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skyward-floored · 1 year ago

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Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket

*shuffles feet*

...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).

Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓

Day 17

Read on ao3

Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight

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Getting out was a blur.

Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.

There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.

It was a struggle not to just pass out.

But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.

The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.

Link flinched anyway.

The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.

Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.

He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.

Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?

Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.

One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.

How many were there?

“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?

“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”

“Well what was I supposed to do?”

“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”

“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”

A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.

“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?” The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.

“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.

He swallowed.

“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.

“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”

“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?

All he was was a battery.

“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”

They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?

The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.

Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.

Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.

He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.

Sunlight.

Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.

He was outside.

He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.

He was out.

He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.

It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.

Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.

Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.

(...)

The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.

Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.

Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.

He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.

Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.

“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.

“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.

What all did he go through in there?

“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.

“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.

Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.

“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.

“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”

Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.

“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.

It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.

Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.

“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.

“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”

“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”

Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he whispered.

Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.

It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.

But that can wait.

Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.

But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.

“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.

“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.

Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.

“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”

“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.

“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”

Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—

Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.

The Shadow will pay for this.

“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.

He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.

You’re safe.

(...)

The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.

His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.

Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.

Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.

They couldn’t be removed.

Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.

It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.

How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.

How did you ever handle me?

Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.

His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.

Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.

But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.

Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.

It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.

Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.

And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.

(...)

Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.

“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”

“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.

He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.

He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.

The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.

“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”

And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—

He woke up.

Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—

Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—

“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”

He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.

He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.

His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.

Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.

He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—

A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.

Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.

Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.

Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.

That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.

“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”

Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.

(...)

After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.

Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.

It was wonderful.

He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.

But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.

But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.

He would keep going.

And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.

Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...

A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

...Link could wait.

#not pictured: dink being blown up by the FD next time Time sees him #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu twilight #lu time #linked universe fanfic #all the links #lu chain #whumptober 2023 #day 20 #fic #found family #blanket #writing from the floor #also not pictured: Link finding horse grass and giving epona many kisses #this is messy but I got emotional writing it and my writing gets messy when I’m emotional XD #plus a lot was written late last night haha...#anyway I hope you guys like it #I wanted to make it even even longer but I had to stop somewhere 😅

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wiypt-writes · 2 years ago

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Brothers In Arms

Part 9: Spinning Around

Summary: After hearing about the events in Boston, you come to a decision about your future…

Warnings: Bad language, violence, smut (NSFW) 18+

Pairing: MOB Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Mentions of MOB Steve Rogers x Reader.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any of the characters contained within this series bar the Reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. I do not give permission for this to be translated and/or reposted on any other platforms. Reblogs are fine: Sharing is caring.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Here we are, the penultimate chapter. Eeeek. thanks to @spectre-posts as always.

Brothers In Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 8

W/C: 6k

It wasn't long before you'd made it back to your brother. Natasha drove and you were thankful, as the entire way to the hospital your mind was distracted. Your thoughts remained on Ransom and the situation you were in.

You’d decided to call him yourself and tell him Ari was awake, instead of asking Natasha do it. It felt more real that way. And also, if you were honest, a part of you wanted to hear his voice.

You hadn’t been prepared, however, for the fact that the first thing he’d basically asked when you’d called was if there was something wrong with you or the baby. It was something you’d seen and heard other expectant fathers ask their pregnant partners when they called, and it had made you feel all sorts of emotions.

You still didn’t know what you were going to do about the baby. Your heart and mind were so conflicted, not only over that but Ransom. It all made your head hurt when you thought about it.

Setting foot into your brother's room, you noticed that there was a crowd. Ari in bed; looking more colorful than when you'd left him, Sam, Kebede and Max all stood round. Their words were in a hushed tone as they conversed. Silence began the moment you appeared in the doorway.

“What…what’s going on?” You asked, dropping the bag of Ari’s belongings onto one of the free chairs as Natasha hung back a little. She then excused herself as her phone rang, ducking out to answer.

"There's been a development," Ari spoke with zero emotion, as if he were back on the job.

You felt flushed from the inside out, heat coursing through you in a panic you hadn't yet identified. You felt your stomach knot as you asked, "what do you mean?"

"Walt's dead, Steve's dead and Ransom has been stabbed," Ari looked at you and no one else as he answered. He wanted you to know there was not one iota of mistruth in what he told you.

You blinked, “what…Walt? I…” and then your brain registered what else he had said, and your stomach stopped. “Ran…he’s…is he okay?”

Sammy stepped forward to catch you as you started to wobble, "sit down, love."

"I don't know," Ari admitted.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You looked at Ari, “what…what happened?”

"I called and when he answered he was in bad shape," your brother, again, replied stoically. "He asked for help, then the line went dead.

“But you got him help, right?”

"If they got to him in time," he nodded. "I haven't heard either way."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you were about to give your brother a full verbal lashing for his blasé attitude but you stopped yourself. Ari was angry about what Ransom did to you and what had happened to him. And deep down you knew he had every right to be.

But that didn’t stop you worrying about Ransom. Because despite everything, you still loved him.

“Harlan found him.”

You turned to look at Natasha, who waved her phone in explanation as she stepped into the room. “He’s lost a lot of blood but he’s alive.”

Your chest shuddered as the breath you held let go. Your left hand covered your mouth while your right clutched your chest, just over your heart. "I need to go, now. The fastest you can get me there," you looked only at Natasha. If you'd looked at your brother, you knew already the look on his face would be of sad eyes and disappointment. He'd try to delay your exit possibly only to talk you out of leaving in his mind.

Natasha nodded, “Harlan suspected you might say that. His private jet is on the way.”

You stood slowly and began to walk forward, one foot out the threshold when Ari stopped you.

"Y/N," he spoke. When you turned to face him, he spoke again, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

You took a deep breath and shook your head, a tear trickling down your cheek. “I don’t know what I want, but I need to see him, Ari. I still love him. I’m not asking you for permission, or for you to understand because fuck knows I don’t understand it myself. But I need to go.”

"Alright," he nodded. Ari looked to Max, "get her there safe. Then get back here so we can figure out how to clean this shit up. If he survives, that bastard owes me the rest of his life."

"Sure thing, boss," Max spoke with his gravely East Coast accent. He turned toward you and Natasha, with a single nod, and Nat began to follow. You took a final glance at your brother.

"Thank you," you whispered. Ari nodded and you were beyond the threshold.

*****

Less than three hours later you were touching down in Boston. A car was waiting for you and Natasha, and she gently ushered you over the tarmac of the private air field towards it, Max casting a watchful eye from the top of the steps.

A familiar face was waiting for you in the driver’s seat.

“Carter…” it was almost a relief to see his face.

"Doll," he nodded at you.

"How's..." you began but Carter interrupted you as Natasha slid in beside you.

“He’s in a bad way, but being cared for by the best.” Carter swallowed. “I’m under instructions to take you straight to the house.”

“The house, is he not…”

“He’s being cared for by Doctors at Harlan’s mansion. We couldn’t call the authorities…too many questions.”

You had a few questions of your own, especially now you’d had an entire flight to sit and think about them.

“What happened? I know Steve stabbed him, but what…”

“Mr Thrombey has asked that I let him explain. He’s waiting for you, I’m under instructions to send you to see him before you see Ransom.”

"No, I want to see Ransom first, Carter," your voice held a pleading tone.

"Harlan first." Carter said firmly. He wasn't about to negotiate.

“Why does everyone in this damned family get off on pushing me around?” You grumbled.

Natasha caught your under-breath comment and smirked, "it keeps their dicks bigger. Mobsters lose control, they lose their rights."

You glanced at her, and she gave you a small smile as you scoffed.

The drive to Harlan’s was a familiar one, you’d been plenty of times before. Soon, Carter was pulling the car up to the front of the house. You didn’t even wait for it to stop before you opened the door to let yourself out.

"She's eager," Carter joked with Natasha as you left the door open.

Fran, Harlan's housemaid, thew open the door just as you reached for the handle. "He's in his study," she directed you.

You nodded, walking down the hall, ignoring both Ransom’s mother and father as your sneakers squeaked on the well-polished tiles. The mahogany doors were heavy as you pushed both open with your palms flat on their surface. You didn't even bother knocking, and frankly, you didn't give a shit. You wanted the answers you were seeking and you wanted to see Ransom.

Harlan wasn’t surprised to see you, he was stood by the window, clearly having seen you arrive.

“Y/N.” He gave you a soft smile.

“Where’s Ransom?” Your voice was quiet.

"He's upstairs," the oldest Thrombey said with softness. "You can see him in a moment, if you choose to after we talk. Have a seat."

"I'd rather stand," you stood your ground.

"Alright," he nodded.

You took a deep breath, waiting for Harlan to explain.

“The feud between Ransom and Steve, the one which you were regrettably caught in the middle of. It was started by Walt.”

You felt your jaw go slack as your brows furrowed and eyes squinted. "What?"

“Walter ordered the hit that went wrong. He’s the reason Peggy is dead and the reason Steve…well…” he trailed off.

“You know?” You whispered.

Harlan nodded. “Ari came to me, not long after it happened.”

“I know, I just wasn’t sure if he told you everything.”

Harlan took a deep breath as you licked your lips.

"Why am I just hearing this?" You shook your head, "So much could have been...I could..."

"Unfortunately, this is how these things play out. It's pathetic really. Cliché dramas that sometimes translate from screen to life." Harlan’s tone was gentle. A little like you found the man himself to be, despite the fact he was a ruthless mob boss. “That and I didn’t know.” Harlan shook his head. “‘None of us did, not until photos of Walt meeting with Rumlow emerged.”

“Photos?”

Harlan nodded. “Copies were sent to both your brother and Ransom.”

"Who took them?"

“No idea.” Harlan shrugged. “And I don’t think it matters much. Not now. Steve got his revenge, and then Ransom got his.”

Harlan studied you for a moment as you took the entire situation in. He watched as your face screwed up a little and you pinched the bridge of your nose, a desperate attempt to keep yourself from crying. Almost as if you didn’t want to give into the jumble of emotions you were feeling. Like you didn’t want to show weakness, or admit to anyone other than yourself that you cared what had happened to either of them.

But he knew you did, because you were here.

To Harlan, it was no wonder Ransom had fallen for you the way he had. You took crap from no one, but yet underneath it all, you were an incredibly kind hearted and loving person. You rounded off Ransom’s gruff and rough edges perfectly. And, as he stood there now, watching you in his study, it struck the older man exactly how much you reminded him of someone he knew extremely well, and missed every single day.

You looked to him after a moment or two and wondered about the expression on his face. It was like he was somewhere else, but not quite, caught in a memory almost. And as you watched, a soft smile spread across his face.

“Forgive me, but you’re a lot like Ransom’s mother, you know. Fierce, strong, independent. Well, she was until Rogers sucked it out of her. God I hated him. Cruel twist of fate really that the boys looked so much like him. Steve is…was his double, and well, apart from Ransom’s hair colour, he is too.”

At that you frowned, “their hair colour?”

“Steve is…was blonde, Ransom isn’t.”

You frowned. “Steve…had different hair colour?”

Harlan nodded.

Your frown deepened. You’d done everything you could to push that night from your mind. But…how could you have not noticed? You swallowed as you tried and tried to remember. The bathroom had been dimly lit, it wasn’t like you’d really had chance to look at his hair either…but then you shook your head.

“That’s not possible.” You looked at Harlan, “they’re identical twins!”

Harlan gave you a curious glance, “they’re not identical, Honey. They’re fraternal. Or they were. I mean, they did look ridiculously alike, but there are subtle differences, the hair colour being one, and then there’s a slight height difference, not much but…”

You swallowed, again zoning out of the conversation as the impact of Harlan’s revelation hit you.

You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know for sure who was your baby’s father. A paternity test for identical twins would mean shit, as they had identical DNA. But fraternal ones however, did not. And now, you were fast realising that there was a way for you to find out if the baby you were carrying belonged to Ransom.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harlan’s voice cut through the fog and you looked at him, nodding.

Your face felt void of emotion but your mind and heart were overflowing in competitive thoughts, "is he going to live?"

“Yes,” Harlan nodded. “He's battered and bruised, lost a lot of blood but they've patched him up. Unlike your brother, his spleen remains in act and nothing else was damaged apart from some muscle in his rib cage.”

The shaky breath you inhaled opened up your emotions for your eyes to flood, "I want to see him."

Harlan nodded. “He’s sleeping at the moment, still undergoing the blood transfusion, but he’ll be glad to see you. I haven’t mentioned you were coming in case you changed your mind.”

"Where?"

"Upstairs, the guest room to the left after the landing," he softly spoke. “The one the pair of you usually, well, did usually stay in.”

"Thank you," you whispered. You'd only just stood when Harlan spoke your name. You waited for him to continue.

"Ransom has not made the best choices," he sighed, "but despite the unbearable act he's done to you, I know he loves you. I'm not trying to sway a decision for you, my dear. I only speak my truths with those I care for and you, no matter what, will always be a part of this family."

You swallowed, nodding as you licked your lips. “I…I still love him too, Harlan, but what I don’t know is whether if that’s gonna be enough, not after all this.”

Harlan seemed to have had an understanding for he only nodded once, dismissing you to go. So, with a deep breath, you headed up the grandiose staircase and turned to the left. You stopped at the cracked open door and closed your eyes. Your hands were shaking and your throat felt dry. Your eyes stung with salty tears but you took a steeling breath anyway and slowly cracked the door open enough for you to step in.

Looking small, feeble even, with his complexion pale, Ransom looked anaemic already. There was a canula under his nose along with a half full bag of blood which was being administered via IV into the back of his left hand. His body was covered by blankets and you stopped halfway between the door and the foot of the large bed, listening to the beeps and bleeps of the heart monitor.

His hair was out of place only a little, cuts and bruises, even dried blood was still visible and the sight worried and scared you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed the space between he and you. There was already a chair on his left side, presumably from Linda, whom no doubt had sat there to at least show face and play the part of worried mother so those on staff and the goons in and out of the house would buy into it. You didn't, not really.

You took a seat at his right side and glanced down at your shaking hands. They felt cold even by your own touch. Worrying them in your lap, you slowly looked up, your eyes roaming over your former lover and fiancé.

As you sat there you tried to figure out why had Ransom not corrected you when you’d said there could be no way to know which one of the brothers had fathered your unborn child.

Why would he lie? The only plausible reason you could think of was that he didn’t want to know, and he didn’t want you to know either. Was this some cruel attempt to keep control of you?

“If you keep it…I’ll support you. I’ll do whatever, be as involved as a father or as not involved as you want, but you’ll want for nothing. Either of you. Whatever you decide…”

Whatever you decide…

“Oh, Ran…” you sniffed, your hand reached for his right. You gently held it, your thumb skating softly over his bruises and split knuckles as you looked at his face. “This is such a fucking mess.”

*****

The beeping of his alarm was most certainly not welcome. Ransom was too warm, too comfortable.

There was a sleep laden grumble that wanted to force its way out of his throat but instead he grunted and slung his arm out to shut the damn thing off on his phone.

But his phone wasn’t there.

Odd.

Nevertheless, the noise stopped and he turned himself over onto his other side, and felt the tickle of hair on his face.

He cracked an eye open, in surprise more than anything. You were here. Back in his bed. After everything…

His brow twitched downward and his chest tightened a bit. He sat up onto his elbow and took you in fully.

You were led on your side, back to him, the bed covers pulled up to your chin. Your features soft as you slept.

His hand reached out to run a knuckle over your cheek but he stopped. What if he touched you and you melted away? What if he touched you and you just vanished. But he had to know. So, he curled his first and fingers, delicately dragging them over your cheekbone towards your ear and down your jaw. You were real, you were there. He knew so now, his fingers over your soft skin. So kept going, slowly down your neck, pulling back that bedding just a bit.

His hand paused at the crook of your shoulder, before it carried on, slipping underneath the comforter. He traced a line down your ribs, your naked body felt just as he remembered.

His heart filled with so many emotions. And those very emotions tickled his nose and made his eyes pool. His hand now opened wide and splayed over your little swollen belly.

The second his palm came to rest over the life which was growing inside of you, a long breath left his nose. It relaxed his chest and dropped his shoulders.

You stirred a little, your nose twitching in that adorable way it did when you were someplace between sleep and consciousness.

His thumb swept up and down over your skin. His eyes flicked between your face and what he was doing. His mind whirring.

How did he get to this? How was this possible? Did he die and now this is his purgatory?

A soft sigh left you as Ransom shuffled and snuggled into you as closely as he could get. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, inhaling deeply.

"Hi...." you whispered as your arm covered his as it wrapped over you.

“Hi, Princess…”

"You been up long?"

“No,” his lips brushed your skin again. “Just woke…”

You hummed a little smile.

“I love you.” He whispered, his lips moving to your neck.

"We love you too."

His lips curved into a smile against your skin before he sniffed. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

You were caught off guard by the comment, "why wouldn't I be?" You turned your body towards him a little more so as not to crane your neck so hard.

“Because I’m a no good, son of a bitch who treat you like shit.”

"What? Did you have a bad dream or something?" You grew concerned. "Ransom, are you okay?"

That was when he noticed it, the sparkle and twinkle on your left hand.

“I…I…I don’t know.” He whispered.

You turned completely over, "hey," you cupped his cheek with your left hand, "whatever it is, it's okay. I'm here, baby. You can tell me."

He sighed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter…I have a feeling I’m dreaming now and…I just wanna stay here with you for as long as possible.”

You smiled warmly with a slight shake of your head. "Oh Ran...."

“I love you…and I’m so sorry…” he sniffed, as he pressed his lips to yours.

He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. It had been so long since ha had last kissed you.

You pulled back just a breath's distance, "I don't know," you kissed him, "what you're sorry for," your lips ghosted his. "But I love you too." You kissed him one more time, "soon we won't get mornings like this."

“Let’s make the most of it…” he whispered, his lips back on yours as his hand cupped your cheek.

He felt you shiver a bit as you hummed at his touch.

His lips never left yours as he eased himself over you, a little more, his hand sliding down your body and coming to rest at your hip.

He gave his baby in your belly enough space as he held himself up with his free arm. That hand at your hip gently rubbed along your skin as he moved down your thigh. His strong hand curled under knee and lifted your leg over his hip, opening you up for him.

You sighed, your nails running lightly up his back, coming to rest in the shorter strands of his hair at the back. Your eyes met his, and he saw nothing but love. A stark contrast to the fear and hurt he had seen in them the last time you’d been under him.

"I love you so much," he whispered with tears in his eyes. "Forgive me, baby, please forgive me." He whimpered as he bent to kiss you again, "I'm so sorry." His final apology was spoke against your lips. And whilst he kissed you, he slipped into you.

He choked a little as your body responded to him. Your leg hooked round him, heel digging into his ass. Your head sank further into the pillows, leaving your neck bare for him to lavish affection on with his mouth and tongue.

You were made for him.

How could he have ever hurt you the way he had? Why had he ever doubted you? He was disgusted. Ashamed.

Walt hadn’t made him do that to you. Neither had Steve. He did it himself. Blinded by the hurt and anger, he’d brutally fucked you, despite you asking him not to.

Ransom knew this wasn’t real. Each thrust and roll of his hips was ecstasy but he knew, it was all in his head.

Or he was dead, and this was his new forever.

Either way, he didn’t want it to end.

There was a sharp pain in his side, one which made him hiss and close his eyes in discomfort. And when he opened them, your features were blurring, as if he was seeing them through a dirty window.

“No, please…don’t…don’t go…” he begged.

You opened your mouth, his name a whisper, your voice soft and faraway.

And then there was that damned alarm again. A persistent, annoying fucking beeping.

*****

Your eyes looked to the monitor as Ransom's heart rate had sped up. It worried you, your hand squeezing his.

“Ransom…” you spoke, your voice croaky. “Ran…”

"You came," he said hoarsely. Then he flinched as that searing pain came again.

“Yeah…” you squeezed his hand again, your heart thudding at the fact he was awake. “I did.”

“I didn’t…didn’t know if you would.” His speech was slow, quiet and you took a deep breath.

“Just take a moment, let me go find the doctor. I’m assuming he or she is around somewhere.”

His hand squeezed around yours, a silent plea for you to stay.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

You quickly headed out into the landing and called out for anyone. Fran immediately appeared from one of the other bedrooms and you looked at her.

“He’s awake…and he’s in a lot of pain.”

She nodded, “the doctor is in with Harlan, Linda and Richard, I’ll go get him.”

You nodded and return to Ransom's side. You knew a conversation needed to be had, but you weren't about to have it when doctors, and most likely his parents, were about to barge in.

"It'll be just a minute," you told him.

He nodded and lay back, his eyes closing.

“Can’t believe the cunt stabbed me.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, well, you killed him so…I’d say you came out on top.” You swallowed as you looked at your hand where it still held his.

The doctor and, as you predicted, Linda and Richard came in quickly. His mother gave you a jerk of her head, but Richard barely registered your existence not that you cared. You’d never given much of a shit about either of them to be honest.

You went to move from the chair to give them space. But Ransom's hold on your hand remained. You weren't going anywhere. You looked at him, squeezing right back, "It's okay."

