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accidentalfanficwriter · 2 years ago

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of water and coal; a finnick odair fanfic

Fair warning: I'm not a finnick stan and I don't know all that much about him. It's been awhile since I read the books but I was using AI and got inspired to write something fun.

CHAPTER 1

TW: Mentions of assault/violence

As I sit slumped against a post in this unfamiliar market, I try to remember who I am. I am Lyra Torres, I am 22 years old. I am from District Twelve. But this isn’t District Twelve, it can’t be. I’ve never seen this place before. I wince at a deep pain in my side as I try to breathe. I look down to see my hand covering my waist, I don’t remember why I’m hurting, but when I lift my hand I see a bullet wound. I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale sharply. That’s right, I was shot. There’s blood pooling by my legs, the edges of the puddle fuzzy as it mixes with water. It’s raining, I realize, as water drips from the wood above me. Where am I? My vision is blurred by the rain and I wipe messily at my eyes with the edge of my damp sleeve. I hear footsteps and fear runs through my body. I can’t get up, I can’t move, everything in my body is screaming at me, telling me I’m in danger, but I’m stuck. It feels as if my body weighs a ton. I watch through the rain as a tall figure approaches me. This is it, I tell myself, this is how I die. A familiar face comes into view as the man crouches beside me. I can’t place where I’ve seen him before but I’m certain that I have. He’s speaking to me but I can’t make out his words.

“What?” I ask in confusion, “I can’t understand you.”

The man repeats himself and this time my brain manages to make sense of it, “Are you hurt?”

It takes me a moment to process his words but I nod and look down at my waist, lifting my hand to reveal the wound. I can feel the atmosphere shift as he sees it, but I can’t react.

“What happened?” He asks, his voice is so familiar, “Who hurt you?”

I shake my head, I can’t make sense of anything, I can’t remember, “Someone shot me.”

In my state of delirium, I almost laugh as I point out the obvious, but the man doesn’t seem to think it’s funny. I watch as he glances around for a moment before looking back at me as if he’s trying to place where he’s seen me before.

“Hey, I know you,” he tells me, scooting closer to me and shielding his eyes from the rain, “You’re related to Haymitch, right?”

Oh yes, Haymitch, that sounds familiar. I try to run through my head as quickly as I can, trying to recall how I’m related to Haymitch.

“He’s my godfather,” I remember, my words are slurred but he seems to understand.

“That’s right, I’ve seen you with him on the news,” the man tells me, he puts his arm around my back and tries to stand up, “Here, let me help you up.”

“No,” I whine, everything hurts and the world is already spinning as he tries to pull me to my feet.

“Yes, you need medical attention,” he insists, effectively pulling me up this time.

As his face comes into view again, I ask, “Are you Haymitch?”

The man laughs for a moment, apparently what I said was humorous, “No, I’m Finnick.”

The name sounds familiar, “Finnick?”

“That’s right, Finnick Odair,” he tells me, pulling me in some unknown direction.

I can barely see two feet in front of me in the state I’m in so I keep my eyes fixed on my savior, then it hits me. Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games.

I gasp almost comically, “Finnick? What are you doing in District Twelve?”

“We’re not in District Twelve,” he corrects me, using little effort to drag me forward.

“We’re not?” I ask, dumbfounded, none of this makes any sense, “Where are we?”

He stops walking for a moment and turns to face me, “We’re in District Four, what the hell happened to you?”

Before I can answer I feel nauseous. I must be losing blood. I might be delirious but I know for certain I do not want to throw up on Finnick Odair of all people. But before I even have the chance to lose what little food I might have in my stomach, I pass out.

I wake up some time later and find myself lying on a cot somewhere I don’t recognize. The room is dark but it smells sterile. I try to sit up but immediately lay back down when I realize how much my side hurts.

“Yeah, I bet that hurts,” a voice comes from somewhere in the room.

I freeze, terror filling my body as I hear the person stand up and walk over to me. I watch stiffly as Finnick Odair comes into view. There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe how confused I am at this moment.

“Finnick Odair?” I almost scoff.

“The one and only,” he replies with a sly smile.

I stare up at him for a moment, trying to figure out where the hell I am and why Finnick Odair is standing over me. I’m wracking my brain, but I can’t remember anything, only the basics.

“You look confused,” he points out the obvious, “you don’t remember yesterday?”

I shake my head.

“Try harder,” he pushes, although his words seem harsh, the look in his eyes says otherwise.

I look down at my waist and see the bandage wrapped around it. Slowly, yesterday comes back to me. I remember feeling like I was dying, sitting against some soggy post in another unfamiliar location. I recall the face of Finnick Odair coming into view as he asked me questions. I remember feeling dizzy and nauseous like I was about to throw up. Did I throw up on him?

My eyes go wide, “Did I throw up on you?”

Finnick visibly tries to hold back a smile at my words and clears his throat, “No, fortunately, you passed out before your body could repel anything.”

Although I’m grateful that I didn’t throw up on him, that doesn’t ease my anxiety one bit.

“Where am I?” I ask him.

He frowns, “I can’t tell you that.”

“What district am I in, Finnick?” I insist, propping myself up on my elbows despite the pain in my side.

He considers his answer for a moment, glancing around the room as if someone could be watching us, before answering, “District Four.”

My face contorts in utter confusion. District Four, how the hell did I end up here? As if predicting my next question, Finnick speaks.

“I don’t know how you got here, I found you in a sketchy part of town bleeding out,” he looks displeased, like the memory genuinely upsets him.

“And you decided to bring me…?” I try once more to get him to reveal where we are, but he simply shakes his head at me.

“Like I said, I can’t tell you,” he reminds me, “Not now.”

I watch as he paces around the room. Only now do I really make out where I am. Even though there’s hardly any light, I can see the room has no windows, only a door on the far side of the room. I try to sit up fully but Finnick holds up a hand.

“Don’t try and sit up,” he says, “You lost a lot of blood.”

I reluctantly lay back down and stare up at the ceiling. There is only one dim fluorescent light on the entire ceiling.

“Why won’t you tell me where we are?”

“It’s complicated,” he answers, stepping closer to me, “I would if I could, but people are already upset with me for bringing you here as it is.”

I furrow my eyebrows, my head hurts and this whole situation seems to be making it worse.

“So what now?” I ask.

Finnick shrugs and sits on the edge of my bed, “There are two options. One, we knock you out and drop you off in town-”

“I’ll die if you send me back there, a Peacekeeper already tried to kill me once,” I say without realizing.

Finnick almost looks furious, “A Peacekeeper did this to you?”

I now realize I can remember. I vaguely remember stumbling off a train and into the market. I got lost, and then a Peacekeeper cornered me. As the memories flood back to me I feel sick to my stomach.

“Oh god,” I mutter to myself, reaching up to cover my eyes.

“Do you remember what they looked like?” Finnick presses.

I shake my head, “He was wearing a helmet, but I remember his voice.”

“Why the hell would a Peacekeeper shoot an unarmed civilian?” I can hear the anger in his voice, although he knows in his heart the right Peacekeeper would jump at the chance to kill someone for no reason.

“Because I’m not supposed to be here,” I remove my hands from my face, tears building in my eyes, “I’m supposed to be on the train with Haymitch.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, he only watches me as if he’s waiting for me to continue.

“Let me sit up,” I request.

“No, the doctor said you shouldn’t sit up on your own for a day or so,” Finnick refuses.

“Then help me sit up,” I beg, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m about to freak out,” I have a wild look in my eyes, it’s all too much.

Finnick opens his mouth to protest but decides against it when he sees my expression. He gingerly helps me sit up and adjust the bed. He seems almost afraid to touch me as if one wrong move will set me off. When I’m finally upright, he’s staring at me expectantly.

“The Victory Tour,” I tell him, taking a deep breath.

“What?” He narrows his eyes.

“I was on the Victory with Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta,” I stare down at my hands blankly, “Haymitch insists on bringing me, I’m all he has left. He refuses to leave me alone when he leaves the District.”

I pause and look up at Finnick, he’s watching me intently.

“How long ago were they here?” I ask, the timeline feels blurry.

“Two days ago,” Finnick replies coldly.

They’re long gone by now, even if Haymitch threw a fit, President Snow wouldn’t let them delay the tour just to find me.

“Two days ago,” I repeat numbly, “I think Haymitch and I got into a fight. It was about something stupid, I’m sure.”

I pull the thin sheet resting on my legs up to my neck as I speak.

“I remember getting drunk. I never drink, I hate what it does to Haymitch,” I confess, “But I was just so upset I couldn’t resist. I think I got off the train right before we were supposed to leave and I got lost. I’ve never visited another District before.”

My stomach churns as I recall what happened next. I’m waiting for Finnick to stop me, to tell me to save it for someone who cares, but he doesn’t. Instead, I find him hanging onto every word.

“He came out of nowhere. He must’ve been following me for blocks. He was so big, bigger than any man I’ve ever seen before,” my eyebrows knit together, “He tried to grab me, he said he’d seen me on TV before. Wanted to know what a ‘pretty little thing’ like me was doing in that part of town. I tried to scream but he put his hand over my mouth so I bit him. Then he shot me.”

I look down at my hands again to find that I’m gripping the sheets so hard my knuckles are turning white, “He must’ve thought I was dead. I don’t think he’s ever shot someone before, he was so spooked.”

Finnick looks as if he’s about to say something but I beat him to it, “Why are you here, Finnick? Why did you save me?”

“Would you rather I let you bleed out in the streets?” He asks in a serious tone.

“Why did you save me?” I repeat.

Finnick simply stares back at me, unsure of what to say. And then I remember.

“What’s the second option?”

“What?” He questions.

“You said I had two options,” I remind him, “What’s the second option?”

He looks hesitant, as he’s worried his next words will upset me. I know from his expression that they will.

“Join the rebellion.”

I almost can’t believe my ears, I want to laugh.

“What?” I challenge.

“You heard me,” there’s not a trace of jest in his voice, “Join the rebellion.”

“If Haymitch found out I joined the revolution because of you, he’d hunt you down and kill you himself,” I almost scoff.

“So you’re content with being a bystander then? One of those ungrateful bastards who’s fine being under the thumb of the capital?” Finnick glares at me, “Don’t you want things to change?”

“How could I not?” I start to feel angry, “Every day I watch as people starve in my district. You don’t know what it’s like in the seam.”

“Then do something about it,” Finnick retorts.

“Don’t you think I want to?” I raise my voice, “Don’t you think I wish there was something I could do? A way for me to stop the games and feed the starving children of my district?”

“If you’re so upset, why are you riding around on the Victor’s train instead of fighting for what’s right?”

I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to smack Finnick Odair before, and never did I think I would have the opportunity to do so, but I hold back, “Haymitch won’t allow it. Have you talked to him before? He’s not exactly the most flexible person. I can’t sneeze without him knowing. Do you think I enjoy sitting and watching as the districts fall to pieces?”

Finnick looks almost disgusted with me and it makes my blood boil.

“I’m not a victor like you or Katniss. I have no influence,” I growl, “The only reason I’m still alive is because Haymitch is my godfather.”

“So what if he won’t allow it? Stand up for yourself. You’re your own person, not a sheep meant to follow whatever Haymitch says. You have free will, use it,” he looks like he wants to reach out and grab me by my shirt.

“I’m not a sheep,” I say through gritted teeth, “This is the first time I’ve been away from Haymitch since my parents died and I got shot and almost assaulted. What the hell do you expect me to do, strangle a peacekeeper?”

“I want you to join the revolution,” he reiterates.

“Oh I’ll join the revolution, but when the time comes, it’s you that will have to explain my death to Haymitch,” my eyes are like daggers as I stare back at him.

“Is that a threat?” He scoffs, “Are you threatening a victor?”

“No, but Haymitch will,” I reply.

“I think I can handle that old man,” Finnick practically spits, “Now are you in, or not?”

“I’m in, but only if I never have to see you again,” I tell him.

Finnick laughs, “Oh I’m sure that can be arranged.”

And with that, Finnick gets up and leaves the room. The moment the door shuts behind him I begin to scream. I can’t help it as hot, angry tears stream down my cheeks. I so badly want to slam my head into the wall but I can hardly move. Instead, I cry until my head is pounding and I feel like I can’t breathe. Eventually, I fall asleep.

#hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #finnick odair #finnick x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #smut #eventual smut #angst #mild enemies to lovers

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h-didanart · 2 months ago

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Hmmm, sure! Let’s answer these

1- Bloodmoon definitely, both versions

2- Not really sure tbh, I don’t outright hate any characters. I guess Goliath since I know them the least?

3-ooooh favorite episodes… “Sun and Moon REACT to Their OPPOSITES FANART” since that’s the first one I watched, “Moon LEARNS Sun’s DARK SECRET in VRChat” because it’s amazing, “can Sun and Moon SURVIVE NATURAL DISASTERS?! In Minecraft” because it’s just so chaotic and funny

4- I was in the middle of writing something along the lines of ‘don’t have one’ when I remembered the existence of MechShark, which like, I love. Specifically the actually Cured and not evil Ruin with Solar version :3

5- oooooh, hmmm, last year 2023, I believe a few days before Bloodmoon got revived, I know for sure I was hooked by the time the Takeover started

6- Sun Star Power Arc. Sun Star Power Arc hands down. Sun trying to do something to keep Nem (New Moon) away from danger, trying to deal with the problem himself, because he can’t lose him again. Sun running himself to the ground training in secret, passing out for hours, lying to his brother’s face. And in turn Nem noticing something wrong with Sun, trying to ask about it. The Ruin Monty fiasco, the confrontation—

“How is this affecting you? Or anything for that matter? How is—“

“BECAUSE YOURE MY BROTHER… how would you having an awful mental state not affect me? How did me having an awful mental state not affect you? Your turn hypocrite”

—Sun confessing to having hallucinations, Nem trying to comfort him, Sun flinching back, Sun being made to take a break… Nem uncovering Sun’s lies. Their fight.

“Th-there’s a method to it”

“I DONT CARE IF THERES A METHOD I DONT WANNA LOSE MY BROTHER”

Jigsaw’s kidnapping of Sun.

“What Sun?”

“Moon I I-“

“Oh Sun stop speaking! Hello Moon~”

“… Sun. Where. Are you?”

“I-I don’t know”

“He’s in a place of security—“

“FREAKSHOW SHUT UP”

The tenseness between them. The therapy session. And then, Eclipse’s death, Sun using his power to push him in, Nem turning his back to Eclipse as he dies. And then the concern over Sun’s near destroyed state. What more could we want? It’s the perfect arc

7- least favorite… this one that just finished I think. It didn’t really grab my attention as much as the others, yeah I watched some episodes but generally avoided the story as much as possible.

8- I am! Lunar models, very specifically Second Version Bloodmoons, I have gotten accustomed enough to their general design to be able to tweak it just enough to differentiate between aus in a relatively short time (ex. the Retired twins having their jacket, Lone having a messed up eye and looking more like and Adaptation AI, Botany having a sun hat, Keeper looking more like an assassin, Amnesiac being generally softer and with less spikes, Rotting being fancy)

9- Monty. How do you even start there? Actually I think the Glamrocks in general, I’ve never even drawn them all

10- I am! This might surprise you all, but Moon. The narrative style I use for Moon— with dashes for the asides— And the first person style add ons! Are very fun to write. On top of that I think I just am good at unreliable narrators, and who’s more unreliable than the smarter-than-thou self deprecating-as-hell jerk? Don’t answer that

11- to absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s The Bloodmoon One. 4k+ hits, over 200 comments, almost 40k words by now, I cannot overstate how surprised I was at the sheer amounts of love this one has and is getting with all the topics and themes it covers, I fully expected to get a few hate comments about me being awful for writing the twins going through all that they go through or for traumatizing them too much or something. But now that we’re here, I must confess, this one is also my favorite. I got extremely attached to the twins, despite putting them through such an awful hell and making them sink deeper and deeper into the depths of depression, they are my dear boys and I’m going to make sure their story has a good conclusion no matter how many more months it takes. And no, it’s not actually called The Bloodmoon One publicly, just in my notes app, due to the nature of the story I just think it’d be better if I did not disclose the name is all

Anyways this was very fun!

Hello, guys

I want to ask you questions:

Who is your favourite TSAMS character/characters?

What TSAMS character/characters do you hate?

What is your favourite TSAMS episode/episodes?

What is your favourite TSAMS ship/ships?

When did you first start watching TSAMS?

What is your favourite TSAMS arc?

What is your least favourite TSAMS arc?

(If you are an artist) What TSAMS character/characters is the easiest to draw for you?

(If you are an artist) What TSAMS character/characters is the hardest to draw for you?

(If you are a writer) What TSAMS character/characters is the most fun to write to you?

(If you are a writer) What is your most popular TSAMS fanfic?

#tsams #tsams fandom #sams fandom #posts by others #the art demons won #rambling #fandom questions #I guess?#very very fun to do #thank you!

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thehistoriangirl · 2 years ago

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Until Our Secrets Drift Us Apart [5]

I’m not even gonna comment about this thingy being in hiatus for so long. Thanks for the people who commented some days ago about this story, it made me remember it was still ongoing on paper and only finished in my mind 🤡 🚩

Viktor x Fem!Reader---Marriage of Convenience /Modern AU----7.1K---SFW

> M A S T E R L I S T <

<- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis: Upon the surprising death of the CEO of Daxer Corp., the battle for the presidential chair began with unexpected violence. Threaten to lose everything you’ve been working on during your entire life; it’s time you must find a desperate solution to grasp the ontrol over your part of the emporium, and even your own freedom. Which better idea than solidifying your subsidiary’s future than ally with the rising AI company, Hextech? And oh, what a special type of alliance it will be...

Chapter Summary: It’s time to assist to the family reunion and fake to be happily married. But is it really just pretending?

5: If Sour Are the Lies;

The space in the car was too narrow to talk about this, but you had to be prepared for whatever kind of interrogatory your family would put Viktor under—not for your own sake, but theirs. Maybe the others could engage in arranged marriages, but not you. You were an important piece in the chessboard they wouldn’t be willing to lose.

“So”, you said, because you didn’t know how to properly continue. Cold fingers were playing with the strap of your purse tugged against your lap. “Tell me how you fell in love with me.”

Viktor closed the driver’s door a little bit too hard to your nerves, making you jump.

“Pardon?”

“I—I mean. The story we’re going to tell my family about us." You feigned to put on the seatbelt, only to discover you already have it on. “We can’t put our guard down. If our versions are too different, they’re going to suspect.”

He accommodated in his seat, taking his black coat off saying that the interior was too hot. You didn’t comment about opening the window, trying to divert your gaze from his pink cheeks. “I suppose you’re right. I haven’t thought about that… how much is it to say?”

“Not too much, that’s for sure. Only a believable beginning, I guess. My extended family isn't close to me, so you have space to imagine different scenarios.”

“And why, eh… don’t you come up with the story?”

You shrugged. “I’m bad at lying.” You two shared a quiet laugh then. “I don’t want to force you to say something you aren’t comfortable with.”

Viktor turned on the car, ready to depart into the rural suburbs where the Daxer’s family house was located. Humming deep in thought as the building complex disappeared in the distance, streets with flying advertisements in the big squares and skyscrapers blurring just as the little people came in and out from them.

“In university,” he began, voice unsure and wavy. “I met you in university.”

You furrowed, hands clapping lightly. “That’s a good idea! Jayce told me you two met there, right?” Viktor nodded. “Which means you studied at the same place as me, only with a couple of years of difference.”

Viktor shifted his posture once the sun moved to the front, the rays of the noon hours illuminated his face like it was a painter’s work, honey pooling in his eyes, skin pale and creamy, locks of hair shining between a copperish-mahogany tone.

You’re staring, you remembered yourself.

“Yes, exactly. But we were in different years, so we didn’t see each other most of the time. Actually, I didn’t come to you until Jayce introduce us years after. But I was granted a scholarship from your Mother’s program, and it allowed me to see you around from time to time. ” His face was glued to the highway in front, right hand grasping the speed lever too hard the plastic was cracking. “Thus, I couldn't tell you, that I… I had feelings for you since university. Until Jayce present us again, and we began to date.” A pause, your heart skipped a beat or two. Maybe it was time to open the window. “In a low profile, of course.”

“A-and then, just when I was about to present you officially to Mother, she passed away.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, even if you felt his gaze upon your features illuminated with the soft sunlight. “That’s enough. They won’t ask more.”

“It… is it a good story?”

You smiled at him, remembering that nothing of this was real. A stupid feeling of shame ran over your body.

“Ah, yes, yes! It’s very good and… romantic, I think.” You couldn’t avoid the heat covering your cheeks but hoped he didn’t notice. Viktor was too focused on driving anyway. “Did you say you got my mom’s scholarship?”

He hummed. “That’s how I enrolled in university.”

“I remember Jayce couldn’t get it when he applied, so he had to request one from the Kirammans’ program.”

“I might add I prepared for months before taking both the writing test and the interview.” The city was staying behind, houses replaced building complexes, trees beginning to appear sporadically like emerald glimpses. Few cars traveled the bumpy road ahead that got narrow after getting out of the city's heart. "Was the only chance I got to assist to college, so I couldn't not give my all.”

