you well, but also makes sure your well-being isn’t disturbed in any other way outside of the relationships

outside influences aren’t to be underestimated

and since kai is a godly man you encounter a lot of jealousy from others

a matter he will take into his hands since he knows he’s the reason

standing up for you also means saying no

to these jealous voices so this is an important boundary he has to draw

that all kinds of hellbent people want to get into his pants and take his stage image too literally is not up to you to fix

kai is there for you to enjoy and love not to defend

that’d be exhausting and beside the point

kai prevents stress and negativity to come to you

i hope i explained this well he doesn’t do this to be bossed up or make you weak it’s because he wants to make life easier for you

guys being protective will be chalked up as chauvinistic these days. often rightfully so

but what i mean is that kai support you in all regards so you won’t be at a disadvantage or feel terrible about something

⌈ taeyong

— motto: we’ll take good care. enjoy the pleasure.

he’s the type of boyfriend who will ask you about things he missed out on while he was busy

things um from the internet

while mark literally knows that one by heart already taeyong will ask you things like what the wellerman song is

and you thought it would be something nsfw

i got you fooled

did we forget that the man literally watched nct memes on youtube

taeyong is both even more 18+ than you think but also even more innocent than you think it’s complicated

this man is just hard to describe he’s so different, i mean every person is unique but he’s an original it’s the extra mile you know

anyway

sea shanties

bopping to it all day since he just heard it

singing it while he prepares dinner based on a youtube recipe video as he often does

he’s the most adorable person ever ever ever

asking you why shanties are back in fashion

(good question, requires a deeper sociocultural analysis i reckon)

planning to remix one for his soundcloud lmao i kid you not

maybe your favorite shanty

featuring fast-pace rap and all

creating his own previously unknown phrases and shit like that you know him

palazzo rocco lemon detox flashbacks

he’s hilarious i swear

taeyong will produce his own shanties for you can you imagine

as he says: my happiness is your happiness

watch out he will drop a shanty music video with extra krumping moves

taeyong is a never-ending source of pure crack

prepare to laugh a lot like, a lot lot

how can a man who seemingly has such a serious outlook on life and such a bonkers kinda face be so lighthearted

it’s like he’s peter pan or something

especially since he has to manage like over 20 brats in nct his cutesy behavior towards you as his gf will stand out to you

yeah so to be clear we all know he’s the cute one in the relationship

and guess who wears the pants

that’s always you ma’am don’t deny it

or wait

not for long actually because they come off um physically

but not metaphorically

because who doesn’t wanna sit on his face tbh

your favorite reserved spot

he loves it

taeyong has such a thing for your body it’s ridiculous

mister lee got a sexy mama

and you have such a thing for the gloriousness that is him

but neither of you will not admit it as openly as other people would think

all there is... is being flustered

baekhyun probably has to play some cupid now and then

and give you some ideas

like gifting taeyong plushies and things like that

baekhyun knows what taeyong is all about so the advice is very welcome

but most things you find out for yourself

by being a little braver with him you know

you walking around naked in the apartment or basically fresh out the shower with nothing but a towel

will shake up taeyong so immensely, he will back himself against a wall without you even pinning him there lmao!

jeez he’s so deep into kinky stuff but easily shook anyway

i quote him again: “born to be cute, i dunno!”

you can imagine the overwhelm when you rub yourself against him like it’s nobody’s business

it’s so much fun to give taeyong a regular horny meltdown not gonna lie

this man was grinding his whole body all over the superm stage and now he’s basically freezing up and drooling

how many denied and ruined orgasms he’s gonna get, so much overstimulation all the way

you’ll lose count of it

and just how wet you’re gonna be

is a thing for the history books

taeyong isn’t such a big deal in nct for no reason god gave him every talent

so great sex is obviously in his repertoire

i think you’re gonna break some records for most fucks per week

you know... guys like lucas taemin kai and baekhyun spend more time wooing and teasing and flirting

but taeyong gets down to business

one glance is enough

⌈ lucas

— motto: the hottest couple around.

ah, big boy

you really got this man’s attention

doing nothing much at all really

he probably just saw you walking around talking to friends

carrying an impossibly huge veggie burger munching and enjoying yourself after going on a jog

yeah boy that’s how you catch his eye

they say love begins in the stomach and that is the true meaning

or the nose, your food smells really good, lucas is going crazy, he’s seeing stars and shit

anyway

the towering burger isn’t the only thing he wants

lucas cannot get you out of his mind no matter how much he tries to distract himself

with more good food, movies, games

fooling around with wayv or the superm maknaes, and working out

he’s admittedly... a little himbo head over himbo heels with you the feels got to him

he’s not gonna say it’s a date he’s just gonna invite you just because

to hang out in the kitchen while taeyong cooks and baekhyun comes up with the idea to play twister

imagine lucas with his long arms and legs bending himself all over the place

fighting with kai who almost crashed his shoulders into taemin who avoided the accident quickly

making you lose a round

obviously lucas will hustle until your team wins

mostly because he’s so tall and baekhyun is so small which is a huge advantage when stacking each other over the map

let’s just face it baekhyun only suggested this game to bite everyone’s butts and to see you have skinship with lucas

which is definitely a successful plan of the leader

yukhei is in paradise

jumping around his room like an oversized bunny after you went home

don’t lie, you fell hard for him as well he’s just such a presence

emotionally, physically

a gentle but persistent giant

he’ll do anything to make your relationship happen once he knows you’re interested

if there’s someone meant to be a boyfriend it’s gotta be him come on

he will cave in after a while and admit he can’t just forget about you

not gonna lie

your ex is gonna be shaking in his ratty boots

his poor eyes will literally jop from their unexpecting sockets

when he sees lucas hanging out with you

with his shining blonde hair and tall stature, that perfect shapely body, with great fashion on top of that

looking like your guardian angel

man, xuxi really does

pulling you out of your slump that’s been going on for months

and bringing back smiles and a good time he knows how to do that best

and big big hugs of course

you can imagine how soothing and grounded it feels with such huge arms around you

he will make sure that feeling is always there when you need it

because you deserve that treatment

which means he will come over very very often

yeah get ready for how yukhei is a lot more driven than you think just dial and he will be there

underneath the meme surface is someone very determined who really really wants you

yukhei is chaotic good incarnate but in that area he isn’t messing around

his brain is like: “gotta be with her”

on repeat

he must call you, he literally can’t sleep without tying loose ends together as quickly as possible

no second wasted with this guy, even far down the relationship timeline

i really pity your ex

i mean someone dating any superm member would drive their former partner completely nuts

but lucas is a special case

he has that kind of look and aura that makes other guys dig themselves into the ground like wiggling worms or cope by fanboying over him

i don’t wanna make this sound like a competition and yet — congrats on your noodly blondie boyfriend alright

⌈ mark

— motto: two nerds in love.

how to explain this. mark is a perfect balance of a lover, a talker, and a shy bean

with a tendency toward bean

and flicking the bean

you know

cutting right to the chase are we

mark is very invested in pleasing you as good as he can

and defeating his awkwardness

because if we know one thing it’s that he always strives to become better and better like he can’t help it

and isn’t afraid of almost biting off more than he can chew

how many subunits is he part of at this point is it gonna be nct hollywood as well god dangit

back to the point mark doesn’t treat relationships and sex as something static which is a good and rare thing

he does his best and always looks for room to improve

while being very nervous, very bilingual, it takes two languages or more to express what he thinks about you let that sink in

that’s very shaky first date sex while being extremely in love with each other

lucky you

and an afterglow where he plays the guitar for you

that’s so nice

he can play it while laying down and shit

while singing

not rapping, actual full-fledged serenading

we’ve heard how that sounds in the relay cam

are you dating some kind of teenage heartthrob or something huh

mark will make it very clear he’ll stick around, this bad bitch is here to stay

or actually, he’s a good bitch, don’t misunderstand

mark doesn’t have a lot of edgy in him unless rap is concerned

he’s the kinda guy to get lost in IKEA with

having a good time

as often as his schedule permits

you really have to make use of your time together

this man might as well the busiest idol out there

and you are no different because birds of a feather

you’re both mr. and ms. independent

out and about very often

so meeting up becomes something special during comeback season

or wait mark always has a comeback going on

which is a double-edged sword but something you both know you signed up for

which is why you spend a lot of time around NCT dream, 127, and SuperM

sm’s publicity agents have to work extra hard i’m telling you

a dating rumor is the last thing both of you would need

since you befriend several members you gotta stay on the low as well

but hey the rage of jealous people of the public is nothing compared to the force of nature that is yuta nakamoto

who seriously thinks himself threatened and robbed

in case you are feeling possessive as well...