You glanced up at the doctor, he wasn’t someone you recognised but it didn’t surprise you. The Thrombey firm had many a professional on its payroll, all of whom were willing to look the other way for backhanders.

You zoned out as he began to talk, instead your eyes simply focussed on your hand which was wrapped around Ransom’s battered one.

You inspected his knuckles, the bruises and the cuts that were raw and still covered with dried blood. In fact, you'd noticed that most of his still had some remnants of the blood bath he no doubt endured with his brother. You barely registered the doctor working on him and stepping away.

It was all a blur.

But what broke through was the stern tone he had with Linda when he told them to go. Your glance shot up from his hand to his face. That busted lip moved as he spoke again.

"I want to talk to Y/N, alone. I don't need the two of you squabbling and worrying with your bullshit feelings right now."

Linda took a deep breath. “Son, we’re just…it’s a big shock. You, here like this. Steve…Steve dead…”

"Go, Linda." He demanded.

“Ransom…” Harlan spoke from the door, his voice soft but stern.

Ransom groaned, “I’m sorry mom, but please. Go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

"Alright," she relented. Richard waled her out, his hands on her forearms. Harlan gave the two of you a nod and walked away.

Just before the doctor made his last check on Ransom, he spoke, "These won't take long to kick in. So, just so you're aware, you may nod off."

Ransom nodded.

Once the doctor was gone, you took a deep breath and turned back to him. You didn't know how to start, and maybe he didn't either. But the conversation needed to be had. So you started with the obvious. "Why?"

"It had to be done," he simply stated as if there were no other choice. "Walt and Steve both deserved it. This could have all been avoided." He settled himself with a wince. "Walt's wrecklessness caused a war. No matter what happens between you and I, I couldn't let Steve get away with what he'd done to you. I told Ari I’d kill him. And I did.”

“But I don’t understand, why did Walt arrange the hit in the first place?”

“Apparently he wanted the head seat and if he could frame me for Steve’s death it would lead the way. But…I don’t know, the more I think about it, the more I can’t understand it myself. But then Walt never was the sharpest tool in the box.”

"So this was over a seriously bent ego and power struggle?" You were deeply frowning as you registered Ransom’s explanation.

“That’s what Walt explained before Steve put a bullet in his head.”

You sighed. It hurt to think about all the logistics and how much damage was caused. How confusing even the smallest details were because of one man's jealousy. It trickled so far down the line that it had even affected you. Ari had become a target, he'd nearly died. And that assessment didn't even include what had happened to you. How Ransom had treated you, what he'd done to you. It was a lot to take in. But you had to press on, "And Steve? How..."

Ransom sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. “He…he figured it out. That you’re pregnant.” Ransom blinked heavily as he looked back to you. “When he stabbed me, he said he’d find you, and take you and the baby…and if it was the last thing I did, I wasn’t gonna let that happen. So I shot him. Same way be shot Walt, right between the eyes.”

You swallowed as Ransom took a deep breath, wincing a little as he did.

“And I don’t regret it. What I do regret is the fact I hurt you, that I…I forced myself on you the way I did. I should have listened and believed you…and I’ll never forgive myself.”

You bowed your head and sighed. Your words stuck to your tongue like glue on a paper. You weakly nodded and lifted your eyes to meet his.

“I know, we never really talked about kids, I just thought it would be something we figured out together along the way. But…I meant what I said.” Ransom licked his lips, “I’ll support you in anyway that you want or need. I’m not expecting you to forgive me for what I did. I don’t expect you to take me back. But, if you wanna keep the baby, I’ll be there for you both.

“Even if it isn’t yours?” You asked softly.

As his eyes looked at yours, he blinked slowly. “You know, don’t you? About me and Steve, how we’re not…”

You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?.”

Ransom licked his lips. “I was scared…” He took a deep breath, a grimace on his face. “I should have, but…I was scared that if you knew, you’d want to find out…and then I’d…I don’t know, if I could could…” he shook his head, “So, instead, whilst I still had hope that one day you could forgive me, then…I guess I didn’t want to know. Because whilst I didn’t for sure, then there would be a chance it is mine and for that reason alone I’d be able to love it like it is. But I see…you have a right to. That was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

In that split second, as you looked at his battered and bruised face, his eyes filled with remorseful tears, you suddenly realised there and what you wanted.

You didn’t truly understand why, after everything that happened but you did. You loved him, and the simple fact was you’d never love another in the same way. So, if Ransom was willing to go through life bringing up and loving you and your child, a child that may or may not be his, then who were you to stop him? Why would you deny your child a father? And why would you deny yourself the love of a man who you still loved with all your heart.

You didn’t need to know and, moreover, you didn’t want to know. It might be an ultimately selfish decision, but seeing as there hadn’t been a single thing in the shit show that had been your life for the last two months or so that you had been able to control, you were taking this one for yourself.

“I wanna keep it,” you spoke softly. “You’re right, the likelihood is that it is yours. And that’s…that’s good enough for me, if it is for you…”

“Y/N…” Ransom let out a little choked sob, and you sniffed, shushing him gently.

“I want you to be a part of its life.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, “and I want you to be a part of my life, too.”

#brothers in arms #mob ransom drysdale x reader #mob Ransom Drysdale x you #mob ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom Drysdale x you #Ransom Drysdale x reader #mob au #reader insert #chris evans characters

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teamchasezwrites · 9 days ago

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Scattering of Emotions

Word Count: 2,317

Characters: Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: A short look into what Seth Rollins was thinking after Extreme Rules 2019 when Brock Lesner cashed in his Money in the Bank briefcase.

Author’s Note: I wrote this earlier in the year and it’s been up on my A03 since. It’s my first WWE wrestling fic. There is a companion piece I’ll post soon.

Even knowing what was coming, Colby Lopez still felt all the emotions that came with loss. They came swift and they came hard the moment the referee’s hand smacked the mat for the final time. The bell rang signaling defeat.

He had lost.

Seth Rollins was no longer the Universal Champion.

There wasn’t even a moment to soak in any elation at winning the mixed tag match he just wrestled with his girlfriend. There wasn’t even a moment to check on her, laying on the floor outside the ring against the barricade that separated the fans from the action. He knew she would be receiving Baron Corbin’s finishing move, ‘end of days’. She knew it was coming. They had run through the move a few times leading up to the match. He would never step on Becky’s toes, but if he didn’t trust Baron, he would have never let the move happen. Regardless of what Creative wanted. Corbin was one of the safest wrestlers to work with. Though that didn’t mean Becky wasn’t feeling it.

He never got to check on her.

His music barely started signaling the win. The announcer never even announced their names as winners before being interrupted by different music. The crowd had been loud for their win. When Brock Lesner’s music started, it quieted in confusion then roared with understanding. He’d like to say they were louder for his win, but he couldn’t be too sure. He wasn’t sure if they were ecstatic about the person cashing in their Money In The Bank contract or just the fact that an audible had been pulled.

Jesus. He lost.

It still didn’t sit right with him.

It wasn’t unheard of to not know the outcome of a match until the very last minute. He’d been part of a few of those himself. This match wasn’t one he expected to be one with a last minute change. The seed had been planted for many weeks leading up the night. Paul Heyman had been on the mic jawing about Brock cashing in his contract. It was possible. He had the time it took Becky to get to the ring to prepare himself. Becky’s music had hit, there had been time for a quick kiss before she was gone to cheers of the crowd. Then he was being pulled aside. His first emotion was dread. Figuring they were actually going to have both he and Becky lose which meant they’d lose both their belts to their respective counterparts.

Baron Corbin and Lacey Evans as champions didn’t make sense. The storyline wasn’t even that good for the belts to switch hands. Creative traveled lesser paths before, so he couldn’t be too sure.

There was a crippling moment in the split second it all went down where he thought Creative decided it would be a good storyline to have Becky be pinned in the match thus causing him to lose his belt without being involved in the outcome. Then they would want to have them at odds, bickering each week, until a relationship ‘split’ happened on air. He didn’t want to do that. He was absolutely sure Becky didn’t either.

She was the one who had the most reserves about making their relationship public because of the fact their relationship could be used in storyline. Why not? It happened multiple times before. He was slightly more optimistic. After all, they were both champions. There were plenty of storylines that came with the belt alone. There wouldn’t be room to shove them together in a storyline that went nowhere for the sake of capitalizing on their relationship.

He was wrong of course.

What happened wasn’t much better.

But first…

Colby rolled over to his hands and knees staring up the ramp where Brock Lesner stood with the title around his waist. The same title he had taken off ‘The Beast’ some three months ago at WrestleMania. The roaring going through his ears gave way letting the crowd reaction slowly pierce. The Philadelphia crowd was either too stunned or too disgusted. They were a lot quieter than he believed they could be. Philadelphia was always quick to voice their displeasure. He wished they’d revolt and let the boos rain down on the arena. But he knew boos still counted as a win with Creative. So maybe silence was better. Maybe he missed the boos while he was zoned.

Lesner had disappeared behind the curtain without him realizing. He had no idea how long he was frozen in silence. Movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Becky.

Shit.

He crawled on his hands and knees toward the side of ring where she was stumbling to her feet. A referee handed her the Women’s Championship belt before quickly backing away. Colby could read the confusion in her eyes as she continued to sell the disorientation from Baron’s ‘End Of Days’. He couldn’t imagine what was going through her head laying on the floor listening as Brock’s music hit and hearing him being tossed around the ring.

After all, that’s what happened in matches with Brock. The opponent would get tossed around for a few minutes like a rag doll while Brock hit his finishing moves before finally covering for the pin. He watched it happen all too often and all too often he wondered what Creative was thinking with continuously giving the man a belt.

Becky took an uneven step forward toward the ring. Her belt hit the mat as she grabbed the lower rope. Another time he would have lightly ribbed her on the acting job, but it was then he noticed the goose egg on her forehead.

“Are you okay?” Colby asked, his eyes straying to the bump, already purple. He wondered when that happened. He watched as she nodded and grimaced as she pulled herself up onto the edge of the ring. She held an arm around her midsection. At this point he wasn’t sure anymore if she was hurt, sore, or playing a role. A combination of all three he supposed. Hell, he was all three himself.

Well aware of the cameraman standing next to Becky, filming everything, he held back asking anything more. Likewise, she stayed quiet though the questions in her eyes were loud. Sitting on his hunches, he held onto the middle rope as Becky sat on hers. Her forehead rested against the middle rope. They stared at each other each desperate for more, but still with it enough to remember their roles. Right now he was not Colby Lopez. She was not Rebecca. They were Seth Rollins and Becky Lynch.

Right now he was slightly pissed. Definitely affronted. A little sore. Full of questions.

Why did they take the belt from him tonight? What were they expecting to happen in the weeks leading up to Summer Slam. As it stood, the belt would not be on Raw. Again. The thought left a sour taste in his stomach. Brock held the belt for nearly a year broken up by only a couple months when Roman had it before being forced to relinquish. There were a lot of questions rumbling during his title defense about the fact that the belt was hardly ever defended because the man holding it only showed up for big events.

When he was finally given the nod to take the belt he thought for sure Creative would move away from a part time champion. Apparently that wouldn’t be the case. Once again the belt was around the waist of a no-show guy. He could already guarantee Brock wouldn’t be on Monday Night Raw. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be.

He dropped his hands to his knees as he continue to breathe heavily. There was a certain kind of high he was able to attain before his matches that allowed him to block out the pain that was inflicted on his body during any given match. This time though, the high was wearing off. Paired with the fact that he had lost the belt, something he still had yet to wrap his mind around. Normally he had a little more time to settle himself with a title loss.

Why did they wait until the last minute to tell him of the change? Why not tell him at the beginning of the night? There was plenty of time to let him know of the decision. He had the last match. There had only been a small promo with him and Becky they shot. It couldn’t be they were afraid of how he’d react. While he wasn’t a pushover, he definitely fought for himself and storylines and directions that propelled him further to the top. He also toed the corporate line and trusted the creative process and pictures he couldn’t yet see forming. Mostly.

He wasn’t sure why he was having such a time right now. Was he just keeping it real? Keeping it in the story? Was his bell rung from the rough match with Baron? Was it because Becky was involved and ringside?

The grimace in pain from Becky when she rubbed her forehead spurred him into motion. He reached for the rope again. Their movements slightly in sync as Becky moved with him.

“I’m sorry…”

The words slipped out. He wasn’t even sure why he was apologizing. Maybe for the fact that he had no time to argue to absurdity of Brock winning. Maybe for her receiving ‘End of Days’ that may have put the bump on her head.

“I let everyone down. I let everyone down.” He spoke as he climbed to his feet. Becky climbed to hers. The ring ropes still separated them.

“No you didn’t. You didn’t let me down…you saved my title...”

The Irish lilt gave him a slight blanket of comfort. He did save her title. Unleashing a fury like no other on Baron after he hit Becky with his finishing move secured her title. Secured his too.

Until it didn’t.

He stared out into the crowd. The night was over, but no one left their seats. Still in shock at the ending or because he was still in the ring, he wasn’t sure. The fans starting clapping as Becky moved closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. She faced the crowd, leaving her comforting hand in place and pressed her other hand to her forehead.

The bump needed to be checked out by the medical team but he knew she would never leave him out in the ring by himself. He needed to get out of the ring; get out of the spotlight so he could wallow… was he wallowing? Maybe. Becky kept shooting him worried looks. This moment was so much different than the one she expected to be happening. They were supposed to be celebrating in the middle of the ring after their win. They would trade hugs, raise their title belts up high. Hell, maybe he would have kissed her in the middle of the ring.

How many times would he be able to do that? Their storyline was ending. That they knew before heading into the match. Of course heading into the match he figured he’d still be champion. So who knew? He was sure Creative was already coming up with something for him the following night in response to whatever this was.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke to the crowd. The microphone was sure to pick it up for the cameraman still recording them. He wasn’t sure if anyone in the crowd heard. Not even the front row. It would be something they’d watch later on at home or at the hotel on YouTube.

Becky’s hand dropped from his shoulder and it was the grimace that caused him to move. There were no words spoken. It was as if they were one. She just knew it was time to go. They turned away from each other and limped their way across the ring toward the side with the ramp. His muscles protesting the movements. He climbed through the ropes as Becky used the steps to make it down to the floor. He sat on the side of the ring first before hopping to the floor. They met at the end of the ramp and walked up slowly together.

His mind was still in a daze. She was still rubbing her forehead. The crowd cheered them up the ramp, but they paid them no attention; gave them no acknowledgement. It was the only music in the arena. His music didn’t play. Neither did hers. At the top, he came to a stop allowing her to enter through the curtain first before he followed closely behind. The curtain fell behind him, hiding them from view.

Becky turned to face him, her mouth opening to speak but he cut her off warding off questions he was sure to answer at some point that night. The ones he could any way.

“Let’s get that checked out,” Colby nodded toward her head. He reached out and lightly felt around the bump.

Becky winced at Colby’s ministrations, but held steady. “I’m fine. The chair caught me.”

“Are you sure?” Colby let his eyes wander over her body checking the skin exposed by her ring gear. Aside from her forehead, it appeared she came through the match unscathed. When he met her eyes again, he saw the same loaded look she had sent him crouched on the edge of the ring.

“Well I wouldn’t mind a hot shower,” Becky quipped softly.

Colby nodded. This time he took her hand as they left the gorilla and headed deeper into the backstage area toward the locker rooms. He heard his name being called, but he waved them off. At this point, whatever they had to say, he didn’t care.

Tomorrow was a new day.

He’d care then.

#wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfics #seth rollins #becky lynch #brock lesnar #rollynch #Seth Rollins x Becky lynch

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opera-ghosts · 6 months ago

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Today I will remember the extraordinary soprano Adelina Patti (1843-1919). Here we see this antique Postcard from 1898.

Spanish-born soprano who was one of the greatest of her century.

The Spanish-born soprano Adelina Patti was the most renowned singer in Europe and the United States for over 30 years. She was born in 1843, the youngest of three children, into a family of opera singers and musicians. Her parents were opera performers well known in Europe by the time of Patti's birth in Madrid, where they were on tour. Her Italian father was Salvatore Patti; her Spanish mother was Caterina Chiesa Barili-Patti , known before her marriage as Signora Barili. Caterina also had four children from an earlier marriage, and all seven of her children would enjoy successful careers as singers.

When Adelina Patti was four the family moved to New York, where her father became an opera house manager. Her half-brother Ettore Barili gave Patti voice lessons starting at age five; by the age of seven Adelina was recognized as a child prodigy and the next year she gave her debut concert at New York City's Tripler Hall. Audiences and critics at subsequent concerts were stunned by the maturity, range, and purity of her voice. Her success in New York led to a three-year tour of American cities, unprecedented for such a young child, from 1851 to 1854. A second concert tour followed in 1857. Patti's sister Amelia Patti was married to the renowned pianist Maurice Strakosch; he took care of Adelina while on tour and served as her manager, instructor, and accompanist. She received only a minimal education, although her family background and musical training made her fluent in Spanish, French, Italian, and English. Her parents and Strakosch continued training Patti in the demands of operatic singing until they felt she was prepared to sing opera professionally. They arranged for her critically praised debut in the title role of Lucia di Lammermoor at the New York Academy of Music in 1859; she was 16, and would perform in opera continually for the next half-century, enjoying a career that was decades longer than that of most opera singers. Soon after her debut Patti faced serious family crises, as her father's struggling opera house failed and her mother left the family in 1860 to return to Rome. Patti then began to provide much of the family's income through her performances.

She toured the eastern United States and the West Indies from 1859 to 1861. In 1861, she went abroad, under the care of her father and Strakosch, to perform in La sonnambula at the Covent Garden opera house in London. She was enthusiastically received in London, where she was to perform every autumn for 25 years.

Patti remained on tour in Europe virtually continuously for 20 years, not returning to New York until 1881. She played to crowded houses in Berlin, Brussels, Amsterdam, Vienna, Paris, and across Italy. The operatic roles she chose ranged from light comedy, which she preferred, to tragedy, but whatever role she appeared in, critics were universal in their praise of her acting ability and the emotive power of her voice.

While in Paris in 1866, through her friendship with Empress Eugénie , Patti met the aristocrat Louis de Cahuzac, marquis de Caux, who served as a personal servant to the French emperor Napoleon III. They wished to marry but the marquis was not allowed to retain his privileged position at the French court if he married a working woman. Since Patti would not consider giving up her career, de Caux eventually resigned his post. This freed the couple to marry in 1868, when the new marchioness was 25 years old and her husband 42; however, the marriage lasted less than a decade, and they obtained a legal separation in 1877. As Patti was by then a celebrity throughout Europe and the United States, her marital problems brought scandal to the opera world and were the subject of often sensationalistic newspaper articles in many of the countries she had performed in. In the divorce suit, de Caux charged Patti with an adulterous affair with her co-star, Italian tenor Ernesto Nicolini. She admitted to the affair, but maintained in her defense that de Caux was jealous, controlling, and violent, and that he allowed her no access to her substantial income. The divorce would be finalized in 1885, when de Caux was awarded a settlement of $300,000 from Patti. Freed at last from her unhappy marriage, Patti married Nicolini a few months later.

Despite her personal problems during the separation and divorce, Patti continued to travel widely. She did a concert tour on her return to New York in 1881, followed by two operatic tours of the United States. Throughout the 1880s and 1890s, she was the most highly paid and most visible singer in Europe and the United States, receiving press coverage for her appearances as well as for her shocking personal life, legendary jewel collection, enormous wealth, and for her demanding, often capricious personality. She maintained homes across Europe, where she was friends with and frequently host to Europe's royalty and aristocracy. Her fame even led to mentions in contemporary literature and drama, such as Tolstoy's Anna Karenina and Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Patti gave a farewell performance at the New York Metropolitan Opera House in 1887. She and Nicolini then left for another extended tour abroad, performing in Spain and Argentina. In 1895, at age 52, Patti gave six farewell appearances at Covent Garden. She and Nicolini then went into semi-retirement on an estate in Wales called Craig-y-Nos Castle which Patti had purchased some years before, and where she lived with Nicolini prior to their marriage. Patti adopted Wales as the native land she had never truly had, and was respected by the Welsh for her generosity to charitable causes and to her poor neighbors.

Ernesto Nicolini died in 1898. Patti, age 56, remarried a year later. Her third husband, a Swedish aristocrat named Baron Rolf Cederström, was a former military officer who, at the time Patti met him in 1897, was director of the Health Gymnastic Institute in London. At the time of their marriage, Cederström was only 28; their age difference and his occupation made the renowned opera star once again the subject of a flood of news articles and gossip columns.

The urgings of Patti's American fans called her back to the stage in 1903, when she began her last operatic tour at New York's Carnegie Hall. Although Patti was by then considerably older than most opera singers were at retirement, audiences were still moved by her powerful performances. In 1906, at age 63, she made her formal farewell appearance at Albert Hall in London. She also made numerous recordings which have preserved her work and demonstrate the remarkable purity and range which captivated her admirers and which had once led the composer Giuseppe Verdi to call Patti the greatest voice he had ever heard.