The velocity diminished with the speed limit sign. He could see you freely here, as trees outlined the straight path ahead, light playing in with the shadows from the foliage, wind whistling softly as you slightly opened your window a few moments ago.

“And you? What did you study?”

“Business School, like my mother,” you answered shortly after. There wasn’t much to tell. “Then, I did a master's in Digital Business and Innovation, so I could be able to build my branch in Digital Security out of Daxer’s main corporation.”

Viktor pondered for a moment. “Did you not like it, Business School?”

“Not really, but it was what my mom expected me to do.” You weren’t looking at him, instead, your index was tracing figures in the leather of your seat.

His voice was low and unsure when he continued. “Perhaps you can make something you like more now?”

You shook your head, eyes closed. “I can’t let all the work my mom poured into Daxer just be wasted.” You paused, biting your bottom lip absently, even if Viktor did notice it. “She didn’t adopt me to slide out from the responsibilities once she was gone.”

The only reason I’m a Daxer it’s because she needed a trustworthy legacy. Your lips parted, voice so low you wanted the wind to carry it far away. “If I can’t do that, then I’m useless.”

Viktor didn’t say anything until you guided him out the principal road into a bifurcation covered with bushes and high cherry trees. You didn’t recall you’d be missing the characteristic smell of wet soil mixed with flowers scattered in neatly cut bushes along the way. Some gardeners looked briefly at the car, their faces blurry to distinguish if some were familiar.

“Does this terrain belong to you?” His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration as the house’s roofs peeked from over some trees’ canopies, black tiles against spotless white rock.

“Who knows? The last owner was my mother,” sighing, you saw several cars parked in the right annex of the house. You were late, it seemed. “Sometimes I forget that there are other matters to solve besides the Daxer’s presidential chair.”

Viktor stopped the enginery, silence enveloping you as both disengaged the seatbelt and collected your things, windows closed. He put his coat back on and you rolled your ankles after a couple of hours in the same position.

“Let’s go or I’ll never get out of your car.” You laughed, but Viktor touched your left hand before you could pull the door handle, eyes widened with surprise, but you didn't pull away.

“I’m here next to you. Everything will be alright.”

*~*~*~*

“Are you happy now the family is a laughingstock in the public media?” Your aunt's eyes would've pierced your soul if you weren't so happy the plan worked, even if you couldn't gloat out loud. Well, not here.

That was the welcoming phrase you heard the first thing you put your feet in the living room.

“I’m glad to see you again, aunt.” Viktor was a few steps behind you, dragging one suitcase while he inspected the enormous house, even if it was ‘ridiculously lavishing’ and out of his taste. You wanted to draw a distance between him and your family so they couldn’t pick on him right on. “And about the urgent matter, I think you should be relieved it wasn’t far worse. After all, it could have been like that time Mathieu engaged in a bar fight a couple of years ago." You ignored the furious glare your cousin sent you from his supposedly triumphant place on the nearer couch. “I believe he was charged with assault, no?”

Your aunt almost growled, the sound drowned in a fake laugh. "Why bring such past thing? This concerns us now.”

You furrowed. “My personal life doesn’t concern any of you. It never did in the past, and it won’t from now on.” Tilting your head, you looked at the rest of your extended family shifting awkwardly in their seats. The scold had been turned against them. You flutter your fingers behind your back to catch Viktor’s attention, looking briefly at him from over your shoulder. That was his cue to enter, you made him a little space in the welcome doormat.

He pressed his body behind your back, his hand firmly pressed against yours, fingers intertwined.

Everything will be alright, I’m right here.

“I present you all to my husband, Viktor Dvorak.” You step aside to let them see him, glaring at them as some of them tried to glare at him. But Viktor, you discovered not without amusement, had a good cold expression under his sleeve. Eagle golden eyes swept the room as he nodded politely, without a smile.

“If there’s nothing to discuss with me anymore, we will be in our designated room until dinner.”

Mathieu scoffed. “Until dinner? Why don’t you say you want to avoid us by locking yourself in the room?”

“Dear cousin,” you said, already dragging your suitcase while Viktor followed close. “I’m going to be busy with my husband. We couldn’t have a honeymoon, but I think we can seize this opportunity.” Ignoring the horrified look Viktor gave you, his face covered entirely with a deep red, from his ears to his neck. You wanted to chuckle, he looked cute. “Can you blame me? We’re newlyweds, after all.” You must remember that little fact.

Your family sitting amusingly in the living room to watch the show develop in front of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats. It was too much information, and it was okay. Peeking above your head to signal him to climb the stairs first, he attempted to smile, but his flustered state only let him expand his lips in a fine line that barely curved at the edges.

Your aunt sent you a sour grimace while your steps echoed in the marble. “I will need to talk with you after dinner, dear.”

“As you wish. Good day, everyone. It was a very heartwarming greeting.” The house didn’t have an elevator, but the stairs were wide enough to allow Viktor to stop and catch his breath as you help him to lift his suitcase.

“I’m sorry for slowing you down.”

You smiled when he leaned towards you to take the stairs’ rail for a moment. “Not at all, it’s just fine. Take your time.”

His eyes were directed towards the living room, just below the stairs. From the glass outlining the rail’s wall, you could see your family’s figures and their muffled murmurs. “They’re looking at us,” Viktor muttered, the blush reappearing in his cheeks, this time of light pink.

“Then let them,” you said, leaning against the rail, hands brushing. You put on your tiptoes and gave him a peck on his nose. Giggling, you tried to retreat, but Viktor acted quicker, the hand that carried the suitcase went to cup your cheek.

It was a shy kiss, but a kiss nevertheless. Contrary to the desperate kiss on the balcony, this one was caged with emotions that got you dumbfounded when his lips barely brushed yours, his breath moving the little hairs pocking in your forehead. It ended too quickly, with him withdrawing, taking his suitcase to drag it into the last steps.

He was smiling. “Are you coming?”

“Um,” you only managed to say, shaky fingers in the handle of your suitcase as you advanced up.

As you already guessed, your designated room was on the last floor, at the end of the corridor. The floor was the place your mother and you stayed in your last visits, leaving the rest of the house to noisier familiars. It was divided by the library, your mother’s office, your recreational room, and both your bedrooms.

Your old room was stagnant in time, books you couldn't finish over the holidays piled on the nightstand where the cleaning staff put them with a bookmark inside. Clothes tucked in the closet that probably wouldn’t fit you anymore.

But it was colder, the air conditioner connected making your skin covered with goosebumbs when you put your purse over the bed. Viktor was inspecting the room too, eyes wandering over the little shelves filled with high fantasy and horror books.

“Why there isn’t any about finances or technology?” he commented, fingers brushing the books’ spines.

“Because here, I’m on vacation.”

"That's very convenient." You sat at the edge of the bed, patting the place next to you. Viktor grumbled when he got to his seat, legs extended in front of him. “I suppose I can read one of those while we wait for dinner, yes? Or do you want to do something else?”

Your eyes fixated on his leg brace came shoot to his face, feeling hot cheeks, your pulse raging in your ears. “W-what? Like what?”

He shrugged, and you noticed he didn’t want to tease you. “Are you alright? You look… eh, flust—”

“Yes! I’m going to take a shower, actually.” You jumped out of bed, getting to the only other woody door next to the vanity, contrary direction to the entrance.

“Aren’t you going to take clothes with you?" he interrupted your grasp on the handle, fingers frozen over the shining metal.

With your back towards him, he didn't see your grimace, closed eyes, and crinkled nose. I’m afraid you’re too dumb today.

Turning, your smile was forced. “…yes?”

He blinked. You both blinked for some heartbeats before you began to laugh. Viktor followed you, first shyly, but then you both were cackling so hard your belly hurt.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to see you laugh before,” you commented between wheezes as your breath regulated back. “I like it.”

He stopped abruptly, fidgeting with his cane. “Thank you. You look prettier when you laugh, too.”

Face on fire, you dragged your suitcase to the bathroom. Viktor was too occupied taking one of your books from the nightstand and reading its back.

You spent too much time inside, even if it was just sitting on the toilet looking at the floor, towel already hung on the hook, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. The mirror was beginning to clear out from the steam that originated from your shower. It was more than an hour, your thought. You couldn't hear Viktor on the other side, but you felt both childish and stupid to hide inside the bathroom to avoid him. Did you even have a good excuse for it?

It seemed you became extremely nervous with him around. But if you wanted to convince everybody about your charade, it was better to put effort into it. Besides, it was rude to drag Viktor into your mess and then leave him alone.

You opened the bathroom door, scanning the room before your eyes grew used to the dimming light flooding from the window. Viktor was sleeping in the bed, your book opened over his chest, hands cradling it carefully even in his slumber. He almost occupied the whole bed, but it was perhaps for the wing of the coat that was expanded towards the other side, though not even the black vest he was wearing could shield him from the air that moved his hair in constant waves. You wondered how he didn’t tickle with the sensation against his brow.

Smiling at the fetal position he was shifting slowly thanks to the cold air sieging the room, you rummaged inside the suitcase to find one of the spare blankets you packed to cover him with it, light fingers removed the book from his grasp, ignoring the tingling sensation when your fingertips brushed the obverse side of his palm. He hummed approbatory after rolling to one side, giving you his back.

After leaving him take a nap, you scribbled you would be in the library next door, if he needed something. You scanned the room, deciding to put the sticker over the bathroom door.

Your steps were silent when you closed the bedroom door with a soft click. The hallway was empty, but you were high on alert for any near noise now that you couldn’t hear any major noise coming from the first floor. Hands quickly grasped your phone to check the time, windows showing a clear blue sky with an indistinguishable hour. You still had three hours until they could notice you about dinner being served soon.

The library’s handle felt heavy and eerily cold under your touch, and you feared opening it and seeing someone inside. Even more, if you discovered that the house was under new jurisdiction—under aunt Leónie’s, specifically—, who knows what she would do with your books? Maybe nothing against your mother's, but you?

She knew you didn’t like to complain.

Making a fist, you quickly slid the handle down, your shoulder bumping against the hardwood winning a whistle of air running away when the door opened with haste.

Walls over walls filled with shelves welcomed you, multicolor spines, and sizes were aligned to cover almost all the rock they were built upon. The polished linoleum floor with some tapestries near the worktable localized next to the enormous window from roof to floor reflected a hue of sunlight into the ceiling, in the center of the room a set of couches circled a crystal table with a manual lamp over it. On the opposite side of the window, two-floor lamps flanked a long couch, where a person was reclining in.

“Ada." You could recognize your cousin's flowery dresses in the middle of crowds when you two had the luck to encounter at galas, auctions, and charity events. Her heels clicked against any surface like bells.

“I was beginning to question if you would come.” She was on your late mother’s seat, laying on a large couch, looking out the far window with Moby Dick forgotten in her lap.

You didn’t say a thing, too surprised to emit a sound beside closing the door with your back firmly pressed against it. Guilt and shame both bathe you as Ada checked you from head to toe.

“What do you need?” No, apologize first. “Ada, I—”

She fluttered her hand dismissively, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “I don’t want your pity. Not yours among all the others.” Ada stood up, her light dress moving with each elegant stride. “Though I would have wished you did something about it. But it’s all in the past, dear. No bitterness.”

You felt your jaw stiffen, the pressure making creak your teeth. “I couldn’t risk my enterprise. I’m sorry.”

She smiled barely. “Yes, I imagine you would say so. Many others said the same."

Anger bubbled inside of you. You didn’t want to be compared with the rest. You didn’t have any ties around the Daxer family besides the adoption papers tucked inside the notary’s coffer somewhere in his office.

“Do you blame me for having priorities?”

“You’re rather selfish, beloved cousin. But I imagine now you understand the feeling of sensing that everything slides off your tied hands." Ada clicked her tongue, not in an ironic manner, but pitiful. Somehow, it was worse than if she’d mocked you. “I can’t say I wished you to encounter such grim destiny too.”

You pushed yourself towards her, afar from the door in case someone else tried to chase you the same way. You couldn’t risk someone hearing.

“Destiny? Destiny is just a poor excuse for conformism.” Brows knitted in a deep, upset grimace, your voice was low and echoed like in an empty well. “You know better than anyone that only selfish people will keep afloat in the upcoming storm.”

Her eyes were a cold blue, the shade of blue that was mixed with some rainy clouds, when the wind howls and the ambient buzzes with energy. "I know you couldn't do anything about it. But I’m here now trying to decipher what you are planning now."

Silence enveloped the room when you kept your lips sealed. Ada saw the wall created in your eyes and sighed.

“I want to invite you to my wedding,” she added, taking the target adorned with a little copperish ribbon from the couch. She extended the paper towards you, but when you took it, she didn’t withdraw her hands, leaving them weight over yours with a meaningful, silent look.

“Congrats,” you said after peeking over the name of her fiancé. You recognized the last name; she could see it right away.

“I wish you had invited me to your wedding, though.”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t a big event.” It hasn’t been an event, at all. But you weren't saying that. "I didn't invite anyone from the family, if that makes you feel better."

“You know?” she commented, falling unladylike into the couch, wood complaining over the sudden weight. “I wish my dad could have seen me on the big day, with my wedding dress and the expensive hairstyle, as I told you sometimes. He would have been so happy.”

"Are you happy, then?" you asked because you needed to know.

She didn’t answer, simply shrugging. “With him, I can keep myself afloat in this stormy sea.” Sending back your words make you feel cold in the stomach, too heavy that it seemed, the room was shaking. “It’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

I guess so, you wanted to say. But the words didn’t come out. “I wish it were not.”

There was a knock on the door that make you share a look, but with no movement inside the room until seconds later, Viktor murmured that dinner was about to be served in half an hour.

“I will be going,” you said to Ada, tucking the invitation inside your sweater. “I’ll see you soon.” The invitation was strangely heavy against your chest.

Ada gestured towards the door, still laying nonchalantly on the couch. “I hope so, you know where to find me.”

When you entered the room, Viktor was already showered and changed into another version of his usual, formal attire. He was dressed in almost all white, coat, pants, and vest; except for the black shirt and shoes, and the red tie. You had to stop for a moment, your brain too slow to catch what it was observing.

“You’re begging to be teased with that outfit. You are aware of that, right?” You looked, entranced, while he buttoned his sleeves in front of the mirror next to the bed. “You look like—like…” Argh, you couldn’t even say it out loud. You look like a groom.

It seemed your eyes could said just clear enough for him to catch on.

“Yes, eh, I guessed I have to dress the… part.” He looked at you with shining eyes, as if asking something.

You stood there, pondering your chances. “I… I think I packed up something white, too.”

As soon as you went downstairs, your arm locked in Viktor’s, you knew it was going to be a torturous, slow evening. You were mocking them, and oh, both your aunt Leónie and Mathieu looked as if they wanted to crucify you to the wall with their forks. The table got around thirty spaces, between spouses, the Daxer’s extended family of your two uncles and three aunts, and their children. Most of the looks were ironic or amused, fleeting glances over their glasses of liquor, some whispers over thunderous cutlery.

Sadly, you were right in front of Mathieu, and aunt Leónie in front of Viktor. Though, if he was nervous, he disguised it just fine. Taking little sips of the mushroom creamy soup in silence, his eyes wandered over the Daxer’s family from time to time. His only nervous tick was reaching for the cane from time to time where it was leaned against your chair as if someone would snatch it.

“So, what is the reason behind the such… peculiar outfit, dear?" aunt Leónie said between pieces of salmon fillet.

“We dressed like this by pure luck,” you retorted, rotating your fork absently. “I guess we’re true soulmates.” Giggling, you leaned into Viktor, who snuggled his nose against your hair for a moment. Mathieu was squinting as if he could see something was off just by focusing enough.

Well, he could try.

“Ah, I’m glad you’re so happy, little one,” one of your uncles, Esteban, said. Nodding, you smiled.

“I agree, but it intrigues me." Mathieu drank a sip from his wine, glass swirling lightly. "How was possible it was so unexpected? Were you hiding him from us, perhaps?" he smiled, but the gesture was all bare teeth.

You were chewing when he spoke, perfect timing to sow uncertainty in the guests before you could answer. His arched brows said, maybe you were embarrassed to present him officially. You almost make a fist filled with your napkin.

“Quite the contrary," Viktor said. People were shocked to hear him talk, but of course, you could understand them. His voice was calm and low, with his characteristic accent. Even the edge of contempt was hidden with sharp pronunciation. “I was the one who preferred to keep the relationship hidden, in case it could risk their public image.”

“And why would that happen, if I may ask?” Leónie said, eyes shining.

“I wasn't born into a wealthy family, nor do I have a remarkable background. If we would unveil our relationship, people would believe I was only taking advantage of their family name.”

Mathieu scoffed lightly. “And how are we sure you aren’t?" Viktor blushed, nose wrinkling and eyebrows deeply furrowed.

“We only get married because he became the co-creator of HexTech," you added, taking his hand under the table, even if the rest couldn’t see it. “He would never do that. Viktor is in his current position all due to his hard work and dedication. He's not comfortable with taking shortcuts nor taking advantage of people, and that’s why I fell in love with him.” You looked between Mathieu and Leónie. And then, you lied. “Only my mother knew about it. She agreed to our relationship and I'm sure she would've liked to consolidate it.” Not that it would stop you if she would've said no.

But if she were still alive, you wouldn’t be pushed to make such a decision in the first place.

The words, not that anyone else had to know, floated in the heavy air.

“I think this is it’s a rather confidential matter, knowing how secretive you are, but may I ask how you two met?” Esteban was, alongside Ada's mother, the only uncle you were close to. He didn’t have any children, though he was married.

You nodded happily, rosy cheeks to finally put into action what you two planned. Lost in the thrill of the moment, you forgot you were still taking Viktor’s hand, so he reassured you by pressing it, telling you silently that he will be the narrator.

Perhaps it was the chandelier sending golden hues over the guests, or the liquor running through your veins, but for a moment it didn’t look like a lie. He was gesturing vividly, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips, eyes shining brighter than any light in the room. You were staring again, but it didn’t matter, he was taking your hand and rubbing circles in your palm with his thumb.

Without noticing, you were smiling, a warm sensation washing over you as he leaned towards you to lay a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” he muttered seconds after, and it was probably too low for them to hear, but you didn’t want to catch that mistake.

Dinner ended on a strangely friendly note, with your uncle Esteban and his spouse, Erika, alongside Ada and her mother, Dárice, dragging Viktor along as they sit in the living room to chat about HexTech's next projects. Others were overhearing, of course, but the more the merrier. They were convinced about both Viktor’s value for the family and, of course, his company.

You remained in the little living room next to the dining hall, connected by a rounded door, the before cozy place used when your mother had visits from her friends—unusual, but always welcomed.

Now it was cold and still, a lonely kettle spewing steam, two teacups untouched. The lonely lamp in the center sent monstrous, distorted shadows of you two.

“Did you want to discuss something with me, aunt?” you said casually, relieved she didn’t tag her son along.

“You chose wrongly.”

You blinked. “What?” But you knew what she was talking about.

“Doesn’t have connections, not power. Sure, he plays the face part quite well, but he’s only a façade. Isn’t it?” Her eyes squinted. “For your supposed rebel phase, now your mother isn’t here to put you in your place.”

Your fingers were circling the cup’s rim, ripples of sound ascending in the silence between your calm breath.

“If my mother would be still here, you wouldn’t even dare to come to this house,” you commented, lifting your shoes from the ground and into the table in the middle of you two. “Not talk like you didn’t plan on doing the same with me. We’re only a piece on your chessboard—but you got upset I didn’t want to play along.”

She scoffed. “What kind of villainess do you think am I, child? I’m only doing the better for my family.”

“Very funny, that I’m finally part of the family. In the most convenient moment.”

Aunt Leónie served another cup of tea, porcelain clicking against the glass loud enough for you to notice.

“He isn’t a businessman. They’re going to eat him alive. You can’t win with him on your side. I don’t know what you were thinking when—”

You arched an eyebrow. “Is the only tactic you have to offend my husband? Because if that’s the game, then I can join you in this one.”

She grimaced, disgusted at your insolent behavior. “Go on, I want to hear you. I’m sure it’s going to be amusing just as your performance in the dining room.”

“I wonder…” you began, hands trailing the armrest of the couch; "how much the media would pay for an exclusive? Yes, about an intrafamilial marriage in the beginning of the XXI century, no less." She wasn't expecting it, her tea spilling down her chin when she tried to drink it. "How far greed can take a person? They would call it, or something like that. The Daxer empire would crumble into dust.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Shrugging, you sunk into the sofa, leather creacking at your back. “But I’m not the only competitor you have.”

Aunt Leónie contemplated your face, unfamiliar and unknown to her as much as hers was for you.

“I want you to know I don’t want to do this, child. But you give me no choice.”

You paused, sitting straight and looking into her eyes. "Do you think my mother adopted me to lower my head and accept any demand coming my way?”