...you might have to fistfight yuta

to be able to be with mark

who is basically property of osaka at this point

yuta is a scorpio that’s just the way it is

unlike taeyong who wishes his rap buddy the best, yuta kinda wants to be mark’s wingman and see him date, live his best life

but also have mark for himself to fawn over and to adore, to be fascinated by

we get it yuta. bisexual struggles. very understandable

you have to promise in person that mark doesn’t forget about the holy gaming nights with yuta

which is hilarious since that’s not up to you but mark’s memory

bestie, yuta uses everyone as a scapegoat don’t sweat it too much

regardless you put a weekly reminder on the fridge

so the roaring lion yuta would be pacified

he doesn’t want to lose his sweetheart can you blame him

the ultimate but also most risky solution is obviously inviting yuta for movies

which will be appreciated but also cause a storm

mark will definitely break a sweat when you start a popcorn war or try to prove who hugs mark the best

caught in the middle of mayhem is mark lee’s specialty what did you expect

this either ends with murder or a chaotic open relationship down the line

yuta really is attached but who wouldn’t be

it could be worse mark has double the love you know

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you wanna know why i’m your candy?

baby tell me are you ridin’?

in fair verona where we lay our scene...

that baekhyun always wants to woo you — his way, which proves to be very interesting to say the least — is never hard to miss

putting in effort is mochi default mode

no matter what stage of the relationship you’re in

he might as well regularly serenade you under your balcony in the backyard just because

probably singing ‘baby we can stay up’ and wiggling his ass in all directions because he’s a dirty boy gone wild

yeah. nowadays romeo is twerking instead of feuding with tybalt

that’s good for him and everyone involved

you in particular because you get some very racy eye candy

you know how baekhyun is

at least nobody’s around seeing him put on an 18+ show like that

your little guy is one unhinged fella

if it starts pouring he will grind up and down the next lantern and belt out ‘singing in the rain’

you bet he can do some actual pole dance

he’s strong and bendy you know

and loves to gyrate his whole bag of bones like... he wants to hit you with all the body rolls

in the rain

what a freaky man

but hey you wanna stay up for sure

doesn’t take long until you beckon him to come upstairs

where the only way to alleviate him of his wet clothes—

oh well he has those roger rabbit vibes and you can’t be mad at it

he will play off all his hormonal antics

baekhyun is hilarious

and so perverted, he can keep up with your spicy idea of playing patty-cake don’t worry

how do i know you’re an extra nsfw kinda person?

who else would like baekhyun

he says juicy things all the time

and does juicy things

yes. finally a couple on eye level indeed.

when baekhyun asks are you ridin’ you ask how hard

bruh

this is gonna be fun

and remember

beside handing you sacks of money

his priority is always to make you smile

i’m kidding about the bags but

baekhyun is so rich it’ll show in your relationship, but he’s more about the interactions with you rather than the lifestyle

baekhyun didn’t hustle for a bentley he hustled to sing and get out of sm alive alright

financial stability: important

luxury: very nice to have, he can make you the presents you want to have and travel a lot together

but smiles: baekhyun priority

because he so badly wants to know you love him and adore him, he sometimes feels so insecure

of course you do

you always reassure him with your reactions

it’s very important to him don’t underestimate it

baekhyun has always been talking about his ideal type in terms of how he can cheer her up

so even the naughtiest sexy time evenings are gonna be filled with all giggles

anyway other than that your pussy will be dripping

because this guy is as horny as all other members of super m combined

and you have your ways of leaving him tongue-tied and wrists-tied

taemin’s impact

superm isn’t short of bondage supplies we all know that

so yeah. shibari baekhyun is gonna happen

since he does pilates imagine what kinda shapes you can bend this lil guy into

and take some pictures

privé is in trouble

bondage model baekhyun is bursting onto the scene

you might even run a risque blog that features cropped pictures with him

heh — you think people will recognize him by his body?

nope

first: you only upload HD pictures that aren’t whitewashed

baekhyun is basically never photographed like that

second: who expects baekhyun to be featured on a bdsm blog with his girlfriend

and this is the guy that drives you around in his expensive car with his big black shades on

well what can i say

nothing is the way it seems

⌈ taemin

— motto: i’ll unfold a whole new world for you.

taemin is cocky, he’s sensual, and: a very smiley person as we know

least boring relationship ever

he will prance toward you whenever he can to involve you in cuddles

touch-starved taemin is a thing

kkoong can tell you about it, he needs kisses and embraces so often

might as well pepper him with it no problem

and put him into your oversized sweaters when he eats ice cream on the sofa, watching movies, and you brush his ever-growing hair

he’s smol he’s gonna fit into them don’t worry

and on the other hand he likes a rough and tough girl who thinks of him like a boy toy

who acts tsundere or like his bodyguard

working out almost daily to the point of sweat all over

a gal probably able to pretzel minho lucas and chanyeol into one giant bundle

taemin truly has the taste of a divo

multi-layered as always

so you couldn’t say the relationship is always the same in sentiment, the vibe of the dynamic could be different every day

we love a complex man

what would be volatile to others is actually an advantage up close

because taemin understands every difficult facet of himself and his partner

even if those facets might be contradictory

or something that’s felt shameful about

he will accept and listen anyway

the same goes for getting what drives you

taemin is like a walking psychology velvet couch with fancy swirls as arm rests

point is he isn’t fooled by the surface of the world

he knows what has to be known

which also means your looks aren’t the part he prioritizes

and not even outward personality and habit is what he’s drawn to

it’s the mentality and values underneath

that’s true compatibility to him and he can feel it

he’s really really smart

and also finds it important that you get along with shinee and superm, that you think they’re nice to be around and vice versa

especially kai as taemin’s absolute bearly bestie. if kai thinks you’re shady and you don’t like kai either

or if you’re permanently super awkward and taemin’s moodmaking doesn’t help

we have a problem

but fair enough

kai and taemin are basically one soul at this point so if taemin likes you jongin does anyway

bff telepathy

in fact jongin was probably the one introducing you to taemin lmao!

because he knows you go well together instinctively and he is correct

so not to worry then

and it’s good on taemin to think longterm and not see you as a person outside of social interaction y’know

cough cough he thinks about marriage, you might be ms. lee one day

here he goes again taemin is just very mature seeing you as well-rounded in every aspect of life

without letting his dick make the important decisions at the detriment of making this a relationship of two lives not just two bodies only

but obviously don’t assume taemin is no horny devil. we all know he dreams of the freakiest scenarios and fantasies in this whole group

going kinda crazy about the thought of making you cum which he always wants to try with new methods

which occupies his mind more than a big bowl of super spicy noodles which is taemin’s favorite meal so

at the same time taemin junior is definitely the same clingy attention whore as his sparkly owner

limp wrists from all the handjobs on your side

and very swollen lips from giving all that head on his side

this is gonna be interesting

he puts the 6v6 in 69

equals 69v69 am i right

but i’m serious that’s gonna be a lot of oral action

you definitely ask each other about having sex very often, daily if you have the time and find a nice spot

and how on earth do both of you keep your hands off each other sleeping in one bed

taemin is touchy as hell with no shyness, and you squish squeeze and grope this guy like the mochi he is

ah when things go both ways

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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

Note

Do I mind if I ask how you approach writing longer fic? I've always struggled to write anything more than maybe two chapters long and I'm curious if you have a particular method to how you approach such stories.

Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely love it when people ask me for writing advice because it makes me feel like a Smart Person Who Knows Things.

Before we start, here is one grain of salt to take all of this with: I have a naturally long-form brain. It is very hard for me to write something less than 1k. Short fiction is great, and there is nothing wrong with sticking to short things if that's what your brain likes to do.

So. You have decided to write a story. This is going to focus on "stories". Some people write fic that's more freeform or whatever, I am not going to cover that. What I mean by a story is this:

It starts

Some stuff happens

It ends

It is highly probable that your story contains a change of state, which could be that a villain is defeated, or a goal is reached, but it could also be that character falls in love with another, or someone learns to like broccoli.

I like to start out by completing the sentence, "This is a story where _______". This is basically like coming up with a summary for an ao3 post, except that it doesn't need to be catchy. Lots of different kinds of things could go in that blank! It could literally be what happens: This is a story where Ichigo goes back in time and punches young Aizen in the nose. It could be about what you want to explore: This is a story where Hitsugaya gets a better understanding of his zanpakutou. It could be about the vibe you want to achieve: This is an AU where everyone is in a punk rock band and has cool hair and outfits. The idea of this is to clearly define what you, the author, is interested in writing. Make sure it feels right! Maybe you pick the first one, but when you say it out loud, you say, "You know, I really just want Ichigo to go back in time so he can horse around with young Renji and Rukia and punching Aizen in the nose is just an excuse for that." That may sound dumb, but it's fine, actually! Most people don't read stories strictly for the plot, they read stories for the implications of those plots! Will my favorite two characters kiss? Will there be funny interactions between these two groups of characters? Will there be sick fights? Stories are excuses to have scenes. Sometimes, you will have a story where the interesting sequence of events is the draw, but the point is to know what you're about.

Once you feel happy with your "mission statement", you need to decide the bounds of your story: where it starts and where it ends. It may be easier to start with the end. In some cases, it may be obvious from your mission statement: everyone gets home, a villain is defeated, Kenpachi realizes the meaning of friendship. On the other hand, let's look at that punk rock AU. You've picked a vibe, but you don't really have a natural story arc. It has to have a destination, though, otherwise, it's not really a story, it's a recipe for 3 chapters of an abandoned fanfic. So brainstorm a little: Maybe they get a record deal? Maybe they win a Battle of the Bands? Maybe Byakuya accepts that the band is actually good and tells Rukia he is proud of her. Do not settle for a plot just because it works. Pick something that makes you excited! You're the one who is gonna have to write it!

I said that we needed to pick a beginning point, too, but I'm actually going to skip that for now. The next thing I do is think of all the Big Scenes I want to write, the ones you are hype to write, the ones that pop in your head as you think about the premise. Make a bullet list. They don't need to be in order. The descriptions don't need to be super detailed, but write down anything about it that is important to you. If there's a mood or a snippet of dialogue or a joke you want to make, go ahead and jot that down so you don't forget it later. What you're doing now is putting broad blotches of color on a canvas, filling in space and leaving the detail for later.

Once you are pretty happy with what you have down, try to arrange it in chronological order. Put your end at the end (if it wasn't one of your big scenes, add it now). The next task is figuring out how to traverse your scenes. You've already picked out where you want to spend the majority of your energy. The rest, I regret to tell you, is your slog writing. Now, it often happens that you will find joy in some of these scenes and your best writing may occur there, but that's serendipity. These are the scenes that you are gonna have to make yourself sit down and write, so you honestly want to limit them to just the ones you need.

So how do we do this? Look at the first thing on the list. Can you start there? If so, congrats, that's your beginning. If you can't, what needs to happen to get to there? Where can you start so that you can get to your first fun scene as soon as possible? There. That’s it. You’ve picked your beginning, good job! Now, go through the rest of your list, and add in things that must happen, even if you don’t particularly look forward to writing them. The characters need to travel from geographic point A to point B. Shuuhei needs to say something that Izuru hears and misinterprets. The Central 46 makes a new law. If you have a good idea of how these things happen, go ahead and write them down, but it’s okay if you don’t know yet. Fill in all the blanks so that if you think of each bullet list as a scene, you could read it as a story, start to end. Once you get writing, you might add more scenes, or move things around or whatever, but you should have a thing that functions as a story.

If you struggle with this, an alternative is a story with a very strong structure that is going to guide you though what you have to write.Here are two examples from my own stories Hold On, Hold On (which is only one chapter, but the principle is the same) is structured around the 5 stages of grief. Not Broken, Just Bent takes place over roughly a week, and I just decided what happened every day of the week. See You on the Other Side takes place in the middle of a bunch of canon events, which worked at mile markers.

Congratulations. You’ve just made a rough outline!

Special note for avoiding burnout!: I am a slogger. I will drag myself through the broken glass of an interminable plot to get to a single thirsty scene. That's why, at this stage, I try to look at the ratio of what I want to write to what I must write. It's gonna vary for everyone, but this is a hobby, and if looking at this proto-outline makes you feel deeply tired, maybe this isn't a good story to be devoting your time to! Can you carve it down? Can you chuck two scenes you really want to write and get rid of 80% of the slog? Or maybe you can't! In that case, just write that thirsty scene as a standalone drabble! Or just go work on something else! Maybe in the future, this one will come back to you and you’ll have a fresh idea or a renewed enthusiasm for it.

Another thing I sometimes like to do at this point is to write out some notes about my characters and their motivations and moods. Character A is homesick. Character B is so determined to defeat the enemy that they are having a hard time being sympathetic to Character A. Character C cares for both A and B and is trying to support them both. This is sort of background info that you want to keep in your head as you are writing. Depending on the type of story you are writing, this might actually be the main plot, or it might be happening subtly, but adding to the emotional impact of the story. It’s very easy for me to write these sorts of emotional arcs, but if you struggle with that, you may wish to go ahead and made a more detailed outline for that, too.

Now, it’s time to start writing! I am great at beginnings-- it is very often the case for me that the opening scene was one of my Big Tentpole Scenes. (Before you hate me too much, I make up for this by being double horrible at endings; just let me have this) Usually, I will start at the beginning and write linearly for as long as I can until I get stuck. Then, I will look forward on my outline and do the next chronological scene that I feel like writing. In general, if I sit down to write and there is something I have an urge to write, that trumps everything else. Inspiration is a precious commodity, and you should embrace it when it hits! You can slog any day. I will occasionally hold off writing a scene that I really want to, because I am saving it, like a prize for myself for getting that far. This is a very personal process of figuring out what motivates your brain and then giving your brain what it needs to be its most productive.

Eventually, you will run out of things you are excited to write, but the good news is, you’ve got a bunch of story now! Odds are that what’s left is going to be a lot of those connective tissue scenes, and you’re just going to have to do them, except that now, because you’re connecting two concrete points instead of two abstract points, it will be a lot easier. You can continue running jokes you’ve started. Maybe you invented a cafe in an earlier scene where your characters hang out and you can have them return there. Try to think of ways to make these scenes more fun, both for yourself to write and for your reader to read.

Around this time, I like to start refining that rough strokes outline into what I will call an “as-built” outline. (This is an engineering term where you update your plans or models for something to reflect any changes that had to be made along the way). This is a great activity to do at times when you feel like you have writers block. I write down every scene I have written as a 2-3 word blurb, in order. I break the scenes into what I think makes logical chapters, and I will do a word count on those prospective chapters and write it down. As you do this, you will realize that maybe you can move a scene from here to there, which will make it 1000% easier to write. Things may be happening too much, or you’ve got the characters eating three times in the same chapter. If you have subplots and dangling threads, this is where you make sure they get closure. I know this sounds very headache-y, but you are so far along in the story at this point that it’s really not-- it’s a way to look at the problems you have left. Use some sort of formatting (I like to bold things I haven’t done and sometimes I put them in red) and it gives you a very visual to-do list.