Adelina Patti was called out of retirement to perform occasionally at charity events in Wales and England through 1914, when she left the stage for good at age 71. She spent the remaining five years of her life at Craig-y-Nos Castle, where she died in 1919, at age 76. At her wish, her husband buried her in the celebrity cemetery Père Lachaise in Paris. He eventually remarried, selling Craig-y-Nos Castle to the Welsh National Memorial Association which converted it into the Adelina Patti Hospital. The hospital remained in operation until 1986, when the castle and its grounds were turned into a national park and cultural center.

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americasass81 · 1 year ago

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A Not So Chance Encounter

{Warnings:- 18+for the following - Brief Mentions of Pregnancy, Mental and Emotional Neglect, Oral, Use of Pet Names, Fingering, Teasing, Manipulation, Minor Stalking, Kidnapping and Possible Stockholm Syndrome, Minor Partner Smut at the end.}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.

Pairing:- Bucky Barnes x reader

Author’s Note 1:- As only the second fic I ever wrote and posted, I have since learned so much about writing and have finally found the time to edit this and hopefully make it more inclusive.

Author’s Note 2:- The end result of this fic is a knight in shining armor Bucky. Hope everyone who reads this enjoys.

Author’s Note 3:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics for creating and giving me permission to use the included Bucky divider.

Run-Through:- Lurking in the shadows, a silent observer as life went on around you, you took your pleasure in quiet moments before slinking back to the safety of the reclusive world you were familiar with. Delighting in activities that allowed you to heal from your once turbulent life, little did you know that waiting for your meal in the farthest corner of a familiar restaurant would change your new life in ways you never expected.

Total Word Count:- 10,651

Stretching that Monday morning with the summer sun streaming through your bedroom window, you rose quickly and after a refreshing shower, began to prepare for the day ahead. Having gone through hell the past few months, well years really, today had been the one thing that kept you hanging on … your little oasis in the desert. Having spent most of your young life dealing with family issues and your own mental fragility, this day’s outing at the start of life in your new home was a balm to the turmoil wreaking havoc on your once miserable life.

Having spent a lifetime being mocked, ridiculed and treated like garbage by those who were supposed to love you unconditionally, you often wondered how you had managed to remain the functioning adult you saw every time you looked in the mirror. As it was, the whole of you seemed to be much stronger than the pieces they had tried to destroy with their bitterness and neglect and having finally managed to get away from your toxic family and the pain they had caused you, your one desire now was to rebuild your life and become the fun-loving, carefree individual you knew was hidden deep down beneath the years of silent suffering.

Hoping one day to be strong enough and happy enough to allow someone special to hold your heart and trust them with your hopes and dreams for the future, right now your plan was basically simple. Deciding on a month’s break where the only requirement was that you do whatever made you happy, your weekend had consisted of nothing more taxing than unboxing the bare essentials to get your home and body working in harmony. After that, you figured a little fun was in order before you faced the monumental task of unboxing your life and setting up a routine that kept you relaxed, happy and healthy.

Putting on some music while getting dressed, you checked your emails before heading downstairs to collect the morning post. Sorting through each piece and disposing of the rubbish accordingly, you then went about preparing your usual breakfast. Sitting down and enjoying the peace afforded by finally having a place to call your own, you took out your phone and booked your ticket for the movie you were dying to see as you ate your cereal. Once done, you rang your doctor to confirm your appointment before washing up your bowl and heading out.

Living so close to all the amenities necessary to live a comfortable life, the greatest treasure you always felt was the one that greeted you this day as you stepped outside. With a beautiful sun shining down on you, accompanied by a light breeze, you were able to set off walking at a leisurely pace to your first engagement of the day.

Your appointment with the doctor, though simply routine, was one you had been putting off until you were no longer allowed to. Not having a particular love of the medical profession, yet also not hating them, you simply had other things you’d rather be doing with your time while also not looking for problems that didn’t exist. After a brisk fifteen minute walk, you arrived at your destination, went through the now usual yearly routine and once getting a clean bill of health said your goodbyes and took your leave.

Walking out the door while looking at your watch, you realized that even with the distance between here and the movie theater you still had an hour and a half to kill which meant you had plenty of time for some quiet reflection at your favorite spot. Walking through its arched entrance ten minutes later, you found the place relatively empty while marveling as always at the beautiful wooden benches and medieval light fixtures scattered throughout this peaceful space.

Stopping by the plant area just to the left of the main entrance to purchase a plant for those who had no one to remember them, you then headed off towards the mini waterfall at the very back and kneeling down to add your flower to the many glorious blossoms already growing there, offered up a thanks to anyone listening for finally affording you the peace you had long been missing in young life. Staying in quiet reflection until it was once again time to move on, you exited this area through the back wall arch before heading through the local park which would bring you out directly in front of your main destination.

Though not your usual action flick, you felt like something light and the movie in question definitely qualified. Based around four senior women who held a book club every week for thirty years, hi-jinx and comedy is what was being offered and that is exactly what the stellar cast and refreshing script provided. Enjoying yourself more than you had in a long time, you left the theater almost two hours later feeling in high spirits and ready for a bite to eat.

Walking the short distance to a nearby hotel whose restaurant served some of your favorite meals at a reasonable price, you found your usual spot in a discreet corner and waited patiently for a staff member to arrive to take your order. Taking out your phone to do some reading to pass the time, you didn’t register how much time was slipping by without anyone coming to deal with you or that someone important had just entered the restaurant.

So engrossed were you in your own world that you failed to notice the commotion that was being stirred up all around you by the new arrival. This all changed quickly however, when a shadow fell across your table and you looked up to see a waiter standing before you empty handed. Saving your place in the book before setting your phone aside, nothing in the world could prepare you for the complete lack of professionalism that followed when the man before you opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry Ma'am, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We have a very important guest staying in the hotel who has just stopped by for a quiet meal and requires a table.” he said, before looking over in the direction of the newcomer who had just stopped talking to some child at a nearby table. Unable to tell much about who this V.I.P. was, you quickly looked back towards the waiter when he resumed speaking again.

“Though management is aware that you are a regular here, you are alone and since we are fully booked we are prepared to offer you a full complimentary meal here whenever it suits you, if you would just kindly and discreetly vacate this table today.” Then as if to drive home his request, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a gift token which he extended towards you. This gesture proved useless however when the stranger in question finally arrived, caught hold of the waiter’s arm and lowered it to his side before turning his icy gaze on you.

“Miss,” he said, looking you over while reaching out his hand to you. “My name is Bucky Barnes. If you’re not waiting for someone, would it be too bold of me to ask if I might join you?” he inquired as all eyes in the restaurant fell on your location. Knowing who you were dealing with, and thus all too aware of his reputation, you looked between the two men standing before you, before shyly nodding your acceptance.

Letting go of your hand and taking the seat opposite you, Bucky turned his disapproving glare on the waiter and took the gift token from him before speaking in a low tone that still showed it’s authority. “Perhaps since this young lady has yet to be served, you might be so kind as to order us two lamb dinners with your finest bottle of red wine.” Glancing over at you while the waiter wrote down the order, Bucky smiled slightly at your innocent and perplexed expression before continuing. "Then for dessert, you can bring us the cheesecake and put it on my bill.“

As the waiter walked away you finally found your voice, even if there was a slight tremor to it. "Thank you Mister Barnes, but you don’t have to pay for my meal.” This whole situation seemed unreal to you and despite trying to be upbeat, a lifetime of mental mistreatment, had left you with a serious case of trust issues.

“Nonsense,” he said, smiling across the table at you before continuing, “it’s the least I can do since this lot seem to be lacking basic manners, and please call me Bucky.”

“Well again, thank you Bucky.” you replied while trying to ignore the smile that graced his features at his name rolling off your lips, as well as the obvious stares from the people all around you. This time round it didn’t take long for your food and wine to arrive and though you tried to decline the drink, Bucky wasn’t having any of it. Slowly enjoying both the wonderful food and good company, you failed to notice the time slipping by or the fact that slowly but surely the restaurant had started to empty out.

You were enjoying yourself so much in fact, that by the time the waiter delivered the dessert, you had divulged your whole life story to Bucky while learning that he was relaxing here for two weeks after a mission before returning back to the Avengers Compound. You also had to admit, if only to yourself, that not being a frequent drinker, the wine, now almost two bottles, had kind of gone to your head. But perhaps, looking back, that was part of Bucky’s plan. Having finished up your food, you prepared to stand up so as to finally take your leave, only for Bucky to take your hand and apply some light pressure before speaking. "Any chance you’d consider hanging out and keeping me company? I don’t know anyone here and it seemed like we were having a nice time.“

Looking over at him as he laced his fingers with yours, you couldn’t understand the warm feeling traveling throughout your body and as your eyes locked with his you were shocked to find yourself giving in to his request. "Okay, I guess I can spare an extra hour or two. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, if you really are willing, maybe we could head out and walk off the meal.” he suggested while smiling over at you. Agreeing easily as he helped you with your coat, you headed towards the doors unaware of the possessive look that crossed Bucky’s face as he finished up his drink before catching up to you.

Slipping into place beside you and matching his stride to yours, you only made it from the hotel to the town plaza before Bucky had slipped your hand into his. Looking between your laced fingers and his gorgeous face, the noticeably raised eyebrow indicated that while he was expecting you to challenge him, he had no intention of letting go. This perception was further rammed home, when ten minutes later, as you entered the park, Bucky increased his hold as you tried to pull your hand away.

Stopping by a drink vendor just inside the park’s main gate, you became a bit more irritated when Bucky chose and paid for both your drinks before handing one to you. Then taking your hand again, he walked you further into the park until you reached the fountain in the center. Sitting you down on the bench opposite, you sipped your drink in silence until Bucky finally spoke. "You’ve become awfully quiet Y/N, is everything alright?“

Looking over at him while suspecting his intentions, you chose your words carefully before answering. "Sorry, I’m just not used to having someone paying for my food and drinks. Or … ”

“Holding your hand?” he interrupted questioningly. "You’ve never been with a guy, have you?“ he quickly added before you had a chance to answer. Looking straight ahead towards the fountain and focusing on the sound emanating from it, you tried to let the tranquility calm your nerves as Bucky continued. "It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. You also have nothing to be nervous about. I simply wanted to treat you.”

“But why and what about the hand holding?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from the fountain to finally look at him.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” he inquired, taking a sip from his own drink.

“I guess not. It’s just weird considering we only met about three hours ago.” you stated while hoping not to offend him, though you really couldn’t say why.

“I totally understand.” he said, reaching out to remove a small bug from your shoulder. "But I guess if I’m being honest, it’s the result of when I was brought up and all I’ve seen of this world. It seems with all the things this new time has given us, basic human decency is the price we’ve paid.“ Totally agreeing and foolishly relaxing at his words, in time you would look back on this fateful day and curse yourself for not listening to the voice in your head that screamed at you in this moment to run. As it was, you simply tried to relax and returned to your drink.

Enjoying some further walking, while answering any questions Bucky had about the area, you suddenly realized how late it had become when upon exiting the park, you were greeted with night time revelers and the glow of the street lights. Not sure how to extricate yourself from a famous Avenger and former Hydra assassin, this decision was taken out of your hands, when the Winter Soldier’s voice brought you back to the present time. "Would you allow me to walk you home or perhaps you could stay with me. Only for safety reasons, of course.” he quickly added, having seen the deer-in-headlights look that clouded your features.

No longer thrilled with spending time with James Buchanan Barnes, but damn sure you didn’t want him knowing where you lived, you grudgingly agreed to spending the night, while making plans to leave the next morning. Surprisingly chipper at your acquiescence, Bucky again took hold of your hand as both of you headed back towards his hotel. Once safely there in the confines of his rather spacious suite, Bucky seated you at the table while presenting the sandwiches and drinks that he had ordered upon entering the lobby.

Realizing how hungry you were, you graciously tucked into them while you tried not to think about the sleeping arrangements. Once the food was eaten and cleared away however, this task proved impossible when Bucky took your hand and led you towards the bedroom. Staring at the large opulent bed before you, all the ways things could go horribly wrong flashed before your eyes. So preoccupied was Bucky with closing, and though you failed to notice, locking the doors that you were the first to bring up the giant elephant in the room.

“Okay so I’m just gonna use the facilities and then settle down on the couch for the night. Hope you sleep well.” you added, heading for the bathroom. You were stopped in your tracks however when Bucky turned to face you and uttered the one word that sent a shiver down your spine.

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, looking over at him as he walked towards the side of the bed.

“You’re sleeping in the bed. My Ma didn’t raise me to allow a lady to sleep on a couch. No matter how comfortable it looks.”

Smiling slightly at the reference to his mother and the obvious affection it seemed he still held for her, your mind quickly brought you back to the present problem. "That’s sweet, really. But let’s be honest, I’ll fit better on the couch than you and Avengers deserve to sleep in proper beds.“

Raising an eyebrow at your inference that his job made him somehow better than you, Bucky easily turned your argument on its head while throwing another curve ball your way. "Actually, unless at HQ, Avengers are used to bunking down wherever the opportunity presents itself. Besides there is the other option where we each take a side like two reasonable adults. What do you say?”

Looking at the huge bed once more and realizing that he probably wasn’t going to give up this particular idea, you still tried to think of a way out. "I guess we could. If you don’t mind me sleeping with my clothes on?“ you asked.

"Nonsense. Use your bra and panties. I promise to behave myself.” he smirked, hoping to put you at ease.

It had the opposite effect however and you couldn’t hide the embarrassment that crept through you at your next statement. “That’s a problem since I’m not wearing any.”

“Not wearing any what?” he inquired, though you suspected he knew exactly what you were referring to and simply wanted you to hear the words pass you lips.

“Bra and panties.” you replied tersely, looking everywhere but at him as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Oh not to worry doll, how about I supply you with a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in?” Shocked by both his suggestion and the use of a pet name, you thought through your options and deciding it was the most favorable choice, grudgingly agreed.

“Great.” he said, heading for his suitcase and returning to you with a royal blue top and black boxers. "Here you go,“ he added, handing you the garments before continuing, "now do you like to sleep on the left or the right?”

“I always sleep alone,” you foolishly admitted, “so it doesn’t really matter too much.”

Smiling broadly as both your hands held his clothes, he quickly and easily settled the situation. "Fine then, I’ll take the right side by the window, since I’m pretty much set up there anyway. That leaves you on the left side by the bathroom.“

"Cool.” you said, fully taking the clothes now and heading for said bathroom. "Do you mind if I go first?“ you asked, indicating what you were up to.

"Oh of course not. Ladies first.” he insisted, as you walked away and closed the door. Locking it quickly and quietly, you did what you needed to do while wondering how you had gotten yourself into whatever this situation was as well as contemplating how you were going to get out of it. Little did you know how hard this was going to be however with a world class assassin in the next room thrilled that something he always wanted was finally within his grasp.

Exiting the bathroom finally, you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of an almost naked James Buchanan Barnes standing before you in nothing but the same black boxers as you now wore. Gazing at the sculpted back in front of you, you were still standing staring at him when he turned around and acknowledged your presence. "Oh hey doll, you done in there?“ he asked while ignoring the fact that you had been very clearly checking him out.

"Wh-what?” you stammered, flustered that you had been caught all but ogling him.

Coming to stand in front of you, Bucky reached out and lifting your chin to look into your eyes, repeated his earlier question. "I asked if you were finished in the bathroom.“

"Sorry, of course. It’s all yours.” you stated as he released you and headed off to use the facilities. Trying to clear your head, you quickly headed towards the bed and burying yourself under the comforter, hoped to be asleep before Bucky came back.

Returning from the bathroom to find you snuggled in bed with your eyes closed, Bucky smiled to himself as he headed towards his side of the bed. Pulling back the covers and gazing down at your body wrapped in his clothes, he couldn’t hide the tightening in his boxers or the urge to turn you on your back and pound into you until you screamed his name for everyone in the hotel to hear. He fought the urge however, knowing that the first time he had you, it would be with your consent.

Laying down next to you, back to back, he smirked when your heartbeat betrayed you and told him sleep was so far evading you. Making sure to keep as respectful a distance between you that the bed would allow, Bucky settled himself in and waited patiently until your soft breathing and slower heartbeat indicated sleep had finally come calling. Then exiting the bed, he made a start on his plan to claim you.

Waking the next morning from one of the most restful sleeps you could ever remember having, all sense of peace went out the window once your body acknowledged the new position it found itself in. Resting comfortably against a warm, strong body, you somehow woke up on the opposite side of the bed with your head on Bucky’s flesh arm while his metal hand was resting on your pussy, having been shoved down your, or rather his, boxers. Wanting so badly to be out of this situation, but not wanting to wake the man who now held you in his grasp, you willed yourself to calm down. Fate however had other ideas.

Just as you tried to think of a possible way out, Bucky brought his lips to your ear and kissing just below it tenderly, whispered words of comfort to you. "Good morning Y/N, glad to see you slept well. How about you remain calm please, I promise you’re perfectly safe.“ he tried to reassure you though his words had little effect as your heart rate increased. Bringing his flesh hand around your front to rest on your breast, your squirming attempts to get away from him, only resulted in his holding you tighter until you felt something poking your ass, which caused you to stop completely.

"Oh come on doll, don’t stop now, things were just getting good.” he moaned as he squeezed down on your breast and pussy. Moaning yourself as he lazily pinched your nipple through his top, while running his metal fingers through your folds, you were both shocked and confused when he chuckled softly. "Guess who’s wet, Y/N? Tell me what you’d like me to do. How can I satisfy my girl, hmmm?“

"I’m not your girl, now please let me go so I may use the toilet.” you said forcefully while trying to fight the fear crawling around your insides. Kissing your neck some more as his fingers continued their dance, he grudgingly released you, before picking up the phone to order breakfast.

Heading to the bathroom, you hurriedly did what you needed to while you tried to figure out what someone like you had done to capture the attention of a world famous Avenger. Finally unable to quiet the thoughts running riot in your head, you headed back out to see what awaited you.

Stepping foot back in the bedroom, you were surprised to find Bucky simply sitting on the bed, looking at nothing in particular. Approaching him cautiously, you sat down next to him carefully while worrying about what to do when he failed to acknowledge your presence. Slowly reaching out your hand and placing it on his, he gave a slight jerk when he felt your touch and you called his name. Though he didn’t pull away, you could see the light in his eyes was a little dimmed and remembering who exactly sat next to you, your heart broke a little as you recognized another lost and frightened soul. "Bucky,“ you repeated in the same gentle tone, "is everything okay?”

“What?” he questioned, as if only now fully realizing you were there. “Oh yeah, sorry. Just got stuck in my own head a bit. Are you doing alright, doll? Do you need anything?”

Smiling a bit that he could be so concerned about you while obviously dealing with his own issues, you reached your other hand up and carefully pushed some hair behind his ear to clear the view of his face. “I’m all good, thank you. Did you want to maybe use the bathroom before breakfast?” you gently inquired as you didn’t want him to think you were giving orders.

Cautiously looking down at the hand still resting on his metal one, his gaze then fell on you and he was a little taken aback to see nothing but concern. For as long as he could remember fear had been the predominant look he had seen on the faces of humanity, yet even with the way the morning started and your obvious distrust, your ability to see the good in people still shone through like a glorious sunrise. Coming back to himself, he smiled at you before taking both your hands in his and kissed them tenderly as he spoke. “Yeah, I won’t be too long. Breakfast will be here shortly. I hope cereal is okay?”

“Cereal is just fine. It’s actually what I usually eat anyway.” you replied, getting up to allow him to go about his morning routine. This proved a tad difficult however when his grip held firm though gentle and you looked at him a bit worried until you saw that he was still in control of himself.

“I’m sorry if how you woke up this morning scared you. I’m sure it was a lot to wake up to.” he sighed, as if half afraid to mention it.

“It’s okay really. If you’d like we can maybe talk about it later, as you said breakfast will be here shortly.” you reminded him while hoping your tone remained reassuring.

Releasing you as he nodded his head in agreement, he finally headed for the bathroom, while you sat down on the couch, laced up your boots and tried not to think about the rollercoaster the last twenty-four hours had been.

Returning quickly from the bathroom, dressed in blue jeans and a red henley, Bucky led you out to the living area just in time for breakfast to be delivered. Pulling out your chair like the perfect gentleman he was, Bucky opened the door for the waiter before joining you at the table. As the trolley with your food was wheeled it, you were further surprised to see a bouquet of roses and lilies accompanying the breakfast. Placing all the necessary food items on the table, the waiter then handed the flowers to you before leaving the room.

Though your mind swirled with all the possible implications and the old you would have played the part of a good little girl, this new, home-owning you was determined to voice the question currently swirling in your brain. "Mr. Barnes, am I missing something here?“ you asked, raising the flowers slightly in order to point out what you were referencing.

"Y/N please, I have asked you to call me Bucky,” he reminded you and reached for the cereal while continuing to speak, “and what exactly is the issue?”

“The issue is that after not even twenty-four hours together, you’re now buying me flowers. Not to mention the incident.” you called it, not wanting to add the word groping. "This gives me the impression that you think we’re on a date or something.“

Stalling what he was doing, while not quite looking at you, your eyes widened and the bouquet fell from your hand as your suspicions seemed to bloom into existence in the silence that followed.

