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softquietsteadylove · 1 year ago

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For the Maleficent AU: Thena snuck away on her own to a village to watch the humans. Days after Gil noticed that her behavior is odd so he investigates and then Thena admits that she snuck away and got shot and that the iron bullet is still sticking in her body.

"Dammit!"

Gil frowned as he landed at the lower level of the mothernest interior. When he was checking that everything was okay, he didn't expect to see a figure huddled around the healing pools. It was far later in the day than anyone would usually be here. "Hello?"

The figure startled, and he could recognise those sparkling white wings anywhere. "G-Gil?"

"Thena," he frowned, stepping a little closer on the mossy ground around the pools. He was careful, but he could see the skirt of her dress pooled around her bent legs on the ground, even though she was holding her wings around herself protectively. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I-I'm fine," she smiled, although she was still letting her wings somewhat hide herself from him. "I just...got something on my dress. I thought I would try to use the cold salt water to remove it."

"Right," he murmured, trying to apprise himself of the situation. "The healing pools might not be as good as the shore waters for that."

"Right."

Gil stood a respectful distance away, crossing his arms as Thena made no move to leave the warm salt springs around them either. He sighed, settling his wings comfortably. "What happened, Thena?"

"Nothing," she tried to deny, but her breath was short and choppy, and those long, lithe shoulders of hers weren't moving right.

"Show me," he urged, stepping closer. She remained huddled over herself. "Let me help."

She stayed still for a little longer, her wings rustling against the mossy ground at their feet. "You can't tell anyone."

Gilgamesh wasn't sure how he felt about potentially keeping something that could very mean her being injured to himself, but he agreed. He moved closer, crouching down behind her, with her wings between them. "Please, Thena?"

She sighed, and slowly her shimmering feathers drew away from his view, revealing a splotch of red in the side of her white dress too large to ignore. She really had been trying to clean it.

"When did this happen?" Gil asked immediately, moving closer, ducking his head under her wing as he tried to see if it was still actively bleeding.

"I-" she began and hesitated for another second. "I was flying to the farms."

The farms were quite far inland, and they never went unless it was on a peace convoy with a full guard and protection detail.

"Someone must have seen me, and..." she trailed off, letting him move her hair over her shoulder. She winced as he moved her arm. "They didn't shoot me down but it-it just won't heal."

"Thena," Gil gulped, his hands on her delicate shoulders. Her skin was so soft, and so pale, like her feathers. "Can I, uh--just enough for me to see, okay?"

She had already accepted her defeat, it seemed. She nodded, letting him un-knot the strap of her dress at her shoulder and let the back of it come down around her side. Even her ribs were perfectly sculpted.

Gil frowned, too preoccupied with the iron burn along her side to worry about her state of undress. "Thena, it's still in you?"

"I-" she winced again as she attempted to turn and look at him. "I can't get it out."

"Okay, hey, it's all right," he shushed her, trying to get her breathing even again. He rushed to tie her dress properly again. Even the sight of her back half bare was too much for him. "Here."

Thena nearly whimpered as he helped her onto her feet and towards the caves. "I've been managing it thus far."

"I don't know how," he muttered, not at all pleased by the thought of her walking around with an injury to this degree. He let her lean on him as he walked her away from any prying eyes. "How have your brothers not found out?"

"Druig is with Makkari day and night, it seems," she sighed as the scent of the healing pools' deeper well reached her nose. "Ikaris, all I have to do is stand to his left."

Gil rolled his eyes. Druig was fine, but that other brother of hers...

"Gil," Thena attempted to plead with him, seeing what his intention was. "I don't think-"

"Thena," he frowned, steps away from lowering her into the healing spring himself. "You need to submerge it, and for more than a few minutes."

"I only came because Ikaris is hunting with Kingo," she argued with him, the warmth of the saltwater practically glowing at her from the ground. "I have to get back."

"You need to not walk around with an iron bullet in your ribcage!"

Thena blinked, completely surprised by the even marginal rise in his voice's volume. Her wings trembled on her back faintly, but she didn't wrench herself away from him. She tilted her head, "is that an order?"

He sighed; if she were part of his perimeter detail or guard team, then maybe. But he softened, running his hand down her arm until he could take her hand in his. "No, it's not. It's just something you can do to put my heart at ease."

Thena looked terribly torn. She had her own reasons for trying to keep this injury of hers contained. It was bad for the delegation, it was bad for human-fae relations, and it was bad for their reputation if people thought they could get shot out of the sky while flying.

It was bad if her brothers thought their only family in the world was hurt.

"Do you intend to undress me yourself?"

Gil huffed, turning around as his face became unbearably hot. He even spread his wings out, "very funny."

Thena's laughter was softer, but it echoed around the cave interior. "I am ruffling your feathers, Gil, nothing more. I know you would never."

He blocked out the sound of her light and breezy dress slipping off her body and onto the cave floor. He cleared his throat, "okay, okay, just get in the healing bath."

Thena hissed and then whimpered as she submerged herself properly, something she had probably avoided since she was first injured.

"You okay?" he asked, instinctively wanting to check on her but forbidding himself from even moving his head remotely in her direction.

"I'm fine," she uttered, but it did sound less strained than when she was huddled around the healing pools outside and trying to both bathe her wound and clean her dress at the same time.

"I wouldn't say you're fine," he growled, but tried not to start raging about how serious her injury really was, despite the way she was acting.

"Gil," she chided him before he had even said anything, "they were trying to protect themselves."

He snorted at her defense of the humans. "They can protect themselves with regular arrows. They don't need iron bullets the size of a walnut."

"What's done is done," she concluded, and he could hear the sound of her cupping her hands and letting the water run over herself. "There's no use imagining what could have happened differently."

Gil stayed quiet. He wouldn't win an argument with her about the humans. For how unsocial she was, she really was protective of those stupid walking fleshbags. "How did you fly home?"

"Slowly."

That made him even angrier--the thought of Thena hauling herself home, desperately using the air currents and the size of her wings to bring her injured body back to the nest. How had no one else noticed?!

"No one knows, Gil," she said quietly, going still in the water. "I wasn't intending on telling anyone."

He frowned to himself, letting himself turn his head faintly just to catch the sheer black of his wings in his periphery. He rustled them gently, "That's what bothers me the most."

Thena was quiet again, and he supposed he wouldn't expect her to have an answer to that. He continued to stand guard, although no one used the healing pools when it was late (they were too cold, then). But he was hardly going to let someone stumble upon something they shouldn't.

"I would have told you."

She sounded like a young faerie admitting to something only after the fact. Her contrition made her voice heavy. "I wanted to heal up just a little before I told you--so I could prove it wasn't dire and that there would be no need for action."

Gil made a face just for himself, "you mean so I wouldn't freak out and go track down the human that shot you?"

"You don't know it was a human."

"I don't know any other species that uses stuff like that."

Thena laughed, although it was still a little hollow and breathless. "I suppose you're right. But perhaps if we were as helpless as they are, we would be just as afraid."

Gil was not afraid of any human. Even if he had to take one of those iron monstrosities on for himself. He would face one down happily to look into the eye of the human that had done this to (his) Thena.

"Ah!"

Gil nearly leapt and flapped his wings in reaction to the noise. He still didn't want to look at her in any state of undress, but he stared hard into the opaque wall of his black feathers. "What happened!?"

"It's okay, it's okay," she panted faintly, but her voice was indeed stronger, "it's out. The saltspring is working."

Well, that was a relief. One of the best assets of this particular mothernest - home to so many biomes and nests within it - was its proximity to the healing springs. Ajak valued their medicinal properties greatly, after all.

"You were right," Thena conceded, which he got the feeling didn't happen often. "I should have just come here sooner, saved myself the trouble of secrecy."

"Well, yeah, I was right." She huffed, just loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled, "but I know you didn't want your brothers to freak out. Hard to slip away for too long with both of them around, right?"

"Dreadfully," she sighed much easier this time.

"Tell you what," Gil smiled, maybe a little too relieved now that Thena was actually on her way to better health. "I'll show up at your nest every morning this week to ask you to join me on 'convoys' inland. But you've gotta come down here and soak that wound of yours."

"Gil-"

"It's iron, Thena," he scowled straight ahead at the opening of the cave, "it's not going to be completely healed overnight. And you don't want them to know, so it's this or I bring you the spring water and tell them about it myself."

"Fine."

#Thenamesh Maleficent AU #Thena hobbling around all week like #I'm fine #and her numbskull brothers like okay #Druig would have noticed #but she put extra effort into hiding it with him #and constantly told him to go find Makkari #Ikaris was a little dimmer about it #but she comes back tonight and is like I'm going to bed by the way Gil will be here in the morning night!#Ikaris is like wait why?#she says oh it's a diplomacy thing #he'll be...escorting her #Ikaris is a little more suspicious but okay #Gil goes to Ajak for medicinal herbs and asks Sersi about iron treatments #they ask if he was hurt and he's like no just curious thanks #Gil always stands guard outside the spring at the front of the caves #some dud comes down like man my back is killing me #Gil: go somewhere else

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 10 months ago

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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 44 - Investigator Daniel. Episode 2.

Daniel: Few minutes later we made it up the stairs to the living room next door, expecting to find Robert alone and miserable, however, that was not the sight we walked in on!!! On the big black leather couch in the middle of the living room… Robert was planted but naked, sitting up, moaning loud and satisfied as no one else but Miss Diamondsfuckingheart was riding him! Butt naked as well, moaning just as loud

Evan: He turned more or less grey in his face… if that color is even possible on a man who always has natural tanned skin tone?

Daniel: I admit I froze a bit… well at least until she leaned backwards and I observed Robert plant his hands on her boobs, squeezing them

Evan: DAD!!!! He almost squealed the word out, and his usual deep and sensual voice was now high pitch borderline girly

Robert: Looked behind him and quickly pushed Sparkle off him, which landed on the floor with a loud bump

Sparkle: Yelped as the bump both hurt her and startled her at the same time

Robert: It's not what it looks like!!

Daniel: I grinned wide… what a classic

Robert: Repeated himself and stood up, butt naked, boner still standing and all

Evan: Pointed at his dads naked body tell me dad, what does this look like?

Robert: I can explain!

Evan: Groaned I really don't need any details… I just need you to put some clothes on. Both of you!

Sparkle: Judging by the rumbling behind the couch she was already trying her hardest to get dressed

Robert: She came here looking for you he looked at me with an apologizing look on his face She couldn't sleep after you dropped her off at home…

Evan: Dad!

Robert: She was lonely… I was lonely too…

Daniel: Aint that how the story always goes Robert?

Robert: We got to talking…

Evan: DAD!

Robert: One thing led to another as we opened a bottle of wine…

Evan: DAAAD!!!

Robert: I apologize Evan, but she has nice firm boobs…

Daniel: Woah woah woah Robbie… those are my boobs!

Sparkle: EXCUSE ME? She got up faster than I had expected! And not happy judging by the look on her face… oops! Last I checked they were attached to MY body and not yours, which makes them MINE!!! So they are for me to make decisions for, NOT YOU DANIEL!

Daniel: Good thing I anticipated next step at least, and was able to duck fast as she threw a shoe at my face… Evan was not quite as lucky though, as it hit him straight in the forehead, made him stumble two steps backwards and bump on his ass down on the floor

Evan: GET OUUUUUT!!!!

Congo: What's going on here?

Daniel: Now THAT I did not anticipate!

Congo: He sighed deeply as he noticed half naked Sparkle and still butt naked Robert You know, I had a feeling I should follow up on Evan and Daniel going over here… I'm certainly glad I listened to my guts. He frowned at them, and in two big steps made his way to Evan, kneeling down next to him, and quickly placed Evan's head in his big palms Daniel, make yourself useful and get me some ice!… and wipe that stupid grin of your face while you're at it!

Daniel: How did he know? He didn't even look at me!

Congo: Sparkle… you get dressed and go home.

Sparkle: NO!

Congo: Slowly raised his head, and the soft gaze he had turned towards Evan, now turned into an expression I had only rarely seen on the big guys face. Anger. No?

Sparkle: No. I'm tired of being treated like the child! Gizmo and Jenna are younger than me, but they get treated as equals! You all treat me like I'm still a kid! Well, Robert didn't! For once I got treated like a woman! I'm not leaving! I can make my own decisions… and today Robert happens to be what I chose, and I'm sticking with it!

Congo: I'm happy to see you can make your own choices. And right now, I strongly advice you… TO CHOOSE TO LEAVE!!! His voice was loud and roaring, and reminded me of the beast in beauty and the beast when he first time roars at Belle for going into the tower and nearly destroying the enchanted rose…. Yup, Sparkle has made me catch up on some Disney movies

Sparkle: NO! I am staying!

Congo: He swallowed a lot of air, and I cringed as I feared his next words would be even louder, but to my surprise I saw Evan reach up, and plant a soft hand on Congo's cheek… and instantly Congo's frowny eyebrows lifted, and his eyes turned mild and warm again, as he sighed deeply and looked back down at Evan

Daniel: What the hell man?!?! Evan just un-hulked Congo!!!

Evan: It's okay… let them… it's really not our problem…. as long as I don't have to look at them.

Congo: Smiled softly Alright… if you're sure.

Evan: I just can't be bothered, not after last night anyway he smiled softly back at Congo, then sighed from pain

Congo: How about that ice Daniel? You're dripping on the floor anyway…

Daniel: Huh? I looked down myself… I was wearing pants, and as far as I knew not even hard… surprisingly enough… maybe it was because of Congo's roaring…

Congo: The ice! Not your dick!

Daniel: Ohh

Congo: He shook his head as he grabbed the bag of ice as I handed it to him, and quickly dried it against his shirt, before gently pressing it against Evan's red forehead Is this okay?

Evan: He nodded lightly Yeah…

Robert: He sighed softly I think it might be best I pack my things and leave. I seem to…. keep causing trouble in my sons life, and that was not my intentions. As I looked at him he was fully dressed, and Sparkle was now sitting and sulking on a chair, still only half dressed, I guess she had figured there were no point as majority of us had already seen her naked, and in full action.

Evan: He looked at Congo with a small frown and shook his head lightly

Congo: No… you're staying here! He looked at Robert slowly Here we don't leave, simply because we fuck up a few times. And as I can understand on Evan, he has no problem with you and the… woman… having sex with each other. He has a problem with seeing it… or hearing about if for that matter. We are not prison guards Robert, and frankly, Sparkle is right. She can choose for herself, and so can you. If you two want to rumble it's up to you and no one else. But next time, maybe do it behind a locked door as long as you're not in your own home? Let me remind you this used to be Evan's home, although for a short while. So it is free for him to roam in and out of the house as he pleases, the least you could do is to take it to one of the bedrooms… for your sons sake.

Robert: He nodded softly Yes… I apologize… to all of you… but specially you Evan. It's just.. I got carried away… and my life with your mom has been very lonely… I really needed to feel someone… that's also why I ended up sucking

Congo: Robert! You really don't know when to stop, do you?

Robert: He sighed softly I'm sorry.

Evan: Grunted softly It's alright… my mood is too good to get spoiled today.

Robert: Oh… did something happen?

Evan: As a matter of fact yes, that's why we were stupid enough to come over here…

Robert: Oh… tell me please…

Evan: Grunted softly and nodded for Congo to remove the ice and help him up from the floor I'm having a bit of a hard time taking you serious right now dad…

Robert: I know, I apologize… he fixed his clothes a bit and ran his fingers through his hair, just like Evan would always do Let's try again, shall we?

Evan: Grunted softly and nodded at Congo to let go of him

Congo: Are you sure?… You're not dizzy are you?

Evan: Smiled at him softly No, I'm fine… thank you. He slowly made it to the little corner bar, searching few seconds for a bottle of something, and 5 glasses, quickly adding alcohol in all the glasses, handing one to each of us as he made it around the room, even Sparkle got one, well after he had forced it into her hand, and wrapped a small blanket over her shoulders to at least cover her boobs. As of last night… Andy and I are officially mates… and can now get married.

Robert: Burst out a loud cheerful sound and quickly downed the whole drink in one go, slamming the glass down on the sofa table, quickly wrapping his arms tight around Evan, squeezing him

Evan: Grunted softly Dad… please… please let me go… you smell like sex!

Robert: Oh… sorry he quickly let go of Evan and took a few steps back I'm just… congratulations! I'm just so happy for you, that's all… for all of you really! he smiled happily and I could see a few tears in his eyes as he chuckled warmly

Evan: Chuckled softly and sipped his drink Thanks dad.

Robert: So when will it be?

Evan: Oh god, I haven't decided yet… I kinda think I want to make it a secret… for Andy… I would really like to talk with you about this in private… if that's possible? But after… you know… he nodded discretely at Sparkle

Sparkle: After the filthy slut whore?

Evan: Frowned, but beside that ignored her comment I would like to include Congo, that's all…

Robert: Sure, we can do that. Maybe we could go for a walk even, I think I need some fresh air on top of this.

Congo: I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, we can stop by the house and pick up our coats on the way.

Evan: He sighed satisfied and nodded softly, then turned towards Sparkle Are you okay over there?

Sparkle: What do any of you care?!

Daniel: I got this! I got this! I proudly marched over to the girl, and before she could get to protest, I already had her hanging over my shoulder in her panties. I slapped her ass a few times and told her to shut it, before I grinned at them all and ran upstairs, quickly throwing her on the bed, and before she could get out of it, my pants were already unzipped, and I entered her with such force, I bet they could all hear her squeal from excitement. I bet even Andy next door could hear her. That's my girl!

