#on how solving the problem will never be as simple as killing the enemy right in front of you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zeta-in-de-walls · 3 years ago

Text

Tommy’s character and the theme of failure

One thing I’ve always rather appreciated about Tommy’s story in the Dream SMP is how it explores the idea of failure. It can be a challenging one to do right as it means exploring a character’s weakness a lot and can start to feel unsatisfying if the character never succeeds but I feel like Tommy’s story avoids this issue as his arc is ultimately an encouraging one. His character never stops trying or gives up in spite of his losses, showing the perseverance to keep going until eventually he starts to find happiness, no matter how elusive it seems.

Tommy’s character is no stranger to failure of course but I’d say this theme starts to become prominent with November the 16th. Tommy had two goals: to save L’Manberg and to save Wilbur. He was pretty optimistic about both. And he failed. The day ended in disaster with Wilbur dead, Technoblade, his idol, mocking his heroism and telling him to die, and his home in ruins. It takes him a long time to come to terms with who Wilbur was, separating Wilbur into two in his mind: President Wilbur and the ‘crazy’ Wilbur who blew up L’Manburg.

But Tommy continues on, quietly moving on as L’Manburg gets rebuilt. No matter what, he still believes in L’Manburg; it’s still alive. Also, he wants to finally get his remaining disc back from Dream, feeling the need to do this after putting it aside for so long.

But of course, things don’t go well. That which he had taken for granted, his bond with Tubbo, was under fire. His personal wish to get his discs back was causing division. A simple prank gone wrong was tearing everything apart as Dream threatened L’Manburg once again. None of these things were purely Tommy’s actions, and yet his actions played a part all the same as Dream essentially took advantage of all of Tommy’s weaknesses. Tommy was being viewed as a liability, a troublemaker, as self-centred, as a problem.

Tommy’s character likely blamed himself somewhat for his failure with Wilbur and L’Manburg the first time but it had been out of his hands and his reactions were more shock than being truly broken by the events and he kept up his optimism. Yet this time, the problems were not things far beyond his control. It seemed it was his own mistakes spelling his doom and it impacted him quite severely. As much as he recognised Dream as an antagonist here, his friends distrust of him was his failure. Despite his best efforts, he could not convince Tubbo not to exile him.

Rather than seeing the fairly resilient, optimistic Tommy like the first time he was banished, this time Tommy’s defeated. We see the full effects it takes on his mental state and the narrative does not pull its punches. Tommy’s already depressed and we start to see evidence of suicidal thoughts very quickly. This is all made far, far worse by Dream who encourages his dark thoughts and feelings of worthlessness, telling him everyone’s better off without him while breaking his spirit and making him miserable by repeatedly blowing up his items.

Dream was of course Tommy’s enemy, he’d recognised before that what Dream had been doing to L’Manburg, with the obsidian walls and insisting on banishing Tommy, had been unfair even if Tommy had been helpless to stop him. Yet over exile we see him really start to internalise Dream’s words, starting to really believe that narrative that he is unloved and a liability, despite his best efforts. As his mental state worsens we see him starting to believe Dream’s lies so much that he begins to believe that Dream is really his friend who cares about him. Meanwhile, he’s angrier and lashing out at the people he cares about, we seem him kill Jack, break the bridges he built and generally lashing out at the people he misses the most.

So through exile, we see Tommy at his weakest and most vulnerable. We also see some of his flaws with his uglier side, his uncontrolled emotions, his dependency on others, his deep self-worth issues and how he can be so successfully lied to. This deep exploration of Tommy’s character allows us to really see how the repeated failures and setbacks and losses affected his character mentally and depict it as yet another obstacle he needs to overcome.

And ultimately he does, ultimately deciding to fight back and run away from exile on his own. Tommy’s arc goes to very depressing places but manages to remain an inspiring story by showing you at his weakest and yet also show him never truly giving up but pressing on, in search of that happy ending. Running away from exile has him also realising that Dream is his enemy, not his friend and he commits to fighting back against him.

But of course the narrative doesn’t entirely move on. Tommy’s struggles and failures continue to plague him as the mental issues he has with self-worth and his confused feelings towards Dream do not go away. He managed to continue but that wasn’t the perfect victory as most of his problems are still there and he’s still the same person. at Techno’s house, we see him and his confusion. He’s lighthearted and joking about but he’s still deeply troubled without a clear stance on Dream or L’Manburg or Tubbo and he clings to the idea of the disc as a simple goal. It seems as if he’s doomed to become the person he hated or make the same mistakes again. He once failed to save Wilbur and it seems as if his greatest failure would be to go down Wilbur’s path too, blowing up the country he once loved.

And Tommy nearly goes too far. He finally meets Tubbo again and his anger, his issues all come back as does some self-centred behaviour as he declares that ‘the discs are worth more than you ever were’.

And he immediately regrets it. He apologises, he turns around and gives them up to Dream. He won’t let himself turn into Wilbur.

And yet, every little victory he fights so hard for is met with an even greater failure. He switches sides on Technoblade while giving Dream exactly what he wanted. His story isn’t a happy one in spite of him trying his very best and making the decisions that are right for him. And we can only wonder how inevitable it was or if he could’ve done better for he hurts Techno deeply. Is he doing better or does his very nature doom him to make the same mistakes again and again?

Once ore, we see L’Manburg blown up and this time Tommy declares it a lost cause. Despite his best efforts, it’s over and we can only stare at the ruins of the nation he’d once helped build with Wilbur. Additionally, Tommy is dead to Techno now, that relationship seemingly broken forever.

But it’s not the end. Tommy is defeated once more, with each failure hitting harder than the last but he doesn’t give up. He keeps on fighting. For all he’s lost, he’s won Tubbo back, and the experiences may have been terrible but he has learned something through all of it. Even if all that is, is understanding suffering a bit better and getting back the courage to apologise and reconcile.

He and Tubbo go after Dream and it’s almost, almost too late. He’s nearly locked in prison forever and Tubbo almost killed.

But it’s not end. Just this once, it’s not a failure. They bet it all and finally had that victory. The rest of the server comes to save them and Dream gets locked in his prison while Tommy and Tubbo are finally free.

Course, Tommy’s story isn’t over there. And the thing with this theme of failure is that it keeps on cropping up. They may have finally gotten a victory but Tommy’s issues aren’t over. he tries to start again, building his hotel but the trauma from exile has made an impact on him. It’s something that can’t be solved in a day, but only over a long time. And despite everything, the issues keep coming back. Tommy feels like things are unresolved with Dream and visits him again.

And he gets locked in prison and dies and then gets resurrected. And its all absolutely devastating and it seems as if Tommy will never get better, that he’ll never truly have his happy ending. His hotel gets stolen from him and its as if everything he tries to do ends in failure.

He tries to sort things out, tries solving things with killing Dream and it just gets Ghostbur killed and the guilt can only eat at him. Wilbur is back at Tommy’s afraid but time has passed and he’s starting to see Wilbur more for who he is. After all he’s been through, he understands him way better than he did before. He once more commits to helping him but Tommy isn’t the naive kid he once was.

Tommy still lives in the very same spot he always did. He still wants the same things he always did: a home, security, peace, friends, and he’s been experiencing many losses. And yet, his story is not a hopeless one. Because in spite of all that’s happened, he’s still trying again. And he’s learned and can avoid making those mistakes again. Right now, he’s doing better, he’s committing to living peacefully in a way he hasn’t in a long time. He’s been attempting to build bridges and though all his failures haunt him, he is gradually healing day by day, still trying to find that happy ending.

I think Tommy’s story is very cool for the way it really explores these themes of failure. It does not pull its punches, its dark, never easy or straightforward but that’s also what makes it so powerful. Those bright spots, feel so good, they feel so rewarding because they were so hard-fought. We root for Tommy’s character because we’ve seen his journey and really feel he deserves his happy end even though its never going to be perfect and indeed every failure is a mixture of forces outside of his control and his character which he has been trying to improve, learning to be nicer, more forgiving and more aware of his own emotions. He can’t fix Dream nor does he know how best to help Wilbur but he can help himself and that’s what he’s always trying to do. He holds himself to account and always tries his best.

#tommyinnit #meta #analysis #dream smp #long post #finally got round to writing this #dream smp meta #heh i blame the music i was listening to #ive been thinking about this subject a lot but suddenly listening to this song called 'the same mistake' one too many times #and i finally wrote my thoughts out #this is mostly from his character's perspective if it sounds like im blaming tommys character a lot here #he's biased ofc - he's just trying his best and didn't deserve the consequences he received #aaah a lot of characters on the smp have failures but i like how tmmys really toy with the ideas of failure a lot #i love character who never give up no matter how many times they fail a i find it super encouraging #so yeha i do love tommys character

202 notes · View notes

itsnothingofinterest · 4 years ago

Text

Something I think worth mentioning about villain redemptions is, in addition to people just liking the characters; one reason the villain fans want redemptions for the League is that their redemptions would almost certainly signify the addressing & remedy of serous systemic issues that have affected many characters and aspects of the series, and have been felt since the first line of the series.

It’s no secret that the world of HeroAca is plagued with systemic issues rooted in inequality, corruption, and the gross mishandling of quirks among other things. These have affected both villains like Shigaraki, Dabi, Toga, & Spinner, and hero students like Izuku, Shoto, Shinsou, & Shoji. However while the students’ character focus is, on average, about how to overcome these hurdles to become good heroes and what kind of heroes that makes them; the villains’ character focus is more on what to actually do about the systemic issues they were never able to just overcome, and so are attempting to tackle full force. In other words, the handling of the villains is seemingly going to be directly tied and inversely correlated to the handling of those systemic issues and, in turn, just how many problems are really going to be solved in the aftermath and not rear their heads again..

The Problems

It’s like this: people often like to compare BNHA to Avatar: The Last Airbender (probably because of Todoroki’s resemblance to Zuko, even though his position is more like a less Azula-ish Azula, but that’s beside the point), and have even made comparisons between Shigaraki & Dabi and Ozai. Now that’s more than a bit weird, but we’re gonna role with that to explain something.

See, the thing about Ozai is, he was in a position of power; a position from which he and the last 2 Fire Lords had effectively caused all of the problems. And the reason they did that was basically just because they were arrogant; they thought the Fire Nation was better than everywhere else. Meanwhile; the Gaang had Zuko, the next in line to the throne who had been enlightened by his travels about the values of the other nations & how wrong the Fire Nation’s way of doing things was. The Gaang new if they defeat Ozai & Azula, he gets that position of power and will cease all the problems arising from it. For them, that part of the plan was simple: defeat the big bad = no more problems.

For Shigaraki & the League, it’s no where near that easy. See, while they have acquired power in various forms; they’re really just average joes picked off the street. Naturally occurring misanthropes produced by societal failures like oppression, abuse, inequality, prejudice, corruption, and other such topics. Heck, Jin’s name means ‘humanity’; both as in compassion, but also as in a face in the crowd (or rather the entire crowd). And Shigaraki even once compared them all to maggots crawling out of the trash piles the heroes swept under the rug. And you aren’t gonna accomplish much just squashing the maggots; they’re just gonna keep coming faster & faster as the piles get bigger & bigger, and even without a League we’d just see more Kaminos, Fukuokas, Daikas, & Jakus. The thing they need to address is the trash piles, the issues in society, in order to actually stop the problems.

The Easy-Yet-Hard Solutions

“Well, okay,” you might say, “but can’t those societal problems get addressed and the villains still get killed or jailed for life, as are the consequence for their actions?” Well technically yes, that is possible, but the problem is it would be a very, very, very hard sell to the audience.

For one; not many on the heroes’ side see these things as problems. To most of them, the biggest problem in society is that it needs more All Might. Not to say there’s no one in the country who thinks society needs to change...but there is the slight hurdle that a good number of them joined the PLF, and are presumably headed off to Death Row for association with Shigaraki. (You may think that’s an extreme assumption, but Kurogiri got worse for very similar crimes.) This doesn’t exactly discount our heroes tackling all those root issues we discussed; but, well, it’s a bit hard to believe the heroes might try to change society in accordance with the wishes of people we assume they’ll just think of as enemies until the end. (Especially regarding the necessary changes that might inconvenience the heroes.)

What’s more, the villains most directly represent the victims of those issues, so it’s hard to separate their treatment from the handling of those issues. There’s just some dissonance in the idea he heroes would be like “In our pursuit of justice, we shall ensure no hero has the power to abuse their family any more, and shall hold heroes accountable for any breaches of the law they commit. But as a separate matter, screw Dabi. Life in prison for him and he’s (debatably) lucky we’re not killing him. Endeavor of course shall walk free because he’s trying to change, and he’s gone through so much, and he means so much to us.” Like I said, that’s a hard sell. It gives off the impression that the heroes are just doing what they’ve always been doing, which conflicts with the idea that they’re then going to change things.

The Hard-Yet-Easy Solutions

Conversely, if the villains get redeemed and end up working with the heroes; societal restructuring to remedy those systemic root causes of villainy are all but guaranteed. They know better than most what problems there are in society, seem to have thought pretty hard on how to fix them or what alternative systems could be installed, and have no reason to be coy about any of that. The heroes, conversely, tend to have the faith in humanity to think they can better the world without needing any acts of terrorism, and the societal sway to then actually do it. Or at least will acquire that sway, if we’re assuming the UA students are gonna end up doing most of the leg work on this.

In short, each side has about half of what’s really needed to guarantee a societal remedy that’ll ensure we don’t get any more naturally occurring Shigarakis, Dabis, & Togas; and in turn that we don’t end up right back where we are now eventually.

It’s not quite accurate to say they need to work together on this; both sides could accomplish this restructuring on their own. But with the heroes, it’s highly questionable if they’d even think to change things if they get the chance, and how how hard they’d really try if they did; and with the villains we know they’d put their all into it, but it would incur massive costs in human life. If the villains get redeemed though, and the two sides work together on this? It’s very easy to believe the presence of one side would entirely eliminate the issues in the other’s methods. The best solution is the one that comes from both sides working together; and that’s probably why Izuku & Shigaraki’s quirks each ended up being named after half the phrase “All for one and one for all”.

Conclusion

Look. I get it. The League are terrorists, there’s no getting around that, and at times it can feel like the villains fans ignore this. But that truth is that it’s more complicated than that.