You specifically mentioned multi-chapter fanfics and I admit that I don’t tend to think in chapters, I tend to think of the story as a whole and just break it up where it feels natural. The as-built outlining I described is very helpful in making sure that my chapters feel balanced. They don’t necessarily need to be the same length, but I like them to have the same amount of stuff in them. One chapter may basically contain one long scene, and other may contain many short ones. I don’t tend to, but you can certainly have a fanfic that varies between short and long chapters, that can actually be an interesting effect. But like I said, I always like to know what I am doing, and so having it mapped out, you can say “welp, this is what I’ve done, how do I feel about that?”

Polynya, you may be saying at this point, do you write the whole fanfic before you post any of it? and I regret to inform you, the answer is yes. A lot of people write as they go, and I have made one attempt at this and I didn’t like it. I don’t like locking myself in, I just need to be able write out of order and go back and change things. Here is the story of a little in love: someone gave me an AU prompt and I got mildly obsessed with it, and wrote 5 snapshots drabbles in that universe, ending with a slight cliffhanger ending. I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to keep going. I wrote out an outline of 5 acts where the first act was detailed to the degree of each chapter being specified. The chapters here were much smaller than I usually make chapters: 1-2k. I wrote act i and ii and it was actually great, and then I hit act iii which required a lot of set up for misunderstandings and a mini romance arc. I couldn’t wing it, but nor could I figure it all out with outlining. I write dialogue in almost sort of an improv “Yes, and...?” style, so until I do it, I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, what I did was treat the second half of act iii as a complete story in the process I describe above, wrote the entire rest of it, and then posted it. One might notice that the chapter lengths grew to 3-5k each. I have two more acts to go, and I haven’t decided how I am going to do them yet, but I suspect I will treat each of them as their own mini-stories.

(I will admit that in Heart is a Muscle, I tend toward chapters that are about 10k long, and this is honestly too long, someone should smack me. If you like punchy chapters, 1-2k is good. I think 3-6k is probably an ideal chapter length. Is this how long the chapters are in my latest fanfic? Absolutely not.)

Okay, so there’s one more step, which is quality control. I am habitual re-reader-- I read my fanfics-in-progress over and over and over while I am working on them. I understand that not everyone does this, but I am usually the primary audience for my own writing, and this is the actual fun part for me. Nevertheless, you should re-read your work at least once, to make sure it hangs together.

This is purely optional, but I recommend it: get a writing friend (if you don’t like re-reading your work, I recommend this even more strongly). If you can get a full-service beta reader, that’s great, but if you can’t find someone, or if receiving that level of critique stresses you out, it’s perfectly valid to just find a friend who will read your stuff and a) shower you with compliments, b) reassure you about parts you aren’t sure about (or suggest ways to help) and c) point out any huge problems you missed. When I am writing a long fanfic, it is a huge motivational factor for me to be able to send my beta chapters as I finish them. If you are already an established writer, and you have people who consistently comment on your fic, they might be overjoyed to get a sneak peak at your work.

And that’s it! That’s the way I do it, anyway! Some people are able to sit down and write a very detailed outline and the write it start-to-finish. Good for them, I say! I have tried this and it doesn’t work great for me. I will admit that some of my fics (especially my early ones) I just sat down and banged out whole-cloth like an insane person and they are generally better than the ones I actually plan out, but that’s not a reproducible process.

As one final mechanical note, I usually write in Google Docs, which I can access on multiple devices (I used to write a lot on my phone), has convenient sharing functionality, and I use the ao3 html formatting script add-in. I generally have two documents for a single story-- one is the outline, and any other notes I want to have handy. I’ll usually put a trashcan space at the bottom for scenes that got cut but I don’t want to lose. The other is the fanfic itself.

I hope this is helpful! Please feel free to follow up with other questions and good luck with your writing!

#writing advice #longform writing

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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

Text

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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after-witch · 4 years ago

Text

Title: A Gift [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: Your demon lord captor presents you with an unusual and unexpected gift.

Word Count: 2200ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped, blood/violence

Your captor seems unusually on edge--he has been since this morning, when he soundlessly bid the group to pack up camp and began trekking further into the forest much swifter than usual. You don't know why. He wouldn't tell you, even if you dared to ask. So you didn't ask, and merely helped Rin roll up your supplies in a pack, ignoring the way the growing tension in the air made your skin prickle.

You don't know much of anything lately, except the feeling of the ground under your feet as you relentlessly walk from place to place, bound to go where he goes. Being carried on the strange demon beast is no longer a terrifying prospect but a welcome reprieve from the endless marching. You’d walked more in the past months than you ever had in your entire life; you’d lived in a small village, never roaming very far out of fear of animals and bandits and other unknown dangers.

One of those dangers, as it turned out, had been the demon lord Sesshoumaru.

You don't know why you were taken. You don't know why he refuses to let you leave, why he demanded that you join his group, his company, whatever it can be called.

You do know that you fight in what little ways that you can. Which, you admit, aren't many. You pack up deliberately slow, hoping to earn the rare annoyed look that breaks his normally impassive visage. You used to deliberately slow down when you knew he was in a hurry, dragging your legs or feigning a limp. Though once he caught on to your trick, he'd quietly suggested that he simply carry you from then on, and you'd dropped the act.

There is one concession you will never make, no matter what he says. Your biggest weapon against him. You refuse to call him my lord, as he commanded. As Jaken routinely harps on about. As even Rin, in a light, easy way, wonders why you won't. (But there is so much the child doesn't know, and doesn't understand, about your situation.)

Today, you are almost tempted to address him--no lord, of course--to ask if something is wrong. The tension is eating at you, and if the nervous glances of Jaken are anything to go by, you're not the only one who notices it. Perhaps there's something or someone that you can't see, another demon, detectable only by scent. Perhaps he's thinking about his brother, a subject you've only learned about in snatches of conversation, though you learned enough to know that you should never bring him up.

You're tempted to ask, but you don't. Instead you try to take in the scenery around you, walking quietly and pretending for a moment that you're alone. You're walking in the middle of the group, as you usually do; Sesshoumaru ahead of you, Jaken, Rin and the beast behind. This is probably to discourage you from running--not that you've tried to run in a long time. Getting recaptured, losing the thrill of hope in your heart when you think you just might make it this time, is incredibly tiring.

Your feet are often tired, too, but you truthfully you have enjoyed seeing more of the world, more than you would have ever seen near your village. If only it was under different circumstances. You've learned over the months that happiness needs to be taken wherever it can, or else you would simply give in to despair.

A flower species you've never seen, a stunning ray of sunshine through the leaves of the trees, a glimpse of an animal not native to your village. You catalog these things in your mind and think about them at night, counting off the times your heart has been made lighter by them.

So you look around in the hopes of adding new memories to your catalog. Only there isn't much new to add. If anything, you've seen all of these things before. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. Your gaze lingers on a particular bush dotted with bright pink flowers, just like the ones you used to pick, and you half-close your eyes, pretending that you're taking a break from former daily errands; your mother often scolded you when you returned home with a basket full of flowers, but she never hesitated to tie them into your hair or lay them on her table as delicately as a treasure.

The daydream is made easier by the fact that these space is full of old things, old things you once knew. Even that patch of trees is remarkably similar to the ones you knew all your life, trees where you would sometimes be sent to collect bark; and that large rock, it even has the same markings, the same drawings carved in by children in some older generation. A small pond up ahead has the same pebble path, painstakingly laid by the elders for easy fishing grounds.