Your aunt sighed, but when she went to serve another cup, the tea was cold already. “You’re just like her.” She pressed the sides of her head, elbow against the armchair. The dark couch and her dark dress made it seem like she was about to be swallowed whole. “I can’t make you understand how lucky you are, how much you could have been changed… Ah, it doesn’t matter. It's like talking to a wall, I'm not even trying this time.”

Lips pressed together, you heard your tongue clicking when you muttered: "You hated her, didn't you?”

She answered with a sour laugh. “How could I not? I loathed them both. I despised her, envied her, even—your mother never knew how lucky she was, being the only one whose life wasn’t decided yet.”

“Because she was a sickly child, and an infertile woman soon after,” you added, lips contorted on a growl. “Grandfather only let her have agency inside Daxer because she couldn't be a profitable alimony. It wasn’t her doing—”

Aunt Leónie collocated the teacup with excessive force over the glass, the sharp thud made you both jump. “She never shared, she forgot about all of us. About me. Even when she swore she wouldn’t… she— she just never answered when I call in her aid, for fear to lose the enterprise. And what about me? What about the possibility of losing me? Your Mother only thought with numbers, everything else was out of her gaze. And then, you,” she called you then, voice cracked with tears trapped, hands grasping the couch with her nails as claws, eyes flaring. “Just when I believed everything was settling down. Daxer was already peaking—but instead of giving any of us a chance, she decided it was better to bring home a stranger and make them her child.”

Your throat closed. The worst presentment became true under the sudden shaky grasp of the teacup. At seeing your silence, Aunt Leónie leaned backward, the past raw feelings withering as quickly as they came, replaced with mere boredom.

“I’m doing this so Mathieu doesn’t have to pass the same hell I lived through with my late husband. That’s why I had chosen you, you were perfect, and now look at what you’ve done.”

You stayed there, perfectly seated. Your jaw was stiffened when you open to drink the only teacup that was served for you; the bitter, cold liquid traveling down your dry throat without making you flinch.

“I only did what you would have done in my place if you’d had the opportunity.” You stood up suddenly, ignoring the sore pain in your muscles and your aunt's little jump. While leaving the teacup on the table, you put your hands in the glass, staining it with your fingertips, leaning towards her. “Now you have become the one you hated, doing the same thing he did to you.” Eyes squinted and lips curled in a silent, sickening grimace. “So stop lecturing me, you aren’t any better than those in the past.”

You went towards the door, already open and your body on the threshold when Aunt Leónie called your name with a sharp edge in her strained voice, gritted teeth that shone in the dimming light of the room like the one of a wild animal. “I tried to end this nonsense, but I see you aren’t willing to let go.”

“Then bring it on,” you answered, voice muffled and directed towards the empty dining room. “I’m ready.”

When you cross the dining hall, opening slowly the ajar doors, you found barely any people lounging on the stools near the little bar your mom set up next wall to the dinette. When checking your telephone, you read on the screen almost 10 PM, late enough for the rest of the family to withdraw into their bedrooms now they got Viktor all for themselves for a couple of hours.

The heels of your shoes clicked noisily into the quiet living room while you were striding to cross it, aiming at the stairs. But you had to stop when you saw him sitting on the bottom steps, lazy fingers playing with his cane’s handle while his gaze was directed towards the ground.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes darted towards you when he heard your voice echoing into the space. It was clear he was waiting for you, but you weren't sure why.

“I thought, eh, perhaps you would need my support.” Stopping, you smiled at him with a slight nod, a warm sensation covering you like a blanket.

“Thank you, but do not worry, I’m alright.” Extending your arm, you tilted your chin so he could take the cue and use it to propel himself up, hands taking into the rail. “Aren’t you cold? Let’s go.”

As you took his hand, your mind began to wander into the twisted hallways of the past. You didn’t pay attention to the way, Viktor gently pulled your arm in the right direction after climbing the stairs in complete silence.

The house always seemed too big, too lonely. But now the walls were closing up to you, whispering stranger, stranger, stranger, with each step near the bedroom. Aunt Leónie may hate you as much as she did to her sister, but you knew her words were rooted into verity. You always understood your place as a pawn inside your mother's will.

She didn’t adopt a child, but an heir.

If I can’t do that, then I’m useless.

The first thing you did when entering the room was change into your pajamas in the bathroom while Viktor did the same at the other side of the door. When you get out, he had already unmade the bed, taking off his slippers while sitting on his designated side, two blankets over it.

You stood there on the threshold, staring lost in the edge of the mirror, your figure half focused on the surface. Half erased.

If I’m not my mother’s rightful heir, then who am I?

Viktor’s touch was gentle and light, barely a brush against your fingers. Despite it, you jumped, eyes widened and your heart fluttering.

“What?” You didn’t want to sound too harsh. “I mean, I’m sorry. Do you need something?”

He looked at you carefully, head slightly turned, and brows almost imperceptibly furrowed.

Almost.

“Are you… analyzing me?”

He half-shrugged, sliding inside the covers when he was sure to have your attention. “You seem… distracted, I may say. Are you alright?” Viktor patted the other side of the bed, opening the covers for you. “You can talk to me about it, if you wish, of course.”

“I… don’t really know what to say.” You walked to the contrary side of the bed, Viktor withdrawing his legs for a moment to letting you pass. The wall was cold when you leaned against it.

“In that case, you can always start with what's upsetting you."

You took a deep breath. "Do you think I can do it?” you muttered, cheek pressed against your knees. You felt like a child, but strangely didn't mind Viktor could see you like this. "What if… I'm just dragging you into this mess I've created, for nothing?”

Viktor shifted closer to you, offering you a pillow for your back. You shook your head, and he interlaced his fingers over it, then.

“I don’t mind,” he commented. “But I do believe in your capacity and resilience.”

You smiled barely. “Are you calling me stubborn?”

“—Which isn’t a bad quality in the right situations.”

The room was cold, and you were shivering under your pajamas, so you slid inside the covers, head against the pillow, eyes locking at the ceiling. A sigh enveloped the still silence of the room only interrupted by the brushing of blankets when Viktor covered himself with them, copying your position.

“I enjoyed the reunion.”

“More than you imagined you would?”

"No. I truly enjoyed it." Your fingers touched the irregular surface over the headboard, the lights turning off under your fingertips, but the translucid curtains allowed the blueish-gray hue of the night to filter over the room, the white ceiling looked far away. “Thank you.”

“What for?” Even if he couldn’t see you, your brows were knitted together with curiosity.

It took him so long to answer, you believed he was already asleep. His voice floating into the quiet room sends shivers down your spine.

“For choosing me.”

You didn’t answer, thinking the frenetic rhythm of your heart could be heard all around the place.

“Do you remember what I tell you the first time we met?”

Pondering for a moment, you rolled to your side to watch his profile half illuminated by the moonlight. “That I’m Cinderella?”

He chuckled slightly. “I see now your attention span.” His eyes were bright even at night, two drops of molten gold piercing from his peripheral vision in the darkness. “That your mother is proud of you.”

You swallowed, sore pain in your chest expanding as if a pair of hands were pressing your ribcage.

“I still abide by those words,” Viktor could only sleep from one side because of his leg, so it shouldn’t have surprised you as much when he rolled to meet your eyes directly. “I still believe in you, even if you don’t. When have you listened to what your family had to say? I’m asking you not to do it today. Trust me, will you?”

You looked at him without blinking, tears pilling into your eyes, spilling over your cheeks with muffled whimpers.

“I don’t want to disappoint her, Viktor.” It was like opening the one door in the back of your mind, pressure-based closing. You didn’t want to wail like a child, it was too many years ago when you cried like that, when you still didn't have a last name. But you couldn't stop it, you tried to cover your face with your hands, head buried against the covers to muffle the sound—you were still thinking about who may hear you, who will judge you.

“Come here,” he muttered, slowly reaching out to you. Your head laid against his chest, and at that moment, you recognized the same quick drumming on your ear. He patted your back carefully, chin rested atop your head. Sobs made you tremble, but he didn’t mind.

"If I lose everything I have, who will I be?" you muttered against his shirt which was getting damper with each moment.

“You’ll still be you.” He kissed the top of your head, nose snuggling against your hair. “And if you want, I will be there to remind you.”

You had to observe him, so close like last time. Your heart made a cartwheel, you could remember that moment quite well. Both in the bathroom at his apartment and in the lookout point at the restaurant. It was like that occasion, with the cold air hitting your back, some locks of your hair moving against your cheek.

Only this time, nobody was there to see.

“Will you?” your voice sounded little and irregular, and you could imagine how disastrous you looked, with puffy eyes, cheeks stained with tears, and swollen lips. But he was gazing so lovingly you couldn’t stop the flushing sensation crawling at your face, curling your toes.

Viktor hummed affirmatively, his eyes darkening when his eyelashes framed them. He was looking at your lips. And you wondered, would he, too, be remembering that one time?

“Viktor,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, lips almost closed. “Can you hold me like this a little longer?”

“Of course. As long as you want me to.”

You fell asleep with the sound of his heart lulling your own without another word.

22 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

My Name Isn't

Summary: You find out the guys (Bucky, Steve, and Sam) have a bet as to who can kiss you first, so you confront them at Tony's team building karaoke night.

Warnings: some swearing and drinking

Word Count: 3187

a/n: This was inspired by my love of the classic using karaoke to express your feelings trope and the song My Name Isn't by LOVA. I did change the lyric "yours" into "doll" though because it made sense in the story.

"Not a chance, Wilson." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve walked into the room, unbothered by the familiar sounds of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes arguing.

"C'mon tin man, you afraid you're gonna lose?' Sam couldn't help but tease the super soldier.

"It's a stupid bet! Steve tell him it's a stupid bet." Bucky stared at his best friend, silently begging for him to agree.

Steve's tone could only be described as exasperated when he responded, "what is it this time?"

"I bet Barnes and Noble over here," Sam stopped talking to dodge the book Bucky threw at him, "that I could get Y/N to kiss me before he could, and he's too chicken shit to take the bet."

"It's a stupid bet!" Bucky was gearing up to throw another book when Steve chimed in. "I don't know Buck, it could get you to finally act on your feelings for her."

Bucky rolled his eyes, responding with his typical denial "I don't have any feelings, punk."

Sam and Steve shared an obvious "this man is lying" look before turning back to Bucky.

"Fine, Cap since Bucky won't take the bet, will you?" The mischievous gleam in Sam's eye shown through as Steve weighed his options.

"It is a pretty stupid bet, but I'm doing this for you Buck." Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, he turned to Sam. "I'm in." As Steve went to shake Sam's hand, Bucky gave in.

"Fine! Fine. All three of us. The first one to kiss her wins." Bucky reluctantly agreed.

"Now, what does the winner get?" Sam posed the question, mischief clear in his eyes.

The first time you had an inkling that something was afoot was your training with Steve and Bucky later that same day. Steve wasn't overly touchy or anything that would make you uncomfortable, this is America's Golden Boy after all, but he kept calling you "honey" or some variation of it. You'd throw a punch and rather than correcting your form in his usual commanding Captain voice, he would feed you a random compliment followed by a "try it like this hun."

You left the gym confused and with more energy than one would typically have after training with Steve Rogers. Luckily for you, Nat and Wanda noticed it too.

"What was that about?" Wanda asked as soon as the three of you were out of earshot.

"I don't have a clue." Your expression of complete confusion was enough to convince the two women you were telling the truth.

"I always thought Barnes had a thing for you. I wouldn't expect Steve of all people to try to mess that up. Especially with how obvious you are!" Nat chimed in. You've never regretted anything more than getting drunk and admitting your feelings for the brunette super soldier to the two women.

"Ugh, are the two of you ever gonna forget about that?" Your question was rhetorical as you nearly slammed the door to your room, but it didn't stop the two women from shouting "not a chance" and "only if you tell him" through the door.

The second time you noticed the weird behavior was the next day. You were running through some basic defense moves with some new Shield agents when Sam walked in with Bucky.

Now, normally Sam avoids you in the gym because he knows you'll kick his ass. All your time spent training with Nat mixed with your advanced perception skills meant you are a force to be reckoned with in the gym. This time though, he asked to spar before running through his typical warm up routine.

"You sure, Wilson? I wouldn't want to bruise your ego any further." You joked with him, unsure of his motives.

"Oh I'm sure, baby. Do your worst."

So you did. You had him on the mat in 4 minutes even, not letting the "baby" comment phase you until later in the night when you were with Wanda and Nat.

"First, Steve keeps calling me honey. Now Wilson is in on it with baby! What the hell is going on?'

The three of you shared identical shrugs, choosing to ignore it for now in favor of girls night.

Your days continued with the random comments from Sam and Steve. Of course, after the first 24 hours you noticed a pattern emerging. The two men would only use the pet names if Bucky was in the room. If Bucky couldn't overhear what was being said, everything was normal, but all bets were off if he so much as stepped in the room. It was constant affection and compliments from the two men.

You were thinking about the pattern you'd discovered, along with what it could mean, when Tony barged into the common room like a man on fire.

He surveyed the room, noting the presence of nearly every team member. The only three missing? Sam, Steve, and Bucky. You had a feeling they were most definitely up to something. "Oh perfect, most of you are here already! I have decided we don't do enough team building. Saving the world is stressful and we deserve to relax, so... drumroll please!" He waited for an extended period of time, until you, Wanda, and Vision gave him a lackluster drumroll. "That could use some work, but I'm not going to let it bring me down. We're doing karaoke! I rented out a bar for tonight, so clear your schedules ladies and gentlemen! We start at 8."

To say he was met with mixed results would be underselling the range of reactions. Nat looked ready to kill him. Thor was so excited, he reminded you of a golden retriever playing fetch. Most everybody else fell somewhere in the middle.

"Y/N, be a dear and let the three stooges know would ya? I don't know where they are and I don't feel like finding them." Tony didn't wait for a response before leaving the room just as rapidly as he entered it.

"I guess that's my cue. I'll be back and we can at least get ready together?" You looked to Nat and Wanda for confirmation before leaving to find Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

You checked Sam's room first because it's the closest to the common area, but there was no sign of life. Steve and Bucky's rooms sat similarly untouched. You went to the gym, the pool, the game room, and circled back to the kitchen but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, you gave up the impromptu game of hide and seek asking FRIDAY where they were.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Steve, Bucky, and Sam are?"

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Lieutenant General Wilson are on the roof." The AI responded so fast, it had you wondering why didn't just ask her 40 minutes ago when their rooms were all empty.

"What the hell are they doing on the roof?" You huffed as you made your way back to the elevator.

"They are the discussing the terms of their bet." FRIDAY's response surprised you. You hadn't meant to actually receive an answer, but now that you did you were curious.

"What bet?" You continued the line of questioning as the elevator rose to the roof access point.

"The three made a bet to see who could get you to kiss them first."

Suddenly, all the pet names and compliments made sense.

"Son of a bi-" You cut yourself off as the elevator door opened, leading you directly to the three men in question. They turned abruptly, clearly caught off guard by anyone coming to the roof.

"Finally. I've been looking for you three everywhere!" You kept the new found information to yourself for the time being. "Tony decided we're doing karaoke tonight. We're supposed to be at the bar he rented out by 8pm." You smiled, taking in the slightly guilty expressions on each of their faces. Even if FRIDAY hadn't told you, it would be painstakingly obvious you caught them talking about you.

"Thanks doll, we'll make sure we're there." You felt the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, but quickly shut it down. You wouldn't be giving in to their bet that easily.

"No problem, see you boys soon." You winked, pressing the button to bring you back to the main floor. You had a plan to make after all.

"Well, it's karaoke why don't you just sing a song to call them out on it?" Wanda suggested another idea as you all got ready to head to the bar.

"That could work. You just need the perfect song." Nat chimed in, quickly applying some mascara.

"Wanda, you're a genius, and I think I have just the one." You grinned, pulling the song up to play while you finished getting ready.

Upon entering the bar, you immediately started second guessing your plan. That is, until the pet names came out to play. Sam was back at it with calling you baby, and Steve right there beside him with honey.

When you put your name down to sing, Wanda and Nat were right there with you, hyping you up and providing some liquid courage. Four drinks in and you finally felt just tipsy enough to actually follow through with your plan.

With the encouraging words from Nat and Wanda playing through your mind, you walked up to the stage, pulling up your chosen song on the karaoke machine.

You decided to play the beginning of the song off as a coincidence, not wanting to clue the guys in too early.

"One, two, three have been staring at me. It's been going all night."

You made eye contact with Nat and Wanda, fully relying on the feminist in you to knock these guys down a few pegs. By the time the chorus rolled around, you were ready.

Making direct eye contact with Sam, you put as much sass as possible into the next line.

"My name isn't 'baby,' you cannot say whatever you feel like. I am not the things you call me."

Switching your target from Sam to Steve, you kept going with the performance.

"My name isn't 'honey,' I will always do whatever I feel like. Honestly, you don't know me."

Clearly the three of them realized you knew about their bet, but you were on a roll. Switching focus to Bucky, you switched up the words a little bit to put him on blast as well.

"My name isn't... doll. My name isn't... doll."

The girls must have filled in the rest of the group, because you now had Bruce, Thor, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Wanda, and Nat cheering you on. They were whopping and hollering in agreement with the lyrics.

"We ain't got the time for you messing around so cut the deal."

"Cut the deal!!" You heard Tony yelling out as an echo, shaking your head with a slight chuckle.

"So don't come here and say, 'boys will be boys.' Behind every act there's always a choice."

The three men in question at least had the decency to look ashamed of their actions. Of course, that wasn't enough for you to not put them on blast through another round of the chorus.

The high from calling them out wore off right around the line:

"Do you really think that you can get your way by playing the same game."

Singing those words made you realize exactly what just happened. You held it together, put up a front long enough to get through the last chorus. Singing the last line to Bucky, you felt like your emotions were all over your face. The annoyance that the bet existed. The pain at him being part of it. The love you'd been trying to hide. All of it felt like it was right out in the open.

"My name isn't... Doll. My name isn't, my name isn't... Doll."

You took a quick bow in thanks for all the applause, before running off the stage. You didn't stop at the table with Nat and Wanda, nor did you stop for the three men trying to apologize. You made it outside, running about five blocks before even taking in your surroundings. Noticing a McDonald's, you sent a quick prayer that the ice cream machine was actually functioning before ducking inside.

The team stood with mouths hanging open at your sudden departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Tony posed the question to the group, knocking them out of their stupor.

Bucky was the first to follow you outside, his panic growing when he didn't see you leaning against any of the brick walls.

"Where is she?" Steve asked, spinning in circles right alongside Bucky while the rest of the group filed out the door.

"I don't know!" Bucky turned on Steve and Sam. "I never should have agreed to that stupid bet. Dammit!" Running his hands through his hair, he took off down the street calling a quick, "I'll look this way" over his shoulder.

He moved quickly down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for your sparkly, dark red dress. He looked through the windows of the many store fronts as he passed them. About five blocks later, he was about to turn around, assuming you went a different direction when he saw the familiar golden "m". A memory from about three weeks ago was quick to flash through his mind.

The team just came back from a two and a half week mission yesterday, meaning Tony was bound to throw a party today. It went about the same as most Tony Stark parties go; a lot of schmoozing until most guests left and the team could actually let loose.

You let a little looser than normal at the after party. After the mission required you to pretend to be married to Bucky, you felt like you deserved it. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings from him, especially when he insisted on walking you to your room after the party.

In a last ditch effort to avoid any drunk escapades, you asked him to take you to McDonald's instead of your room.

"Please Bucky?" You asked, drawing out the words and adding a small pout for good measure. "I just want a McFlurry and some fries! Please!"

"Sure, doll. We can go to McDonald's." You jumped up and down clapping, hugging him as you praised him for being so kind.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the nicest, most perfect man to ever live. Let's gooooo!!" He smiled at your antics, leading you to one of the many cars Tony kept stocked, not quite trusting you to ride a motorcycle at the moment.

After getting the food, the two of you ate together in the car. You, of course, insisting he try dipping the fries in the ice cream.

Reluctantly, he admitted it wasn't that bad before driving the two of you home. He dropped you off at your door, receiving a whispered "thank you" and a quick kiss to the cheek from you.

He smiled at the memory before walking inside. He found you in a booth toward the back, unsurprisingly dipping fries into your ice cream

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." You didn't even look up when he started speaking, choosing instead to study the m&ms in your dessert. "Really. It was a stupid bet. Hell, I didn't even want to do it, but then that punk and birdman teamed up against me and I couldn't let them do it without me! It would've killed me to know one of them kissed you. It was so stupid and I should've just shut it down. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than that." He trailed off, waiting for you to say something.

You gestured to the seat across from you, pushing some fries toward him. "It was a stupid bet."

You waited until his mouth was full before asking "Why would it have killed you?" Watching him nearly choke on his fries was oddly satisfying.

"What?" He tried to deflect the question. You shook your head, passing him a napkin.

"You said it would have killed you to know one of them kissed me. Why?" You looked him in the eye as you ate another fry.