"Oh god, I’m right. Aren’t I?” you asked, trying to keep the terror out of your voice. Rising from the table when he still refused to answer and heading for the door, you just now realized he was sitting between your escape option when his metal arm shot out, wrapped around your waist and pulled you easily onto his waiting lap. Screaming and thrashing as loud and as hard as you could, you had to admit defeat, when his metal arm held you tighter while his other hand clamped itself firmly over your mouth and nose.

“Y/N,” he said, speaking so softly by your ear that you could almost picture yourself in the arms of his alter ego, “I need you to calm down so we can have a nice, quiet breakfast. Then we can clear up this whole misunderstanding. Nod if you accept.”

Fighting a bit harder, you finally had to agree when he tightened his grip once more and you felt like you were going to pass out. Happy with your reluctant acceptance, he rose from his chair and after depositing you back by your own empty bowl, added cereal to it before heading to the door and to your complete horror, locked it. Slipping the key card back into his jeans, he then sat back down at the table and continued to prepare his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Still trying to wrap your head around what had just transpired, you figured dealing with him might be a damn sight easier with some food in your stomach, and so as he began eating, you gave in and tucked into your own breakfast. Eating in silence, while glancing at Bucky every now and then, you hoped that a chance meeting and a simple act of kindness hadn’t meant you traded one nightmare for another.

Once breakfast was finally over, Bucky cleared up the table and pushed the trolley out into the hall before placing the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door. Coming back in and once again locking it, he looked at your scared form waiting at the table and sighed heavily as he thought through how best to handle the situation.

Going to the fridge to get you some water, he brought it over to the table and kneeling down before you, requested that you drink some. Doing as he asked, you downed the whole bottle as he gently reached out his hand to stroke your cheek. Feeling somewhat less anxious, you couldn’t understand how his touch calmed your fears and you silently cursed yourself as he finally spoke. "Let’s go into the other room and talk, shall we? If memory serves, there's a couch there you seemed to think was comfortable enough to sleep on.“

Rising from the floor and taking your hand as you silently nodded, Bucky led you back to the bedroom and sat both of you on said couch. Sighing again as you scooted away from him to the far end, he gave you a few minutes to get comfortable before trying to alleviate your concerns. "Y/N, tell me what’s bothering you and we’ll figure out how to fix it.” he said, finding it difficult not to reach out and pull you onto his lap.

Seething that he even pretended not to know what was bothering you, you tried to control your temper so as not to provoke his darker side. “What’s bothering me is you acting like we’re a couple. Paying for everything, the flowers, the groping and don’t even think I didn’t see you locking the door just now. Give me a straight answer, will you allow me to leave here?” you asked, looking directly at him.

“You want a straight answer, fine. No.” he replied, and his answer actually took you by surprise. Never in your wildest dreams did you expect him to so blatantly shoot you down and for a few seconds you were actually lost for words. "Now answer a simple question for me, why did you agree to keep me company?“ he asked, and you realized he had you there.

"Well I … ” you stammered, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t land you in even deeper shit.

“I’m waiting, doll.” he smirked, seeing quite plainly how flustered you had become. "Is it possible that it’s your feelings for me and not my actions that scares you? Has life treated you so poorly, that the slightest bit of affection from someone is something you’re now conditioned to pull away from?“ Moving so close to you that he placed his hand behind you on the back of the couch while you felt his warm breath on your skin, you knew his ability to focus on your heartbeat would give away your secret.

Finally swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked at Bucky and figured the truth was the only option left. "I agreed because like you said we were enjoying ourselves and I didn’t mind keeping you company for a brief time. However, I honestly don’t know why you want to keep me around.”

Knowing that he had been right and that you spoke the truth, Bucky’s heart broke that someone as precious as you, thought so little of yourself. Somewhat afraid to startle you, he slowly brought his hand down to your shoulder before speaking again. "I want you with me because you possess a kindness sorely lacking in most people. After all you actually treat me like a human being.“

Never having been used to hearing anything good said about you, you stared around the room, unwilling to look at him. Bucky however was having none of it and throwing caution to the wind, pulled you securely against his side. "Doll, you don’t get a lot of compliments, do you?” he asked, reaching for your chin and forcing you to look at him. Gazing into his soulful blue eyes, you answered “no” so low that only the silence of the room and his super soldier hearing enabled him to hear you. At last understanding why you were so hesitant of him and your feelings, he now realized he needed to take things slow with you. Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, he ignored your shocked expression before moving on. "Okay, so accepting that you promised to keep me company, what would you like to do today?“

Feeling yourself relax somewhat, you thought about what your answer would reveal, but figured being who he was and the friends he had, he could probably always find you anyways. "I think I’d like to swing by my house and grab a change of clothes. Would you by any chance be any good at climbing rock walls?” you asked and was greeted with a glorious smile that helped pound harder on the walls you so carefully erected around your heart.

“Ah beautiful girl, I can climb a rock wall better and faster than anyone.” he smirked and as he helped you up from the couch, you couldn’t help laughing at how confident he sounded or the child-like enthusiasm plastered across his features.

“Okay then mister, let’s see what you’ve got.” you said as you released your hand from his and headed towards the doors.

Feeling a bit more relaxed as Bucky unlocked the door, both of you headed downstairs and set off walking towards your house. Talking somewhat along the way about various topics, things started to get noticeably quieter the closer you got to home. Sinking back into your own head, you thought of all the possible questions he might have, as well as the implications of willingly opening your home to the Winter Soldier.

Recognizing the signs that you were heading down a rabbit hole of doubt, Bucky reached out and lacing his fingers with yours, squeezed your hand gently while giving you a reassuring smile. Smiling back at him, you finally reached the two story building you called home and as you made your way through the modest front yard, you wondered what this individual who had seen so much of the world would make of your piece of it.

Unlocking the front porch and ushering Bucky inside, you had no idea what exactly he was thinking when the first question he asked was regarding the composition of the structure. Explaining that the ground floor consisted of a nicely sized, three bedroom house while the first floor boasted five spacious bedrooms with en suites, you didn’t see the gears turning in his head as you showed him to the lounge on your way to the master bedroom.

Working quickly to change your clothes, while also remembering to slip on some underwear this time, you actually forgot you had a highly skilled assassin for company and so was unaware that your naked form moving around your room was being secretly observed.

Running his hand lazily over his crotch as he watched from the hall, the blue lingerie set adorning your body teased him just so, and it took every ounce of his strength not to throw open the door and take you right then and there. As it was, he instead tried to focus on what it would be like to see this house filled with laughter and littered with toys and these thoughts, coupled with you pulling on jeans and a plain white t-shirt, slowly brought his raging horniness under control.

Finally dressed, you tossed a few days provisions into a bag before heading into the rest of the house to retrieve the super soldier. Finding him out in the small back yard, you wondered what he was thinking as he turned to face you. "This is a really nice place you’ve got here. I don’t imagine you’ve had it long though?“ he questioned and you wondered how someone could know so little and yet so much about a person they had just met.

"What makes you say that?” you inquired while hoping to get some insight into him.

“Well I kinda peeked about upstairs. That’s a lot of boxes for someone living here.” he smirked and you found yourself laughing along with him.

“Wow great detective skills there. I guess you really don’t miss anything when it’s right in front of your nose. I only recently moved in and have kinda just been enjoying my freedom, I guess.”

“Hey now, don’t get cheeky. I’d hate to have to punish you before we have some fun.” he said, coming to stand in front of you and playfully swatting your ass.

Feeling a mild tingling sensation shoot through your core, your mind wondered how he could have such an effect on your emotions. Reigning in these thoughts and feelings, you placed your bag over your shoulder and headed back into the house. Retrieving your jacket, while making sure Bucky was following you, both of you exited the door and locking up asked him if he wanted to walk to the adventure center or if you should take your car.

Reaching out to take your bag, like you he threw it over his left shoulder before extending out his right hand to you. "How about we walk?“ he suggested, allowing you to lead the way when you placed your hand on his. "After all, the weather is glorious and it’s definitely one way to limber up.” he added, winking at you suggestively.

Ignoring the innuendo and the tingling still lingering between your thighs, half an hour later your spirits were high as you led Bucky through the lobby of the adventure center to the rock wall which you luckily enough had a standing booking for every Tuesday.

Stepping into the harness and pulling it tightly, you were both touched and annoyed when Bucky came to stand beside you and checked that everything was in order. "Hey Barnes, just what do you think you’re doing?“ you asked as he then attached the rope.

"Just making sure everything is secure. This is precious cargo and we don’t want anything happening to you.” he replied as his hands lingered on your shoulders.

“Well as sweet as that gesture is, I have been doing this for a few years now,” you pointed out as you released yourself from his hold to make sure your shoes were still laced up securely, “and I’ve been quite safe. Thank you very much.”

“Sorry.” he said, as he played with your fingers before both of you turned towards the wall. Realizing you couldn’t stay mad at him for some bizarre reason, you gently told him it was okay before suggesting both of you get stuck in. Not sure how you were going to match up to an Avenger, you gave him a tentative smile, took a deep breath and began.

Taking your time and zoning out as if on your own, you matched Bucky hold for hold and was surprised to see he hadn’t skyrocketed to the top. Unsure whether he was taking it easy on you or if he was simply just enjoying himself, he reached the top about two feet before you and waiting until you joined him, stretched out his hand to take yours before asking if you were okay.

Smiling broadly at him, you assured him everything was fine before both of you gently kicked off from the wall and eased yourselves back down to the ground. Having once again gotten there first, your feet never touched the floor however as Bucky caught you easily in his powerful arms and even you had to admit it actually felt comforting. Releasing you a few seconds later, both of you agreed that since Bucky didn’t have a change of clothes with him, it would be easier and nicer to shower back at the hotel and so headed off there to clean up. Again walking hand in hand, you laughed and chatted about the other things you liked to do and the next thing you knew, your bag, along with your jacket, had joined his on the bedroom floor.

Getting both of you some water bottles while you sat on the couch and began removing your shoes, you stopped halfway through when Bucky stood next to you and offered you a bottle. Thanking him and drinking it down quickly as he joined you on the couch, you looked at him dubiously at the words that then left his mouth. “So sweet girl, tell me, where do you stand on environmental protection?”

“I beg your pardon. What does that have to do with anything?” you asked, wondering what he was getting at as he scooted closer to you.

“Well,” he grinned, toying with the hem of your t-shirt, “we both need a shower and I know for a fact the one in there will easily accommodate two.” he replied while raising an eyebrow towards the bathroom.

As his meaning finally settled in your brain, you tried rising to your feet to put as much distance between you two as possible, only to find your t-shirt held firmly in his strong grasp. "Bucky let me go,“ you said forcefully as your hands went to your back to try and release his hold. "I am not going to shower with you. Ever.”

“Not even if I make it worth your while.” he whispered by your ear as he ran his metal hand back and forth along your thigh. Unsure whether or not he knew the effect he had on you, your protests died down as his hand continued to stroke and squeeze your thigh while his lips latched onto your neck and began kissing and sucking as if his life depended on it.

Biting down particularly hard at the same time his metal hand ripped open your jeans and his cool fingers slipped inside to make contact with your clit, the moans that now left your lips were music to his ears. Releasing your t-shirt while his other hand and lips continued to work their magic, Bucky, with what you assumed was all the skill and strength of a trained assassin, moved both of you to the bed, while never breaking contact with your neck or pussy. Placing you upon it gently, his flesh hand slipped inside your t-shirt and easily unhooked your bra before looking into your face to see lust-filled eyes staring back at him.

Bending down tentatively to capture your lips with his, you couldn’t hide the moan that escaped when, between your legs a long, cool digit breached your folds and worked its way along your channel. Taking advantage of this opening, Bucky slipped his tongue into your waiting mouth and explored every inch before adding another finger to your now aching core. Working these fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, while his tongue now warred with yours, you were slammed back to reality when his lips once more returned to your ear and his next words broke the spell he had been casting. “Did you know when you dressed that blue is my absolute favorite color?”

Realizing with blinding clarity that he had earlier watched you dress back at your house, you somehow took him by surprise and shoved him off you before heading for the bathroom and locking the door. Sitting on the toilet as you tried to calm yourself down, the fire he lit between your legs threatened to engulf you and to make matters worse, your brain was quick to point out that even if you showered, all your clean clothes were in the same room as the horny super soldier assassin.

Cursing the feelings he was able to create within you, you reluctantly opened the door to find Bucky on the bed where you left him, stroking his crotch while sucking on the fingers that mere moments ago were working on sending you into orbit. Biting back a moan as he acknowledged your presence and his blue orbs locked with yours, all rational thought abandoned you at his next words. "Hey doll, let me be the first to tell you, you taste divine?“

Deciding that later you would blame what happened next and the resulting consequences on hormones, you sprinted across the room, crashed into his strong chest and brought your lips down on his as your fingers sought out his hair. Latching on as he suddenly got with the program, Bucky kissed you back just as passionately as his hands helped settle you better on his powerful body.

Feeling the hardness nestled against your mound as his hands pushed your hips against his, you grudgingly pulled back as your lungs screamed for air. Looking down on his startled form, you placed your hands against his chest and you tried to get your breathing under control as he smirked up at you. "Not that I’m complaining, but what has changed in the last few minutes.”

“My head reminded me that I’m supposed to be having fun.” you squealed out as Bucky’s hands continued to squeeze your ass.

“Such a pretty thoughtful head.” he then replied, before flipping you over onto your back and bringing his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna show you just how much fun we can have doll.” he continued as he began slowly moving down your body. Grabbing hold of your t-shirt as you wiggled beneath him, Bucky quickly divested you of your top, as his eyes got a close up look at the bra he had glimpsed earlier.

“Beautiful.” he breathed out as his palms came to rest on your mounds while his lips explored your now exposed stomach. Continuing to squirm around as his tongue, lips and facial hair tickled your flesh, all rational thought went out the window again when Bucky looked up at you before grabbing hold of your jeans and peeling them off your legs.

Now standing up and looking down at you, he winked cheekily at you before reaching for the hem of his henley and pulling it over his head. Leaning up on your elbows, you licked your lips as his glorious abs came into view. Noticing your heated gaze, Bucky maintained eye contact with you as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his pants and removed them easily.

Now stalking towards you in nothing but his boxers, he playfully jumped on the bed next to you before placing you gently upon him. “Like what you see Y/N?” he asked, and something told you that the use of your name and the lowering of his chin meant he was somewhat unsure of your answer.

Knowing what he had lived through while trying to understand the insecurity it obviously fostered in him, you reached for his chin and kissed him tenderly before speaking. "Absolutely Bucky.“ you said, smiling down at him. "But keep in mind, I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to.” you smirked.

Laughing gently as he pulled you down on top of him for a tender kiss, he smiled as he thought how lucky he was to have found you. Holding you tight as you nestled against his chest, he reluctantly asked the question he was afraid to get an answer to. "Doll, are you really sure you want to do this? Truth please.“

Thinking seriously about this, you reluctantly turned away from him, slightly afraid to answer after the previous exchange.

"Y/N?” he questioned firmly, drawing you back to your current predicament.

“I do, but … ” you stopped and licked your lips which were suddenly dry. "but I had rather hoped my first time would be in my own bed. Are you mad at me?“ you asked quietly, still unable to look at him.

"Oh Doll, you’re killing me.” he said, as he sat up while now holding you on his lap. "Of course I’m not mad at you. I too would prefer your first time to be in our bed.“ he continued, though you were too concerned with his reaction to pay much attention to what he was actually saying. "Come on you,” he grinned, “let’s get ourselves cleaned up and we’ll head downstairs for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Fantastic.” you replied. "But are you really sure you don’t mind?“

"Absolutely doll.” he kissed you reassuringly and standing up, carried you towards the bathroom as his plan to ingratiate himself into every part of your life was unfolding nicely.

Depositing you in the bathroom as he turned on the shower, you sat on the toilet and wondered what had gotten into you when you reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ass. Looking back at you as you rose to your feet, his train of thought became interrupted when you stood before him and uttered in your sweetest sing-song voice, “Care to help a girl out?”

Staring at you as his hands reached out to remove your panties, Bucky peeled them off carefully before pulling you towards him. "Doll you’re making it very difficult for me to be a gentleman. Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?“ he questioned as his hands traveled up to remove your bra and his lips latched onto yours.

Moaning into the kiss as he divested you of your bra thus leaving you completely naked in front of him, you nodded your head as you leaned into his fit body and worked your hands down the back of his boxers. Massaging his ass cheeks while he placed open mouth kisses along your neck and collar bones, he bit down particularly hard, causing you to wince, when your wandering hands pinched his ass harder than he thought possible.

"Fuck doll, knock it off, or I’ll take you right here on this floor.” he exclaimed while jerking his hips towards you so you could feel exactly what your ministrations were doing to him. Staring up at him playfully, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slowly rolling them down his legs, waited on bended knees for him to step out of them. Then tossing them aside, like he’d done with your lingerie, you leaned forward and ran your tongue along his shaft as you stood back up.

Groaning at the feelings you were creating within him and surprised by the level of control both of you were displaying, he quickly came to his senses and opening the shower door, ushered both of you inside. Washing as quickly as possible so as to avoid any further temptation, Bucky now understood why it was a terrible idea for both of you to share the shower. Smirking over at him as you bent over to wash your legs, Bucky swore that first chance he got you were going to be tied to your bed and teased until an apology passed your lips. As it was, his only option at the present time was to stand under the showerhead, turn on the cold water and allow the frigid temperature to cool the inferno raging in his loins.

Finally clean, both of you exited the shower and returning to the bedroom, dressed in silence before heading downstairs. Having had the good sense to book a table, Bucky placed his hand protectively on the small of your back as the waiter escorted you to the discrete booth where this whole rollercoaster had started. Sitting down and ordering your meals, you were painfully aware once again of all the stares directed your way. Taking your hand and squeezing gently, Bucky’s reassurance eased your nervousness and with his help the rest of dinner was enjoyed in your own personal bubble. Once the meal was over, a game of cards back in his room, also your room now, found you sitting in front of him with nothing but your lingerie while he had only lost his socks, shoes and top.

“You’re not very good at this, are you doll?” Bucky asked, gazing across at your now almost naked form.

“Maybe I’m better than you think,” you smirked back “and this was just the quickest and easiest way to get undressed for bed.”

“Ah doll, if that was what you wanted, I would have only been too happy to oblige.” he replied and neither of you could hide the grins that graced your features. Finally agreeing that a glorious bed was calling, both of you availed yourselves of the facilities before Bucky returned to find you staring at the bed.

“Y/N doll, is everything alright?” he inquired as his arms engulfed your smaller frame and your head fell back against his chest.

“I was just wondering what the chances are that morning will find me once again wrapped in your arms.” you said and you could feel the rumble in his chest as his laughter gently filled your ears.

“Doll I think we both know the chances are extremely high. Why do you ask?”

“Well in that case,” you said, releasing yourself from his embrace, “I might as well save you the trouble and sleep by the window now,” you continued, before turning around, kissing him tenderly and walking to the opposite side of the bed. Lying down and tucking yourself against his body, Bucky made good on his promise to hold you through the night and once again a restful night’s sleep easily claimed you.

Waking refreshed, but alone the next morning, your sense of disappointment surprised you as you not only wondered where Bucky was but how he had now become something you missed when he wasn’t there. Sitting up in bed, you were just about to get up and look for him, when the bathroom door opening announced his presence. Looking sleepily over at him, he quickly joined you back in bed before placing his arms around you and kissing your hair. "Everything alright sweet girl?“

"Kinda,” you replied quietly without looking at him.

Paying attention in a way that only someone with his life experience could, Bucky lifted your chin and noticed quite easily the concerned look clouding your features. "Tell me what’s worrying you babygirl.“

"I … um … ” you hesitated, wondering how he would react and where this particular decision would lead. "I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to check out of this hotel this morning?“

"I see,” he answered, not quite expecting this response, “and if I do that, where exactly might I stay for the next week and a half, hmm?”

Laying your head back down on his chest, his steady breathing helped calm you as the next words left your lips. "Well, there’s more than enough room at my house.“ you quietly replied, though you knew he heard every word.

Staying completely still as your words sunk in, you looked up in time to see sheer wonderment light up his features as the implications of your offer hit home. "Wait, just so there’s no confusion here, are you inviting me to stay at your place for the rest of my visit?” he asked while sitting you up and placing you on his powerful legs.

“Yes and possibly the rest of your life.” you quickly blurted out before you could stop yourself, though you knew his work wouldn’t allow him to accept.

“Could you repeat that?” Bucky asked, pulling your hands away from your face as you realized with blinding stupidity what you had said.