#unicornmanes #Evan Thompson #Congo Shaw #Daniel Chase Hartwig #Robert Thompson #Sparkle Diamondsheart

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sleepy-stories · 2 years ago

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Mickey spoke to her. She sounded sweet and kind. Her voice was high-pitched but adorable as it is. Roger wished this was a dream. A dream that she could be weird as hell if she wanted to. Being able to hug and ask questions, magically have tea and cake, and just sit here for days. But she needed to answer back before she could cause even more trouble to her day.

Roger looked directly at her. “Uh, Hi I’m Roger Rabbit.” She automatically introduces herself to them but mostly to Mickey.

“Oh,” Mickey said before chuckling a little. “I’m Mickey Mo-”

Roger cut her off. “Oh I know, a lot of people outside of Toontown know you and everyone here. I think it’s obvious that I'm a new student to this wonderful school with the mention of the outside world from Toontown.”

“Really? Where are you from?” Mickey said, moving out of the way for Roger to walk in.

Roger told her as she took steps to a nearby chair and sat down in it. “I’m from Maroon City,”

Roger recalls her inner thoughts before and feels like this is a dream. This should have been a dream. But she reminded herself again it was not a dream but real life.

She quietly looked at everyone again. Seeing every detail of their unique look. From the way, they dress to stay-together hairdos. Roger wished that her hair could do that where it’s not even messy when she went out of place from her everyday look.

Roger turned to her left, Goofy sat on the desk beside her. She was taller than she expected. Roger thought the girl would be average size but not almost the same size as the door that she just entered.

How does she get into places?

However, in front of her, there were smaller friends of Goofy. Minus Mickey, who Roger just met, noticed the three crew who looked too similar. They all look like a family more in thought as siblings. But it would be rude to say that and run with it. From goofy to the piano, was Daisy, Donna who was an exchange student from Mexico, and lastly on the piano, the unlucky person in the entire school Donald Duck.

They were all different from the others in looks, color, and beauty.

How do they stay so pretty?

Then lastly, Minnie, Roger first thought that both Mickey and Minnie were dating. But there was an article that she read from a post that Minnie made saying that he was aromantic and had to explain within the same post.

She could remember that post in detail.

MinnieBowToon: I am Aromantic, Aromantic isn’t because I haven’t found the perfect person or just hateful to others. It's just that I don't feel any romantic attraction to others. (Posted at XX/XX/20XX)

Roger was proud of him for coming forward even if there are people in the comments of that post and any recent post being bigotry to him. Saying that you ruin my fantasy stories of you with themselves or with Mickey or even Daisy, surprisingly. And others said hoping this is a joke but the rest were nice enough to support.

With all the staring and remembering from what Roger knows. This dream became slightly true. But it was just chatting about each other, mentioning the music from earlier and other stuff.

Time went by for about nearly 20 minutes ahead, and Roger noticed the time. . She got up from her chair and collected her things.

She explained that she needed to leave for her next class that is 15 minutes later. “Thank you for letting me stay even if I was the one barge in without knocking,” Roger said, heading to the door.

“No problem.” Mickey waved goodbye and the others followed suit. As it was on cue.

The redhead thought it was cool but others might think it was creepy. Roger waved back and left the room.

#chapter 6 #a dark twisted toon?!#rewrite ch 6 #rewrites of ao3 #with pictures

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silentcrowsilentravens · 3 years ago

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Guess who got carried away again? Some alternative versions of this post and this post with happier endings.

Alcina Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Elena Lupu, and Daniela Dimitrescu's s/o surviving a near-death experience.

(Gender neutral).

Warnings: blood, gore, murder.

Masterlists here!

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina’s pen stills.

Hurried footfalls are growing closer to her office. If they were accompanied by other sounds—such as laughter, buzzing, and begging or screaming—she would not fret, for that would simply mean her daughters have decided to play with some unfortunate maid. However, since they are not, Alcina knows it more than likely means something is awry.

There are rapid knocks at the door.

“You may enter,” she says straight away.

A maid stumbles into the room, dipping into a bow that nearly sends her to the floor in her rush. Considering how much of a skittish little thing she is, she’s lasted a surprisingly long time. Mostly thanks to your doing. You took a liking to her not long after you first started staying in the castle.

“L-lady Dimitrescu, your partner has been injured!”

In an instant, Alcina loses her composure. “What?” She’s on her feet and the maid is flinching at the tone of her voice. “What happened?”

“I’m not certain, Lady Bela did not give any details before sending me to inform you.”

“Lead me to them.”

It takes about ten seconds for Alcina to grow impatient with the maid’s inability to move faster, pick her up by the back of her top, and have her point the way.

“It’s that room, my Lady.”

Alcina deposits her onto a chair. “Return to your duties.” Then, she pushes open the door and ducks under the frame. Four sets of eyes briefly flit to her.

You’re laying on one of the guest beds as motionless as a corpse, all three of the daughters and the Grand Chambermaid surrounding you.

The coppery scent of your blood is saturating the entire room.

Daniela and the Grand Chambermaid are trying to clean you up. There’s a steadily growing pile of red-stained towels on the floor.

Your skin is littered with claw and bite marks, some of which have left a deep enough crater to expose the white of your bones. Bela is dressing the shallow ones and Cassandra is trying to close up the rest.

“What happened?” Alcina asks a second time, tone steady but words now so quiet that they barely reach anyone’s ears.

Bela is the one who speaks. “It was a Lycan.”

"It’s not looking good, Mother,” Cassandra tells her.

Alcina…

She’s angry. If there’s any way to find the very same foul beast that did this to you, she will. She’ll skewer it and have it dumped off at the doorstep of her little brother’s eyesore of a factory.

She’s terribly worried for you. She is going to do everything in her power to make sure you don’t die. So, with that, she swallows down her emotions the best she can and starts to aid in the process of patching you up.

You remain unresponsive for the rest of the day.

As well as the day after that.

Time passes. Your heart is still beating, but not as strong as it ought to be. You are not getting better.

It has been a long, long time since Alcina has been bothered by the sight of someone so very close to death. She had been only ten years old then, watching her mătuşă be claimed by her blood disease. She suffered in the end.

Alcina had been closer to that woman than her own parents. Those final moments had stuck with her for a long time, like a ghost with its earthly chains affixed to her wrists.

When she found herself with that very same disease many years later, it had upended Alcina’s life. The ghost rose back up out of the dirt and placed its hand on her shoulder as if it were an old friend.

Alcina has never considered herself a woman that scares easily, but the realization had rattled her to her core. Swathed in her own fear and desperation, she turned to Miranda.

And Miranda had answered the unspoken pleas.

Although the Cadou didn’t fully negate the symptoms of Alcina’s porphyria, it relieved her of most of them. It is also largely responsible for giving her the life she is currently living.

Not long before this incident between you and the Lycan, Alcina had brought up you potentially becoming a Cadou host.

She wants to spend eternity with you.

She wants to see your eyes open again.

Raising the hand she holds in hers, Alcina presses a kiss against your bruised knuckles. “I will be gone for only a moment, dragostea mea.”

After releasing you and heading to the phone, Alcina lifts the handset and begins dialing a number.

A Cadou ends up being implanted in nearly the same place that Alcina’s had been. Miranda does not even bother to clean the blood from her hands before preparing to leave.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda.”

The priestess simply nods her head. “If the Cadou adjusts well, I expect you to bring them to the next meeting.”

You’ll be there… Alcina hopes you will, anyway.

All that’s left to do is wait.

You think what you might be hearing are voices. They’re familiar but too muffled and distant to place your finger on.

Are you truly awake? Truly conscious? It’s difficult to tell. You haven’t known for certain since you dragged yourself back home, leaving a trail of red behind you in the snow.

The guest room is dark. You think it’s a guest room, anyway. You open your mouth to speak but have no words prepared to say, nor do you know if anybody is around to even hear them.

There’s a dull ache throughout your body that’s nowhere near as bad as expected.

“You’re awake! Took you long enough!” Wide golden eyes fill your vision.

You shriek, which then causes you to start coughing.

“Daniela!” Bela scolds. A glass of water is held out in front of you.

“Sorry…” Daniela grins sheepishly and swarms to a different spot. “I got excited.”

“We can tell.” Cassandra plops herself onto the edge of the mattress “So, who wants to go tell M—”

The door clicks shut. Bela is gone.

“Nevermind then. Foolish of me to even try and ask.” Cassandra rolls her eyes and turns towards you. “Mother was starting to think that she would have to have a coffin built for you, you know. Dani’s right. You took a long time to come back to us.” She isn’t great at openly displaying many emotions (aside from sadistic glee and anger), but you know the middle daughter well enough to tell that she was worried for you.

“...I did?” You set down the water. Although you hadn’t intentionally gone out and gotten yourself mauled, you can’t help but feel sort of bad for the concern you must have caused.

Daniela, who has already migrated back into your personal space, nods her head. “Longer than we did!”

That comparison… it strikes you as a very specific one to make in this situation. Is the connection you’re drawing just a wild assumption?

“Wait. Did I… Am I—?”

Another nod. An almost aggressive one, you might add. “Mother Miranda had to come down. You’re like us now! Sort of. You didn’t turn into bugs. But wouldn’t that have been great?!”

…You have a Cadou now? Well, the mystery of your strange lack of pain is solved. You suppose you’re lucky you agreed to become a host before promptly getting horrifically injured. It probably saved you.

“Congratulations.” Cassandra plays with the hem of one of her gloves. “You’re stuck with all of us forever now.”

“I wouldn’t have things any other way,” you say sincerely, trying to sit up a bit more properly. “Come here.”

As you hold both girls close to you, you hear the door open. Bela hovers in the entryway for about two seconds before dissolving into her swarm and coalescing in your arms.

“Dragostea mea?”

“Alci.” You smile up at the countess as she enters. It’s a sight that she’s relieved she gets to see again without looking at the family portrait, or flipping through loose sketches she’s done. For a moment, she simply admires it.

Alcina’s large hands cup your cheeks. She bends down and presses a kiss upon your forehead. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

She will never allow you to leave the castle unaccompanied again. Whether it be by her, Cassandra, Bela, Daniela, or a weapon adequate enough to strike down any foolish human or beast that dares to threaten you.

Donna Beneviento

Donna staggers around the corner, leaning heavily on the wall for support. She hardly feels like she’s piloting her own body anymore. How ironic it is to feel as though the only thing keeping her on her feet are strings and somebody else’s doing.

Angie is talking. Not out loud, but Donna can hear her in her head. None of it is clear. It’s as if it’s being muffled by six feet of dirt, which carries an implication that Donna isn’t enjoying.

Angie is starting to squirm in her hold. Spindly fingers are prying at Donna’s hand and tugging at the fabric of her sleeve with an urgency that’s unusual for her, wooden legs are kicking, but Donna’s hardly registering that, either.

Winters is coming, shears in hand and determination in his eyes.

And you…

You aren’t far behind.

Donna had told you to stay hidden. When she and Angie had returned from the Lord’s meeting earlier in the day, she seemed very detached.

You frowned in concern. “Everything okay?”

Donna absently placed a yellow flask down. “Yes.”

Later, you stood with her and Angie by the window with the best view of Castle Dimitrescu (which is still a rather poor one). Even from such a distance, you could see a dark shape in the sky near its spires.

“What is that?”

Angie tilted her head. “A big bird?”

“A really, really big bird?” you questioned incredulously.

“What? This village is literally run by one. And I don’t see you coming up with anything!”

“... Maybe Lady Dimitrescu’s Samce have started getting larger?”

Donna’s hand found the one you left dangling by your side, fingers slotting easily in between yours. You turned your head towards her, finding her gaze still locked on whatever was going on past the glass.

“We might have a visitor soon.”

That visitor? Ethan Winters? He is, against all odds, getting dangerously close to killing one of the village’s Lords and her obstreperous doll.

Donna had kissed you, she pulled quickly away despite clearly wanting to let her touch linger and told you to stay hidden.

But if there's one thing you know, it's that you aren't going to be the last Beneviento. Not if you can help it.

You follow the gory trail of breadcrumbs Donna's left behind, which ends with a bloody handprint on the floor beside Angie and Ethan.

You can’t see her, but you know Donna is there.

Pinprick eyes find yours. Briefly, Angie stops fighting against Ethan's grip on her face, her jaw dropping open with an audible clack. You aren’t entirely sure how to interpret that and you half expect her to give you away, but she doesn’t.

Blame Donna’s reduced field of vision, her veil, or her current tunnel focus, but she doesn’t notice you approaching.

That is, until you’re plunging a pair of shears—not unlike Ethan’s—straight into his back. Perhaps you can consider yourself somewhat ill-prepared for this, but it’s not as if you had any time to change that. Not when the love of your life has been painting the manor red for far too much of this encounter.

“Agh!”

In an instant, Ethan wheels around and turns his attention to you. Away from Donna. Away from Angie. Towards you.

It all seems to go down in an instant.

New valleys are being carved into your flesh, blood spilling forth.

You’re stabbing and stabbing and, to the best of your ability, trying to dodge his swipes and ignore the pain of those you can’t.

This man… He is supposed to be just a man, right? No normal human should still be standing with the amount of damage you’re doing. You’re receiving far less and you’re already becoming unsteady on your feet.

Faster than Donna can properly process, you’re collapsing to the floor. You try to push yourself back up, only for your elbows to buckle beneath you.

The fear, the panic that instantly consumes Donna is like an unexpected dip into frigid waters. It practically locks her in place.

In one last futile attempt to cause injury, you sink the shears straight into one of Ethan’s feet. You can’t reach much else from your position. He cries out and pulls his foot away.

“Get out of our home,” you tell him, voice weak. You drag yourself forward, determined to put another hole in his foot. “Get away from them…”

Ethan only stares down at you, breathing hard and looking vaguely confused.

A key skids across the floor and stops between the both of you.

A pedestal rises up out of the floor beside the entryway, the yellow flask sitting on its surface.

Mother Miranda had instructed Donna to guard her flask with her life. It’s important.

But you…

You are more important to Donna than any instructions from Miranda. She isn’t going to guard anything at the cost of your life. Not when you mean everything to her. Still cloaked in one of her illusions, Donna sends Angie off and begins making her way over to you.

Ethan picks up the key, grabs the flask, and hastily limps out of the house.

Strong hands gently turn you over so that you’re lying on your back. Donna is there. “What were you thinking?” she demands, ripping her veil off and using it to apply pressure to the worst of your wounds.

You’re going to be okay, she tells herself. Angie will be back soon. You’ll be patched up. You’ll survive this. You have to. Donna can’t even handle entertaining the idea of the alternative.

“You’re hurt,” you breathe out, eyebrows knitting together with worry. Your tremulous hand reaches up to cup Donna's cheek. “He was hurting you… Going to kill you… Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, cuore mio. Don’t worry about me.”

Truly, you are unbelievable. Donna is irrevocably in love with a fool. Yes, she is hurt too, but you are the greater priority here now!

You’re trying to keep your eyes open. You’re trying as hard as you can. Donna is pleading for you to do so.

But...

You can’t help it. Your world ends up enveloped in darkness, dragging you into nothingness.

Donna chokes out a sob. “No… Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me. I love you so much. Please. Wake up…”

A small groan cuts through the dead silence in the bedroom you and Donna share.

What happened?

You try to lift your aching arms and rub your eyes, but you can’t move one of them. It’s trapped.

You force yourself to get a look at your surroundings.

The space is darker than it had been when you were last in it. How much time has passed?

You look to your right. Donna is seated in a wooden chair beside the bed, her head resting on her arms and the hand you couldn’t lift in her grasp.

“YOU’RE AWAKE!”

You jolt.

Angie clambers onto the bed and immediately starts jumping up and down. She doesn’t weigh enough to rock it more than a tiny bit, but she’s certainly trying.

“Um, Angie—”

She screeches Donna’s name over and over, drowning out your words.

Donna stirs. Of course she does. If Angie doesn’t want you to sleep, you aren’t going to. You know that well enough. When Donna lifts her head and her eye finds your face, she looks so relieved that her eye is shining.

“Hey,” you greet hoarsely.

Donna squeezes your hand and the dam breaks.

“Come here. Don’t let me hog the bed when there’s more than enough room for you.”

The mattress dips slightly under Donna’s weight. You drape an arm around her shoulders and gently pull her into your chest. In return, Donna embraces you, careful not to aggravate either of your injuries. You can feel her tightly clenching the fabric of your top.

"Please never do anything like that again.” The words are whispered and shaky, lined with the remnants of a fear that thankfully didn’t come to pass. “There was so much blood… I thought y-you were going to—and I wouldn’t be a-able to—”

“But that didn’t happen. I’m still here. With you. And Angie.” For a moment, you’re dangerously close to completely breaking down. Just like you had been when debating whether or not to come out of hiding with a weapon, struggling with stomaching the possibilities of what might’ve been happening down below, of how the fight might end despite the hope you were still desperately clinging to. Like before, you manage to swallow down most of the emotions threatening to rise up your throat like bile. For now, anyway. “We’re all here…”

“Still! Scare us like that a second time and I’ll kill you!”

Despite everything, you can’t help but huff out the barest bones of a laugh. “That… seems a little counterproductive.”

A tiny wooden fist collides with an unscathed part of your shoulder. “You know what I meant, you stupid idiot!”