Oh.

Your legs feel heavy as lead and you stop, suddenly. Jaken yells something behind you about your sudden halt, but you can't make out the exact words. They don't matter, anyway.

That's why he's so on edge. That's why you've been so on edge.

The old things are not just familiar: they're exact. You're near your old village. You know these plants, these trees, the grass beneath your feet. No wonder he's tense, no wonder he's been keeping a breakneck pace since the morning. He wants to get away from this place--does he think you'll try to run back? You're not that stupid, he could kill your entire village in moments if he wanted to. And he might, if you tried to seek shelter there.

The realization weighs you down, even as Rin runs up to you and lightly takes your hand. She tugs you along, and you're gently jerked from your heavy realization until your legs continue to move, barely from their own free will. You glance forward and see that Sesshoumaru is watching, his head tilted back--to see what you would do, you think.

Rin lets go of your hand and runs on ahead, practically skipping past Sesshoumaru in a sudden sprint of childish speed, gaily ignoring Jaken's squawk of protest. Jaken knows better than to break the implied status quo--keep you in the middle--so he grumbles and maintains his slower pace.

But Rin doesn't get all that far ahead of Sesshoumaru before she, too, stops in her tracks.

"Look," she says, lifting her arm and pointing down past the trees, towards what you know will be a view of your village.

You resist the urge to sprint after her, to bridge the gap between you and catch a hill's-eye view of your village that you used to take in almost daily during your errands. You force your feet to remain steady, one-two, one-two--when Sesshoumaru suddenly pivots, and turns towards an opposite path, away from the village and away from the view.

"This way," he says.

"But. Lord Sesshoumaru--" Rin doesn't get a chance to finish when Sesshoumaru begins walking. She merely looks back towards the village with an odd expression, before running to catch up with him.

But you weren't going to be turned away so easily. You deserved a look at your village, didn't you? Just a glance at your former home? He stole your freedom, your life, he couldn't possibly begrudge you a look.

So you keep your feet walking, quiet and nonchalant, intent on getting as far as the clearing where you know you'll be able to see the familiar buildings, the public square where festivals were held, your own home, small and unassuming as it is. Glancing at them again might give you an image to hold onto, something you can think about before bed.

"Come on!" Jaken has pressed on ahead of you, and he's waving at you with the horrid staff he always carries. "Don't be so slow!" He swoops his staff towards Rin and Sesshoumaru, who is now standing still, staring at you. It's unusual. The entire day has been unusual. He doesn't normally bother with something as mundane as waiting--it's up to you, to Rin, to Jaken, to follow and catch up if need be. But he's waiting for you. As if he does begrudge you so much as a look.

"I just--" you start to say, inhaling a deep breath to gather your nerves.

It's then, with this deep breath, that you smell the smoke. It's then that you look up and see it, grey and thick, wafting above the trees, a detail you'd missed in your anxious haste to catch a even glimpse of your former home.

It's then that you push past Jaken, ignoring his protest, and reach the spot where Rin had stopped in her tracks.

Your village--what is left of it--is on fire. Hot, smoking buildings, crumbling and destroyed. You can see dark, red pools of blood--bodies. It was a fresh attack.

In an instant, you take off, barreling down familiar paths that you still know like the back of your hand. You hear your captor say your name, you hear the sound of twigs breaking as he moves to follow you, but you can think of nothing but your home, your family, and what might be left of them.

You reach the village in precious little time, and it feels like walking into a nightmare. Hot air seems to simmer around you from the flames lingering inside buildings, the granary, even the market. The stench of death--blood and fire--makes you gag, and you cover your mouth with your hands. An unidentifiable body, burnt beyond humanity, is curled up against what used to be a home.

The sight propels you through the ruined streets, stepping over blood and remnants of belongings and bodies, until you reach your family’s home. Or what remains. The doorway is open, missing its door, and you cautiously peer inside the humble home that used to be all you knew.

You drop to your knees at the sight of your parents and your little brother, dead on the ground. You crawl towards them and your knees become wet with their blood. You reach out and feel the soft cheek of your mother, a cheek you'd kissed so many times as a child. It's still warm.

You feel the weighty presence of Sesshoumaru behind you and turn around, getting shakily off your knees. He’s standing in the doorway, watching you.

You feel dizzy. You feel sick. From the smoke, from the sights, from the realization that your entire family--your entire world--has been lost.

It's then that you remember his sword. That you remember the story Rin gleefully told you around the fire, about how he'd saved her from death with it. About what it could do, if it was wielded.

You hesitantly step towards him, mind reeling. "They're dead,” you say, as if he can't tell from their lifeless, bloody bodies. "Can you... are they still..." Your voice is hoarse and hurting.

His face is impassive, but he doesn't tell you to leave. He continues to stand in the doorway, staring. You look at him, and then at his sword.

Without hesitation, you get back down on your knees and bow low, ignoring the smell of blood beneath you.

"Please," you say. "Please, my lord Sesshoumaru. Can you save them?"

You don't look up--you can't, out of fear that he'll reject you, your former pride no longer a concern with your families lifeless bodies within arm's reach--but you hear a short, quiet intake of breath in response. You keep yourself still, thoughts racing with memories and empty, fervent prayers without words.

"Go." His voice is low and commanding. "Jaken and Rin are waiting in the clearing."

Your legs seem to obey his command without question, pushing you off the floor and out of your ruined home as you make your way back through the village. You pick up your pace, wanting to wipe away the memory of seeing villagers you knew--villagers who carried you on their backs when you were a child, children you played with, the market women who gave you extra treats--dead on the ground. You don't stop running until you see Rin and Jaken up ahead, Rin looking at you with concern and Jaken--well, you already know you'll hear about your transgression for miles and miles.

When you reach the top of the hill, you spin around and stare at the far-away, ruined building that was your home.

Ages seem to pass before you suddenly see Sesshoumaru emerge from the opened doorway. He walks with no hesitation away from the village, not even glancing at the bodies or ruined buildings around him. He'll be here soon enough. But... was it too late? Did he save them? Did he leave them where they lay? You can feel your family's blood drying on your clothes.

And then, in the ruined doorway--your mother, your father, and your brother peering out cautiously after the demon who'd just saved them. You clap your hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, to avoid calling out. Mercy, mercy, mercy. It's a mercy that you know could never be given twice. They're alive. They'll start over somewhere else and make a new life, somewhere safe, no doubt. Tears flow freely and for the first time in ages, they are not bitter, painful tears, but tears of relief.

You stare at the small figures of your family, watch them disappear back into your home and emerge with cloth sacks strapped to their backs, until they walk down the ruined streets and are blocked from your view. As if on cue, Sesshoumaru walks into view of the clearing. Rin waves, cheerfully; Jaken splutters out ignored questions about what he was doing down there, anyway.

You watch him with tear-filled eyes, eyes that for once are not glaring or hate-filled. He gives you half a glance--did he nod at you? or did you imagine it?--and then looks away, continuing wordlessly down the path he'd taken before you saw your village.

"We're leaving," he says. And you follow.

#yandere #yandere x reader #sesshomaru x reader #sesshoumaru x reader #yandere sesshoumaru #afterwitch writes

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hoeforce-999 · 3 years ago

Text

Salvation

hunter x jedi-reader (female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: minor spoilers for bad batch season 1, angst, grief.