Shigaraki’s inner circle are simultaneously some of the victims most in need of saving & some of the greatest threats the HeroAca-verse has ever faced. They are, in several ways, the greatest conflict a hero could ever face, and how a hero would handle them would define not only the type of hero they are but also the quality of hero they are. I’m just saying; a high quality hero that’d save them, the real Plus Ultra-type, would probably be the kind best suited to taking care of those metaphorical garbage piles and reach that “no more problems” state you usually want your stories to end in.

Does that really mean they need to get away with everything they’ve done? Honestly, got me buddy. Like I said, from a hero’s perspective, their situation is complicated; so if you’re looking for the perfect solution for how a hero should handle them, it’ll probably be pretty complicated in itself. To me personally, that stuff seems like details. What I’m most prioritizing is if we’ll get the best resolution to the root issues as possible.

#bnha #league of villains #lov #paranormal liberation front #PLF #shigaraki tomura #dabi #toga himiko #spinner #twice #jin bubaigawara #midoriya izuku #shoto todoroki #hitoshi shinsou #mezo shoji #class 1a #anti endeavor #hero society

605 notes · View notes

pigeonp0st · 4 years ago

Note

Hey can you do a fic where reader is under mind control of some sort from an enemy and is forced to attack Nat and the rest of the avengers and Nat has to talk her out of it and calm her down something rlly intense and angsty pls

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #6

Words: 2,177

Warnings: Agnst

(tell me if there’s more I should add)

Notes:

I realized after I finished writing that I didn’t have Nat talk R out of it like you asked...I solved it in another way...i’m sorry!! I hope you enjoy anyways, thanks a lot for requesting (and sorry for spelling mistakes...there’s probably a lot) also sorry for this in general...I’m disappointed in it and the ending...I was sleep deprived and delirious for half of it...

———

It was supposed to be a simple mission, and a simple day. You and Nat had planned to head to the beach for the first time in a long time afterwards and everything. It was supposed to be a good day.

Good day...ha.

The sad truth is, is that things don’t always work out the way you expect them to. Sometimes things go horribly wrong.

Sometimes you get mind controlled by the ‘big bad’ and hurt the people you love most. Or maybe that stuff only happened to people like you. ‘Heroes.’

——-

You were conscious. That was the cruel agonizing part of it all. It’s that with every swing of your knife, every landed hit, every plea that fell from their lips, you knew what was happening.

You knew what was happening but could do nothing about it. Well...you could, technically, but it hurt. It hurt to fight. The pain was similar, you imagine, to what it feels like getting burned alive and then ran over eighteen times.

You didn’t think you could do it. Your will power wasn’t that strong. You would probably die trying to gain control—

It hurt. It hurt. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t, you—

Natasha. Natasha was saying; “fight it, Y/N, fight it,” and to you and to the pain that fighting the mind control caused, she may as well have been saying, “die, Y/N, die”

And yeah. Okay. For her, you will. For her you must.

Tears were running down your cheeks, it was the one thing the mind control didn’t have control of. It was...weird. Weird feeling such an immense amount of pain, such an immense amount of suffering, and being unable to show it. Unable to scream. You were silent, but your body felt loud, your head felt loud.

For a long minute you couldn’t hear them, you couldn’t even register the things you were seeing, all you knew was pain, everything outside of that was illegitimate.

Then, silence. For a brief, blissful moment before it was gone again. Nat’s arms were around you, and you were shaking, but completely still otherwise—finally, finally, you weren’t hurting them— “You’re okay,” Nat whispered, and how could that concept, in a few moments of agony, become something so foreign. Have you ever been okay before? Have you ever lived without this much hurt?

———-

“Nat,” you croaked, the words shaking almost as roughly as your body. “Natasha, kill me.”

Those three words, said with an immeasurable amount of desperation, were just as much not your own as your body was at this moment. They were said in a moment of pain.

Somehow, Natasha knew that. She knew that. She knows what you look like when you’re experiencing physical pain. It’s been seared into her mind countless times, but that doesn’t prevent her heart from aching as much as it does when you start begging.

“Natasha please, please baby, please. Somebody, please! Before it—”

And then you were screaming, and Natasha hates how it’s even worse than the begging.

Somehow you’ve managed to gain control of your vocals, but your body isn’t yours again, she realizes it when you start struggling against her arms…it’s a terrible thing to realize.

“Stop,” Nat yells, so obviously terrified and raw that half of the Avengers freeze where they’re circling you. “Stop fighting it, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She holds you as tightly as she can, with her eyes screwed shut. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And god, she hates the way it sounds like a goodbye too, but she just knows that even if you could register her voice right now, you aren’t going to listen.

You’re going to keep fighting to protect her and the others, because it’s what you’ve always done.

So Natasha takes a deep breath, in and out, and tries to think about her options. She tries to think about her options with you struggling and trying to reach for your knife, and the Avengers circled around her with nothing but ashen expressions that speak of nightmares to come, and she doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.

There’s no safe way for her to knock you out for a long period of time, not ones that won’t cause long term problems afterwards, but she doesn’t need any because suddenly your body stops struggling, and stops moving, and you’re slumped unconscious in her arms.

It’s a great relief for everyone until Natasha lifts her hand from your pulse, and says, shockingly and terrifyingly devoid of emotion; “I think she’s going into shock.”

——

Everything is a blur to Natasha after that. She recalls yelling, lights, arriving at the hospital, a countdown of; one, two, three, and then she’s sitting in a seat next to your hospital bed wondering when everything went so wrong.

——

All Natasha hears when she closes her eyes is you screaming in agony at the top of her lungs, and all she feels is the phantom touch of your cold ashen skin against her hands.

You’re okay now, Natasha reminds herself. You’re going to be okay, but there’s something deeply traumatizing and everlasting about the moments where you’re sure everything won’t be—the moments you’re almost sure the love of your life won’t be.

Hearing someone you love beg you to kill them, seeing the person you love most in so much agony, it’s...scarring...but Natasha will be strong. She has to be, because being weak hurts too much, but more importantly; you need her to be.

As traumatizing as the experience was for her, she knows that yours was just as bad—if not worse. You were strong for her, so she’ll be for you.

Like protecting her to you seemed like your only option, even while you were hurting so much because of it, it’s Natasha’s only option too.

So she’ll keep it all together, until you’re back to normal and she doesn’t have to anymore.

——-

Natasha startles when you wake up. She physically startles, because the first thing you do is start sobbing, sobbing hard enough to make Natasha concerned that you’ll start hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, up from her seat in a flash to be by your side, “is he still mind controlling you? Are you still hurting?”

You aren’t looking at her, Natasha realizes with a large amount of grief. You won’t look at her, but you’re shaking your head no to her questions, and she supposes that perhaps you are okay—physically.

She wants more than that for you, so she sighs, heavily and sadly— because she can’t protect you from this anymore than she was able to protect you from the mind control—and wraps her arms around your distraught form.

“It’s okay,” Nat mumbles, and then winces and corrects herself because it’s so clearly not. “It will be okay.”

That she is sure of, but you aren’t.

“Natasha,” you force out (Natasha tries not to remember the way you said her name yesterday), “You’re covered in- you’re covered in bruises and cuts...baby, i’m so sorry.”

Your voice cracks on sorry, and Natasha closes her eyes to prevent her own tears from falling. “It wasn’t you,” she whispers fiercely, “i’m not mad at you. Of course i’m not.”

“You should be.”

You pull away from her then. Natasha feels the loss in her heart, she’s sure.

All she wants to do is hold you in her arms and never let go, but with the amount of unjustified shame you’re feeling she doubts you’ll let her.

“Your arm,” you stutter, “did it need stitches?”

Natasha won’t lie to you, so she says nothing—instead she tries to meet your haunted eyes. It’s a useless attempt.

She knows what you’re remembering, and she hates it. “The cut on my neck...it wasn’t that deep. It shouldn’t even scar.”

“I didn’t ask you about the cut on your neck, Natasha.”

Natasha tenses where she’s standing, caught off guard by the loathing in your voice until she realizes that it’s not directed at her, but at yourself.

Your eyes finally, finally, meet Natasha’s. They’re tear brimmed, scared, and unbelievably angry. “I’m going to kill him,” you rasp brokenly, “Natasha, i’m going to kill him.”

——-

Nat says nothing. She just continues to stare back at you.

“He had no right, Natasha, he had no right to do that to me,” your face is crumbling now, anger turning back into devastation in an instant. “Nat, why—why was it me? I—god, i’m so angry, i’m so—i’m so sorry. I’m sorry, i’m sorry. God...what did I do?”

Natasha still says nothing, why isn’t she saying anything? You want to yell at her, you want her to yell at you, you want—you want.

“Is Clint...is he okay?” You ask wobbly.

You remember vividly the moment you stabbed him, and the betrayal on his face, the betrayal on everyone’s faces until they realized you weren’t in control of your own body.

“He’s okay,” Natasha says simply. Then, “the man who did what he did to you...Wanda is handling it. She’s able to block out his mind control.”

“Okay.”

“Can I hold you?”

“What?”

Natasha shifts where she stands, looking down. She’s never looked more uncertain. “You didn’t seem to want me close before...I wasn’t sure…”

Oh.

“Nat,” you whisper, heartbroken, “I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust I’m me.”

Natasha tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans down to kiss your temple. You want nothing more than for her to get away from you. You don’t want to hurt her ever again. You can’t. “Oh baby,” she laughs a sad sort of laugh, “you’ve been handcuffed.”

And that, for whatever reason, starts another wave of unreleased tears, but you're laughing now too...if only at the insanity of your situation.

You feel restricted by the handcuffs, trapped in the way you were during the mind control, but you also feel safe. Safe from doing harm, so you allow her, between breaths, to join you on the hospital bed.

She lets out a relieved breath when you do, both because she’s allowed to hold you, and because you’re laughing...yeah it might me a manic sort of laugh, but it’s something.

Something is better than nothing. It’s a start.

——

“Natasha, I can tie my own fucking shoes.”

Nat looks up at you from where she’s crouched by your feet, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Then why’d you ask me to do it?”

“W-What? No I didn’t.” Mind controlled. You were mind controlled again. Fuck—

“Yeah you did,” Natasha reminds gently, “while you were eating your disgusting jello.”

Oh. Yeah.

You release a shaky breath, laughing quietly all the while, because wow. Wow. You’re losing your mind. “I totally remembered that...they just slipped something into my jello…”

Natasha watches you carefully for a few moments before rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. “Tie your own shoes.”

“Asshole,” you mutter bitterly under your breath. Natasha pretends not to hear you and simply presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” she confesses quietly. Natasha’s been saying as much over and over again since you first awoke.

“Now I feel like the asshole. Just go get the discharge papers.”

Finally, Natasha laughs.

——-

You’re healing still, emotionally, the Avengers and Natasha are very aware of that. They’ve been as gentle as they can possibly be with you since you left the hospital a couple of weeks ago, but now—now it’s time for an intervention.

So naturally, you press the big red emergency meeting button Steve hides in his room and force everyone to meet in the living room.

“I’m not sad anymore,” You announce to them all when Wanda asks why the fuck she was woken up for.

The grumbling immediately quiets.

“Well,” you pause, considering, “I...am. Deep down. I’m tryna work through it but it’s kinda hard now that I'm forgetting a lot of what happened.”

Natasha sits up at that, alarmed. “You’re forgetting?”

You wave your hand dismissively. “My mind is blocking it out. I’m traumatized...but pretty okay otherwise.” The others don’t look convinced, so with an annoyed groan you relent. “I’m thinking about seeing Steve’s therapist. You guys should too.”

A chorus of protest instantly comes forward, not to your surprise...but Wanda...Wanda does surprise you.

“I am, too.”

Then Natasha, “I...was actually considering it myself.”

Well then.

“I’m also considering making my own sitcom,” Wanda continues, resting her head in her hand. “What do you guys think?”

“Stick to therapy, Wanda. Stick to therapy.”

At that, everyone comes forward in agreement.

You’re sure, in that moment, that with these people you’ll be okay.

341 notes · View notes

negasonicimagines · 3 years ago

Text

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls�� imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

#a/b/o #yukisonic #yukisonic x reader #yukio x reader #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #ellie phimister x reader #yukio imagine #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #yukio #negasonic teenage warhead #ellie phimister #x-men imagine #x-men fanfiction #sapphic x reader #sapphic imagine #wlw x reader #wlw imagine

77 notes · View notes

gardenergulfie · 3 years ago

Text

Emptober Day 6: Struggle

Rating: G

Word Count: 2639

Relationships: Geminitay & MythicalSausage

Characters: GeminiTay (Video Blogging RPF), MythicalSausage (Video Blogging RPF)

Tags: Mage Sibs, Post Corruption Mythical Sausage, Magic, Jealousy, When you swear off dark magic but also have a really hard time actually swearing off magic, plus one of your closest friends who killed you to save you is a mage, Sausage is not having a good day, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Relapsing, Dark Magic

Sausage remembered nights spent with these very books, trying to learn to cast. There was this one spell about appearance altering that Kid Sausage had always wanted to cast. He found that spellbook quickly, its dark navy cover a familiar sensation in his hands. Now that he had magic he really should try and cast him again, he’d just have to ask Xornoth-

Wait, no. Sausage didn’t do magic anymore. He’d sworn it off after being freed from Xornoth’s control. No matter how tempting it might be he wasn’t going back on his word. No more dark magic from Xornoth.

With no small amount of regret, he put the tome in the “Donate” pile. Some other more magically gifted kid would have a better use for it. Sausage continued to work, trying to keep his mind away from the thoughts of magic and spell casting. It was really hard, being in a tower filled with magic.

Emptober Day 6: Struggle

AO3 Link

Fic below the cut

It was a good day for Sausage. The feeling of heavy exhaustion that weighed on him constantly ever since he’d been revived was mercifully light today. It had been so light that he had felt good enough to visit Gem and help her with rearranging her tower library. She had a lot of books she didn’t ever read anymore so she was cleaning them out and donating them. She’d been a bit hesitant to ask him for help because of how recently he was revived and her worry of him overexerting himself but he’d convincer that he was fine! She’d been visiting him almost every day for the past week and seen his improvement herself. Besides, moving books around couldn’t be that hard. Gem chucked when he said that out-loud and said he would need to reevaluate that once he saw some of her tomes on the theory of magic.