Donna sighs. “Angie…”

Acting as if she hadn’t heard her at all, Angie continues on. You only tug the doll over, holding her close as well.

You don't exactly know what’s going to happen with Miranda’s ceremony… whatever it was. You don’t know what the future holds, but when do you ever? For now, you’re just going to enjoy Donna and Angie’s presence.

Bela Dimitrescu

There’s an unusually strong chill in the castle. Not throughout all of it—it hits you almost abruptly when you step into a particular corridor.

Once you hear the whistling of wind, you increase your pace. Did someone open a window?

A couple of loud bangs rip through the open air.

You pause briefly, heart skipping a beat. One thought enters your mind: gunshots.

“You’ll suffer for this!” And that voice, shaky, breathless, and lined with desperation… It sounds so unlike Bela, but you know it’s her. You break into a sprint.

“Ugh… not like this…” Bela staggers, struggling to keep herself on her feet. Her body doesn’t want to cooperate.

The cold burns. Everything burns.

Her limbs don’t want to bend. There’s resistance to every movement she tries to make, causing her swings to be infuriatingly slow and clumsy. She keeps missing.

The stupid man-thing doesn’t seem to be running out of bullets.

With another pull of that damned trigger, excruciating pain flares throughout Bela’s knee. It immediately buckles beneath her.

The man-thing’s mouth curves up into a smirk as he reloads his gun. Bela wants nothing more than to cut his lips straight off his obnoxious face. If only she could get off the damn floor! Even crawling is proving to be ridiculously difficult!

Something moves in Bela’s peripheral. Has a member of the maid staff happened across the scene? Her mother? One of her sisters?

Her gaze meets yours.

“Oof—!”

The man-thing’s weapon slips from his grasp as you ram into him with all of your might, nearly toppling him over.

The two of you grapple with one another. Eventually, he manages to slam you against the grilles. It pops out of the window’s frame and lands somewhere outside. Your upper body is leaning outside.

Bela is still struggling to get up, to crawl, to do anything that will get her over to you and the man-thing. Finally, she manages to rise to her feet.

After only a couple of steps, her leg snaps beneath her and crumbles, sending her crashing back down.

You’re being pushed out the window. You’re leaning so far back that your feet aren’t touching the floor anymore. In a moment of panic, you instinctively try to anchor yourself to something—which happens to be the man-thing’s shirt. He starts to fall with you. Panic shoots through Bela like lightning.

“No!”

She manages to sink the blade of her sickle straight into his calf.

He cries out.

With the utter lack of traction on the wooden floor, the weight of you and the man-thing pulls Bela forward. She uses her free arm to push against the wall beside the window and stop herself, to stop you from plummeting.

It works. It worked.

Blood is rushing to your head.

The man-thing’s face is hovering above yours, expression pained and fearful. Bela’s weapon is slowly cutting its way through his leg. He’s trying to make you let go, but you’re holding on with all of your strength.

Bela starts pulling, hoping that her arms don’t break like her leg did.

You hook your legs onto the window sill once you’re able to.

With a harsh yank on the back of the man-thing’s overalls, you land back inside the room right on top of him.

There’s a moment of near stillness. All three of you are breathing hard, harsh winter winds whipping clothes and hair around.

Then, as if a switch was flipped, the man-thing shoves you off and scrabbles to grab his gun.

Bela pushes herself away from the wall and drives her sickle straight into the back of his skull. The sound he makes is horrendous. “I am sick and tired of fighting you. This ends now.” She tugs her weapon free and strikes again.

And again…

Until, finally, the man-thing goes completely unresponsive. Bela becomes just about as still as him.

You swallow. “Bela?” Picking up what remains of her leg, you hastily make your way over to her. “Bela…?” You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder. She leans into the touch and turns her head towards you.

“...Don’t you ever think about scaring me like that again. I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I was worried about the same thing.” You pull one of her arms across your shoulders and try to help her stand. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere warmer.”

“Mother isn’t going to be pleased when she sees the mess…” she mutters.

“I think the Lady will be less pleased when she sees what’s happened to you.”

Cassandra Dimitrescu

At some point during the night, the covers have migrated halfway onto the floor. They’re out of Cassandra’s reach. Unless she were to shift her position, of course. She won’t. Your body heat is more than making up for their absence.

Sleep is so close yet so far away. Cassandra closes her eyes again to try and draw it in more.

A faint crash sounds from outside the room, cutting her attempt short. If she had to place it, she’d say that one of Mother’s vases had just been shattered.

Somebody is wandering the corridors past curfew. An unwelcome man-thing, perhaps. Or a maid actively making a poor decision.

…It could be her family. But Mother and Bela carry themselves with too much grace to go around breaking things, and Daniela would have swarmed away from the scene of the crime by now…

“Hey. Wake up.” Cassandra places a hand on your shoulder and shakes you a bit. After a moment, you stir and just barely open your eyes. “I’m going to go check on something. Don’t leave this room.”

“M’kay,” you mumble out, already falling back asleep as Cassandra gets up and grabs her sickle, locking the bedroom door behind her as she leaves.

Just as she thought, a vase has been shattered. The perpetrator is nowhere in sight, though. That’s okay. After all, where’s the fun if there’s no hunt? No chase?

A figure slips around the corner, confident that they’re now going in the right direction. The room is close. They can feel it.

Their blood pumping, they feel for the weapon concealed inside their coat. Just to make sure it’s still there.

For so long… they’ve waited for this.

Shaky fingers graze the doorknob before trying to quietly turn it.

Locked. Nothing but a hitch.

Soon enough, the door creaks open.

You shift a little.

They pause, then continue on when you don’t move a second time.

Your sleep-addled brain doesn’t notice that the person entering most certainly did not use a key, that they’re purposefully being far quieter than Cassandra ever would while heading back to bed.

But then you roll over.

You can’t see well in the darkness, but you can see well enough to know that the dark shape before you most definitely does not match your partner.

You scream.

After a moment of pause, of shock at the sheer volume of your scream, one of the intruder’s arms swings down.

You jerk back across the mattress and tumble onto the floor.

“Cass!”

A knife slices open the pillow your head had previously been resting on.

“Cassie, I think I know why you wanted to check something!”

The intruder begins to round the bed to get to you.

“And they’re in here!”

You scramble across the sheets once more, grabbing the ruined pillow and smacking the intruder across the head as hard as you can. Of course, it doesn’t do a lot, but it gives you enough time to put some more distance between you, get out of the room, and slam the door shut.

An arm hooks around your waist and a hand clamps over your mouth, stifling any noise you might have made in surprise.

Cassandra wheels you around towards a stretch of wall beside the room, placing you down behind her.

The door opens.

She swings her sickle up, sinking its point through the bottom of the intruder's jaw as they try to leave.

A knife clatters to the floor.

They let out a sort of strangled gurgle and start falling backward, never quite reaching the floor because Cass has such a tight grip on the handle of her weapon.

Their hands fumble to get her to let go. She doesn't. She won't.

"You thought you were going to sneak in here and kill me while I was sleeping, am I right?” Cassandra joggles her sickle. “Am I? Don’t be shy, respond!”

The intruder makes more noise. It doesn’t sound remotely close to words of any sort. You’re sure it’s difficult to speak with something piercing through your jaw, tongue, and the roof of your mouth, though.

“Well. You were wrong. And you ended up making a far worse mistake. You’re finished.” Cassandra’s lips split into a wide grin, which briefly softens when she turns to look at you.

You’re a little shaken, you won’t lie. Who wouldn’t be?

…Cassandra would never tell you (or anyone, for that matter), but she is as well. Was. When she heard your initial shriek. She is more familiar than most with the blood-curdling scream of somebody facing imminent danger. She’s elicited it from many. Never before has the source’s fear seeped into her very core.

“Go back to bed. I’ll be right out here.”

Nobody gets to lay their unwanted hands on Cassandra’s partner. Nobody. She’ll cut them off without hesitation.

You nod your head and slowly push yourself off the wall, heading back into the room. Since you’re wide awake now, you don’t bother laying back down. Instead, you pick up the pillow, try to fix the covers a bit, and light a few candles as you wait for Cassandra to finish playing with her food.

“Have fun?” you ask when she crosses the threshold once more, covered in the intruder’s blood.

“Eh.” Cassandra twirls her sickle around a bit. “They were quite boring, actually.”

You’re quiet for a minute. “...Thank you, by the way.”

She waves dismissively and approaches you, hands finding your waist. “I told you that I wouldn’t let anyone touch you. I meant it.” She starts to lean in.

“Wait.” You hold your hand up, stopping Cassandra short. “...Wipe your face off first.”

She rolls her eyes but obliges.

Unfortunately, the thing she cleans herself up with happens to be the shoulder of the nightshirt you’re wearing.

“Cassie!”

“Hm?”

“Not on my clothes!”

“What? It's already stained anyway."

You look down and realize that Cassandra left red handprints on your waist.

Honestly, you aren’t sure why you’re even surprised at this point. You sigh. No point in worrying about getting something on you now. You tug Cassandra back towards you.

The next morning, you notice that Cassandra posted a new sign outside her room.

Written in what’s most definitely dried blood is “ENTER WITHOUT PERMISSION AND I’LL ADD YOURS”. There’s an arrow drawn below it and a severed human hand nailed to the board.

Elena Lupu

If someone threatened to end your life unless you provided them with the details of how you got this far, you aren’t particularly confident if you’d be able to do it. The past twenty minutes have been a blur. You’ve been fueled by nothing by adrenaline and pure determination to see Elena again.

You lost your gun, which was your only weapon.

You’re practically dragging your left leg behind you because there’s an arrow sticking through it.

Your flesh is littered with scrapes, freshly forming bruises, and cuts of varying severity.

You’re so close to Luiza’s house. To safety. Only one more barrier stands before you: the damn gate.

You’re pounding your fists against it, desperate to get the attention of someone inside but also not draw over the monsters.

Nobody’s answering.

You don’t want to die out here. Especially after how hard you fought to make it back to this point.

Elena, still inside the hut beside the gate with Leonardo, can hear you.

She doesn’t know it’s you yet, though. All she knows is that someone—something, perhaps, is right outside.

“Stay,” Leonardo says. “It’s probably just one of those beasts.”

“Luiza?” your desperate voice only just reaches Elena. “Please answer. Somebody. Anybody…”

“That-that’s⁠—” Elena swallows and tries her best to collect herself. “I’ll be careful, Father.”

Leonardo’s disapproval goes ignored as Elena quietly makes her way over to the door. She opens it just a crack.

Although she was already certain she heard you, seeing your face and truly confirming it is a whole other thing. You turn your head when Elena calls your name.

“Ellie…” You limp your way over to the hut and Elena pulls you inside, swiftly shutting the door. You’re happy to see her and Leonardo no worse for the wear, but it occurs to you that nobody opened the gate for them either. Did something happen to Luiza?

Elena grasps your shoulders, steadying you. “I… I-I thought—I thought you—”

“I didn’t, I’m here, okay?”

She nods her head, eyes slightly watery. You could cry, too. You want to.

The door flies open. You all jump nearly a foot in the air.

A blond man enters, gun in hand.

“Close the door! Please!”

He complies. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

You and Elena slowly back away from the stranger. Leonardo raises his machete as a warning.

“Whoa, it’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you or anything. I’m just glad to see normal people at last. Have you seen any other survivors?”

“No, they’re all in Luiza’s house,” Elena answers. “And she’s not answering, and the gate is locked.”

“Quiet, girl! He’s an outsider!”

Somewhere not too far from where the four of you are hiding, one of the monsters roars.

“Shit, we’re sitting ducks in here.” The man eyes you and Leonardo. “Can either of you walk?”

“I can. Sort of.” You nod to Leonardo. “He can’t.”

“The monsters attacked them!” The volume of Elena’s voice gradually begins to rise. “They’re badly hurt—we have to get into Luiza’s house!”

“Shh… quiet! There must be a way inside. Stay here, don’t make any noise, and don’t move until I get those gates open.”

The man disappears out the window in the back of the hut. In only a matter of minutes, you hear, “C’mon—it’s clear!”

You and Elena share a slightly surprised (yet relieved) look.

Wasting no time, you clumsily push open the door of the hut. Elena pulls her father’s arm across her shoulders and helps him out.

“Took your damn time,” Leonardo remarks as he passes the threshold to safety.

“You’re welcome.”

Elena pushes the gate shut and you lock it.

“He’s not used to relying on other people. I’m sorry,” she tells the man.

Leonardo stumbles his way up the stairs and begins to pound on Luiza’s door, prompting Elena to follow after him.

“Hey,” the man stops you before you can do the same, “do you know anything about what’s going on around here?”

You can only shake your head. “It all happened out of nowhere. The monsters have come into the village before, but they usually only kill livestock! And I’ve never seen so many…”

Leonardo collapses to his knees. “Nobody’s answering!”

“Father!”

The man strides up to the door and knocks thrice. “Hello? Anybody home?”

“Let me try." You just barely manage your way up the steps. “Luiza, open up! Please!”

Finally, the door creaks open. The barrel of a gun pokes out and points straight between your eyes. You back up.

“Stop. Shouting.” Lulian steps out. “You’ll draw the monsters.”

“Calm down,” Elena says.

Either not hearing her or not caring, Lulian whips around and aims at the man instead. “Who’s this?”

“A friend—”

“Stay back!”

“For god’s sake, Lulian, just let us in.”

“No, no, they’ll smell the blood.” He waves his weapon in your and Leonardo’s direction. “You’ll endanger us all!”

Elena moves to stand protectively between the two of you and Lulian. “They’ll die out here!”

“That’s not my problem.”

“What’s going on?” Luiza. Thank god.

“These two want to let dying people into our home.”

“Come now. ‘These people’ are our friends.” She gestures for you, Elena, and Leonardo to enter.

Only four other villagers are occupying the den. Four. Anton, Sebastian, Roxana, and her husband (who you can’t remember the name of). He isn’t looking too well.

Elena guides her Father down into a chair and pulls out the only other one at the table for you. You have to sit about halfway off it to not aggravate the arrow wound.

The man enters with Luiza.

“What the fuck is this?” Anton throws a dirty look his way. “Outsiders? You’re going to get us all killed!”

“Quiet, Anton.”

Conversation (arguing, mostly) continues on, but at this point, you can barely focus on any of it. Everything hurts. You don’t even realize that someone has suggested you all pray until Luiza takes one of your hands. You offer your other to the man, who you now know to be named Ethan.

“Great ones, hear our voice, together as one in reverence. We call on thee within the endless dark to deliver us into fate’s hands. As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice and await the light at the end. In life and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda.”

As you all release one another, Luiza takes Elena into the kitchen to help with tea.

Ethan mentions that he’s heard that prayer before. From an old woman near the graveyard.

“You mean the hag?” Leonardo asks. “Dumb bitch is crazy as a bag of rats.”

Luiza hands a cup of tea to Ethan. “There is wisdom in her devotion, though. And I hope it protected her as it shall protect us.”

Leonardo lets out a strange laugh and shakily rises to his feet.

“Hey,” you say, “maybe you shouldn’t—”

Suddenly, he collapses onto the tabletop, knocking over a lantern and setting the rug alight.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Ethan hauls you to your feet and away from the flames, which Anton begins to repeatedly stomp on. It isn’t dying out. Instead, it’s quickly growing bigger.

“Leonardo, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Something warm and wet splatters onto your face.

It’s...

It’s blood.

Luiza’s blood.

“Oh, god,” you whisper.

She’s shoved to the ground right in front of you, Leonardo’s machete having cleaved halfway through her torso.

“Oh my god!”

“Father!”

“Elena, no! Stay back!” Ethan pushes Elena into the corridor behind her despite her protests.

You watch Anton get his throat ripped out.

Then Sebastian.

The room is burning.

Everything is getting worse very, very fast.

Finally snapping out of it, you seize Roxana’s sleeve and try to pull her out of the room.

Leonardo yanks one of her feet out from under her. Your grip slips and she’s sent to the floor with a shriek, eyes wide and fearful. Before you can even try to help her up, he sinks his teeth into her neck as well.

“It’s too late, we have to go!” Ethan drags you away from her. “He’ll kill us all!”

Leonardo drops Roxana and begins shambling his way toward the two of you.

“Get behind me!” Ethan pulls out his gun and starts shooting. It hardly slows down Leonardo at all.

The next thing you know, he’s pinned to the floor beneath Leonardo and about to suffer a very similar fate to everyone else.

“Let him go!”

A shotgun blast sends what used to be Elena’s father onto his back. He begins to rise once more after only a few seconds.

“I said no!” Elena fires another round.

Leonardo falls back into the doorway.

Although you’re unsteady, you manage to help Ethan up.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Father…”

“Hey, hey.” Ethan places a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “That wasn’t your father anymore. You did the right thing.”

Burning pieces of the ceiling drop down and land upon Leonardo, who is still kicking.

“Elena, no, don’t!” You clumsily grab for her and miss as she tries to get closer to him, leaving Ethan to land the more successful attempt.

“There’s nothing you can do!”

“Father!” The cry is so raw, so desperate, you can feel your heart breaking apart.

Leonardo and you may not have seen eye to eye very often. Hell, for the first few months you knew him, he flat out didn’t like you. But you cared about him. You would risk your life for him the same way you would for Elena.

Watching him, watching almost everyone and everything you’ve ever known being destroyed right before your eyes?

“This entire place is collapsing!”