"Well, you see, I... um, maybe have um... feelings." It was his turn to stare intently at the m&ms. He mumbled a quick "get yourself together" under his breath before continuing. "I like you. Hell, I think I love you. I don't know when it started, but suddenly you are all I can think about. I worry about you constantly when your on a mission without me, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I see little things that remind me of you everywhere. Like yesterday, I saw a buttercup on the side of the road and I couldn't stop thinking about the time you spent a good twenty minutes ranting about how spring is the worst season."

Suddenly, you were on a tangent. "Because it is! It's always raining, it's muggy, it's always freezing in the morning and way too hot in the afternoon so you have to carry all these extra layers-"

"I love you. That's why it would've killed me. I don't even want to think about you with another-"

It was your turn to cut him off, doing so by leaning across the small table to kiss him. It was quick, but you still felt fireworks.

"I love you too." Your words were sweet, but shifted when you said the rest of your sentence. "I just have one more question." The smirk on your face made him nervous, but he was more than willing to answer anything.

"What do you get for winning?"

After talking with Bucky, you texted Nat and Wanda to let them know you were okay and the two of you were headed back to the compound. You beat everyone else back, but decided to wait for them in the common area.

Steve and Sam came in with their heads low, struggling to make eye contact.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. We never should have made that bet." Steve started, aware of all the eyes on him.

"Me too. It was stupid and thoughtless." Sam added on.

"It was, but you are forgiven." You reached for Bucky's hand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Bucky told me the winner of your little bet gets to pick the music for all forms of travel on the next three missions." You grinned at their confused expressions. "Bucky, being the winner, has so graciously bestowed that gift to me now. Get ready boys. I'm talking High School Musical. Hamilton. I'll have the two of you singing Taylor Swift in the shower." You, along with the rest of the team, laughed at their expense. Their grim expressions had you smiling, "oh please, I know you secretly love it!"

"Now, I have to go to bed. I have a date tomorrow." You winked at Bucky before sauntering off down the hall, the cheers of your teammates following you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #marvel

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sco07ut · 2 years ago

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hi i’m a useless lesbian can we talk about how insane this song is for south?????

lyrics analysis under the cut (it’s a little messy & completely unread bc i wrote this in one sitting quite late at night but i refuse to apologise for it)

“i’ve been watching him for my entire life, i hate the air he breathes” - twins since birth (obviously????) & always feeling like she’s not doing as well as him

“his foolish decrees, his words so contrived” - getting annoyed at him for fucking up the stealth mission (distracting her by being so insistent about the motion trackers that she didn’t notice coffee guy)

“and i hate the way the townspeople gather outside, they hang on every breath, cling to his chest, home to his heart full of pride” - the other agents valuing north more than south

“the oracle told me to beware the ides” - slightly self indulgent but ct trying to drop hints abt the inner workings of pfl

“and i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t wishing for untimely death or demise” - alluding to her getting him killed by the meta

“or am i just wishing that i could be like you? that the people would see me too as a poet, and not just the muse” - once again reflecting them constantly being compared and south wanting to be treat the same way as north (positively, warmly, etc) - wanting to prove that she’s just as capable as him

“oh it’s not true, i don’t wish harm upon you” - moments of slightly more clarity, their bond as siblings runs deeper than her jealousy- as seen when she’s defending him/working with him during the stealth mission

“from birth we’ve been like brothers of different mothers within the spirit of the same womb” - obviously the song here is referring to brutus and caesar being such close friends that they feel like brothers but since north and south actually are siblings it could be seen as the opposite way- that south never felt as much of a sibling-ly bond as north did

“may the gods strike me down if i ever forsake you. frater meus, you’re beautifully made and to you i’m forever grateful” - highlighting her unstable mental state by constantly bouncing between feelings of anger and protection towards her brother. she cares about him, and appreciates that he’s a good person

“i’ll never forget that you showed me to make art” - another self indulgent bit but north enlisting first and showing south how to handle guns n shit & the art of war

“and i know the love you showed me came from a pure and noble heart” - possibly contrasting her own love for him which came from a selfish/jealous place? more façade-like? also highlights north as a ‘good/better’ person again

“i love you, and if you want, i’ll call you king” - i’m honestly not so sure abt this one . maybe her coming to terms with the fact that he’s higher on the leaderboard?

“but why do i lie awake each night thinking, instead of you, it should be me?” - her desperation for an ai/ jealousy that north got theta instead of her . also in a broader scope, wishing she was the well-respected, ‘better’ twin

“something wicked this way comes” - literally everything abt project freelancer

“and as i set to face it, i’m unsure, should i embrace it, should i run?” - south debating her loyalties, whether they lie with the project itself (due to the lies they told abt tex & the meta) or her brother and the rest of the resistance

“what motivates me? hatred? is it love?” - potentially her decision could be attributed to either of two things: joining the resistance out of love for her brother, or intentionally fighting against them bc of the somewhat overpowering hatred she feels towards him . also her beginning to lose sight of the boundary between those two things

“what’s more wrong, that i too wish to be great? or that my mother wished she’d had a son?” - due to her constant belittling she begins to feel like maybe she doesn’t deserve the same happiness north receives, perpetuated by a (yet another hc warning) mother that perhaps never wanted twins

“and even if i can’t be the one, maybe i can at least make way for him until the day that he comes” - another spiral in which she can’t determine whether she loves or hates him, considering maybe just stepping aside and letting things play out w/ her never getting an ai . maybe trying to make peace w things?

“maybe my name could also be known, that i helped return good to the people, and restored greatness to rome” - her just about coming to terms with the fact that she’s still part of the project, and even if she isn’t the very best agent she can still play a large part in ending the war for good, things almost seem fine until—

“brutus, brutus, brutus” - if this was an animatic, the chanting of brutus would be the point in which project freelancer falls apart, she fights north when he lets tex go by, and then the meta becoming a huge issue & south becoming one of the recovery agents

any semblance of acceptance & respect towards north is shattered & all the progress she was making is lost after the fallout of pfl

“my name is brutus and my name means ‘heavy’, so with a heavy heart i’ll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy” - in her twisted state of mind, she’s warped her perspective into north being her enemy & the source of her misfortune and unhappiness. she pushes aside the fact that they’re family and targets him, sacrificing him to the meta

“my whole life you were a teacher and friend to me” - acknowledging that he’s always been there for her despite it all & always been kind

“please know my actions are not motivated only by envy, i too have a destiny!” - trying to once again warp things to fit her narrative, preserving the ai at all costs was her sole mission from command, if that has to be at the expense of her brother’s life then so be it. even though her actions are being motivated by envy, she’s trying to deny it. she believes that command will regard her highly for her intuitive plan & may reward her (her destiny- being ‘better’ than north)

“this death will be art, people will speak of this day from near and afar” - remember the ‘you taught me to make art’ line? north teaching her how to deal w/ guns and kill people? yeah she’s turning that against him (as she should)

“this event will be history, and i’ll be great too” - again, she’s just obsessed with trying to upstage him and be better, her jealousy is taking over her life

“i don’t want what you had, i wanna be you” - this one . this line . god it takes the cake, it drives the bullet home LORD . at this point she doesn’t even care about taking theta away, she’s just had such a miserable life that she wishes she was her brother . south is such a tragic character i am Not okay

& then there’s a small beat before the next part, if it was an animatic it this is where it would skip to the aftermath of his death when she’s talking with wash

“i always knew i could be the one” - one of the recovery agents, finally getting the spotlight over north

“though i feel the endless pain of being and i am scorched by the sun” - regretting killing him, her line about hating being compared constantly but not knowing what to do without him

“of humble origins and born of the cursed sex” - again, reflecting that she wishes she was her brother & briefly reminding us that she wasn’t always this way

“my name is brutus, but the people will call me rex” - ‘my name is [whatever ur hc for her name is] but the people will call be south. all she’s ever wanted is individuality but she’s been part of a matching set til the day she died

.okay

i’m hurting . ik some of this was kinda stretched and a little incongruent but the main theme is south flip-flopping between hatred and admiration of north, wishing she was something more than she is

i’m not proof reading this bc it’s late and im tired but i heard brutus for the first time in a while and had a mf epiphany

#rvb #rvb south #rvb south dakota #rvb north #rvb north dakota #btw i feel like i should mention that i’m a south apologist #i love that woman #she did nothing wrong #this is not south hate

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kookiesjoonies · 5 years ago

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first & last | jjk.

↠ main pairing: best friend!jungkook x virgin!reader

↠ fic type: one shot, friends to lovers

↠ genre: smut

↠ word count: 4.2k

↠ warnings: alcohol consumption (they aren’t drunk, just a lil tipsy), explicit language, dry humping, finger sucking, light dirty talk, hand job, cum play

↠ summary: during a game of never have i ever, jungkook finds out that you haven’t had your first kiss yet and decides to show you how it’s done.

a/n: eeeeep! i’m so happy to finally have smth up for jk again bc it’s been awhile n we all know i’m whipped for this man. enjoy! feedback is always appreciated. xo

Drunken sleepovers with your best friend were your favorite. You were lying on the floor of Jungkook’s living room, the world’s thinnest blanket underneath you to act as a barrier between your back and the hard surface of the floor.

He laid to your left, nursing a bottle of cheap beer while you sipped red wine from your glass. When the two of you were buzzed, the urge to play drinking games always hit hard. You were thankful he seemed to enjoy them as much as you did, because you were always able to be your genuine, goofy self around him without fear of being judged.

Tonight’s game of choice was never have I ever— a classic, one that you wish you’d played more. Hearing all of Jungkook’s embarrassing tales always made you laugh to the point of tears, big belly laughs that caused you to wheeze.

“Alright, alright. I’ve got one,” he spoke up, causing you to tilt your head to look over at him, “never have I ever told someone they were a good kisser and didn’t mean it.”

You watched as your friend brought the bottle up to his lips and took a swig, insinuating that he had, in fact, done just that.

When you didn’t drink from your wine glass, his eyebrow cocked and he stared down at you in disbelief.

“Come on, Y/n. Sure you have!”

You shrugged, giving him a quick shake of your head.

“Nope.” Your answer was simple— too simple, which left Jungkook even more intrigued than he was to begin with.

He didn’t believe you, not by a long shot. But he should’ve. Seeing as how you’d never even kissed anyone, let alone lied about whether they were a good kisser.

Being in your twenties and having never been on a real date, or held anyone’s hand (other than your friends’, but of course, that was different), or had your first kiss wasn’t exactly the coolest thing.

You’d wanted to experience such things, but no one that had come into your life so far had been worthy enough.

Except for one person— the man that was currently staring at you with his round, beautiful doe eyes. You wanted to kick your own ass for thinking of Jungkook in such a way. He was your best friend, nothing more. And you weren’t about to ruin all of that and everything that the two of you had because of your feelings.

“So, what? Everyone that you’ve ever kissed has been exceptional?” His tone let you know that he thought you were full of shit.

“Kind of have to be kissed in order to confirm or deny that.” You mumbled, voice barely even audible.

The wine was making you brave, it seemed. You weren’t drunk enough to not realize what you’d said, but you weren’t sober enough to care.

Jungkook noticeably choked on his beer he’d been drinking, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe at the liquid gathering on the corners of his mouth.

“What did you just say?”

You sighed, sitting up and leaning your back to rest against the bottom of the sofa behind you.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Kook.”

“Uhm, yeah it is!” He exclaimed, and your eyes rolled in response.

“No, it isn’t.” You snapped back, wishing the conversation was done and over with already.

“Can I ask why you’ve never been kissed? I mean— has the opportunity never presented itself, or have you just been waiting for the right person or something?”

He wasn’t going to let it go, it seemed. So, you twirled around the red liquid in your cup, staring down at it to avoid eye contact with your best friend. Though, you could feel his chocolate eyes burning into you, and you were sure if you glanced over at him he’d be staring at you with wide eyes.

“I’ve had a few opportunities, but I just… I don’t know? I don’t want just anyone to kiss me. I want it to mean something, to be from someone special.”

You felt your cheeks begin to heat up, and you were internally cursing yourself.

“Plus,” you said, after a few seconds of awkward silence had passed, “I don’t even know how to kiss, so, I’ve always been nervous.”

Without skipping a beat, Jungkook’s voice was filling your ears again.

“I’ll teach you.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and you were sure the shock was apparent all over your features. Jungkook, however, seemed oddly calm.

“Uhm, thank you? But we’re best friends, it could make things weird—“

He cut you off with a shake of his head, “Nope, our friendship is solid. A little kiss isn’t going to ruin it.”

You worried at your lower lip, pondering the thought and weighing out the pros and cons.

You’d always dreamed about what his lips would feel like against yours, you were sure he’d be a skilled kisser. The thought of his hands being in your hair while your mouths moved together in heated passion, or better yet, his hands on your ass— yeah, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Or maybe it was the worst idea. Either way, you were about to find out.

“Okay.” You nodded, setting your nearly empty glass to the side.

“Really?” His eyes widened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.

“Yeah, but I’d hurry before I change my mind.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He’d been hoping and praying that one day this day would come, and now that it finally had, he was determined to give you the best damn kiss of your life.

And it made it even better knowing that he was going to be the first person to ever touch your lips with their own. Maybe he wanted to be the first and the only. No, he definitely wanted to be the first and the only.

“Come here.” He patted his lap, and you quickly caught on.

Maybe straddling your best friend should’ve felt awkward, but this didn’t. This felt… right.

His large hands found their way onto the sides of your face, effectively cupping your cheeks. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and you prayed that he wouldn’t be able to hear how loudly your heart was thumping against your chest.

“Is this okay?” You whispered, referring to the way your arms were resting atop his shoulders.

He nodded, flashing you that gorgeous bunny-like smile of his. Suddenly, you felt a sense of calm. All of your nerves were now replaced with adrenaline and excitement. It was amazing how quickly he was able to calm you down just with one toothy grin.

“Yeah, it’s perfect.” he assured you, rubbing the pads of his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, “just follow my lead, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.” You teased, and he chuckled.

His eyes fell shut, and so did yours. Before you knew it, and before your brain could completely process what was happening, you were kissing Jeon Jungkook.

Fireworks went off all around you, and you could no longer hear the whirring of the AC, or the sound of the television. All you could hear were his lips smacking against yours, and the way his breath hitched as your fingers pulled at the hair at the nape of his neck.

His lips moved slowly, allowing you to get used to the whole process. He was gentle, and you were thankful for that.

You could savor his taste for the rest of your life, you were sure of it. He tasted heavily of beer mixed with the fried rice you’d shared for dinner. Perhaps it wasn’t the best combination, but it was Jungkook, so none of it mattered. You didn’t want to taste anything, or anyone else, for as long as you lived.

His tongue ran along your lower lip, and you didn’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him. His tongue slid easily inside, twisting and curling around yours as he explored every last crevice— memorizing what seemed to get a reaction out of you.

One particular move of his wet muscle against yours had you keening and moaning into his mouth, and you quickly broke the kiss, bringing your hands up and over your mouth.

“Oh, my god! I’m sorry, Kook, I—“

“Sorry for what?” He was out of breath, and his pupils were blown out.

His hair had become slightly disheveled from the way you’d been tugging at it mindlessly, and his mouth was covered in your red lipstick. He’d never looked hotter, and you were suddenly very aware of the arousal pooling in between your thighs.

“For— for making that noise, I’m—“

His fingers pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and his voice was soothing as he spoke.

“Why are you sorry? That was the hottest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

His words shocked you, “But we’re best friends! I shouldn’t be… we shouldn’t be—“

For the third time in a matter of minutes, he was cutting off your rambling.

“Friends don’t kiss like that, Y/n.”

“So, are you saying you don’t… want to be friends anymore?”

You feared his answer, ready to run away in a fit of tears if he confirmed your scariest thoughts. You couldn’t lose him, not like this.

“No, I don’t want to be friends,” your eyes began to well up, but he was quick to stop your tears from flowing with his next words, “I want to be more than that. I want to kiss you all the time, take you out on dates, among other things… whenever you’re ready for that. There’s no pressure here, because even if you don’t want this, I’m not going anywhere.”

There he goes with that damn calming smile again, the one that caused your heart to stop, yet was its very reason for beating all the same.

“I’d like that.” You grinned, shuffling your weight above him slightly to make yourself a bit more comfortable.

When he groaned and tossed his head back, you were sure you’d hurt him. But before you could offer him your string of apologies, his hands were falling to your hips to hold you in place.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “do that again. Please.”

You arched a perfectly filled in brow, “What, this?”

Your hips rolled in a similar way that they’d done before, this time with more aim and purpose. And the man below you was making the most sinful, most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard.

His length was hardening underneath you, and your eyes enlarged at the recollection. This definitely wasn’t doing your already seeping pussy any favors.

“I understand if you don’t want to jump into anything sexual right now,” he breathed, heavy and uneven, “but if you don’t, you’re going to have to get off of me because all I want to do right now is grind into you until you’re cumming in your clothes.”

“How did we go from being best friends an hour ago, to doing this?” You couldn’t stop the giggle that made its way through your lips, your hips pushing down and rolling into his once more— letting him know that you had no intentions of stopping.

“I don’t know— Jesus!,” he bit down on his bottom lip as he tightened his grip on your hips and guided their movements, “but I’m so goddamn glad you’re on top of me right now.”

“Me too.” You were quick to agree, hands bracing on his shoulders to hold yourself up.

Both of you were gasping now, reveling in the feeling of your sexes grinding against one another. Every graze of his cock against your clothed clit sent fire through your veins, and your vision was beginning to black out.

You had no idea dry humping could feel this damn good. But you were sure that it had a lot to do with the way Jungkook looked underneath you.

He was completely wrecked and fucked out already, offering you slews of curses and praises every time you came down on his dick just right.

“Fuck, I wanna be inside of you so bad,” you were bouncing against his length with fervor, no intentions of slowing down or stopping until you both reached your highs, “can’t wait to see that pretty little pussy, fill you up with my cum and mark you as mine.”

You moaned at the thought, his filthy words moving you further and further to your desired state of euphoria.

One of his hands gripped tightly on your ass, while the other rested over your clothed core. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission. He knew you’d never done anything like this with anyone before, and he wasn’t about to try and make you do anything that you were uncomfortable with.

“Go ahead,” you gasped, barely having time to register what he was doing until his fingers were circling over your clit.

You were very thankful that you’d decided to wear cloth pajama shorts, and thin ones at that. He could feel everything— and so could you. Your hips bucked up and into his hand as you rode his cock, begging for him to make you cum.

“You’re so fucking soaked, babe. It’s leaking through your shorts.” He smirked at the sight, gathering up a bit of the dampness on the tips of his fingers.

The way he inserted the two digits into his mouth had you crying out, nearly on the verge of tears from the sight alone.

“Wanna taste?” He asked, and you eagerly nodded.

He collected more of your wetness onto his fingertips, and you made a show of sucking on them lewdly once they entered into your mouth.

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?”

As if to prove his point, you used your own fingers to reach into your panties, gathering your arousal straight from the source.

His was practically salivating, eyes begging for you to let him clean your fingers off with his tongue.

As if reading his mind, you nodded. And he wasted no time before suckling your fingertips into his mouth. He moaned around them, savoring your sweet taste. He wished like hell he could pin you down and clean you up with his tongue, but he knew you weren’t ready for that, and he was respectful.

Still, he was determined to make you cum. He wanted desperately to see what you looked like when you came undone.

“No more games.” He growled, his hands returning to your hips to hold you steady above him.

He fucked up against you, the outline of his cock hitting your sensitive bundle of nerves each time.

Soon, you were crying out and squirming— a poor attempt at trying to get away.

“F-fuck! Oh, my god!” you couldn’t stop the way your hips rolled, or the way your thighs began to shake, “Kook! Holy shit, I’m gonna—“

Before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm washed over you and you came harder than you ever had before in your life. Your body felt hot, and every single one of your limbs were shaking. The only thing you were able to say or remember was Jungkook’s name, chanting it like a prayer as you slowly came back down to earth.

“That was fucking beautiful,” He was quick to compliment you, staring down at the apparent dark spot on your light pink shorts, “just wanna clean that all up, then do it all over again.”

Your face was flushed, and you weren’t sure whether it was from the mind blowing orgasm you’d just had or his words. You couldn’t be bothered to care, your body falling limp against his as he held your delicate frame close to him.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” You huffed, and you felt the rumble of Jungkook’s chest as he chuckled.

“So, you wanna go on a date tomorrow?” His hand caressed your back, and your eyes fell shut at the soothing feeling.

“Mhm.” You were dozing off, barely aware of what he’d said at all.

He just simply smiled at you, pressing his lips to kiss the top of your head.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and get you to sleep.”

You nodded as he stood up from the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“Good idea.” You mumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest.

He carried you down the short hallway to his master bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. You were already nearly asleep as he laid you down on the right side of his bed.

Jungkook kissed at your temple before making his way over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his boxers for you to change into. He disappeared into the en-suite bathroom for a moment, carrying a damp cloth in his hand when he returned.

You smiled at him, eyes half open.

“This feels like a dream.”

The weight of the mattress shifted as he sat down beside you, holding out the fresh change of undergarments and the towel for you.

