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venenatd · 3 years

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just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader)

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different”

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand.

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good.

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade.

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh.

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”.

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier.

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was.

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw.

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise.

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.”

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?”

His lips are so close to your ear.

“You.”

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer.

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?”

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily.

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door.

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before.

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity?

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous.

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up.

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them.

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face.

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again.

“Fuck you,” you hiss.

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily.

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths.

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time.

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach.

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit.

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy.

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble.

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again.

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge.

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm.

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him.

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else.

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him.

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you.

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock.

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction.

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead.

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that.

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse.

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little.

“You’re getting tighter.”

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes’s and please’s.

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.”

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation.

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone.

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable.

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded.

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length.

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening.

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again.

“P - please, it’s s-so good.”

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.”

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible.

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again.

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that.

“You okay?”

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for.

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up.

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaegar x reader smut #attack on titan smut #pls be nice lmao

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years

Text

An Unfortunate Predicament

Warnings: tickling, fluff, maybe a little bit of reader crushing on a certain Asgardian

Word count: 2600

Honestly not sure where this came from, but I've dumped this silly idea out of my head and into this fic. Hopefully you find it amusing.

* * *

For the life of you, you don’t know how you ended up in this position.

Well, you do know how you got up here, at least. Tony had announced that he had a ropes course installed in the tower (for ‘additional training opportunities’ he insisted, although you all knew he just wanted an excuse to watch you all fall flat on your faces when you missed a step). Many of the Avengers were eager to try it out, especially Thor and Peter, who had giddily shoved their way to the front of the line to be the first to attempt the course.

You, on the other hand, had hung back from the group. You were afraid of heights, and while this ropes course wasn’t more than 6 or 7 feet off the ground, and there were soft rubbery mats underneath to break your fall should you slip, you couldn’t bring yourself to try it. Especially not in front of your teammates. No one knew about this little fear of yours, and you preferred to keep it that way to avoid being teased for being the only Avenger afraid of heights.

After a week or so, once the novelty had worn off for the rest of the team, you started to consider if maybe practicing on the course might help you to learn to get past this silly phobia. On a few occasions, you had casually made your way down to the gym where the ropes course was housed under the pretense of looking for someone, when really you were scoping it out to see if the room was unoccupied. Every time you tried, though, there was inevitably someone either practicing on the course or otherwise using some of the other gym equipment in the room. You much preferred that no one was there to witness you attempt it for the first time just in case you started to panic when you started to climb up that first rope ladder.

This morning, the other Avengers had disembarked on a mission before you had woken up for the day. This particular mission had no requirement for your talents, so you were able to stay behind and take a much-needed day to yourself. After lounging in bed for much of the morning, the notion crossed your mind that the gym would be completely and definitively empty for the afternoon.

And so, you made your way down to the gym and started slowly climbing up the ladder to the first platform. Once you reached the top and stood up, you looked down at the floor and felt your stomach drop just a bit. However, you steeled yourself and continued on across the swinging rope bridge in front of you. After a few obstacles, you had finally started to feel your fear start to ebb away as you became accustomed to the view. You started moving more quickly across the obstacles, now trying to see how fast you could get through the entire course.

Unfortunately, your rushing ended up being your downfall. You were crawling across a rope net to get to the next platform when suddenly you felt the net start to tip to the side. Normally, the purpose of the obstacle would have been to continue climbing upside down until you reached the other side. However, you had panicked at the sudden motion, stiffening as the net rolled over. Your leg slipped through one of the holes of the net, and somehow it twisted around your ankle enough to hold it in place while the rest of your body continued to flip over.

And now, here you were, hanging upside-down from this ropes course with your leg tangled in the net, blood rushing to your head as you tried to process what just happened. Your head was much closer to the ground now, at least, but it wasn’t quite close enough for you to reach the floor with your hands to try to gain leverage to untangle yourself. You tried to lift your upper body up in a sort of 180-degree sit-up to attempt to untangle your ankle from the net, but the rope was too taut for you to loosen it enough to pull your leg out. Frustrated, you relaxed your aching abdominal muscles and let yourself hang there, realizing with dread in the pit of your stomach that there was no one else in the compound to come help you escape.

Figuring you would have better luck getting yourself unhooked if you allowed yourself some time to rest, you let yourself just hang there and took a few deep breaths. Just as you were mustering up the strength to try again, a voice from the doorway caused you to jump in surprise.

“Well now. What an unfortunate predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”

No. Oh no. Literally anyone else could have walked in and you’d have felt some relief, that someone was going to help you get down from this trap. Why did it have to be Loki?

“Shut up,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest in an attempt to look annoyed despite your inverted position. “You could just help me down from here, you know.”

“I certainly could. But where would be the fun in that?” Loki strolled into the room, coming to a stop just a foot away from you. From this angle, you had to look down (or, rather, up) slightly to see his face, as your head hung at just about his shoulder level.

“What’s so fun about standing here and watching me hang upside-down?” you retorted. “Suppose I enjoy this?”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have just asked me to help you down, now would you?” Loki started to pace in a slow circle around you, forcing you to twist your neck and torso to be able to keep an eye on him. You knew better than to turn your back on the trickster by now. “Besides – if I recall, it was you who stole all of my books last week and hid them throughout the tower, hmm?”

You snickered at that. It was totally worth it to watch Loki storming around the tower, grumbling as he emptied drawers and crawled on the floor to look under furniture in hopes he would find his books. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t tried to prank you in return yet, but you had a feeling it was coming. Although, it seemed you had put yourself in just the position for him to exact his revenge without having to think of a prank.

“Oh yes, I’m sure you thought it was amusing then,” he growled, pacing back around in front of you and leaning down so his face was inches from yours as he glared at you. “You realize, I hope, that the others will not be back for at least another four hours?”

“What? I thought they were supposed to be home in an hour!” you exclaimed. Loki smirked.

“They are running a bit late. Ran into some minor complications during the mission. They should be leaving to head home in about an hour.”

You groaned at this revelation. You knew they were a three-hour plane ride away, and so if Loki was telling the truth, you would be dangling upside down for quite some time unless you convinced him to help you. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed your pride and started to plead.

“Loki… I’m sorry about your books, really. Please, could you help me get down?” you begged. His smirk only grew wider at this.

“You must be truly desperate, darling, to already be begging for me to help you,” he chuckled. You felt heat prickle in your cheeks, partially from embarrassment at having gotten yourself into this situation and partially from the unexpected thrill that rushed through your chest at the slow, smooth tone of his voice as he taunted you.

“If I admit it, will you finally help me get down?” you bartered, ready for this interaction to end so you could go hide in your room for the rest of the night in complete humiliation.

“Hmm. That certainly would help your case, but I’ll need a bit more than that,” he countered.

“Ugh, like what?” Loki thought for a moment, touching a finger to his chin.

“Admit that I am the superior prankster in the tower,” he demanded, “and that you never stood a chance against the all-mighty god of mischief. AND-“ he added, cutting you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “you have to say this to all of the Avengers when they return.”

“Ok, first of all, you know they’ll know you’re making me say it, so where’s the fun in it for you?” you quipped.

“I know. I also know how much embarrassment it will still cause you to have to say it out loud.” His smirk was practically wicked by this point.

“Alright, but suppose it does embarrass me that much - even if I agree to it, how do you know I won’t just go back on my word once you get me down?” you retorted.

“If you do, I will put you right back where I found you, and someone else will have to get you down,” he opposed. Your eyes widened, then narrowed indignantly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“We both know you know I would.”

“You are insufferable, you know that?” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Fine. I’ll do it. Just get me down.”

“A wise decision,” he declared. Loki stepped underneath the net and inspected the rope wrapped around your ankle. He reached up and tugged on it a bit to test how much give it would provide. “The rope is wound too tightly for me to unwind it,” he observed.

“Well, can’t you get me down some other way then?”

“I think if I lift you up enough that your weight isn’t holding the rope taut, you should be able to slip out of it,” he suggested. You nodded, willing to try anything at this point. He reached up and grabbed hold of your waist just above your hips, causing you to jerk involuntarily and let out a high-pitched squeak. You felt your stomach drop again, the same way it had when you’d first climbed up onto the ropes course, when you saw Loki’s expression morph from confusion to pure mischief.

“Wh-what are you giving me that look for?” you asked hesitantly, reaching up absentmindedly to pull your shirt down where a sliver of skin had been showing.

“Because I just learned something new about you, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to help you down just yet,” he explained, his tone ominous.

“Don’t… you… dare,” you growled.

“Darling, I don’t believe you’re in a position to be making threats,” he retorted, starting to pace around you again.

“Loki! Get back here where I can see yOU!” Your voice pitched up an octave as you felt him tweak your side. “I swear to god, Loki, I will hold you down and beat you senselehehehess!” You lost your composure as you felt ten slender fingers gently scratching at your sides just below your ribcage.

“You don’t sound very threatening, love,” Loki teased, working his torturous fingers up between your lower ribs. You couldn’t respond coherently anymore, batting at his hands and twisting around violently trying to escape his touch. “Maybe you should try again, but this time with a bit more malice in your tone.”

“I will kihihihill you!” you shrieked, uncontrollable giggles spilling from your mouth as his fingers traveled to your belly, his thumbs digging into your sides. Being upside-down, in addition to not being able to see his face with him standing behind you, made you feel incredibly exposed. You reached down and grasped both of his wrists, tugging as hard as you could to pull his hands away from your ticklish torso to no avail.

Loki thankfully paced back around in front of you, continuing to tickle you with one hand as he walked. You realized this was actually probably worse than when he was behind you because now you could see his amused expression, and you knew he could see the flustered flushing of your face. You tried your hardest to shoot him a menacing glare, which only succeeded in drawing a laugh from him as he latched both hands onto your upper ribs and continued to tickle you with renewed vigor.

“OK! OK! WAIHIHIT LOKI! I CAHAHAN’T!” you pleaded as he slipped his thumbs under your arms, his fingers wrapped around the back of your uppermost ribs and digging into your skin in the most agonizing way. You were thrashing violently now trying to evade his fingers, not noticing the rope looped around your ankle slipping.

The next thing you knew, your ankle slid out of the rope net above you, and you came crashing to the floor. Or, rather, you came crashing down onto Loki, who then crashed to the floor under the impact.

Relieved that at least he was no longer tickling you, you gasped for breath and pushed yourself up onto your hands. You heart skipped when you realized that your nose was practically touching his, but the shock caused your muscles to freeze. For a moment, Loki didn’t move either, looking straight into your eyes.

You finally regained your composure, deciding to play it off as if you’d found a way to beat him at his own game to hide the fact that your heart was pounding in your throat at the close contact. You grinned wickedly down at him.

“Looks like I got myself down, didn’t I?” you quipped. “Guess I don’t have to lie and say you’re the best prankster after all.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, which should have been your cue to get up, but before you realized it he had grabbed your arms and flipped you so he was now hovering over you. You looked up at him, bewildered, as he smirked evilly back at you.

“Oh darling, that was a mistake.” You jolted as his fingers once again made contact with your ribcage, unable to control the hysterical laughter bubbling from your chest as he dug his fingertips into every ticklish spot he could find. You kicked and scrambled to try to scoot away from him without success, his hands darting rapidly between your sides, belly, underarms, ribs, back to your belly…

“ALRIGHT! W-WAIT! S-STOP! I’LL SAY IT!” you begged, your muscles so weak from laughter now you could no longer fight back, lying there on the floor as he drove you into madness. At long last, he finally released you, moving away to kneel on the floor beside you. “Jeez, Loki… that was… that was evil,” you huffed, still breathless from his malicious attack.

“Maybe next time you’ll know not to mess with the god of mischief,” he warned, offering you a hand to help you sit up. “After all – now I know your weakness.” You blushed furiously, wrapping your arms subconsciously around your ribs as he deviously wiggled his fingers at you. Ready to finally go hide in your room, you picked yourself off the ground and started walking toward the door. “Don’t forget! I expect to see you in the common room when the others arrive home this evening!” he called after you. You turned and shot him one last glare before leaving the room.

You couldn’t make any promises that you’d actually show up. And if that meant he would come find you and torment you some more… well, you supposed you maybe wouldn’t mind.

Read part 2

#loki tickle #loki x reader #marvel tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fic #tickle fluff

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 3 years

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It’s almost opening day for the most important court in the land, the U.S. Supreme Court. While there might not be a marching band present to usher in the first day of the new term on Monday, there will surely be some fireworks this Supreme Court season.

This year we barely had time to miss the Supreme Court. Typically, justices sign our yearbooks in June with a perfunctory “HAGS!” (Have a Great Summer!) and disappear for months as they give well-paid speeches in far-off places. This year, they stuck around, busying themselves with many so-called shadow docket decisions. They allowed Texas’ restrictive abortion law to go into effect and gave a big thumbs down to President Joe Biden’s attempt to extend the federal eviction moratorium and to his effort to end former President Trump’s “Remain in Mexico” policy.

Now they return to their regularly scheduled programming. They’ve already set oral arguments in a number of key cases that could reshape our legal and political landscape and exacerbate society’s existing fault lines.

On Dec. 1, the court will hear arguments about the constitutionality of Mississippi’s law, which bans almost all abortions after 15 weeks of pregnancy. The law is at odds with current Supreme Court precedent, set almost 30 years ago in a case called Planned Parenthood v. Casey, in which the court upheld the “essential holding” of its landmark decision in 1973 in Roe v. Wade. The Casey court held that once a fetus is viable, states can ban abortions, but pre-viability, states can only implement restrictions that do not present an “undue burden” on a woman’s ability to obtain an abortion.

Because fetal viability typically begins at about 24 weeks of pregnancy, there seems to be no way to honestly square Mississippi’s law banning abortions at 15 weeks of pregnancy, with the Casey standard. Twenty-four weeks is more than 15 weeks, and a ban is more than an undue burden. By agreeing to review Mississippi’s abortion law, at least four members of the court have almost certainly signaled that they’re comfortable overturning Roe and Casey. That number is likely closer to six, the same number that voted to allow Texas’ abortion law to remain in effect.

On Nov. 3, the court will hear arguments in the second most controversial and consequential question facing justices this term: whether the state of New York can mandate that people who want to obtain a license to carry a concealed gun show good reason, such as self-defense.