From a young age, you had been taught to handle anger with gentle hands and delicate words, steadily reeling it in so you did not unleash it on people who did not deserve it. As a child being taught the way of the Jedi, you had not understood the dangers of constant anger and fear, but you hadn’t even experienced much of that to begin with. You no longer had the innocent and naive mind of a child ready to take on the world, but rather the one of a war-stricken adult who no longer knew what she was fighting for. You found it harder to control your anger and easier to unleash it. But that was not how you were taught, so again and again, you meditated and focused on your breathing.

and

out

Your attempts to calm the sizzling anger running through your veins were in vain, it would not disappear or calm no matter how many breaths you took. With even more frustration than before you got up from the floor of your barrack and sat down on the little too hard bed. It groaned in response to your weight and even that made you want to rip the white linen apart. You missed the beds at the Jedi temple, they had been soft and welcoming after days of hard training. As you thought of the place you had once called home, the lightsaber hanging from your belt felt heavier than usual. Heavy with the knowledge that you had chosen to leave, heavy with the knowledge of what had transpired after, and heavy with the guilt that you had managed to survive. Of all great padawans and Jedi masters, the one who had left it all behind had been the one to make it out alive. A broken laugh escaped past your sealed lips and echoed through the room, reminding you of a time when that laugh had not been as broken. It felt like it had just been weeks ago since you had been sitting in this ship, surrounded by your unusual team, a group of misfits who somehow fit perfectly together, on your way to another mission. Sometimes those missions had not even felt like obligations, sometimes you had given in to that young Jedi still inside of you and regarded it as your big adventure to save the universe. As it turned out you had barely been able to save yourself, let alone the whole universe. The only way you had gotten out of that last mission with your life intact, had been thanks to your newfound family and their unrelenting wish to protect you. You closed your eyes as the memory of that horrid day engulfed you in a veil of darkness and sorrow. There would not come a day when you would forget how all those clone troopers around you, Depa Billaba and young padawan Caleb had turned their blasters towards you. You would not forget how you and Depa Billapa had fought to give the child a chance, a chance to survive as the universe turned against him. Then she had fallen, becoming an empty shell without the spirit of the warrior who had once been and now no longer was. The memory of her death was haunting and your whole body was shaking with the fury you had felt and still felt as if it had been engraved in your soul. Though your memory was the reminder of something from your past, the fear you had experienced was still palpable as you thought about how close you had been to meeting the same fate. There had been no doubt in your mind that you would fall next, join her in another life with the only regret that you did not get to bid your farewells to your squad. Almost as if they had heard that silent wish to see them again, they had appeared with their blasters raised and saved your life. One of them, in particular, had fought as if his life depended on it. His chestnut-colored hair had been all over his face as he finally got to you, that red bandana he always wore was in his hands as he carefully put it around one of your wounds. He had been so tender with you as if his touch would have been the last point for you to break. It might have been, had you not been so caught up in the fact that whatever had gotten over the other clones, had left your friends alone. You had been relieved for all of them, but most of all for him, the clone who somehow had managed to take up such a big place in your heart that it had become his.

Hunter, Hunter, Hunter

You escaped your memory and forced it into the darkest corner of your mind, wishing to never again experience it again. Instead, you tried to focus on his name, tried to busy your mind with thoughts of what he was doing or things he had said to you. He was usually enough to calm the distressed state you seemed to fall into more often now, but not today. It seemed as if all your tries to calm your anger and fear were hopeless, for you could only feel them rising as a force strong enough to drown you. When you felt how the darkness grew inside of you, you thought back to the words a certain Jedi master had repeated time after time, etching them into every young mind so they would not forget.

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

You had not forgotten and neither had the warning bells ringing in your mind, but for such a long time you had been fighting against that dark part of you and you were growing so damn tired. This was a battle you had been struggling to win for some time now, and you were on the brink of giving up. It felt as if you should, perhaps then you could become stronger and actually do something for this universe. Maybe you would be able to bring your other friend back, the brother who had left and when given the choice, had turned his back on you again. You had been so furious as he stayed on the platform in front of a destroyed Kamino, there had been so much rage towards a universe that seemed to take everyone away from you. The darkness inside of you relished in your anger and the guilt that gnawed at your soul, and then it started to soothe you with silent promises of what you could do, who you could become if you only gave in. You could have sworn that the darkness sighed in relief as you leaned further into its embrace, perhaps this would be for the best.

yes, you can have so much more and that was true, right? You would have more power than you had now, you would be able to save everyone you loved and never have to experience that heavy feeling of loss again.

yes, yes and so much more it chanted inside of you, drawing you further and further into it and you could almost have laughed because this was so much easier and not so horrid as those Jedi masters had preached to you. Somewhere in your head, those warning bells were still ringing, that young Jedi in you still fighting for dear life but you could do nothing else but savor how welcoming the darkness felt. It was becoming you, it became every breath you took, every beat of your heart, and every memory you had until they were all clouded by the same rage you had felt for weeks. This was not giving up, this was giving in to something else, something that would make your life more bearable. You were not even aware of your own body anymore, it felt as if you were floating away from it or perhaps sinking so deep into it, you would never escape.

This is the right choice, you will be one to fear and never again feel fear yourself. You will do so much for the universe that gave you so little. You will-.

The chants inside of your mind were interrupted by a buzzing sound, and as you tried to locate the interruption you realized that it was not a buzzing sound but rather a soft voice calling your name. Oh, and your name on his lips always sounded like the soft drizzle of syrup and so that darkness in you was momentarily interrupted by Hunter.

This is just a memory, he is not real. You hummed in response, the darkness was right, this was just a ploy played by your own mind. Once again you found yourself sinking deeper into those feelings of rage, grief, and despair. Though it was as if you could still hear his voice saying your name, and then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you as if he somehow could wake you up from a nightmare you had chosen to dwell in. He must be able to sense the change in you, that was one of his enhancements after all, hypersensitive to everything around him. Your name on his lips and his hands on your body ignited a battle inside of you, for just as there was a wish to forget there was a desire to hear more words from him.

“Cyar'ika, I can’t lose you too.”

Right, if you succumbed to the darkness you would lose him. He who had saved you in so many different ways that it felt as if you had a hundred debts to pay him. Maybe he was enough, maybe you did not need all this power that the dark side promised you. Perhaps his hand in yours would be enough for you to keep on fighting and as if he could hear your thoughts, his grip on your shoulders tightened. You knew then, that he would always be enough for you and so you joined the young Jedi in you and started fighting, fought for the girl who had once believed she could save everyone, fought for the friends she had lost, and fought for the love she had gained. Your whole body shuddered as you tried to force that darkness out of your mind, it was backing away slowly, not really wanting to give up this battle. But it would, because when you finally gained control of yourself again and looked into Hunter’s eyes the love that shone in them would have been enough to shatter every ounce of darkness in the universe. The anger and fear you had felt had vanished, never gone but perhaps tamed, and you let out a gasp, almost as if you had been drowning underwater. His hands were on your face and a small smile formed on his lips as he saw that you were you again.

“Hi.” You could not help the small smile that tugged on your lips either, there was just so much relief that you had not given in and that this man once again had managed to drag you out of your inner despair. You lifted a hand to stroke some of his hair away, it was soft as velvet beneath your fingers. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on yours, his hard grip on your shoulders remained as if he was scared that you would vanish again if he let go. So he kept on holding you and you kept on twirling his hair, both relieved that the other was whole.

“Glad to have you back.” He whispered and you promised yourself to never again let yourself be so close to letting him go. The darkness had been wrong, you did not need anger or power to never feel fear again. The only thing you needed was to stay with the person who would make it all bearable. Sometimes a person finds pieces of their soul in another, and when that happens you need to cling to that someone with all you have, for they are your salvation. He was yours.

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x jedi-reader #hunter x you #hunter x y/n #bad batch hunter #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #bad batch imagines #the bad batch imagines #crosshair x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader

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homerforsure · 3 years ago

Text

Whumptober No. 6 Bruises / Touch Starved / Hunger Whumptober No. 30 major character death / left for dead / ghosts

Me: I can’t believe I have to post this absolutely incomprehensible piece of writing.

Me: You don’t... have to?

Me: No, I’m gonna.