“Tell me about it.” He grinned, turning his head away from you to give you some privacy as you changed out of your soiled shorts.

You were thankful for that— for how respectful he was.

As you pulled your shorts down along with your panties, a realization hit you and your eyes widened.

“Kook!” you shrieked, startling the man, “you didn’t cum!”

He barked out a laugh at your outburst. Just when he thought you couldn’t get any cuter, you were quick to prove him wrong.

“I know, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” You insisted, quickly wiping your thighs clean and pulling on the plaid boxers he’d given you.

“Babe, I promise, it’s okay. Tonight was all about you, I wanted to make you feel good.”

Your lower lip pushed out and into a pout, your hands reaching forward to grab his face so that you could make him look at you.

“But, I wanted to make you cum.”

He hissed at your words, willing his cock not to rise. He knew you were tired, and there’d be plenty of time for you to get him off later.

“Let’s get some sleep, yeah? We can fool around tomorrow if you want to.”

You sighed, a tiny frown present on your face now.

“Can I just… give you a hand job, or something?”

You didn’t miss the way he groaned at your words, or the way his eyes quickly screwed shut.

“If you want to, you can. But don’t feel like you have to, I promise, it’s okay.”

“I want to,” you didn’t hesitate in replying, “but I’ve never done it before, so…”

Before you knew it, he was moving to lie down beside you on the other side of the bed. He was already sporting a tent in his athletic shorts, which had you nearly drooling. Based on the outline, he was sure to be huge. You prayed that you were right.

Jungkook looked relaxed, large eyes staring up at you and waiting for you to make a move. He flashed you an encouraging smile, his hands resting behind his head.

“Go ahead, do whatever you want. No need for you to be shy, it’s just me.”

Just him.

If anything, those words did little to calm your nerves. You’d only ever dreamed about being in similar predicaments with your best friend. And now that it was real and happening, you were petrified that you’d do something wrong and send him running in the opposite direction.

Taking a mental deep breath, you sat up in the bed and crossed your legs as you turned your body to sit right beside his lower half.

You reached a shaky hand forward, brushing your fingertips over the outline of his rock hard length. As your fingertips danced and teased over his covered cock, Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat.

Carefully studying his face to watch his reactions, you pulled his shorts down and he lifted his hips to help you out.

The tight, grey briefs he was wearing left little to the imagination. You could see every ridge and curve of his thick length, and drool was collecting on the corners of your mouth as you admired it.

“Like what you see?” His voice was teasing, and he wiggled his hips.

You laughed, rolling your eyes at his actions.

Yeah, it was just Jungkook. Your best friend. The one person you trusted and loved most in this world. It was okay. This was okay.

With your newfound confidence, you tugged his underwear down, his impressive dick springing free in the process.

You moaned quietly at the sight.

Sure, you were a virgin and didn’t have much to compare it to, but you were positive he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen— and would ever see in your life. The head was perfectly pink and already dripping with precum, long veins running from base to tip. You couldn’t wait for the day it would be buried inside of you, and your cunt clenched around nothing at the thought alone.

Your hand instinctively found itself wrapped around his length as best it could, fingers unable to connect to your palm due to his size. Jungkook let out a breathy sigh at the sudden contact, his eyes glued to the way your hand began to do a few test pumps.

“Yeah,” he sighed, tilting his head back, “just like that. A little faster.”

With his guidance, you did as he suggested and picked up the speed of your hand. You watched the way his face contorted, the way his eyes screwed shut and pulled together as you ran your thumb over his slit, collecting the moisture leaking from it to use as makeshift lube.

Deciding to take a risk, you collect a bit of saliva in your mouth before allowing it to drip down and onto his cock.

“Hoooooly fuck, that’s hot.” You smirked at Jungkook’s praise and approval, working your hand up and down his shaft at a quicker and easier pace now thanks to the slick your spit had created.

The faster your hand pumped, the harder it became for Jungkook to properly breathe. He was panting, curses and praises of your name leaving his lips every so often.

You brought your free hand up to work at his balls, rolling and caressing them in a way that seemed to drive the man halfway to insanity.

“Fuck, you sure this is your first time doing this?” He breathed out the words, his arm falling to rest over his eyes as he attempted to keep himself composed.

“Swear.” You responded, eyes glued to the way his bottom lip was now rested between his teeth.

One final twist of your palm had him reeling, gripping at the sheets underneath him with one hand— his other coming to wrap around your wrist as you continued to work him toward his end.

He was moaning shamelessly, not the least bit shy in letting you know how amazing you were making him feel. Maybe it was the way you were fondling him, or maybe it was the fact that it was you giving him the best hand job he was sure he’d ever had.

He decided it was probably a combination of both as his hips thrust up wildly, effectively fucking his dick into your grasp. The way his cock seemed to twitch let you know he was close, and you brought your hand up and then back down as fast as you could.

He came with a loud moan of your name, his sperm coating his lower stomach and your hand all at the same time. You watched in awe as he lost himself, pride settling in as you realized that you were the one responsible for his orgasm.

As Jungkook’s body slowly stopped writhing, you removed your hand from his member. You waited for him to make eye contact with you again before you dipped your fingertips into the cum on the back of your other hand and brought them up and into your mouth.

“Goddamn.” He groaned, marveling at your erotic behavior.

You effectively cleaned his seed from your fingers, swallowing it and showing him your tongue along with your empty mouth.

“That was amazing.” His compliments sent butterflies straight to your stomach, and he was pulling your mouth down to crash on his before you could respond.

“I love you.” You were mumbling the words against his lips before you even realized what you were saying.

You were panicking instantly, kicking your own ass for blurting it out. Sure, you’d said you loved each other before, but not like this.

The feeling of Jungkook grinning against your mouth is what calmed you, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

His forehead rested against yours as he pulled away, and the two of you let out a sigh of content.

“I love you too, you know.” His hand caressed your lower back as he spoke, your thumb running over his cheek.

“I was hoping.” You giggled, and he simply shook his head at you.

This was it, you thought.

You never wanted to kiss anyone else, or do anything remotely sexual with anyone else. He was going to be your first everything, you were sure of it. And you hoped that he’d be your last.

*do NOT reupload/repost on any site, translate without my permission, or claim as your own.

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revenant-dumpster-fire · 4 years ago

Text

Warm (Revenant x Reader)

Theme: Reader comforts Revenant after a somewhat brutal loss in a duos match as Revenant becomes concerned with his image.

Warnings: Mentions of mania, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, threats of violence, graphically described violence, pain, sharp objects, borderline sexual fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is non-gendered in this chapter, this is getting romantic but hasn't crossed the line quite yet, reader will eventually have to be gendered (but I'll hold off as long as possible).

Writing Notes: Compliments give me fuel. Lot of development this chapter, more characters. I feel like this is increasingly revealing of who I am as a person, so I'm glad I'm anonymous.

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The Apex Games are brutal. It's a miracle these people can be suspended in death boxes and sewn or pieced back together after what happens to them. You've heard murmurs that some of the visual brutality is simulated by an AI for the cameras while the much less damaged person is imprisoned in a deathbox, but you are not so sure of that. It looks too real, and the Legends seem way too accustomed to pain and morbid destruction for it not to be. You are desensitized to a lot of gore and snuff yourself, but you've come to know the Legends just well enough to shudder when they are disemboweled in front of you. When you first started volunteering to help, you remembered being endlessly relieved the first time you saw them all return from the medical ward.

Even though you know they will likely be fine, you whimper as Bloodhound takes an apparently fatal blow from the favorites for this duos match: Loba and Bangalore. It isn't very often that random chance creates such an iconic duos pair, but it's happening today and the cameras are loving it. The cameras have been so fixated on these two that you haven't seen night or day out of Revenant. According to the trackers on the screen, Revenant is still in the game, but his teammate--Fuse--was knocked out of the match early on. Knowing those two, they likely agreed to drop hot--in an area with lots of combatants. While it's a good way to get kills, it's also an ideal way to get killed. From previous matches, you have the impression Revenant will drop hot if his teammate or teammates agree, but he won't do so otherwise. Fuse is absolutely the type to agree to dropping hot. You worry for Fuse even though you are certain he will be back tomorrow or soon thereafter, ready for more.

Loba and Bangalore have used their combined skills to gather long-range sniper weapons and considerable kills so far this match. Bangalore is able to use her abilities to create confusion and draw combatants out from cover, and Loba could create or close distances with her warp band while also gathering excessive amounts of high-level weaponry, mods, and armor to make them all the more terrifying. They pulled ahead early in the game, and now they feel unstoppable. The cameras watch as they run across Olympus' beautifully groomed grass towards the next team to victimize.

You feel like you're not doing what you should be doing. Did Revenant really just want you to watch the match today? Shouldn't you do something helpful?

You get yourself to the edge of the bed, hop up, and start to make it. It was so perfect when you hopped in yesterday, you want to try to make it equally as perfect. Your legs no longer hurt, and you feel well-rested despite Revenant's creepily watchful eyes. You take a deep breath, stretch backwards, and get to making the bed. You will have to go to your volunteer bunk and change soon. You wonder if you will have to move out of the volunteer area--even though it's small and cramped, it's been your home for a few years now. Your coworkers feel more like roommates, varying from cool but introverted to outgoing but overbearing. You like all of them, and you have the unusual standing as one of the longest-running volunteers, staying through off and on seasons to keep things functioning. You don't want to lose them, or the only home you've known for a few years.

Gunshots ring out on the television, Loba and Bangalore are taking shots at another team fight from afar. You see the symbol for Lifeline pop up as knocked, then eliminated. Caustic's name pops up next. Finally, Revenant came up as knocked, but not eliminated. You can't help but panic just a little, but Revenant apparently had a self-revive and is moving again, fleeing the area as Loba gives vicious chase trying to make up the distance from sniping. Revenant is in bad shape, he has been fighting solo for a while, and Loba knows he is practically a free kill at this point. You're afraid this is going to turn into another Loba versus Revenant fight, a favorite of the audience due to how ruthless they both are with each other. You don't like them fighting. You don't like seeing Loba be nearly beheaded or gutted, and you don't like seeing Revenant be slowly but surely tortured to death. There is no alternative ending with those two. It's always violent, and Revenant doesn't stand much of a chance at this rate. He clearly knows that.

You stare at the television breathlessly, trying to make the bed without looking away. Loba is hunting, and Revenant is unable to keep enough distance. In a last gambit, Revenant manages to break line of sight, launching his silencer into the doorway of a bunker and then intentionally running into the opposing bunker. Loba falls for it, as she makes an immediate path for the bunker with the silencer, opting to take the back door. It buys Revenant enough time to use a Pheonix Kit, a piece of equipment that restores his shields and health completely for a much fairer fight.

Hell is about to break loose.

You plop down on the bench having finished the bed, unable to look away. Loba and Revenant meet eyes from within each bunker through the small windows on each side. Loba looks infuriated at his newly rejuvenated state. Revenant's look is too intense to be smug, it truly is a mechanical malice undescribable by any other terminology. These two loathe each other. The spectators roar in excitement at another bloodbath between the lovely but deadly master thief and her mechanical antagonist, the commentators giving a short review of the last time these two met on the battlefield.

Revenant, now unafraid of the odds, immediately dashes to close the gap between their bunkers. Loba flings her warp band in his direction, landing behind him, and immediately getting two Mastiff slugs in his back. You cringe at the sight. Revenant turns to meet her fire with his Volt, but Bangalore's lobbed smokescreen fills the area before his shots meet. Bangalore had been lagging behind Loba, but she was close enough now to take shots again. You hear Loba's Mastiff take a number of more shots in the smokescreen, the Volt returning fire. Bangalore calls in her Rolling Thunder, cascading aerial bombardment all throughout the smokescreen. Revenant manages to break free of the now-fading smokescreen, trying to escape the explosives, but it was clearly Bangalore's intent for him to do so. With her well-equipped Longbow, she manages to snipe Revenant, knocking him to his knees.

Loba was soon looming over him, waiting for the camera to catch up. The crowd chants and screeches waiting for the gore. There are no microphones on the Legends themselves, but you can tell that Revenant is cursing her as she comes over to finish him. You wince, you don't want to watch this, but you feel you have to.

Loba kicks his head hard enough to knock out any human opponent, sending him to the ground. His mask is cracked open, revealing the copper lining underneath and the wiring for his optics. He stays grounded, glaring at her with an unspeakably vicious hatred. He faces his demise with just as much malice as he had moments earlier, perhaps even more. She goes in for a direct stomp, plunging the five-inch tall heel of her shoe into and through Revenant's left optic. You grimace at the horror of it, wanting to cover your face to escape the imagery. Revenant's body lurches backwards and writhes in pain, grabbing aimlessly at his face, screaming so loudly that the drone camera picks it up as his vocalizations crack and become inundated with static.

Revenant isn't eliminated. Revenant is treated differently than the human and more finite combatants. His deaths are of no consequence, so he isn't protected from them. He can just come back, over and over. So the cameras roll and he's left to suffer whenever it makes for better television. The most bloodthirsty fans have always loved this double-standard, but you are beginning to revile it more by the moment.

Loba spits on him, taking a moment to parade to the crowd her triumphant moment. Revenant's last remaining optic is dimming uncontrollably, but is still locked on her when she returns to finish the job. They lock eyes for a moment. You don't know the details--nobody does--but it's clear they have some kind of history where all the hatred stems from. Revenant looks away in acceptance of his defeat, and his neck is immediately clamped down on by her heels. With a single twist of her leg, the cracking noise of his head being forcibly freed from his torso rings out. You want to vomit.

Revenant is only now considered eliminated, his husk of a chassis lying nearly in two pieces, his head twisted perpendicular to his torso. The crowd is absolutely ablaze. Loba reaches down, tearing the scarf off his head and holding it triumphantly in the air, looking as if she just scalped her kill. Bangalore shies away from the cameras herself, she's clearly ready to move on. Loba revels in the violence, just like Revenant does, but there is something especially malicious between them.

You feel the nausea taking hold even stronger. Revenant is someone you know now. He's shown you kindness, and you've become very fond of him. You can't say you know him extremely well, granted, but well enough to feel empathy for his pain. Watching him essentially have his skull broken, eye gouged, and neck severed is a lot to take. You could literally see the excruciating pain in his body language when his eye was stomped out. They shouldn't allow it. The moment a human life is in danger they get deathboxed. Only now that Revenant's body is dead and vacated of all living code, as well as the audience thoroughly satiated, does Revenant's corpse get deathboxed. He managed to fight his team all the way to seventh place alone. Loba and Bangalore continue on, the cameras lovingly cataloging their sweep.

You get up and turn off the television, sheepishly use your new ID to leave the room, and head to the volunteer bunks. It's the middle of the day, so nobody is around. A note on your bunk reads "Worried about you! Let me know when you get back. -Sherry". You scribble back, "Sorry Sherry, had a special request I had to run, need to talk later. Text me." and place it on her bunk. Sherry is the de facto leader of the volunteers, here since day one of season one. You know each other well. She doesn't pry often, but disappearing for a night is really out of character for you, so you don't mind it this once. She will know if you're allowed to stay in the volunteer bunks or not. You gather your things, just in case, and haul them to Revenant's room. You only have a single duffel bag of clothes and toiletries to your name. It has been that way since you found yourself on the streets years ago. It's easy enough to carry, but some amount of sadness still lingers in you as you haul your only worldly possessions in a single bag. The Apex Games gives you year-round work in exchange for a place to live rent-free. The Legends who tip well basically keep you at a decent wage for the hours. So despite not having much to your name in terms of assets, you now have a bank account with enough value to move on if absolutely necessary.

You use the badge to open Revenant's door. It dings satisfactorily, and you dump your bag on the floor. You're not leaving the area until he's back. You already decided. You're in some stage of denial after watching him die, but simultaneously you cannot be in denial if he always comes back. You shake your head, the nausea fights for its throne in your gut. You grab a change of clothes out of the bag and head to the bathroom in the far left corner of the room.

As you enter, you see a mostly untouched bathroom, spare for a strangely out-of-place comb, shaving cream, an old-fashioned razor blade, and the mirror smeared opaque with dried suds--likely from the shaving cream. None of those items make sense. Not a single one. Why was the mirror so filthy? Why did a simulacrum have shaving or hair brushing tools? You consider that it might be a coping mechanism, but that doesn't explain the mirror. Whatever, you'll clean it in a second. No need to make a big deal out of it all.

Halfway through changing, you lose your battle with nausea. You don't have anything in your stomach, a fact you quickly realize as you lurch over the toilet. Just stomach acid. What a violent and terrible death. You know he feels just as a human does, it's not his fault he isn't as fragile. It's so unfair. You stand tall, having expelled the worst of it. You finish putting on your "I'm not feeling it" shirt, and make a quick orbit to the duffel and back, picking up your toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash. You clean out your mouth thoroughly, trying to fight off the taste of acid.

You finish up, leaving your oral care items behind to take your dirty clothes to the laundry room and grab some mirror cleaning supplies while there. Since you know how to fully clean down a room, you figure it is within your ability to completely clean Revenant's room. Maybe Fuse's too, these cleans tend to be quick and efficient when you perform them.

• • • •

"Hey, oh my gosh, where were you last night?" The text comes in as you're hauling the cleaning supplies to Fuse's room. It's early afternoon, you'll be done with this before it even begins to get dark.

"Hey, sorry, I had a special request. I didn't mean to worry anyone. I'm cleaning Fuse's room now." You text back, hoping Sherry will meet you here and help wrap up even faster.

"OMW" The text comes in only moments after.

After a few minutes, you hear Fuse's door open. Sherry is a petite blonde woman in her early twenties. Despite her longer, curly hair, she is otherwise not too dissimilar looking from Wattson, her favorite Legend. They have a good relationship apparently, Wattson regularly jokingly adding "request for mon Sherry" to her requests, a play on "mon cherie" in French.

"I didn't see a request for Fuse to have his room cleaned, did you delete it from the system?" Sherry was always on-task.

"Oh, sorry, no, I kinda needed something to do." You look up from changing the bed sheets, "Do you mind giving me a hand?"

"Sure, but there are tons of requests you could have taken, why make one up?" She walks to the opposite side of the bed, nabs the sheet, and looks up, locking sights on your ID.

Her shock is immediate and silent. You notice that she has noticed.

"How did you get that..." She trails off, her head clearly running at max capacity with various theories.

"Revenant gave it to me." You answer blankly. "I don't know what to do."

Sherry stares, her expression becoming increasingly appalled and concerned.

"What... what happened last night? You didn't like... "earn" that, right? I mean, you didn't trade for it, did you?" Her expression grimaces further. "Does he even have the parts for that...?"

You suddenly realize what she's saying, and wave your hands to snap her attention.

"No! Nothing like that! He sees me so often he wanted a personal lackey instead." You see her expression soften for a moment before it snaps back.

"Then where were you last night?"

"Wha--?"

"You heard me, where were you then?"

You stare at the floor, unsure if you can lie so blatantly to her. She stares at you for a moment.

"One moment you're depressed, then next thing I know you're manic, then you disappear for a day and a half. Is this some kind of new suicide plot you have? Seduce a murder robot?" She seems genuinely worried.

"I promise it's not like that! I was exhausted! I accidentally fell asleep when I brought him water--"

"Why did nobody call the paramedics? If you passed out, you should have been given a health check! Why didn't that robot call anyone?" She genuinely cared about you, she was a good friend, through and through.

"Uh, well, I kinda slept in his bed."

Her face went from worry to one of shock and morbid concern. Her knees buckled for a moment and rectified themselves as she cartoon-ishly tried to process her thoughts.

"You see, I guess he's taken a liking to me, and he saw how tired I was, so--"

"So you slept with him just so you could get a break? You should have just asked for time off! You never take it! I would have given it to you!" She was clearly upset.

"It didn't happen like that!" She had a tendency to catastrophically think, so her mind was already five steps ahead of you in the worst possible timeline. If you could stop it now, hopefully it wouldn't continue.

"Wait, why are we changing Fuse's sheets? How many robots and people have you slept with?!" she dropped the sheets at a complete loss. Too late to stop her mental train, it was already off the rails and burning in a ditch.

"Sherry! Pay attention! I didn't do anything with anybody. I just passed out in Revenant's bed, and he decided not to kill me but promote me instead because he's Revenant and he does what he wants, even when it makes no sense to anybody. I didn't even see Fuse yesterday, I just figured I'd clean his room since both him and Revenant took a heck of a loss today." You didn't often get loud, so when you did it tended to garner attention.

Sherry sighed.

"Yeah, that sounds more like the truth than my insane theory." She rests her face in her palms for a moment. "So, uh, I guess you and Revenant are friends now?"

"Subordinate or lackey is probably a better term, but he actually is nice to me! Aside from all the threats..." You trail off, wondering if he means it or if he simply is keeping up his persona.

"Well, congratulations on becoming the homicidal robot's plaything?" She wasn't wrong. Actually, her term was probably more accurate. "Please don't get murdered. I didn't get you out of that homeless shelter just to deliver you into the hands of a bloodthirsty robot with a fascination for evisceration. I'll feel so bad if you die..." She trails off, catastrophic thoughts ablaze. "Just quit!" She perks up with her solution.