The Supreme Court, much to the chagrin of some of its more conservative justices, has largely shied away from taking big Second Amendment cases since it struck down a District of Columbia law in 2008 that banned the carrying of unregistered handguns and barred the registration of handguns, but allowed the chief of police to issue one-year licenses for handguns. The D.C. law also required that people who legally own registered firearms keep them in a nonfunctional state (for instance by binding them with trigger locks) in the home. Justice Antonin Scalia, writing for a majority of the court, famously concluded that the Second Amendment includes an individual right to bear arms, as opposed to a right given only to the militia, and that this right includes the ability to own a functional gun in one’s home for self-defense.

The court’s decision in the gun case it will hear Nov. 3 will tell us how much power states have to restrict a person’s ability to carry a gun outside of the home. In addition to New York, California, Delaware, Hawaii, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey and Rhode Island also place restrictions on the carrying of concealed weapons outside the home. All of those laws could be on the chopping block.

The court will be addressing much more than abortion and gun control this term.

On Wednesday, the court will consider whether the government can prevent a prisoner at Guantánamo Bay from obtaining information in a suit against CIA contractors who tortured him. The legal issue in the case is whether the government can use the “state secrets” privilege to prevent the release of national security information. The court’s decision could affect other pending cases, such as the separate case of five men being charged in the U.S. Military Tribunal at Guantánamo Bay for aiding the men who perpetrated the Sept. 11 attacks.

A week later, on Oct. 13, the court will hear arguments in a case concerning Dzhozhar Tsarnaez, who, along with his brother, is one of the two Boston Marathon bombers. Tsarnaez’s death sentence was thrown out by an appeals court because the trial court failed to ask potential jurors about the media coverage they had consumed about the case and excluded evidence from the sentencing phase about his brother’s involvement in a separate murder case. The Supreme Court will determine if the death sentence should be reinstated.

November will be First Amendment month at the Supreme Court as justices hear one case addressing the freedom of religion and two dealing with the scope of the free speech clause. On the first of that month, the court will hear the case of death row inmate John Ramirez, who claims, in part, that he has a constitutionally protected right to have his Baptist pastor put his hands on him and pray out loud while he is put to death. Texas has thus far denied those requests. The previous cases to reach the court in this area address whether a death row inmate can have a spiritual advisor present in the execution chamber, not what actions that advisor can take once inside.

On Thursday the court agreed to hear a challenge filed by a Christian group, Camp Constitution, against the city of Boston. Camp Constitution wanted to use a City Hall flag pole to raise its flag, which bears a Latin cross. “What about the separation of church and state?” you ask. Well, Camp Constitution complains that Boston allows tons of other groups to use its flag poles, such as those celebrating gay pride and Juneteenth. Both lower courts to review the case ruled in favor of the city.

In a case regarding the free speech clause of the First Amendment, on Nov. 2, the court will consider the Houston Community College System’s Board of Trustees public censure of one of its members for things he said about the other board members. That member claimed the censure violated his First Amendment rights, a claim the federal district court dismissed, finding that the censure was no more than a “statement” of the board’s dissatisfaction. The court of appeals disagreed. The case asks more broadly whether a local elected body has the power to censure one of its members as a result of that member’s speech.

And there is another yet-to-be-scheduled case dealing with the free speech clause, this one addressing the ever-expanding problem of money and politics. When Texas Sen. Ted Cruz loaned money to his re-election campaign in 2018, he admits he did so to challenge a federal law that caps at $250,000 the amount of money candidates can raise post-election to repay their personal loans to the campaign. Cruz loaned his campaign $260,000 the day before the election and wants to be able to raise money after the election to pay back his full $260,000 loan. He says the law violates the First Amendment by burdening political speech without a sufficient reason. The government says the law is necessary to prevent corruption or the appearance of corruption that could occur when candidates fundraise after the election to help retire their personal debts to the campaign.

This is the Supreme Court’s first full term with its new list of players and a solid six-to-three conservative majority. Justice Amy Coney Barrett was sworn in a few weeks after last year’s term began.

Only fools make predictions, so here we go. Ten months from now, when the court's term ends, Roe and Casey will no longer be the law of the land. They will either be expressly or implicitly eviscerated. States will no longer possess the authority to restrict people's ability to carry concealed weapons outside the home, or that authority will be severely narrowed. Cruz, and his colleagues, will be able to raise as much money as they want after an election to repay their personal loans to their campaigns.

There are other consequential cases that the court will consider that could change our understanding of the contours of the First Amendment and the state secrets privilege. But if the only two cases the court heard all term were the abortion and gun control cases, we can already predict that thanks to at least five people in a country of almost 330 million, our world is about to look a lot different.

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ryanmeft · 2 years

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Movie Review: The Northman

Between video games, TV shows and the Thor movies, the Viking niche in pop culture is well and truly filled. Robert Eggers is the kind of filmmaker who likes to look for gaps in the zeitgeist we didn’t know were there and fill them for us. Unlike his previous films, the big question posed by The Northman doesn’t involve any story twist. It’s whether one of the most distinctive directors to emerge this decade can offer us anything new in an overstuffed genre.

The answer? Not much. The most shocking thing about Eggers’ latest is how straightforward it is. Young Amleth (Oscar Novak) is a Viking prince of an island kingdom, expected by his war-hungry father Aurvandill (Ethan Hawke) to succeed him. If you know anything about the year 895 or thereabouts in Europe, you know what they called kingdoms were more like mob territories where the king was whoever could take and hold a place. They changed hands often, and indeed, Aurvandill is swiftly dispatched by his ambitious brother Fjolnir(Claes Bang), who carries off his wife Gudrun (Nicole Kidman). Amleth escapes to the Rus, grows up to become Alexander Skarsgard, and joins a band of reavers while nurturing thoughts of revenge. Learning his uncle’s current whereabouts, he poses as a slave, where he meets Slavic sorceress Olga of the Birch Forest (Anya Taylor-Joy), and the two fall for each other instantly while plotting both vengeance and escape.

If you’ve seen any of the numerous bloody, quasi-historical revenge epics that became fairly commonplace in the aftermath of Gladiator, you’ve pretty much seen how this story unfolds, and Eggers isn’t offering any new ideas for the soup. He’s pulled down an A-list cast, and they get a really good scene or two; I especially liked Hawke howling and bounding about in imitation of a wolf while Willem Dafoe, playing both shaman and court jester, eggs him and the young Amleth on to draw out their warrior spirit. Skarsgard gets menacing down pretty well, considering the decidedly less fierce roles he usually gets. The problem is that it’s hard to draw pathos out of vikings, who had what you might call a fairly limited range of interests in life, and Skarsgard, Kidman, Hawke and Bangs aren’t called on to do much more than act tough,split skulls and growl at each other menacingly. Even Kidman’s big moment is so telegraphed that it lacks impact when it finally reaches us. This isn’t to say that the actors or the writing fail. It is just that Eggers asks relatively little in range out of his cast, and they put their all into emotionally restricted roles. They handle the job well, but if Taylor-Joy and Kidman are on a screen and you don’t feel especially invested in their characters, it’s hard not to feel an opportunity was missed.

What we have in place of an intriguing story is plenty of what Eggers does best: putting us in a historical time period and asking us to live there for a while. His haunting debut film The Witch was as close as a movie can get to putting us directly in the past. By restricting the geographic scope of the film almost entirely to a farm at the edge of a forest and giving the audience no real outlet to the rest of the world, he forced us to consider how actually living as a late 17th-century farmer in New England might feel, and that heightened the fear. He clearly is attempting something similar with The Northman, which is set in late 9th century Russia and Norway. There are few grand castles here and nothing that would be at home in a fairy tale. The days are dark and gloomy, the rivers narrow and dirty, the settlements tiny and made of wood with mud for streets. “Kings” rule in what today would not even be considered fit quarters for a very poor family, and the daily lives of people are a mixture of backbreaking toil just to have food to eat and constant fear that the tribe next door will come along to take even that away.

In this mud-caked milieu, there is an important distinction from other recent Danish fantasies: the Vikings are not heroes. Their main goal of any raid is to take as many slaves as possible; their secondary goal is decidedly less nice. They glory in the very thought of battle, thinking nothing of spilling the blood of anyone at any time, even their own, and they openly start wars just so they can fulfill their religious belief that one must die in battle to have paradise. The lives of others are less than nothing to them, and even for our hero, the only human life that really matters is his own and those of immediate importance or use to him. It’s a far cry from the “noble bandit” stereotype we’re accustomed to, though Eggers doesn’t push it quite as hard as history would demand, as he still wants to keep his heroes relatively root-for-able.

So, too, is his visual style intact. Grays, browns, reds and the dull silver of war metal are favored. We see grand shots of erupting volcanoes, and the bleak landscapes of the time have a baffling beauty of their own---the director can still derive splendour from ruin, a rare gift. Most impressive are the sequences where Amleth imagines his reward in Valhalla; these are more clearly fever dreams than the unreal bits of The Witch and the Lighthouse, unless of course we’re to believe that a real valkyrie rode the fields of medieval Europe.

Yet the one-note story is in danger of making us pay too much attention to how often Eggers has used some of these techniques. It’s understandable to leave the theatre feeling like he’s allowing his name to become too much like a brand. After two excellent films and one good one, it may be time for him to try some new tricks.

Verdict: Recommended

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

You can follow me on Twitter here, if you want more posts about film and video games and sometimes about manscaping:

All images are property of the people what own the movie.

#nicole kidman #willem dafoe #ethan hawke #anya taylor joy #the northman #movies #alexander skarsgard #claes bang #vikings #robert eggers

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buckyskorpion · 4 years

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Do Something Bad, Too - Part 5

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: It’s like every single Alpha on the planet won’t rest until they’ve confessed their eternal wish for you to mother their children, and it’s getting old. Luckily, that’s a problem Bucky might be able to fix.

Warnings: language, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of violence

A/N: sooooo..... lets not mention the last time i updated this fic was four years, and get excited that im finally updating!! woo!! i really hope this was worth the wait, im very anxious about letting you guys down. let me know what you honestly think! love u all, thank u for sticking with me

series masterlist | main masterlist | my ko-fi

You stay in Nat’s apartment in the Tower for the rest of your heat, which lasts an entire week. Nat comes and goes throughout that time to make sure you’re drinking enough water, to make you dinner or run you a bath, or sometimes just to keep you company when you’re capable of that. She doesn’t stay long, though, aware her presence just makes the unbearableness of going through heat even worse. She also doesn’t mention Bucky’s clothes or anything about that first day, which you’re immeasurably grateful for. You don’t think you could talk about it without crying.

To say you’re humiliated is an understatement. Mixed with that is all this guilt and shame and self-hatred for inflicting that situation on you and Bucky. Mostly for Bucky. He had made it so very clear he was only comfortable helping you with the scent thing, and even with that there were boundaries. You had blown through them all by showing up to his apartment, triggering both your instincts to do things you couldn’t control, and now he probably resented you enough to never want to see you again.

You don’t blame him. It doesn’t stop it from hurting so much, though.

You’ve well and truly fucked yourself now. Not only is it omega instincts driving you towards Bucky now, but also your own stupid, naive heart. You miss his giant hands and broad shoulders that block out the world for a second, narrowing your scope to just the two of you. You miss the way you can breathe around him, how the world doesn’t feel so scary and foreign to you when he’s by your side. It’s crazy because you weren’t even close, you weren’t even really friends, but now you never will be because you’re so goddamn stupid it’s actually astounding.

Nat’s plan had not worked. And this time, you couldn’t even blame her for this colossal backfire. This is all your handiwork.

You’re back in your office, returning to work once your fever died down and you could stand to be in the vicinity of other alphas without passing out. Maybe you’re tapping rather aggressively on your keyboard, and maybe all the techies on the floor can hear you sigh and groan in frustration every two seconds and are sending you strange looks through the glass. Whatever, you’re their boss, they can’t say anything. Besides, your boss has requested some rather strange security upgrades and you’re not sure if it’s within your job description to email Tony Stark and say what the fuck?

It turns out you don’t have to, because Tony Stark comes to you. It’s not often he takes part in the day to day workings of Stark Industries - that’s your job, after all. But he comes striding into your office eating an apple and wearing sunglasses during the middle of the day, and points a ringed finger at you.

“You’re back,” he says, and you find yourself glancing down at your baby-blue pantsuit just to make sure you are, in fact, back. Stark takes a very pointed breath through his nose and adds, “You smell terrible. This is great!”

“Great?” You can’t help but sound bitter. Your smell is hardly great to you. Even after sweating out your entire body-weight and taking more showers than is considered healthy, you still smell like Bucky. You can’t escape him - not your thoughts, not your heart, and certainly not the way your skin seems to emanate him like he’s crawled underneath and set up shop. It’s embarrassing and humiliating, because it’s not real, and just serves to remind you of the terrible mistake you’ve made. You hope beyond hope Stark doesn’t recognise the other alpha scent clinging to your pores.

“Yes, great. I need your help,” he says, sitting down in a chair opposite your desk. You glance at the specs you have open on your computer, the strange security upgrades he wants you to make to the Tower, and then back to Stark’s million-dollar smile. It’s unsettling. You feel a headache forming before he even opens his mouth.

“If this has anything to do with these emails-“

“Those can wait,” Stark says, waving a dismissive hand at your computer. He lobs his applecore into the bin beside your desk as if to punctuate his point, then says, “This is a request on behalf of the Avengers.”

“Um,” you say, rather eloquently. Avengers? What on earth could they want with you, unless- you groan, rolling your eyes to the ceiling. “Natasha.”

“She highly recommended your expertise,” Stark says, and that headache brewing in your temples blooms into a full-blown migraine. He stands, smooths out his slacks, and says without room for question, “Follow me.”

This is how you end up back in the residential floors of the Tower, much to your chagrin, which Stark seems to pick up on. The closer you get to Bucky’s floor the more fidgety you become, heart racing and skin turning clammy until you watch the numbers fly by and you leave him somewhere in the clouds above Manhattan. The elevator doors ding open to a floor that seems to go on forever, full of gym equipment and fancy simulation tech you figure the Avengers must use to train. You find Natasha’s red head on the sparring mats, tackling someone to the ground with her thighs, and glare daggers as you follow Stark into the room.

“She’s alive!” Natasha calls across the room, ignoring your death glare for a knowing smirk. Her voice echoes through the warehouse-style gym floor, drawing the attention of the others in the room. The Avengers, and all of a sudden you feel like an eighteen year old kid watching aliens attack New York on a grainy satellite TV in the desert again. This is like meeting celebrities on another level. Steve Rogers finishes wrapping his hands as he walks over to you and Stark, Sam Wilson beside him, and Natasha gives Clint Barton a hand to help him up from the mats.