He was at Gem’s tower now. He had ducked into the building right after arriving, not wanting to spend too much time around the outsides or in his own memory. Gem had greeted him cheerfully from where she was levitating books into two piles.

“Sausage! You made it!” She said, ending her spell and walking over to green him properly. She’d stopped infant of I’m, not sure what the right greeting was for a friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend. He solved that problem by giving her a big hug.

“Its good to see you too, Gem! I’m excited to get to work here! It’s been a while since I left Mythland.” He said excitedly. Gem extracted herself from his bone crushing hug.

“I’m really glad you could make it.” She said genuinely. Sausage felt the same hurt he’d get for most conversations with Gem over these past few days since his resurrection. He’d hurt her and yet here she was, having forgiven him and back to being his friend. It was bittersweet.

“Yeah! I’m excited to get to work here. Was getting restless being cooped up in my home. What should I start with?” Sausage asked as a distraction from his own thoughts. Gem tapped her chin, thinking for a bit.

“Well I need to go a reread my Astrology tones to see which ones I need to keep and which ones I can give away. While I do that, can you sort the tomes in the Illusion section via author? I only want to keep the ones by Mia L Kracklewisp. They’re the best Illusionist and honestly I really don’t use Illusion spells a lot so the other ones are just gathering dust.” Gem explained. Sausage nodded.

“Can do! Just watch, I’ll be done in no time.” He promised. Gem started walking over to a table with a large amount of books on it. She turned her head back to call out.

“If you need anything just ask! I’m just over here, turning my brain into jelly as I try and pick which Astrology books I want to keep out of a decades old collection. Why did I buy so many Astrology tomes?” She muttered to herself as she sat down.

Sausage got to work. It was easy finding the Illusion spell section, just follow the smell of citrus. Most illusionists added secret notes between the margins of their spell books in invisible ink and most of that ink was made with a lemon base. Sausage remembered when he was younger, holding pages up to candle light as he deciphered the hidden messages. He’d read most if not all of Gem’s magic related books in his youth. Sausage remembered nights spent with these very books, trying to learn to cast. There was this one spell about appearance altering that Kid Sausage had always wanted to cast. He found that spellbook quickly, its dark navy cover a familiar sensation in his hands. Now that he had magic he really should try and cast him again, he’d just have to ask Xornoth-

When he finished sorting, he set the books down on Gem’s table with a heavy thump. Gem looked up from the tome on Advanced Cosmology and Lunar Spell-casting she was skimming through and met Sausage’s eyes.

“That was rather fast.” She said, looking at the pile of Illusion spell books on the table. “I must not have that many Illusion tomes.”

“You actually have a pretty good library of them. Most of them are just written by that one author you like so I left them there.” Sausage didn’t mention the fact that he knew exactly what author she liked and that he admired the spellwork they did. Better not to think about magic right now.

“Huh.” Gem said, peeking over Sausage’s shoulder to see the other, much larger pile of books behind him. “Well you’ve finished that task. It’s getting close to midday and I need to finish skimming this book before lunch. You’re free to do whatever you like until then.” She paused before continuing. “I know we’re having goat meat wraps with a chorus fruit pudding. There’s more than enough for two, if you’d like to stay for that.”

“Oh free food? Yeah I’ll stay.” Sausage responded before his brain could fully catch up. He was given free rein of the library while Gem was busy reading and he was trying not to think about magic. This was a bad combination. Gem went back to her reading and Sausage started walking around. He wasn’t looking at the book titles, merely moving around as to distract himself better. It really wasn’t working. Sausage was seeing books labeled “Conjuring Cakes: a Guide to Summoning Edible Food” and “Moss, Lichens and Molds: the Most Fabulous Herbology spells” and “Boommaking: How to Crush Your Enemies with Explosive Magic” (he was pretty sure that last one was a gift from fWhip). He found himself grabbing interesting tomes as he went, ones that would be useful to Mythland or just plain fun for him. Reading them couldn’t hurt, he’d read most of them before. He just needed something to past the time.

Sausage curled up in an armchair with his pick of tomes on the table beside him. He quickly lost himself in the spellwork, reading about complicated equations and runes. It was all great stuff but very familiar. Sausage remembered spending hours with Gem reading these kinds of books while fWhip was out tinkering. The two of them would curl up together to read these thick tomes after school. They both would dream about magic and what they would do when they could cast.

Of course, only one of them got that ability in the end. Gem had been blessed and Sausage had been left behind, no spark of magic in him at all. While Gem trained under the greatest mages in the world, Sausage was stuck rereading the same books, knowing that he’d never be able to cast these spells. It had made him so angry and bitter then and he could feel those emotions rising up again. It wasn’t fair that Gem got lucky while Sausage didn’t. Sausage deserved that magic just as much as Gem did.

Sausage looked back down at the page he wad reading, the paper showing a spell of levitation, the same spell Gem had been using earlier. Sausage remembered how easy casting had been under Xornoth’s control. Even before he was fully taken over, Sausage had been given a book of dark magic that even someone with no inane magic ability could use. There had been a levitation spell in there too.

Sausage wasn’t supposed to cast anymore, he swore off magic, even going so far as to give Gem the Great Staff of Mythland, the one other thing that let Sausage use magic. He was powerless now because he had been corrupted by that power before. He knew he wasn’t supposed to use dark magic anymore but he just felt so angry now. One spell wouldn’t hurt. Just a simple dark magic spell, not even calling on Xornoth, a spell of his own power.

Sausage started mumbling the incantation under his breath. His blood felt warm, uncomfortably so, but the book in his hand began to rise. There was a sound, the sound of someone’s surprised shout, but Sausage hear it fully, too caught up in the magic. He laughed loudly in joy. He’d done it! The powerless Mythlander still could cast magic! He wasn’t even using Xornoth’s power, not really. Even with his blood burning, he still felt too much glee.

“-age! Sausage! SAUSAGE!” He turned around to see Gem, anger at her for interrupting him fading away when he saw her face. She was holding her staff in front of her, magic beginning to swirl around it, and her fave showed only fear. Fear that he’d lost it again, fear that the demon was back, fear that she’d have fight him again.

The force of his guilt hit Sausage in that moment and he dropped the spell. He’d done what he wasn’t supposed to. He’d used magic and scarred the one person who’d forgiven him, the person who killed him to save him. What had he done?

“Gem… I…” Sausage stuttered out, trying to explain himself before stopping. There was nothing he needed to explain, nothing that could excuse his actions. He’d broken his own rule of no magic and it was his own fault.

“I’m going to go outside.” He said, standing up. Gem’s eyes followed him as he walked to the door, only able to shake the fear away and call out after him when he was already outside. Sausage hoped onto the mountain popper and started walking through the snow. He avoided the hatchery, Gem certainly wouldn’t want him anywhere near it after the scene he’d just made. His boots crunched against the icy snow as he just walked. Eventually he grew weary and had to sit down, the exhaustion catching up tp him again. He sat there on a rock for a while, just feeling upset and mad at himself.

“Sausage?” Gem had finally found him, the faun wizard walking up to him. When he turned to face her she stopped, seeing his face. He hadn’t been crying but he was sure that he didn’t look great. The negative effects dark magic have on the body was surely not doing him any favors either. The two of them stood in silence for a bit, neither of them speaking or moving closer or farther away from the other.

“….what was that back there? You were just reading and then suddenly you were casting dark magic. Did the book do something to you? Was Xornoth controlling you again?” Gem asked hesitantly, still nervous to speak. Sausage took a deep breath in. Alright then, he would explain. She deserved an explanation.

“No Gem it won’t either of those things. It was just me.” He started. “I was just caught up in all the magic, all the things you can do that I can’t and I felt angry. I let that anger influence me into make a bad decision. I broke my promise. I said no magic and yet i still cast magic, even worse dark magic.” Sausage hung his head. “Its just so hard when I see you doing it so easily and I know that I can too if I just break my promise and give in.”

Gem listened to his admission, understanding crossing her face. “It must be hard, knowing that you can do it but not letting yourself. How long have you been holding that back? How long have you wanted to cast dark magic after you promised not too?” Gem asked, sitting down next to him. Sausage thought of the weeks since his revival, of the habitual casting of magic and only just managing to stop himself, the constant thoughts that everything would easier if he just let himself do magic, the childhood daydreams of him turning into a mage that he had repressed long ago returning in full force. Honestly it was a miracle that he hadn’t given into his urges before this and also that he’d been able to stop so easily.

“I’ve wanted to do magic forever, my whole life. When I finally could, I used it whenever I could. When I was cured, I promised that I wouldn’t do it anymore. But honestly, I still wanted to do it.” He explained. “There were so many moments where I barely managed to stop myself form using it! It’s been calling to me ever since I tried to give it up. Every day I go without it makes me want it more. And I know it’s bad, I know it has horrible side effects and could put me back under the control of Xornoth but even still I still want to use it!” Sausage’s voice raised as he grew heated about this. Gem listened, always nonjudgmental.

“It isn’t going to be easy to just stop using magic. There’s been stories of mages who start using it and can’t bring themselves to stop, not for long. But there have also been stories of mages who have been ale to give it up, this is something you can do Sausage. This bothers you, not being able to cast magic, and you feel like you can’t fight it. But you can!” Sausage watched as Gem spoke. Normally Gem talking about his struggles with magic and her encouraging him came off as bossy and made him upset, but he wasn’t upset now. It seemed that Gem really wanted to help him. “We can find people to help keep you accountable, stop you from relapsing. We’ll remind you of how well you’re doing and how far you’ve come. We’ll try and figure out other solutions to your problem of wanting to use magic. We don’t have to rely on dark magic and you don’t have to swear off all magic, we can find something that works for you. I couldn’t find a way to help you do magic in the past but I’m stronger now. We can do this. You don’t have to struggle alone.” Gem’s voice was filled with determination and passion. Sausage fully believed that she’d try and help him. He really didn’t deserve this, not after he hurt her so much. Sausage pulled Gem in for another hug, giving her a tight squeeze that he hoped conveyed everything he was feeling that he just couldn’t say. Gem hugged him back.

“This really means a lot, Gem, thank you.” Sausage said honestly as he released Gem from the hug and stood up. He helped the shorter faun to her feet as she spoke.

“Of course! You’re my friend! I was to help you!.” Sausage felt the same bittersweet emotions he kept feeling but this time they leaned more towards sweet. She’s right, he wasn’t alone. Maybe he could fix what he messed up.

“Yeah.” Sausage said. “Now that the emotional talk is over, can we go back and get lunch? You said they were going to have goat meat wraps and I am so hungry for those right now. I might even just grab a wild goat and eat it right now.” Gem laughed at Sausage’s joke and together the two them headed back towards the tower

#mcyt #empires smp #emptober #mythicalsausage #geminitay #mage sibs #i'm taking a bit of a break after this one #so dont expect any more daily uplaods #Gulfie's Writings

29 notes · View notes

nypmphetsbastard · 4 years ago

Text

They Both Die in the End (ch.2)

Chatter filled the makeshift cafeteria as everybody had just now began returning from their long hours of hard labor. The port finally completed meaning everyone had to start preparing for the arrival of more enemy and new comrades. Chatter filled the makeshift cafeteria as everybody had just now began returning from their long hours of hard labor. The port finally completed meaning everyone had to start preparing for the arrival of more enemy and new comrades.

You leaned against the table and munched on some bread as you listened to Sasha talk. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but live in the present while everyone else worried of the future. Maybe this is why you preferred Sasha’s company more than anybody else’s.

The young brunette never liked stressing herself out thinking of the future, said it would give her gray hairs early — she lived in the present and made the best out of any situation that was thrown her way. Her presence felt like a breath of fresh air to those around her, it was no surprise Sasha has so many friends. Hell, even Floch likes Sasha and he doesn’t like anybody.

“And then he tried to take my meat so I-” Sasha was cut off by Armin’s voice called both of your names from afar, he jogged over in a state of stress.

”Have you seen Eren?” He spoke aloud but you knew the question was more directed to you considering the two of you almost never left each other’s side.

“Um no. The last time I saw him, Hange and the others were taking him back to his cell for the night.” Armin sighed.

”Yeah he was, but Commander Hange said he asked to stop for a second to take a piss and when they looked back he was gone.” Armin explained, running his hand through his hair. You sighed and gave your unfinished reread to Sasha who gladly took it.

”I’ll help you look.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Eren to run off sometimes. Frankly, it happened whenever he got stressed and didn’t feel like being smothered anymore. He never went far, never went somewhere completely off the grid, but always somewhere he knew you and only you would find him. Today being an example of that.

Legs burning from all the walking, you finally reached the rocky shore where you saw a distant body swimming in the water. Muttering an annoyed “what the hell?” under your breath, you walked closer to the shore.

Stepping up to the elongated rocks that acted as a deck, you make out your brown haired boyfriend bobbing up and down in the water until he finally noticed you. His eyes lit up as a smile stretched onto his face and he pulled himself out of the water, wasting no time in running towards you with open arms.

Making a playfully disgusted face, you curled into yourself and Eren threw himself onto you and wrapped his arms around you. You groaned and he squeezed you tightly.

”Gross, you’re all wet.” You playfully complained, he didn’t say anything and instead pulled away, holding you by your shoulders. “Why did you run?”

He shrugged, “I didn’t run.” You gave him a pointed look, ”I merely got distracted by a butterfly and casually walked away from their line of sight.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah well it’s still considered running, Eren.” You placed your hands on his chest, “What are you doing here, anyways? It’s already dark.”

“Just wanted to take a little swim.” He grabbed your hand on his chest and lead you towards the edge of the rocks where he let go of your hand and jumped in.

“Since when do you know how to swim?” You giggled, Eren’s head emerged from the water and placed his head between your thighs with his arms folded on the side of your thighs.

“Since now, of course.” Smiling cheekily, Eren placed a kiss on each side of your thigh.

“Haven’t you heard the stories of this place?”

“What stories?”