"He's not going to kill me, and if he does, it's not your fault. I'm choosing to do this."

She sighs, and starts making the bed with clean sheets, unsure of how to argue, or if the argument is worthwhile.

Sherry was the one you reached out to when you heard that you could work for the Apex Games in return for a bed, bathroom, food, and basic healthcare. She picked you up at the homeless shelter, and helped forge some fake credentials on your resumé at the time. She cleared you herself, pretending as if she never met you before and calling your previous "boss" who was actually just a very confused telemarketer, resulting in getting you the place and position you have now. You've always thought she's an upstanding person; her maternal instincts sometimes getting in the way of her letting people make their own choices freely though. She felt like an older sister to you.

"Please tell me you're at least getting paid. Without the tips from the other Legends, how are you going to keep saving up?" She asked weakly, finishing up by fluffing the pillows.

"Uh, well, I haven't asked yet... I actually meant to ask if I have a room still." You answered, a bit dumbfounded you hadn't considered that before.

"What?! Did you think this through at all?" She burst, but quickly softened, "Of course you still have a room, there should be a door in the back of every Legend's room with the same kind of bunks as we have. Those are for you special folks. It has a bathroom and everything."

"Ah, good, I kinda wish I could stay with you guys, but..."

"...but your new robot-boyfriend is calling you?" She breaks her melancholy with ruthless teasing, just like an older sister. "Yeah, I'll need the space for a new volunteer, definitely."

"I figured as much. Always running on short-handed here." You're a little relieved the choice is made for you.

"So, I'm guessing you now have all Revenant requests, now and forever?" She chuckles a bit. "You somehow take the biggest demotion and consider it a promotion. I can't believe you like dealing with that guy."

You banter back and fourth, finishing up Fuse's room. It'll be nice for him to come back to a clean room, especially considering how his match went that morning. Sherry promises to come around this part of the building more to keep an eye on you, swearing she will kick Revenant's ass if he does "whatever murder-bots do". You go your separate ways, laughing at each other's stupid quips.

• • • •

There is a door at the back of the room. Sherry was right. It is intentionally made to camouflage into the wall, as well as the scanner that opens it. You hold your ID up to it, hear the positive chirp, and the door slides open to reveal a nice small room and bathroom. It's a private bedroom embedded within Revenant's. The door now freely slides like a pocket door to open and close, apparently you only need to activate it once to get access. A nice little bed, a nice little dresser, and a nice little bathroom! It reminds you of a super tiny hotel room, everything is compact but still a notable step up from shared bunks. You breathe deeply, inhaling the smell of a fresh new room. You haul your duffel bag in and toss it into a little cubby under the mattress, and boom, you're moved in! So easy!

Revenant still isn't back yet though. You wonder how long it will take for his new chassis to activate and return here. You wish so badly to know how he is doing, but it is impossible to know. You grabbed some snacks from the kitchen alongside dinner with Sherry, so you have food to stress-binge on if necessary. You figure laying down for the night can't hurt. So you hit the lights in Revenant's room, leaving it to only be lit by the rising moonlight overhead through the skylight. You sneak into your little cubby of a room, flipping the lights off as you slide the door shut behind you. You don't have any skylight, in fact, your ceiling was about 6 feet or so shorter than his, making it much more average. Granted, his room is massive, but you are happy with your tiny private closet. It is so cool.

You fall back in the bed. Soft as can be. Same as his.

Sleep takes you very quickly.

• • • •

You wake up to an inhuman screeching. You jolt up, making yourself panic further as you check your surroundings and recall where you are. You're alone in the little bedroom, the screaming is from the other side of the door, in Revenant's main room. It echoes in a uncanny valley between human despair and mechanical detune. You leap out of bed and rush to open the door to see what is wrong.

The door slides open and you see Revenant, his mask and jaw tilting in opposite directions to replicate an open mouth, revealing a disturbingly black void where his mouth would be, no headscarf, howling in some kind of agony under the moonlight. It sounds so sad, so sorrowful. The pocket door clicks as it reaches its full open position, and Revenant's eyes lock on as soon as the sound is registered. His instincts are instantaneous. His howl slowly fades as he uses up what's left in his artificial lungs, his eyes never breaking from yours. The sorrow leaves him, his jaw slowly closes, and his stature returns for a moment.

"Are you okay?!" You ask him.

He hides is face and his body motions like a person who is sobbing for a few moments, but he doesn't. He couldn't even if he wanted. He regains himself quickly, walking up to you blankly.

"Hey, uh, are you oka--?"

"Keep me warm, skinsuit." His voice shakes as he pulls you into him in an embrace.

He is extremely cold, but his metal parts start to sap your body heat immediately. He is alive. He is new, but alive. You wrap your arms around his small abdomen, slipping under the pistons that hold up his large torso. You squeeze harder than you mean to, giving away that you are genuinely worried about him.

"I thought you left." He admits shakily, still not wholly able to hide his emotions. "I didn't..." He trails off. He places his hand on your head, messing with your hair a bit, until you gaze up at him. He looks down at you in the eye and you see something familiar. Disbelief. "You stayed."

You don't have words. Words mean nothing anyway in moments like this. You squeeze him tighter and he winces a little. You realize his abdomen is probably the least protected area of his body, and even you might be able to hurt him with the wrong touch. You lean forward and bury your face into it anyway, you're pretty sure you can feel a pouch through the leather skin that acts as a stomach receptacle, but you're not sure.

Revenant's body shakes a little like he cannot hold back tears, but as a simulacrum, he has none. You hear a sorrowful moan instead that is quickly stifled. Despite his persona, he has a very human personality.

"Come, keep me warm." He pulls you away for a moment so he can move again, then grabs your wrist and pulls you to the bed. The bed he never used. "It's easier with insulation." He rips the blanket off of it, wrapping it around you both in one sweeping movement, and sitting on the edge, pulling you down with him.

Your face flushes hot red. This is unlike him. He notices, and you swear you see a little bit of a pink glow on him too. He definitely had been flush during his stunt on live TV before joining the games. Insane to think they built that functionality into a mask. He grunts and breaks eye contact.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm just cold." He pulls you into his lap before you can say anything in response. "I have an easier time cooling down with fans than I do heating up. I'd have to run really stressful code to do that and using you is so much easier."

He redirects you to face away from him, and as soon as you do he sucks you in as close to him as you can. You're practically inside of his giant, looming frame. His breath rattles a little in his artificial lung pumps. His hands grapple around your hands while holding the blanket taut, holding them in balled fists and trading his cold for your heat. His vocalizer sounds as if it's giving a deep growl, closer to a purr, almost too soft to be heard, but not quite.

His new chassis smells a little more like plastics, metal shavings, and leather than the previous one, which had been muddled with the scent of dirt, grass, and polish. It's so cold, he must have only just made it inside. You wonder how far he had to run to get back here.

His head lowers to rest his face into your shoulder. You rest your head back on his. For a moment, this creature is just the same as you. Human.

He stays there, humming and purring and enjoying the moment. His body is no longer cold at all, he is now reflecting your heat back at you and feels warm himself. You carefully turn your head and push your face into the side of his mask where his ears would be. His head perks up a little for a moment, just long enough to catch his dumbfounded expression and pinkening cheekbones before his face retreats into your shoulder again. He squeezes you close, grappling your fists as if to never let go.

You sit there for a while, until finally you feel his cooling fans click to life. He lifts his head off your shoulder.

"Thank you." He says as he releases you. He looks away, clearly trying to hide from your gaze. You don't get up. You keep staring in his direction, hoping he will give in and turn to you. But you are both stubborn.

After a long while, you stand up in surrender, but place your hand on his unclothed head, petting it once, just for good measure. His hand rises to cover his face.

"Please go back to bed, I'm sorry for scaring you." He says in an abnormally low baritone, trying to hide himself further.

You surrender. It isn't worth prying away his façade when he isn't ready. He had already shown different colors than he did most of the time. This was scary, but in an unexplored territory sort of way. You weren't giving this exploration up after a single expedition. So it is best to rest up and not overextend.

You retreat into your little closet of a room, sliding the door gently shut. The moment it shuts completely, you hear Revenant move around rapidly. He's normally so silent. You recline into your bed, happy to be as warm as you are. You fall asleep almost instantly.

• • • •

You wake up, no idea what time it is. The room doesn't have a clock, maybe a bit of an oversight on the decorator's part. You get up, lurk over to the bathroom, and start performing your daily routine. Brush the teeth immediately, get the gross overnight flavor out of it. Strip and shower, thankfully there are already towels in the bathroom. Brush your hair while still damp after trying to get it as dry as possible with your towel. Deodorant. Grab your clothes. You put on something a bit nicer than yesterday. Finally, you're ready for whatever.

You waltz over, and knock on the door to make sure he won't be startled.

Instead, you hear a surprised grunt, scraping metal, and hushed curses against the door. You quickly go to open it, thinking he may be hurt, but the door is locked. You hesitate, dumbfounded. The Legends can lock people in like prisoners if they want to. Your attention snaps back as you hear the lock disengage, and the door flies open before you can move it. Revenant faces you, somehow looking a little disheveled.

"Were you outside my door the entire night...?" You ask, still fairly shocked.

"Doesn't matter." He absolutely was. He spoke hurriedly, potentially a little embarrassed. But he recovers his slow speaking pace quickly. "I should have just let myself in, I feel like I missed a great episode. Do you know what you said last night? Some pretty exciting gibberish."

"So you were against the door all night."

"Dammit, skinsuit!" He throws his arms up and turns away from you, towering over the doorway too short for him to enter comfortably. "You should have just slept out here. You know I get bored."

"I didn't think you wanted me to, you acted like you didn't."

"Well, I didn't really care!" He cared immensely, apparently. "I just needed something entertaining to keep my mind off yesterday." He crossed his arms, and began to meander over to the computer desk.

"I'm sorry, I wish you had told me."

"I was in a bad mood, just forget about it. It's fine." He tapped away at the computer, letting out a depressed sigh. "That scene from yesterday has all of Loba's fans riled up. They're posting it everywhere." He covers his face with his hands for a moment, motioning in embarrassment. "I can't believe I let that happen. I would have been better off letting Caustic gas me earlier."

"You were outnumbered, you did the best--"

"I'm getting my damn scarf back." He refused your comforting words, flinging himself to his feet and trudging out the door in a huff. You go to follow, but he whirls around, pointing straight to you, locking you in a glare. "You stay away from Loba, understand?"

He pauses, waiting to hear your reply.

"Uh, okay, I'll try to stay away from her."

While not an entirely satisfactory answer, Revenant whips back and disappears from sight. You sigh aloud. If those two have some kind of long-running hatred for each other, it would probably be best if you didn't get in the middle of it.

You peer over to the computer. He's right, Loba standing over his dead chassis holding up the scarf is everywhere. Loba fans are absolutely enamored by the triumphant image. Revenant fans openly mourn, swearing revenge. Loba and Bangalore apparently took the win, finally fighting down the second place team of Wattson and Rampart. Sherry will be miffed that Wattson had the spotlight and win taken from her. Although, now knowing you're on team Revenant, she probably will spare you any of her rants.

You stare at the image. It makes you overwhelmingly sad. Right before that snapshot was taken, Revenant was in unspeakable pain. The scream you heard on the broadcast echos in your head. It was one born of pain: strong, violent, and sharp until the static began to overwhelm it. The screeches you woke up to last night were not the same. They were mournful: hollow, airy, and almost melodic in their melancholy. Revenant can feel great pain, but clearly has some kind of appreciation for warmth and a kindly embrace. Why didn't others see that? Why does he have to suffer so much more, just because he is a simulacrum?

You close the browser. It messes with you. The imagery makes you upset. You feel you might vomit again if you're not careful.

You're snap back to attention at a commotion outside in the hallway. You peer out in the general direction of the other Legends' rooms.

"Fuck. You." Revenant's voice is so low it could rattle someone's bones. Fuse is standing in front of him, but Revenant is speaking beyond him to Loba, holding the scarf.

"It's my trophy. I'm a master thief, I don't just give things back." Loba proudly holds it in front of her face.

Fuse tries to keep Revenant at a fair distance from her, but Loba is standing her ground, completely unafraid.

"Woah now, come on, we don't need to settle this here and now." Fuse is attempting to keep the peace.

Revenant's growls can be heard from down the hallway, a number of volunteers have stopped to avoid getting too close, and a couple Legends are peering out their doors. The extra attention is displeasing to Revenant.

"Fine, but you will regret this." He starts to back off, prepared to fight another day, but Loba is relentless.

"Not if you want anything from me. Including that source code." Only now is she content to click her heels and turn away, Revenant suddenly looking like he lost the fight.

"Geeze, mate, do you really have to be so aggressive all the time?" Fuse gasps in a sigh of relief, addressing Revenant. "And I think I come on strong--you're a whole 'nother level!" He is already beaming a smile from under his moustache again, chuckling at his own joke.

Revenant shoots him a scowl for a moment, then turns back to you and begins to come back to the room, scarfless.

Fuse keeps pace with him as you retreat back inside, not sure if you should stay out of their way or not. You instinctively dive in behind the bed, staying low as not to be seen. You hear them come around the corner.

"Wait a minute, mate, I wanted to apologize." Revenant is already in the room, turning around to face Fuse who is standing in the doorway. You stay hidden behind the bed, nearly on the floor, listening in on their conversation. "That wasn't my best work out there yesterday. I feel like if I had been there, maybe you wouldn't have, uh..." He trailed off, his point was clear. "Listen, I'll talk to her, see if I can get 'yer scarf back. I don't want there to be any hard feelings."

Revenant's breathing pattern and low growl sounds like he is about to explode, and Fuse knows it too.

"Oh hey! They cleaned your room too!" His diffuses can be surprisingly effective. "Heh, I didn't even ask and apparently they decided to be like mum and make sure it got done whether I liked it or not."

Revenant hadn't actually noticed until now. He turns to look into the room. He peers across the way, seeing the bathroom mirror is reflective again.

"You're right." He sounds surprised. You swear you can hear another sigh of relief from Fuse now that the anger is gone.

"I was told it was that runner who seems to have a bit of a thing for 'ya did it. Seen 'em around lately?" Fuse asked. "I like to tip everyone, they do such a great job and they're not getting paid."

Revenant ignores him, walking into the middle of the room, peering around. To your recollection, he had never asked for his room to be cleaned as long as you have been volunteering. His room was very dusty. Now light is shining through all the windows, the television is clear, the bed sheets fresh, the carpet vacuumed...

"Yeah, where are they?" Revenant finally asks aloud. Is that your invitation to reveal yourself?

"Um, hi, sorry." You slowly pull yourself up from the floor, revealing your truly mediocre hiding spot.

Fuse gives a surprised stare, clearly catching a glimpse of your red badge, then laughs it off.

"You picked a cute one, didn't 'cha Rev?"

Revenant turns to face him in an absolute fury.

"Listen, I'm just telling ya to play nice." Revenant gets in Fuse's face immediately, but Fuse doesn't budge and meets him eye-to-eye for his next words. "You seem pretty defensive of 'em. Keep it that way."

Those words take Revenant aback just long enough for Fuse to break away and waltz up to you.

"Cheers, thanks for bein' my mum for me." He hands you enough money for a month of groceries, so generous!

"Thank you! That's very kind of you!" You chirp back, very happy to have more for your savings. Revenant seems shocked by the genuine joy in your voice.

As Fuse walks by Revenant to leave, you hear a short exchange:

"I'll try to get the scarf. Don't go killing anybody, and I didn't see anything out of the ordinary." Fuse murmurs.

"...thanks." Revenant sounds genuine.

Fuse gives him a side-hug on the way out, Revenant leaning away to escape it, but failing. Fuse laughs at Revenant's bashfulness. Getting a thanks from Revenant is a miracle unto itself, worthy of such a small celebration. Fuse is a genuinely good person. He is universally loved by the volunteers for his generosity and positivity. A lot of people have crushes on him, and you can understand why. One swift set of finger guns at each of you and Fuse is gone out the door, closing it behind himself.

"He's nice!" You say very matter-of-factly to Revenant.

"Sure, whatever you say, little skinsuit." He mumbles, seeming a bit exhausted by all the exchanges this morning. "What did he give you?"

"Money!" You hold out quite the wad of cash. Revenant chuckles a little under his breath at your happiness.

"What are you saving up for, anyway?"

"Well, for when this gig ends, I guess." You think aloud. "I just never want to be homeless again."

"Homeless?" Revenant looks at you with concern, "You were homeless before the Games?"

"Yeah, it's terrible out there..." You trail off your own words a bit sadly, but in seeing his concern for you, you decide to end on a high note. "With everything I save, I'll make sure I always have enough to live off of, and with the experience I'll have an easier time finding a job."

"Would it help if I paid you?" Revenant asks, plainly.

"Well, yes, but you don't need to."

"You should have told me." He almost whispers. He sounds a little sorrowful again.

You walk up and give him a quick hug.

"Sorry, I didn't know you would want to."

"If you keep getting too close to me, one of these days you're going to end up in a body bag." He sneers, trying to regain his vicious demeanor.

"Sorry, just keeping you warm, boss!" You play along, for now. You release him. "I have to actually get some food, go by the medical ward for some medicine, and then I need to leave the facility to pick up some new clothes. Do you need anything?"

Revenant stares for a moment.

"I'll be here when you return, bring me something alcoholic though." He answers, studying your eyes.

"Yes sir!" You rush out the door.

• • • •

When you return in the evening, you find Revenant's chassis laying like a corpse on the bed, his headscarf back on his head. His eyes are glowing dimly, staring at the ceiling with little interest.

"Oh hey." You address him.

"Oh, hey." He addresses you back, but slower. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

"You okay? You got your scarf back." You acknowledge, hoping he will perk up.

"Yeah." He sounds... depressed?

You put the bag of medicine on his computer desk, along with your bag of new clothes. You walk over with the remaining bag, which has the largest bottles of rum, whisky, and vodka the store sells. It is heavy and expensive, so you carefully place it on the end table next to his bed.

"I got you a ton of alcohol. It was kinda expensive, I'll probably need to be paid back." You carefully request, unsure how he will react. He gives you a thumbs up before his arm collapses onto the bed again. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Nothing much, I just got my scarf back." He sighs.

"Well, how did you get it?"

He moans audibly.

"Fuse got Mirage and Caustic to help him. Apparently it was an absolute mess. Mirage had to make tons of fakes to play keep away with my scarf, and Caustic gassed Loba's room with... zinc chlorides...? Something like that. It set off the fire alarms, everyone had to evacuate--"

"You didn't evacuate, did you?"

"Absolutely not. Anyways, in the chaos my scarf somehow ended up with Artur and Bloodhound."

"Oh geeze, what happened then?"

"They cleaned it, brought it to me, and gave it to me folded up neatly."

"Oh. Well... that last part isn't so bad."

"They were kind." His eyes tightened with discomfort, "And they left me with this." He holds up a single crow feather, perfectly dainty and undamaged.

"Aw, Artur!" You chirped; Artur was the sweetest bird you have met, not that you have met many.

Revenant sat up suddenly, his eyes getting bright again.

"Why would they do that?" He studied the feather in his hands, like he is completely bewildered with the concept of kindness. "They didn't owe me anything." He puts the feather down in front of him on the bed, pulling his hands up to hold his scarf in his grip on the two sides of his head. "They don't owe me this."

"Are you alright? You seem to not want to accept that Bloodhound is a nice person." You wanted to feed him the answer inside the question.

He stays silent for a while, taking the feather and handing it to you.

"Artur said this was for you, specifically."

"Wait, what do you me--"

"It's Bloodhound. It's in their name." He sighs, as you recognize concern in his tone, "They know who you are, they know you're here, and they recognized your scent on me." He lays down on his back, exasperated. "I can't let more people know." You hold Artur's feather, twirling it in your fingers. "They can't know. I am not like this." He seems genuinely upset.

"You seem cold." You prompted.

"I am very cold." He responds, overanalyzing each word for their deeper meaning.

"Do you want to be warm?" You put the feather down next to the bag of alcohol.

He pauses to sit back up before answering.

"Yes, but I can never let any of them know that." He answers plainly, but seriously.

You sit down next to him and are quickly grabbed and enveloped in his cold body, pulling you deeper onto the bed and directly under him. He almost instantly rests his head on your shoulder. His breath slows to a relaxed pace, rattling a little in his chest. His vocalizer hums at a low purr, and he moves his hands to feel your pulse, one at your chest and one to your jugular. He presses in, studying your inherent tick.

The television is on in front of you, but you haven't noticed it until now. The commentators are going over the edits of the "Loba the Scalper" image they found on social media, having nothing more important to talk about before the upcoming trios match. Revenant sighs a bit in your ear, still clearly bothered by his very public execution. You wrap your arms behind you to hug his waist. He holds you tighter for a moment, clearly understanding your intent is to comfort him.