“What have you roped me into now, Nat?” you ask, not bothering to hide your frustration. You’ve just about had it with her meddling, but you should’ve known it was a pipe dream to think she would stop.

“We know you’re very busy, we won’t take up much of your time,” Steve Rogers says, extending a hand and introducing himself like he needs to. Captain America needs no introduction.

“I know who you all are,” you say, giving them a nod. “And you’re right, I am busy. So why am I here?”

“You and Nat must get along like a house on fire,” Clint says, earning him an elbow in the gut from Nat herself. You grin, all sharp in the way Nat tells you looks scary in a hot way, and watch as he subtly shifts behind Nat as if to hide behind her smaller frame. It’s only then that you register the scents mingling between them, and realise that Clint Barton is Nat’s omega. She grins at you, beatific and serene, as if she can read your thoughts and knows exactly what you’ve just figured out.

“Let’s not hold (Y/n) up any longer,” Nat says, grinning in a way that always spells trouble for you. “She’s a woman in high demand.”

Stark leads them to what seems to be a large empty space in the training facility, but it’s soon filled with hologram projections from a tiny Starkpad he pulls from his pocket. You fall into step beside Nat, using your height advantage to glare down at her and convey the level to which you want to strangle her right now. She just loops her arm with yours and kisses you on the cheek, frustrating your attempts at intimidation before you can even begin. Bloody Russian spies, you grumble to yourself as you come a halt in front of the holograms.

You’re looking at building specs, that much is obvious. Why, though, is entirely lost on you. The structure is a tall hexagonal building reminding you of a panopticon, with security floors in the centre and what seem to be prison cells surrounding them. Details jump out from Stark’s hologram - security cameras, miniature guards patrolling the floors, thermally sealed doors and electromagnetic force-fields on the cells. It’s a prison, you surmise, and you’re starting to get a bad feeling as to why you’re here.

You turn to Nat and say, “I’m not going back in the field.”

She pats your arm with only a tiny bit of condescension and says, “I’m not asking you to.”

“You’re my Head of Security,” Stark says, then gestures to the hologram building, “If you can design impenetrable security systems, surely you can undo them.”

“You want me to help you break into this place?” you ask. The team all nod, and you look back at the intimidating, virtual-blue building in front of you. “It’s a fortress.”

“Yeah, they really upped the anti on security since I was in there,” Sam Wilson says, earning him a reproachful look from Steve. It does nothing to soothe the anxiety starting to thread through your chest. Failing the Avengers doesn’t seem like an option, but from where you’re standing, neither is breaking into this facility.

“I’ll need to know what it is first,” you say, “Then I can try and help you. Emphasis on try. I’m not a miracle worker.”

“It’s called the Raft,” Steve says, his face growing stony and set as he talks. “It’s a prison designed for enhanced persons by Secretary Ross. After Germany, I broke Sam, Scott, and Clint out. But Wanda-“

“We need to get her out of there,” Clint says. You pretend not to notice as beside you Nat discreetly takes his hand, rubbing her thumb across his bruised knuckles.

“Leave the search and rescue to us,” Stark says, and you watch him shift uncomfortably under some inscrutable looks Steve and Sam are giving him, “We just need your help on how to get into the joint.”

“Simple,” you breathe, but only Nat laughs. This seems like an impossible task, but from the look of everyone around you, failure isn’t an option. You’re going to have to make the impossible possible. It’s a good thing you’ve had some experience with that - in the military, trapped into sand-filled corners with no foreseeable way out, it really did seem like you were working miracles to stay alive out there. You swallow past a dry mouth and blink through desert-gunked eyes, say, “I’ll need that Starkpad, and some time.”

“You have forty-eight hours,” Stark says. The hologram disappears in a blink as he throws the Starkpad, no bigger than your palm, which you only just manage to catch. Stark clicks his fingers, as if an idea as just occurred to him, and says, “Oh, I almost forget to tell you! The Raft is underwater. Completely submerged, middle of the ocean, super top-secret. Fun, right?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Fun is not the word you you would use. Only forty-eight hours to break into the most secure facility in the country, if not the world? This day couldn’t possibly blindside you anymore.

As if the universe is conspiring against you, FRIDAY’s voice chimes in from overhead speakers to say, “Mr Stark, Sergeant Barnes is on his way to the gym floor.”

You feel your whole body lock up, heart seizing in your chest - Bucky? Here? You weren’t prepared to see him yet, or speak to him. What would you say? How could you apologise for one of the worst crimes you may have ever committed, and you’ve killed people? Natasha unloops her arm from yours, tries to soothe you with a hand on your back but it does nothing for the anxiety shooting sparks throughout your blood stream.

“How many times have I got to tell that illiterate Soviet popsicle, he’s not on the fucking team,” Stark grumbles, storming towards the elevators with a scowl. Steve clenches his fists, glaring after Stark but Sam holds him back. He mutters something only Steve can hear which makes him close his eyes and exhale sharp through his nose - frustrated, but calming by the nanosecond.

It’s a shame nobody thought to do the same for you.

“What did you just call him?” you say, ignoring Natasha’s warning murmur of your name as you follow after Stark. Maybe you still have some residually elevated hormones from your heat, or you really are just a lovesick idiot who can’t control her temper, but whatever it is has you absolutely incensed. Stark stops dead, clearly caught off guard by the venom in your voice, and spins on his heel to stare at you incredulously.

“Excuse me?” he says, blinking owlishly at you as you lean up into his space. You’re aware you’re overstepping the boss/employee line, but you can’t help yourself. The rage is brewing, and with each laboured breath Bucky’s scent grows stronger and stronger until it’s all you can smell. It settles over your skin like armour, and the urge to protect that hold on you, to protect him, is beyond your control - it’s primal.

“Don’t talk about him like that, ever,” you snarl, watching with satisfaction as Stark’s eyes turn round and wide.

He glances behind you towards his friends and says, “Are we sure she isn’t an alpha? Sheesh.”

“Tony,” Natasha warns, but it’s too late. You use the palm of your hand to slam into Stark’s solar plexus. You kick out his kneecap and he drops on one knee, wheezing and gasping for air. It all happens so fast you can’t even think about the repercussions of assaulting your boss, let alone what’s driven you to do it in the first place.

“I don’t need to be an alpha to kick your ass,” you hiss, glaring down at Stark who looks up at you like you have, in fact, lost your mind.

At that moment, the elevator dings and reveals Bucky practically seething behind the elevator doors. He storms in, larger than life - in the week or so it’s been since you’ve seen him, you’ve somehow forgotten how physically intimidating he actually is. You immediately step back from Stark’s kneeling figure, feeling the strange need to hide your hands behind your back like a kid caught with the cookie jar. Bucky glances wildly between you, Stark on the ground, and the ring of Avengers in different states of attempting to intervene. He heaves ragged breaths and is emitting a scent that threatens to take you to your knees, too. Authoritative, powerful, protective.

That submissive, animalistic side of you makes you really hate being an omega sometimes.

“Why is she here?” Bucky asks someone behind you, probably Natasha. He swings his, frankly, frightening gaze to Stark and demands with just as much venom as you had, “What did you do to her.”

“Jesus Christ, nothing!” Stark wheezes, clutching at the spot on his chest you’ve definitely bruised. He points an accusing finger at you and cries, “She hit me!”

“I’m so sorry,” you say, feeling your hands start to shake where you clutch them behind your back. You look to Bucky like maybe he can explain, which makes you sick to your stomach because he’s not yours to look towards. Now, more than ever, that is abundantly clear. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do!” Natasha pipes up behind you, helpful as ever. Bucky glares at her for you this time, releasing you of his burning-hot stare. His gaze has the power to paralyse you, and you need to get away from him, this, all of it - right now. You don’t get a chance to, however, before Natasha once again sticks her foot in it and says, “She was defending your honour, James.”

“Yeah, and I’ve no idea why. One quick google search should tell you he doesn’t need any-“

It takes you a second to realise the snarling, growling sound echoing through the gym is coming from you. Your face burns as you roll your lips together, cutting the sound off completely. For your entire life you’ve been headstrong and confident, but this whole experience with Bucky from the very first day you met him has shaken your entire self-perception. Everything you’ve known has been turned upside down - it was easy when all alphas were assholes, and you were one omega they couldn’t fuck with. Now, you stare down at your shoes and refuse to look in Bucky’s direction because he’s affected you so much you can’t even control yourself anymore. The worst part is that it’s entirely your own doing, because Bucky made it very clear you aren’t the one he wants, so everything you’re doing right now is just incredibly humiliating.

“(Y/n)?” Bucky’s voice makes you shudder. Looking at him would surely make you burst into flames, from embarrassment of the last time you saw him which you can’t even think about, or from the shame of pathetically defending a man who doesn’t want anything to do with you. He doesn’t even want you here, storming up to ask why you’re in his home in the first place.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, giving Bucky a wide berth as you head for the elevators. You can’t get there fast enough, practically sprinting to press the close-door button as fast as you can.

“Wait-“

And then, the absolute worst thing happens. You almost crush the Starkpad still in your hand from clenching your fist so hard - you have to, in order to keep your hands by your sides and not in Bucky’s personal space. Because just as the doors are about to slide closed, he slips in between them and FRIDAY seals you both in. The elevator fills with Bucky Bucky Bucky, just like your heat-addled brain has been chanting at you since you stumbled into his apartment a week ago.

Bucky stares at you wide-eyed, and you stare back just the same. This could possibly be your worst nightmare come to life, especially when the elevator screeches to a halt and FRIDAY’s dulcet tones hammer your fate home.

“I appear to be having some technical difficulties,” FRIDAY says, sounding confused if an AI can sound like anything. “I’m so sorry, I’m trying to fix this. It seems someone is manually overriding my control of the elevator.”

“Nat,” you groan, in unison with Bucky. So that’s it. You’re stuck in an elevator with Bucky and are being forced to face the music, by the powers that be. The powers being Natasha, a no good meddler who is going to be in a world of pain when you get out of here. Alpha be damned.

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Winner Takes All

Drum roll please....🥁.... I'm very happy to present to you: the return of Gamer Jisoo and her infamous Pikachu hat. I know I know, very exciting.

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4,479

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff Galore, A Few Curse Words

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: First off I'd like to thank you guys for the love on my other gaming fic; seeing you enjoy my work really encourages me. With that being said, I should note that I don't know much about gaming conventions -- I apologize if I get some details wrong in this writing. I hope you enjoy it regardless. Happy reading!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Lisa, I’m scared! What if she tackles me? You know how she can get when she’s excited…”

The throaty chuckle that leaves the maknae works to calm you down, and you find yourself smiling despite the nerves. “The girls and I will be there to keep you safe, don’t worry. Jisoo-monster can’t hurt you.”