God, you don’t even know what to do with yourself! If you, Elena, and Ethan do manage to get out of here, where are you even going to go? No place is safe anymore! Mother Miranda has truly abandoned the village and you’re all doomed!

…No, no. You’re not doomed. Don’t even think that way. Worry about the next bridge when you have to cross it.

The three of you stumble into the garage. Ethan slams the door shut.

Elena starts to cry.

“You couldn’t save him. He was already gone,” he tells her.

“Don’t touch me…” She flinches away from him and stands closer to you.

“Listen. We need to get out of here. All three of us. I’ll find us a way, okay? Stay here.” And with that, he hurries off.

Elena pushes her face into the crook of your neck and continues to weep. You hesitantly lift your arms and wrap them around her, trying your best to not start doing the same.

The fire is moving fast and you have to keep inching the two of you further away from it.

Ethan rushes back in, coughing. He hops into the car and starts it up.

“...What are you thinking?” Elena asks.

“Both of you step back. We can bust out with this.”

Gas pedal to the floor, he rams the vehicle into the wall in front of him. Then, he repeats the action again. He manages to break through, but the vehicle begins to tip onto its side when he hits the second one.

“Ethan! Ethan! Are you alright?!”

Thankfully, it ends up tipping back the other way and all four of its wheels make contact with the ground.

“I-I’m fine. Let me back up again.”

“The fire—there isn’t any time!”

“...Okay. Nowhere to go but up, then.” Ethan crawls through the gap where the windshield used to be and stands on the hood of the car. “Grab on. Hurry!”

Once you and Elena are beside him, Ethan urges you to get moving up the half-broken staircase. Elena has to help you up the steps.

“Don’t worry, and try not to breathe in the smoke.”

“We know. Thank you, Ethan. You’re kind. I hope your family is safe.”

Coughing is growing more frequent between you all as you keep going.

“I do too. Once we get out of here, maybe you’ll get to meet them.”

Part of the attic has collapsed, forming a rickety ramp. Ethan’s foot sinks through the wood as he heads up, but he manages to recover. “Come on, it’ll hold.” You aren’t too sure about that, but you don’t exactly have many options, do you?

Ethan points to a window. “There! That’s our way out.”

“Thank god. But what then? The—” Elena abruptly cuts herself off. “Father?”

Leonardo staggers his way onto the ramp, charred beyond belief.

“Elena, no! That’s not him—not anymore!”

“Elena…” The walking corpse groans before falling to his knees.

“He said my name! Father!”

Despite attempts from you and Ethan to stop her, she runs down after him.

“Don’t!”

“Wait, it’s not safe!”

The wood begins to break beneath her. She manages to make it further down, but there’s now a huge gap that she cannot cross.

"Ellie! Grab my hand!" You rush yourself to the ledge above her and Leonardo and throw yourself onto your side, arm outstretched. “Ethan, help me! Please!” He grabs hold of you so that you can lean down further.

Elena hesitantly raises her arm, but not enough for her to reach you.

What little she has left to stand on begins to fall apart too. Leonardo slips through a gap and into the flames.

“Hurry!”

The floor gives away completely. She’s going to die! Fuck, she’s going to die, too! You can’t lose her. You can’t!

“Elena!” Just barely, you manage to grab her. With the wood gone beneath her and your hand slick with sweat, Elena’s wrist is beginning to slip out of your grasp. Before you can fully let go of the ledge and use both hands, she slips a little bit more. The flames catch her skirt. She yelps.

No, no!

Ethan pulls you up as fast as he can, and then the both of you tug Elena up.

“Roll!” Ethan urges Elena. “Start rolling!”

She manages to put herself out. A little more than half of her skirt has been scorched away to nothing on one side. Her leg is badly burned.

“I have some first aid med.” Ethan takes out a green bottle. “Just enough for one.”

“Use it on her,” you say without hesitation.

Elena says your name, disagreement on the tip of her tongue.

“I-I’ve made it this long without any treatment. I can go longer.”

You hold her close to you as Ethan does his best to quickly wrap up the wounds, which is all that can be done for now.

Time to get out through that window. After that? You’ll have to figure it out.

Daniela Dimitrescu

“I love you. So much,” Daniela murmurs against your lips, hands cradling your face.

“I love you too.” You give her another kiss, which she wastes no time in deepening.

Cassandra groans, “Ugh, you two make me sick.” Without warning, she grabs a fistful of her younger sister’s cloak and yanks. Daniela lets out a little yelp of surprise as she’s pulled away from you. Cassandra starts walking off, dragging her along. “I’d like to get started before sundown.”

“It’s not even noon yet,” Daniela whines.

“I know.”

Just before they both disappear around the corner, Daniela blows you a kiss. “Bye, darling!”

You give her a small wave and a see you later.

Hours pass by. You manage to get done some things you had been meaning to do, spend even longer doing nothing, and read a bit before deciding to get up and take a walk around the castle.

Aside from the occasional maid you encounter on your path, you’re all alone.

You come to a stop at one of the windows and gaze out of it. In your opinion, it has one of the best views of the village.

It’s a gorgeous day outside. The sun has finally chased away the last lingering chill of winter. You think about asking Daniela if she wants to go out later. Perhaps for a stroll. Or to simply sit and talk…

The floor creaks behind you.

You quickly turn your head, being greeted with a stone-faced member of the maid staff and the glint of a boning knife coming toward you.

You just barely catch the weapon by the blade before it can sink into your chest. Your hands quickly grow slick with blood from the cuts you’re now sporting.

The maid is pushing, pushing, and pushing for her weapon to make contact.

Finally, it does.

You drop down onto the floor and it only grazes the slope of your shoulder.

The maid wastes no time in trying to stab you again. It’s nothing personal. Not really.

You scramble away from her, get onto your feet, and run.

She chases after you. She’s going to get the revenge she wants. She’s going to make Lady Daniela hurt.

She’s fast.

Too fast.

She’s already catching back up to you!

You skid around a corner, narrowly missing a vase likely worth more than anything you’ve ever owned.

Another maid stands in front of you, broom in hand and eyes slightly wide as she stares at you in surprise and confusion.

“Hello, mind if I borrow this for a minute?” You snag the broom without waiting for an answer, swinging it with every ounce of strength in your body once your attacker steps back into your view.

You almost completely miss. The end of the handle only manages to clip her nose, making it bleed.

"...Oops."

It seems you've truly accomplished only one thing: pissing her off.

Before you can attempt to hit her again, start making tracks, or do anything but stand there, a shiny object sails past your head.

A sickle strikes the maid directly in one of her eyes. She falls back onto the floor, smacking her head. You watch a red puddle slowly start to form before turning to look behind you.

"...Dani?"

Her face lights up. "Hey. We're back early."

Cassandra moves to stand beside the maid whose broom you took. She seems to be utterly petrified. "What did you do to piss her off?"

"I-I didn't do anything! I was literally just standing and she snuck up on me!" you sputter out.

Daniela swarms over and pulls you into a tight hug, picking you up. "Don't worry, you're safe now." Her hold is leaning a tiny bit towards the bone-crushing side, but you feel comforted. And protected. "If anyone else dares to try anything," she looks pointedly at the maid on sweeping duty, "I'll kill them too."

Her eyes get even wider. You think they might pop out of her skull. "I wouldn't dream of it, my Lady."

"Good." Daniela begins to carry you away.

You hand the broom back. "...Here. Sorry, I got some blood on it."

Your partner hardly lets you out of her sight for the rest of the day.

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lovelybarnes · 3 years ago

Text

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

587 notes · View notes

yslkook · 4 years ago

Text

TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#Jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jeon jungkook x reader #Jeon jungkook smut #Jungkook x you #Jeon jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff

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feral-ella-flynn · 3 years ago

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Paying the Toll, pt 2: M Troll x F Human, SFW (for now)

Part 1

Male Troll + Female Human

still SFW (so far)

2.5K/6.5K word draft

tagging @feralprose @monster-bait @apocalypticromantic666 @pre-schoolervengance @bresilienne-ami @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @dont-call-me-a-faerie @kirmalight (comment to be tagged in updates!)

I bet no one expected this to be updated! Including me! This installment is definitely not as long as I intended, because I got really hung up on details--that’s why I’m posting anyway, to get some momentum so that hopefully the third part will be both longer and not so tardy.

Escaping a goblin raid on your village leads you to a bridge, but you have nothing to offer the troll who guards it for a toll...except yourself

You wake in darkness. At first you aren't sure you're awake at all--it's only by touching your own eyelids that you can feel sure they're open. It seems to make no difference between the thick, pressing dark around you either way.

“Mattie?” you whisper, your voice thin and hoarse.

There’s no answer, and understanding comes crashing down on you, like floodwater overwhelming a dam. You are not in your cramped room under the eaves of the big house, Mathilde is not sleeping on the narrow bed an armspan away–if she’s lucky, perhaps she was able to hide in the cellars or the attics, somewhere that was safe enough until the goblin raiders felt they had run out of things to raze and ravish and moved on. Or perhaps help would come, from the regiment billeted outside the market town, or from rangers who might have been near enought to see the smoke. If Mattie was unlucky….

A sob catches in your dry throat, then turns to choking dry heaves that leave you shuddering. Bile burns on your tongue. You huddle into the nest of furs, remembering now where you are and how you came to be here, naked and alone in the pitch black.

Not alone. There is the hush of leather brushing against stone, a faint musky scent.

“Brúsi?”

“Aye.” The troll’s gravel-rough voice is low and close–you almost reach out, ready to blunder once again into his arms rather than be alone with your fears.

The scrape of flint is loud enough in the silence to make you jump. Sparks illuminate the troll, kneeling at your side, and as he coaxes the tinder to unfurl into flame you hastily wrap a fur around your bare flesh. Whatever mood made you so bold before has been banished by your nightmares.

“Is it morning?”

The troll shrugs. “Near enough.”

“Shall I–shall I make breakfast for you?” Your fingers knead anxiously in the soft nap of the pelt that you clutch closed over your chest. “What do you like for breakfast?”

The troll–Brúsi–glances at you, his head tilted in the way that is already familiar. You think it means he’s just as bewildered by your contract, and by you, as you are yourself.

“Dried goat,” he says. “Morning meal, evening meal. Unless there is a new goat.”

“Oh. Where do the goats come from?”

He shrugs. “The bridge provides.”

Well. You take a deep breath, pushing the fear and panic of the last day, of the dark dreams, down into a tight ball at the bottom of your stomach, where you can ignore it for a little while. “Does the bridge ever provide eggs?”

And so you begin your month as housekeeper to a troll.

Your clothes are badly stained, and chilly from being spread out on the stone floor, but they're dry and you dress in them anyway, trying to ignore the scrutiny of Brúsi’s dark blue eyes as he watches you. He seems fascinated by the layers as you lace your stays over your shift, tie the strings of your petticoat, and your cheeks burn with a blush as you finally button your gown. You do your best with the tangles in your hair--letting it hide your face until your heart stops thumping in your ears before you twist it into a hasty braid.

There are no eggs. But you take a lantern the troll indicates and follow him into another cave that serves as a store room.

“There is goat,” he says, pointing at the considerable supply of dried meat, “and other goods, if tha wish them.” His gesture at the heaps of bags, crates, jars, casks, boxes–all jumbled together and shoved to one side–is dismissive, as if there is nothing of value to be found. You stare wide-eyed at a bolt of fine silk, at the glint of gold from a carelessly overturned casket with a broken lid.

“What is all this?”

“Payment for the toll, for when there were no goats.”

“You don’t do anything with the things paid for the toll? They just sit and rot?”

He shrugs. “I butcher the goats.”

You can only shake your head, but the practicality can’t be denied–gold and silk isn’t much use in a cave, and it’s with less wonder but more delight that you find flour, oil, and salt.

Breakfast is fried bread--and goat meat.

Once the meal is prepared and cleaned away, the troll vanishes up the dark tunnel. He takes no lantern with him. He also doesn't say a word to you before he leaves, and you stand in the cave for a while, expecting him to come back with instructions, or–well, something. But he doesn’t, and you can only twist your hands in the skirt of your gown for so long. Eventually you pick up the lantern and explore.

There is little enough to see. Other than what you noticed when you arrived, there is an alcove that must be where the troll sleeps, on piled furs that smell musky but not unpleasant. There is the storage cave, although it seems larger than it did at first, because you realize that you can’t see the far wall before the circle of light gives way to darkness.

And then there is the tunnel entrance, where your new employer disappeared, and which presumably leads out, to--your stomach lurches at the memory of being upside down from the sky–the underside of the bridge. But perhaps that had been an illusion, and the tunnel merely led out to an opening in the bank underneath the bridge? You had been half out of your mind with fear, after all. Maybe you dreamed that part.

Maybe…maybe you could simply walk out of this tunnel, out of the dark, and walk all the way home.

Except that you agreed to a contract. And the troll did say he wouldn’t eat you, wouldn’t even touch you, which was more than any of the men at the big house ever promised...none of them had touched you, but you knew that was because you had been careful, so careful, all the time, to be invisible.

It had helped that Mattie made it easy to fade into the background. She flaunted her pretty curls and winsome dimples, and when she sometimes crept into your shared attic room well after midnight she always had a new length of fine fabric for a dress or a necklace of amber beads to show for it. You asked once if she wasn’t afraid of falling pregnant, but she just shrugged.

“I know to be careful,” she said, and hid the coins she’d gotten for selling her latest bauble away beneath her bed.

Thinking of Mattie makes your eyes sting with tears, and reminds you that probably there was no home to walk back to–and if you tried, there would likely be nothing to be done there except burying the dead. You leave the tunnel entrance alone, and busy yourself with organizing the heaped goods in the storage cave.

When Brúsi returns, he brings you eggs, freshly laid and nested in a straw packed basket.

“They had no goat." He shrugs.

Other than struggling to invent new ways of preparing goat meat, most of your time is spent sorting. You find all manner of things in the storage cave, from precious jewels to plain linen fabric. The gems and gold you store in caskets, and then can’t shift on your own–Brúsi laughs at you, and picks them up with one hand, arranging them neatly along one wall as you direct him. You stack bolts of fabric, folding shorter lengths neatly into a another chest, you line up swords with gold wrapped hilts, swords with elaborately carved scabbards, swords that are short, swords that are nearly as long as you are tall, and then there are maces and axes and other things you can’t name. There’s even a pair of pistols in a tooled leather box, their handles gleaming mother of pearl. It’s more treasure than you ever imagined, and you feel that you’re in a dragon’s den instead of a troll’s cave--except that Brúsi shows little interest in the goods, except for the goat meat.

“If you don't have a use for these things, why accept them?” you asked, after the third day of sorting boxes and bundles and barrels, and still not finding the back wall of the cave. You’d found a crown, heavy and lumpy, like something out of an ancient grave, and under it a belt of bronze scales that linked together.

The troll just shrugged. “They are the toll, for the bridge. There must be a toll.”

“Then…" you bite your lip, but blurt "can I use some things?”

“If tha hast a use for them, then mayhap the bridge meant them for tha to use.”

“You make it sound like the bridge is alive,” you murmur, running your fingers over the bolts of fabric, already imagining yourself in a dress made of such soft material.

“The bridge is the bridge,” Brúsi says.

“What does that mean?”

He just shrugs.

You sigh, picking up a bolt of wool–practical, and still finer than anything you’ve ever worn. “If the bridge provides, can I give it a list? I need thread, needles, scissors, buttons…I can’t keep wearing this dress,” you gesture down at yourself. “Not without something else to wear while I wash it, at least, but I can’t make anything without supplies. And for that matter I need soap–”

Brúsi tilts his head. “Tha may always ask the bridge, but it works slowly. Simpler for tha to go to a market.”

You stare at him, your mouth falling open. “I can? I mean, is that allowed? I thought…”

He stares at you, the intense blue of his eyes unblinking, and you finally shrug. “I just thought I couldn’t leave the cave.”

“Not for long, but art not bound to the bridge as I am. Come.” He scoops a handful of coins into a pouch and leads you into the tunnel.

The ground slopes upward under your feet, and after a time there is a door before you, swinging outward. Brúsi ducks under its arch, his broad form filling the opening. When he doesn't move to let you through, you realize that he's blocking the way deliberately. Unease spikes through you.

"Is something wrong?"

"The bridge made tha sick before," he says. “Tha shouldst close thine eyes.” You squint suspiciously up at him–is he laughing at you?–but obey. You hear the rattle of his bone-decorated belt as he steps toward you, but then he stops. “I must touch tha,” he says. “Just to lift tha over the topside.”

“All right,” you whisper. You stifle a gasp as his enormous hands circle your waist, lifting you easily off of your feet, and then after a blur of motion you feel stone under you again.

When you open your eyes, you’re on the narrow stone arch of the bridge. Your lantern flame becomes suddenly pale compared to the warm sunlight that makes you blink and squint. There is no dark and shadowed forest hemming in the river. Instead there is a road, smooth hard dirt fringed with wildflowers on either side, and the rooftops of a village in the distance.

“Where…” You look down at the bridge under your bare feet.

“The bridge is all bridges,” Brúsi says. He holds out the leather bag of coins, and you take it, staggering a bit at the weight. “Buy whatever tha need.”

You hesitate, glancing from the troll to the road. What is there to stop you from walking away and never returning, from making a life somewhere? The bag in your hand holds more money than you had ever expected to earn in your life. There would be nothing to hold you to the bridge…except your promise.