You begin to massage the leather and the mechanisms underneath, unsure of how he will react; but he almost instantly squeezes you again, endorsing your idea. As you work into his back, his eyes dim and his breath quickens and deepens at strange intervals, relating to each long, deep stroke you perform. He slowly but surely relaxes his grip on you, potentially not realizing it. His mask digs into your shoulder, possibly trying to stifle his abnormal breathing. You keep at it for a few minutes, revelling in how sensitive his chassis is. Simulacrums were truly amazing.

Revenant's body melts under your touch, his chassis making odd movements clearly out of pure enjoyment. He's completely warm now, actually turning a bit hot as his code runs trying to keep up with your inputs. You worry that perhaps his circuits are being stressed too hard, but he also seems to be enjoying it so much.

He suddenly seems to shut down. His eyes go black, his weight falls on your shoulders, and his arms dislocate and slump out of his shoulder armor. You struggle to hold up his weight, his torso must be nearly two hundred pounds alone. No wonder he needs pistons to hold it up with his skinny waist.

He roars back to life, literally growling like a beast. His hands open and stretch like talons, the tips sharpening into claws. His legs cross in front of you, and his arms cross in front of you, and they pull you up against him in a nearly-crushing manner. His talons press into your flesh where they land, causing you a minor amount of pain. More concerningly, his jaw pulls open and he immediately goes as if to bite you, pushing your neck into the void of his mouth. He doesn't bite down though. His eyes are needle-thin, and brightened to a nearly red color. You gasp for breath in complete shock.

"You're mine!-Mine!-Mine!" His vocals are skipping as his hoarse, aggressive voice practically screams. "You belong to me!" He falls silent for a few moments. His shoulders refit themselves into their sockets as he slowly relaxes and retracts his claws from you. His softer voice returns. "Mine..." he calmly finishes. His jaw removes itself from your neck and closes. "I'm sorry. Emotions load faster than logic. It's hard to control myself after a reboot."

You had been holding your breath, and finally exhale and inhale, feeling faint with fear and deoxygenated blood. You slump back in his grip, putting your hands on your diaphragm to steady your breathing. You let yourself completely melt onto the bed, allowing yourself to look up at his face, gazing down at you.

"So, that's how you really feel then?" You pant, still catching your breath.

"Only a bit." He tries to comfort you, taking your hands in his. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you. Being a simulacrum is complicated. Even more complicated if you don't learn humanity while you're still human." He looks away, apparently not necessarily sure what he is missing in himself. "But I cannot deny there is truth in that emotion."

"It sounds like 'if I can't have you, nobody can' isn't off the table yet." You are slowly catching your breath.

"I would be very upset. I don't handle being upset well." His words are foreboding, but you're unsure if he is uncertain himself or trying to hide the truth. You want to sleep; you feel like you're going to have a heart attack. He squeezes your hands, noticing your weariness. "Sleep out here tonight."

You give him a weak thumbs up, fully expecting to just sleep right where you are. Revenant releases your hands, throws a blanket over you, and pulls you by your torso into a better sleeping position, up against a pillow. You throw out another thumbs up in approval. He snickers in response.

"I'm getting drunk. So sick of today. I'm going to create a scene so gruesome next game that everyone forgets about this little fiasco." He grumbles. You hear him cork something as you drift to sleep. "Have a good night, little skinsuit." Sleep was taking you rapidly.

"Thank you for the warmth." is the last thing you hear.

161 notes · View notes

archived-kin · 4 years ago

Text

arcade date with levi (with a twist)

note from kin: the twist is that, rather than just meeting up and going to an arcade for a date, you and levi are actually characters from two different games in the arcade that come to life at night and go on cute romantic hijinks together! (wreck-it-ralph au essentially)

you, simeon, and luke are from a battle game, levi and his brothers are from a side scrolling platformer, solomon is the tutorial dude in an experimental alchemy game, diavolo is the owner of the arcade, and barbatos is the janitor! your character’s costume is basically the same as caesar’s from jojo’s bizarre adventure, and you’re kind of the pseudo-leader of your game’s characters

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, leviathan, luke, simeon, lucifer, solomon

pairing(s): levi/reader

warning(s): guns, non-descriptive injury

genre: fluff

“Lights out!”

You cheer and hop out of your character selection box, stretching out your cramped limbs, then sitting down with a huff. Beside you, Simeon falls out onto the floor in a tangled heap of cape.

“Thank goodness,” He sighs, turning around and lying flat on his back. “Is it just me, or were our patrons picking me far more than usual today…?”

Luke carefully slides out of his own box, landing neatly on his feet with a little flourish. “Yeah, normally [Name]’s the crowd favourite…”

“It’s all those new promotional posters, I bet,” You hum, pulling off your headband and fanning yourself with one hand. “Seems like Diavolo’s really been pushing the angel series lately.”

“I wouldn’t call it a series,” Simeon says, chuckling slightly as he undoes his fancy cape. “There’s only two of us, after all.”

“Well, you’re the only ones out of us who actually have a theme between them,” says another one of your fellow fighters, taking off his hat and twirling it around a finger. “Anyway - [Name], shouldn’t you be going off to meet that loverboy of yours soon?”

“Oh, right!” You jump to your feet, dusting off your pants. Then you pause, raising your hands to pat at your face. “Wait, do my triangles look okay?”

“Your triangles look fine,” Simeon sighs, reaching over and tapping fondly at the little patches of paint on your cheek. “They always do.”

“Alright!” You adjust your scarf and throw the ends over your shoulder, tying your headband around your wrist. “I’ll be off, then! You guys know the drill, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, boss,” calls one of the younger fighters, hunched over in front of his box and scratching restlessly at the tip of his nose. “Not like we haven’t been doing it every day.”

“Don’t get cheeky,” You scold, but give his pompadour an affectionate pat on your way past anyway. It feels almost concerningly solid beneath your touch. “I’ll be back before morning!”

Your fellow fighters give a collective murmur of assent that’s abruptly cut off as you open the network door and hop into a wire. You’ve gone on this path so many times that it’s practically muscle memory at this point - six sections ahead, then to the left twice, a right at the purple junction, and then another four sections forwards.

The Tale of the Seven Lords’s network door is already open when you jump out of the wire, and the first thing you see when you poke your head in is Lucifer polishing one of the transport tubes used to get between levels. He’s discarded the fancy coat that he has to wear all the time as part of his character costume, and you don’t blame him - you couldn’t imagine even just running for five minutes or so with that one, let alone jumping about and punching at things for about fifteen minutes at a time, often longer.

“Lovely evening, Lucifer,” You greet brightly. He pauses in his work for a moment, then turns to look at you.

You’ve never gotten the feeling that he particularly likes you, but you’ve been trying your best to stay on his good side - after all, one must need the eldest’s blessing to date one of their younger brother. And your efforts must have paid off, too, because the corner of his mouth actually lifts slightly when he sees you grinning at him around the side of the door.

“[Name],” He says with a nod. “Levi’s up on Level Six.”

“Right!” You skip inside and shut the door behind you. “Good day?”

“About as good as it can get, I suppose,” He sighs, and you silently cheer. Willing small talk - that’s progress! “Most of our players for today picked either Belphie or Satan, so I got to take a break of sorts.”

You’ll never understand why some of characters in this arcade dislike actually being played so much - after all, isn’t that your entire purpose? Still, if Lucifer’s happy about not being picked, you’ll be happy for him as well. “That’s good!”

“Indeed,” He says, allowing a rare proper smile. He pulls back from the transport tube. “Up you go, then. Levi’s been restless all day - excited, no doubt.”

“He’s so cute,” You coo, adjusting your headband around your wrist to make sure it doesn’t slip off. “We go on dates all the time, but he’s still just as enthusiastic every time.”

“As Asmo likes to say, I suppose that each date should be just as exciting as the first,” Lucifer says evenly as you hop up into the transport tube, taking care not to get the freshly-polished metal grubby. “At any rate�� Levi seems to be happy. So I suppose you must be doing something right.”

“What a wonder, right?” You reply with a laugh, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll have him back before first light. Promise.”

“If you say so,” He says dryly, and stands back as the transport tube sends you up.

Just as Lucifer said, Levi is bustling about on Level Six, accompanied by Belphie, who’s having a whale of a time snoozing on one of the platforms and letting his brother do all the work restocking the power-up bricks. Levi abruptly straightens up as soon as you pop out of the transport tube, as if he can sense your presence immediately, and turns to see you waving happily up at him.

His face immediately lights up, and he hops down from the brick he’s standing on with a goofy jump sound effect, landing beside you with a slightly wobbly grin. Slightly out of breath, he greets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You repeat back to him, kissing his cheek. From up on his platform, Belphie makes an exaggerated retching noise.

Levi absent-mindedly chucks an inactive supersize star behind him at the sound, and it hits Belphie directly in the forehead with a high-pitched ping, sending him toppling backwards off the platform. Luckily, fall damage isn’t programmed into this game, so he lands on his back with nothing but his pride hurt.

“Ready to go?” You ask, disregarding the rather thunderous-looking brother behind your partner. Levi nods eagerly.

“Yeah! Belphie can take the rest of my bricks. He’s barely done anything so far.”

“It’s not my fault so many people picked me today,” Belphie groans, getting up and catching the rest of the power-ups that Levi tosses his way. “I’m tired…”

“You’re always tired,” Levi replies, shaking his head. “Get Beel to do it if you’re so desperate to sleep.”

“Maybe I will,” is Belphie’s final retort before you and Levi disappear back down the transport tube.

Passing Lucifer at Level One again, the two of you slip out through the network door and hop into the wires. Your destination today is the Suspect Sorceror’s abode - one of your regular date spots, and one of your particular favourites.

Despite the fact that the two of you see each other pretty much every day as soon as it’s lights out, there’s always a fresh kind of thrill to the prospect of spending time with Levi, no matter how much you do. It’s kind of like your heart grows wings every time you’re around him - you can’t help but feel all light and fluttery inside.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone - heck, you didn’t even know it was possible for you to feel like this! Every character in this arcade is programmed with a set personality that’s simply impossible to break away from. In some cases, some characters are reduced to such one-dimensional traits that they can only ever respond to anything with one of a predictable and very limited number of possible reactions.

Incidentally, your code has established you as a rather boisterous and confident person who doesn’t always think before they punch, while Levi’s has always dictated him as rather self-conscious and insecure, but passionate about his interests. Neither of you have ever been programmed with anything close to the sort of AI that would be required for you to develop your own feelings separate of your codes - and yet, somehow, you have.

You’ve never pretended to understand your own existence. You’ve not very smart, after all; where your programmers gave you excellent fighting spirit and leadership skills and an unwavering sense of determined justice, they seem to have forgotten to give you very many brain cells. Even so, you’re fully aware of the impossibility of the nature of yours and Levi’s relationship.

Still, your philosophy has always been that worrying about the little things never benefits anyone in the long run. Well, this might not be a little thing, but if there’s anything you’re good at, it’s goofing off to avoid getting too dismal.

You hop out of the wire as soon you’ve reach your destination, landing neatly on your feet with your arms spread wide in a rather flamboyant flourish. Levi scrambles to follow suit, but loses his balance on his way out and immediately starts heading directly for the floor; you quickly dart forward and catch him by the arms.

Levi’s panicked eyes dart up to meet your own, and before you’re even fully aware of what you’re doing, you deftly lift him into the air and give him a smooth twirl, then set him on solid ground once more. His knees immediately nearly give out beneath him, and you have to reach forward to catch him again before he takes a tumble.

“Wh-wh-wh—” Levi’s entire face is a bright, burning red. You’re pretty sure you can actually see smoke coming out of his ears. “You— huh?”

It’s just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen; you can’t help but lean forward to plant a kiss on the very tip of his nose. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to have been the right move, because Levi immediately goes stock still, then abruptly slaps his hands to his face.

“You alright?” You ask, crouching down with him as he slowly sinks down to the ground, practically steaming. You can’t help but laugh, feeling a little bad for flustering him so much. “Caught you off-guard, huh? Sorry.”

Levi shakes his head silently, then finally pulls his hands away from his face. His blush has calmed somewhat - it had been so aggressive that it almost looked like a rash before, but now it’s more of a sort of reddish dust - and he’s looking you in the eyes again.

“Y-y-you can’t just do stuff like that out of nowhere,” He says finally, leaning forward and dropping his forehead on your shoulder. “I have to prepare myself first…”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and rock him back and forth slightly. “You'll get used to it eventually!”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” He mumbles into the sleeve of your jacket, though you do notice that he’s deliberately pressing himself closer to you. “Well, you would if I had a heart.”

“You’re so cute,” You chuckle, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head. “C’mon, we’ve still got a date to finish!”

You give Levi another five minutes or so to get his face back to its usual colour and calm himself down, and he’s pretty much back to normal by the time the two of you step hand-in-hand into Solomon’s little alchemy hut - you with a wide grin on your face and him with a slightly shaky smile. Unfortunately, it seems that date night isn’t going to be going smoothly today, because Solomon is currently being held at gun-point by a character you’ve never seen before.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” crows the strange little man, brandishing one of his two revolvers in yours and Levi’s direction. You instinctively step in front of your partner, steeling your fists in case you need to fight. “Two lovebirds, is it?”

“Evening,” Solomon greets, not looking in the least bit fazed by the barrel he’s currently staring down.

“Who's this?” You ask in reply.

Solomon sighs and leans forward on his counter, ignoring the threatening click of the gun that the little man has pointed at him. “He’s from that shoot-em-up game a couple consoles down. No idea why he’s decided to show up here.”

You wrinkle your nose, reaching behind you to give Levi a reassuring tap on the arm before stepping forward. The little man watches you cautiously, keeping one gun carefully trained directly on your head.

“Your bullets aren’t going to work on me,” You say matter-of-factly. “I haven’t been programmed to take damage when a bullet hits me.”

“Won’t work on you, eh?” He raises an eyebrow. “How about your beau over there?”

You narrow your eyes. “He isn’t any of your business.”

Of course, you know full well that Levi’s game features projectiles that he certainly takes damage from, and while you don’t know if that extends to bullets from this man’s guns, you don’t want to risk it. You, on the other hand, have only ever taken damage from the punches and kicks your fellow fighters throw at you - or the beams of light Simeon and Luke shoot for their respective ultimates.

The man grins, and you note that he’s missing one of his front teeth. “So you won’t mind if I just fire a little bit at him—”

Your arm shoots forward before you even fully register it, and the man careens backwards with a cry as your fist lands directly in his face. The gun he’d been raising to point at Levi clatters to the floor and lets out a shot into one of the walls; Solomon winces.

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?” You scowl, striding forward and planting a foot on the little man’s stomach. He struggles under your boot’s heel, cursing. “First you spoil our date, and now you’re threatening my partner. You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“If you’re going to start a fight, take it outside,” Solomon intervenes, shaking his head. “I’ve got far too many glass bottles in here to risk letting you have a battle in here.”

“Doesn’t matter where I fight as long as I get a good punch in,” You smirk, folding your arms across your chest slightly and glaring down at the man as he scrabbles at your boot, attempting to wrench it off of him. “So, what’ll it be? Either you get your guns and scram, or we can brawl right here and now.”

The man responds by reaching to grab the gun he’d been aiming at Solomon earlier and firing a shot at your face. You jerk back in surprise, foot lifting, and he immediately scrambles out from beneath your foot, pointing up at you with a gleeful laugh.

“See how you like that!” He exclaims. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You slowly reach up to press your fingers to where the bullet struck you, directly in the forehead. Solomon raises an eyebrow, while Levi calls out your name frantically, stepping forward with his hands outstretched.

You shake your head as the man laughs, holding up a hand to stop Levi. “Stay there. I’ve got this under control.”

“Huh?” The man’s grin fades as you pass your hand over the hole, only for it to be gone when your hand moves away. “What the—?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” You ask, looming over him as he frantically attempts to back away. He gulps, fumbling with his gun, but before he can try to fire another round, you knock the gun out of his hand with a swift punch. “Your bullets don’t work on me, pal.”

He turns as if to run, but your leg immediately darts out to trip him, and he tumbles forward onto the boards of Solomon’s hut with a muffled yell. This time you plant your foot directly on his neck, setting a single hand on your hip.

“I’m only going to say this once,” You begin, staring him dead in the eyes. “So listen up - got it?”

The man attempts to protest, but your heel only presses harder into his throat, and he has no choice but to give his gurgled assent. You smile, but it’s a menacing expression.

“This game is under my protection,” You say firmly. “You don’t come in here and start threatening to shoot up the place - and you most definitely don’t point the gun at my partner. Got it?”

He gurgles again. You nod in satisfaction. “Then we’re all in understanding here. Now scram.”

You lift your foot, and he immediately fumbles to get to his feet. You stay on your toes, prepared for him to attempt to go for his guns again, but he only gives you one last terrified look before turning and booking it out the door, tail between his legs.

You stare after him at the swinging door. The hut is silent for a moment more.

Finally, Levi says, eyes wide, “I think that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

#unedited #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd leviathan #swd solomon #swd lucifer #swd simeon #swd belphie #swd luke #leviathan x reader #levi x reader #wreck it ralph au #fluff #arcade #not sure how i feel about this one??? but eh

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julietnterein · 4 years ago

Text

•| Violacea I. chp. 13 |•

It was exactly five days after my incident, when I heard a small knock on my door. Dinner was supposed to be in an hour and I wasn't really expecting anyone.

„Friday?” I ask the AI while i sit on the bed and close the book I was just diving into. I have to stretch my muscles as I can feel them being a little sore after today's training with Natasha.

„It's Miss Maximoff, ma'am.” Says Friday.

„Let her in.” I nod towards the door as they automatically open and Wanda gives me a small smile even before she steps into my room.

„Are you busy?” She asks me as she leans into the doorframe.

I look at the book that I was trying to read and then back at Wanda: „Well, not really.”

„Cool, get up then. We have some training to do.” She doesn't give me a chance to protest or anything, so with a confused face I get up, grabbed my hoodie and followed her into the gym.

„Where is everyone?” I ask when no one is joining us for the ride in the elevator.

„It's just you and me.” She pressed the button with a small smile on her face.

„What do you mean?” I ask her, confused even more.

„I'm gonna help you with your powers.” She nods at me to assure me that everything's going to be okay.

I don't ask any other questions as her strict and determined face stops me midway.

No one from the team really knew about the training that I was taking with Wanda. She was trying really hard, we were taking baby steps, which as we realized after a week, really made progress. I was able absorb and hold the energy in my right hand, but that was where it ended. Even after a couple days I wasn't able to move from there, it was all I could do. Wanda was really supportive and was telling me that we already made a really big progress, but I was growing restless and annoyed. I felt unmotivated, we made such a great progress and now I was stuck.

„Let's leave it.” Says Wanda as she interrupts my hard trying. „Dinner is gonna be in five, we have to go.” She tried again, when she realizes that I want to try again and push my powers to the edge, which would probably end up, once again, catastrophically.

I sighed annoyed and angry at myself as I let my hand fall back to my side.

Wanda tries to smile at me as we walk towards the elevator. But I'm still mad at myself so I punch the button a little too much and she backs up a little.

„I haven't seen Clint for a while.” I say suddenly as we are two stories away from the common room. He wasn't in the gym with us for at least four days.

„I feel like he is on some kind of mission or something.” Says Wanda as we both step out from the elevator and then we continue our way silently. We walk through the hall before we realize that someone is really loudly arguing in the dining room.

„… We don't really know, we lost contact a while ago.” I hear Bruce's voice.

„And you are telling us now, why exactly?!” I hear Natasha's voice with a hint of something I haven't heard from her yet. She was panicking.

„We weren't sure if he didn't do it on purpose, maybe because he didn't want to jeopardize the mission.” Explains Bruce.

A long pause in their conversation is when I realize that both, me and Wanda, has stopped in our tracks, quietly listening to their conversation.

„Alright, tonight we will go to the last coordinates we heard from Clint.” Says Steve suddenly. „There is no need for the whole team to be there. It will be me, Pietro and Natasha, of course.”

„Maybe you could take Andreea.” Says Tony out of nowhere.

„Have you lost your mind?” Growl Steve as he is starting to lose his temper. „Do you even understand how much damage she could do and how much of a civilist we would put into danger if she would have lost her control?” I can feel Wanda's hand as she squeezes my shoulder quietly.

„And we also don't know how dangerous it could be for her.” Adds Natasha.

„Alright, alright… I get it, calm down, old man.” Admits Tony. Weird, from him I would expect much more fighting for something he wants.

„Okay, it's going to be quick. In and out, that's it.” End Steve the whole conversation.

Me and Wanda stayed quiet in the hall for a moment before we step into the room, like we just didn't ears dropped to their whole argument.

Even though all of them really tried, the atmosphere was thick and could have been cut with a knife. Bucky and Sam were really reserved and I haven't heard any of them have any snarky comments towards each other and Pietro was weirdly silent the whole time. I didn't know how close he and Clint were until Wanda told me that they both always have each other's back and that they are the initiators of most of the pranks on the rest of the team.