You shake your head as you grab the tickets, stuffing them in your pocket and mentally preparing yourself for the surprise. Lisa takes your hand and drags you out the door in a rush, her happiness plain to see.

~~~

The sounds of your foot falls against the linoleum work in tandem with the beating of your heart, and you do your best to conceal your grin. The last thing you want to do is give the plan away at the last second.

Upon opening the door, you find the other 3 girls sprawled out on the floor in various positions, bodies exhausted from dance practice. So much for protecting you.

“Where were you guys? We were starting to get worried.”

When you take too long to reply, Jennie raises up onto her elbows, narrowing her eyes. “Y/N…”

Shit. You’re toast. The girls’ eyes search the two of you quizzically while your brain goes into overdrive in an attempt to find a believable excuse. Everyone knows you’re a bad liar, and you’ve just been caught in the act.

“LisawashelpingmewithasurpriseforJisoo.”

The words leave your lips in a rush, but your girlfriend doesn’t miss her name being thrown in there at the end. Her eyes dart up to yours, and she perks up.

“OYE! What was that?”

Releasing a sigh, you repeat yourself. “Lisa was helping me with a surprise for you.”

Jisoo’s stupid smirk from across the room makes you giggle, and you roll your eyes. She stands up and walks over, wrapping her arms around you.

"A surprise, huh?" She asks cutely, her eyes shining even brighter than usual as she raises her eyebrows repeatedly like a dork. Both of your smiles widen as you nod at her, allowing your hands to run through her mussed hair. Seeing her so excited makes everything worth it, and you know you'd spend every dollar to your name in order to keep her as happy as this; she deserves nothing less.

As she leans in to press a kiss against your lips, her hands work their way down to your hips, resting there. Too caught up in the moment, you fail to realize that her fingers have hooked their way into your pockets.

Her lips vibrate against yours as she lets out a confused mumble, her fingertips brushing over the foreign material. She gets the jump on you, quickly snatching the tickets from your jeans, and you watch her face as she reads them.

Every moment that passes feels like an eternity, the air void of any sound as you and the girls wait to see her reaction. She's still just staring at them, running a finger across the material as she rereads the info printed there. A pang of insecurity runs through you at her continuous silence, and you can't help but speak up.

"I know they're not the premium access ones, but we still get to--"

"They're absolutely perfect, Y/N. I don't know what to say." Her voice is gentle and quiet, and your heart softens at how precious she looks right now.

"You didn't have to do all of this for me." She says, unbelieving that she deserves such a gift. Determined to remind her of how much she means to you, you cup her cheek and coax her into looking into your eyes.

"After everything you do for me, this is the least I could do, baby. You're worth every bit of it and then some. I can't wait to take you."

She pulls you up against her again, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as she whispers words of gratitude and praise into your ear.

A minute later she pulls away to give everyone in the room a warning.

"Prepare yourselves -- incoming scream in 3...2...1…"

Jennie, Lisa, and Rosé all scramble to the farthest corner of the room, tripping and sliding the entire way while you just cover your ears and laugh. They look like characters out of an episode of Scooby Doo.

"AHHHH I love them!" She suddenly shouts, throwing her hands up into the air triumphantly as she does a little happy dance with the tickets. Her joy is contagious, and soon the rest of you are all bouncing around with her in celebration.

-----

"Ready, my love?"

Upon poking your head into Jisoo's room, you find her sitting at her vanity, smoothing out her hair before she puts on her signature Pikachu hat.

"Just a minute." She responds, sending you a soft smile through the mirror. You lean against the door frame to admire her until she's done, studying how elegant she looks while doing even the simplest thing. How you managed to get so lucky is beyond you, but you thank your lucky stars for her every day.

Once she's finished, she turns around in her chair to get a good look at you. A light pattern of blush rises to her cheeks at the way you're looking at her, head over heels and hopelessly devoted. A grin tugs at her lips as she approaches you, dusting off your shoulders and fixing your shirt just like a married couple would.

"I'm so in love with you."

Jisoo's heart speeds up at your words, still getting just as giddy as it did the first time you confessed to her. She bats her eyelashes and looks at you as if you hold the key to the universe.

"No way! Me too; I'm pretty great, aren't I?" She plays, making you roll your eyes and laugh. Of course she has to mess with you in the middle of a serious moment.

"I'm kidding. I love you more and more every day, Y/N." She says, taking your hands within her own as she loops them around her waist. Her eyes meet yours again, and she leans in to kiss your cheek.

"Now come on or we'll be late. I can't wait to school you!" She says, sticking her tongue out at you.

"Oh you are so going down. Just don't cry when I beat you." You retort, mocking her as you pout and make your lip tremble.

She playfully pushes you out the door, cackling as you almost fall. You say goodbye to the girls, making sure to give them all big hugs before leaving the dorm.

----

The convention center is bigger than you had ever imagined it'd be. Past the security line at the entrance, the space opens up immensely with two large hallways sprawling off on either side of the main performance room. High ceilings tower overhead, their support beams decorated with various posters and guides. Some staff members sit at a long line of tables to greet guests and offer information about the scheduled events.

"Good afternoon, ladies. How're you doing today?" One of them asks as you approach.

"Good, thank you. And you?" Jisoo says, smiling excitedly.

"I'm doing just fine. Is there anything I can help you with?" The woman is kind; you like her.

"Do you by chance have a map?" You inquire.

She nods, reaching underneath the table to fish the complimentary guide out of one of the boxes.

"Here you go."

"Thank you very much. I think this is all we need; have a great day!" You cheerily reply, bowing your head to show gratitude.

"You're welcome. Come back if you have any more questions; we hope you two enjoy your experience with us!" She sends you one last smile as you step out of line and allow the next guest to take your place.

After scanning your eyes across the busy area, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all that's going on, you spot some tables near the large front windows of one of the expo halls.

You direct Jisoo's attention to them, and you swiftly make your way over there.

"Be cool -- I snuck us in some snacks because everything here is overpriced as hell."

You whisper to her, stealing a glance around the two of you before opening your coat like some sort of drug dealer. She lets out a little giggle as she eyes the assortment of candies and food you brought, saying: "You smart."

"Alright, let's plan out our route."

She nods in agreement, pulling a chair up next to yours so you both can look at the map.

Various fandoms have booths and rooms set up throughout the building -- everything from movies and tv shows, to any video game you can think of. Because of the scope of experiences offered, the tickets weren't easy to come by: you had to pay a pretty penny to even get the "cheap" option. Nevertheless, that's the last thing on your mind as you notice how happy Jisoo is right now. Her eyes dart across the paper, taking in all of the different sections and committing them to memory.

"I heard that the Harry Potter wing has butterbeer…" you start, nudging her shoulder with a smile.

She lights up at this, quickly deciding that you should start your trip there. "Okay, let's begin with it. Then we can check out some of the other movie franchises in that hall, and come over to the video games after."

You glance down at your phone to check the time before adding, "That'll work out perfectly. Overwatch and PUBG are having major tournaments later, so we'll be there in time."

She stands up to snatch a pen from one of the nearby help stands, and returns to her seat soon after. A scribbling noise can be heard as she circles the different places you want to go, adding stars beside the ones you guys are most excited for.

"Done!" She declares, placing the cap back on the pen and setting it to the side.

"Lead the way, pretty girl." You purr, grinning at the way her eyes turn into those famous little crescents as she smiles. She slips her hand into yours, interlocking your fingers as the two of you begin your journey.

----

"Y/N IT'S SO ADORABLE!" She yells, pointing to one of the Animal Crossing plushies that adorns the table in front of you. You push the brim of your newly-purchased Star Wars hat out of the way so you can get a better look at what she's talking about.

"Awww." You coo, reaching into your pocket to grab your wallet without hesitation. After buying it for her, you have her stand by one of the latest posters so you can have a mini photoshoot.

"You're so beautiful."

She loses focus on posing for the camera now, her eyes shifting from the lens to your own. You nearly melt from the look of pure adoration she's sending you, and she takes that as her opportunity to compliment you back.

"And you're the cutest thing ever." You hide behind your hands, shielding your blushing cheeks from further scrutiny.

"Stop it." You command, feeling her arms snake around your waist as she approaches you.

"Never," she starts, pulling your hands away so she can pepper kisses across your face. "I'll spend every day reminding you how precious you are."

"Ya know, my heart really can't take all of this love. I'm surprised it hasn't burst yet."

"Well it'll just have to get used to it." She declares, nodding curtly with a final look of determination taking over her features.

"I'm in love with a dork, everyone." You say to an imaginary audience, taking a step back as you motion to Jisoo. She slaps your shoulder playfully before dragging you to the next booth.

---

For the past 2 and half hours, the two of you have hit up just about every spot you intended to. You've accumulated bagfuls of bracelets, necklaces, shirts, and other memorabilia from nearly every shop you visited, and the thought makes you happy. Jisoo can decorate the dorm with her figurines and merch, and she'll be reminded of today every time she sees them.

"The big Overwatch match is about to start, so we can check it out until the PUBG one begins, if you want."

"Okay, but can you help me put this necklace on before we go?"

You nod in affirmation, taking her over to a nearby bench to set your things down and help her. She scoots up next to you and pulls her hair to the side as you fasten the small clip behind her neck. The piece matches yours, and you grin as her fingers come up to toy with the material.

She spins around to face you as she expresses her thanks, quickly moving on to rant about the tournaments. She giggles eagerly, mind completely wrapped up with thoughts of the games as she gushes about the things she's looking forward to.

You're doing your best -- honestly, you really are -- but Jisoo's lips look so kissable right now that you can't help but lose focus. They purse and pout as she rambles on, and you do your best not to stare.

You fail miserably, though -- after finding that your eyes have been nearly glued to her lips for the past 5 minutes, your gaze always dropping back down to those heart shaped pillows, Jisoo smirks. The sight makes you weak in the knees but you try not to show it.

"Awww, does somebody want a kiss?" She teases, making kissy noises at you while you blush and look away.

"Yeah, and what about it?" You challenge, turning back to her.

Content with how much she's teased you (for now), she rests a hand on the back of your neck as she draws you in closer to her body. Her other hand rests on your thigh, rubbing small circles onto the material of your pants. The moment is innocent enough at first, but the combination of her soft lips against yours and her ministrations on your leg soon makes your blood pressure rise.

Feeling the stares of other guests passing by, you decide to pull away. She chases your lips, though, pressing one more peck to them before looking into your eyes.

Your pupils are blown wide; your lips a little darker now, and Jisoo pats herself on the back. You're artwork to her, and she loves to see what she's capable of doing to you.

"If you keep looking at me like that then we’re gonna miss a big portion of this match.” You say lowly, just loud enough for her to hear. Her eyebrows raise in surprise at what your words imply, and her lips settle in their famous heart pose.

"Come on then, let's go inside." She says, tugging you up along with her. You guys will have plenty of time for that, later; for now, the most important thing is the event.

-------

Upon entering the spacious room, your ears are filled with theme music being played over the speakers. Chatter from fellow fans can be heard as well, and you take a moment to look around.

Countless rows of chairs stretch out in front of you, all neatly lined up towards the large stage across the room. A vast majority of them are already taken, but you happen to spot 2 empty ones in what appears to be the 4th row.

"Come on, let's grab those seats." You say, pulling her from her geeked-out stupor. She continues to gape at the layout of the room as you lead her to the chairs, her eyes wide in wonder. Large projectors on either side of the stage take turns displaying pictures of the starting players from both teams. Multicolored lights also shine at various points throughout the room, moving about in predetermined patterns and motions as they cycle.

Within 10 minutes, the elite players make their entrance, sending the room wild. Introductions are made, and they all take their seats at the different computers lined up on stage.

"How's everyone doing?" The MC's strong voice booms into the microphone, echoing loudly across the performance hall. The crowd shouts its response and you laugh at how loud Jisoo bellows out her own.

"We have an amazing set for you here tonight. Teams from across the world have flown in to compete for the 150,000 dollar cash prize, as well as the title of Overwatch league champions!"

The teams clap along at this, some pumping themselves up for the match while others try to appear cocky and unaffected.

"Our first teams, hailing from the US and Australia, are beyond excited to be here. Let's give them a hand!" He steps back to allow the cameras to get the best possible view of the gamers, and the footage is cast onto big banners hanging from the ceiling. Now everyone, regardless of how far back they're sitting, are able to see them well.

After the MC interacts with the crowd a little more and some of the players speak to their supporters, the match begins.

Jisoo is never very far from you, always close enough to point out certain things that she notices and comment on their techniques. She's like a sponge, soaking in the different ways to improve her own skills. As much as you love video games yourself, it's hard to pay attention to the game when she looks so unbelievably happy.

Many rounds later, after the winners are announced, you cross your fingers and take a deep breath. There's one final thing that you didn't tell Jisoo about earlier...

"Now, it's time for what you've all been waiting for! We'll be selecting 3 audience members to join us on stage and play against one another. Let's see who wants a spot!"

The MC shouts cheerily with that million dollar smile plastered onto his face. It's easy to see that he loves his job, and you've enjoyed watching him interact with everyone tonight.

The large crowd erupts at this and you have to fight to contain your knowing smile. You really have a knack for surprises.

"Jisoo, baby, stand over here. I think you'll be able to get their attention better."

A subtle nod passes between you and the event organizer you met with earlier, and he says something into his headset. Thankfully Jisoo hadn't questioned why your previous "bathroom break" took 10 minutes, and you were able to make an arrangement with the staff.

"Pick me!"

"OVER HERE!"

"I can beat 'em!"

Various shouts and whistles sound out around the venue, all the hopeful candidates vying for the MC's attention. He leans down to listen to his assistant when she taps on his shoulder, informing him of your plan. With a smile slowly spreading across his lips, he looks in your direction and his eyes lock with yours. "Alright, everyone. Who thinks they've got what it takes?" He asks, walking down the stage stairs until he's face to face with the sizable audience. The cameras track his every move as he slowly walks up the large center aisle, some people clapping and reaching to high five him. "The three people I select will compete in a free-for-all for first place. The winner gets 200 dollars and a t-shirt signed by our league champions." His announcement spurs the crowd on even more, somehow, and they cheer at such a great prize. "You, with the Call of Duty shirt!" He calls into the mic, pointing to a teenage boy who looks like he's about to pass out from being noticed. He joins the MC, and together they make their slow voyage towards the back of the room.

"You, miss, with the Smite hat!" The young woman celebrates with her friend, and you smile as you watch them do a special handshake on the jumbo screen.

Now, with two enthusiastic players in tow, the MC ambles his way back up to the front. He tries not to make it obvious that he already knows who the final pick is, and thankfully he's a skilled actor. He knows just how to keep the crowd excited and make them think they still stand a chance.

"Yes, yes, I see that you're all eager to show your talents. But earning this final spot will take some convincing. Quick, everyone strike an epic player pose!"

Collective shuffling from the audience sounds out in waves as people scoot their chairs out of the way to make room for their stances. Jisoo, however, takes a different approach: with a steadying hand on your shoulder, she places one foot on each of your seats and stands proudly. One of her hands sits on her hip while the other rests an invisible gun on her shoulder. She glances at the MC with a raised brow and steely look in her eye.