“Apparently, many years ago there were these two Eldians who had escaped the walls, lovers. They left before night fall meaning it was simple enough to get through Titans as they were beginning to slow down without the sunlight. And when they finally reached the ocean, they thought they made it...but then came an abnormal. Adam, the man he was grabbed by the Titan and told Lilith, the woman to run away into the sea and leave him behind. But it was useless and after devouring the love of her life the abnormal came after her in the water. And as the Titan held her in his hand, mouth stained with the blood of her lover, Lilith vowed that any lovers lucky enough to reach the sea and swim in it would be cursed, as her and her lover were.”

Silence came between you as you finished the tale until Eren finally spoke up

“Oh darling,” he leaned up to your lips, “we’ve always been cursed.” Just as his lips met yours, his arms wrapped around your back and yanked you into the water with him.

Ice cold water prickled your skin sharply as you two fell in, Eren still holding onto you while you flailed around. Letting go of the breath you were holding underwater, you slapped Eren shoulder once you reached the surface.

“You asshole!” He laughed aloud at your anger and threw his head back, “It’s not funny, Eren. I can’t even swim!” You exclaimed.

“Oh I can tell, you’re squeezing me like I’m about to drop you!” Eren laughed, referencing your legs that were tightly wrapped around his waist and your arms that followed.

“Or will I?” He joked, pretending to let go of your legs to which you screeched and held his shoulders tightly, nearly drowning him yourself.

The boy was still in tears at your reactions, mouth wide open giving you the perfect opportunity to splash water into it. He quickly stopped laughed and coughed harshly at the salty taste in his mouth.

”Not so funny when it’s happening to you, huh?” You chuckled, after his coughing feat he joined in on your laugher and began pushing himself around in the water, sending you into another state of panic.

“Ow, stop scratching me.“ Eren complained, your nails digging into his shoulders

”Then stop moving!”

“How else are you supposed to learn how to swim, my love!” He laughed, “Here, I’ll help you.” Ignoring your refusals, Eren pried your legs off of his waist and let them float in the water.

“Okay now start kicking.” He instructed, you gave up and listened for once.

“Ah, good girl,” Eren pried your hand off his shoulders next and held your hands at an arms length away.

You let out a breath, trying to freak out and you kicked your legs like Eren instructed and swim together. Eren continued to praise you as you got the hang of it more and more, a genuine smile splayed across his cheeks as he watched you.

“You see? Told you it’s not that hard.” He encouraged

”Yeah right, the only reason I’m still afloat is because you’re still holding my hands.” You scoffed.

”Oh yeah? What if I was drowning?” You rolled your eyes at his hypothetical

”Pfft, you’re on your own for that one cause I am not saving you.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, “We’ll see about that.” Were his final words before he let go of your hands and went underwater.

You gasped and tried to reach out for him which didn’t work as he floated downward. You kicked and splashed around, trying your best to stay afloat and alive.

”Eren? Eren?! Eren, stop it’s not funny anymore!” You splashed around to try to get his attention but after another couple seconds of silence you began to panic.

“Eren? ....Stop it, the jokes over I get it...” you looked around you, only got find yourself completely and utterly alone. Slowing down your panicked breathing, you sucked in a deep breath and stopped kicking around, letting yourself fall slowly under the water.

The sharp stinging of the salty water hit your eyes when you opened them, trying your best to find the brunette. After a couple double takes, the sight of a slow falling body caught your eye and you immediately swam towards it. A wave of fear ran through you when you finally caught up to his body, his eyes closed and his lips not their usual pink color—he looked kind of...dead.

Wrapping your arms around his waist as he once did early on, you pushed his body higher up to the ocean top, knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry him the whole way yourself without you drowning too. You repeated this process until the moonlight was visible under the water and you finally pulled his up, his body weight falling onto you.

Multiple curses escaped your lips and adrenaline pumped through your veins, not even feeling the burning in your lungs or the tears in your eyes until you finally reached the rocky sand and dropped Eren’s body onto it. You coughed and started chest compressions.

”What the hell, you crazy bastard?! Jean was right, you’re a suicidal fucking maniac!” You cried, switching between pushing your interlocked hands up and down on his chest and blowing your own oxygen into his lungs.

“I swear to Ymir fucking Fritz, I will kill you if you die on me, Eren Yeager!”

Your arms stung, your knees bled, and your head was getting lighter and lighter, not even hearing the distant voice of Armin who called out to you. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, it didn’t matter if you had to rip all the air out of your lungs for him, none of it mattered until he was safe.

You were always that kind of person. The person who’d take all the breath out of their lungs for others. A lover, a friend, an elder, a child, a stranger or a foe, all human life was precious. Violence never solved the problems of today, Marleyans killed Eldians centuries ago until they themselves were slaughtered and the roles were reversed. For even more centuries Eldians tortured Marleyans, constantly reminding them of what their ancestors had done long before them, and now, again the cycle continues.

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace his breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Push up

Push down

Replace her breath with yours

Hers? Her breath. The breath that was slowly fading more and more. Armin’s voice calling out to you in the distance. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. You had to save her. You’ve done it before, why isn’t it working now? Why did they all stop?

Why didn’t it work?

Armin called out to once last time, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Hey...that’s enough. She’s gone.”

You pushed his hand off your shoulder and shook your head, “No...no, she’s not...she-....Sasha...” you whimpered and went limp in Armin’s arms, the blonde carefully holding your head and shoulders against his chest as you both cried together.

Questions were all that filled your thoughts. Why did this happen? Why was Sasha the target? She was innocent, she was kind and beautiful and everybody loves her, why did this happen? Who did this?

Well, who did it was already an answered question. Yes, the simple answer would be the child but, it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t pull the trigger unprovoked and she most certainly wouldn’t be here if the scouts never invaded Marley. And the reason the scouts in invaded Marley was because of....

”Eren...” you pulled away from Armin’s hug and stomped over the back of the airship where Connie had just finished breaking the news.

You maneuvered around him, ignoring everybody else in your way as your hand impulsively raised and lowered, meeting the side of Eren Yeager’s face. A sharp stinging sensation on your palm snapping you out of your adrenaline high, and it all came crashing down.

“You killed her! She was my best friend and now she’s dead! All because of you! She didn’t want to come here, I didn’t want to come here but we did. Because of you!” You shouted.

As much as Levi personally loved throwing Eren around himself, he couldn’t stand you being the one to do it, knowing you’d feel the highest of regret later on. He stepped in, trapping your arms under his as you flailed around trying to get out of his grip.

Anyone who knew the two of you was more than a little shocked at the sight. Hell, even Zeke, who had only heard of you through his brother’s adoring words was shocked. The way Eren spoke of you, even he knew that this outburst was one nobody was expecting.

By that point, you had already given fighting against an Ackerman and fell limp in Levi’s arms. Although awkward, Levi knew he couldn’t leave you in such a vulnerable state at the moment.

The ride back home felt like years. Years of avoiding the back room in fear of seeing Sasha’s cold and lifeless corpse laying there, unmoving. Mikasa let you lay on her lap and cry your eyes out, not caring who was listening to you and never judging you for it either. She had lost her best friend too, but she knew she wasn’t alone in this.

Sasha was everyone’s best friend.

Even Eren’s.

And no matter how cold and distant he seemed, he would always make room in his heart for Sasha. She was...odd, a strong soldier and an amazing asset to the scouts, it didn’t help that she was one of the only people who could make him laugh. It was nice, hearing her and Connie crack jokes that were funny because they weren’t, seeing her make Mikasa and Armin smile, and especially seeing how good of a friend she was to you.

He knew after every argument or every interaction you and him had would immediately be brought to the attention of Sasha and Mikasa. Sometimes, through the cracks of the stone in his cell, he would hear the three of you giggling and whispering about boys.

Through the cracks of the stone in his cell Eren stared. He knew what he had to do in order to protect the people he loved, and to do that he had to distance himself as much as possible from them. Starting with Hange.

They cursed under their breath as they left the room, Eren’s chest clenched but he ignored it and sat on the uncomfortable bed given to him. He didn’t hate Hange. He never could. In fact, he held a high respect for them, but he knew if he needed people to turn away from him and his destructive behavior, he had to start with the one in charge.

Little did he know, you offered Hange some sleepy tea recommended by Levi and slipped into the basement where he was being held. The brown haired boy flinched and became defensive at the sound of keys jingling, getting ready to attack when necessary but relaxed when the warm colored light illuminated your face.

He sighed and looked away, “What are you doing here?” You gulped and unlocked in cell, closing the door behind you and standing over him. Eren didn’t look up from his seat on the bed, choosing to stare at concrete floor instead of your eyes that were filling with tears.

”I’m sorry.”

Eren shook his head, “For what?”

“I hit you. A-and I know I was upset about....but that’s not excuse. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you, no matter what.” Looking up at you, Eren noticed your eyes downcast trying to hide the tears streaming down your face.

He cursed himself mentally and stood up sharply. You gasped at the sudden movement and looked at him, not expecting him to yank you into a hug, his head in your neck. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him and let go of the breath you were holding.

“You were right.” He spoke up

”What?”

”To hit me. You had every right to.” You tried to pull away to look him in the face but couldn’t escape his strong grip.

Ever since you all went to Marley, Eren had been acting different. Even before Sasha’s death, his eyes seemed duller, darker, he didn’t seem to care about the innocent lives he took. He barley even looked you in the eye despite not seeing each other for months.

“What? No, why would you say that? You would never put your hands on me so I shouldn’t have either, where is this coming from?” You questioned

“I saw it. I saw her die.” Eren mumbled, finally letting you pulled away. ”When I got in control of my Titan more, I saw it. I saw the future, I saw Sasha die and I thought I could stop it but...” You didn’t waste any time in sitting Eren down once more and wrapping your arms around him, letting him lean on your chest.

Millions of thoughts were running through your head but all you cared about was making sure he was okay. And considering everything you had all found out in the past 4 years, it wasn’t as surprising to find out he could see into the future.

For those little moments of silence, you ran your hands through his, now long brown hair and let him relax. There wasn’t any time for Eren to “relax” recently sand there wasn’t much you could do to help him considering you never knew what was going through his head, but for those few minutes were all he needed.

All he needed to act selfishly.

Eren suddenly pulled away from you and held your face in his large hands, “Do you trust me?”

“Huh?”

”Do. You. Trust. Me?�� He repeated sharply

”Yes? Yes, of course I do.” You reassured him and maybe even yourself.

”After tonight you can hate me forever, or you can follow me forever, it’s your choice. But I won’t stay here.” He said, you shook your head, trying to figure out what he was trying to say.

”W-What? Eren, don’t tell me...”

Eren took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing his lips into yours as if it’d be the last time he would.

“I’m sorry...”

”Wha-“

With a sharp sting on your neck, your words were paused as Eren punched a thin syringe into your neck. You opened your mouth to speak but the artificial melatonin pumped through your veins quicker than you could think, finally taking a toll and allowing you to fall limos in Eren’s arms. Not catching the single tear that fell from his left eye.

When you awoke, keys and yelling filled your ears before your sight did. As your eyes fluttered open, you found Commander Hange standing over you in both fear and anger, calling your name.

”Cadet! Where did he go?! Where did Eren go? Did you let him out? Did he escape? How did you get in?” All sorts of questions were thrown your way.

But nothing could shake the stake in your heart at the hands of Eren Yeager. Though...this won’t be the last time you’d be feeling that.

#eren jeager x reader #eren smut #eren yeager #snk eren #snk season 4 #zeke yeager #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #hange zoë #hange x reader #attack on titan #aot final season

110 notes · View notes

pocketfulofrogers · 4 years ago

Text

Love Me Anyways

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: What is there to say? You’re a dark and twisty assassin and Steve Rogers is definitely... not that. When you get an opportunity to run, will you take it?

Notes: Tiny bit of smut and angst with a happy ending. If you feel like you’ve seen/read this before, you may have. I’m reorganizing and this was previously part 1 of Haunted Woman, Broken Lover. When I originally wrote this, it was meant to be a one off, but sad endings don’t always feel right. I then struggled to turn it into a series, so here is HWBL reimagined with a different ending as a one shot. The series will still be a thing, but now I actually feel good about it!

They call you a ghost. It isn’t for the way you seem to slip through walls or the way you look at death as a reflection. It’s the hollowness of your eyes that earns you the nickname. Hazed over orbs coated in grey.

Clint asks you if they’ve always been that color, you tell him you can’t remember anymore.

Fury lets you run your own thing after you agree to attach yourself to the badge. He’d rather not know how exactly you get the job done, so long as you’re on their side.

You’re solo most of the time, it’s better that way.

They learn quickly how deadly you are, leaving your enemies questioning the validity of your existence and holding the same vacant stare as you. It wasn’t just physical injuries you specialized in.

The first time you met Steve Rogers was an accident. You had a rogue Armenian scientist tied up in his basement. He had been about to run when you appeared at his kitchen table, and, for a moment, you thought a heart attack might get him before you could.

You were sat before him, leaned forward with your tools on a bench beside you. A small blade aching to break skin sat hot between your fingers, but so far, your words had been enough. Steve opened the door, barreled down the steps, and stopped in his tracks. You locked eyes with him and, in a flash, you saw something hauntingly familiar within the blue.

That’s when something inside you shifted.

He took one look at the scene before him and shut it down immediately. You slipped away when he called it in and left no trace of your existence except for a long thin line gushing red from the scientist’s throat.

Steve find’s the plans for a chemical attack on his desk that night and where to find each accomplice wrapped in a pretty bow of nylon. Alive, your note assures him.

“She’s like a cat. Brings home dead things to show her affection.” Clint says one day. You promptly shove an elbow in his gut.

He learns how to spot your work past blubbering grown men and catatonic stares. Natasha tells him you hold your liquor well, Clint comments on your gambling abilities. He asks if your eyes are naturally that color, they tell him you don’t like to answer that question.

Later he asks Fury how they found you. He’s not sure how you became what you are today, but he knows this world has not treated you well, yet here you are, working to protect it regardless of what had been done to you. That’s the only reason he didn’t order Clint to take you out.

“So, she’s good?” Steve asks.

Fury pauses for a moment. “For our sake, I hope so.”

The next time you see Steve Rogers, you’re slinking through the Triskelion halls trying to stick your nose somewhere it probably doesn’t belong. He bumps into you, grabs your arm and your side to steady you. You know he can feel the scars beneath the thin material of your shirt and jump from his touch.