“Tha canst not escape the bridge.” Brúsi seems to be reading your thoughts, although he’s not even looking at you. He’s gazing down at the water. “Every bridge tha sets foot on will be this bridge, until the toll is paid.”

“Of course.” The bag of coins drags at your arms, and you fumble it open, taking out a handful. “I should be able to get everything I need with these–it would be dangerous to carry all the rest of this.”

The troll frowns, glancing from you to the distant rooftops. “Danger from other humans?”

“Only if I seem to have more money than I should,” you assure him hastily. “It would get attention from the wrong kind of humans. I'll be careful.”

The coins bite into your palm as your fingers clench unconsciously. The frown creases his forehead, not smoothed away by your reassurances, and you half expect him to shake his head and pick you up under his arm again, ready to toss you back under the bridge.

“Please?”

You bite your lip too late to keep the word in, but there are lazy curls of smoke rising from the distant chimneys, and you can hear the lowing of cattle nearby, the friendly chime of chapel bells...and all you can think about is cheese. Cheese, and fruit to pair it with, or potatos, perhaps. Honeycakes. Your stomach rebels at the very thought of dried goat.

Brúsi jerks his chin toward the road. “Go, then. The bridge will be waiting for tha to return.”

You hand off the sack of coins–your shoulders more than grateful to be relieved of its weight–and the troll adds it to the other oddments that dangle from his belt among the bones. He folds his arms.

The handful of coins you kept are barely enough to make your pocket sag with their weight, but you can feel them as a reassuring lump under your skirts. You run anxious hands over your hair and stained gown, smoothing uselessly at wrinkles.

“I wish I had been able to bathe properly,” you mutter. “I look like a ragamuffin.”

But your hands and face are clean, your hair neatly tied back, and dusk is not far off, so perhaps your bare feet will not be noticed. You step from the cool stone of the bridge to the warm hardpacked dirt of the road.

"I'll be back s--" Your voice breaks off as you glance over your shoulder. The bridge behind you is a simple one of wooden logs, straddling a stream that a child could leap across. Gooseflesh prickles the back of your neck. You hurry down the road towards the village without looking back a second time.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #m monster x female reader #troll boyfriend #Brúsi the Bridge Troll #troll lover #Feral Flynn Fics #monster romance #fantasy romance

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theleftovertaco · 4 years ago

Text

You Were Maid For This

There is an increasing amount of boys on tiktok in maid costumes, and when someone dressed up as Malfoy in a maid outfit, I had to write this (if you want the video just send an ask and I’ll send you the link). Here we have Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Draco. Just a heads up, some of the details are purposefully vague so that the reader can be interpreted as being from any house, in any year, and of any gender, if i trip up or you think there is a way i could improve, please let me know since i finally have asks and submissions enabled

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Whoever decided this was a good idea.... was absolutely fucking correct

It was you, you decided it was a good idea

You darted into the great hall, sat down, and told Colin Creevey to set up his camera and to not be a snitch, and then you waited.

Fred and George came first, and to an onslaught of laughter and a little bit of applause.

Because low and behold, they came in wearing matching maid outfits.

Pink. Frilly. Fucking. Maid. Outfits.

“We wanna know”, George said as he plopped down on your right, “who thought it would be funny to take all our clothes in the middle of the night and leave us with only THESE!” You stifled laughter by shoving a piece of scrambled egg in your mouth.

Fred tilted his head your way from the other side of you. “You think this is funny, do you love?”

“I find it to be the purest form of comedy.”

“Ugh” came the simultaneous replies, “This has to the fluffiest thing I have ever worn.”

“I don’t know”, laughed Harry, “the cat ears just bring out your eyes so well!”

He got identical middle fingers in response.

“Maybe you should just work with it, not against it” , Hermione interjected her two sickles into the conversation, “try to rock it.”

“Rock it?” They both titled their heads a little to the left.

“It’s a muggle expression, when a person tries to make a style work even if they’re not fond of it.”

“Ah.” Came the reply from your left.

“Maybe we should try to, uhh, rock it.”

You giggled and turned to Colin, “You two have fun with that, in the meantime, would you mind taking a picture, I’d like it for blackmail material.”

“Colin, you take that picture and I smash your camera.” Fred’s threat fell on deaf ears and after the image was pointed out on Colin’s new Polaroid you took the image, fanning it as you slipped 5 knuts into the small boys hand.

In McGonagall’s class, the boys flounced into class and immediately began flirting with the other boys in class.

“Weasley and Weasley, sit down before I turn the dress green!”

“Professor, that would clash with our hair.” A stern look silenced George pretty quick and they both sat down, though after they did McGonagall had to turn around to hide a smile.

Professor Sprout let out a booming laugh when they entered greenhouse four and simply shooed them to their stations. The Dittany plants they had planted into the plant beds saw that the white of their costumes were freckled with brown, but a quick scourgify from Sprout and they were good as new.

She sent them on their way with a comment that they, “look adorable!”

Flitwick couldn’t say much, he fell off his book stack laughing when they walked in and stayed on the floor for half and hour.

Charms class was excused for the rest of the day since their professor couldn’t calm down.

They reconvened with you for study hall in the courtyard looking a little too pleased with themselves.

“I take it people liked them?” You shouted across the yard.

“Yeah, Flitwick couldn’t stay on his stack.” Fred grinned.

“Well, I really must say, you both look very pretty.” They both laughed but you didn’t miss the way their cheeks flushed at this very different compliment.

“Yes, they look very pretty, don’t they”, Malfoy sauntered across the courtyard, “It’s such a manly look for them. Very fitting, since you two are too stupid to get any job outside of being janitorial staff.”

Fred nearly growled and you and George had to pull him to sit back down on the fountain ledge.

“Don’t worry, he’s next on the list.” You whispered. Identical mops of red hair whipped towards you.

“It was you!” came the in unison exclamations.

“Of course it was me, who else would it be!”

“Y/N!” Fred bemoaned.

“How could you betray us like this?” George was howling like he’d just been stabbed.

“I wouldn’t call it betrayal, just a bit of fun.”

“How did you even get up to the common room?” Fred was incredulous.

“You should know by now that I know how to get past those charms.”

“Ok, we’ll admit that was pretty funny.” George replied.

“Thank you, I try. Just make sure you don’t tell anyone else yet.”

“Of course. So, where are our clothes?”

“You’ll get them back when I’m finished with the prank. Bye you two.”

You got identical “NOOOOO”s as you left the courtyard.

2 down. 4 to go.

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“Creevey! Same drill as yesterday.” Colin nodded and whipped out his camera to get it ready.

“You might wanna hide for this one, I doubt Malfoy would appreciate you taking his picture in this state.” He promptly ducked under the table until just the lens peeked out above the table.

Draco stomped into the Great Hall, sat over at the Slytherin table, and huffed as most of Gryffindor let out thunderous laughter.

“Whoever did this will be on the very unpleasant end of an unforgivable when I find them!” You could barely hear him above the giggles.

“Mr. Malfoy, I know I did not just hear a threat from you?” McGonagall walked past the table and let out an affronted sound.

“Er-...of course not professor.” She hmphed and walked off.

“I don’t know Malfoy, maybe this could be good for you. This is what you get for making fun of the twins.” Fred and George nodded next to you, still in their outfits from the other day.

“Shut it, Y/Ln. If this was you I swear to Merlin.”

“I will admit to no such thing.”

Draco, unlike the twins, very much did not rock the maid outfit. Flitwick had finally gotten over his laughter and could teach as normal, but Professor Sinestra couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when a very grumpy Malfoy stepped up the astronomy tower with a few Gryffindor students trailing after him, making some rather inappropriate jokes about his backside.

Snape merely grumbled that his costume better not interfere with the lesson and moved on.

“Ok.” Malfoy finally sat down at your table in the library, “I concede, now please give me my clothes back.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You said with a sinister grin.

“Y/Ln!!!!” he groaned.

“It's not that big of a deal. So you wear a dress. Guys can wear dresses.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to!” he yelled, before being shushed by Pince.

“You know”, you began to speculate, “I think you’re arguing to deflect because you don’t want to admit that you actually like wearing a dress, even if it’s just a little bit.”

There was only silence in return and you smirked.

“You get your clothes back when I’m done with my prank.”

“Thank you. One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you change my outfit to be green? Pink is not my color.”

“I disagree, but fine.”

Halfway done.

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By day three, many of the boys at Hogwarts held the mild fear that they would be next to have their clothing swapped.

Creevey had also picked up on the drill at this point.

Ron and Harry were next.

You knew Harry would at least try to be a good sport. Ron, on the other hand, was a bit more of a wild card and you were a little nervous for his reaction.

“What. The. FUCK!” He whisper shouted when he got to Breakfast, slamming his hands down on the table. Harry chuckled and sat down next to him.

“So we were the next victims, hm.” Fred and George must have told Harry it was you, since he looked you way and playfully glared and stuck his tongue out at you, which you happily returned.

“Mature, Y/N.”

“You started it- wait no, ok now I hear it.”

“I swear to Godric Colin if you take my picture in this I will end you.” Ron snapped as the kid squeaked and ducked down, but the click of the lens appeared nonetheless.

Harry and Ron went about their classes trying to attract as little attention as possible. Flitwick was used to the skirts at this point and merely smirked and asked the boys to sit down while commenting they should be careful with the lace collar since it was delicate.

During quidditch practice, Harry and the Twins did have a bit of trouble flying with the dress, since some of the other players and onlookers made comments from below.

“Oi! Stop peeking!” Fred shouted at a third year girl who giggled and scurried off.

Professor Trelawney stared at the two before claiming that the fates told her to advise them to wear a blue dress the next time.

“Harry told me it was you.” Ron huffed as he slumped down in the grass by the lake near you. Harry sat down shortly after.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Honestly, I think you look cute in it.” Ron blushed at the compliment but didn’t say anything more.

“I’m guessing we won’t be getting our clothes back for a while?”

“You’re catching on. Only one more day. The last person is tomorrow and then you get your Friday off from wearing it.”

“Oh thank Merlin.” You heard Ron sigh in relief.

1 more person left.

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If we’re being honest you were most worried about Neville. That’s why you wanted him last, so he would only have to deal with it for a day in case it backfired. Also so that Malfoy couldn’t say anything because he would also be wearing his.

Neville kinda just shuffled into the Great Hall, and then darted over to the table where he wolfed down his beans on toast before rushing back out to hide until his next class.

“Neville!” Harry and Ron ran after him, dresses jumping back and forth as they left.

It was doubtful you woulf see anything from them directly, you didn’t share any classes with Neville on thursdays.

Ron and Harry would have to catch you up afterwards.

You met back up with them at dinner.

“You ok, Neville?” He offered a sheepish smile and nodded.

“Harry and Ron said I’d be ok and that no one else could really say anything.”

“Snape just said not to be ‘any more of a nuisance than usual’”, Harry interrupted with a shitty impression, “ Binns was too interested in his fucking textbook to make a comment, McGonagall called the three of us ‘adorable’ and Dean and Seamus keep playing with our ears!” He batted away Seamus’ hand for what probably was the 40th time that day.

“Well, Neville, what did you think?” Eyes turned towards him and he blushed bright red.

“I”, he paused for a second, “it was fun, I guess. It was kind of funny seeing Malfoy in them.”

There was a slight pause, and then.

“I guess I’d do it again. Not the outfit but the dress or skirt. Maybe even the headband. Just not as fuzzy.” Neville looked down and kinda whispered the last part.

“I would too.” Ron, surprisingly was the next to admit it and from there came a round of agreements at Gryffindor table.

“Well if we’re being honest I think that George and I did indeed rock it.” Fred said as he dug into his pot roast

“That you did. If you lot want, we could go to a shop next Hogsmeade weekend, take a look around for some other skirts?”

You got a round of “yes”s and the conversation turned elsewhere.

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“Hey,” Malfoy dropped into the seat next to you during study hall, “ how are you.”

You squinted at him.

“Fine? Why are you being so weird? You’re never nice.”

“Er, well, I mean I was hoping...that maybe... perhaps...”

“Spit it out Malfoy!”

“Could you take me to get a skirt?”

What?

“It’s just, after the first day, I kinda liked the skirt.”

You glared at him for a second.

“Yeah, ok, meet me at Hogsmeade entrance next month and we’ll go. Everyone else is going so play nice.”

He thanked you and left quickly.

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“Well, you all look beautiful if I do say so myself.” You said as they each stepped out of the changing room wearing their skirts. Fred and George twirled around, Harry and Ron did a little dance, Neville jumped around a little bit, and Draco shifted his weight from foot to foot.’

“Well thank you love.” Fred skipped over to you in a plaid circle skirt, “I will say I prefer this skirt to the poofy one in the maid outfit.”

“You like the skirt, huh? You could even say you were maid for it.” You offered with a sly grin

“Why are you like this?”

“Nooo!”

“Shittiest pun ever.”

“Whyyyyy!”

“Please never speak again.”

“I literally hate you right now.”

Well, you win some, you lose some.

Tag list:

@omg-imatotalmess

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electricbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

time is not on our side

steve rogers x reader

summary: ever since steve went against the sokovia accords, he’s been on the run. but he still takes time to see you, even if it’s only for a night.

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration

wc: 2.8k | warnings: pretty fluffy i would say, but its got a little angst, implied smut

note: it’s missing steve hrs

Nat: Don’t be gone too long.

Steve reads the text on the small screen of his flip phone, but he doesn’t bother to reply back. He shoves the phone back into his pocket as he turns into a dark alleyway. He glances behind him, making sure no one is watching him. The streets are fairly empty considering the late hour.

Steve carefully climbs his way up one of the fire escapes. The creaking of the old metal echoes through the empty alley. He goes up to the third floor and slides open an unlocked window. Steve ducks inside the dark apartment that’s only dimly lit by the street lights outside. His eyes do a quick scan of the room, looking for any possible dangers.

He closes the window and flips the latch, making sure it’s locked this time. Just as he turns around, the hallway light turns on, revealing your silhouette. You clearly just woke up, judging by the flyaways of your hair and the old tee shirt you usually wear to bed. You squint your eyes into the darkness and they widen at the sight of the man standing in your living room.

“Steve?”

A gasp escapes your lips and you practically throw yourself on him, but Steve easily catches you. Your arms wrap around his neck while his automatically circles around your waist, pulling you in close. He ignores the pain from the bruise on his ribs, focusing on the feeling of having you in his arms again instead. The tension leaves his body as he melts into your embrace. His senses filled with the familiar sweet scent of your lotion.

Your soft clean skin contrasts the dirt and grime that covers him and his tattered suit. Though, you don’t seem to mind. He knows he should’ve cleaned up before he got here, but his time is limited and he wanted as much time with you as possible.

You pull back from him after a moment to get a good look at his face. Steve sees your smile morph into a frown and your eyebrows scrunch together. Your hand goes to his forehead, fingers carefully tracing the cut above his eyebrow. He forgot about the small injury.

Though he hates seeing you upset, Steve can’t help the small smile that appears on his face. He leans in, placing a kiss between your furrowed brows. He whispers an “I’m okay,” to ease your worries. It seems to work because your adoring smile returns.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you say quietly, as if this were a dream that would end at any moment. It makes him wonder if you have dreams about him like he has of you. He knows all too well that feeling of disappointment when he wakes up alone, wishing the dream had lasted a little longer.

“I’m here,” he affirms, squeezing your hips as a confirmation that this was real. He seals it with a kiss that you immediately fall into. Your hand combs through his, now longer, hair as the kiss deepens. Before it could go any further, you pull away from him. Steve chases your lips for one more kiss, earning a giggle from you. He’s missed that adorable laugh of yours.

Your hand brushes over his beard. He had forgotten about that too. His look has changed a lot since the last time he’s seen you. Being a wanted criminal meant that he could skip the shaving in order to hide his face more. He’s far from the golden boy image that he was before.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, as you take his hand into yours and lead him to the bathroom.

Steve sits patiently while you clean the cut on his face. You’re standing in between his legs and his hands rest on the curve of your hips, just wanting to keep you close. He watches your concentrated expression, thinking it’s cute. He loves how much you care for even the smallest of cuts. He’s pretty sure if he got a papercut, you’d treat it the same.

“It’ll be healed by tomorrow, you know?” he tells you.

“I know,” you say as you toss away the cotton you were using to clean his cut. You shrug, placing both of your hands on his shoulders, “I just wanna take care of you.”

Steve’s heart warms at your words. He looks up at you in disbelief. How did he get so lucky to have you? Even after months apart with radio silence, you still welcome him with open arms. You still care for him. He worries about the day when you’ll get tired of the distance. When it’ll become too much and you’ll give up on this barely there relationship. He knows it isn’t fair to you and you deserve far more than he can give. And yet... you’re still here.

Your hands move up to his cheeks, pulling him in for a quick kiss before leaving his side to turn on the shower.

“Alright, you take a shower and I’ll get you some clothes,” you tell him.

“Care to join me?” Steve asks with a smirk. He walks over to you, his hands wandering to the band of your sleep shorts.

You match his smile but shake your head, “Nuh uh, I don’t think you need any distractions.” You remove his hands from your waist and step back from him, “Now take off your suit.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say that and leave me by myself,” he groans, throwing his head back.

“I think you’ll be fine,” you say with a laugh and he can’t help but laugh too. Though he’s slightly disappointed in your rejection, he knows it's probably for the best.