Damn, she's good. After seeing how well she's doing right now, you doubt that she even needed your help in the first place. That makes you feel a little better about rigging the results, so it's a true win-win.

"Pikachu hat, it's your time to shine!" He laughs, motioning for her to come over. In an instant, her previously cool demeanor crumbles and she's left looking like a giddy little girl. She gives you a sweet hug before walking over to the trio.

-----

After introducing themselves to the room, the 3 hopefuls all sit down next to each other. You can see them eyeing the winners that have gathered around to cheer them on, more star struck than competitive in that moment. Well, at least the other two are: after allowing herself a minute to geek out, Gamer Jisoo™️ takes over and a serious aura befalls your girlfriend. She cracks her knuckles before getting comfortable in her seat, and she steals a glance at you. Her cheek tugs up ever so slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips.

You make a heart with your hands and blow her a kiss, and she winks at you in return.

"Let's give them some encouragement!"

The crowd sounds off once more, and the three of them wish each other luck.

It's not a new discovery that your girlfriend is gorgeous, but something about how focused she is is so attractive. She's already taken down at least 5 other players, completely wiping the floor with them while barely batting an eye. Within a few more minutes, only Jisoo and Amelia, the other female audience member, remain.

"It's neck and neck as our last two competitors face off in the final stretch of the game."

The MC looks genuinely invested following his announcement, and you can almost see the inner 5 year old in him popping out. That's something that you love so much about video games: they can really bring the inner child out of anyone and distract them from life's stressors.

Jisoo's tongue darts out of her mouth, tracing over her lips in concentration as she considers her next move. You can practically see the wheels turning as her eyes dance across the screen, watching the movements of her enemy with the utmost focus.

Poor Amelia seems to be sweating buckets beside Jisoo; the pressure must really be getting to her. She looks intimidated, but she doesn't back down from the challenge.

And then, it stops. Jisoo fires one final, calculated shot, taking her opponent down within a second.

In what feels like slow motion, your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead in surprise and you stand up with a shout. You raise your arms above your head, screaming her name as you celebrate and cheer. You're the first thing she looks to once she realizes she's won, and that simple fact makes your heart grow 10 sizes. She smiles adorably as she observes you, grinning even deeper as confetti shoots out of the canons and onto the stage. She raises her head to watch it flutter down, shimmering in the lights as it rides the swirling air currents.

She's proud of herself, and so are you.

The same event organizer from before approaches you, informing you that you have the all-clear to go greet Jisoo on stage. And that you do: you race towards the stairs, practically flying up them and into her waiting arms. You pick her up and spin her around, getting lost in the feeling of her giggles vibrating against you.

"You did amazing, baby." You say, taking note of how the curve of her jaw is highlighted by the stage lights.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything. Today has been amazing."

The MC grins at you approvingly, happy to see you guys so ecstatic. Ever the altruist, Jisoo makes sure to go shake hands with her opponents and raise their spirits before coming back to talk to the crowd.

Once the man has her attention again, he says, "Congratulations, Jisoo. How does it feel to win?"

"It feels great! I have to thank my beautiful girlfriend, though; she's the reason we're even here today." She says humbly, reaching over to squish your cheek.

A chorus of "ooh's" and "ahhh's" leaves the crowd, all of them gushing at how cute the two of you are. You spot yourself on the jumbo screen and blush with embarrassment.

His assistant returns with the cash and shirt promised to the winner, and she holds it up for the cameras. The fresh signatures gleam in the light, some of them written with glitter markers while others are in traditional sharpie.

"Here you go! Enjoy!" He cheers again, motioning for the audience to join him. Everyone does, and Jisoo clutches the material close to her chest triumphantly. The two of you watch everyone send their praise, and she rests her head on your shoulder to fully soak in the moment.

You eventually exit the stage, waving to all of them as you take your leave.

With the event now over, you head back to your seat to gather up your belongings and head to the PUBG panel.

"I love you." She says, causing you to pause your movements and look up at her.

"I love you more." You tease, pulling her in close as you plant a kiss to her temple. She hooks an arm around your neck once you finish grabbing the bags, walking out into the expo hall again.

"So, since you're rich now, can we go to the arcade on the second floor?"

"Um, duh. Next mission: Beat Y/N. PUBG can wait."

You grin cheekily at her confidence before pulling out of her embrace.

"Race you there!" You shout, laughing as you take off towards the elevator, giving yourself a major head start.

"Cheater!" She yells, giggling as she chases after you.

#jisoo kim #jisoo #blackpink #blackpink imagines #blackpink oneshot #blackpink scenarios #blackpink x reader #kim jisoo x fem reader #kim jisoo #jisoo x fem reader #video games #gamer jisoo #jisoo turtle rabbit kim #blackpink fluff #let-them-read-fics #park chaeyoung #jennie kim #lalisa manoban

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moonlitceleste · 4 years

Text

No Time to Die (Villain!Mari)

A/N: This is a songfic based on No Time to Die by Billie Eilish. I literally listened to this every day of the month and another six hours on repeat while writing this. It’s a miracle I’m not sick of it yet, but it’s a very timeless song. I seriously recommend listening to it to set the mood!

I should've known I'd leave alone Just goes to show That the blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

Marinette hadn’t meant to become a villain. Some might consider her an antihero, but her methods were much too ruthless for that. She wasn’t always like this—wasn’t always vicious and cruel. But her life was a tragedy, and there was no hope of ever making it out unsullied. She had seen too much, gone through too much for someone her age. All life ever did was take, take, take, and screw her over time and time again.

There was once a time where things were simpler, when she would have preached justice and righteousness above all. Those times were long gone.

It was her own sense of selflessness that led to her downfall. Marinette was once thought too pure to be corrupted, but power could corrupt anyone. Not even she could contest against the forces of the universe.

Perhaps what transpired had only unleashed something that was in her all along—a dark side she could no longer control. A thirst for justice, more merciless and ruthless than anything she had felt before. But it was the price she had to pay in order to keep balance within the world. When it was time to do what had to be done, the darkness inside her took over. It made her a villain.

Maybe what she just found out was inevitable, then. Marinette knew she shouldn’t have let her guard down, but a naïve part told her maybe things would be different. Maybe he would be different. She guessed she was wrong about that.

She wanted to feel anger at the injustice, at the fact that someone she once trusted had deceived her yet again—and she did. But it was overshadowed by agony, because maybe she deserved it. Maybe this was karma for all the blood she had spilled. The universe must maintain balance, after all.

Marinette gave one last lingering glance at the picture in her hands before placing it in her purse.

She left the apartment alone.

We were a pair But I saw you there Too much to bear You were my life But life is far away from fair

“Tim!”

Marinette shrieked as the black-haired boy chased her around her apartment, weaving around the moving boxes she had never bothered to throw out. Her eyes flitted around, trying to decide the best course of action. There! She swerved right, hoping to throw him off, but she had taken too long to decide.

The air left her lungs as a body tackled her. “Oof!” she exclaimed, unprepared for the force. Gravity took over and her body fell forward, but a pair of arms caught her from behind. Tim set her upright before wrapping his arms around her waist like a hug, trapping her body against his.

“Give me the phone.”

She panted, trying to catch her breath before responding. Her chest heaved from running for so long. Normally she would have been able to hold out for longer, but the business she attended to the day before was especially taxing.

“No,” Marinette said, laughing breathlessly.

She resisted the urge to turn around and look at him, which would have been difficult anyways considering their height difference.

“I guess I’ll just have to take it from you then.”

She had a grand total of one second to register his words before he attacked. His fingers jabbed at her sides, prompting shrieks and laughter.

“St-stop it,” she gasped.

Tim smirked, an expression that wasn’t common on his face but beautiful nonetheless.

“Not until you surrender.”

His tickle assault continued for as long as Marinette could hold out (which wasn’t long).

“I yield!” she squawked, wanting the sensation to end as soon as possible.

“Do you?” he asked.

Marinette’s breath hitched as she suddenly realized how close he was.

His dark hair brushed her forehead, and she could count every lash framing his steel blue eyes. His normally porcelain skin was tinted a rosy hue, cheeks flushed from exhaustion. Or maybe from their proximity.

She knew they weren’t just friends—she wasn’t stupid, and neither was he. But they were both content with their relationship, and neither bothered to do anything about it.

Except that now, in the moment, Marinette wanted more. Apparently Tim agreed, with the way he was looking at her. There was a hungry glint in his eyes, which flickered down to her lips before gazing at her once more. A beat was all they needed to come to a silent agreement.

Marinette closed her eyes, tilting her head upwards from her position on the floor. Warm breath fanned across her face moments before soft lips brushed against hers. She melted into the kiss, feeling his heartbeat thud against her chest, smelling his cologne mixed with sweat. It was languid and sweet, and Marinette smiled against his lips. It just felt right.

The kiss ended abruptly, however, as Tim pulled away. She frowned in confusion and sat up, ready to ask what was wrong before catching sight of the phone in his hand.

“You cheater!” Marinette gasped. She straightened and lunged for her phone, but he simply held it out of reach before clicking the “delete” button.

“Gotcha,” he replied smugly.

“Hey,” Marinette pouted. “I liked that picture.”

The photo was one she had taken of Tim while he was unaware, which led to him chasing her around in an effort to get her to delete it.

“You owe me another one.”

He simply sighed and motioned her to come closer, taking his phone out at the same time. Marinette smoothed her hair out as he wrapped an arm around the back of her neck. She smiled at the camera before noticing Tim’s neutral expression.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Smile!”

He gave an awkward grimace, and Marinette poked him in the side until he rolled his eyes and gave a real smile to the camera.

After the selfie was snapped, they both looked at the results. Tim seemed surprised at the outcome, and Marinette had to admit they looked good together. Their previous tussle was obvious from their flushed faces, but it made the picture all the more charming. For a stressed young CEO and a secret villain, they looked happy.

She felt a gaze burning into her and turned to see Tim looking at her with an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.

“What?” she asked, confused.

His face morphed as a devious glint appeared in his eyes. Faster than a snake, he darted forward and placed a kiss onto the tip of her nose.

Marinette gaped like a fish, caught off-guard. She barely registered the flash of a camera; when she did, however, she snapped to attention.

“Hey! Gimme that!” she said indignantly.

Tim started to run, phone in hand, and Marinette followed, giggling at the boy’s antics all the way.

Giggled. It wasn’t something she thought she’d ever do again, but things changed after she met Tim Drake. She changed. After she met him, it was easier to control the darkness that took over her soul. It made her a little more human.

Moments of safety and happiness were always fleeting for her—even more so after the incident. But with Tim, things were different. Marinette felt normal around him. She felt loved. But little did she know those moments would soon come to an end.

Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else

Love hurts. That was something Marinette knew better than anything, because she had always been the type to give her love away without receiving any in return—but that didn’t stop her from continuing to do it.

She was the problem. That’s what she’d been told all her life. Even when she was right, she was wrong. Especially when she was right. Anything that went south was her fault, because Marinette had to be perfect even though all she did was mess up.

Maybe the fact that everything in her life went wrong was a sign that she just wasn’t meant to be happy. She would never be good enough.

That was always obvious to everyone else.

That I'd fallen for a lie? You were never on my side Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry There's just no time to die

It was an accident.

Marinette had been scoping out her next target when she realized she had left something important behind at her apartment. She cursed her forgetfulness, which cropped up at the worst of times. Missions seemed to be the only thing she could succeed at nowadays, and there was no room for error. Checking her watch, she saw that there was still enough time to rush to her apartment and back.

She got there in record time, moving silently and swiftly, about to go through the window when a small detail caught her eye. Her front door was slightly ajar. When she had first moved in, she had to figure out a way to finesse the faulty door and get it to close correctly. Warning bells sounded in her head—someone had broken in. Or maybe she had forgotten to close the door correctly in a simple slip of the mind, but that was unlikely. No matter how off her game, Marinette wouldn’t have made this mistake. It was a reflex that couldn’t be broken.

She proceeded with caution, eyes narrowed. However tragic, the incident did provide her with the benefit of enhanced powers. Whoever was in there didn’t stand a chance. She could feel the darkness start to creep in, taking control.

The bluish glow of a light illuminated the inside of her apartment, and her limbs tensed in preparation. Movement in the corner of her vision made her snap her head to attention. There was a figure leaving her room, and the person was toying with something in their hands.

It was nearly pitch-black, but her enhanced senses bypassed any inhibitors. The culprit was wearing a black and red costume with strange chest straps and an emblem—one of Gotham’s vigilantes, then.

That meant they were onto her. She knew it would happen eventually; she was good, but Batman was better. Perhaps if she attempted to prove her innocence she could at least delay her inevitable capture. She dealt with magic, anyways—one more ancient than any other form. The traces left were hard to find by an experienced magic user and impossible to find by a non-user.

She was turned away from the window, about to return to her previous location as proof of her innocence and spin an alibi. But as she did so, the vigilante’s voice stopped her in her tracks. He was speaking quietly into his comm, but she could hear it. She could recognize it too. It sounded almost like—

“Tim,” the voice on the other end of the system said. “Are you almost done?”

It clicked, and horror flooded her Marinette’s body. It snuffed out the darkness, pushing the rage to the corners of her mind. It can’t be him, she thought. Because if it was him, it meant that she was wrong. She trusted him, and she was wrong.

“No names on comms, Dick,” the hero responded.

Any doubt Marinette had that it wasn’t Tim disappeared. A pit opened in her stomach, and the feeling of white-hot rage and betrayal blazed in her mind. Every inch in her body was screaming at her to get out, but she stayed. She needed to know.

“I checked her room, but I couldn’t find anything incriminating yet.”

“What about the bug?”

“Nothing. It didn’t pick anything up.”

A pause.

“That’s weird. Do you think she knows?”

“That I’m Red Robin? No. She wouldn’t have let me get this close if she did.”

Static sounded on the other side of the line before Dick responded one last time.

“Keep searching. If you can’t find anything else on her, we’ll have to take a more… direct approach.”

“Roger that.”

Tim pressed a button on his comms and resumed whatever he was doing, but Marinette had heard enough. She wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. She wanted to jump into the room and ask him if it was all a lie. Voices screamed at each other in her head, trying to get her to do something. Marinette drowned them all out. She steeled herself, turning her back to the window. Taking in a deep breath, she opened her eyes and fell into the emptiness.

I let it burn You're no longer my concern Faces from my past return Another lesson yet to learn

Marinette unpacked the boxes she had teleported from her apartment, face carefully blank. The day after she had found out Tim was Red Robin was spent packing her things. Normally they would have already been ready to go; all she would have to do was enact one of her contingency plans. After all, Marinette was prepared for everything. But she wasn’t prepared for this.

The warehouse was one of her most secure, but it was cold and empty, the only warmth emanating from the gas fireplace. The fire flickered, and she could feel her resolve flicker with it. After a few moments, she placed her purse on her lap and gently pulled out the picture of her and Tim.

It was only taken a few weeks ago, but a lot of things could change in a few weeks. Her happy expression was foreign now, and Marinette closed her eyes as she gripped the picture tighter.