He shakes it off. “Tell me,” He starts. “Do you have an actual name or are you really just a ghost.”

You think for a moment. “Y/N.” He raises a brow, both your voice and an answer surprising him. “What, were you expecting a cryptic answer on the relativity of life and death or something?”

He chuckles. “Guess not.”

A moment later, he gets distracted, turns a way for a split second and then you’re gone.

“Yeah, she does that.” An agent passing by comments.

You continue on your path, leave him the gift of a solved problem on his desk sometimes. He sets up cameras and lasers, trying to catch you just once. It takes him a few months to realize the janitor drops the files and notes for him. You and Natasha laugh at his expense.

He starts to leave files in various places he knows only you could find. The worst of the worst. Men and women he thinks you’d be happy to cross off. You can’t tell if he leaves them for you, or because they’re just terrible people. Either way, the change in narrative surprises you, but you never bring it up. You’re the last person that would ever judge someone.

Natasha taunts him over it.

“It’s a modern-day love story with an assassin twist.”

“Why not that one?” “She doesn’t like Oklahoma.” “How do you know that?”

“She sent booze as thanks for your last tip. Are your cheeks seriously red right now, Rogers?”

Eventually, you concede and stop leaving him only the locations of gift-wrapped bodies with detailed lists of committed crimes. Complete with proof, of course, you weren’t lazy. You start to send him alive leads, people that can be questioned. Sometimes they’re unharmed, usually they’re mostly coherent. He’s surprised by the change in narrative, but he never brings it up. Sometimes people change, but that was none of his business.

Natasha is sure to point it out, though, consistently.

“You see him more than anyone else.” “That’s not true!” “…” “He’s here more than you, so it’s only by default.”

“Wait, you left that guy alive?” “Steve needs to question him.” “What about that one guy I needed answers from?” “You didn’t say please.”

“I’ve known you longer.” “He leaves me sex traffickers.”

When a body comes up dead that shouldn’t have, your signatures blatantly displayed, they send him to bring you in. He doesn’t believe for a second you could kill a kid, but he’s the only one who can get close enough. Fury’s only half sure you won’t kill him.

You battle with the idea of running, knowing they’ll never find you if you don’t want them to. You saw the evidence; you knew you were screwed. Fury told you from the very beginning that if he ever sensed you had turned, he’d take you out. No warning, no questions. Still, you wait patiently in your living room.

The window by the fire escape opens and Steve slides through, tip toes his way in and around the corner only to find you sitting there, an amused smirk tugging your lips.

“What calf exercises do you do? They look fantastic.”

He rolls his eyes and catches site of the artwork around him, the soft whites and greys of your walls and furniture giving spotlight to their colors. He never even considered you could have a home. You follow his gaze and shrug. Assassins can have taste too.

“The diplomat’s son, did you kill him?” He asks. You watch him silently. “Fury thinks you did.”

You walk slowly towards him, watch him curiously and tilt your head. “And if I did?” You prompt.

“I have orders to bring you in.”

You’re a breath away now, gliding your fingers along the Kevlar of his arm and trailing your way to his jaw. You trace his collar with a fingertip, watch as the pulse of his jugular quickens. You look up at him and he swallows thickly.

“And if I don’t want to?” You graze tentative fingers along the edge of his jawline. “Tell me, Captain, would you kill me?”

He hopes the eagerness in your voice is misplaced, the envy misinterpreted. Or perhaps the girl who surrounds herself with death does it with the idea that it may one day take her.

You don’t give him the opportunity to dive into that rabbit hole.

When you place your lips on his, soft and remnant of something sweet, he can only taste the brilliance of life. He wraps himself around you, slips in his tongue when you’re startled by his sudden switch. You thought you’d leave him shaken enough to slip away, disappear with the rising sun.

But now? Now you’re just as hungry for him.

He carries you, lays you across your bed. He runs the pad of his thumb along every scar left behind by a blade, places a kiss on each one from a bullet. You knot you fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh, scream his name when he brings you higher than you’ve ever been before.

When he slides into you and stretches you deliciously so, you allow yourself to feel just this once. He catches the shift in your eyes, convinces himself his mind is playing tricks on him when the grey haze appears to fade.

He moves slow before he finds his pace. You dig fingernails into his back and trail them down hard enough to make him hiss. He nips you from shoulder to jaw, hips rocking into you, and you swear nothing has ever felt this good.

You lay there in silence, sweat coated limbs still entangled. He sighs heavily and you just know he’s about to ruin the moment.

“Stay.” You whisper. He looks down at you wrapped around him. “I’ll go with you in the morning, just stay tonight.”

He tightens his grip on your bicep and nods. “Ok.”

You’re still awake when dawn breaks, you had gotten lost in the simple rhythm of his heartbeat. A dream that one day life could be even just an imitation of normal. The thought makes you sad more than anything else.

You slip from his arms, grab a bag, and pack the essentials. Watching him sleep, he seems so peaceful, so good. You ache to wake him and stick around long enough to fix this mess. He deserves that.

Could you do it? Forget your past and pretend to be anything other than the hollow shell those before carved you into?

Ah, but this was your MO. Slip away in the dark when things took a turn either way. ‘Flight risk’ has always been written on the back of your eyelids. You weren’t quite sure why you felt you owed Steve more, but you did.

He awakes to a bright sun and a cold spot beside him. There’s a torn piece of paper where your head should’ve been. He brushes his thumb over his name and opens it. It states your innocence and exactly who he should be looking for, where to find them. At the bottom is a separate line.

‘Careful, Captain, or I just might be your future.’

Three years later.

You grab the tiny umbrella in your drink to twirl the ice around again. Undoubtedly a nervous habit you picked up in response to the very crowded beach bar you’re currently sitting at.

It was an alert you received in the middle of the night notifying you of your cleared name a year ago. You can’t be sure how whoever it was reached you, but the screenname ‘Tiny Dancer’ gave you a few ideas.

In that moment, reading those last two words you’re free, something changed. Perhaps it was months of being on the run from people who you allowed to know you well enough to track you that left you felling so drained.

Of course, you thought about the beautiful man you left behind first, knowing that there was no one in this world who would fight harder for your freedom. You wanted to go find him, you really did, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt different this time. Like maybe this was your chance to start over. A chance to live a life that had been stolen from you so long ago.

The bartender, a lovely middle aged man who strictly wore floral button ups, watches you down the rest of your drink and is quick with the refill. You try to thank him, but he waves you off.

“Anything for my favorite customer.”

You push your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Are we not friends by now?”

He barks out a laugh and leans forward against the bar in front of you. “Friends get invited to drink with me, which you do almost everyday. Family gets invited to the cookout. Which is Sunday, by the way. Show up early and bring an appetite.” He shoots you a playful wink before pushing off to help another customer.

You lean your head back slightly to feel the warmth of the sun and tune into the sound of the crashing waves. It’s the lightest you think you may have ever felt with the sand sticking to your bare legs and salt water in your hair.

Nothing could interrupt this perfectly blissful moment.

Well, almost nothing.

“Sand looks good on you.” A deep voice says beside you and you smile, face still tilted towards the sun.

“Took you longer than I thought.” You turn to Steve still smiling. “How long can you stay?”

He moves his sunglasses from his eyes to the top of his head and looks around for a moment taking in the view. When he turns back to you, the smile that breaks across his face almost stops your heart.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #mcu #marvel #avengers

69 notes · View notes

sunmoonandeddie · 5 years ago

Text

marriage story

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5,641

summary: Fake marrying Bucky was only supposed to be a means to an end.

prompt: college au, fake marriage au, and enemies to lovers

warnings: swearing, talk of past sexual abuse

a/n: This was written for @broadwayandnetflix for @bucky-smiles‘s Secret Santa! SURPRISE!!!! I’m so sorry I’m a day late, I just wanted to make sure it was as good as I could make it!! I really hope you enjoy!!!

You weren’t sure how you ended up staring at divorce papers.

Hell, you’d just graduated college three weeks ago and had miraculously landed your first job that was conducive to your career.

And now, you were a divorcée at the age of twenty-one.

Granted, your marriage had lasted much longer than a lot of those that happened when the two people were teenagers.

It had also been fake, but that’s beside the point.

You read over the divorce papers for the eightieth time since they’d arrived. Both of you took your individual things, no need for lawyers…

It had all seemed so simple when it first began. A means to an end.

You were eighteen and stupid. Desperate. You had no idea what the consequences would be.

You had no idea that you’d actually fall in love with your husband.

He’d needed to live off campus since he couldn’t afford the on campus housing. At a minimum of seven thousand dollars a school year, it was ridiculous. You couldn’t really afford it either, but the school had a rule that you couldn’t live off campus until your junior year, and the two of you were still second semester freshmen.

Then there was the issue with your FAFSA. You weren’t exactly on good terms with your parents. And by not on good terms, you meant that you didn’t speak to them. At all. Getting their tax information wasn’t going to happen, and it wasn’t like they were helping you pay for college.

But FAFSA wouldn’t let you fill it out as an independent student until you were twenty-one. Apparently, being cut off from your parents wasn’t enough of a ‘special circumstance’ to allow it.

But, there was one little thing that could fix all that.

Matrimony.

If you were married, you’d have to file independently. No questions asked about parents.

And the university would allow you to live off campus, too.

It was a perfect solution. A quick little trip to the courthouse.

Living together had seemed logical. A little two bedroom apartment was much cheaper than seven thousand dollars for nine months in a dorm room you had to share.

Plus, you had to keep up the illusion to the school and the government that you were married.

Outside of living together though, there wasn’t much needed. Each of you wore a fake ring when you went to your meetings with your advisor and your classes. It kept the rabid frat boys away from you, at least.

And then there were the scholarships. Turns out, there are scholarships specifically for married college kids, and your advisor thought you were just perfect for it because she’d never met such a wonderful couple.

It was all perfect. Until it wasn’t.

First off, you and Bucky didn’t even really like each other when all of this started. You only knew each other because you were best friends with Natasha, who was his best friend’s girlfriend. It had actually been the two of them that had gotten the idea in the first place.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we gathered you here today,” Steve said, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Steve, this is my room.”

This was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday night. You’d worked a double that day, from eight in the morning to ten that night.

The perks of working at a bar that did Mimosa Mornings on the weekends. The worst part was that you weren’t even allowed to take a shot or two to help you get through it since you were eighteen.

Stupid fucking law. If you could work in a bar, you should be able to drink to deal with the customers. Because fuck, they’re horrible.

But you made more than you’d be making at Buffalo Wild Wings, that’s for sure.

“Can we just get whatever this is over with?” Bucky asked from across the room. He definitely wasn’t keen to be stuck in a room with you for any longer than necessary. “I have work in the morning.”

“Same here,” you added, narrowing your eyes at the two who sat in front of you.

Natasha was your best friend and your roommate, but fuck were you ready to put out a ‘New Friends Wanted’ sign. You could take applications.

Requirement number one: Must not be dating the best friend of the most annoying prick in the world AKA Bucky Barnes.

Requirement number two: Must not be waiting to ambush you in your own dorm room with said prick.

“So, both of you are having issues with the university,” Nat said as she took out a bunch of papers. “The dorms are crazy expensive and you’re not allowed to live off campus. Also, FAFSA is ridiculous.”

“And we have a solution,” Steve said, a grin on his face. He was such a giver. He loved his friends more than anything in the world and would literally give anything for them. Seriously. You’d once watched him actually give the shirt off his back to Bucky when the latter had gotten drunk at a party and puked all over his.

He’d also gotten it on your shoes, and Bucky had just burped and said, “They look better now.”

The disgusting asshole.

“Well, spit it out,” you said, rubbing your temples. You were still in your uniform, a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top. Your hair smelled like cigarette smoke and someone’s beer that they spilled on you. “I’d like to go to sleep before sunrise, please.”

“You two could get married.”

Both you and Bucky stared at them like they’d grown two heads.

“I’m sorry… What the fuck did you just say?” You asked, standing up.

Natasha rushed to continue, still grinning. “If you two get married, the university will let you live off campus, and FAFSA will let you file as independent!”

“And it’s cheap! A marriage license only costs like… fifty bucks? Something like that!” Steve said.

Well… It wasn’t… a horrible idea, even if you and Bucky might end up killing each other before then.

“I don’t know...,” you said, the whole idea making you nervous. Marriage? Come on.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I really don’t want to be married to her. We’d kill each other before we hit our six month anniversary,” he mocked, shooting a glare your way.

“It would only be until you graduate!” Natasha said. “And then, you two get divorced and it becomes a funny story to tell at parties!”

You shared a look across the room with the brunette. It would solve your problems…

“Fine.”

Turns out, getting married was a lot easier than you thought it would be. All four of you went to the courthouse that next Tuesday when all of you had a break in between classes.

You wore a sweatshirt and leggings, your ratty sneakers that were covered in mud along the bottom. Bucky wore jeans and a university hoodie.

Not exactly usual wedding attire.

Natasha, ever the optimist ever since she met Steve, had shoved a daisy she’d picked in your hair.

And an hour later, you’d walked out as Mrs. Barnes.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood up from the couch and walked around the little place you’d called home since you were eighteen.

It had been quiet the first few months. You signed a lease on an apartment a few blocks from campus and had moved in right at the end of the school year, but he went home with Steve to Brooklyn, New York.

You were alone the entire summer except for the few weekends that Natasha managed to come visit. The only time you and Bucky spoke was when he texted you to let you know when he was moving in.

And that’s when the fighting had started.

As you stared at a picture of the two of you on the wall, you couldn’t help but laugh. In the photo, you two were sitting on the couch, holding a cake that Natasha and Steve had gotten you as a joke. HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY! was written across it in bright blue icing.

It was a far cry from when you two had first moved in. Everything was an issue. You didn’t do this, he did that, the both of you wanted to watch different movies and he had brought the television but you’d brought the DVD player. Everything. Hell, you’d sleep on the bean bag in Natasha’s dorm some nights because even being in the same apartment as him was too much.

Eventually, there was compromise. An understanding grew between you and with that, a truce. You couldn’t keep living like you were.

You were pretty sure the war had finally, silently ended one late night in October. It was the weekend before Halloween, and you’d had the worst shift of your life.