Once he’s out of his suit, you take his gear from him and leave to give him some privacy. Steve steps into the shower and involuntarily lets out a sigh of relief as the hot water instantly relaxes his muscles. He hasn’t had a good shower in far too long. The grueling weeks of underground missions and uncomfortable nights in the quinjet washes off of him. For a moment, Steve wonders if this is how it could always be. Feeling at peace, not having to be so guarded all the time. Just being here with you in your home makes him forget about the dark life he’s been leading for nearly a year now. Here, he feels like he can finally catch his breath.

Though he wants to stay longer under the hot water, he washes up quickly because he doesn’t want to waste anymore time without you. He gets dressed in the white tee shirt and grey sweats you left for him on the counter. Thankfully, you always keep spare clothes for him.

Just as Steve walks out of the bathroom, you walk into the room holding two mugs.

“I made some tea,” you say, handing him a blue mug with his iconic shield printed on the side. It made him chuckle. He secretly loved how you would keep these little reminders of him.

“And I cleaned your suit as best as I could. The star’s a little loose though,” you tell him.

“Dont worry about it,” Steve takes the mug and pulls you in with his free hand, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Soon enough, half filled cups of tea are forgotten on the nightstand. Clothing thrown around the room without care. Steve couldn’t help himself after craving your touch for so long. He’s sure you’ve felt the same, your breathy “please” told him so. Though he didn’t give in so quick, never missing a chance to tease you. Steve took his time rediscovering your taste. Remembering all the ways he drew out those little gasps. He’s dreamt about the way you wrap around him, but that could never compare to the real thing. He missed the way your body felt pressed against his. He missed the sounds of your moans in his ear and the sweet relief that comes after you both meet your ends.

For the rest of the night, the two of you laid in bed, legs twisted together and comfortably wrapped up in each other’s arms. Despite the late hour, you stayed up just talking.

Steve asked about what you have been up to since he’s been gone. You told him about how it’s been at work and the times you’d meet up with your friends over the weekend. You told him about the week you spent with your parents, wishing he could’ve been there. And you talked about the shows you’ve been watching, promising that you’d watch it with him one day.

Your lives were so different now. He wishes he could go back to the days when things weren’t so difficult. He wants that normalcy again, or at least what was normal for an Avenger. He thought he gave up on the idea of wanting a domestic life, forfeited to being a hero instead. But things have changed. Ever since he’s met you, you’ve unknowingly changed his mind.

Maybe it’s the time apart that’s making these moments with you that much more valuable, but it’s all he wants now. It always seems like a fleeting dream. This kind of domestic life isn’t in the cards for him. But the nights he gets to have with you give him hope that it could be possible. He knows he could never completely give up his heroic lifestyle. People need him and he is never one to turn a blind eye. He just hopes that one day he can find a compromise.

Maybe someday he can show up at your office and steal you away for lunch. Or he can join you on those nights out with your friends and get to know them. He would finally meet your family, saving you from them trying to set you up on a date. He’d finally introduce you to the team, the people he considers family. Bucky already knows about you. Steve couldn’t hide someone so important from his best friend. He's pretty sure that Sam and Natasha know where he runs off to every now and then. They even subtly remind him of how risky it is to sneak away. But after the fighting for so long, being with you is just what he needs, even if only for a night.

You were curious, of course, of what Steve has been up to in the time he was gone and where in the world he’s been. Steve avoided any details of the missions he’s gone on. He didn’t want to make you worry, though he’s sure you do anyways. He only tells you the good parts.

“Bucky has goats now,” he says with a smile, recalling the sight of Bucky helping the Wakandans on their farms.

“Really?” you raise your head from his chest, a look of surprise on your features.

“Yeah,” he says with a breathy laugh. “One of them even tried to eat Sam’s pants.”

“Oh my god,” both of your laughters break the quiet of the room.

There’s a lull in the conversation, but it’s a comfortable silence. Steve just enjoys the comforting weight of your body on top of his as he soothingly rubs his hand up and down your arm. For a second, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep but you turn your head to look up at him. He can see how sleepy you are, eyelids half closed. You stare for a moment with a small content smile. Your hand reaches for his face, delicate fingers stroking his beard.

“I like this,” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm,” you affirm. “Didn’t think you could get any sexier but wow” your eyes widen, emphasizing the last part.

Steve throws his head back, laughing at your comment. You giggle along with him, tucking yourself back closer into his side.

“Guess I’ll keep it then,” he muses.

Silence takes over again. Your fingers draw random shapes across his chest, careful of the bruise on his side. Gradually, your movements get slower until your hand rests above his heart.

“You should get some sleep sweetheart,” Steve says, kissing the top of your head. He knows he should probably sleep too, but he doesn’t want to. He just wants to enjoy having you in his arms while he can.

“Noooooo,” you let out an adorable whine.

Steve turns to his side, both of you now face to face. Looking into your eyes, he knows this is exactly where he wants to be. His hand tucks a stray hair behind your ear, thumb caressing your face.

“Wanna stay up with you,” you say, the sleepiness evident in your voice.

Steve glances towards the window, noticing the subtle change of the sky. The dark night beginning to fade away to early morning blues.

His throat feels dry when he looks back at you and says “I have to go soon.”

The pout on your face returns and he wishes he could take it back. You let out a sigh.

“What if you just stayed, right here in this bed and we just never leave?” you asked with a teasing smile.

Steve smirks at the thought, “very tempting.”

“Or,” you begin to suggest, “what if I just went with you?”

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t given it a thought. He knows how much you want to see the world, but it shouldn’t be because you’re following a fugitive. He’s thought about asking the king for another favor, letting just one more person stay in Wakanda, so he can safely visit you more often. But you had your friends and family. He couldn’t be selfish and take you away from your life here. Above all else, he wanted to keep you safe. It was the reason for keeping your relationship a secret in the first place. He didn’t want you being associated with him in fear that you’d be used against him. He’s glad he kept you a secret, especially now that he became a part of the nation’s most wanted.

“I can’t ask that of you,” he says regretfully.

You look at him with sincerity, “I’d go anywhere with you, Steve.”

“I know,” he sighs, “but it’s too dangerous.”

You look at him sadly, before shying away from his stare. “I know.”

“Hey,” he coos softly. His finger bringing up your chin, getting you to look back at him. “Things will get better for us, I promise.”

You nod subtly, and he hopes you believe his words.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” you say, voice breaking toward the end. He can see the emotions swimming in your eyes.

“I wish I didn’t either.”

He leans in to meet your lips, hoping it’ll alleviate the pain in your heart. It damn near breaks him seeing you like this. He hates the torment he’s putting you through, but he was too selfish to actually let you go. He needed the hope you gave him. He needed you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, wiping away a stray tear.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he reassures you. “Being away from you is hard for me too. Trust me sweetheart, there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.”

“I know,” you say with a sad smile.

“I love you,” he states firmly, needing you to know that he means it more than anything.

“I love you too,” you respond with a small smile.

He bumps his nose against yours, before giving you another chaste kiss.

The morning light starts to fill the bedroom, signaling his time was almost up. He looks back at you, “Go to sleep, doll.”

You don’t protest this time. Instead, you pull yourself closer, tucking yourself into his embrace. He lays back, swallowing down the sudden emotion he feels. His hand comfortingly strokes down your back, lulling you to sleep. Steve waits for your breathing to even out, making sure you were sleeping before reluctantly leaving your grip.

He quietly gets dressed in his now clean suit that was left hanging on your desk chair. He’s in no rush to leave, taking his time putting his gear back on. He looks over at you and sees you clutching your pillow in place of him. Part of him wonders what the consequences would be if he just stayed.

As he pulls on his suit, Steve notices the off-white star slightly bent off the center of his chest. He rips the whole thing off and walks over to your desk, finding a sticky note and a pen. He writes a reminder of his love for you and a promise that he’ll come back soon. He leaves the note and star on your nightstand for you to find when you wake up.

Just before he leaves, he goes to you and leans down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, careful not to wake you up.

He leaves your apartment the same way he came in. The air is much colder. He can hear sounds of the early risers and the birds chirping as he makes his way back down the fire escape. Steve glances one last time at your apartment window. He regretfully leaves the comfort and safety of home, back to his reality of life in the shadows.

thank you for reading! hope you liked it 🤍 as always, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot

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heliads · 4 years ago

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Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (Part Four)

When Kaz Brekker announces that they’ll be working with a certain Tidemaker to help with the latest heist, Jesper knows it’s not going to end well. He and Y/N L/N have a fierce rivalry, although feelings may change over a night.

part three / series masterlist / part five

consider: secret dating but fake dating at the exact same time (ily @underc0vercryptid ty for the suggestion :))

Jesper’s feet flash underneath him. He’s running, faster than he has in a while. His breath comes sharp in his lungs, a silent promise to himself that he won’t be caught, not today. The flagstones are far beneath him as he runs along the roofline, but he manages to keep his distance. Maybe Jesper has more in common with the Wraith than he’d first thought.

Jesper turns his attention back to the roof he’s currently heading down, and feels a slight twinge of panic start to rise within him. He’s running out of shingled space, and the gap between houses is approaching faster than he’d like. Jesper’s eyes narrow, his hands tap once and twice at his pearl-handled revolvers, and then he makes the jump.

He hits the next house with a significant impact, one that knocks the air for his lungs for a second before he manages to swallow the jolt and keep moving. Jesper knows this part of town, knows the way the houses curve and turn as they twist down the narrow sidestreets. If he darts across this opening, down this corner of the roof, then there’s a fire escape off the back, one that empties into a nearby alleyway.

A stolen pocket watch dangles at Jesper’s side; he checks it with a furrow of his brow. He’s running on borrowed time, a moment or so too slow. He sets his jaw with a determined tilt, running even faster until he’s sure he’s going to slip and fall. Then again, he just might manage to pull this off. Jesper has had plenty of practice over the last week.

A few more seconds of running, and then Jesper is jumping again. He hangs for a moment in the air, arms rising involuntarily as he falls. Then his heels hit the fire escape with a thunk and he’s down, twisting himself over the rails to quicken his journey to the ground. He’s clear of the fire escape now, and loses himself into the mess of alleys that crowd the streets of Ketterdam, sprawling out in an untidy heap like the last remnants of a spiderweb on an abandoned window.

He crosses over one street, two, then ducks under a faded and scrappy awning to find himself in an opening in the alleyways, a back end that nobody checks except the Dregs. He’s back on safe ground, both literally and figuratively. Jesper lets out a sigh of relief, checking the liberated pocket watch once more. Right on time. Even Kaz Brekker would be impressed.

There’s a derisive snort from behind him, and Jesper’s head shoots up in a flash.

“You know, I don’t think you have to go this hard for a practice run.” Jesper straightens up, sauntering over to Y/N with a grin fit to kill. “And why is that, Tidemaker? Maybe I’m just having fun.” Y/N raises an eyebrow at this casual confidence. “Do you always get this sure of yourself after every run? Maybe it’s not so bad after all.”

Jesper leans down, stealing a kiss and swooping away before Y/N has time to think on it. “Maybe not? I’m excellent, and I’m making sure I’m excellent for this heist. We’ll have to be careful, you know. And when am I not careful?” Y/N raises an eyebrow, although her smile deceives her challenging expression. “When we nearly got caught against the wall of the Crow Club two weeks ago? When you had your hands on my dress and-”

Jesper kisses her, both because he can and because the flush in Y/N’s cheeks renders her unable to finish the sentence. “What was that, love? Talking about my excellence? Anyways, we might not be as careful as we could be, but that just makes it fun.” Y/N hums quietly, the sound deep in her throat. “Maybe. Does the fun not extend to spontaneity in heists?” Jesper groans, reaching into his coat to flip his revolver back and forth out of habit from the mention of the heist. “Try telling Kaz Brekker that you’re not following his plans. It’s not exactly a pleasant experience.”

Jesper’s fingers tighten over his revolver as he remembers the meeting of a week ago. Kaz had called him to his office yet again, and Jesper’s pulse had raced at the sight of the maps and documents littering his desk. Another heist, another escapade, another chance for bullets to fly and for Jesper to finally have a bit of fun.

Kaz had folded his hands over his crow’s head cane. “We’re breaking into a mercher’s house.” Jesper had raised an eyebrow. “Joeri ter Steege again? Saints, this guy doesn’t know when to give up.” Kaz chuckled. “No, not Joeri. This will make ter Steege seem like a pleasant memory. We’re taking on Pekka Rollins.”

Jesper had known even from that first mention of the gang boss that this heist wasn’t going to be easy. Whenever Pekka Rollins’ name came up, Kaz got a look in his eyes, a dangerous look that only came out when bones would be broken and screams would rend the night. Brekker was gone, replaced by Dirtyhands, the boy who would do anything to get what he wanted. Blood would be shed in the Barrel, likely sooner than expected.

Kaz had cleared this throat, the sound like rough stones grinding underneath a carriage wheel. “Rollins has a mercher in his pocket. His name is Arnout Hul, and he’s got ties to banking as well as trade. He’s the perfect puppet for Pekka’s strings. Right now, Pekka wants him because Arnout has a list of names, a list that just might correspond to the Council of Tides.” Jesper let out a low whistle. “I thought the Council of Tides never revealed their identities?”

Kaz gave a tense shrug. “That’s what we thought. Could be nonsense, could be a lead. I need you to find out. Arnout Hul is hosting a party in about a week and a half. You and L/N will enter as guests, Inej and I will circle around back. You two will be getting the names, we’ll be on another tangent.” Jesper had nodded, accepting the map of Hul’s house without another word. He’s run with the Dregs long enough to understand something: if Kaz Brekker doesn’t tell you the details of a mission, it’s for the best. He won’t tell you no matter how much you question him, so why waste the breath to ask?

Normally, Jesper would have no problem going with Y/N to the party. It’s an excuse to act like lovesick fools and drink plenty of expensive liquor, what could be wrong with that? It’s the second part of the playacting that bothers him: namely, the escape. It’ll be easy enough to slip away from the party and into Arnout Hul’s office, but the chances of them returning will be significantly lower. Most likely, they’ll have to make a quick exit from there, especially with whatever Kaz and Inej are doing added to the mix.

That’s why Jesper’s been running the rooflines, making sure he’s ready to escape when necessary. The rooftops in this corner of the Barrel are similar in layout to those near Hul’s mansion, give or take a few feet. Y/N had raised an eyebrow at this when she first heard of his practice runs. “If it’s off, with some jumps bigger or smaller, won’t you get confused when we actually have our lives on the line?” Jesper had dismissed her questions with a trademark wink. “Some are a little off, but if you average them they’ll all be the same. Yes, that is how it works. I’ve done something like this before. Somewhat.”

The Y/N in front of him has now become accustomed to Jesper’s plans, and just watches with a grin as he taps the stolen pocket watch. “How was your timing this go around?” Jesper flashes her a grin. “Right on the dot. It was spotless.” Y/N steps closer, letting her fingers linger on his hand, the lapel of his coat. “I’m fairly sure I saw you stumble on one of the jumps.” Jesper takes her hand, stopping its climb and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “You were watching me? I’m touched.”

Y/N snorts. “I was watching for weaknesses. It’s not like that.” Jesper cocks an eyebrow. “I’m sure it wasn’t. Was that why you were waiting for me like a blushing schoolgirl?” When Y/N opens her mouth to protest, Jesper closes it with a kiss. Saints, he likes riling her up. Makes it that much more fun to kiss her senseless.

Jesper stares up at the mercher’s mansion. He’s broken into plenty of these woefully wealthy houses over his time with the Dregs, stolen and blackmailed and worked hard to bring down even more. It feels strange to now be walking into one as an esteemed guest, one with a pretty girl on his arm. The girl in question turns to him now, a smile flickering over her lips at the sight of his reluctance to enter the building.

“We do have to go in at some point, right?” Jesper forces a smile. “Of course we do. Just, uh, admiring the view.” Her gaze softens, and she leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine. Now, come on- I intend to be shown off to all the attendees.” Jesper can’t help but laugh at that. For some reason, this small joke is enough to convince him to escort Y/N up the wide colonnade and into the main foyer of the mansion. It’s been decorated extravagantly, if lacking a little in taste, and the entire spectacle could take your breath away.

Jesper and Y/N mingle throughout the crowd, doing their best to seem like normal, law-abiding citizens of Kerch. Jesper leans close to Y/N, whispering something in her ear like a flirty compliment. “I think I pickpocketed that guy a month ago.” Y/N laughs, the sound effortless. More than a couple unpartnered mercher’s sons look over at her in unabashed longing. She whispers in turn to him, careful not to let anyone overhear. “I drowned that one’s office. Hundreds of documents, gone. He’s cripplingly in debt now because all of his stocks are waterlogged and useless.”

Jesper has to try his utmost to stop from laughing. “You know, I think you’re the only girl I’ve ever met who can keep one-upping me on crimes.” Y/N tosses a glance his way, easy and full of secrets he could only hope to keep. “That’s why you love me, isn’t it?” Jesper feels like his heart has been shot through with bullets. It is, more than she could ever know. He could love her every second of every day, and it would never be enough. He loves her more than anything he’s known before.

However, they’re on a mission, so he can’t exactly burst forth with poetic confessions. Instead, he keeps his tone light. “Of course it is. I wouldn’t love just anyone, would I?” He can only hope that this brief statement will be enough. Looking at Y/N, though, at the light shining behind her eyes, he has a feeling that she knows what he means. She understands him, and knows exactly what he isn’t saying and what he wishes he could. Jesper doesn’t think he’s ever had anyone else like this, someone who can send him a single glance and say a thousand words in the time it takes for their eyes to meet.