After a few moments of hearing the crackling fire, she opened her eyes and studied Tim’s face, carving it into memory.

Then she let it go and let it burn.

That I'd fallen for a lie You were never on my side Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry There's just no time to die

Marinette had dreams of him often. She hated them, because they gave her hope when hope was what hurt her in the first place.

In those dreams, he told her that he had always loved her. That he had made a mistake in deceiving her, and he wanted her back. Needed her back. He entertained her delusions, and she believed him. At least, until she woke up and cold reality struck.

She really was a fool.

No time to die No time to die

She didn’t think she’d ever see him again.

She didn’t know if she wanted to see him again.

But here they were, facing off. Hero versus villain.

Tim had shown up on one of her missions, somewhere off the coast of a random country. She couldn’t remember at this point. The darkness had consumed her completely, wrath twisting her face into one that was unrecognizable.

“You don’t have to do this.” The placating words sparked her temper.

“Neither did you,” she replied bitterly. They both knew what she really meant.

She charged forward, and Tim parried with his bo-staff, gritting his teeth at the force only to stumble backward when she ducked around and behind him. She sent a kick to the back of his knees—a dirty move, but she never played fair anyways.

Bracing his staff on the ground before him, he used the momentum just in time to flip himself over and avoid falling on his face.

Marinette surveyed emotionlessly as he panted from exhaustion. She could easily take him out right then, but she didn’t want to waste her energy. She had already done what was needed, and her target’s blood would take absolutely forever to get out of her suit.

It seemed as if Tim noticed, and his disbelief at her cruelty seeped through when he asked “How could you?”

She laughed derisively. “How could I?”

The vigilante at least felt some remorse from the way his eyes flashed. Up until this point she had been cold and detached, but he could hear a hint of desperation seep into her words. He knew what she was really asking: if what they had was real. If he had ever loved her, or if it was all a lie. He hesitated before opening his mouth.

“A mission is a mission.”

If he blinked he might have missed it. For a brief second she recoiled, visibly struck before schooling her expression into one of neutrality. Her back straightened, and she fell back into the person he couldn’t recognize. The darkness around her pulsed, and he shifted his weight into a defensive stance, preparing for another attack. But he wasn’t ready for what she had in store.

The darkness expanded, and Tim’s vision grew hazy. He could dimly register his body swaying before it hit the ground. As he faded in and out of consciousness, Marinette stepped into his field of vision. She looked the same since he had last seen her, but her eyes were shadowed and unforgiving. The same lips he used to kiss mouthed the words “a mission is a mission” before everything faded into black.

Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry There's just no time to die

She didn’t think it would end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It was just another normal mission; nothing dangerous—or at least, more dangerous than usual. Hunt down her target, extract information, do away with them as painfully as possibly, and leave.

But after her interaction with Tim, her work had gotten more sloppy. Rather than the icy rage that had become her new normal, her movements were fueled by anguish. Recklessness trumped logic, like she had lost control. And although she was off her game, she wouldn’t let something so trivial become a hindrance.

Until it did.

Marinette was ambushed. She leapt into action as quickly as her reflexes allowed; her movements were slightly delayed, but it was so imperceptible it shouldn't have made a difference.

Except for the fact that her attackers somehow knew her. Knew how she moved, knew exactly what her weaknesses were.

She took down two of the three opponents, leaving the best for last. But with every punch she threw they knew exactly where to block. Her adversary seemed to sense her frustration and laughed behind their infuriating black mask. Marinette snarled, lunging for the figure only to stumble over thin air.

“I thought you were supposed to be better than this.”

She got up and drew in deep breaths, sweat coating her forehead and exhaustion making her weary. She slowly walked in a circle, eyes darting around the shadows in the room.

“You beat one of the Bats, did you not?”

The darkness around her flickered, and that’s when the opponent struck.

Marinette felt the impact, but didn’t realize anything had happened until she moved her hand to see it covered in red. The liquid was warm and sticky, and the puddle beneath her was growing bigger by the second. Blood? She moved her hand closer to her face in an attempt to see it more clearly, but her vision blurred. The room swayed, and she heard an oof as her body hit the floor. It had come from herself.

She knew she had to do something, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was paralyzed. Marinette reached out only to have her arm fall lazily into the pool of red, limbs weak and movements sluggish.

Scarlet seeped into her gloves, and her body burned but was so numb at the same time. She felt so sleepy. Sleep, she thought, the word repeating in her mind like a mantra. A nap sounds good. Right before her eyes closed, pain erupted in her side. Her body jolted, and a cross between a gurgle and cough left her mouth. She tilted her head up to frown at whoever had kicked her only to see the black-hooded figure.

She couldn’t tell from the mask obscuring their face but was sure they had just given her a wicked smile. The person tutted. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

Marinette let out a soft noise of defiance. Her protest only seemed to amuse them—them? she was pretty sure it was a woman—judging by the small chuckle they let out. They leaned down, and she felt cold hands caress her face, sending shivers down her spine.

The masked face lowered to her level, and a final message left their lips.

“You can thank Red Robin for his assistance.”

There was a yank, and a strange burning sensation coursed through Marinette’s body. She heard the clatter of an object and spotted a metallic glint before the figure stood up. Panic bloomed in her stomach as they walked away, her breathing getting more shallow by the moment.

She pushed aside the pain, choosing to ignore it in favor of turning over those parting words.

You can thank Red Robin for his assistance.

Red Robin. Marinette wanted to laugh at the irony. Stabbed in the back indeed.

Moments before Tim ran into the room, she took her last breath.

Notes:

I left the details of “the incident” purposefully vague so you guys could think of your own turning point for her. Personally, what I imagine is that after Hawkmoth’s defeat, Marinette tried to take the magical punishments in his place. She also combined both Miraculous and tried to unbind the kwamis so they couldn’t be abused again, but there were consequences. The power “corrupted” her and made more violent. She’s still a hero, technically, but rather than saving people she punishes (kills) them for wrongdoings which is why she’s considered a villain.

In case you’re confused about the ending, here’s what happened: I dressed the ambushers in League of Assassins-esque clothing; I actually wrote it with Talia in mind but decided to leave the person unidentified. Essentially, Marinette lost focus when her opponent mentioned her fight with Tim and got stabbed in the back. The person tells her to “thank Red Robin for his assistance.” Marinette interprets this as another betrayal; basically, she thinks Tim willingly helped them kill her by providing them with information on her. This isn’t the case since they actually stole the information from him, but Marinette doesn’t know that. Whether or not the opponent actually meant for her to think she was betrayed is up for interpretation.

I was actually debating between a few endings—I’ll put them here just for funsies. The more angst the better :D

Marinette dies a while after the apartment incident and never actually talks to/meets Tim again

Someone randomly kills her (no mention of “betrayal”)

Tim accidentally kills her

A clone of Tim kills her

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @enternalempires @freesportspalacesalad

#maribat #celestewrites #timari #timinette #cel's fics

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misslynn99 · 3 years

Text

Epicenter: Chapter Two

Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Link on AO3: Epicenter

Link to Chapter 1

Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

The next morning, the café regulars buzzed around the TV monitors, excitedly chatting about the news. Official footage of the attack had finally been aired. Concrete flew everywhere as the villain lashed out against heroes, sending distraught civilians fleeing from the scene. The scene that every news station had on repeat, however, was that of several tons of concrete on a direct collision course for a young family, until Ground Zero put himself between the two. He squared back one shoulder to pulverize the rubble with a blast, and in that moment, his wild eyes were molten flames, the fine cascade of dust casting a hazy halo around his form.

It was such a harsh contrast to the villain swinging a pillar of concrete immediately after, colliding directly with the hero’s chest and sending him hurtling back against the harsh exterior of another building, slumping bonelessly on the ground.

“He saved them.” You whispered to yourself. Icy needles twisted in your chest. Eijirou had trusted you to care for his closest friend at his most vulnerable. The café was much closer than any hospital to the scene, but your heart skipped a beat, fluttering in astonishment. “He could have died. It’s a wonder he didn’t.” Just how close had Ground Zero been to death’s door when he showed up here?

“Blasty is lucky he’s got a rad, manly partner like me.” Eijirou’s voice startled you, suddenly far too close to your ear.

“Hi!” You squeaked. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“You think I’d let my best girl go un-thanked after saving my partner’s ass yesterday?” His arms swept you into a tight bear hug, twirling your feet off of the floor. Eijirou’s easy smile seemed to smooth over the awkward tension from the day before, as if it were no more than an insignificant blight of an otherwise sunny day.

“Quit harassing the woman, Shitty Hair. We’re here on business.”

“She likes it.” Eijirou had the gall to stick out his tongue. “Isn’t that right?”

“I, I don’t mind.” You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, dropping your head forward, and you prayed that no one would notice. This crush was spiraling out of control, as the sturdy muscles that could shatter any obstacle and strong enough to lift cars supported you easily in his embrace.

“ ‘Don’t mind’ isn’t the same as ‘like’.” Ground Zero’s mouth turned even further downward into a scowl. Reluctantly, Eijirou set you down, and you felt cold at the absence of his touch. The tension settled again like a thick cloud, choking out whatever embers of affection you felt for the red haired hero.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” The red-head’s own face was dusted with faint pink, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem.” You tried your best to smile kindly, wincing internally at the memory of his flinch. “Why don’t I get you both some coffee on the house? It’s the least I can do for everything you two do to protect the city.”

“One black coffee it is then!” Eijirou perked back up.

“So, I take it you’ll have the latte, extra heavy cream with two pumps caramel, two pumps cinnamon, and cinnamon-brown sugar mix dusted on top?”

Ground Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to say that so loud.”

“No shame.” You chuckled despite yourself. “Plenty of people take their coffee sweet, too.”

“Don’t spare Blasty’s feelings!” Eijirou laughed. “Even Mr. ‘Nothing is spicy enough’ likes sweets on occasion.”

“You better shut your mouth!” Ground Zero snapped, his tone climbing with each word. Curiously, Eijirou kept laughing, and tapped at his own ear.

“Right, got it.” The blonde grumbled. “Too loud.”

“Here you go, boys.”

“I have a name, you know.” The blonde held the cup up, scowling. “I’m off work, damn it. You called Shitty hair by his name on the cup.”

“It’s not like you introduced yourself between eating shit against the building and going in for surgery.” Eijirou scoffed.

“And you did?”

“Kiri stayed with me while they gave me IV fluids.” You supplied bashfully. “And I wanted to know when you made it out okay.”

“Call me Bakugou then.” He made a strangled noise. “When I’m not in suit tearing shit up, I don’t wanna hear ‘Ground Zero’ from you, got it?

“Not your given name?” Eijirou seemed to take a savage joy in goading on the explosive hero. “That’s awful cold, Katsuki. She did save you from a hospital stay and a month off of hero work.”

“Or Katsuki, whatever.” If looks could kill, Eijirou would have dropped dead in his tracks. Bakugou’s eye twitched and small firework-pops crackled off of his palms, clenched into fists at his side. You hoped that the café regulars were too enamored with the news and their own conversations to notice the sparks flying.

“I can call you Bakugou, if that’s what make you more comfortable. Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” You chuckled, carefully watching his expression for his reaction to the playful jab.

“Kacchan’s bark is worse than his bite, at least off of the battlefield.” A new voice drifted in from the door. The emerald curls, gelled up from his undercut, were unmistakable. “I’m afraid that we didn’t get introduced last night. I’m Deku, but you can call me Midoriya if you’d like.”

“Kacchan?” You grinned wickedly. “Isn’t that so cute!”

Bakugou bristled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fucking nerd!” He whipped around to snarl at the green-haired hero that had just walked in. For someone who was effectively co-workers with the number one hero, Bakugou acted like he despised the man.

“Aw, pump the breaks Kacchan.” Midoriya scrunched his freckled nose in a wide grin. “I’m just here to say hello to the woman who saved your life last night. So, this is where Kiri has been getting your coffee from? It’s such a nice little café, I think I’ll have stop by more often.”

“Like hell you will! We found it first!” Bakugou growled, stepping between you and Deku, while Eijirou chimed in the background, “I think you mean that I found it first.”

“Boys, boys, you’re all very pretty.” You ducked around the pro hero’s side, attempting to soothe the bickering. “I have plenty of coffee to go around. “

“You’re not keeping her as your personal barista and healer, Kacchan.”

“What happened to keeping this on the down-low?” Bakugou suddenly stiffened, whispering harshly.

“I think someone is feeling a bit embarrassed.” Eijirou rolled his eyes.

“I got my shit rocked on national television, of fucking course I feel embarrassed.” The blonde snapped. “But for her safety, I thought we agreed to keep any rescue shit-talk out of the public eye.”

Wincing, you looked up at him. “I think they’re calling you saving that family the rescue of the year though. And lots of people have minor healing quirks.”

Whipping his head back and forth, he snagged the strings of your apron and tugged you behind the coffee bar, through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Wait!” The two other heroes followed suit, chasing you as Bakugou dragged you out of the public eye.

“You don’t have a ‘minor healing quirk.’ “ He scowled, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, hands trembling as if he were resisting the urge to shake you. You could feel the residual heat of his calloused palms, the threat of an explosion ghosting along your skin and sending shivers up your spine.

“You have a self-destructive healing quirk that has major potential to get you kidnapped. Do you know the League of Villains would do to get their hands on you? Or fuck it, the Hero Commission? They’d keep you caged up like some animal to fix up their toys as they broke so that they could be sent out scot-free again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Midoriya and Eijirou recoil, especially as the blonde hero turned his ire towards them once again. “Is some kind of joke to you two? Kirishima, if you could take two minutes to keep it in your pants, and Deku, if you could be serious, we need to come up with a plan.”

“Yes, Kacchan.” Midoriya and Eijirou nodded.

“Where do you live?” His burning eyes narrowed in your direction once again.

Swallowing thickly, you met his gaze. “In the loft above the café.”

“Hmm. Who all knows about the full extent of your quirk?”

“Just my parents, and my best friend from middle school, who moved to the states while we were in college.”

“Maybe she should stay with one of us?” Midoriya offered. “Just to see if anyone’s decided to target her?”

Panic froze your feet to the floor. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” You laughed nervously, fiddling with the apron strings tied at your hip. “I mean, you’re all very nice, but I could never ask that of anyone. I’m up at 4 in the morning to get the café ready to open at five, and walking alone in the dark is not my forte.” Especially if I might as well have a big target painted on my forehead now.

“The League definitely keeps an eye on our flats. They might not have made the connection that she’s done anything yet, but moving her in would be a surefire way to draw their attention. Also, there’s no way the Commission would just ignore someone else hanging out all the time.” Eijirou argued. “I think it would be better to set up surveillance on the café and her loft, and maybe get her a panic button or something.”

“A panic button.” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there are these novel things called ‘cellphones.’ “

“And if she can’t call?” Midoriya raised an eyebrow.

“Brave words for someone who dropped his location to Icy-Hot, with literally no context, in the middle of an alleyway, and he magically appeared anyways.”

Sighing and stepping between the two bickering men, Eijirou held his hand out expectantly. “Here, I’ll put our numbers in your phone. We should probably scope out your apartment later.”