Buck has an exceptional number of pillows on his bed. There are six, before he knocks a few to the floor every night, and he burrows into them like a nest, curling up with one against his chest, two pressed against his back, one between his legs. His sheets are a ridiculously priced, cool, crisp cotton that welcomes him in, surrounding him. The blankets he uses aren’t weighted, but they’re heavy and thick and he keeps his air conditioning turned up so he doesn’t have to give up the feeling of nestling into them in the heat of summer. Along with the white noise machine on his night stand, all of it is chosen to trick him into sleep. To keep back the feeling that night time in his own apartment is the loneliest part of Buck’s day.

It wasn’t perfect, pre-covid. It’s been a long time since Buck had someone share his space, share his bed, someone he could reach out and touch whenever he wanted. But his life outside of home was full. He didn’t lack for closeness; in some ways he had more than he’d ever dreamed. So while he had lonely moments, they weren’t a constant ache in his chest.

These months though. These months hurt. Facetime isn’t a substitute for curling up on Maddie’s couch with whatever silly-labeled wine she’d liked best that week. It’s definitely not a substitute for Eddie’s couch and losing to Christopher over and over again at Mario Kart. The last time they talked, Eddie had reached over and ruffled Christopher’s hair and Buck felt it. First as a tingle up the back of his scalp and then as a bruise to his heart. Eddie’s touches, so constant and so casual, became essential somewhere along the way and Buck feels himself reaching out for them even when he knows it’s not allowed.

“Six feet, gentlemen,” Bobby says gently when their orbits swing toward each other and Eddie makes a dramatic show of raising his hands and taking a giant step backward. Bobby just shakes his head and reminds them it’s the price they all agreed to pay for not wearing masks in the firehouse.

Buck starts dreading the end of a call when taking off his heavy turnout coat leaves him feeling cold and exposed. He folds into himself, claiming a chair, putting in earbuds and crossing his arms tight over his chest, pulling his knees up even though he knows better than to put his shoes on the furniture.

It’s a similar position to the one he lies in at night, clinging to the pillows, trying to draw comfort out of the smooth fabric. In those moments, his loneliness is so loud it might as well be a beacon sent out into the universe, a burning shout of need.

And that shout is heard.

***

“Have you guys heard of exploding head syndrome?” Buck asks one morning when the calls are slow and the crew is all lingering in a lazy way rather than rushing off to take care of their other duties.

“What, the band?” Chimney asks.

“I think it was an album,” Bobby says.

“No,” Buck sighs. “It’s a sleep thing. It’s this loud noise that you hear when you’re falling asleep like a massively loud explosion. Only it’s just happening in your head.”

“Is your brain actually exploding? Like an aneurism?”

“No. It’s just the noise.”

Just the loudest noise Buck had ever heard. It woke him up with a feeling of abject terror. It was an explosion that didn’t echo. It just rang, clear and true through his eardrums like the end of the world. Even as he struggled out of his sheets, searching for the source so he could run from it, part of him knew it wasn’t a sound that left any physical evidence. What could it even be? A sound like that? An old fashioned safe dropping from two stories up? A car crash without the crunch? Just a high speed collision of two immovable objects, all of the equal and opposite reaction of their momentum forced to escape as sound.

Once his heart rate had slowed, he googled. He wasn’t initially sure what to google. “Ridiculously loud noise woke me up” seemed at once too vague and too specific but sure enough. Exploding Head Syndrome. It was what happened. Obviously. But Buck remained too full of adrenaline to sleep. As he sat up in bed, he couldn’t shake the urge to look around. Under the bed, in the closet, behind the shower curtain. He didn’t feel alone.

“I’m just glad it’s happening in your head instead of mine,” Chim laughs. “Maybe try putting some earmuffs on before you go to sleep tonight.” ***

The sound doesn’t reappear. Buck is relieved, but sleeping doesn’t get any easier. He tries to soothe himself with obscenely long hot baths, by ordering a hoodie that’s more fluff than fabric, by running a foam roller across his muscles, trying to pry them into relaxation. It’s so much work and it does so little. Buck’s entire body is screaming out at all times for a hug or a massage or even just a really fucking good haircut. It takes longer and longer to fall asleep and the little sleep he does get isn’t restful. It’s like whatever meager comfort he manages to give himself during the day is leached away in the night.

He doesn’t even notice the bruises at first. It’s an easy enough thing to miss. Their job is heavy physical labor and Buck barrels through a scene like a one man stampede. Bruises are as common as the smell of smoke in his hair. The ones Eddie points out on his arm though are different.

Buck’s carrying a kitten at the time. The fire they’ve been fighting is beaten back to smolders. Buck shucked off his coat, wet and dripping from the hose and too cold for the shaking animal, and grabbed a blanket from the ambulance to wrap her up and cradle her against his chest. He’s rubbing his face against her damp fur, feeling the softness like a concentrated shot of endorphins when Eddie asks, “What the hell happened to you?”

“What are you talking about?” Buck asks and Eddie’s hands are pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up to his shoulders while Buck’s trying to hold onto the cat.

“You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what?” He’s maybe a little ruder than he means to be but the sleep deprivation makes him cranky and the touch deprivation means that Eddie’s gently probing fingers feel like a dream on his skin. The care in the brush of his hands makes Buck’s knees weak.

“Your arms are bruised to hell,” Eddie says. “Are you- Did someone grab you or something?”

“I swear to god, Eddie. I don’t feel anything.” Except grumpy and exhausted and longing.

“Jesus, it goes all the way up your shoulders. It looks like-” He stops, pulling Buck’s collar aside and tracing a small spot that Buck can’t see even if he turns his head. “They look like fingerprints, Buck. Are you seeing someone?”

“What!”

“These are handprints. And they’re dark. Do you really not-”

Buck wrenches himself from Eddie’s grasp so he can turn around and look at him because if Eddie’s really accusing him of putting everyone at risk by trying to date someone right now… But Eddie’s face is nothing but concerned. Which makes Buck scared.

“Is it really that bad?” he asks, clutching the cat to his chest.

Eddie rubs a hand up Buck’s back (it feels so good, hot like Buck’s t-shirt isn’t even between them and is it just because it’s been so long or just because it’s Eddie?) without looking around to see if Bobby’s watching and that’s really all the confirmation Buck needs. It’s bad.

***

After that, Buck starts to feel them. He wakes up and he can’t breathe. He wakes up and he can’t move. He wakes up on the floor. He spends every moment that he’s asleep fighting to wake up. Buck can only remember fragments and pieces of the torment but he knows that it feels like drowning. Like being held down. Like being grabbed and pulled and smothered. He thinks he remembers long dark hair.

Google is useless. Sleep apnea. Sleep paralysis. Sleep terrors. Even sleepwalking. None of them can account for the worst of it. For the physical signs of whatever is happening to him while he sleeps.

Bruises bloom blue on the pale skin of his hips. Purple on his ribs. Green on the back of his neck. The ones that Eddie saw first on his arm fade to yellow. A long scratch runs down the side of his face. Dark circles under his eyes grow darker every day.

“What’s happening to me?” he asks his reflection.

All he wants is to be able to ask that question with someone’s arms around him. He wants anyone to hold him tight and shush his fears and tell him that it’ll be okay.

It’s easier than he thought to hide it. Buck just chooses his shower times strategically and opts for a long sleeve uniform, complaining that he ruined his short sleeves ones by grabbing bleach instead of detergent while he was half asleep.

He’s always half asleep these days.

At least in the bunk rooms, he gets some semblance of rest. Whatever presence he feels in his own bedroom doesn’t cross this threshold and Buck sleeps deeply, almost missing the scream of the alarm.

“It’s getting worse isn’t it?” Eddie asks, cornering Buck in the locker room. Buck can’t help but nod and Eddie steps closer as if to touch him.

Buck flinches away and Eddie pulls up short as though hitting an invisible wall.

He breathes Buck’s name on a pained exhale and says, “You have to get some help. Whatever it is…”

“I don’t know what it is!’ Buck answers. “It’s living in my house and it- it- God. Maybe I need an exorcism.”