An orchestra begins to play, and the couples start to migrate towards the center of the room. Jesper extends a hand to Y/N, who takes it. He spins her once before assuming the proper form, footsteps in tandem as they move throughout the dance. Y/N raises an eyebrow at him. “Since when have you known how to waltz like a mercher?” Jesper smiles like a renegade. “Since I knew I would be dancing with you.”

Y/N leans forward, lips ghosting over his. She doesn’t kiss him, though, just whispers something in the heated stillness. “I can see the door to his office. It’s down the hall to our left.” Jesper groans. “You’re sure we can’t stay a little longer?” His hands slide down to her hips, nestling there in the fabric. She grins, although he can tell from the slight intake of her breath that it’s not an easy choice. “Afraid so, Fahey. We’ve got a deadline to meet.”

Right now, Jesper is willing to curse all the Saints and Kaz Brekker that he has to leave this dance and let Y/N out of his arms, but his girl isn’t wrong- they have to be in the office and out in a short matter of time. If they miss the cutoff time, Jesper has no idea what will happen. Kaz and Inej are somewhere in this building, and Jesper has no doubt that they’re doing something that has the potential to alert a lot of guards to their presence.

Most eyes are trained on the dancing couples in the ballroom, so it’s fairly easy for Jesper and Y/N to slip from the room, shoes clicking on the tiles of the empty halls. The noise and laughter of the gala disappears behind them the further they stray from the gathering. At last, they spot the office, which is guarded by a duo of tall, broad-shouldered thugs in uniform. Jesper waits until the music reaches a particularly loud pitch, then reaches out, knocking one of the guards unconscious in a swift motion.

Y/N reaches her hand towards the other one, directing a stream of water to flow from a nearby flower pot into the man’s mouth and nose, drowning him instantly. She holds the water there for a second longer, watching with a cool certainty as the man struggles, then releases her hold as the man crumples to the ground. He’s still breathing, at least for now. Y/N looks back to Jesper, as if daring him to be alarmed, but if she’s looking for fear, she’ll find none with him. Jesper happens to have a thing for dangerous women. It’s gotten him in trouble before, but it just makes him fall even harder for Y/N.

They open the door with a key from a ring on a guard’s belt, moving as quietly as possible. Kaz believed that the list of names would be in a safe on one of the mercher’s shelves, which they locate quickly. Jesper hovers before it, doing his best to remember everything Kaz had told him and everything he’d taught himself about picking locks. He hesitates a second, then twists his hand, reaching his consciousness out into the metal and the workings of the safe. The lock clicks open, and Jesper smirks.

There’s a single envelope resting in the safe, marked with a bloodred seal that Jesper recognizes. Kaz had pointed it out to them earlier, saying that the list of names would be marked with it. Jesper snatches up the envelope, pocketing it in a recess of his coat . He nods at Y/N, who begins to prop up the guards at the door. Hopefully, they’ll just think they drank too much and nodded off. Jesper locks the safe and door behind them, and they slip back out into the hall.

They’ve barely turned the corner when Jesper realizes his mistake. They’ve spent too long in the office, and the guests have all filed away into another part of the mercher’s mansion. Jesper and Y/N seem conspicuously lost to the squadron of guards marching towards them. Jesper feels panic rising in his chest. The guards are around the corner at the far side of the hall, about to discover him and Y/N and wonder why they’re not with the rest of the partygoers.

Jesper fishes around for an excuse, but none rise to his lips. Frantically, he turns to Y/N, who has his same panic in her eyes. “What do we do?” She hisses, and Jesper gestures towards the wall. “We pretend we were distracted.” Y/N nods once, understanding. She pulls the neckline down from her dress, letting the fabric pool around her collarbone. Jesper pushes her against the wall, letting his hands creep to her hips and up her dress. This might be a ruse to convince the guards, but Jesper can’t exactly pretend that it’s hurting him to let his lips linger on her throat, the space behind her ear, her lips which open with a sigh.

There’s a coughing sound behind them, and Jesper lets himself straighten up in feigned embarrassment. The guards are looking definitively uncomfortable. “The rest of the party has, uh, moved to the receiving hall, if you’d like to join them.” Jesper flashes them a grin, helping Y/N to readjust her dress. “Of course, officer. Thanks for the tip.” He offers Y/N a hand, guiding her past the soldiers and into the halls once more.

He doesn’t dare speak until they’re far away from the soldiers, then turns to her with a sigh of relief. “Thank the Saints, I thought we were done for.” Y/N laughs at that, the sound a pretty call in the dark. Jesper almost wishes the guards would come back so he’d have an excuse to kiss her like that again. “Well, it wasn’t the worst of alibis.” Jesper smirks at her words. “I wouldn’t mind using it again.”

They’re almost out of the building when Jesper hears the alarms suddenly raised across the mansion. He curses under his breath. Y/N turns to him. “Kaz and Inej. They must have finished their side mission.” Jesper nods, considering the rows of doors before him. “Here. It’ll lead to a side exit.” They run through the halls, not bothering to conceal the loud echoes of their steps. They dart around carriages and into the neighbouring streets, through twisting alleys. Jesper feels a rush of gratitude for all the time he’d spent navigating the rooflines and escape opportunities. Finally, all his practice runs are paying off.

Jesper can hear the shouting of guards behind them, but he and Y/N are too far away for the uniformed men to do anything to them. Jesper takes one last turn, landing them solidly in Barrel territory, then lets himself slow to a stop. His breath is coming hard in his chest, but the adrenaline rush pounding through his veins is something else altogether. He’s feeling powerful, like he might do anything tonight. And, as he looks back at Y/N, who’s regarding him with the same devil-sharp grin, he might be willing to make a dangerous mistake.

Jesper is not sure when he decides to kiss her again, only that he doesn’t ever want to stop. He’s been forced to act polite all night with the merchers, but he can finally kiss her like a criminal, someone who doesn’t have to play by the rules. He can still feel his heart hammering in his chest, but he doesn’t intend to let it stop. They’ve escaped, haven’t they? Why not celebrate?

series tag list: @kaqua

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yuulina-vre · 3 years ago

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Cuddles

Fauna’s save heaven

Summary: Y/N has trouble sleeping and shifting only helps for that long. Bucky and Steve are the best help.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Wordcount: 4555 words

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping and violence, Nightmares

Masterlist

“Y/N? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” Y/N’s head snaps up from the spot she had been staring at. The others around the table stare at her. Tony especially looks annoyed since she hasn’t listened to the mission briefing at all. This time he actually tried to turn his rambling down. The others just look amused, maybe with a little bit of concern. Bucky’s the only one who really looks worried. He grabs her hand under the table, squeezing it lightly. “No, I’m sorry, I’m listening now.” She ducks her head in shame, clearly embarrassed but Tony seems satisfied enough and continues talking. She tries to listen and pay attention. She really does but her head hurts and her eyes are heavy with sleepiness. “Did you manage to sleep at all?” Bucky’s voice whispers in her ear as he leans in a bit. “No.” She whispers back. Her voice is so silent that she worries if he even had heard her. “Y/N…” Bucky sighs knowingly but defeated and squeezes her hand again. She only looks briefly at him before her gaze falls back to her lap where Bucky’s hand clutches hers. “Alright. I have enough. Do you two want to share something with the class?” They both look up. Tony’s arms are crossed, glare directed at them, though, he’s the only one who seems annoyed. The rest are just watching, waiting for reactions. “No.” Y/N whispers but Bucky’s answer different. “She hasn’t been sleeping for days. She needs a break.”

“Bucky!” Now she’s the one glaring at him, trying to get her hand out of his but Bucky tightens his grip. “Why?” Sam pipes up, the concern now on his face, too. Bucky’s eyes meet her eyes, silently asking if she wants to tell them what’s up but she shakes her head nearly not noticeable. “She has nightmares. The bad ones.” That’s enough. They all know what that means. Dreams of kidnappings, torture. Experiments. For four years of her life, when she was only seven years old, she got kidnapped from her home. The people that took her got her across the whole country to a facility where other people with similar abilities to hers were kept. Four years of her life, the years in which children learn a lot, where children should have the happiest time because that’s the period of time that forms who they are going to be later on, were spent in constant fear and pain. She never told them what these people had done to her, not in any detail at least. Only Bucky and Steve have a vague idea and only because she once said that Bucky had suffered just as bad as she did and Steve’s the only one who make living with it a little better. This one little sentence had shattered their world for a week. They weren’t able to understand how someone could do things, these kinds of things, to a child.

“Then… Go to bed.”

“What?”

“Out of the room and to bed.” A cold shudder runs down her back. For a split second a picture flames up in front of her. Someone’s scolding her, sending her to the bed, a bed with nails. The picture is gone as fast as it came but Y/N lifts herself from the chair, slowly. She tenses and she knows that Bucky sees it, that he wants to get up with her. But she doesn’t want him to get punished too, so she squeezes his hand and leaves the room. Funny thinking, they would punish her. Tony never punishes her, where did that come from? “Y/N! Wait a second.” She stops, back tensing again, worried she did something wrong but the warm hand on her lower back feels like a lifeline, like comfort. She turns her head to see Sam smiling at her. “You know Tony didn’t mean it like a punishment, right? It just came out wrong, he’s worried.”

“I know.” She mumbles silently but Sam catches it and nods. “The nightmares. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I…” She swallows thickly. Can she tell him that she was afraid of what he would say? That he would laugh? “Hey.” His hand lightly lifts from her back to be placed on her arm. “You remember what we talked about? You don’t need to tell me what’s up. You don’t need to do anything, but I’m here when you want to talk and I listen, not judge. Just like the rest of us.”

“I know.”

“Good.” The man nods and grins again. He quickly looks back to the conference room and then to her. “What do you think about the thing we did last time? You think it would help now?” Y/N’s eyes stay on Sam’s face. “I-I don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t you go to your room and shift? I’ll come in a minute and pick you up. We can at least try.”

“Okay.” She nods and Sam squeezes her arm in comfort. Silently she walks down the hall to the elevator. FRIDAY does her job without Y/N doing anything. The AI gets her down to her floor without a hitch. Back in her room, Y/N falls down on her bed with a heavy sigh. How come she’s so miserable these last few days? What triggered it? There were no missions she had attended, no briefings, no reports. She hasn’t talked to her parents or about anything from these four years. So why are the dreams torturing her right now? Where is it coming from so suddenly?

She closes her eyes, only to open them again. The pictures start flashing as soon as they’re closed. With another heavy sigh, she sits up. Her back is tense, just like her shoulders. Her headache gets worse with her anxiety spiraling. “Are you ready?” The knock startles her a little. “A-a moment, please.” She stutters, gets up, and quickly sheds out of her dress and underwear. Then she concentrates. Sam usually asks her to change into a smaller animal, something that fits into the pockets of his hoodie or can easily be carried around. This way he can keep her calm and steady but still do his work. Sometimes Y/N settles for mice or a flying squirrel but today she doesn’t feel it. Instead, she concentrates on something else. She doesn’t want to sleep in a dark pocket. It will encourage other memories she rather forgets. So, she slowly shifts until she sits finished on the ground. Running over to the door she makes a small screeching sound. The door opens quickly, revealing Sam. “Well, this is new. Monkey?” He smiles and crouches down, holding his hand out for her to climb up on his arm until she can rest on his shoulder. Her tail wraps around his bicep to hold on tight while one of her hands grabs Sam's ear. “Okay, here we go.” Sam walks slowly, making sure she’s not falling off until he reaches the conference room again. Everybody turns to look at him. “Is that…” Tony looks confused but Wanda coos instantly. “Oh my god. She’s so cute.”

“It’s a squirrel monkey, right?” Bruce looks closer at her and she nods. “We have watched some documentaries in the hope for her to fall asleep. I think one of them was about Primates or something.” Sam hums, probably connecting the dots while he walks back to his seat to sit down. “Come on, down.” He holds his hands to his lap, motioning for her to climb on his lap but Y/N doesn’t want to sleep down there. Instead, she climbs down from his shoulder but only halfway. She stops at his chest, holding tight to his shirt like the babies do, and looks at him to see if it's alright. He seems surprised but not bothered. He places his hand on her back and runs his fingers slowly over it. “It’s alright. Just try it, yeah?” She eyes Sam for a second longer but his focus is more on Tony now, so she uses the time she has to look around. Steve, Clint, Nat, and Wanda are also concentrated on Tony, though she sees Steve glance at her now and then. A soft smile grazes his face each time their eyes meet and Y/N knows that he itches to have her lying on his chest. He’s a sucker for a good cuddle. Only Bruce and Bucky watch her closely. Bruce seems a little on edge but the good kind. Like he really, really wants to touch her. She makes a mental note to seek him out later on when she’s not on the edge of falling asleep. Bucky looks… a little startled. No, more unbelieving, like he can’t figure out why she’s on Sam’s chest and not his. Maybe he’s a little jealous. But the moment he catches her staring he smiles at her with a nod, making sure she knows it's okay. She makes a small chirping sound before a big yawn escapes her and she snuggles closer to Sam, tail wrapping more securely around his wrist. Her eyes start to droop while she listens to Tony’s rambling about finances and training schedules.

* * *

“Hey, are you coming back to me now? You were out for a while.” Y/N chirps lowly, still pretty sleepy and struggling to open her eyes. She notices though that she’s no longer clutching Sam’s shirt but lies nestled in the crook of his arm. “I managed to get you down when we were halfway through the meeting. It looked kinda uncomfortable and Barnes was glaring at me the whole time.”

“I wasn’t glaring.” The deep rumble of a voice behind her lets her look around. She twists a little struggling to get a better look. Bucky’s sitting on another couch, book in hand but his eyes are focused on her. She makes another chirping sound, climbing out of Sam’s arms to run up to her brunette favorite person. “Sure Barnes. You looked like you would stab him any second.” Natasha wanders in a bowl in hand. Y/N looks at her briefly then back at Bucky and notices that Steve’s sitting next to him, head on the brunette’s shoulder and eyes closed. Though, what’s more, interesting is the little stuffed and colorful bear that he has in his hands. It was the first one that he tried to stitch on his own and even if it looks uneven with one arm longer than the other and the eyes not quite on the same height. The head is hanging a little sideways too and one leg is turning in the wrong direction. But the little stuffed creature is all hers since she loves to cuddle it while changed into smaller animals. It reminds her of him when he’s gone and they both lovely named it Cappy. A mix of Cap and crappy. Bucky sees her gaze and follows them, snorting. He lifts his shoulder lightly to rouse Steve while Y/N scrambles forward, over Bucky’s lap and right into Steve’s to free the stuffed friend of his hands. “Wha-? Y/N?” Steve wakes, rubs his eyes before he notices the little animal on his lap. She chirps and clutches the teddy to her chest while rushing up to sit on Steve’s shoulder. He laughs a little and quickly rubs her teil the moment she settled. “Y/N…” Bucky whines, sending his own puppy eyes to her. “No cuddles for me?” Steve rolls his eyes and Y/N would do the same, even giggle but she can’t. Her stomach grumbles loudly. She can smell fruits. She looks around and her eyes stop on the bowl Nat has on her lap.

Y/N swears she can see some banana slices just over the top. She looks between Nat and Bucky, who’s still pouting but her hunger wins out. She jumps from Steve’s shoulder, bear still clutched to her, over to the couch where Nat has settled. There she climbs all over Nat’s lap. “Hey, you. Hungry?” Y/N nods and climbs on Nat’s shoulder and lets Nat hand her a banana slice. Y/N quickly starts devouring it, grabbing into the bowl herself for the next one. “Hey.” Nat laughs but lets her get the next few slices of bananas and strawberries. Y/N chirps around the food, now and then jumping around to switch positions when Nat angles the bowl differently. A few times she even throws a raspberry on the coffee table and Y/N has to jump around to get it, making the four people laugh. Though, she notices that Bucky’s not as happy as he tries to look. Dread and guilt settle in her little chest. He still seems a little jealous, now of Nat too, maybe even of Steve, and Y/N knows that he sometimes starts to doubt himself when others can help her but he can’t. So, she makes a split decision. She runs up to Nat for the last time and steals two more Bananas only to waddle over the cushions to where Bucky sits. One of the slices finds its way into her mouth and while she munches on that she climbs up on Bucky until she’s snug on his chest, Cappy trapped between their chests. Bucky seems surprised but the smile on his lips is genuine and actually reaches his eyes. He lifts his hand and one of his finders stokes over her nose and along the white markings on her face. “Hey, monkey.” Instead of answering in any form, she holds out her hand with the slightly squished banana as compensation. “What’s with your banana?” She holds it up higher, poking it against his mouth. “For me?” She nods, which probably looks strange for a monkey to do. Bucky chuckles and Y/N holds her hand up higher once more until Bucky actually opens his mouth for her to drop the slice. “Thank you.” He leans down and kisses her little head. While he chews on it, Y/N jumps a little with cute little squeaks in a happy dance before climbing his shoulder and holding on tight to his hair, nuzzling it a little. Even if Bucky sometimes can’t help her fall asleep, he is one of her favorite persons after all. At some point, Y/N yawns again. Steve has gone back to napping a while ago and Bucky is drawn back into the fictional world of his book. Though, he notices that her head drops forward now and then. “Hey, monkey. Come down here, yeah?” He holds out his hand, slowly taking her small one, and guides her down onto his lap. Before she settles herself, he quickly grabs one of the smaller pillows to lies it on his thighs and lets her climb it. “Go to sleep. Stevie and I are here.” She doesn’t nod but she rolls herself into a ball, curled around the bear. Her eyes are closed and for a second, she fears the pictures will return instantly but she’s relieved as that’s not the case. She concentrates on Bucky’s warm, big hand on her back while drifting off.