“Nuh uh. You know what I said, please don’t make me repeat it.” you begged, but he wasn’t having any of it. Flipping you easily onto your back, Bucky proceeded to use his lips and tongue to find every ticklish spot on your body and skillfully ravished each and every one until you could no longer stand the torture. “Alright, alright. Enough.” you cried out as tears leaked from your eyes and you tried to get your breathing under control. "I said you could stay for the rest of your life.“

"That’s what I thought you said, doll.” Bucky replied as he placed soft kisses on your lips before moving against your ear. "And just whose bed might I be sleeping in, hmm?“ he whispered as a burst of heat shot through your body and settled firmly between your legs. Unable to focus on anything but his skillful mouth now pleasuring your pulse point, you let out a moan when his teeth bit down on your shoulder to get your attention. "I asked a question, sweetie.”

“Mine.” you breathlessly replied, and you swore the smile that graced his features could light up a room all on its own. Kissing you once more, he lay back down beside you and pulling you flush against his body, asked if you were really sure this was what you wanted. “Absolutely. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but with you I feel safe and cherished. It’s a feeling I’d like to hold onto.”

Delighted that his plan was working out, having actually arrived in the area the previous week, he happily agreed to take you up on your offer. Then setting the alarm on his phone to wake you in two hours, he wrapped his arms tightly around you and lulled you back to sleep.

Waking fifteen minutes before his alarm went off, Bucky looked down on your sleeping form and hoped you never had to find out that it was Natasha who had first seen you in this same hotel a few months previous. Having been the day you had finally purchased your new home, she watched from another table as you ordered your food and ate in peace while keeping to yourself. Not knowing why, she followed you that day and finding you relaxing on a nearby beach, all she could picture was Bucky sitting next to you as the wave crashed around you. She knew at that moment, the love her friend was looking for, was right in front of her.

Returning back to the present and turning off the alarm, he went about sending a quick email to Sam, Steve and Nat to inform them of developments, before turning his attention back to you. In time his friends would welcome you into the fold, but for now, his main goal was to help you blossom into the self-confident goddess he knew you could be. Sliding his metal arm along your thigh, he caught hold of your panties and pulled before letting it snap back gently against your folds. Doing this a few more times while bringing his lips down on your bra covered nipples, he eventually woke you up with two minutes to spare.

Finding a wet sensation between your legs, not to mention his drool all over your bra, you tried to be pissed at him, but could only manage mild irritation. Joining him for a quick shower, both of you dressed quickly before heading around the suite and gathering up every stitch of your belongings. Once all the things were packed away, you once again threw your bag over your shoulder and taking Bucky’s offered hand, headed downstairs to the reception desk. Closing out his room account while reserving your now usual booth for Monday and Thursday nights at seven o'clock, you and Bucky then left the hotel and set off towards your house.

Planning on enjoying whatever the next week and a half brought, you had no idea as you slid the key into the front door, that Bucky fully intended taking you up on your offer. Filling your days with all your favorite activities, domesticity and unbelievable sex, as it was, seated in your booth in an unusually empty restaurant almost four months later, your slightly plump stomach hidden beneath a stylish top, the reality struck you instantly as Bucky dropped to one knee and opening a small box, asked you to marry him.

Knowing now that this was his plan all along and you had simply been played and maneuvered to this point, you held out your hand and said “yes” as he slipped the ring on your finger before placing his lips tenderly against yours and then moved down to kiss your growing bump. Finally having everything he wanted, he sat back down and ordered dessert as he watched you staring at the beautiful sapphire that now rested on your left hand.

“What are you thinking there doll?” he asked as you tore your eyes away from the stone and focused instead at the mundane pattern on the table tile.

“I was just thinking about what happens when the novelty of all this wears off.” you replied, gesturing to both the ring and your current condition without meeting his gaze.

Waiting for the waiter who had just arrived with your desserts to leave, Bucky got up and sitting down beside you, tenderly placed one arm around you, before pulling you close and resting the other on the life growing inside you. "You two, my love are not a novelty and I never want you to think like that again.“ he lovingly reassured you. "You are the most important things in my life and I will spend forever proving that to you. Now how about we finish our dessert and I will take you upstairs where this all began and remind you just how much you mean to me.”

Realizing as his words sunk in, that he had not only booked out the whole restaurant, but also your original suite for the night, a light giddiness eased your worries somewhat as you easily accepted his offer. Finishing your desserts and heading upstairs with Bucky’s arm protectively around your waist, the familiar setting once he opened the door and led you to the bedroom, brought back all the wonderful feelings and memories that led to where you were now … pregnant, naked and absolutely worshipped by a man you knew you never wanted to live without. Thus moaning and writhing beneath him as he gently thrust into your sweat slicked body, you let your fears melt away on the orgasms he pulled from you before he joined you in a post orgasmic bliss of tender kisses, cuddles and sleep filled with joyous dreams of things to come.

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avastrasposts · 6 months ago

Text

The British Connection - ch. 11

Summary: Grace Mallory makes a reluctant Billy Butcher and The Boys team up with an MI6 operative sent over from London to track down a dangerous supe killing people on both sides of the pond. Billy is being his usual arsehole self but maybe opposites attract?

It's 14 chapters and complete and 'll be posting a new chapter every day

Warnings: canon typical violence, smut, fluff, Butcher being his usual grumpy and unreasonable self, nasty supes, guns etc.

Eve took the stairs up to her flat, feeling herself smile like a fool from the short ride over with Butcher. The touch of his thumb across her lip had left a warm feeling that seemed to linger even now and she knew she was getting into dangerous territory by letting him continue to flirt. But she couldn’t seem to stop, the way his dimples came out when he gave her a genuine smile made her want to kiss them.

“I’ve got to stay focused, there’s too much at stake here.” She shook her head as she got to her door and unlocked it. There’s too many emotions in your head already, Eve, you don’t need the distraction of Billy in there too. She sighed and locked the door behind her, pulling off her boots and suddenly remembering she had no coat. Fuck. Eve pulled on her boots again and left the flat, realising she would need to buy a new one before tonight.

The short January evening was already dark when Butcher rang Eve and told her he’d be there to pick her up in twenty minutes. After buying a new winter coat she’d written up her report for Vauxhall and had a nap, preparing for a long surveillance session. When Butcher rang she’d just stepped out of the shower and was getting ready for the night.

She stepped out onto the street, Butcher’s car already parked in front, waiting for her.

“ ‘ello, gorgeous,” he greeted her with a grin as she got into the car.

“Hello, Butcher,” she sighed back at him but she couldn’t help smiling too and he saw it, grinning wider.

“I brought snacks for the night,” she said and held up a bag from the bodega on the corner.

“Lemme guess, more bananas?” Butcher replied as he pulled out into traffic.

“Yes, but I also got all the weird American sweets I used to see on the telly as a kid. And some crisps and soft drinks,” Eve rummaged through the bag, holding up various items, “They’ve got some seriously odd sweets in this country, I mean, cinnamon chewing gum?”

“Their chocolate is absolute rubbish too,” Butcher grabbed the Hershey’s bar Eve was holding up, “This stuff is inedible, give me proper Cadbury’s anyday over this shite.”

“And what’s the deal with this KitKat?” she held up a red and white chocolate bar, “It doesn’t even look like a proper KitKat, have you tried it?”

“Ye, it’s alright but it doesn't taste the same.”

“I figured if it’s a quiet night we can always have a taste testing evening,” Eve packed up the snack bag and put it between her legs and looked out at the neighbourhood, the scenery changing as Butcher drove the car up onto FDR and headed north towards the Bronx.

“Any news from MM during the day?” Eve asked.

“No, and no sign of the supe. MM and Frenchie went in the back way, using the high vis vest and ladder tactic,” he grinned at her before looking back at the road. “Managed to install cameras in the supes bedroom under the guise of being Health and Safety inspectors checking the smoke detectors. And Hughie got us into the hotel’s security system so we have access to the cameras they already had installed in the lift and the hallway.”

“That’s good, as long as McKay returns to the hotel we’ll have full surveillance on him.”

“Ye, Frenchie went in and got confirmation of him still staying there from the guy at the front desk. Spun him some story about making a delivery. The guy probably thinks it’s drug related but at this place that doesn’t matter.”

It took them about half an hour to reach The View Point Hotel, a run down looking place on a rough looking street. Butcher’s beat up car didn’t look out of place at all and Eve realised this was probably part of why he drove it. He pulled up a few cars behind a nondescript beige van parked half a block down from the hotel and they got out. The street was empty apart from a few young men hanging out down by the liquor store on the corner. They all turned and looked over at Butcher and Eve and Eve was suddenly very thankful, not only for the gun under her left arm, but also for Butcher’s presence.

Butcher and Eve scanned the street as they walked over to the van, Eve casting her eyes over the windows in the apartment buildings on both sides of the street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary but being close to the supe’s last known location was making her edgy. The way he had taken control over her last night was still fresh in her memory, she’d had no warning, just a chunk of time missing. She was determined to not let the supe get the drop on her like that again.

Butcher lightly tapped his knuckles on the van and after a few seconds MM opened up.

“Hey, man, right on time,” he said as he moved back to let Butcher and Eve in. Behind him Hughie was sitting on one of the chairs by the monitors that showed the inside of the hotel.

“Anythin’ to report?” Butcher asked.

“Na, it’s been quiet all day, McKey isn’t back yet and no one has been in the room.”

Hughie shifted in his seat and stretched, “We did find out that the day shift manager likes to make out with one of the cleaning ladies in the elevator though.”

“Find out if he’s married, might be a nice piece of information to squeeze him with if we need to,” Butcher said and sat down on the seat as Hughie stood up.

“I don’t think the dude gives a fuck if anyone knows, but I’ll find out,” MM said as he got his things together, “Frenchie and Kimiko on the next shift right?”

“Ye, told ‘em to be here at eight. We’ll get some sleep tomorrow morning and meet you at the office around lunch tomorrow if nothing else happens.”

MM and Hughie left the van and Butcher shut the door, locking it behind them. Eve had settled down on the second chair and was studying the monitors. The hotel was quiet and no people could be seen moving through the hallway outside the supe’s room.

“ ‘Ere,” Butcher pulled a paper bag from the duffel bag he brought, “Got us some better dinner than fuckin’ Hershey’s and KitKat.” He unwrapped a couple of Shake Shack burgers and handed one to Eve together with a box of chips.

“Thanks, looks good. I didn’t even think about proper food to be honest.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, watching the monitors.

“So, how do we do this?” Eve asked, swallowing down the last of her burger, “How do we take this guy down if he comes back here?” She grabbed a couple of chips and waved them at the monitor, “We’re going to need to get to him when he’s either sleeping or otherwise incapacitated.”

“Sneakin’ up on a sleeping supe does not sound ideal but it may be our only way,” Butcher replied, his brow furrowed as he looked over at Eve, considering her question.

“I don’t have much experience with supes but are they susceptible to drugs at all? Can they be sedated or knocked out?” Eve asked.

“Ye, most of them will be knocked out if you give them enough. The strongest ones are tougher but most will go down provided they’re hit with a strong enough dose,” Butcher wiped his beard with a napkin and tossed the crumpled burger wrapper in the bag.

“Do you think we could get access to something strong enough for this guy?”

“Ye, that won’t be a problem, the problem is how do we get it into him? Both you and I have been made by him, can’t exactly walk up to him and give him an injection. And I won’t let anyone else do it in case it doesn’t work, he’ll take control of that person the second he feels threatened,” He scratched his beard and turned back to the monitor, “But I like the idea of drugging him. Question is, how?”

They sat silence for a while, working through the problem while they finished their meal.

“The way I see it, we can get it into him in three ways,” Eve finally said, “injection, gas or food, right?”

“Ye, sounds about right,” Butcher said. “But gas won’t work, we need to get close in a fairly closed off space and by the time the canister is on the ground he’ll have taken control of one of us.”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Eve nodded. “And food is difficult, we’ll need to get access to his food or drink. Maybe we could intercept a delivery guy if he orders in but that’s going to take perfect timing, if he even orders food.”

“So injection then?” Butcher asked and looked over at Eve again as she raked her fingers through her hair as if she was trying to force her brain to come up with a solution.

Suddenly she looked over at Butcher, “What about a tranquiliser gun? Could you get hold of one of those? There’s a few modified sniper rifles that can shoot tranq shots from a pretty good distance.”

Butcher rubbed his beard as he thought through her suggestion, “Ye, that might work. We’ll get only one shot, if we miss we’ll spook him. But if we miss we’ll be out of sight and he won’t know who shot him.”

“And if it works he’ll be down for the count long enough for us to get him under control, blindfold and cover his hands.”

“We might even be able to shoot him through the hotel window, it’s facing the street,” Butcher pointed at the monitor showing the inside of McKay’s room. “I’ll ring Frenchie and get the gear together. Mallory might help us with some of it but Frenchie is our weapons expert.”

“Alright, so we have an inkling of a plan at least, now let’s just hope he shows up,” Eve said and leaned back in her chair, putting her boots up on the ledge.

Butcher made the call to Frenchie and settled in on the chair next to Eve, both of them keeping an eye on the monitors as they went through the snacks Eve had bought. Most got tossed back in the bag after a couple of bites but Butcher polished off the KitKat after giving a piece to Eve.

As Butcher crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it in the bag he glanced over at Eve.

“You know, I knew something was off with you when you showed us the CCTV footage of the two first killings, on the first day,” Butcher said, “That’s why I did the digging on ya and forced Mallory to give me your file.”

“What do you mean?” Eve asked.

“Someone like you, or me, we don’t look away just because someone gets killed. And when the first guy got his head bashed in you didn’t even flinch, and that video was in colour an’ all. But the second video, of your niece and your dad, you had your eyes on your boots when she did it. I was watching you. I knew there was something you weren’t telling me then. And then you did the same thing when you and I watched the footage again the other night too.”

“I keep trying not to think about it, just treat it as a job, Butcher. But seeing it…” Eve trailed off, looking at the monitors showing the dark interior of the hotel room. He looked at her but didn't say anything, her face was struggling to repress the memory.

“Ye, I know what you mean,” Butcher said eventually in a low voice. He adjusted one of the dials and the screen flickered and went steady again. Eve glanced over at him and saw the change in his face. The usually hard line of his mouth, the furrowed brow, has shifted into something akin to pain. He wasn’t seeing the screen in front of him anymore and he dropped his hand from the dial.

“Who?” she asked quietly.

“My wife. About a year ago.” Butcher said after a moment's silence, looking up towards the ceiling of the van, blinking his eyes. “It’s a long story but it was a supe. She got in the way and it killed her. I was there and I could do fuck all to save her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye, well, like MM said, we all have skin in the game,” Butcher shrugged his shoulders as if he’s trying to shake the memory.

Eve looked over at him and then back at the monitors, “I think it’s hard to do what we do if there’s not a personal stake, this life, the sacrifices. Lying to those we love, hiding what we do,” Eve sighed, “I can barely remember the last time I had a normal relationship with anyone, not even my family.” She looked over at Butcher again, “At least you managed to find someone, be grateful for that and the time you had with her. Even if the rest of it is only pain”

Butcher rubbed his face with his hand and sighed, “She would’ve had a better life if she hadn’t met me.”

“You don’t know that, Butcher,” Eve said softly. Butcher didn't reply and they sat in silence for a while.

“I had someone too,” Eve said finally, almost in a whisper. “He’s not in my file because MI6 didn’t know about him,” Her hand went to the necklace under her jumper, “I got him killed.”

“Who?” Butcher asked, he’s looking over at her now.

“Jack,” Eve smiled weakly as she said his name, “He was in my unit and we broke regulations by getting involved. But it was like we couldn’t stop it. He was like a drug to me, I couldn’t get enough of him,” Eve’s hand absentmindedly toyed with her necklace and Butcher realised it was a set of dog tags. “When we were on leave we’d go back to his flat in London and he’d make me breakfast in bed. He’d make the most god awful beans on toast and I didn’t have the heart to tell him. Who can’t even make beans on toast?” she smiled at Butcher. “I was just happy to have someone who knew who I was and who wanted to be with me.” Eve fell silent and Butcher could see her mind going back to her time with Jack.

“You remind me of him, Billy,” she said at last and Butcher noticed that she used his first name. “Same background, same giant chip on your shoulders about where you come from, same hard casing.”

“I don’t have a fucking chip on my shoulder,” Butcher protested.

“So you’re just fine working with someone with my background? Come off it, Billy. I knew it would be an issue from the second you heard my accent when Mallory introduced us.”

Butcher grumbled, he couldn’t really deny it.

“Ye, well I’ve had enough right cunts with your accents as my CO’s over the years. You lot don’t half know how to insult an entire regiment of East End boys.”

“Yeah, I know the type, they’re not too diplomatic when it comes to women in the service either,” Eve said, shaking her head.

“Are they his?” Billy asked, nodding at the necklace that Eve was still holding.

Eve looked down at the dog tags she was toying with, “Yes, Cochran gave them to me after...afterwards.”

“How did he die? Jack, I mean,” Butcher asked after a few minutes of silence in the van.

“He was the one who got killed when we took out the paras that had my brother and mother,” Eve pulled her eyebrows together and Butcher saw the tears welling up in her eyes at the memory.

“He was there because of me. He was only there because I asked him and he said yes because he loved me,” Eve drew a deep shaky breath, “So you see Butcher, you and I are more alike than you think. People we love die in front of us and there’s fuck all we can do.”

Butcher sighed deeply and looked at his boots, he could hear Eve trying to control her breath in little gasps. Finally he scooted his chair over so that he was next to hers. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close.

“You’re alright, luv,” he said, letting her head rest on his shoulder, “you’re alright.”

Chapter 12

#the boys #karl urban #billy butcher #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher fluff

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tapwater-made-everyone-gay · 1 year ago

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-Fight-

Hey! I’m not dead! yay✨ I made a small story between Wook and Hyuk and someone convinced me to post it here too. (SPOILERS; This ‘au’ takes places a week after the green home residents escape. Hyuk and Hyun make it out with them.)

Summary: Wook once again made the choice to put his life at risk to protect the group and got separated. The others believed he had gotten killed by a monster, but he ends up finding his way back to their new apartment. Everyone seemed happy to see him. Everyone but their leader.

CW - some cursing, angst (hurt/comfort)

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“Care to explain why you’ve been avoiding me?” Wook’s voice rang out through the empty room Hyuk had secluded himself in, rummaging in his backpack to look for god knows what. The comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as the young boy stayed silent, not even bothering to turn towards the older man. It had been like this for almost two days now, Hyuk barely bothering to look in Wook’s general direction after he had come back, not to mention how passive aggressive he had been with every conversation he was forced to have.

“Hyuk..” before he could even reach out, the boy had zipped up the bag, picking it up and turning to walk out the door.

“Hey!” Hyuk yanked his shoulder away as Wook tried to reach out and grab him, suddenly turning around to face him. The glare he gave was venomous, hostile in a way Wook had only ever seen once; directed at a group of criminals they had met not long ago, immediately followed up with a suggestion of murder. It was concerning now for the man to see it so heavily directed at him. So he just stood there, trying to remember exactly what he had walked in here to talk about to begin with.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Wook asked, doing his best to regain the reins on the current situation. He wasn’t quite expecting Hyuk to scoff at his words.

“Maybe if you weren’t so keen on abandoning us all the time then you’d know.” The air suddenly felt thick around the two, Wook taken aback by Hyuk’s far from gentle words. They felt sharp like a knife, so accusatory in tone that he had to wait there a second to process what he had just heard.

“W-what??”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Hyuk mumbled, so quiet that Wook almost didn’t catch his words. He didn’t quite need to as Hyuk once again went to walk out the door, preparing to throw his backpack over his shoulder before Wook blurted out,

“Okay, you’re right! I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m never going to if you don’t say something.” Despite pausing, Hyuk stayed silent. His face, while still showing some contempt, had a mixture of something else. An expression that looked as if he was struggling within himself to keep from berating the man right there. Still, he kept his cool and simply gave a frown.

“Hyuk, would you give me something to work with here, and stop walking away the moment I’m around!” Wook had shouted the words louder than he had intended, struggling to keep his emotions in check. It’s not like this is the first time he’s had a blow up at the boy, but it had definitely been the first where he had wanted things to be better for the two of them.

“Why do you care?” Those weren’t the words Wook had expected from Hyuk, but he had learned by now to not expect anything from their unpredictable leader.

“What?”

“Why. Do. You. Care. Why now? Why now when we needed you then too?” It was scary, just how calm and quiet Hyuk had sounded. Wook would’ve felt more prepared if he had simply yelled at him, went to smack him, or simply got up in his face. He wasn’t used to dealing with people so non-aggressive in their confrontations.

“Hyuk, what are you..” Wook sputtered out, not quite able to properly find his voice. Thoughts and questions were flooding through his brain so quickly that he didn’t have time to grasp onto a single one.

“Are you that stupid or do you care so little about me that you didn’t even notice?” Suddenly, every thought disappeared, leaving the man to grit his teeth in an anger he couldn’t hold back.

“God damn it kid, would you stop being so damn vague for once and just talk like a normal person?!” Wook snapped, taking a large step towards the boy in front of him.

“Maybe put in an effort to stick around for once and we wouldn’t have to have this conversation!” It was then that Wook had reeled back in shock, caught off guard by the sudden rise in volume. Hyuk never yelled in a situation like this. He was too calculated, too focused on keeping things the way he wanted them to let emotions take over like that. And, yet, something set him off, pressed such a sensitive button that he felt like he had no choice but to shout out for only Wook to hear.