Your keys clanged as you unlocked the front door, trying to open it as quietly as possible. Even from where you stood, you could see the clock above the stove that read 1:42 AM. You were supposed to be off at ten, but that clearly hadn’t happened. One of the other girls working had gotten sick and you were forced to cover the few hours she was supposed to work alone until close.

And to add onto that, you made less the entire weekend than you had last Friday night. You’d been hit on, groped, yelled at. Fuck. You just wanted to collapse in your bed.

“You’re home late.”

“Fuck!” You jumped in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. God. Your anxiety had just spiked and the exhaustion you’d been feeling was replaced with your fight or flight instinct.

Bucky was standing in the hallway entrance, brows furrowed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He had on those gray sweats that he looked so good in…

No! Down girl! Bad!

It didn’t matter that he was hot. He was a total dick.

Though, lately he’d be rather kind. Nice. There’d been less fights in the past few weeks.

You cleared your throat, looking away from him. “Yeah, Wanda got sick, so I had to close.”

“There’s dinner in the microwave,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Oh. Thank you.”

He nodded, before disappearing down the hall. It surprised you when you heard the bath start, but whatever. Whether or not he took baths was none of your business.

You were surprised to find a huge bowl of vegetable soup in the microwave. Huh. You’d just been talking to Natasha about how much you missed your mom’s homemade version.

Whatever. It wasn’t like you’d ever be having that again.

You let your head rest on the counter as you waited for the soup to heat up. Fuck. Your entire body ached.

“Hey, do you want epsom salt?” Bucky called out from the bathroom.

“Uh, what?” You said as you raised your head. Even just moving that little made your head pound.

He poked his head out of the doorway, his long hair pulled back in a bun. “For your bath? Do you want epsom salt?”

“My bath? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked as the microwave beeped.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe. “The bath that I’m currently running you. Do. You. Want. Epsom. Salts?”

There was a long pause as the two of you stared at each other. “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice coming out a lot smaller than you expected. “That would be nice.”

Once he’d disappeared back into the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and texted Nat.

To: Tasha

Why is Barnes acting weird?

From: Tasha

Which one of you?

Get it?

Cause you’re married?

To: Tasha

Yeah

I got it.

But he’s being fucking weird.

From: Tasha

How so?

To: Tasha

He made me dinner? At least, he poured vegetable soup from a can into a bowl and left it in the microwave.

And he’s running me a bath???

V V strange.

If I don’t text you tomorrow

It’s probably because he killed me

From: Tasha

Oh that

To: Tasha

What do you mean

“Oh that”????

NATASHA

ANSWER YOUR PHONE

From: Tasha

Sorry, was talking to Steve

He mentioned you’d been working a lot and how tired you were so I told him he should do something nice.

And I may have told him that you missed your mom’s vegetable soup.

So that probably explains that.

“Hey, it’s ready,” Bucky said as he came into the kitchen. “I’ve got some towels in the dryer going, so they’ll be all warm when you’re ready to get out.” He seemed so… laissez-faire about it. Like you two didn’t fight on a daily basis usually. He watched as you took a bite of the soup, his blue eyes zeroed in on you. “Do you like it?” He asked. “I tried following my ma’s recipe. Don’t know how well it went.”

You couldn’t help but moan around the spoon as the warm soup went down. Even reheated, it was amazing. “This is your mom’s recipe? It’s amazing.”

His cheeks flushed as he tried to hide a grin. “Thanks. I’ve missed her cooking.”

It was silent as you finished up the soup, the only sound being the spoon clanging against the bowl. It wasn’t until you set your dishes in the sink to wash the next day that he spoke again.

“Oh, I got you this,” he said as he pulled out a box. “I saw my advisor and he knows that we’re married and he mentioned that we still don’t have rings, so I just went and grabbed a ring from a thrift store.”

It was then that you noticed the simple silver band on his left ring finger, glinting in the low light.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said as you took the box. But your breath was stolen from your lungs as you opened it, revealing a gorgeous diamond engagement ring with a matching diamond wedding band. “It’s… It’s beautiful… Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, you go ahead and get in the bath. I’ll bring you the towels when they’re done.”

As you sat in the bath, you couldn’t help but stare at the rings that now resided on your left hand. They glinted in the low light of the candles that had been placed in various places around the bathroom, most likely lit with Bucky’s lighter from the local smoke shop.

They were absolutely stunning.

Maybe… just maybe… this marriage wouldn’t be as bad as you first thought it would be.

You glanced over at the table as your phone buzzed, running to it. Maybe it’s Bucky…

But your hope was dashed as you realized it was Natasha calling you.

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying until a drop of water fell on the screen. Wiping your eyes, you brought it up to your ear. “Hey, Tasha! What’s up?” You couldn’t help but wince. You sounded like a fucking real estate agent. Perfect and peppy and… not you.

“Hey, I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing,” she whispered, as though she was trying to keep someone else from hearing. “Bucky got the divorce papers today and I figured that meant you did, too.”

Ah, another thing. He’d been staying at Steve and Natasha’s place since all of you had graduated, and the time had come for the divorce. He’d gotten all of his things out within two days, except for the hoodie you were currently cocooned in and your wedding rings.

“I know how much you love this place,” he’d said with a wry smile. “So you can have it in the divorce settlement.”

It had been a joke. The divorce settlement. Like you two had actually been in love and things just hadn’t worked out.

“You aren’t gonna change the Netflix password on me, right?” You asked as you stood in the doorway of Bucky’s room, arms crossed over your chest. “Because I’m still paying for half of it.”

Buck grinned at you as he taped the last box shut. “I don’t know… Might change it up on you. Have it all to myself. Then my suggested movies and shows won’t be so fucked up,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, glaring at him. But there was no heat behind it. “We have separate profiles on there, you dumbass. So if Gossip Girl is on your suggested, that’s your fault.”

The laugh that erupted from his mouth made him throw his head back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Seeing Bucky Barnes laugh was one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It was better than the Great Pyramids of Giza, the Taj Mahal, and the Great Wall of China all rolled into one.

“We’re still gonna have Thursday night movies, right?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked.

In the three years since you’d gotten married, Thursday night had become your sort of fake Date Night. You two would order takeout and watch movies until the both of you passed out of the couch. You both changed your availability at your jobs to let them know that you couldn’t work Thursdays. Not even Natasha and Steve were allowed to intrude. It was just your special night to hang out.

“I’ll bring the food. Do you want Thai or Mexican?” He asked, his features a little softer.

“I’ll text you what I want,” you said. Biting your lip, you toyed with the rings on your left hand. “I guess I should give you these back, huh?” You started to slip them off, but he stopped you.

“They’re yours,” he said, his hand closing over yours. His blue eyes shimmered in the light as you swallowed. “Keep them… as a reminder of your former husband.” The corner of his mouth twitched, but you couldn’t tell if he was going to smile or frown.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said, suddenly surging forward to hug him. “Even though you’re super annoying.”

Bucky laughed as he wrapped his arms around you just as tight. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

“How’s he doing?” You asked as you moved to what had formerly been Bucky’s room. It was now completely bare, except for a single gum wrapper on the floor. You sank down against the wall as you stared at it. Extra wintermint gum. Because he absolutely hated spearmint.

“About as well as you, I imagine,” she said slowly, choosing her words ever so carefully. “I don’t know. He went out for a walk a few minutes ago. But he locked himself in the guest room for hours after getting the papers.”

You let your head fall back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to stop another onslaught of tears. “This is what we wanted,” you said, your voice cracking.

A pause. You could feel the tension even through the phone, a can of worms Natasha was about to open. “Is it? Is this what you wanted?”

“This was always the plan!” You retorted, the tears coming in a wave now. “We’d stay married until after we graduated and then we’d divorce. No drama, no court, no lawyers. Just a means to an end.”

You could hear her whispering to someone that you knew was Steve on the other end for a few seconds, the sound muffled. She’d probably covered the speaker. “Do you want me to come over?” She finally asked.

“No,” you said with a sigh, rubbing the hell of your palm against your eyes. “I just wanna… curl up in bed and watch cheesy movies and never come out.”

You didn’t understand. Why did this hurt so bad? He was just a friend. You two had never even kissed, for crying out loud. This wasn’t some fanfiction where you two fell into bed one drunken night and then woke up with feelings. This wasn’t an ‘Oh no, there’s only one bed’ type of deal with 100K+ words on AO3. You two were just friends. Really. There was no happy ending for the two of you waiting.

“Are you still gonna go to the Barnes’s Fourth of July party?” Natasha asked, her voice softer.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on your knee caps. “There’s no point. We’re not married anymore.”

“Sweetheart,” she chided. “You know he’d want you there. So would his family. You’re still a Barnes, even if you change your last name back.”

“I don’t know,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip. “I like the last name Barnes better. It’s not like I have any connection to my old last name. Maybe…” You swallowed. “Maybe I should keep it. It costs money to change it back, after all. It’s on my license now.”

Ah, yes. Because your license had expired while you were married and you’d had to get a new one.

“You’re a Barnes now and forever, hon,” she teased. You could hear her smile through the phone. “And you know Winifred would be pissed as hell if you didn’t go. You’re her daughter now just as much as Bucky is her son.”

God, the tears came on like a tsunami when you remembered the Barneses. George, Winifred, Becca, all of them. Especially Winifred. Sweet, sweet Winnie that had become your mom in the years since you’d met her.

“Bucky, I don’t know about this,” you said as you walked up the steps to his place. Or, rather, his parents’ place. “I should just go home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed as he searched for the right key. “I’m not letting you drive the way back just to spend Christmas alone.”

Truthfully, it was stupid to even suggest. Your apartment that you shared with him now was over eight hours away, and it was two days before Christmas Eve.

God, how the hell did you end up here? You’d been planning on spending it alone, just like you had Thanksgiving.

But when Bucky had come back from the break and realized that you hadn’t gone anywhere, it’d prompted him to ask why, which had then resulted in him insisting on you accompanying him to New York City for Christmas with his family.

“What if they don’t like me?” You asked, barely audible. In truth, you were terrified. This was your first holiday season that you were away from your parents. Thanksgiving had been strange, and you had certain it wasn’t going to get any better up until a few weeks ago.

Bucky stopped suddenly, looking at you with big blue eyes. “Sweetheart, they’re going to adore you,” he said, more sincere than he’d been since the two of you had gotten married. “How could they not?”

“You didn’t!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t like me either. And then we got to know each other.”

He had a point.

You grumbled, staring down at your boots. They were still covered in snow.

“And besides, Ma hasn’t shut up about meeting you ever since she found out about you,” he muttered as he finally found the right key. “Dad said she’s been obsessively cleaning the house since she found out you were coming.”

As soon as the opened the door, you were hit with a wall of sound. A woman with the same shade of hair as Bucky rushed forward, trapping the six foot man in a hug. “YOU’RE HOME!”

“Winnie, come on, don’t suffocate the boy.” A man with Bucky’s eyes appeared, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was trying to appear nonchalant, but the second he was free of his mother’s grasp, he was dragging him into another hug. “I’ve missed you, son.”

“And you must be his wife!” Winifred Barnes said, suddenly turning on you.

“Ma, she has a name.”

“I know that!”

“Winnie–”

You were pulled into a hug, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with feelings. Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hugged your own mother in so long, or maybe it was just because Winifred was that lovely of a person. Either way, you were tearing up as she hugged you tightly. You gave her your name as she pulled back, looking over your face.

“Oh, you’re even prettier than Jamie said!”

Your cheeks flushed as Bucky grumbled out a quiet “Ma…”

It was then that you were swept into the apartment, finding it bustling with people. You were then introduced to the rest of his family: his younger sister, Becca, who was going to be a senior in high school and was SO grateful to have a new sister, his aunts, his uncles, his parents. The entire apartment was bursting with people even days before the actual holiday.

It wasn’t until after dinner (which was absolutely delicious) that you were able to capture a quiet moment in the kitchen, helping Winifred wash dishes.

“Thank you for having me over,” you said, to break the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, surprisingly, you just felt like you needed to vocalize your thanks for what was probably the third time. “It means a lot.”

“Any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of ours,” she said as she rinsed off a plate. “And we’re so grateful for what you’re doing. He mentioned that it helps you, too, but… Our family can’t afford to pay for his housing. We can barely make his tuition.” She looked at you with crystal clear eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. “We’re so happy to have you.” She then paused, glancing over at the side of the sink, where you’d set your wedding rings just to make sure they didn’t slip off in the water. “You know, I was so happy when he asked for my ring. He’s always dreamed of giving it to a girl.”

“What?” You asked, looking at her in shock.

Winifred paused, her brows furrowed in a way that really reminded you of your husband. “Did he not tell you? The engagement ring is mine. But he saved up over the summer to buy a matching band for it.”

Your heart raced in your chest as you stared at the rings. Bucky had gotten his ma’s ring for you? But… why? You two were barely friends at this point.

“I would’ve been spending Christmas alone if it wasn’t for him inviting me,” you said, breaking her stare to look down at your soapy hands. “He found out I spent Thanksgiving at home and almost shit a brick.” You rushed to cover your mouth, to apologize, but she just snorted.

An easy smile tugged at her lips. “Holidays are a big thing for our family, and I guess we passed that down to Jamie. Everyone comes to town for about a week and we spend it drinking and shooting the shit, baking. We can’t afford much, so our gifts are usually just spending time together,” she said.

“It sounds nice,” you whispered as you scrubbed absentmindedly at a pan. “My family… even when I still talked to them, we were never big on holidays.” Winifred had gone quiet beside you. “It was always just us. We’d eat dinner together and sometimes I’d get a present, but mostly it was just spent like any other day.”

She took a deep breath, setting a plate on the drying rack. “What… happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I… confronted my parents about the sexual abuse I went through as a kid,” you said slowly, swallowing around the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat. “My cousin… He, uh… He’s only a year and a half older than me. From the time I was… four or five, I think, to about twelve, he would… you know.” The kitchen felt deadly silent, and you were so glad that the rest of the Barnses, including Bucky, were in the living room. Even though he knew the basics of what had happened, you never told him details. “And my parents would punish me for it when he got caught. They blamed me. They’d ground me or spank me or… whatever.” You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “They didn’t really take it well. It doesn’t matter though. I’m fine.”