After dinner I make my way to the kitchen to help Wanda with the dishes but Tony grabs my forearm really quickly and steals me away from everyone. He drags me by arm into one of his labs, where Bruce is already waiting.

„What's going on?” I ask right away as I rub the place on my arm where Tony was gripping my arm.

Both of them exchange a nervous look before Tony starts talking: „I sent Clint on the mission, because that hideout is supposed to be filled with information about technology that I won't be boring the little head of yours.” I frown at him. „It's complicated and definitely not important at the moment. We think he is being held hostage, which we will leave to the rescue team upstairs.” He nodded up towards the place where dining was. ��But you…” He points his finger at me. „I want you to bring me these folders, because if they fall into bad hands… you have no idea in what mess we will be.” He nods at. „Like total mess, probably like fall of our governments and total chaos on earth kind of mess, get me?”

„Yeah, I think I do.” I nod a little taken aback with all this.

„Don't worry, Andreea, I know this all is new for you, but Tony is right. If it's gonna fall into the wrong hands we would be screwed.” Adds Bruce.

„So these folders… They are really really important then?” I ask once again, as I'm not sure if I want to stand against Captain in that and ruin the fragile bond, that is almost non existing, but is there somewhere between us. „But I have never done anything like this… I'm not even sure I know how-...”

„You won't be alone.” Interrupts the voice of the silver haired man, that just appeared in the doorway.

„Why am I not surprised.” I shake my head. „Why can't we tell the others?” I ask all three of them.

„Well… Natasha would want to get Clint home no matter what it costs and Rogers is… Well, Rogers.” Explains Tony.

„Plus Tony made some accessories for that he would like to see in action.” Adds Bruce.

„Yeah, that's true as well.” Smiles Tony. „I saw how you and Wanda trains, so I made you a uniform. Friday, please…” He call for the AI, that opens a wall where the uniform appears on hangers. Basic black unitard, nothing special, strengthened in places like knees or spine.

„Well this is mostly an armour so no one shoots you dead.” Says Tony, like he just didn't assume someone will be probably shooting at me. „But look at… this.” He grabs a huge box where a large knives are lying. „Look at the grip, it's made exactly for you and your powers, you can absorb your energy and then let it flow into the knives, so it became a deathly weapon whenever you want.”

„They seem deathly to me, even without my powers.” I mumble quietly.

„They look sharp as hell.” Nods Pietro.

„Well you are both right.” Admits Tony. And then he takes one knife out and makes his way towards the uniform. „And by the way, they are made exactly to fit into your uniform.” He shows me how the knives stick into the places thanks to the strong magnets. „But it has a lot of things and technologies I installed, which you will get along with when you start using them. We don't have time for that now.” Says Tony and a long silence stretches across the room.

Pietro looks at me with a huge grin on his face.

„Let's kick some asses then?”

Chp. 14

TAG LIST:

@littlegasps @multi-images @fandomlover8020

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x oc #violacea #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x oc #tony star x oc #tony stark x reader #pietro maximoff x sibling!oc #pietro maximoff x sister!reader #pietro maximoff x oc #pietro maximoff x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x oc #wandamaximoff x sibling!oc #wandamaximoff x oc #wanda maximoff x sister!reader

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

Note

Okay but vamp!harry x reader where the reader goes for a late night walk alone because she’s feeling anxious (Harry tries to insist on coming with but she says no) but soon he can sense somethings wrong and goes to look for her and finds her in a dangerous situation! I need protective vampire Harry 🥺

Disclaimer: Reader with ADHD, Vampire!H x fem!reader, cock warming.

Harry's been doing humanly things. Moreso trying for his little human whom he doesn't want to dissapoint when she's making ećlairs or pop tarts for him and all he knows is to eat them despite of being a helping hand. His fingers are magical —--- they relax her in the most livid way while he's feeding from her. Honestly, it's all she wants. Her making sweets for him and him pleasuring her in the most bizarre way.

But. Sometimes she get's emotionally exhausted that the physical activities looks like breaking a mountain for her and all she does is snuggle under the snoozy layers of her childhood blankets cuddling her cat to calm her down.

Now her tranquility is Harry.

It's one of those days. She's been feeling like a failure. An utter dimwit for not getting what's happening in her sociology class, why her neighbours are always grumpy with her and why she isn't able to study anything. It's depressing her.

Harry never left her side. She's like a honey gooed all over him not even letting him bring the pizzas he ordered for them, "Don't!" She squeaks in a weak voice catching his wrists and he sits back cupping the nape of her neck looking straight in her eyes to assure her with his whole existence, "'ey baby . . my sweet girl 'm not goin' anywhere. Delivery boy's been waiting outside -- just a mo', yeah?" He sponges a gentle kiss at her temple stroking her cheek to calm her down.

They've rented a VR receiver and alot of silver movies watching them while eating pizza. She giggles and Harry smiles goofily when he had to hit the receiver twice to make it work, "c'mon you should know how all of this work old man." He strides towards her pulling her up with armpits into his embrace and tickling hard.

"Old man huh!? Ol' ma —" He pretends to eat her whole and she squeals between her laughs, "'m sorry you're my man!" Huffs smugly giving her a breather and pecks her not twice but thrice. If he could kiss her all day. He would. She's his human. It surprises him sometimes when he's alone with his thoughts. He loves her to fucking bits and pieces.

When she's like this everyone and everything feels outta her reach. As if they're miles away from her and she's standing in barren cold. In the amidst of sappy movie she shrinks closer to him stuffing her face into his ribs wounding her leg around his abdomen and he makes her feel warm wrapping his arms around her to push her up on his thigh. Snapping his gaze down at her when the lil sniffs of her reached his ears, "What's wrong kitten . . . hurts to see ya like this baby. Love you so much." He never fails to promise that he loves her to core.

"'M jus . . . thinking tha –-- that when I'll die you'll be still here 'n . . . 'n y'would get so lonely." She hiccups without a break, "Dunno. Can't stop crying 'm sorry." She gives out an ugly sob into his chest. It's breaking his already feeble heart. God he could scream the affection to the moon he have for this girl. In such a tragic moment all she is thinking is about him.

He cups squishes both her cheeks with his calloused palms telling her to breath with slow gestures then when she's way better speaks in his softest voice, "My baby listen to me hmm? We're never thinking of future don't wan'ye to wreck ye'r beautiful brain for stupid deaths --- secondly too bad miss Y/N 'm gonna cling to ye like leech of your nightmares." He wipes her tears away ever so caringly and gives her eskimo kisses while she giggles snorting at the end when Harry brought his big goldfish orbs in the middle to make her laugh.

"'M glad to have you." She whispers smudging her wet lips softly against his's into a heart melting blood warming kiss and Harry shushes her when she whines clutching the hem of his sweater, "bite me? She asks politely rather than being batty as for she was being within past days rilling him upto extreme to get her neck and skin sprinkled with hickeys that turns into bites.

"Don't wanna hurt ye', lovie." He pushes her hair away peering down at her with pleading worried eyes, "you wouldn't. promise." He nods flushing her against his chest positioning her head into the crook of his neck. Making her hug him like a koala bear.

Rubs her back. Pats her hair. Sways her along him rather than the seductive warnings he used to give her. He's afraid. She's too fragile at the moment. He'd never forgive himself if something will happen to her, "'m gonna bite. Stop me if ye' don't want it o' hurts." He runs his palms at her sides making her all squirmy.

He pushes her fangs ever so gently to her sweet spot. If she's made of glass making her moan and tight her grip around him warming up his cock in his trousers. It's not always about you dumber. He scolds himself. Suckling lightly and pulling back in a pinch of moment. It's the first time he has almost pretended to drink from her. She's all sleepy in his hold. He carries her to bed and when tries to untangle himself so he could turn the telly off she whines not letting him.

Despite of these much blankets she's still feeling cold. From inside. It feels empty and she isn't liking it at all. Writhes and squirms causing Harry to ask, "ye okay there lovie'?" When she shakes her head with glassy eyes and a pout he understands.

"Cold." Is all she had to say and he's guessing the next, "in ye'r tummy?" When she bobs her head confirming he sighs softly pulling the elastic of his trousers down to free his dick getting rid of the item woving his calves with her, thighs between thighs and places a firm hand on her back moving his thumb into circles non-stop.

"Oh me lil dovlin' c'mere . . want me cock to warm ye up baby? 'S okay s' okay darlin'." He murmurs against her lips tugging at his foreskin hissing when the head of his thick cock gets pushed between their bellys due to approximty. Precome oozes from his strokes and he takes her panties off swiping his crown over her hole to lubricate her. Wounds his arm around the nape of her neck to lap at her mouth swallowing her whines and cries while sliding inside her compact walls twisting his stomach awfully, "shhh. shhh baby love. I got ya. Gonna take care of ye ---- try to sleep. I'll be waiting fo' ye in the morning." Once, situating himself deep and snug inside her. He keeps on embracing her like a little baby.

Next morning though she woke up happy. Harry made her brekkie. Special smiley pancakes with heart shaped eyes from the little strawberry toppings. He really took advantage of his time while she was snoring her ass off. A peach smoothie and cashewnuts. Fed Meowsie. Gave her his morning lovin'. They had the meal together.

He helped her learn some of her course. Then in afternoon made lunch together egg fried rice and stirred vegetables Y/N went to give some of it to their neighbours. Lady Nat asked her if she's okay cause she has stopped stomping in her flat and it made her feel good, weirdly.

Maybe it's seasonal sadness that she couldn't get out of it. Harry's in the kitchen cleaning up shelves when he hears the rustle of carpet. He peeks from the wall to find her pooling into a big hoodie and slipping into her shoes. He frowns throwing the rag away to walk towards her immediately, "where ye' goin' lovie? Ye' okay what happened?" He runs his hands over her shoulders to her hair making her meet his eyes.

She nods squeezing his wrists, "don't worry just wanna . . . take a walk — clear my head." Hearing this he quickly moves to wear his jacket.

"'M goin' with you." He declares and she knows if that'll happen she wouldn't be able to, "No. Alone." She fumbles with the strings of her hoodie. He sighs not fond of the idea brows knighting together thumbing at her jaw with concern screaming in his eyes.

"Can I mark you then?" He asks knowing what hides in the shadows of outside; creatures evil than his entire existence. He doesn't want to make her feel like she owes him explanations for her each and every movement but gosh does it scare him to his bones. She's the only person who could make him weak into knees and a mesh of puddle at the thought of even the thorn pricking her, "okie." She cranes her neck and it still amuses him she's exactly how she was when he first met her. That gentle rose under the moon meant for Harry to care and water with love.

After adorning her with a crimson mark and little peck he tugs her closer hooking his nose to her hair taking a good sniff of her cocoa scent, "keep your phone in ye' hand and don't walk through the cherry street." There's nothing there but stray dogs that she's afraid of. It's better he advises her.

"Ai. Ai captain!" She salutes him stomping her feet and he chuckles kissing her cheek wet-ly, "Go before I change me mind."

He wanted it not to creep it to his mind but it's not helping AT ALL. He's been restless and it's been fifteen minutes since she has left. He's sitting sunk into sofa with Meowsie snuggled under his chin while he shakes his knees, cracks his knuckles, combs his hair and groans into his palms. In short throwing tantrum like a toddler missing her already and constantly worrying about her. Something doesn't feel right at all. That gut wrenching horror of losing her biting him alive.

He mutters a fuck it going to look for her and bring her back home. He was right. He has always been. Good at instincts. For fuck's sake. He's a vampire!

Y/N was walking along the path which's the lead way to a park when a dark vibe gloomed over her head. The next she knows is she's being pinned to a wall with demonic eyes snatching at her soul: it takes her breath away outta horror.

"No wonder why Harry kisses the earth you walk on." He chuckles darkly accent an old Scottish and she gulps eyes stinging with tears, "I would to . . if I get to drink such sweet ripe blood." Her eyes widens when his fangs pokes out from his gums glistening under the lamp light.

She tries to kick him in balls to get rid of his painful grip when an angry growl echoes towards them loudly and the person who had her trapped wooshes from her sight in a bolt to ground making her shriek.

"She's not a fuckin' feeder stay the fuck away from her!!" Harry grits spitting venom. Choking the person under him, "tol' ya she's my girl and I'll shred everyone alive if they'll even breath in her direction." She has never seen him this furious. Tone harsh and snappy she never heard coming from him it makes her cry.

He had warned his fellows when the news of him spread that he has bonded to human. But well they've thick skulls.

The man under him just smirks pushing him away and coughing into his elbow standing up. "Whatever thought sharing is caring, Styles." Harry glares him resentfully. Fisting a punch at his side but stables himself when a dainty hand wraps around his fingers clutching tight.

He turns ducking down to her level cupping her cheeks and tries to examine her for any kind of injury, "ye' okay? Did he hurt you? Tell me and — " she rubs her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie shaking her head vigorously.

"No. 'M fine sorry should've listened to you." He puffs out a breath of guilt letting his forehead fall against her's, "don't be sorry -- it's none of ye'r fault baby."

"Glad you're safe." He whispers hugging her with the sway of bodies, "I love you." She tells him honestly tip-toeing to kiss him and it unfortunately reaches his silky jaw only.

"And all the things you do for me." He grins down at her. He lives on praises. The cheeky bastard.

"How about eatin' ice-cream while taking swings in the park?" He intertwines their hands warmly kissing her knuckles and she quips excitedly, "sounds great!"

AN: idk why read more button isn't working sorry for the bug.

#harry styles smut #anon request #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry angst #dom harry #harry styles vampire smut #vamp!h #vampire harry

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teacup-crow · 3 years ago

Text

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I��m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

#wolf 359 #bad things happen bingo #Daniel Jacobi #isabel lovelace #w359

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Until the End of the World - 20

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1640

Rating: E

Warnings: Hospitals, breastfeeding, nothing major

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 20

Steve was dozing when one of the babies started to cry. He was up and out of bed as the second one’s cries joined the first and you and Bucky stirred and sat up. He’d slept lightly - his mind full of thoughts about Geo, Gal, and his daughter. He had juggled all the options as he’d seen them. Lying and saying Gal was his. Trying to adopt him legally. Finding his family and returning them. He considered the best-case scenarios and the worst-case ones. That with the lingering worry about keeping you and Geo safe, and expunging all records of you from any databases they might have left, did not lend itself to a good night’s sleep. Steve picked up the little boy first, he was crying louder and his face was screwed up and changing color. “Hey little one,” he soothed, bouncing him a little. “I bet you don’t know what’s what.”

Bucky moved beside him and picked up his daughter. “Guess we change them and try to feed them?”

“Gal might need a bottle,” you said as Steve took the infant to the changing table. “I don’t know if I should breastfeed him or not… I mean people do that right? Wet nurses used to be a thing. But then… my milk hasn’t come in yet, and he’d already be having milk, and I’m barely making colostrum.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Steve assured you. “I’ll get one of the staff to bring in a bottle. FRIDAY?”

“It’s on its way,” the AI confirmed.

Bucky finished changing the girl and brought her over to you. You adjusted the back of the bed so that you could lean on it while sitting up and put a pillow in your lap before taking her from Bucky. Geo grumbled and tried to readjust. The babies had well and truly woken him, but he seemed to be trying to ignore that the world existed anywhere else except tucked into your side, safe-and-sound.

As you attempted to get the baby to latch a nurse came in with a bottle. “Here you are, Captain Rogers,” she said, handing it over. She turned her attention to you and began to fuss around you. “Do you need help?”

“Yes, please,” you agreed. “It’s been a while.”

The nurse helped you to get the infant latched as Steve sat down and began to feed Gal his bottle. When she left again Steve looked over to you.

“We have some things we need to arrange,” he said.

You looked over at him, the alarm you were feeling was written all over your face. “She asked me to take care of him.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve said. “I know, and we will. But I’ve been thinking about it, and as much as lying and saying you had twins sounds like a quick fix, it’s something that is easily disproved, and it takes his history away from him. You were worried about taking John’s connection away from Geo. Shouldn’t we let Gal grow up knowing as much about his background as he can know his parents too? His mom died trying to protect you all. She should be honored and remembered too.”

You frowned and looked over at the little boy in Steve’s arms. “What if they take him from us?”

Steve looked down at the baby in his arms and frowned slightly. The worst-case scenario in his head was that they took him and ended up accidentally giving him straight to HYDRA. He would do what he needed to, to prevent that from happening, but he wanted to trust the system to trust him given he had given so much of himself to protect it. “Sweetheart,” he said gently. “If you and Bucky decide that we should lie and say he’s biologically ours - that you gave birth to twins - I won’t fight it. I’ll do whatever I can to protect that secret. But if this little boy has family, they have a right to know about him, and maybe - maybe, keeping him safe means letting him be raised by them.”

You frowned and caressed your daughter's cheek, as you seemed to process the words. You looked over to Bucky who was sitting quietly watching you both. “What do you think, Buck?”

“I think…” he said slowly. “I think Steve makes some good points. There’s definitely a risk, but if we do lie and they find out, we could lose all the kids.”

“Alright,” you agreed and shifted the baby to the other breast. “We need to make sure he’s safe, no matter what.”

“We will. If the worst-case happens, and the powers that be decide we aren’t a suitable home, we’ll make sure the family that takes him is vetted by Wanda, and no record of where he came from follows him to where he goes.”

You frowned and nodded. “Okay. Well, how do we do this?”

“We sometimes work with a lawyer,” Steve said. “He’s a defense attorney but he understands the position we’re in and is pretty good at arguing it in court. He might be able to help with this a little or at least recommend someone who can. In the meantime, I’ve had FRIDAY looking into this little guy’s family.” He sits Gal up and puts his empty bottle to the side and while he supports his head, he gently rubbed the infant’s back until he burped. “At least then we know where we stand.”

“Right,” you said, putting your breast away. Bucky got up and took the baby from your arms and you began cuddling Geo. “Okay. I guess we better do that.”

“FRIDAY?” Steve said, looking up. “Have you found anything?”

“I am still checking all possible leads,” she said. “But from my searching of the files we obtained from HYDRA, participants were selected in the initial trial based on a lack of family ties. From what I gather the child’s biological father was raised in foster care and changed homes at least a dozen times.”

You furrowed your brow and Steve looked over at you. “Is that true? Is that why you never spoke about your family?”

“I didn’t know about the others. I know John was an only child whose parents died in a car accident when he was seventeen. And I was raised by my grandparents. My grandpa died when I was twelve, and my grandma when I was nineteen. I don’t know who my father even is, and my mother is around, but I don’t speak to her,” you explained. “I guess the difference was enough to not draw the link.”

“It makes sense,” Bucky said. “They were doing some pretty intense human trials. If something went wrong, then they good make you disappear and no one would be there to ask questions.”

“If Gal has no family, that might make it easier,” Steve said. “We’ll keep looking into things, but we’ll do this the right way. We need to lodge a birth certificate for him, which isn’t going to be easy either.”

The three of you fell silent for a little while. It was a weighty silence, full of anxiety and unspoken worries. This was Steve’s family now and as much as he wanted to protect them, he was beginning to fear he wouldn’t be able to.

“There’s something else we need to decide,” Bucky said, cutting through the heavy silence.

You and Steve both looked over at him curiously and Bucky smiled down at the little girl in his arms. “We still haven’t picked her name.”

“We were tossing up Rebecca or Sarah,” you said. “Does she look like one more than the other?”

Steve moved and sat on the edge of the bed beside you and Geo. He rubbed the boy's back gently. “What do you think, Geo? What does she look more like to you?”

Geo poked his head out from your side for the first time and looked over at Bucky with the baby. He furrowed his brow like he was really considering it. “Ember.”

“Ember?” Steve asked.

“We didn’t even consider that one,” you added.

Geo’s lip began to quiver and he hid back in your side. The stress of everything obviously making it too hard for him to be questioned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve said. “We didn’t say no, we’re just thinking about it.”

“It might be good for her to have her own name, without the burden of living up to anyone,” Bucky said.

“I kinda like how it’s related to fire,” you said. “Geo is earth, Ember is fire.”

Steve smiled and rubbed Geo’s side. “That is a nice theme. Gal doesn’t really fit it though.”

“What does Gal mean?” Bucky asked.

“Gal is a Hebrew name meaning ‘wave’,” FRIDAY responded. “As in waves in the ocean.”

The three of you looked at each other with your jaws dropped open. “That feels like fate,” you said.

As much as Steve resisted the idea of fate, there were too many things that had happened to him that let him ignore it. The fact that he and the boy he had grown up loving were both sitting here in a relationship when they should both dead and buried was one huge example of it. He wasn’t going to ignore it now.

“I think you’re right, Geo,” Steve said. “I think she’s an Ember too.”

Geo sat up and smiled looking over at his sister.

“Ember sounds a little better with Rebecca than Sarah,” you added. “Is that okay with both of you?”

Bucky’s face lit up and that alone sold Steve on the name. “Sounds perfect,” he said. “Ember Rebecca Barnes-Rogers.”

You leaned over and kissed him gently, your lips softly grazing over his. He vowed in that moment, that no one would ever threaten his family again. He’d personally make sure of it.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #until the end of the world

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