“Maybe, just maybe, quit abandoning us to go be a hero! Maybe quit abandoning me so you can gamble with your life!” Just like that, every emotion Hyuk had ever held back, hidden away, was let out. Wook watched as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill as he finally dropped the bag to his side. His breathing was uneven, trying to stop any sob that might escape him while his body shook.

“Hyuk..” Wook spoke quietly, still and waiting as Hyuk made his way over to him, stopping right in front of the man.

“You don’t get to throw away everything we’ve ever built together y..you bastard! Making people care about you only to turn around and leave! Do you even understand how cruel that is?!” It was then that Hyuk had looked up to meet Wook’s eyes, and he swore his heart broke at the sight. Hyuk had tears streaming down his face by now, his expression a mix of unfiltered bitterness and utter despair. An emotion, Wook thought, that should never be felt so heavily by someone so young. Despite it all, he stayed silent.

“You act like you’re above it all! Like you can just survive anything you put yourself through! Like you can just do whatever you want and get away with it!” Hyuk went to shove and hit Wook's chest, not doing much to budge the much sturdier man. In fact, he barely even felt it, the boy’s body too weak and fatigued to deliver a proper blow. Still, he kept at it, sobbing and screaming much worse than he was a second ago.

“Kid..”

“Why? Why can you get away with it? Why am I still in the wrong for being upset when you hurt me?! Why am I always wrong..?” His words finally hit a special spot in Wook as he moved to wrap Hyuk in a tight embrace, holding the boy close as he cried into his shoulder. It was hard to hear just how much he had hurt him, how leaving to help the others so many times had affected him.

“I was so..scared…so scared you were gone forever. I can’t lose you, not now. Not after everything we’ve gone through..please..” Hyuk’s sobbing was beginning to quiet down, but it still didn’t stop, tears dampening Wook’s shirt in the process. The man paid no mind, rubbing slowly up and down his back.

“Hyuk…I..” He paused, taking a glance down at the boy and choosing his next words as carefully as possible.

…………..

“I’m sorry kid..”

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#sweet home manhwa #sweet home webtoon #sweet home #sweet home angst #hyuk lee #wook pyeon #lee eun hyuk #pyeon sang wook #writing this made me sad #i’m actually really happy with how this turned out #my best work #i love their dynamic #best father/son duo award🏆

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years ago

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here are the plots if you want to use them to vote:

this is what I'm thinking would happen with each ship (for more context, see the post below this that says story poll):

Jily:

After curfew was one of Lily and James’ favorite times to meet. Some students were always sneaking around but none of them bothered to venture up to the Astrology Tower or the owlery. They would usually hold hands as they got their mail and the picnic basket the house elves were kind enough to prepare before going to the Astrology Tower.

Lily got herself comfortable on the blanket, feet swinging back and forth in the air. She paused when she saw a small parchment envelope. Eyes squinting, she examined the way her name was written before holding it up to her nose.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” James asked as he took the food out of the basket.

“This letter, it’s from Y/N. She’s a Hufflepuff in most of my classes. She always scents her letters so they smell like a garden.”

“Y/N… You’re talking about Hufflepuff’s chaser? She’s wicked fast, it’s insane. She should be their seeker.”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“What did she sa— Hey, I got a letter too. I bet it’s about the upcoming match.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Not everything is about quidditch.”

“Whatever you say, love. Open the letters on three?”

Both of them smiled as they tore through the envelope. A range of emotions went across their faces as their eyes scanned the small paragraph you wrote over and over again. Like a mirror, they clutched the envelopes to their chests. Lily nodded.

“You go first.”

“Um.” James started scratching the back of his head. “She’s liked me since we were fourth years but she doesn’t expect anything. She just needed to get it off her chest so she could try to get over me. If there’s a small chance I like her, she wants me to just send a letter… You?”

“Are you serious? That’s what she wrote to me! I mean, she only liked me since last year but it’s almost the same.”

You took your breakfast to the Black Lake pier. It was one of the last days of good weather before autumn really settled in. You also did it to escape the claustrophobic Great Hall while you internally berated yourself for sending those letters. Why would you do it so close to the start of the school year? You should have waited until summer when everyone would have graduated and never looked back. Then you could have at least avoided them.

Taking off your shoes and socks, you sat at the very edge of the pier and let your feet kiss the water. The elves had made an amazing breakfast: apple streusel muffins, bacon, honeydew, and pumpkin juice. You took a bite and just looked over the lake. Two bodies plopped down next to you, making you jump. You turned your head to see James on your right side and Lily on your left. They placed two envelopes on your lap.

“Read James’ first.”

Delicately, you peeled open the envelope and pulled out the letter. As if it was a neon sign, the words Lily and I are dating, blinded you. You pressed the letter to your face and threw yourself back until you were laying on the pier. This was possibly the most embarrassing thing ever. Even more embarrassing than dropping the quaffle after you sneezed in the middle of a game. Lily picked up the other letter off your lap and held it over your face. You tentatively took it. The couple laughed when you threw the letter.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

James nodded. “Lils and I talked about it and we want to give it a try with you. If you’re okay with that?”

Wolfstar:

You and Remus gave each other looks from opposite sides of the Hufflepuff common room. Sirius lost his shoes hours ago and his shirt was gone only mere minutes before you and your friend locked eyes. Remus shook his head, peeling himself from the wall as he did so. You made your way to the yellow wool couch where his shirt and shoes hopefully still were.

You chuckled as you met Remus at the front. Sirius was slumped over him but still trying to party. The taller man readjusted himself before.

“Y/N, can you stop by the kitchens and get him something?”

“On it.”

Racing up the stairs before Sirius threw up on himself, you made it to the marauders’ dorm. There was a lowlight coming from the bathroom and the sound of Remus trying to get Sirius into the bathtub. You went in, setting the tray with bowls of chicken noodle soup and watermelon chunks and cups of tea on the counter before making your way to the belligerent boy sitting on the edge of the tub. Remus scratched at his head.

“Padfoot, what can I do to get you in this bath?”

“I told you, get in with me. Y/N too.”

You turned the faucet and grabbed some bubble bath. “Okay, pretty boy, let’s take a bath.”

“What?” Remus asked you.

“Just do what he wants so we can sleep. He won’t know the difference between us in underwear and him naked.”

Remus put a charm over the food to keep it warm before joining you and Sirius. Your cotton underwear stuck to your body as the water soaked you. Remus sat in front of Sirius while you sat behind to try and avoid seeing him completely naked. He lathered up a washcloth to wash Sirius’ body while you did his hair.

“It would’ve been easier if he turned into a dog,” he grumbled.

“Rem, he can barely stand. Do you think he could actually turn himself right now… Yes, pretty boy, let me just condition your hair and then we can eat. Okay?”

Sirius sighed, bending all the way over to look at you. “I like it when you call me pretty boy.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I like it when Moony calls me caraid. Do you know what it means?”

“It means love in Welsh.” You looked up at Remus. “And you swore British speech wouldn’t rub off on you, saying love every sentence. You’re starting to sound like me and James.”

“Shut up.”

You and Remus finished washing Sirius up and got him into some pajamas before sitting on Remus’ bed to enjoy the food. Sirius didn’t eat much but enough that he hopefully wouldn’t be too hungover in the morning. He whined until you and Remus slept in bed with him.

The raven-haired boy woke up in the morning, clutching his head. Letting his hand fall, he froze when he felt something underneath him. You woke up when Sirius screamed. Remus came to shortly after, groaning his complaints.

“Is there a fire?” he asked.

Sirius slapped both his hands to his cheeks. “Did we sleep with each other?”

Remus opened one of his eyes. “Did you really just ask if we had a threesome?”

“I’m in bed with both of my crushes and I can’t remember anything about last night, excuse me for forgetting if there was a threesome or not.”

You and Remus sat straight up. “Did you just say crushes?”

Sirius/James:

Instead of being at Hogsmeade with everyone else, you and Sirius were making out in his dorm. Friends with benefits wasn’t exactly what you would call each other because you had only made out. But you were getting there. His hands were under your shirt, groping your breast, over your bra. Your hand was down his pants, fingers toying with the band of his underwear before slipping past it. All clothes were shed aside from your panties and his briefs.

You groaned as he pushed one finger into you. Sirius’ lips left yours to kiss up and down your neck. You both jumped when the door opened. James was so concerned with reading his muggle book Remus gave him that he didn’t even notice you two at first. He only looked up when he heard the band of your underwear snap when Sirius tried to quietly pull his hand away.

“Well, don’t stop on my account but I’m taking a shower and finishing the book in the comfort of my blanket.”

Sirius looked down at you. “I don’t mind… Y/N, we don’t have to.”

You kept looking between him and James. “It’s kind of weird if he doesn’t join.”

Both men’s eyes went wide. James gulped but his feet were carrying him closer to the bed.

Remus/James:

You looked down at Remus’ hand holding your wrist as he led you through Hogwarts. Your friend was more frantic than usual which was saying something because since knowing Remus when you were both three, he was a somewhat frantic boy.

“Rem, slow down. My legs are shorter than yours, you know.”

He didn’t say anything but slowed down ever so slightly. The two of you didn’t completely stop until you were in one of the empty classrooms on the seventh floor. He locked the door and sat you down on the large desk at the front for whatever professor chose to teach in that class for the day. You watched your friend scratch at his head before tucking his hands in his back pockets. He was looking extra cute today. Your breath caught in your throat. Right then and there you made a decision. After Remus told you whatever he needed to say, you would confess to him.

“I need your help,” he finally said.

You giggled. “That’s what you dragged me up here for?”

“Y/N.”

“I help, you don’t have to whine. When have I not helped you?”

“I like James and I want to tell him that but I don’t know how.”

Your smile dropped. Remus was gay? And he never told you? Part of you was sad that you liked him, knowing his eyes were on someone else. Another part of you was sad that maybe you weren’t safe enough of a space that Remus ever felt comfortable telling you about crushes or his sexuality. And then you focused back on the fact he liked James… the other person you had a small crush on.

“Y/N? What’s the problem?”

You were snapped back to attention, focusing on the boy in front of you. You jumped down from the desk when you felt tears in the corner of your eyes threaten to fall.

“Yeah, I’ll help you. You guys look good together,” you said before you started to leave the room.

Remus grabbed your hand before you could leave. “Will you turn around and look at me?”

“No.”

“Why did you start crying?”

You sighed. “I’ll tell you if you let me go.”

Remus nodded even though you couldn’t see and let go of your wrist. Slowly, you turned and looked at him. There was no way you could say it in a way to spare your feelings. So, you decided to just be outright and then run.

“I like you, like like you,” you said before tearing open the door and booking it.

You were only a little bit down the staircase before Remus caught up to you. You tried to yank out of his hold but he just moved to the steps below you.

“You said you’d let me go if I told you. Please let me leave with some dignity.”

“But you didn’t let me speak.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“After the bombshell you just dropped, I think I do.”

You sniffled. “Rem, I get it, you’re gay. I don’t feel like being let down gent—”

“I like you too.”

“But you like James.”

“Dude, you do know what bisexual means, right?”

“I forgot.”

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asked, breathlessly. He gave you a peck on the lips when you nodded. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“This whole summer I tried to ask you out and you never returned the sentiment. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship so I stopped.”

“You asked me out?”

“Merlin, Y/N. Was me saying let’s go on a date to the beachfront restaurant on couple’s night not obvious?”

“I thought it was so we could get free cake.”

“You’re unbelievable… But I do have feelings for James too. I just wanted to tell you that.”

“Rem, I have a small crush on James too.”

He gave you a side smile. “Should we do something about that then?”

Jegulus:

Regulus decided to get some quidditch practice in early on a Sunday morning. The pitch would be clear and even when it was later in the morning, the other players would all be at Hogsmeade. Putting on his gloves, he started to walk into the pitch when he heard two voices.

You and James were practicing quidditch. Well, he was practicing and you were pretending to help him while really you drew pictures of the gnomes that ran by and posed for you in exchange for bread. Not many people took art as an elective but you enjoyed it. James flew low and just practiced throwing a quaffle — he sometimes took over for the Gryffindor chaser — so he could talk to you.

“Did you see Regulus the other day?”

“How could I not? He rolled his sleeves up and it was so hot. Do you think he’s noticed our staring?”

“Nah. Thank God he’s more oblivious than his brother. You know, Pads almost killed me the other day because I said Regulus’ hair looked the best in the entire school that morning.”

“That sounds like Sirius,” you said with a laugh before standing up to throw the quaffle to your friend. “I want to kiss Reggie’s face off.”

“Get in line… hey, Y/N, do you want to kiss each other’s faces off after this?”

“Hmm, why not. Ugh, I wish we could just date him?”

Regulus came out from where he was hiding. “Okay, then date me.”

You dropped the quaffle and James fell off his broom. Both of you looked at the man in front of you.

“I’m sorry?”

Regulus shrugged. “Date me, then.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

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joeabdelsater · 1 year ago

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Assignment 3: Part 1

This project is titled "Nostalgia and Memory". One object in particular evokes a sense of nostalgia within me every time I see it. It's a retro TV that we have in my family's mountain house back in Lebanon. Back when we were kids, my grandfather would always play for us some cartoons and we'd watch them together on this TV, that to this day still exists. Every time we went back to the mountain house to spend the day or the weekend, I would get a flood of sweet memories from my childhood.

Since this TV holds so much nostalgic and emotional importance for me, I decided to recreate it as a 3D game asset that could be displayed inside of the Unreal Engine 5.

I first began by looking for references online to help me get details on the structure from different sides of the object, as I only had pictures of the TV from the front. I was unable to find the exact same version online, but I was able to find similar ones from the same time period and the same manufacturing company. I also came across a 3D model posted on https://free3d.com/3d-model/retro-tv-toshiba-blackstripe-9624.html. It was similar in shape, so I decided to use it as a guide for modeling.

At first, I was trying to do the same thing that the creator of this asset did, and model the entire object as one piece. After a few attempts, I realized that this method is actually not well optimized at all for video games, so I decided to follow my own method of work. I decided to split the mesh into multiple pieces that are modeled individually, then combined to form the asset. I also divided the asset into 3 levels of detail: the first level refers to the main shape of the TV and all the parts that will need to be modeled. The second level represents all details that could be done by baking textures, but I still chose to model to get a cleaner look. and the third level being all the details that will need to be made using textures only.

And that's how I ended up with an 8K polygons TV asset that is better optimized than the 40K polygons model I had found online. This was my first time taking into consideration optimisation and polygon count, so it was pretty satisfying to see how two assets of different polygon count ranges could still look similar. This exercise helped me get over the misconception that I had about having to increase the number of polygons of game assets to achieve a good level of detail. Since I ran through multiple problems when modelling the TV, I was able to learn how to create a good topology and a good looping system to prepare for UV unwrapping.

After I was done modeling, I gave each set of parts a common material inside of 3ds MAX and unwrapped each piece individually so that I am able to apply high-resolution textures inside of Substance Painter.

Sources:

Free3d (n.d.). Retro TV Toshiba Blackstripe 3D Model. Free3D. [online] Available at: https://free3d.com/3d-model/retro-tv-toshiba-blackstripe-9624.html.

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the-stray-storyteller · 2 years ago

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This is purely a rant and needlessly long post. Anyways.... I just love to see the difference between my old work and new. How much it has changed and improved.

I mean looking at Havenpoint. It is so very different from the original. Apart from the plot that is. The first few chapters are more or less similar because they are introductory chapters.

Havenpoint:

The girl was still on top of me, my request having been ignored. I grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her off. She got onto her feet faster than I did. She gripped my arms and pulled me up without asking my permission. I opened my mouth, whether to shout at her or curse at her I do not know but before I could say anything she started to speak. “Well, would you look at that,” her bemused eyes scanned me from head to toe, “I’ve caught a friend! One that is still alive!” Her tone was eerily jubilant. “Friend?” I muttered wondering when that had happened. She let out a scoff, running a hand through her short messy locks. A gleaming white smile played across her lips. “Yes, I can hardly believe it either.” She slung an arm over my shoulder, dragging me along with her. I was too stunned to react or push her off.

Original:

But before I could inquire anything about it, “I’ve caught a FRIEND!!!! A LIVE ONE TOO can you believe it??” she then asked, sticking her face closer, obscuring my view of anything besides her ginormous brown eyes. I was too shaken up to say anything besides, “Uhm sure. Congrats” “You’re staying by me for the rest of the year.” My mom was worried I wouldn’t make any friends at school... I guess that problem solved itself. This probably meant I would interact with humans (or whatever she was) for the rest of the year. I wasn’t hoping to in case you were wondering. I was now stuck with a loud, clingy maniac for the rest of the year. I was too tired from travelling all these hours to protest, so I just went along with it.

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Havenpoint:

I smiled wistfully while staring outside the window. Every inch of the ground beyond our dorms was covered by pine trees, only night silhouettes at the moment. I took a deep breath, taking in the sweet resinous smell of the forest. A soft laugh escaped my throat. I pushed away and jumped onto my cot and threw my pillow at Natalie who was folding her clothes into the closet. I laughed at her surprised shriek.

Original:

I laughed. I couldn't stop laughing, my chest hurt and I couldn't breathe but still.What happened? Nothing I was just really enjoying jumping on my bed.”Who sleeps at 8:00 pm ? I don't! Do you Nat?I mean that's toooooooooo early” “Stop jumping, you still haven't unpacked because you were too busy finding everything in the room so interesting”somehow managing not to scream for my lack of discipline. Wow! Natlie is really patient.

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Havenpoint:

When Aidene Rayners called me out, and marched towards me with my roommate in tow I had almost walked away. The purple haired girl seemed to have a different smile for every single emotion she felt. She struck me as a type who would smile bitterly instead of crying, the type to show off her canines instead of getting angry. Worst part is that nobody would be able to tell the difference between her smiles. Aidene Rayners was the last type of person I would like to do business with. Alas, I was made of greed and hunger. I had issues rejecting the payment she promised to give in return for information. I had told the pair to meet me after school at the gates.

Original:

I almost ran away when I saw that crazy girl Aidene Rayners head towards my table.But then she said she wanted information and my reputation as the school's broker is very important to me. So I told them to meet me after school because the school bell had rang notifying everyone to get to class but I said mostly because I needed to prepare myself if I wanted to face the craziness of that Rayners girl.

#Havenpoint #Rant post #just ignore mre #needed to get it out

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alexcaldownapier · 2 years ago

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Film Project - Weeks 7-9

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ex0MYPCqpA6_UFaHwqbwG1pBaQsZqcnq/view?usp=sharing

Exercise 4

Two one-minute films using only silhouette to create an emotion, one using only natural light and one using only artificial light. Another one I’m not very happy with. I only managed to get one half of the exercise done (natural light). I was aware of the limitations I had on this one - trying to silhouette against the sky when you’re in a city is quite hard actually as the buildings are often in the way and I didn’t have time to get myself up a hill. So, I tried to steer into this and explore the idea of being separated/alienated from nature, staging someone against a view they’re not a part of. I had wanted to find increasingly wider windows, match cutting different places together, to show a growing yearning, before showing the impossibility and fear, by returning to the darkness. I didn’t stage them properly so I tried my best to match them in the edit, but they don’t totally work. I also feel like the outdoors also look too similar (obviously it’s all Edinburgh) but I wanted to have more of a range of places. The setting of the sun I do quite like, even though it is another symptom of my lack of preparation. But the fact that the sky gets darker as the windows get wider works well thematically, another bit of this feeling that trying to engage with nature in the midst of its rapid degradation is totally futile. Wanky ideas expressed poorly (the Alex Caldow effect). I then also missed the class where we looked through them as I was on a location recce for the documentary. I’ve had a look through a few peoples’ blogs, Sam’s (as usual) was gorgeous, if not a silhouette? I dunno, stunning anyway:

Film Project Development

So, I missed class for a recce - good thing the recce went well. I was able to start collecting sounds for my sound design palette and get more of an idea of the space and Nat’s ideas for the film. One thing I really love is the fact that Yoker is right by Glasgow Airport so there’s a plane flying overhead every few minutes. This sounds sarcastic, but I do really like the droning but developing sound of a plane for creating a sense of rising dread that is still part of the specific location we are exploring in the film. I’ll just have to try time my other recordings for when there’s not a plane flying. Got a lovely recording of a magpie, their rattling croak would also work well for the uncomfortable feeling of the film. And then also some bits of footsteps and a lady having a chat with her dog.

Then, this Tuesday, I had a tutorial with Zoe to talk about my plans for the film and she gave me some great advice on how to go about the location recording and some techniques to explore in the post-production. We’re filming Tuesday and Wednesday next week and I’m dead excited. One main thing Zoe advised, was that we use a stereo mic to get atmos wildtracks, something I’ve never done before. But this will then give me a good bed of sound to fit my other mono recordings into. I also want to use the stereo mic when recording the footsteps under the bridge to get the full effect of the reverberation in that space. Sam’s scheduled 2 weeks for me to do the sound design which I’m really excited about as it gives me enough time to do most everything I could possibly want to do.