* * *

The man that’s holding her hand has a fierce grip on it. Y/N doesn’t really understand what’s happening. She hasn’t got an answer after she asked for her parents, the man just had rushed down the street without a word. Soon he had pushed her into a car and after that, she must have fallen asleep. Now they walk through unknown halls with people she has never seen. The man's still silent, not saying anything. At first, she had thought he was a friend of her mum but now she isn’t as sure anymore. She’s afraid and has cried but kept silent. The other people that they go past don’t even look at her and if they do, they don’t show any sign that she would describe as pity or empathy. Suddenly the man stops walking. She looks up at him and then to the door. It’s big and looks heavy, not like the door to her room at home. “Where are we going?” She looks back at the man but he ignores her, instead he pushes the door open and leads her inside only to lift her up and set he into a chair. There are more people around now. Men and Women in white coats, a man in a suit and a woman in a dress. It looks like the one her mum wears when she meets with her dad at work. The people in the room run around her not even noticing her and the man that was with her the whole time now steps back and leaves the room. The fear she has felt spiraled a little and she curls herself together. She doesn’t know where she is, she doesn’t know anyone and she doesn’t have her little dolphin plushie to keep her company. The man and the woman that has been standing at the wall now walk up to her. They look nice enough, the woman even smiles a little at her. “How’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.” She speaks silently, wiping some tears away from her face. “And how old are you?”

“S-seven. Where am I? Where’s my mommy?”

“What animals can you shift to?” Y/N blinks once, then twice. Not only has the woman not answered her but she knows of her ability. Y/N’s mum and dad always told her to not go around and tell someone and she never did. “I want my mommy.” She starts crying again. This woman scares her. Then suddenly pain blossoms on her cheek. “I asked you a question!” her tone is sharp and she doesn’t look as friendly anymore. Y/N’s cheek throbs with pain and she clutches it while scooting as far back in her chair as she can. She’s too afraid to answer and only shakes her head. She flinches as the woman lifts her hand again, probably ready to slap her again but this time the man holds her back. “Darling, let her be. We will find out in a few days. Let us just proceed so she knows what’s up.” He smiles at the woman but Y/N can see that this smile is evil. It reminds her of one of her aunts’ friends when she promises Y/N to get sweet and then hands her these disgusting lollipops made of vegetables. Y/N watches as the woman nods and steps back. The man comes forward, smiling at her but then grabs her wrist and puts them on the armrests of the chair, and binds them to them. “W-where are you doing? Where’s my daddy?”

“Oh, did no one told you?” The man looks with pity at her while he now sets something on her head and attaches some strings to it. Then he attaches something to her chest after opening her pajama top. “Your mommy and your daddy don’t love you anymore. They don’t like your ability and want you gone.”

“Noo… They love me.” She cries again. Can it be true? Her mum always tells her how much she loves her, that she is her little miracle. And her daddy always tells her she’s his little princess. “Oh, you sure? Why are you here then?” he waves an arm around to show her again that she’s all alone under all these strange people. “Your parents want us to find out why you are as you are and to make it stop so you can come back and they can be a family again. Without a freak baby girl.” Big sobs wrack her body but she can’t do anything against it. And she can’t say anything. Only a split second later the man steps back with yet another gin and then. There’s only pain.

* * *

She opens her eyes, confused about where she is. It’s bright outside, so it’s not night. A warm hand lies on her back and she looks around to find the interior of the common room. Nat’s sitting on the couch Y/N remembers her being on and on closer inspection, she sees that she’s still sitting on Bucky’s lap. The man is sleeping peacefully with his head bedded on Steve’s. Her eyes dart around as the feeling of fear grows in her. She knows that it only was a dream, a memory that’s way back into her childhood, that nothing the man had told her was true. But on the other side, she has lived with that lie for four years of her kidnapping and her mom… She hasn’t taken it well that her only child was taken right out of their home while she was sleeping only two doors next to her. She had committed suicide two months before they finally had found her. Her dad then had moved away with Y/N, out of their old little town into the big city to try and start anew. Even through all the therapies, he got her she still suffers the effects of the four years. And right now, she desperately needs comfort. She hasn’t noticed that she’s shivering until she gets taken off from the pillow and pressed to a broad chest. The smell alone is enough for her to know that it's Steve who picked her up. “Hey, doll. Are you alright? Another nightmare?” She doesn’t nod, instead, she quickly hides her face in his shirt and holds on tight, her tail wrapping tightly around Steve’s wrist. “Hey, hey. It’s alright. Your perfectly safe here.” Y/N only tightens her grip but looks up at him. He must see something in her eyes because he sits up straight, startling Bucky awake. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Why?” Bucky yawns but as soon as Steve stands up and Bucky sees Y/N in his arms he seems to understand. He disposes of the pillow but grabs the bear that has fallen to the ground. “Here, doll. Cappy might help a bit, yeah?” as fast as she can She takes the toy with a sad chirping and hides back in Steve’s chest. The whole way to their shared room she can’t stop the shivers or the picture of the two people that started her suffering. It’s as if the images burned themselves into her mind. No matter how much energy she pushes into it, she can’t get rid of them. She loses track of time quickly swirling yet another time in the pain that had come over her, in the torture she had endured, and in the pictures of other suffering children she had seen in that few years. Some of them she has never seen again. Today she knows they hadn’t made it through these ‘tests’. “Y/N!” Her head snaps up quickly. Steve looks down at her with a pained expression. She notices now that they are already in Steve’s room, sitting on his bed. “I’ve called you a few times now. How about we change, yeah? Cuddling is easier that way. Buck’s getting the laptop and beamer ready so we can watch a movie.” She’s not really able to answer but clings to Steve with all that’s left. Then she nods end lets go. While she shifts, she hears herself let out a sob. It sounds strange, some kind of screeching like an animal but equal like a human sob. The shaking intensifies but Steve comforts her, pressing her naked body against his. He cradles her head to his chest, even leaning back on the bed while she shifts so that she’s comfortingly leaning against him. Even after the shift, she lies against him sobbing. She hears Bucky come close and soon gets covered by a light blanket while he wraps his arms around her. “Hey, baby.” Bucky presses a kiss against her head. “How about we coot a little to let Steve lie against the headboard, hm?” Y/N notices Bucky’s hands gripping her. He is careful but Y/N is transported back into her dream with more tortures she had to endure. The screams broke free without her noticing. The hands pull her and the blood rushes in her ears. She hears screaming that’s faint and not coming from her, she feels more hands gripping on her, wetness in her face. She starts kicking and punching, everything to get the hands away from her, to not let herself be dragged to the room with the whips and collars. And then, suddenly… There’s calm.

There are warm lips on her forehead, arms circling around her waist and a broad chest against her back. She hears murmuring in her ears. Soft whispering voices paired with soft touches. All around her is warmth and the cold that has shaken her body is completely gone. The fear in her body slowly ebbs away but she still doesn’t dare to open her eyes. “Shh, doll. I’m sorry but you’re safe, you’re safe.” The voice sounds thick with emotions. “Y/N?” Another pair of hands join her body, one hand slowly stroking over her arm, while the other cups her cheek, thumb rubbing tears away. “Can you look at me?” Involuntary, she shakes her head. She’s not ready to open her eyes. What if she’s dreaming? What if the people she wants to see aren’t here? What if… What if she’s still there?

“Hey, hey. Darling, come on.” Lips press again on her head; hands rub her skin in comfort. Slowly she peels her eyes open, just for a second. She sees Steve’s concerned face and hears a faint sniffle, right behind her ear. Dread fills her stomach. She knows these kinds of sniffles. Turning lightly, she finds Bucky’s face. It’s white and pale with streaks of teas on the skin. “B-Buck...?” She whispers, silently but he hears her. He sends her a watery smile and tightens his arms. “I’m okay, doll. I’m sorry I startled you. I’m sorry.” Y/N’s head empties from her worry and guilt, from her fear and dreams. All senses are focused on Bucky, on comfiting the man that helped her through so much. She sits up a little but his arms press her against him again. She struggles a little against him until he finally losses his grip. In a blink of an eyelash, she turns herself and flings her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him and taking him down with her. She can hear his head bump against the headboard but she ignores it in favor of pressing her lips against his. He makes a small confused sound but then turns it instantly into a moan, his arms tightening. Behind them is a chuckle. Y/N quickly turns around and grabs the wrist that’s the closest to her, pulling it in. “Woooh… Y/N.” Steve laughs almost tripping over and landing on her and Bucky but he catches himself in the last moment, though, it's to no use. Bucky pulls him down on top of him connecting their lips in a loving kiss. Y/N watches for a second before she drapes her free arm around Steve’s neck as well, connecting her forehead to the sides of them. “Thank you. I love you two.”

“We love you, too.” And all of a sudden, she has two pairs of lips against her forehead, two pairs of loving arms around her, and two favorite people that comfort her. Two people, she loves the most.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve x bucky x reader #steve x bucky #steve x reader #bucky x steve #bucky x reader #Yuulina writes #Fauna's save heaven

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robin-the-enby · 4 years ago

Text

Bliss

Pairing: Grell Sutcliff x f!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

Summary: Grell's love language are gifts. And since you two haven't spent much time together, she takes you on a shopping date.

A/N: This is set in the era when the anime takes place, so the reader is feminine. I also used she/her pronouns when referring to Grell.

* * * * *

Who would've thought that being a reaper would require so much paperwork? The last place one would expect bureaucracy was the afterlife. It almost made her regret how she chose to end her previous life. Almost.

Of course she couldn't bring herself to hate it completely. After all, it wasn't that bad. Just boring. Although that is an enormous understatement in her opinion. She just thinks she could be doing something much more interesting with her time than spending hours filling out papers being scolded by her higher-ups (ehm ehm William ehm ehm) afterwards, only to have to fill them out again.

The second reason was you. At the end of the day, when a very physically and mentally tired William told her to get out of his sight with a heavy sigh and she could finally come back to you in the middle of the night, when you were fast asleep and she could see the open book laying on your slowly rising and falling chest and the still lit candle as you tried once again to stay awake so that you could welcome your girlfriend home, it was all worth it. If she hadn't became a reaper, she would have never met you and at this point, such a life was unimaginable for Grell.

Unfortunately for both of you, you couldn't enjoy your nights together very well, because Grell was needed at work earlier than you had the will to wake up.

The first thing your conscious mind registered was the chirping of birds. Next was the sunlight on your eyelids, like an angry mob banging on a witch's door. You felt like you could lay there for the whole day, just listening to those beautiful sounds and feeling the light on your eyelids shift as the day passed.

You felt the space next to you with your hand, the action automatical and always with the same result. As your hand was met only with cold, ruffled sheets, you opened your eyes.

Sighing with disappointment that your momentary bliss was over, you made your way to your wardrobe to get ready for the day ahead of you.

As you sat in front of the mirror, touching up your face just a bit with makeup, you couldn't help but smile as your sight landed on your girlfriend's part of the cosmetic table. It would never be true bliss without her here, you though as the tip of your pointer finger lightly traced Grell's bright red lipstick.

A series of sharp knocks rippled through the air, interrupting the constant chattering of people and tweeting of birds flowing into the room through the open window. A melodic voice you knew all too well called out to you like a siren "Oh daaaaaaaarling!"

You got up from your chair with such force that you nearly knocked it over. But even if you did, you wouldn't have payed it any mind, for your thoughts were focused only on the person standing in the open door to your shared home. You rushed through the rooms, your heart hammering like a humming bird in your chest, your mind barely able to comprehend that this wasn' a dream. But when you caught a glimpse of your girlfriend's bright red hair and her mischievous green eyes, you couldn't help but grin in glee.

Speeding trhough the hallway to close the distance between you two, you threw yourself at her, nearly toppling Grell over with the force of your attack. Her arms immediately snaked around your waist, bringing you closer to her. Pressing a kiss to your temple, she chuckled in your ear "My my, what a greeting. Wouldn't expect anything less from my love." and laughed some more when she heard a muffled "I missed you." coming from where you burried your face in her clothes. With another peck to your head, Grell let go of you, looking you up and down "I see you're already dressed. Marvelous! Well then, we've got places to be, chop chop!" She clapped her hands and turned you around and lead you where your shoes were.

You couldn't help but stare with a shocked expression on your face "Places to be? Waitwaitwait, slow down honey, tell me what's going on!" you tried to reason with her as you tied your shoelaces.

As soon as you straightened up again, Grell was immediately ushering you out the door with a sweet smile on her face. "It's simple darling, William gave me a few days off and since we haven't spent much time together, I decidedvto take you on a date. There's a lot of places I'd like to take you to and the day is oh so short." the redhead explained, purposefully leaving out the details, such as the way dear William let her take a few days off. You didn't need to know the details after all, it was all boring, some shouting and pleading here, some threats and annoying the superior reaper there. Bureaucracy. Boring and unimportant.

What mattered was the present. Arms linked, you two walked along the streets of London, chatting and giggling. Grell was very fond of showing affection wherever she went, to the point where it was almost inapropriate. But nobody really cared, since most people still saw your girlfriend as a man, despite her untraditional looks. It saddened you a little, that others did not see her for who she really was, but you supposed it was for the better.

Grell insisted that this date was albout about you. After leaving you alone for so long, even if not by her choice, she needs to spoil you. You told her you’re not mad at her, on the contrary actually, just to be sure she knows that and doesn’t feel like she has to do this for you. Your loving girlfriend only rewarded you with a beaming smile and assured you that it’s nothing like that and that you don’t need to worry, before resuming in showering you in compliments and praises, as well as gifts.

Yes, Grell really had the day planned out to a T. First, she took you to a dressmaker, the lovely lady seemingly expecting you already, greeting Grell like an old friend. She explained to you that she was a regular here and that you don’t need to worry about anything, because this lovely lady is one of the best seamstresses in the area. And she wasn’t lying. The seamstress discussed every detail of the dress with you, the fabric, shape and adornments. And while she took your measurements, Grell kept gushing and almost purring about how ravishing you’ll look in your new dress, how you chose a perfect colour that brings out your eyes and will surely make your skin glow and that she won’t be able to keep her hands off you, making you blush a nice red colour which she immediately complimented as well and in turn making the seamstress gush about what a cute couple you are.

Then you two stopped at a bakery to pick up some bread, which she let you pay for after some begging, and after that went to a nice, quiet park with a small pond where you two fed and watched different kinds of ducks and a pair of swans. Both of your hearts melted at the sight of small ducklings following their mothers in a line like toddlers in kindergarten on a walk. You pointed out to each other when a duck did something funny or cute, which happened very often.

Seeing those adorable birds eat made your stomach grumble. Grell looked over at your embarassed face and giggled “You should’ve said you were hungry my dear! I could go for some food myself.” she said thoughtfully, tapping a finger on her chin. And before you could say red, she was already tugging you in the direction of a restaurant that she wanted to check out for quite some time now, but was waiting for the right moment, so she could bring you along as well. The food there was nothing short of delicious.

Lastly she asked you directly if you’d like to go somewhere. You thought for a while, trying to come up with a way to reward her for this amazing day, you got a brilliant idea. “Close your eyes.” you instructed the reaper softly “And don’t open them until I tell you to.” Linking your arm through hers, you began to slowly and carefully guide your curious girlfriend to a flowershop you passed one day on your way from the market. You still had some money on you and figured you’d buy her some flowers, which you were sure would make Grell happy.

“Stay here, don’t move a muscle, I’ll be right back.” you said softly “And don’t open your eyes.” you reprimanded her jokingly. Grell for once did as she was told and stood exactly where you left her, rocking on the balls of her feet, until you stood in front of her again. She could tell, because you were wearing a perfume she gave you for Christmas. “Alright, open your eyes.” you told her.

As soon as that sentence came out of your mouth, Grell’s eyes flew open in anticipation. She was met with your face on which a cheeky smile had bloomed and it was clear you were holding something behind your back. You pulled out a bouquet of red spider lillies and blood red poppies with a soft ‘ta-daa’ escaping your lips. Grell switched her gaze from the gift you got her to your face, her eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun. She looked on the verge of tears, moved by the loving gesture. You took one lilly from the tightly tied up bouquet and put it softly in her hair “Looking beautiful as ever my love.” you cooed softly. Grell’s smile got even wider, if that was possible and before you could stop her, she was already pressing kisses and little pecks all over your face, enjoying your happy squeaks. An elderly couple passed the two of you, without either you or your girlfriend noticing, the man scoffing “Young people don’t know anything about manners these days...” While his wife patted him gently on the arm he had linked with hers and smiled “Oh leave them be Richard. We weren’t any different when we were young.”

Your legs were rather tired after the long day and you both agreed to go home. Even though this day was nearly over, you couldn’t wait for the next morning to come, so that you could have your morning bliss.

* * * * *

I know this isn’t for everyone, but I was in the mood for some sweet sweet fluff

#Kuroshitsuji #Black butler #Black butler Grell #Kuroshitsuji Grell #Grell Sutcliff #Grell Sutcliff x reader #Grell Sutcliff x fem reader #fem!reader #fluff #date #wlw #wlw fanfic

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