“I close at five tonight.” You offered, passing your cell to him, contacts open. “I’ll probably be done cleaning up by six, but you’re free to drop by whenever you get the chance after that. All of this feels pretty crazy though. It’s not like I did anything out in the open.”

Turning on the full force of his overwhelming intensity, Bakugou rounded on you once again, having caught the tail of your conversation. “There’s a couple articles floating around. You’re in the pictures, being floated to the hospital, and some low life bloggers are wondering how I was fine so soon afterwards, when Recovery Girl was on the other side of the country for some other case.” Venom dripped from his words, as if this were your fault somehow.

“It’s not my fault that I helped you!” Anger leaked into your voice. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacityto blame you for this. “Don’t talk to me like it is. I couldn’t not do anything. It’s a wonder that hit didn’t do worse, and I am certainly not responsible for them taking me to the hospital with you.”

In frustration, you stormed out of the kitchen, straightening your apron and apologizing to the handful of customers who were waiting by the cash register. A friendly smile and a few discounted coffees later, they sat down at a booth. The heroes were still in your kitchen, and you felt your resolve to ignore them crumbling. “I did give Kiri and Bakugou free coffee earlier.” You mumbled to yourself, a mischievous idea taking root; Bakugou’s buttons were so easy to press.

Leaning around the corner, you poked your head back through the kitchen doorway. The heroes froze, their argument in low tones evaporating with your return. “Midoriya!” You grinned, drawing out the syllables playfully and deliberately ignoring the blonde hero’s angry stare. “How do you like your coffee? Sweet as you are?”

“Uh, umm” He stuttered and his eyes darted between you and the door. “With oat milk, white chocolate and toffee, and iced please.”

“Coming right up! On the house.” The sound of sparks dancing off of Bakugou’s palms eased your flare of anger, taking a little bit of satisfaction in riling up the blonde in return, and you set about making the drink.

The trio must have finally decided to drop their discussion, and shortly followed you out to wait by the coffee bar. Bakugo turned his back to you, eyeing the door and clutching his coffee while Midoriya and Eijirou resigned themselves to facing you, their awkward expressions apologetic. The other café patrons were thankfully still transfixed by the TVs, oblivious to the situation at hand.

“Here’s your phone back.” Eijirou mumbled, setting your phone on the counter. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s just frustrated and annoyed, nothing against you personally. It’s just kinda how he is, ya know? He takes it out on everyone. He’s been this way since he was a teenager, but he doesn’t blame you. Promise.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can accept your apology on his behalf, just this once.” You whispered back, sliding a coffee cup to Midoriya, who sipped it gratefully.

“We’ll be back later. Come on, nerds.” Bakugo’s voice was gruff as he called over his shoulder. “We have a meeting and a patrol shift soon.”

The heroes left and an unease settled in your gut at their absence, acutely missing their larger than life presence. Even as the customers milled about, coming up for refills and pastries, their words weighed on your mind. Villains and Heroes had never been a major point of contention in your life; a quirk like yours wasn’t suited for the spotlight, and like thousands of others, accepted your fate as a civilian.

The coffee shop felt like a homage to another era, before quirks existed. The small planters bloomed in the window display under your mindful care, without any sparks of magic to enhance their color or growth. The coffee beans that arrived each week were roasted delicately by hand, and each new drink was born from trial and error; no surprising powers of charm or persuasion lured customers to your door. It was an honest life that you were proud of, built with hard work and love.

Ringing up another customer and brewing the earl grey tea for a London Fog, it felt like your head was ringing. Your quirk had never been an active threat to your well-being. You had gained some control over the years, having only been able to tend minor scratches and bruises as a child, but never showed enough promise to be recruited into the medical field as a young teen. Even now, the drawbacks were too great. Healing left you exhausted, and the more extensive the injury, the greater the fatigue.

It wasn’t like you came from a family of fantastic heroes either. Your mother worked as a doctor in a wound care and surgical center because she could clean infected tissue at the expense of the patient’s energy. Your father’s quirk was completely unrelated to your own, allowing him to sculpt metal by heating his hands, albeit without flames. It was hard to believe that the arguably worse version of your mother’s quirk made you a target, but the underlying assumptions behind it sent shivers of fear down your spine. If there was no regard for your well-being, your quirk could be indispensable, could be used to patch anyone up at the expense of draining you dry.

Nevertheless, the hours ticked by, dread worrying the pit of your stomach. Bile rose in the back of your throat the longer your anxious thoughts raced. Without the grace of someone with a more offensive quirk, there was little you could do to defend yourself.

Maybe Bakugou was right to be annoyed, but he didn’t have the right to be such an ass about it. Closing time was only half an hour away, and the customers had dwindled in the shop. The pleasant humming of customers faded, exposing every raw nerve that you had. The last person was out, and at 5:06,

... there was a knock.

Snapping to attention, you jerked towards the doors, feeling a strange mixture of relief and annoyance upon seeing Bakugou waiting by the door. Sighing, you called out, “It’s still unlocked.”

He didn’t enter though. He leaned partially against the window with one hand, the other shoved deep into the pocket of his white jeans. He had the hood up on his black and gold hoodie, but not enough to conceal his distinctive blonde hair and you could have sworn his red eyes could burn a hole through anything as he peered in the window. He must not have heard you, and you steeled your resolve to go and let him in.

“Shitty Hair sent me.” He grumbled.

“Hmm.” You hummed in response, wandering back behind the counter to tuck away the extra bottles of syrup and take down the pastry display. “Make yourself at home then.”

The hero looked even more uncomfortable, his shifting gaze never lingering on anything for too long, before he spotted the bottle of disinfectant. To your surprise, he started wiping off tables, but you don’t breath a word, afraid to break the uncanny silence.

At 5:45, Eijirou, Midoriya, and a woman you could only assume was Uravity knocked, and Bakugou dropped the supplies as if he had been burned. Midoriya was the first to heckle him, teasing “Kacchan, I didn’t know that you could be helpful!”

“I was bored, you damn nerd. That’s all.”

The heroes were almost unrecognizably causal. Uravity and Midoriya were in matching letterman jackets, sky blue and patterned with delicate pink cherry blossoms falling from slender black branches, with Shouto written across the back in a beautiful script. Eijirou was also devastatingly casual, wearing baggy, low-rise black jeans and a white v-neck that dipped dangerously below his collar bones. His long red hair was up in his trademark loose ponytail, spilling over his shoulders and down his back.

“So nice to see you again! I’m Uraraka.” Her smile glowed as she bounced forward to greet you. “It’s nice to really see the place that Kirishima and Bakugo talk so much about.”

A frown creased your features. “I think I would have remembered Bakugou coming in for coffee. Doesn’t Kiri just get his?” You mumbled, panicking as you realized it was out loud.

Thankfully, Uraraka giggled. “No, he just won’t let Kiri get coffee from anywhere else now. I think the whole agency knows his order by now.”

“It’s just the least shitty.” Bakugou growled. “But whatever. I have shit to do, so let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way.” Midoriya smiled kindly.

The stairs to the flat were in the kitchen, the door tucked out of sight next to a supply closet. Butterflies fluttered in your chest, and a sudden self-consciousness that almost froze you in place. The apartment was an intimate insight into your life and personality. Your reading was on the living room table, and cherished photos hung on the walls. Is my laundry hanging up to dry? You winced at the thought.

“Welcome!” You forced a smile and led them to the kitchen table. “So, what do you need to check out?”

“We’re not trying to invade your privacy more than necessary.” Midoriya looked solemn, glancing at you shyly from underneath his lashes. “I was thinking we should put a camera right in the stairway that faces the entrance, another on the fire escape, and one on the outside of each of your windows. Then, we can just set up a bunch around the café.”

“Oh,” You relaxed into your seat. “That’s not as bad as I was expecting.”

Midoriya and Uraraka were sitting ram-rod straight at your table, posture stiff and schooled. Eijirou was examining your end table in the living room, carefully turning your favorite candle in his hands, while Bakugou trailed behind like a sullen shadow.

“We just want to make sure you’re safe.” Uraraka reassured. “We’ll probably change the patrol route to make sure that we stop by here, but we won’t be in the shop every time. If nothing is weird, we’ll leave you be after a while.”

“I’m glad.” The remaining tension left your shoulders, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I really don’t want to put my life on pause. I’ve worked really hard for what I have here. “

“Of course!” Eijirou looked over his shoulder, now surveying the sliding glass door that led to the fire escape. “This is the best place in town, and I don’t think I’ll ever stay awake through another Commission meeting without my usual again. Plus, we owe you big time. It’s our fault that you’re starting to get some media attention.”

“Do the cameras need plug-ins or batteries?” You asked cautiously.

“Nah, they’re the special surveillance ones Chargebolt rigged, and we’ll get a notification if the battery is less than 25%. We’ve just gotta get them set up. Uraraka can up to stick them, then make ‘em weightless so they don’t fall down.”

At Eijirou’s words, you could see Uraraka tapping her fingers, jumping up to stick the device to the ceiling. With a frown of concentration, she pulled out her phone, checking the feed and fiddling with the camera until it was angled to her satisfaction before drifting back to the floor.

“We can take it from here. Feel free to go back to closing, or what you usually do in the evening. Don’t be afraid to let us know if you need anything.” Midoriya nodded before excitedly leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm of a little kid. “Also, at some point, can I study your quirk? I keep notebooks of all different quirks I encounter, and yours is so interesting.”

“Shut your trap, nerd!” Bakugou growled from behind Eijirou, who jumped and clutched his partner’s arm. “Stop acting like we’re at the damn zoo. Save it for later.”

“Am not, Kacchan!” Midoriya whined. Turning to you, he put up his hands in a peace gesture. “I think we better get going, though. I think today’s probably been quite the day for you. Uraraka will set those up outside, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Snagging Bakugou’s sleeve, Midoriya pulled him unwillingly down the stairs, with Uraraka having already moved on to install the security cameras in the café. Despite his tough front, the blonde didn’t fight too much, only grimacing and batting away the other hero’s hand as they left.

“Hey Kiri,” You said nervously, before the hero had the chance to follow his teammates out of your apartment. “Thanks for having Bakugou come over to be there while I was closing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you guys said this morning. I just feel so uneasy, like every stranger could be dangerous and I can’t do anything to save myself. It really set my mind at ease to have someone else there.”

“I bet.” He winced with sympathy. “But I didn’t ship Bakugou out here. He volunteered, and you didn't hear that from me.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #reader insert #bakugou katuski x reader #female reader #she/her pronouns #pro hero bakugou #aged up characters #pro hero au #coffee shop au #angst with a happy ending #reader has a healing quirk #canon typical violence #somewhat graphic description of wounds #slow burn #no beta we die like men #Ground zero Au

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years

Text

Don't you believe in love?

Taken from this prompt list

<2000 words

Taehyung had always been a romantic. Ever since he was young, he dreamed of having the love they talked about in his favourite songs. Love that rushed you off your feet, love that consumed your every waking moment, love that was all you needed. Unfortunately, throughout the 20+ years of his life, this love had managed to evade his clutches. He thought he’d found it once. She’d been beautiful, everything he thought love would look like. Her laugh had sounded like bells; however, it was usually aimed at him not with him. Love at first sight had blinded him to the fact that maybe it didn’t work both ways, and she hadn’t taken his dramatic confession particularly well. Still he remained hopeful that the one was still out there.

Following the long-awaited release of his mixtape, Taehyung fell into a bit of a slump. Pouring his heart into something meant so much to him and finally having feedback on it had been more emotionally taxing than he had thought. The record represented his soul in its barest form and now he just found himself scrolling through reviews to see what others thought of it, of him. Most of the comments had been glowing indictments of his voice and character, but he found himself focused on the negative. Some mocked the way he sang of love, calling him naive in his beliefs that love was everything. The other members had tried to cheer him up, saying that the critics must be jealous of the way his brain works. Sometimes it's easier to tear others down than to focus on your own faults.

After words failed to rouse Taehyung’s usually sunny disposition, Jimin decided it was time for a distraction. He settled on clubbing, the only way to get Tae to loosen up was dancing, it had never failed him. Tae dragged himself around the dorm, getting ready for a night out he was sure he didn’t want but forcing himself for Jimin, he would do anything for Jimin. The pair make it to a club in the centre of Seoul a little before 11pm. The venue is filled to the brim with sweaty writhing bodies as the latest dance track booms through the speaker system. Jimin pulls him straight over to the bar at the far end of the room, ordering them six shots each. Taehyung eyes them wearily, but Jimin just grabs one and thrusts it in his direction. Resigned to his fate Tae downs the bitter liquid. The new warmth provides little relief for the aching in his chest. Ever since the release nothing had been able to fill the empty feeling he had been left with. Reporters calling him naïve about romance had left a nasty taste in his mouth. As inexperienced as he was with love, Tae knew what he should feel when it came along. Downing the remainder of the shots, he turned to scope out the room. That’s when he saw you. It was like his vision narrowed and there was a spotlight directly centred on you. He watched as your hips swayed to the beat and you laughed with your friends. A mere glimpse of you had him captivated. He handed his last empty shot glass to Jimin and made an excuse before making a beeline across the room to where you were dancing.

“Excuse me?” he taps your shoulder to get your attention and you turn to face him.

“Yes” you gaze up at him through long eyelashes and he thinks he might melt.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just saw you from by the bar and I think… I think I might die if you don’t dance with me” you giggle at his words, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful sound in the world. You tell your friends where you are going and take his hand. He pulls you as close as he can, unsure of how he got lucky enough for you to say yes. The two of you spend the rest of the night drinking and dancing together. The lights have come on in the club before you even realise how long you’d spent together. Jimin and your friends are long gone. Each checked with you before they left but you assured them you were okay and off they went.

“Can I walk you home?” Taehyung asks timidly.

“Sure” you respond before leading the way. You walk in comfortable silence for a couple of blocks, enjoying each-others company, your hands occasionally knocking together. Around halfway you finally buck up the courage to do something about it. “Hold my hand?” you ask, and he does. It feels like electricity passes between your grasped palms. His thumb traces little patterns over the back of your hand, you can’t help but bite your lip as each circle adds to you growing arousal. The way Taehyung affected you felt like magic.

“I think… I’ve been waiting all my life for you” his whisper is so quiet you almost miss it. You glance up to see him already staring at you. “Is that crazy?” you shake your head a little unable to think of the words to show you were feeling exactly the same way. Your heart stills as his lips crash messily into yours. His hands roam up and down the bare skin of your back, exposed by the deep cut of your dress. The contact makes you shiver before coming to your senses.

“Tae I should tell you… I’m a virgin.” You meet his eyes but find yourself unable to tell what he is thinking. “Please don’t think I don’t want this; I just need you to know before we go any further. His lips meet your again briefly.

“Me too.” He mumbles against your lips. The question in your eyes must’ve been evident in your eyes when you pull away from him. “I’m a virgin too” he clarifies “but I want this, I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything” you take a hold of his hand again and start running in the direction of your home. He chuckles as he struggles to keep up with your new speed.

You reach your house in no time. Now reduced to a fumbling ball of limbs as he tries to unzip your dress as you attempt to remove his shirt, all while stealing kisses, refusing to be separated for more than a moment. By the time you reach your bedroom you are fully undressed. Nothing separating you from each-other prying eyes. Tae pushes you back onto the bed, admiring your naked form.