You were shocked when you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug. Winifred’s arms formed a cocoon around you and you could feel her tears on your face. She was only an inch or two taller than you. “That was not your fault,” she gasped out, holding you to her. “That was not your fault.”

Before you realized what was happening, you were clutching onto her as hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You didn’t know how long she’d held you before she leaned back, wiping away your tears. Or at least, trying to before they were replaced with more. “You are not what he did to you, you hear me?” She asked, wiping at her own face. “You are always welcome here. We’re your family now.”

“What’s going on here?”

The both of you turned to see Bucky in the doorway, his sea blue eyes wide. He was holding a few extra plates that had been left behind.

“Nothing,” she said with a watery grin. “Just… talking.”

“Here,” he said as he walked over and put the dishes inside the sink filled with soapy water. “I’ll finish up with my wifey here, and you go clean up before dad freaks out because you’re crying.”

She barked out a laugh, nodding. “Fine. Fine. You know how he gets if I’m upset,” she said, kissing your forehead before leaving.

“So… You actually okay?” Bucky asked as he took over rinsing the dishes you washed.

The smile that found its way onto your lips was real, surprisingly, as you said, “Everything’s great, Jamie.”

And even though he let out a groan, he was smiling, too.

It was after that trip that you’d started calling him Jamie. It just… felt better rolling off your tongue than Bucky ever did. It was also when holidays in Brooklyn became a permanent thing. Anytime Bucky went home, so did you.

They were your family.

But now… Now what? Did you lose them like you lost your parents?

Granted, losing your parents wasn’t exactly the worst thing.

“Sweetheart? You there?” Natasha asked, bringing you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head to clear out the cloudiness of your memories. “Yeah, I’m–” You broke off as you heard a knock at the door, a frown tugging at your lips. “Hold on, Tasha, I’ll call you back…” You hung onto your phone as you walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole.

Bucky?... What the fuck was he doing here?

You opened the door wide, shocked to find him crying. His eyes were puffy and red, his nose running. “Jamie? What’s wrong?” You reached forward to touch his shoulder, shoving your phone in your back pocket.

“Don’t sign those papers.”

“Wait… What?” Now you were even more confused. Your brows furrowed as you pushed his hair back from his face. God, he needed a haircut. Maybe you could… No. Not the focus right now.

He stepped toward, half inside the apartment that had been his, too, just two weeks before. His large, calloused hand caressed your face. “I don’t want to not be your husband,” he said, his voice cracking.

Your heart thundered inside your chest and you were half sure this was some kind of trick of your mind to soothe its aching. “What do you mean?”

“I want to make this work,” he said as he cupped your face in his hands. “I… I want to actually have Thursday night Date Nights and take you out and when we go home for the holidays, I want to kiss you under the mistletoe my ma always hangs up, and I want you to wear my ma’s ring. I want to be your husband. Please.”

You didn’t realize you were crying–yet again, fucking damn it–until he wiped them away. “I don’t want to not be your wife, either,” you said, your voice shaking. “I love you, I love you so much.”

His lips met yours in a blazing kiss, holding you closer than you thought possible. “I love you more,” he whispered against your lips. “I’m never letting you go.”

You dragged him inside, shutting the door before kissing him again. “You’re staying here. None of this bullshit of you staying with Tasha and Steve.”

“Gladly,” he chuckled, holding onto your waist. “But only if I get to sleep in your bed.”

“Only if we can shred those divorce papers.”

The moment was interrupted by his phone ringing, and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw it was Winifred. He shot you an apologetic look as he answered it. “Hey, ma.”

She was speaking so loudly you could hear her clearly. “Well?! How did it go?! Did you ask her?!”

“Yes, I asked her,” he said slowly, squeezing your side. “She said yes. I’m with her now.”

Both of you flinched away as she screamed in excitement. “GIVE HER THE PHONE! GIVE HER THE PHONE!”

You smiled as you pressed it to your ear. “Hi, mom.”

“BABY! I’M SO HAPPY! NOW WE CAN HAVE A REAL WEDDING!” She was speaking at a hundred miles an hour. “Do you want a summer or fall wedding? I think it might be too late to do summer, but I’m sure we could scrounge something together!”

You giggled as Bucky stole kisses from you while she was speaking, distracting you.

“Sweetheart? You there?”

“A late summer wedding sounds perfect,” you said, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “Absolutely perfect.”

#cmmsecretsanta #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

sirenprincess15 · 3 years ago

Text

Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 9

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: After centuries of being alone, Aleksander struggles to share his problems.

Chapter 9

Aleksander was busy working in his office. The roaring fire warmed him as he poured over ship manifests and army documentation on this Dmitry. If they could find who Dmitry traveled with, who was likely to be loyal to him, then perhaps they could identify any threats before they even came to the Little Palace.

When Inessa and Fedyor delivered Alina, Aleksander rushed to her side. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing them. He pulled her into his arms, rested his chin on top of her head, and deeply inhaled the scent of her. She was safe. “How was your day?”

“Boring. Fedyor and Inessa wouldn’t even let me go outside, not even for training. I’m never going to get stronger if I don’t train.”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution for what?”

He ignored her. She didn’t need the stress of knowing how anxious their enemies were to kill her. “I thought we’d take dinner in here tonight, if that’s okay with you.” His emotions were a mess. As haunted as he had been since Marie’s death, it was even worse now that the continued active threat was confirmed. He was relieved to be with her because he could see she was safe, but he was also still deeply ashamed of his panic attack from the nightmare the night before. He feared she would bring it up. He couldn’t talk about it. Eating in the main hall would stop her from doing so, but he was worried about security and didn’t want her with a large crowd. Her food would be easier to poison there, even with her taster. Truthfully, though, Aleksander wasn’t sure he had it in him to perform the intimidating General Kirigan act tonight, and he wanted her nearby for safety. Then he worried about what would happen when it was time for sleep. He had unleashed shadows last night, and they could have hurt her. He would never be able to forgive himself if he harmed her. That morning he had decided they’d have to sleep apart, but that was before he’d known of this new threat, of spies sneaking into the palace to check her routines. There was no way to know if the man he’d killed had been the first or the last. He couldn’t risk letting her sleep without someone strong guarding over her, and she’d never agree to let someone like Ivan stand over her bed. She had to stay here. Selfishly, he was grateful to have the excuse to keep her in his bed.

“Of course.” Her expression begged him to answer her previous question, but he didn’t. He well remembered what it was like to be afraid everywhere you went at all times. He could protect her from that.

“I do have quite a bit of work to complete, though. I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy. I did take the liberty of having Genya select some books from the library for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, as if signaling to him that she saw right through his attempts to distract her, but all she said was, “That was kind of you.”

He sat back at his desk and tried to focus on the lists in front of him. Something wasn’t adding up. Dmitry would appear on a ship crossing into West Ravka, but not on a return, and then somehow a time later be on a manifest for a ship crossing the wrong way. How was that possible? Was he missing manifests or was Dmitry paying someone off to keep his name off the lists?

Alina stepped behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. “Alek, you’re so tense. The stress coming off you is nearly unbearable. What happened today?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

She sighed. “Are we really going to do this thing tonight?”

He lifted his eyes to take in the annoyed look on her face. “Thing?”

“You know, where you pretend to be the oh so busy and important General Kirigan who uses his sense of authority to push people away? And then acts like he couldn’t possibly have any feelings or needs of his own? He’s fine. Everything is fine. He doesn’t need any help.”

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but she had. “Accurate,” he admitted.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret. The act doesn’t work with girls who have shared your bed.”

He laughed. Only she could call him on his behavior like this without irritating him. Only she could make him smile when he was otherwise so miserable. “I can assure you it worked fine on girls who have shared my bed. Apparently, it doesn’t work on the one girl I have let into my heart.”

“You’ve let me into your heart? So … let me help you.”

“Alina, it’s not that simple …”

“You can’t bear this burden alone, Aleksander. I won’t let you. Whatever is happening, it is crushing you. If not me, then get Ivan in here and talk to him. ”

“You want me to summon Ivan in here? This must be serious.”

“He is a good friend to you, and I know you trust him. I just want you to let someone help. You are not alone. This,” she said, putting her hand over the papers, “is not yours alone to figure out. Stop trying to solve everything with no support.”

“I’m not … used to having support.”

She nodded, took his hand, and squeezed it. “I know. I’m not really either. We’ve learned to do things alone, to hide pain and keep it to ourselves, but I know that problems are better solved together. Together, Aleksander. Stop trying to protect me from scary truths. Fedyor scanned every room we went into before he’d let me enter. I’m not stupid, Aleksander. If I can handle you cutting a Druskelle in half on top of me, I can handle whatever is threatening us now. Stop trying to push me away when it comes to important things. Let me help.”

He sighed. She was frightened already; she might as well know the truth. “Zoya caught a man trying to break in today. I have her guarding the palace exterior since she can’t seem to behave herself around you. He is working for Zlatan and was sent to spy on you. They’re making a plan for a better attempt on your life.”

Her shoulders slumped and her gaze fell to the floor as she took that in. “Hunted wherever I go. Still not used to that.”

He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “I will not let them succeed. I promise you that you will come to no harm.”

She looked into his eyes, stared there for a while, then found her strength. “Tell me about the papers.”

He quickly filled her in on what he had discovered about Dmitry and the mystery of the paperwork. It did actually feel good to have someone to discuss his findings with and not keep the thoughts spinning in his head. He talked through all of his ideas, no matter if they led nowhere. She indulged him and asked appropriate questions at all the right times. Finally, he arrived out loud at the stuck place he was in his head. He had so many theories, but how did he figure out if any of them were right?

She was quiet as she turned from page to page. Dinner arrived, and they ate in silence as they continued to try to find a pattern among the papers--the same captain, the same record keeper, accomplices that might travel with him. All ideas led nowhere, but they continued to look.

Hours later, Alina stood and walked into the war room.

“Alina?” He trailed after her. She was staring at the map. After a long time, he prompted her. “What is it?”

“I’m sure it’s stupid.” She shook her head and hugged herself.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that. That’s not you. Those are words from your past.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Hmm, well then, let’s hear it. I’m frustrated. Maybe if it’s really stupid we can have a good laugh about it.”

“I used to stare at the map and dream of finding a way around. I was told there is no around, but … is there? Any secret path or …”

Aleksander felt his stomach twist as the implications became clear. “There are reports of Fjerdans in West Ravka, rumors that Zlatan is aligning with them, letting Druseklle ...” A vision of Nina being tortured popped into his head. He had to fight his jaw from trembling so she couldn’t see how upset this made him. “There is an around if you’re in bed with the enemy. He’s going through Fjerda.”

She gasped as it came together in her head. “He sends his emissary to Fjerda with messages, who then gets a free pass into our country to deliver orders to his spies, but then he needs the quick return across to do it again. How long would it take to travel through Fjerda? Check the dates. Do they match?”

“Fjerdans. It’s worse than I thought.” He could feel the Fjerdan fires licking at his skin.

They spent another hour pouring over records and checking their theory. Finally, Alina yawned. “We should get some sleep.”

He wanted to tell her to go on ahead, but he didn’t want her sleeping in a room away from him. He almost offered to just watch over her, but he feared he would accidentally fall asleep and end up as he had the night before. His chest tightened with worry as he considered possibilities, none of which were acceptable.

“I tell you to come to bed, and that sense of dread is what I get? I might think you don’t want to …” she tried to lightly tease.

“You know why,” he whispered, still not wanting to talk about it.

“Which is all the more reason to get you to sleep soon. Your nightmares are worse the longer you try to keep yourself awake. Have you noticed?”

He sighed. “This morning I was trying to work myself up to telling you that it’s not safe to sleep with me anymore, but now with this information on this potential attack, it’s not safe to sleep away from me either.”

“Don’t you dare do that to me!”

“What?” To her?

“Don’t you realize what you do for me? For years I cried myself to sleep every night, Aleksander. For years! I used to lie there and wonder what was wrong with me that no one could want me, how it was possible for me to not belong anywhere. I slept with a weapon under my pillow to fend off anyone who might come to hurt me. And now I sleep in your arms. Desired. Loved. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

His heart ached for her. Was it possible she needed him as much as he needed her? “I hadn’t realized …”

“No matter how bad our nightmares get, we stay together. You make sure I can sleep, and I will do the same for you. Just promise to wake me up tonight. You can’t get yourself overtired like that again.”

“And you will wake me if the shadows start again?”

“I promise. Right away.”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling less selfish about allowing it if it benefited her too. It was better than the alternative of some spy finding her room in the night or her lying awake with a knife under her pillow wondering if someone was coming to kill her. He would have to take care of himself more for her--get an adequate amount of sleep, actually stop and eat meals instead of working through every waking hour, maybe even share some of his stresses with her. He would do those things if it meant he could be there to protect her.

“Now,” she said, kissing him gently. “What do I have to do to get you out of that kefta so I can kiss away all those battle scars?”

#darklina #alina x darkling #general kirigan #kirigan x alina #alina x kirigan #aleksander x alina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morovoza

17 notes · View notes

blind-rats · 4 years ago

Text

For the fans, it’s never about the “happy endings”. People misunderstood that it seems to get a good storyline, either it has to be happy or dark. It’s not that simple. It’s not Happy Ending vs Dark Ending. It’s about good storytelling and characterization.

For years, fans cared more about the characters. When a writer only focused on the plot, and not the character, then they would usually sacrifice the progression, the development, the investment, the connection, and the fans who actually watched the show FOR the characters since the beginning. Good storytelling is when it elevates the character (good or bad) into something layered.

Season 1:

Aaron was arrested for Lilly’s murder was a good thing; something that should be done. The baddie finally was captured, even got hit by a truck.

Logan wanted to jump off the bridge was a cliffhanger; something that would keep the fans tuned in for the next season.

Lianne took the money was IN character; she wasn’t a good mother and Veronica finally admitted that. For a whole season, V thought that by solving Lilly’s murder, her mom would return, but in the end, it didn’t matter. V accepted that. It sucks, but it was progress for Veronica that she finally let her go, although she lost the money. There was balance for these plots and these characters, that is why season 1 was the best.