I haven’t been doing a lot of work for Longboard Nights recently. I was working as a gaffer on a grad film (Care) for 5 days, which was lots of fun and also let me keep my lighting/rigging technique knowledge ticking over and improve my set-up speeds which will help me give better estimates to Jack for our shooting schedule. Ben and I have been developing the shot list which has been a lot of fun (boy’s some collaborator). We have most of the film shot listed (4/5.5 pages done) and in a way I think is quite economic but not frugal. Ben is also doing a grad film this week so I’m going to start with story boarding what we have nailed down and then getting the shot list done once he’s back and then finishing off the storyboards. This is something that I really want to have solid as last term I had some issues with communicating which shot or set-up we were doing when on set. I would like that the team knows exactly what each shot will look like before we get on set and we’re totally set to just GO. The bible has also been developing and I’ve passed it on to Kushal (not just AC, right-hand-man supreme). The tutorial with Andrew was really useful (far-side Key, Alex, far-side Key) highlighting some things I need to keep an eye on and giving advice on how to achieve what I’m wanting.

One thing I need to test is the shutter angle thing. I had planned to shoot the film entirely at 360 degrees to get this emphasis of speed and add to the kind of blurry, hallucinatory sensation of this weird lil warped world. It implies more than explicitly shows movement. I like the concept of it - I haven’t seen many films that use it consistently throughout. Andrew thought this a bit risky (it’s baked into the footage) and said that there’s a reason it’s not used more often. My only reference for its use is Collateral (2004) where I like it and don’t find it distracting. But yeah, Ben also wasn’t too sold on the idea, so we split the difference and went for 270 degrees, but, again, I need to test it out more so I can make a properly informed choice on it. I tested it for the lighting tests, but didn’t do a comparison. I just love the still of the fist as I think it gets the feeling across so much more than a less blurred image. Violence as an experience more than an action. Although, as Andrew said, this might not work very well in dialogue scenes or when we’re wanting to see clearly the motion of the actors’ face and get the nuance of the performance across. I still really want to do it, but yeah, tests needed!! Gonna try get that sorted for next week before we shoot the exteriors on the 23rd.

I’m feeling good. On top of my other modules and feeling pretty prepared for these shoots. Just hoping it doesn’t turn out like my cinematography exercises (disappointing, underwhelming and boring). Getting to crunch time now...

#film project

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radiant-reid · 3 years ago

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A Dream Come True

Summary: After a long few years of trying to have a baby, the Reids give up, until nothing short of a miracle happens at an inconvenient time.

1. Can you do something involving readers infertility and spencer comforting her 2. angst, hurt/comfort fic with post-prison Reid and pregnant!reader. Shes scared to tell him about the pregnancy because of what he went through so she acted different, Spencer asked her if it’s his fault, she reveals she’s pregnant and it’s like a fluff ending? 3. Spence dad to be fic where he feels the baby kick for the first time and gets super emotional since they tried to have conceive for so long and he loves the baby so much already

A/n: I combined these three requests and slightly changed the last one, but thank you, anons and I hope you like it !!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then fluff)

Content Warning: (There are a few potentially triggering topics) | mentions of sex and conception | discussion of spencer's cannon drug use | discussion of abortion | prison arc

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist Navigation

Having a baby had always been the next step. After being together for four years, moving in together, getting engaged, getting married, logically, the Reids were at a stage in their lives when they were prepared to have a baby. Not every couple had such a traditional, linear sequence of milestone moments, but they did.

No one was due anything in the world, and nothing was a guarantee, but something about their perfection should have given them some assurance. Or so the couple thought.

For months they had been struggling to conceive. For the first twelve months, they'd stuck to their usual routines, having sex whenever they were in the mood. Which should have been enough since it was a lot, but nothing came of it.

Spencer's concern dramatically increased after that, thanks to the fact he most definitely did the math, secretly, on which days Y/n was ovulating.

Then there was the first fertility specialist who told them they shouldn't be too worried about it, that their chances were slimmer than most couples and they could try IVF, but she believed eventually Y/n could naturally get pregnant.

When another six months of spontaneous sex and six of planned sex, it seemed like IVF or adoption was the only way they'd be able to have a baby.

Every single line broke her heart more and more, and seeing the pain she was in hurt Spencer. He did want a baby, but Y/n wanted one more than anything in the world.

He gave her the world. Each and every day, there was nothing he wouldn't do for her, but he couldn't fix this.

After the third fertility specialist and the second that day, Spencer could tell Y/n was trying to hold back her tears from 10am. As soon as they were through the threshold of their apartment, he had his arms wrapped around Y/n's shoulders, stopping her from walking further into the house.

"Darling." He cooed, holding her in a tight hug. His heart broke when her wet tears started to soak his shirt. "I-I...I'm sorry." He really didn't know what he was meant to say in a situation he couldn't improve. Seeing her cry, the helplessness of it all, and wanting a baby himself brought Spencer's tears on. Both of them were breaking down.

Her heart was clenching in her chest as the sobs rang out, finally unbottled. "Spence." She whimpered, pulling away to wipe away some of her tears. It didn't help. It just assisted more to fall out of her eyes in quicker succession.

"Let's sit." He suggested, pulling her over to the couch. She sat with her legs over his lap, where she could rest her head against his shoulder. His arm stayed wrapped around her waist, holding her tight enough that she couldn't move.

They didn't move or speak for a while, trying to process the loss of hope. When the tears and sobs slowed, and Y/n wasn't close to hyperventilating, she pulled back a little to wipe some more tears.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, voice hoarse from the crying and silence.

Something in her tone concerned him, telling him she was sorry for more than crying. "What for?" He cautiously asked.

Quietly, Y/n sighed. It had been a secret she kept from him for six years, not on purpose but because it was uncomfortable and felt too late to tell him now. Most of the time, it wasn't something she thought about. Since her mind was constantly focused on having a baby, it was brought to the front of her mind.

"I feel as though this is my fault." She managed to get out, keeping her voice level by distancing herself from the situation.

Spencer's hand slid up the back of her shirt, so they were skin against skin. "I thought I was the only one thinking that." He half-joked, earning a little smile from her.

"You wanna go first?" She suggested, still trying to formulate the sentences necessary to get her point across without crying.

"You can probably guess." Spencer pointed out, and she could. Only because it wasn't something that someone could forget. "It's been scientifically proven that long-term use of opiates can decrease sperm quality and quantity." Before she asked the question, he continued. "Long-term only means more than 180 days. I was... you know, for a lot longer than that."

The way he said it, like a fact, although it was, without any emotional significance, made her upset. She knew he tried to not feel about it. "Spencer." She cooed, holding his face in her palm, stroking over his cheekbones. His eyes revealed the inner pain and shame, though, betraying him with tears threatening to spill. "Please don't feel guilty about that. It's so much more important to me that you're clean. What happened wasn't your fault, and getting through it made you stronger. That's what's important to me, and that's what I'd choose over having a baby." Lightly, he nodded, finally letting the hurt show and the tears fall, which they both knew was better than keeping it bottled up. "But you know I don't blame you for this, right?"

When he only nodded, Y/n's gaze firmed into a stare. "I do." He verbally replied. "I promise. But what's bothering you?"

Damn, she wasn't clever thinking she'd be able to dodge telling him, but maybe it was easier than carrying the burden by herself and taking the secret to the grave.

"I've never told you this." She prefaced, biting her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Deep breaths in and deep breaths out were the only way she was going to get through it.

Spencer's maximum level of concern face was present, eyes focused on her and eyebrows prominently furrowed. "Y/n, you can tell me anything you need, and I would never judge you." He assured her.

With another deep breath, she nodded, collected enough to tell the story. "I was 18 in my first semester of college." She set the scene. "I got... and I couldn't..." Without knowing, the tears had started, and she struggled to get sentences out. Spencer was bright enough to fill in the blanks, but he struggled to hold her tight enough so that the pain would go away. "I wanted to get my degree and have my life sorted... I wasn't ready to be a parent, much less a single, teen mom."

"I love you." He said, a little out of the blue but because he knew she needed to hear it. "I know it doesn't help, but abortions very rarely affect fertility." He was cupping her cheeks that time, making sure she felt the love he had for her. "You deserve the right to do that, and I would never judge you for it. I think you're so strong for what you did, especially to only be 18. The decision you make will always be the right one, Y/n, and I love you."

She smiled, wondering why she didn't tell him before, although his reaction only confirmed that he was the best person she knew. "I love you, too." She replied at a louder volume, shuffling so if it were possible, they'd be closer together.

Spencer leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss, pulling back to rest their noses together in a more intimate act. It was easier, for both of them, to breathe like that.

"Do you want to talk about it now or later?" Spencer whispered.

She thought it over before realizing it was better to get it over with and not keep any more secrets. "Now." She decided. "I'm going first, though." He chuckled lightly, nodding and moving their noses against each other. "I-I don't want to waste our lives if this isn't something that's meant to happen for us. Of course, I want kids, but I can accept not having them."

"Yeah." Spencer nodded again in agreement. "Your happiness means more to me than needing kids does. Plus, we're the cool aunt and uncle to Henry, Michael, and Hank."

"And the perk of that is that we can feed them as much sugar as we like and hand them back." Y/n joked, feeling better now they were on the same page. He laughed with her. "In the future, I might feel differently, though." She added, her smile faltering.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "That's fair. I might, too. We'll pause this conversation with that as a decision and agree to revisit it if either of us wants to, with no judgment or reservations."

Before Spencer, she didn't know how someone could always know the right thing to say, but he did, and she appreciated the talent enormously.

"I agree." She held out her pinky finger, locking it with his. Then she moved so she could whisper in his ear. "And I do find the practicing aspect, without a hundred ovulation tests, enjoyable."

"Oh, darling, I agree," Spencer muttered, keeping one arm on her back and placing one under her knees so he could pick her up.

And then he went to prison. A day more heartbreaking than when they realized they weren't going to have a baby. A day when all of their happy memories were far too far away for her to get any relief.

It was the hardest thing she'd ever dealt with, knowing things were worse for her sweet boy, who didn't have a mean bone in his body and was innocent.

It wasn't what she was thinking about, but she was grateful she wasn't about to give birth or that she had a one-year-old like when they first started actively trying or a two-year-old.

Somehow, Spencer made it through, and she was eternally grateful to whatever forces of the universe made it possible. She was sure no feeling would ever live up to laying next to him for the first time in months.

For the entire first month that he was back, they stayed side by side. Spencer wanted to be as close as possible for as long as possible, and any worry she had about things being different was gone.

He wasn't the same person- obviously- but, deep down, he was still Spencer, and that's all that mattered. As for the damage, she could fix the damage.

Spencer was out so much, trying to prove to the team that he didn't need pity and that he wasn't broken, that he didn't notice when Y/n started throwing up in the morning and avoiding all types of coffee, so much that she purposefully got in the shower while he brewed his morning cup.

When she found out for sure, Y/n had no idea how to tell him. For a moment, she didn't think about what he was going to say, since her feelings took over. For a moment, it was just pure joy, a dream she had for years and years had just come true, and then she thought about Spencer.

Still, she had to tell him. When they first started trying for a baby, Y/n gathered ideas for telling Spencer she was pregnant. How to make it memorable, clever, and cute.

Similar to what had become typical for them, things didn't go to plan. It was just a random Wednesday, and he came home at 11, getting home before she came back from the doctor's.

For two weeks, Spencer had noticed her pulling further and further away from him after the month they spent together after he got out of prison. It broke his heart when he realized that they were heading towards the inevitable end thanks to the unfair consequences of his actions.

"Where were you?" Spencer asked quietly, looking up from his work when she walked past the office.

Y/n looked every bit as guilty as she felt, freezing in the hallway. "I, uh, had a thing." A very long time ago, she had learned lying to a profiler didn't work.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried to push away the presumption she was cheating on him. The thought that she was leaving and they were getting a divorce was bad enough.

"Y/n, can we talk?" Putting on a brave face was something he was good at, but with her, his emotions didn't follow the carefully composed routines of compartmentalization.

He had to know, Y/n realized, why else would he need to talk? And why was the word 'talk' so hostile and alarming with someone who had become the epitome of home?

The air in the room was chilling, so cold she felt suffocated.

"Mhm, of course." She agreed, stepping into the office and sitting down while trying to remain calm. It was difficult when she was feeling so worried.

With all the usual bedside manner he had, he cut right to the chase. "Do you want a divorce?"

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her with five words, four of which she heard regularly. The last one was so painful, stabbing at her heart with brutal strength.

"Is that a riddle or something?" She joked, falling miles short of being funny. Humor had always been her go-to avoidance. With no reply from Spencer besides a firm stare, she answered. "No." She choked out a sob, feeling embarrassed crying in front of someone that didn't love her anymore. "N-never, but if it's what you want..." It was almost too painful to say. "I-I'll sign." She breathed out all the air in her lung, drawing a shaky breath in.

Somehow, Spencer had profiled her behavior so incorrectly that it wasn't fair. "I don't. Y/n, I love you so much, but I can't figure out what is going on with you lately." He confessed, itching to touch her but staying stuck in his chair crying. "I know I'm not who you married, and I understand if you want to leave because I'm really not good-"

"Stop." She pleaded, not loudly but enough to be noticed.

It was Y/n who closed the gap, walking around to the other side of the wooden desk. Silently, she asked to sit on his lap, and Spencer agreed.

Before either of them spoke, they sat there and hugged, forcefully, like Spencer hugged her when he got out of prison and when they found out they couldn't have a baby.

"Spencer, you have to believe me when I say that you're good enough for me." She informed him. "Because, if you don't, I'm going to have to tell you every day." Just that made him chuckle, the beautiful sound that made his beautiful face look young and carefree.

"Can you tell me what's wrong, though?" He requested. "Because I would do anything for you, Y/n. I'll fix whatever is troubling you."

She knew all that was true, and it made her smile just a little bit because she realized the secret she was about to uncover. "I'm pregnant." Straightforward and direct, just what he liked.

For an entire minute, nothing happened. 60 seconds of silence, and each one felt like a million years to her. "Oh." In the time it would take him to read 20000 words, she got one syllable.

"Give me an emotion, Spence. Tell me how you feel." The internal hope came out as an external plea.

Somehow, hearing her made him more stunned. "I don't know if I can... do that..."

Her face fell, losing it's color as the sadness she was hiding was revealed. "Oh." She repeated what he'd said before. "But you used to want that."

"I do." Spencer blurted out. They'd done so much work to get to a point where he could voice how he felt, and he owed her that honesty. "I just... I don't know how I can be a dad after everything."

"Would you have gone to Mexico if I was pregnant?" She asked, which seemed like an odd question.

But after the few lies he told her about Mexico, he'd never do anything like that again. Without any hesitation or deliberation, he answered. "No."

"Then that's how you be a dad." She made her point. "You love our baby with the same unconditional love you have for me."

'Our baby' melted his heart, and he couldn't stop the smile threatening to take over his face. "I did some... things inside that I'm not...proud of."

Since he'd been back, Y/n had heard a few things about what happened. Mostly, in the middle of the night when he woke up yelling. She stayed strong about it all for him, watching him fall apart and helping to rebuild him afterward.

"I don't care." She nonchalantly admitted. "I know I've said this before, but there's nothing you can do to get rid of me. I'll never be ashamed of anything you had to do to survive, Spencer. The only thing that matters to me is that you're alive and sometimes okay."

Spencer's smile couldn't be hidden any longer, nor could the tears pricking his eyes. Taking her hands in his, he kissed her knuckles. "Y/n, I'm always okay with you because you make everything better, and I know...our baby will too." It felt so good to say, after so many years of trying to conceive and the indescribable amount of pain he'd gone through recently. Something, besides his wife, was finally working out for him.

Y/n leaned forward to kiss him, not wanting to hold off any longer. It was tender and passionate all at once, the endless love flowing between them.

When she pulled back, she rested their noses together like they did all those years ago. "Oh, I have something to show you!" She remembered, taking the little picture out of her back pocket and handing it to him.

Suspiciously, Spencer opened it, looking at the sonogram for a second before crying. Full-on sobbing tears like the day he got home. It alarmed her a little until she realized she had the same reaction, then she just hugged him, not willing to let go.

"It just hit me." He mumbled. "We're having a baby."

He was so sweet she couldn't help but fondly smile. "Yeah, we are." She agreed, finding his reaction a little amusing.

"The baby we wanted for so long." He added, trying to wipe up his tears. Y/n moved his hands to do it for him, desperate to touch him. "You really did it."

Gently she shook her head in disagreement. "We did it, Spencer. I'm only half of this dream team." She reminded him, using a finger to gesture between them before leaning in to kiss him and seal the deal.

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damnedparker · 3 years ago

Text

this must be the place

pairing: adrian chase/vigilante x reader (gender neutral, no y/n) warnings: canon typical violence, pining, confessions, taking care of wounds cliche, i think that's it summary: so. you find out that adrian will literally take a bullet for you. how the fuck are you going to ignore your feelings now?

title named after the talking heads song which is like the romantic adrian song for me

It was hardly ever silent post-mission in the van. Usually, there was chattering between Adrian and Chris, Adrian and you, or, hell, just Adrian. That, or some kind of music blasting from the speakers, sometimes Chris singing or whistling along. John and Chris arguing over something irrelevant. But today? It was quiet. Nothing except the road beneath the tires, the odd turn signal as Leota made the way back to the main headquarters.

Most of the reason for the silence could be easily seen by how half the team was asleep, or nearly there. It had been a grueling week trying to locate an off-the-grid group of butterflies that Emelia had received intel on. You’d traveled hours into the country, spent a few nights in the forest on watch, and a few nights in a motel that didn’t seem nearly as shitty as it truly was after camping for so long. Today had been the infiltration and execution of the remaining butterflies. It was a success, and you had all gotten out alive, but not without a few scares.

First, your base had been attacked by some allies to the butterflies. Bodyguards, your team had assumed, since they were human. Chris had been attacked first, while he was resting. You had to admit, these bodyguards were stealthy little fuckers, somehow not being noticed by you or Leota or Emelia while you were on watch. In hindsight, it was fucking hilarious watching Chris do a near tapdance trying to avoid the gunshots and fumble for his belt of weapons he’d taken off to sleep. But in the moment? Panic shot through you like ice when the first shots rang out and you heard his yell. Adrian had managed to lob a knife in the neck of one, shooting the other with his pistol at the same time. It was hot. Thankfully no one saw the way you had to physically slap yourself on the arm to focus back in on taking the rest of the approaching bodyguards out.

Emelia had been grazed by a bullet when you two were clearing out the top floor of the house together. It was very nearly much worse than that, the injury just scraping the left side of her waist. An inch or two to the right and it would’ve been all over. Especially since she was just getting back into the field after her wound in the first butterflies mission.

Fatal or not, this new graze must’ve still been a bitch to deal with, because every bump and pothole had Emelia screwing up her face in pain as she clutched her side.

The worst of all of it, though, both physically and with the emotional torment it was causing you at the moment, was Adrian. Adrian had gotten shot. Because he had quite literally stepped in front of a bullet for you.

The two of you had ended up in the basement of the house together, investigating noises you’d heard after the others went to double-check that they’d gotten all the butterflies. You were carefully clearing each corner, each pathway hidden behind the lines of storage shelves down there. You had met each other in front of the small clearing between the shelves, parallel to each other. From your view, you couldn’t see anyone in the part of the room in front of you. Nobody in the chairs, no noise, not a shadow. You had nodded to Adrian as soon as you looked around, and he began to do the same, so you had started to move forward to clear the rest of the basement. But just as you stepped out of your hiding place, into the light, someone slipped out from the shadows and a shot rang out. It all seemed to go in slow motion as you froze in shock, unable to do anything but think oh my god, oh fuck. You were mentally preparing yourself to get shot, or worse, when suddenly your vision went dark. Not from a wound, or even what you thought was impending death, but from Adrian, who quickly shoved himself in between you and the bullet. His arms pushed you backward, to the floor, and you heard the impact of the bullet, the jerk forward as it impacted heavily in his left shoulder. You could only watch in shock, still on the ground, as he grunted in pain before turning around and unloading his entire clip into the butterfly on the other side of the room. You remembered his tone of voice, his words so clearly. Any more of you motherfuckers hiding in here? You better stay the fuck hidden or your brains are going to be all over the wall, just like your friend here. A sharp thud had sounded between his sentences, accompanied by a squish. You'll become a part of this fucking concrete if you even consider touching them. I promise.

The anger that permeated his voice was unlike anything you’d heard from Adrian, someone who was constantly chipper, even at the most inappropriate of times. It radiated from his voice like the embers of a fire, crackling with protectiveness and disbelief that someone would try to hurt you. Kill you. It shook you so badly that you were still on the floor when he finished checking the rest of the room. When he turned back to you, his expression shifted to something so soft, so concerned as he fired a thousand questions asking if you were okay. As if he hadn’t just taken a round of lead in his left shoulder.