“Maybe you should come home with me,” Eddie suggests and Buck recoils again.

The firehouse seems safe but there’s no guarantee that Buck won’t be followed anywhere else. He’s desperate to be safe--desperate for Eddie to make him safe--but not at the expense of anyone else. Not when he doesn’t know what he’s facing.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “But call me in the morning.”

***

The burned girl screams louder when she sees Buck than she did while they were putting out the inferno of her car.

“Stay away from me!” She shrieks. “Stay awaystayawaystayaway.”

“Miss, we’re going to need you to calm down,” Hen says to her. “Buck, you wanna move aside? Like preferably somewhere she can’t see you?”

Buck does because the patient’s well-being is more important than anything, but his skin feels like ice. He wants to demand to know what else she sees when she looks at him. Wants to know how she knows. For half a second, he imagines following her to the hospital and waiting for her outside the glass doors.

They aren’t far from her house (52% of accidents happen within five miles of home) and the girl’s father arrives on the scene before they finish prepping her to be transported. And he sees Buck.

He freezes when he does, but at least he doesn’t scream. He ignores Buck completely, instead going to the ambulance where his daughter is still crying and trying to soothe her. Hen offers to let him ride in the ambulance, but he says that he’ll take his car.

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” he says, returning to Buck as the ambulance pulls away. “What you summoned… That’s not a normal ghost.”

“I didn’t summon anything! It just happened.” Buck’s voice is high-pitched and he just barely stops himself from grabbing onto the man’s arm, but the man doesn’t seem afraid of Buck the way his daughter was. “What is it? How do I make it go away?”

The man shrugs, “She came in through an open door. Which door depends on the person. But she’ll do everything in her power to keep it pried open. All you can do is try to close it again.”

It is… the least helpful advice Buck’s ever been given in his entire life. But the man’s daughter is on her way to the hospital and he needs to follow her. He vanishes.

***

They’re about to have four days off. Buck’s bracing himself to meet the woman in his dreams. To look around in that dreamspace for open doors and slam them shut again. He can do it. He has to.

***

The next night Buck wakes up and he can’t move. He’s paralyzed on the bed. He’s paralyzed on the bed and someone’s standing at the top of his stairs.

She’s not… right. Buck can’t quite see in the dark and he can’t lift his head but the woman on his stairs isn’t solid in the way a human should be. The outline of her is strong, but it’s like she’s a shell wrapped around a cavernous emptiness. She’s across the room but she’s already pulling at him.

Buck tries to thrash but his arms are pinned as if her hands are already on his wrists. He needs to reach the lamp. If he can just turn on the light.

“Get away from me,” he pleads and the part of her face where lips should be turns up, revealing pointed teeth that stand in front of a void.

“You called me,” she says. The words don’t come from her mouth and Buck doesn’t hear them with his ears. It’s wrong wrong wrong. He throws himself hard to the left and he rolls, flying further than he expected to, suddenly free, and crashes hard into the table, knocking the lamp to the floor. It shatters, bulb and all and pain scrapes across Buck’s shoulders.

“Poor boy,” the ghost mocks. “Poor lonely boy. Just wants someone to touch him. Just wants someone to stay with him. I heard you.”

“No,” Buck says and he tries to scramble, but his feet can’t find purchase on the floor. “I didn’t want you.”

He doesn’t deny the call. Can’t deny it when his heart is reaching out in the same pleading, desperate way now. Please. Anyone.

In the time it takes to blink she’s in front of him. She’s so close. She shouldn’t be able to get that close without standing on him but she’s there. Her voice whispers in his mind, “You should choose your words more carefully.”

And then her hands are around his throat.

The pressure is insistent and her motive is unmistakable. She’s going to kill him. She’s going to squeeze the life out of him. He’s going to die here and Eddie’s going to find his body because Eddie’s going to come rushing over as soon as Buck doesn’t call him in the morning and what if this thing is still here waiting for him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Buck’s mind yells for him like his lungs did when Eddie was buried except now it’s Buck who’s too far away, who’s trapped somewhere deep and dark with no hope of escape.

He tries to breathe and his breath whistles. It’s like the first time someone handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee and he tried to drink through the plastic stir stick. Black stars twinkle in the room and tears build in his eyes.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

There’s a shift as she adjusts her grip and it’s enough for the stars to clear. Buck throws himself forward, shaking his head like he isn’t a ragdoll trapped in the jaws of a rottweiler, like he has a hope of breaking free and then he does. The ghost is thrown off balance and Buck jumps, scrambling back over his bed for the stairs. He can’t even think about defeating her, finding out the secrets of where she came from, closing whatever fucking door he left open. All Buck wants to do is live.

A force behind him swells like a wave to lift Buck off his feet and slams him into the bathroom door. He expects to slide off of it and onto the floor, but he’s held in place hard, his head turned and his cheek pressed to the wood, toes just brushing the ground.

“You begged me to come,” the ghost hisses. “I’m here for you, lonely boy. Don’t fight so hard.”

A hand skims up his back, nearly gentle, but leaving a numbness in its path and Buck shudders in disgust. He jerks against the door, but his arms are wrenched behind him and he screams. He realizes it’s the first time he has.

“I didn’t call you! I don’t want you here! Get out.”

“I came because you needed me.” A long finger trails down his cheek and Buck whimpers. She’s taller than him now. Was she always? “I could feel you from so far away. An aching ball of need. I’m here for you now.”

“I don’t need you,” Buck growls and the room flashes like lightning. He hopes to fall, almost expects to fall, where he can scramble again but instead, Buck is hurled away from the door completely. He has time to see that he’s above the stairs, throw his hands out uselessly and then he’s frozen.

Buck hovers there in the air above the stairs, dangling in the grip of the ghost, like a cat grabbed by his scruff. Kicking wildly, he grabs for the invisible hand that’s holding him, yelling “No, no, no, no.”

“Need me now?” the ghost asks.

Smothering the terrified part of him that nearly answers yes, Buck forces himself to stop twisting and just hang there. He doesn’t want to fall. He doesn’t want to die. But what he needs isn’t going to come from the ghost.

“No,” he answers.

And he can’t explain how he knows what her face looks like when it’s screwed up in fury, but he does. It’s vicious and vindictive and Buck’s not surprised at all when he’s flicked away from her and down the flight of stairs.

He seems to hit each one as he falls, something that should be impossible with the speed that he’s traveling and the force with which he bounces off of them, but the ghost is obviously responsible. Air leaves his lungs as his ribs crack against the stairs. His elbows and knees scrape. His head bangs the rail. Buck’s long, long legs seem to tangle as he falls, cartwheeling him down and he lands in a heap at the bottom.

As he tries to figure out if he can still move, the door flies open.

Warmth rushes in. Buck hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten since he first woke up, but the room seems to thaw around him. It’s like sunlight.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Evan. Buck. I’ve got you, Buck. I’ve got you.”

Tenderly, he scoops Buck off the floor, unsnarling the mess of his limbs and feeling all over for the damage he can’t see. “I’ve got you. Open your eyes. Come on.”

The ghost stands at the top of the stairs and then she’s at the bottom. Buck clambers backward again, digging his heels into the floor to push himself upright in front of Eddie, to try and hide him from view. Eddie doesn’t seem to see the ghost. All of his attention is still on Buck, stroking his hair, promising over and over that he’s there, that he has Buck.

All of the ghost’s attention is on Buck too. “You need me,” she says. “You called for me.” She sounds different now. Bitter. Like Buck wasted her precious time.

“I don’t need you,” he says and he reaches behind him to grab Eddie’s hand. “I already have everything I need.”

Lights flicker and that impossibly loud sound bangs in Buck’s ears again. He gets one last look at the ghost’s vicious, violent visage and then she’s gone.

And then Buck wakes up.

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