Season 2:

Keith missed the flight wasn’t about a happy ending -- it was a set up for the next season because he received a mysterious assignment from Kendall. Again, it kept the fans wanting more.

Season 3:

Logan beat up Gory was a set up for the next season. Like I mentioned before, if the show wasn’t canceled, it would give Logan a darker path or a lighter path in his life. It was supposed to make the fans wanting more; what would happen to Logan? What would happen to him and Veronica? There was a lot of speculation at the time, but it wasn’t supposed to be the ending.

Keith lost the election, according to RT himself, because he helped Veronica. Which was IN character. He helped Veronica, and it ignited another rivalry between him and Jake Kane again. It was supposed to be another set up for the next season, and it wasn’t supposed to be the ending.

The Movie:

There are so many retcons in this movie that fans noticed and many expressed their displeasure because the storytelling of the movie was a bit weak, BUT they are still IN characters. Yes, there are some changes, obviously you can’t have the same characters from a decade ago. Logan was matured, Wallace was matured, Mac was matured, Weevil was matured, even Piz was matured.

Veronica was trying to find herself and decide what kind of person she wanted to be. At the end of the movie, she decided that she wanted to help people. And that is why many fans liked the movie because the character progressed into the next stage. The character didn’t stay stasis.

The movie had so many flaws, especially with cheesy dialogues, unimportant cameos, and frankly not so good plots. But when fans have waited for so long for the conclusion of the series, to have characters finally get their deserved/bittersweet endings, is a good thing.

The Books (The Thousand Dollar Tan Line and Mr. Kiss & Tell):

Maybe because the books were (co)written by Jennifer Graham, a woman, a fan, she knew about the characterization of the characters. Fans immediately noticed the differences between her writing and Rob’s writing; which parts were hers, which parts were RT’s.

Nobody cared nor remember about the professor and the murderer/rapist, but everyone mostly remembered about Haley, Lianne, Aurora, Hunter, Petra, Jade, Norris, Grace, and even The Gutiérrez cousins.

Notice that all of the memorable characters in the books were absent from season 4 because RT didn’t write them in the books and he felt that he didn’t need to explain their absence.

Logan and Weevil had a good relationship, and they both were friendly with each other. That was progress and should be allowed to continue.

Logan and Veronica had stability and a good relationship even when there were some problems. Even when Leo (who was inserted by RT) was there. But it was pretty much good characterization for both of the characters. Something that was missing in season 4.

Season 4:

To those who said that the whole season was great except for the ending, didn’t pay any attention. From the very beginning, fans were being introduced to a lot of new characters that fans didn’t know nor care like it was some sort a new show. They have their own storylines, their own plots, even their own endings. It would be fine if this was a brand new show, but it wasn’t. It was a continuation of the previous installment. The new characters from the books were much more nuanced compare to the new characters in season 4.

The show focused more on the plots instead of the characterizations. They focused more on the special guest stars instead of the regular cast.

The characterization of Veronica was WAY OFF; so different and seems to be regressed to her former self when she was 17 years old. She was rude to everyone including Logan and Wallace. She didn’t know what was going on with Keith. She was nonchalant about filming others having sex. She was using drugs. She was drinking and shooting a gun. She was mocking Wallace and Logan for having stability. She was more interested in having a fling with Leo but she refused to break up with Logan.

Fans would accept Veronica’s regression if there was something happened to her. Why she behave like that? What was the reason? She was having a life she chosen from the movie and the books, and yet she wasn’t happy. Because of what? What kind of trauma that made her regressed? No reason at all? Because normal life is not something that a detective should have? And that’s when the characterization was down the drain. When a character doesn’t have a motivation to do what’s right or what’s wrong, their behavior is considered to be OOC.

Matty, a new character, a white rich sociopath girl, wasn’t Veronica, and yet the fans were expected to treat and view her like she was Veronica.

Marcia, the new chief of police was a wasted character. She wasn’t a foil for Veronica, wasn’t an enemy of anybody, and she spent her time in the precinct only.

The assassins from the Mexican cartel had too many plots and not enough characterization, and frankly, the fans didn’t care about them, especially when the writers sacrificed Wallace and Mac.

The death of Logan wasn’t just the only thing that was considered worse, but the fact that they immediately didn’t see the aftermath. They never showed the emotional impact and didn’t even give the characters and the fans to mourn the character. RT tends to leapfrog a plot, even in iZombie, and put exposition instead.

The death of Logan was wasted, done by the most insignificant villain in the history of the show that didn’t even have a proper characterization and development. But the show promoted him like he was one of the best things ever happened.

Logan’s death wasn’t caused by a heroic moment or something dramatic. It was last minute and immediately swept under the carpet.

Veronica spent her last monologue talking about exposition. it was an ending. It wasn’t something that fans wanted to tune in, unlike the previous seasons, movie, and books.

So the whole notion that every season ended in a dark ending is partly untrue. Plot-wise, it should served their characters. It should elevated them into something better or something darker, but it was interesting nonetheless. Season 4 didn’t have that at all. All the characters were gone, finished. Veronica rode off to the sunset without any kind of satisfying ending, good or bad. Bad, mostly.

This is why Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul and Cobra Kai are praised because of the writings and characterization. We see the progression of the characters of Jimmy to Saul, who is not a good person, but still layered. We see the development of Johnny Lawrence; from a bully to an anti-hero. Or Hawk from a nerd into a bully himself. IT'S THE CHARACTERIZATION AND DEVELOPMENT accompanied by good storytelling. It’s not (just) about happy/sad ending.

It’s also not just about killing off the main character. There’s a reason why fans are still angry with the ending of How I Met Your Mother or LOST. So many people are pissed with the ending of Dexter and Game of Thrones. Don’t forget about The 100, Gilmore Girls, and Arrow. Not because of the dark endings of those shows, or the killing off the main characters. It was because they wasted so many years with the characterization and development just to get subverted endings that the writers seem to pat themselves on the back, ignoring any fans who had been there for the start.

And RT’s betrayal to the fans isn’t just about killing off the main character. It was the way he did it. He was using the fans to revive the show, using the fans’ money to revive it, knowing that he would kill off a popular character, knowing that he would piss loyal fans and the fandom, who had been very supportive with his works and projects, and yet still done it, just because he despised a character he created for so long. Even BBC News knew this trend and called him out. It was the way he exploited the fans that were considered to be a betrayal.

#Veronica Mars #The 100 #Arrow #Rob Thomas #Jason Rothenberg

70 notes · View notes

horrorslashergirl · 4 years ago

Note

May I request another part of Another chance to start off?

Chromeskull x Reader- Another chance to start off Part 4

Authors Note: This oneshot that turned into a story. I almost forgot about it. Also adding some Jesse Childhood Ideas because why not?

Warnings: 18+ because of childhood abuse and disturbing themes about little Jesse

Words: 1.7k

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

It's been two months and you still haven't heard anything from your so-called 'hero' other than the fact that he was on business as his assistant, Spann, called it. That left you to take care of your baby, but still no ability to go out of his place, save for the huge lawn around the palatial villa that you now resided in.

You didn't know anything about this man, and Spann refused to give you any details because it wasn't her place to spoke of such personal details, and according to her, it was his business to tell you, leaving you with tons of question about Jesse, at last, you knew his name.

Considering how much of a serious and sophisticated security system he had, you could only guess he was an important man. You took liberties when your little buddle of joy was sleeping to explore the villa. You agreed that his favorite colors were black, white, and accents of silver chrome and he definitely had an affiliation with skulls, and he had very expensive tastes in everything down from his cars to his clothes to the smallest things.

You were currently sitting on an armchair next to the crib of your baby waiting for your daughter to wake up and feed her.

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

Jesse Cromeans had a lot of issues and as big as his 6'7 tall frame he was a handful package; a bad temper, certain sadistic urges, a sassy attitude that made tons of enemies, not like any of them dared to go against him, but little people to probably none knew the whole story behind who he truly was.

One who was very observant could possibly tell that Jesse had mommy issues, considering his victims were all female, save for the brown-nosing males that were just collateral victims.

As a little boy, he was very shy, and his muteness didn't help him either. His family was always a mystery to most who knew him, but none dared to ask him about his relatives, not like in the present he had any. He didn't know his father, and he was always curious as a little boy about who his daddy was.

His mother, from the remaining memories, was a very beautiful woman, giving birth at a young age of twenties to little Jesse. His father didn't want to take the responsibility of raising a child, especially a disabled one, so he pretty much vanished after his mother gave birth to Jesse.

She was still young and clueless about raising a child, alas she took the responsibility and tried, for three years until she was diagnosed with bone cancer. Young mother at the flower of age with such a severe form of cancer was definitely a nightmare and it only persisted until Jesse was six and she died, leaving him to what he knew was the grandfather of his own daddy.

When Jesse asked his grandfather about his dad, the old man simply said that he shouldn't worry about dead bodies like that. His grandfather was a mortician, owning a funeral home company, that left Jesse with spending most of his time there, with the corpses. At first, he was just playing in the hallways, until he got curious and walked into a room, his brown innocent eyes widening at the scene.

That really scarred his mind, his grandfather on top of a dead woman's body...

It only turned worse when his legal guardian, his grandfather getting the full rights of raising Jesse, indulged the little boy into these activities; the first body being that of his own mother.

That not scarred his mind, it destroyed his psychical health.

That was the start of creating a beast, the beast he was today.

Probably that's why he was drawn to you; you were much younger than he was. What you didn't knew was that ever since you were brought to his place you have been monitored day and night. He loved to watch you nurture your baby, take care of the little human that was made of purity and innocence.

He kind of felt jealous in a way, because he wanted the same affection.

Definitely mommy issues.

Who could really blame him? He didn't exactly have a woman type to look up at, and girls were definitely a subject that was tough for him. In his teen years, girls were looking more up to the loud, obnoxious, and confident ones.

Since he started hitting puberty, he grew in height, and grew, and grew. He was a tall and lanky kind of guy, perhaps very awkward, but very intelligent, despite not getting credit for it.

With girls it was a different story, they didn't have the patience with him and his signing. His teenage years were full of nicknames because of his height, girls making fun of him, teasing him, but not in the cute kind way. He slowly started to realize why his grandfather had certain tastes in...women.

If they are dead, they cannot hurt you. Simple.

Still, from time to time he had that starving for affection, someone to be genuinely there for him.

He remembered after he finished high school...He left his hometown and after years of college and slowly but successfully starting his own business, he changed. The lanky and awkward guy bloomed into a ferocious and manipulative mastermind; pale skin by each year filled with more ink, muscles filling his lanky figure.

Jesse changed.

At first, it felt weird to have such control, but once he got that taste, he never wanted to let it go.

Back in the present days, Jesse didn't know what to think of you; he was probably pitying you, although that was highly unlike him. He pities none but seeing you watch over your offspring like a protective mother made his heartbeat in a way he didn't know it was possible.

He took a sip of his whiskey as he looked at the computer screen; tomorrow he will get back home to you and perhaps get to an arrangement, after all, you were wearing his family name.

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

It was morning, but you were awake for three hours, now you just finished feeding your daughter and she closed her eyes; after all, it was still the period of the baby that she needed more sleep than an adult, so you tucked her in, smiling at her angelic face.

You heard the door slightly open and turned around, expecting Spann, but you were surprised to see Jesse, your eyes quickly turning into a slight glare, getting in front of the baby's crib like a shielding mother lion.

Jesse found many things attractive on a female, but this was definitely something that triggered a more primal part of his male instincts. There was just something mesmerizing about a mother that protects her baby.

He pulled out his phone to type.

'We need to talk.' the electronic voice spoke, making you furrow your brows.

Despite wanting to give him a piece of your mind, you learned from your past relationship, if you could call it that, that yelling and throwing tantrums won't solve a problem, so you nodded, taking a glance at your baby, not exactly feeling like leaving.

'Spann will look over her while we discuss.' he spoke through the phone.

You followed him downstairs to his study, opening the door for you to enter then closing it to have privacy. You sat down on one of the armchairs in front of his desk, while he took his designated place behind the huge black desk.

'I know things have been inconvenient.'

You snorted at that.

"More like very chaotic. Look...I am very mad by this whole kidnapping-owning thing, but I also knew I should be grateful to you for saving me from my now dead abusive husband, which reminds me....You killed him...and it didn't look like it was your first time." you spoke in a firm voice.

Jesse smirked at that. Smart one...That's good.

'Then I should probably let you know everything.'

He began to explain everything, down from his facade chroming business to the real deal of the organization, everything about killing, snuff films, and piggies. It was like someone was telling you a horror story, leaving you shocked and disgusted.

"Great....so basically now I am involved in a mafia kind of thing." you sarcastically said, rubbing your forehead in exasperation.

'You can take it like that.' He waved it off, shrugging.

You sighed, then looked at him.

"What will happen to me?" you asked, pursing your lips into a thin line.

'Nothing. If I wanted you dead, you would have been from that night we meet.'

"That really relaxes me." you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

'I will protect you and your daughter.'

That surprised you. Why was he so willing to help a woman he barely knew and her baby? You tried to find an answer yourself but decided to ask him and his answer was ever more so intriguing you.

'No child deserves to grow without parents.'

He looked like he knew what he meant, perhaps he went through the same ordeal, without family, but it was too early to ask him such sensitive topics since you didn't know each other that good.

"So, you basically want me as your wife?" you asked in amusement, but his look showed that he was serious.

'I'm not forcing you. It's your choice.'

You huffed then decided.

"Probably too early...Can I, at last, get to know my future husband?" you asked, sassiness dripping from your voice, but behind it, it was sincerity.

Jesse was to say it, surprised by your words, and couldn't help but give you a toothy grin. He got up from his chair and walked towards you. You got up as well and were a little nervous when he was just inches away from you, his fingers typing on his phone.

'Tonight. Dinner. Spann will babysit your daughter. You need some quality time.'

You thought a little about it and decided that everyone deserved a chance to start off.

"Yes. I would like that."

Jesse smirked in victory and leaned down to kiss you, only for your index finger to press gently against his scarred lips.

"Don't push your luck." you said with a cheeky smile, making him chuckle silently.

Yes, indeed everyone deserved another chance to start off.

#Chromeskull #chromeskull x reader #Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #jesse cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader #slasher x reader #horror movies

148 notes · View notes