And even now, as he sat next to you, almost a statue guarding your presence, you wouldn’t be able to tell he had a gunshot wound currently permeating the flesh of his shoulder. Every so often, he shifted uncomfortably at a particularly hard bump in the road, a soft little grunt escaping his lips. But otherwise? He seemed more shaken emotionally than anything else.

Sure, the two of you were friends. Probably closer than anyone else on the team, save Emelia and Chris, who clearly had something going on together, even if they themselves weren’t sure of what it was yet. But Adrian and you? You were the two who hung out the most, the two most comfortable with each other. You considered him the closest thing you had to a best friend, and although Adrian wouldn’t admit it, you were probably his as well. Chris be damned. Because Chris didn’t stay up all night playing Uno with completely nonsensical rules the two of you made up while drunk. Chris didn’t allow Adrian to show up at his place at three in the morning to tell you all about the latest internet rabbit hole he’d fallen down until you passed out on the couch together. And Chris certainly didn’t listen when Adrian opened up at rare times about his feelings, deep into the night, usually with half a bottle of wine in him. And maybe it was a little over-confident, but, really, Chris didn’t have Adrian looking at him the way that he looks at you. Like you’re the only thing in his world. And sometimes you felt like you were making it up, but the way your heartstrings tugged every which way and your stomach flipped inside out told you otherwise.

And now? When he stepped in front of a bullet for you without any hesitation? It only made that little inkling become a whole blot, smudging over any rational thought in your brain until all you could see in your head was Adrian’s gorgeous little grin he gave you when you laughed at a joke he said, the endearing way he’d text you good morning and good night every day without fail, his little dorky happy dance whenever you did something nice for him just because you wanted to. Because you really, really liked him.

God fucking dammit.

As you came back to the present, out of your thoughts and touching the ground again, you suddenly realized how close you were to Adrian. His right thigh pressed to yours, his body heat warming you down to the core of your bones. The worst part? You wanted more. You wanted to press your whole body against him, hug on him and kiss him and tell him how much he meant to you. That he’d made you feel happy at a time when you weren’t sure what that felt like anymore. He made you feel seen. Even like a teenager again, giddy and driving around with the windows down at night just to feel the wind, feel the music blasting from the speakers.

But you just settled for dropping your head gently on his shoulder. You tried not to notice, but it was impossible to forget the way his body practically melted under you and he shifted his posture down a little to get more comfortable. The two of you sat like that, sides pressed together, and you nearly drifted off from the exhaustion in your body and mind. You only woke up suddenly when Adrian gently nudged your head away from him.

“Hold on,” he mumbled under his breath as he fiddled with the pauldron of his Vigilante armor still covering his shoulder. Shame and embarrassment began to flood your features as he didn’t even spare a glance at you, and you began to shrink away from his warmth.

“Sorry, I—“ You began to whisper, for fear of drawing the attention of your teammates to the situation. Adrian furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes squinting beneath the lenses of his glasses when he finally looked up at you for a moment.

“Huh?” He fiddled with the pauldron some more until it popped off with a small click. He placed it next to him on the seat, tilting his head to the side as a gesture. “Here. S'probably more comfortable now.” The embarrassment shown in the pinks of your cheeks quickly changed to something almost shy when he gave you a gentle smile. You quickly returned to your previous position before he could notice and got comfortable again. Adrian leaned his head just slightly against yours this time, a reciprocation of your offer of affection that made you a sticky pile of goo. When his hand fumbled over your thigh, you were surprised his fingers didn’t go straight through as he threaded them with yours.

Apparently, the movements of the van and the warmth of Adrian next to you had lulled you to sleep, because when you woke up, your hand was empty and he was now gently poking you in the side. You yawned and cracked your neck as you moved away from him, noticing everyone start to wake up. You doubted they had the energy to make a whole thing out of the two of you cuddled up together like that, but you weren’t in the mood to test that theory.

The entire team trudged out of the van like zombies, making their way to the headquarters to drop off anything they didn’t need to take home with them. Adrian parted from you to get his wound checked on, and probably sewn up by John, since Emelia was out of commission. You could have just gathered your things and left like the others, but you resigned yourself to waiting for Adrian. If you didn’t stop and talk with him now, you’re not sure you’d ever be able to. So, you parked yourself on the curb outside and waited, the cold air soothing against the cuts littering your face. They could be cleaned later.

Time dragged on just as your thoughts did, cycling through every possible situation of the conversation soon to come. It was only stopped in its tracks when Adrian sat down next to you on the curb. John had exited the HQ a few minutes before with a small wave to you as he went, so you were anxiously waiting for the one person you wanted to see to finally approach. And now here he was, in fresh civilian clothes, clunking a small first aid kit down next to him. He wordlessly began to get out the antiseptic, wetting a cotton pad, and raising his eyebrows at the long cut from your wrist to your tricep. A butterfly had gotten you pretty nicely there, probably deeper than you were allowing yourself to consider, but it had been there so long that the sting was the last thing nagging at you.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that, Adrian, I’m fine—“

“I want to,” he stopped you, gently taking your wrist in his hand to dab at the cut. You barely noticed the twinge of pain as the medicine touched your open wound. “Besides, it's going to get infected if you leave it like that much longer. And I don’t want to see gangrene in person, ever. That shit’s fucking gross.”

“Glad to know that gangrene is our dealbreaker, noted,” You snorted, watching his face as he concentrated on cleaning your injury. He hummed softly as he went along, changing the cotton pad every so often when your blood tinted it completely pink. Your features softened and you felt a tug at your heart that was telling you now. “Why’d you do that back there?”

“What? I’m just cleaning—“

“No, why’d you take that bullet for me?” He paused his movements as he processed your words. You could almost see the gears shifting and turning in his brain as he hesitated to answer. He slowly began dabbing with the cotton pad again, now on your forearm.

“I have thicker armor than you, it’s better for me to take it if I have the chance,” was the first thing he said, a rationalization, not the truth. You could hear it in his voice; the way he jumped from word to word like he was playing a game of hopscotch hastily drawn seconds before. You were prepared to ask him no, really, before he seemed to gain the confidence to himself. He still concentrated on your arm as he let the next sentence free. “I would rather get hurt than see you hurt. Or worse. You— you already make me hurt all the time, but it’s like a good kind of hurt, all in my chest and in my stomach. And I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want you to leave me. And maybe I was being selfish, but I really hope it wasn’t so selfish of me to want you here. I just— I just really like you, you know? And sometimes I think you feel the same way ‘cause you let me put my head in your lap and play with my hair, and you laugh at my jokes when no one else does, and nobody’s ever done that before… I just. I don’t know.” He finally ceased, squeezing his eyes shut before discarding the cotton pad as he made his way up the length of your cut. You were nearly screaming in your head for him to look at you. To see his eyes, to confirm that he was really saying this right now, and it wasn’t a dream. The tear that rolled down your cheek, stinging your cuts to the point where you physically winced, told you that you were very much awake.

You were so lost in what he’d just confessed that you had barely noticed him wrapping up your arm, pushing apologies out of his mouth like he’d just dropped a piano on your head.

“Adrian,” You stopped him in the middle of his words. He looked up at you, his bright green eyes finally meeting yours. Your spine felt like jelly.

“You have cuts on your face, too,” he snapped out of your shared gaze to reach for the first aid kit. Your hands stopped him before they closed around the antiseptic again. This time, you were the one to thread your fingers together. His eyes flickered between yours and your lips so briefly that you weren’t sure if you imagined it. And yet again, you were proven wrong with the pressure of his lips against your forehead, just brushing one of the cuts above your brow.

“You know I like you, too, right?” Your voice was quiet now, nerves stealing any steadiness or volume you had left in you. “It hurts me, too. All over. I feel like I’m gonna collapse every time you’re around me.”

“I told you. Gangrene.” He mumbled, the tips of his ears reddening in the soft light of the streetlamp a few feet away. You let out a soft laugh.

“So, I’m confused. Is it a dealbreaker or not?” You leaned closer to him. He met you in the middle, forehead now pressed against yours, against the very same cut his lips had just touched. Yes, you were still awake.

“I think I can make an exception.” He grinned. His nose nudged your cheek as he moved impossibly closer. His breath fanned over your mouth and you were practically shivering with anticipation. The hand not still tangled with yours reached up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. It trailed slowly back over your cheekbone, down to cup your face. His hands were so big against you, strong as they held you. You were thankful; it was the only thing keeping you from becoming a sad little pile of ashes at his burning affection. His thumb, a whisper of touch as it traced a deeper cut underneath your eye, one that would likely leave a scar. You closed your eyes at the feeling, a tremble running through you. “I hope it’s not contagious.”

“You know we’re joking around, right?” You were sure you sounded like you just ran a marathon with the way you were out of breath. Adrian just chuckled, something you could feel with the presence of mere centimeters between your lips. You nearly jumped out of your skin when his mouth finally locked with yours. A hard kiss, closed-mouthed and chaste, but full of emotion with the way his body chased after yours when it moved backward slightly from the force. He pulled away briefly to look at you.

“Duh. Your arm would definitely not be a normal color right now if we weren’t,” he said, like he wasn’t out of breath and like he hadn’t just kissed the shit out of you for the first time. “Now stop asking questions and let me kiss you again.”

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase imagine #vigilante imagine #adrian chase fluff #adrian chase one shot #my fics #vigilante fluff #vigilante one shot #adrian chase

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ryuureikun · 2 years ago

Text

Confessions - SakuAtsu

A/N: I'm posting some twitter threads on here to preserve them! Enjoy!

Maybe it's a little mean- when Sakusa's staring at Atsumu through the doorway of Atsumu's bedroom like he's been burned, the silence stretching between them after Sakusa's confession, and Atsumu's first words are, "Are you kidding?" Sakusa slams the door in his face.

Atsumu doesn't go after him, even though he knows that there's not many places for Sakusa to hide in their shared house. Even if Sakusa holed himself up in his own room, Atsumu knows he would probably hear Bokuto or Shouyou's "Omi-Omi!" the minute he left it.

Atsumu doesn't go after him, because he's not sure what he would even say. Apologize? Well, Atsumu thinks his honest confusion is a bit fucking warranted, to say the least. "Miya," Sakusa says through gritted teeth. "I...I think I like you."

Sakusa didn't even have the decency to look pleased with the fact that he was confessing to Atsumu. He looked like he'd rather die than say the words out loud, but he had lost whatever violent battle he was having in his own head.

Atsumu has gotten many confessions, most being in high school when his volleyball team had their own fan club. Every confession included letters, chocolates, sweet words, nervous smiles. They didn't include the person looking ill with their displeasure at their own words.

Atsumu stares at his closed door for a long time, and tries to make sense of this. He's noticed, maybe, that Sakusa has been voluntarily spending more of his time with Atsumu lately.

Atsumu caught him in Onigiri Miya last week, sitting at the counter chatting with Osamu, looking up at Atsumu's arrival like he expected him to show up. Sakusa didn't stay more than five more minutes, but the conversation hadn't been as scathing as normal.

And then there were those few times this month that Sakusa made some vague comments about wanting to stay late to practice, and Atsumu latched onto it and stayed back with him. Atsumu's reasons were mostly volleyball- and maybe the delight of riling up Sakusa.

There's even that one time just a few days ago when Sakusa had a second cup of coffee prepared when Atsumu woke up and went into the kitchen. Sakusa- still sleep-soft and amenable- grabbed Atsumu's wrist when he reached for the cup and said, "It's still too hot. Wait a second."

Now that had been surprising to Atsumu, because Sakusa never touched him, like ever, and if he did it was by accident or one of those post-win highs when the players high-fived and Sakusa momentarily forgot his own aversion to other people.

If Atsumu thinks that moment in the kitchen had lodged itself firmly in his brain as a 'what the fuck' moment, this- this confession takes the cake. Atsumu thinks about it in the shower, while he gets dressed, while he goes on a run to clear his head. It doesn't help at all.

He thinks about it some more in his long, second shower after his run. He thinks about it while he makes himself lunch. He thinks about it when he glances down the hall and still sees Sakusa's door firmly shut. Maybe Sakusa had left during his run, but he doesn't think so.

As Atsumu thinks and thinks and thinks, his emotions range from surprise to confusion and then morph into anger. Who is Sakusa to drop this bomb on him? Who is Sakusa to storm out like a child afterwards? Who is Sakusa to flip Atsumu's whole perception of him upside down?

Who is Sakusa to make Atsumu replay every single interaction they've ever had since high school and reevaluate what all of those moments meant? As Atsumu sits on his bed and does just that, he thinks- no, a lot of those times were hatred. Or hatred adjacent.

They have never truly gotten along. They come together on the court beautifully, but Atsumu assumes that it's both of their competitiveness bringing out the best in them. Off the court, they bicker about everything. If Atsumu thinks one thing, Sakusa thinks the exact opposite.

If Atsumu likes to crank the AC up, Sakusa mutters curses under his breath as he turns on the heat instead. If Sakusa insists on everyone keeping their food labeled and on different shelves, Atsumu places his unlabeled containers on Sakusa's shelf just to fuck with him.

Atsumu is a twin- he's used to pushing. It's Sakusa's fault for always pushing back, which is exactly what Atsumu had been missing since moving out at eighteen. While it's frustrating when Sakusa fucks with him, he's excited when he can push back. It's kind of fun, he admits.

But what does it say about Sakusa if all of their nasty pushing and pulling has apparently manifested into Sakusa liking Atsumu? And worse, liking Atsumu enough that he felt the need to confess? What does it say about Atsumu that he can't stop fucking thinking about it?

Atsumu still hasn't made sense of it when dinner rolls around. Sakusa doesn't come out of his room to eat with them. "Is he sick, maybe?" Shouyou asks, sounding worried. Even if Sakusa is an avoidant sonuvabitch, he typically comes to "family dinner", named by Bokuto.

He normally eats his own prepared food after wiping down his place setting with a strong smelling disinfectant wipe, so lemony it practically ruins Atsumu's own appetite, but he still mostly always comes. Atsumu can't take the concern on Shouyou's face.

"Lemme bring the bastard some food," Atsumu says, getting up. "He'll starve to death by accident." He's that stubborn, Atsumu wants to add, but he really has no room to talk. Sakusa must be simmering in his own embarrassment, but Atsumu imagines he'd feel the same.

Atsumu carefully unwraps some onigiri that Sakusa had picked up from Onigiri Miya at some point in the week and places it on a clean plate, also making sure to add some umeboshi on the side that Sakusa had in a tupperware container. All perfectly labeled.

He then walks down the hall to Sakusa's room. He keeps his footsteps light, and when he stops in front of the door he presses his ear to it and hears some video presumably playing on Sakusa's phone. When he leans back and knocks, three quick raps, the noise cuts off.

"Hey," Atsumu presses close to the door to say, so the others in the dining room can't overhear. "You're freakin' Shouyou-kun out. I brought ya some food so either eat it in your room or come to dinner." There's no reply. Atsumu's sighs in irritation. "Are you five? Open up."

No reply. Atsumu closes his eyes briefly, wondering how the fuck he got here. When Sakusa first joined the team, Atsumu wouldn't have imagined that he would wait outside Sakusa's door holding food, pleading with him to eat. Atsumu wonders when he started caring.

He wonders when Sakusa started caring. He thinks about it, because of course he does, and he can't think of a single salient moment between them that must've been Sakusa's 'ah-hah' moment. Maybe those feelings were always there, buried underneath their biting remarks.

It's just- Atsumu has gotten used to Sakusa being around. He realizes it now, as Sakusa's absence at dinner seems noticeable. He sees Sakusa in the mornings, at practice, at games, in the evenings, all of the time- everywhere, always.

At first, Sakusa was like a fixture on the wall. Only noticeable when Atsumu wanted to mess with him. But now, it's like Sakusa has weaved himself into Atsumu's daily routine. Maybe you can't spend that much time with someone and continue to dislike them with the same vitriol.

Maybe Atsumu never truly disliked him, not really. He goes out of his way to be around Sakusa too, doesn't he? He pushes until Sakusa has no choice but to give him attention. Maybe Atsumu has always craved it; maybe Atsumu feels empty now that Sakusa isn't giving it to him.

Maybe Atsumu has always known that Sakusa is beautiful in a way that he tries to ignore. His assessing eyes, so cold that Atsumu feels a chill when Sakusa looks at him. His body stretching while he spikes, or his shoulders curving inward. His slender fingers adjusting his mask.

Atsumu feels something like a loss, now that he can't look. Atsumu has always looked his fill, unappreciative of what he was truly seeing. He was always around a lot of beautiful people in his line of work, so he didn't care at first. Now, he cares more than he knew he could.

Sakusa's beauty was easy to ignore when they were fighting. He could look, but not really notice that he was interested. However, now that Sakusa has flipped Atsumu's entire world view upside down, Atsumu is forced to confront that maybe he had been seeing things all wrong.

Maybe it's not just pushing and pulling, maybe it's something else too.

Maybe Sakusa feels the same way, fighting for that attention more than he would with anyone else, and has just been self-aware of it longer than Atsumu has. Maybe he understands Sakusa's displeasure with his confession; they don't like admitting that they've been wrong.

Atsumu sighs again. He leans his shoulder and head against the door. "You caught me off guard," Atsumu tries again, even quieter. He's not sure if Sakusa can even hear him. "I thought you were fucking with me." Atsumu winces at his own words. Still, he presses on.

"I mean, imagine if I came to you and said that. You'd probably throw up. I just- I didn't know." No reply. Atsumu closes his eyes. "But I want to. Know- I mean. 'Cause I'm kinda freaking out and having all of these crazy revelations and I need to know if you are too."

Finally, finally, Atsumu hears the rustling of Sakusa's thick, meticulously clean and white comforter and then heavy footsteps. He moves slightly back from the door just as Sakusa cracks it open. He just sees Sakusa's face, and his hard eyes.

"Don't do that," Sakusa mutters at him, voice low. "Don't say whatever stupid shit comes to mind because you're easily impressionable. That's-" Sakusa cuts himself off, looking mad. "I'd rather you just laughed in my face again." "First of all, I didn't laugh at you."

Sakusa looks angrier, and Atsumu meets him with his own glare. "I didn't, you asshole. And second, I'm not just sayin' what I'm sayin' because I think it's what you want to hear, or whatever. You know I'm not that fucking nice."

Sakusa's eyes drift briefly to the plate in Atsumu's hand and then back at his eyes. His eyes narrow, as if to say 'then why are you bringing me food?'. "This," Atsumu tries to explain, "is because you're being a huge baby right now. What, do I have to potty train you too?"

Sakusa's nose wrinkles in disgust, but he doesn't say anything. His smoldering eyes continue boring into Atsumu's. Atsumu takes another breath. "Look, I'm serious. I know I say a lot of shit just to mess with you, but I really have been thinkin' about it all day."

"Sorry if what I said causes your brain to fry from actual use," Sakusa says, ice cold. Despite the bitterness of Sakusa's tone, Atsumu smiles. Sakusa's expression goes blank, as if surprised. "I could do this all day, ya know. Talk to you," Atsumu says. "I'd never be bored. Maybe I'd be mad sometimes," Atsumu laughs, "but never bored. You just know all the right buttons to push for some reason." Sakusa's eyes trail over his face, in that quietly assessing way of his. It's so Sakusa that Atsumu actually feels his heart squeeze.

He wants Sakusa to keep looking, always. "You...do too," Sakusa says eventually, still looking slightly pained. "Maybe we're masochists, for wanting this." Atsumu smiles wider. "You want this? Like...you want me?" Sakusa rolls his eyes. "I'm not saying it again."

"You didn't even say it properly the first time." "Because you really would've laughed in my face, idiot." "How long?" Atsumu asks, ignoring that. Sakusa's eyes slide over Atsumu's shoulder. "I'm not having this conversation in the fucking hallway." "But you'll have it?"

Sakusa hesitates. Atsumu sees his mouth open and click back shut. "Oh, and you'll eat this too," Atsumu adds, holding the plate up. "Despite all my jokes about poisoning you with hand sanitizer, I don't actually want you to die. Or even starve."

It's not a remotely romantic thing to say, but Sakusa's eyes still flicker down to the plate and back up at Atsumu with a much softer expression. Maybe it's also this- Sakusa is the only person he can speak like this with, and he'll not only understand but push back perfectly.

"Did you practice saying that without gagging in the bathroom mirror while you spent hours in the shower today?" Atsumu gives him a cocky grin. "Aw, you're so obsessed with me you even monitor my shower time. What's next? Gonna make sure I jerk off right too?"

Sakusa rolls his eyes. "Gross. You wish." "Maybe I do," Atsumu says, surprising even himself. "You're unbelievable," Sakusa says quietly, but he opens the door wider and grabs the plate out of Atsumu's hands, their fingers brushing. Then, "Are you coming in to talk or what?"

Atsumu is filled again with the strange sort of feeling that's been building in him since Sakusa confessed; the feeling of being on the precipice of discovering something- something old that feels excitedly new, something achingly familiar that might be terrifyingly good.

Atsumu has never felt this way about anyone before, but he suddenly wants to discover everything that may come, both sharp and sweet. "Yeah, Omi-kun. I'm coming in."

#haikyuu #sakuatsu #skts #thread #atsumusbiceps #writing

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