“Beautiful” he breaths before joining you. His lips trail down your neck and over your chest. He finally stops when he comes to your pubic mound “Are you sure? I would wait forever for you if you want me to?” you shake your head and smile.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He returns your smile with his own boxy grin before diving into your dripping folds. His tongue drags unceremoniously along your slit, causing a wave of arousal to flow through you. His haste displays his inexperience, but you can’t bring yourself to care as pleasure overwhelms you. Your hands travel down to intertwine in his long brown locks. His eyes lock on yours as he sucks at your clit, watching each little reaction, adjusting to account for what seems to cause the most excitement. When you moan, he realises he was wrong about what the most beautiful sound in the world was. Seeing you writhe underneath him causes his cock to throb painfully, he decides right then he wants nothing more than to please you forever.

“Tae…” your moans are a little breathless as you feel the building pleasure in your stomach. A sensation you had only managed to cause yourself before now. You clench around his tongue trying to fight off the oncoming orgasm, just for him to replace the muscle with a finger. The digit curves perfectly against your sweet spot and you unravel, but that doesn’t stop him. Another finger finds its way inside you as he pumps carefully, prepping you. His mouth makes its way back up your body. His tongue laving briefly against your nipples before reaching his goal and connecting his lips back to yours. The taste of yourself on him is intoxicating, it makes you moan into his open mouth. You feel his dick throb against your leg at the new stimulation. You gasp and reach down for him. Once holding him you realise you have no idea where to go from there. He chuckles a little before removing his hand from between you folds and showing you how he liked to be rubbed, you quickly find a rhythm using your own juices from Tae’s hand as lubricant. He becomes a panting mess on top of you as you bring him close to his end.

“I need you now…” he pants removing your hand before he spills too early, “where are your condoms?” you point to your bedside draw, and watch him blush a little as he finds you vibrator hidden next to a stash of condoms. You giggle a little at his reaction and sit up a little. He rips the small plastic packet open and pinches the top of the latex. You move to help him put it on, but he stops you. “If you help this is going to be over a lot quicker than either of us want” he carefully rolls the material down his cock as you watch, getting a little antsy as he takes his time. As soon as he is finished, he pulls you back into his arms, adjusting himself against the headboard of your bed. Your lean up on to your knees so he can position himself underneath you. It takes a few attempts as you struggle to take him in at first, but once he is you lower yourself down at an agonisingly slow pace. He inhales through gritted teeth. The desperation is evident on his face as he focuses on not thrusting the rest of the way into you. Once you reach the base you feel uncomfortably full. It takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling, so you busy yourself with marking the pretty blemish free skin along Taehyungs collarbones. You watch in awe as little purple marks begin to bloom. Slowly you start to bounce in Taehyung’s lap as the pain fades into a strange pleasure. His eyes are screwed shut as you become more confident, moving faster and faster. His hand snakes in between your bodies to fumble with your clit, you grind yourself forward onto his hand, showing him how you like to be touched. It doesn’t take long after this for the familiar twist of an orgasm to reappear in your stomach. A few more thrusts has you melting into him, your sweaty body collapse against his front as he continues pumping himself inside of you, chasing his own finish. After he comes you untangle yourself from his limbs, suddenly feeling very cold from the loss. You make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself off. When you return you find Taehyung putting his clothes back on. You can’t help the disappointment rising in your chest at the prospect of him leaving.

“Aren’t you staying?” your voice is timid, worried you’ll scare him away.

“I will stay for as long as you want me to” he replies moving to take you back into his arms

“Stay with me forever.” He chuckles his agreement and moves to get back into your bed.

“Hold me?” he opens his arms wide and beckons you to him, you slip into his arms, content to never move again.

Masterlist

Other requests from these prompts

#bts fic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts #taehyung smut #v smut #kim taehyung smut #maknae line smut

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ampleappleamble · 3 years

Text

This is a long one.

Content warning: Mentions of child abuse.

—

Axa looked at Aloth sitting on the animancer's couch and wondered if, in bringing him here, she had made a mistake.

He looked utterly miserable: copper bands fastened just a little too tightly around his forehead and his wrists, too wound up with inner tension to even wipe away the bead of sweat slowly crawling down his temple, and Bellasege's cheerful, energetic demeanor as she bustled about setting up her equipment only served to further accentuate his misery. Kana and Pallegina paid more attention to the animancer than to their own traveling companion, inquiring about the procedure and the tools used in performing it regardless of Aloth's obvious discomfort, while Sagani and Edér fumbled awkwardly in their misguided attempts to distract him with jokes and platitudes. Overall, the room had an atmosphere suggestive of the future site of a terrible accident that, later, everyone present would claim they could never have seen coming.

Everyone but the victim.

Aloth's gaze met Axa's, silvery-blue eyes pleading silently, and she gave him the warmest, most comforting smile she could muster. "It'll be alright, Aloth," she reassured him gently. "We're all here with you."

Edér puffed on his pipe, bathing the elf in thick, odorous smoke while Sagani dabbed at his clammy brow with a scrap of cloth, her fox sniffing delicately at his boots. Kana ignored him in favor of examining the animancer's complex equipment, while Pallegina stood by the door, coolly observing the scene.

"Marvelous," Aloth muttered.

"Alright, gliente, we are ready now to begin!" The primary instrument Bellasege intended to use rather resembled a telescope, albeit one that bristled with gears and thick bundles of copper wiring, fixed into a tripod and focused on Aloth's midsection. The animancer peered into it eagerly, adjusting knobs and tilting it just so, all eyes in the room nervously darting between her and her subject, waiting for something to happen.

"First," she continued, "we must evoke this other presence in your soul, entice it into showing itself. And to do that, we must agitate your humors– stir up your essence, ac?" She poked her head out from behind the scope, beaming at him. "So! You will answer some personal questions so as to facilitate the emotional response necessary to draw out your inner turmoil."

Everyone's eyes widened as they turned toward Aloth, their eyebrows jumping up their respective foreheads. "Don't worry, dear," Sagani smiled, wincing as she patted his elbow. "We won't hear any of it, I'm sure." He did not look at her, and Bellasege waved her hand impatiently at the dwarf until she backed away from the couch.

Focusing again on the eyepiece of her scope, Bellasege pressed on. "Please state your full name, your species and stock, sex, age, date and place of birth. For the record."

He sighed. "I'm... I am Aloth Corfiser, Sceltrfolc, male, 62 years of age, born on the 9th of Préauton, 2760 AI, in the Cythwood, in the Aedyr Empire." He started off strong enough, but by the end his voice was wavering, his gaze flitting uncomfortably around the room, not quite able to stay on any one spot for too long.

"And at what time in your life did you first Awaken, Fentre Corfiser?" She somehow managed to take notes with one hand and fiddle with her scope with the other, her script messy and slanting severely to one side due to looking through her lenses instead of at what she was writing. "It is 'Fentre', ac?"

He glanced at Pallegina. "Is it?"

"It is," the paladin asserted. "Unless you are keeping a marriage secret from us, too. In which case, you would be properly addressed as Mestre Corfiser."

"Fentre it is, then," he sighed. "And to answer your question, I... I first Awakened when I was still very young, only fifteen or... thereabouts."

"Fractured at... the very cusp... of adolescence..." Bellasege made a quick mark in her notes, frowned, squinted harder into her scope. "...And what were your early years like, Fentre? Were you a healthy infant? A difficult child? Was your family splintered, abusive, impoverished, stricken with madness or malady?"

"I don't– I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, frustration slowly coloring his pale cheeks. "I had a perfectly ordinary childhood. Nondescript, uneventful. What sort of a question is that to ask someone?"

Edér grinned. "The sort one asks a man who talks to a lady in his head, I'd reckon."

Axa glared at the farmer, stepping away from him and closer to the couch. "Not helping, Edér."

Judging from Aloth's reluctance in coming here in the first place, she figured they probably only had one chance at this, and he was never going to get anywhere if he couldn't relax and focus enough to be honest about himself. So she approached him until he was within arm's length of her, lowering her head to look into his face until he returned her gaze. "Here, Aloth: Try telling her about your parents. Your mother, your father. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you remember growing up with them?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Axa became aware of something odd stirring within her. It wasn't physical, it wasn't mental, it wasn't exactly emotional although it was closer to that than to anything else she could ascribe it to. The feeling reminded her of her final moments with Maerwald, how after she'd landed the killing blow and the old man's soul had seeped up and out of his physical body, she had been able to reach out to it somehow, to communicate her will to it and help it pass out of this world, away from Caed Nua and off to the Beyond. Aloth's soul was in no way preparing to do the same, but at the moment it was more... open to her, despite not consciously using her abilities as a Watcher, and she could see it in a way she ordinarily couldn't– and if she tried, she found she could very subtly influence it, too.

His soul was dark and stormy, a thousand thousand writhing violet wires all coiled and snarled around one another, but as Axa spoke her voice resonated within her like the toll of a bell, waves of calm emanating out from her to roll over the turbulent sea inside him, and she watched as the wisps of essence at the edges of his soul smoothed themselves, began to pulse gently in unison. Her eyes were still locked with his, and she dimly perceived his pupils dilating, his eyelids drooping as his soul untangled itself and allowed him to give voice to his thoughts at last.

"My mother," he murmured softly. "My mother is... away. She's usually away, tending to her duties with her thayn. But when we're together, when she's home, she's good to me." The muscles under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth tensed up, and his breath hitched in his throat. "I... I miss her. But that's what brings in most of the money for the household. Her haemneg to her thayn. So she's away, often."

Bellasege gasped. "I'm starting to see something," she whispered.

"My father... hates this. Hates that it's her, her and her other man, who are supporting his family despite his hard work and dedication to his erl. He... he drinks to escape that pain. In great quantity, and often. As often as she is away, but sometimes even when she's home." Aloth narrowed his eyes, lip curling into a scowl. "And he takes out on us what pain he cannot escape in drink. He... hurts her when she's home. Hurts me when she's not."

"Keep him talking," Bellasege hissed excitedly, twiddling a knob.

Axa could still feel the calm emanating from her, great waves flowing over to his soul on the tides of her voice, entrancing him. They echoed back to her too, it seemed, snippets of feeling and memory riding back on their wake– a man's voice booming through austere halls, fear and anger that was not hers churning her guts. "He hurt you the day you were Awakened, too, didn't he?"

"She was home," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I should have been alright. She should have kept me safe. She was home, but he was sodden with it, and I–"

"Slow down," Axa murmured. "What happened exactly?"

"I– I was home, tending to my chores, sweeping the kitchen. Thinking about my training. I tried so hard, I always tried hard, but– but I was so terrified of failure that I couldn't focus, so my missiles weren't manifesting the way they should have. My flame shields were weak, unstable. Like me. And he must have heard about it." Aloth clenched his jaw tightly, his hands balled into fists, and Axa could feel something bubbling up within him, something in his soul raging and frothing up just beneath the surface. "I was sweeping the kitchen floor, and then– then I was sprawled across it, my blood was spattered across it, and I barely had time to think that now I'd have to clean it again before he–"

–can't even do that right, can you–

The disturbance in the depths of his soul spiked suddenly, making the tang of fresh blood and boot polish fill Axa's mouth and sinuses, the memory of his father's voice driving nausea and dread to rise up inside her like a malevolent fog. Aloth started to curl in on himself, drawing his knees up, hunching his shoulders.

–give me the respect I'm due if I have to wring it out of your worthless throat–

Aloth's voice was reduced to an agonized whimper. "It was then the beating truly began. I tried to protect myself, but if I shielded my front, he'd go for my kidneys, and if I rolled onto my back, he'd kick my ribs, stomp my belly. It was useless–"

–useless little shit, not even mine, is he, you whore–

"–useless. I was trapped, and he was... I thought he was going to kill me. So I... I did the only thing I could, and I... escaped in my mind. I took myself away from him, left my body on the kitchen floor, and I shrunk back into myself where he couldn't hurt me anymore. Where he could never hurt me again. And I... sh-she..." Aloth went silent, and his eyes whipped around rapidly beneath his eyelids, his fingers twitching and his jaw clenched so tightly Axa could hear his teeth grinding together. His soul thrashed and seethed, and Axa drew back instinctively, as though turning away from spitting grease.

"Madiccho, I'm losing it!" Bellasege bared her teeth as she furiously twisted her knobs, apparently to no avail. "He's managed to mesmerize himself somehow! His essence is all over the place. Tella, you've got to snap him out of it, quickly, per complanca!"

–stop it please stop he's our son our boy o gods you'll kill him you'll–

"Aloth–" Her heart leapt up into her throat, and before she could stop herself, Axa was reaching out to take his hand, holding it tightly between her own, desperately trying to bring him back to the here and now. "Aloth! Listen to me, you're alright, it's just a bad memory!"

For a second, it seemed to be working– his eyes stayed shut, but his breathing slowed, his shaking subsided, even his soul seemed to cool and congeal a bit, settling back into a more stable state. She squeezed his hand gently, her fingertips pressed to his palm, her thumb drifting over his knuckles. And after a moment, his fingers flexed weakly, tentatively gripping her hand in return. Something in her stomach fluttered, and warmth bloomed across her cheeks. "...It's alright. You're here now, and I'm here with you. You're safe–"

–it's over now, dear heart, you're safe, he's gone–

And with that, Aloth's eyes flew open, and very suddenly his soul violently rejected Axa's presence, severing her influence over it like slamming a door in her face. She jerked back in shock, his hand slipping from her grasp, and he dug his fingers into the meat of his thighs, knuckles white with tension as he glowered at the little woman.

"The lad's nere safe when I hap' upon him." His voice was low and husky and dangerous.

Axa blinked, looking at Aloth's eyes and seeing a stranger. "...Iselmyr?"

"Am damn sure nae yer Aloth, lass. Or could ye nae tell?" He smirked– no, she smirked, using his face, and a second later he winced, gasping and writhing as he struggled for control.

A cry of elation rang out from behind the scope. "Yes! At last! There it is: the anomaly in his soul, clear as crystal!" Bellasege jabbed at her parchment with her quill, consumed with what she saw through the polished adra lenses. "Fascinating! Please, Tella Mala, you must get it– get her– to engage with you further. This data is truly astonishing!" Even Kana looked mildly disturbed by the woman's enthusiasm for knowledge at the expense of Aloth's suffering, and he turned wide-eyed to Axa, grimacing distastefully.

She tried not to think about it. This was more for Aloth than Bellasege– much more– and though it was difficult for him, he'd be better off after all was said and done. "Iselmyr, what exactly brought you out in Aloth? Why did you feel you had to intervene?"

"Fer why'd ye think, ye wee daftie?" Iselmyr curled Aloth's lip into a snarl, glaring at Axa with barely contained rage. "The lad tellt ye whit his da were oop tae. When ye can hear naught but yer bones crackin' 'n' yer blood roarin' in yer heed, when crisis is nigh 'n' it's yer neck oan th' block– d'ye jess lie back 'n' let 'em snuff ye?"

Edér's pipe almost tumbled from his mouth, hanging agape with wonder. "Did anyone understand... uh, most of that?"

"Try to get them to talk to one another," Bellasege suggested, ignoring Edér entirely. "Interacting with outside influences is good, but interacting with each other ought to reveal exactly where one ends and the other begins."

"Can you do that?" Sagani knitted her brow, concern shining in her dark eyes as she studied Aloth. "And even if you can, is it a good idea?"

Axa leaned close again, carefully laying her hand on the elf's shoulder. "Aloth, can you hear me? Can you speak with Iselmyr? Ask her what she's trying to do?"

He groaned in frustration, planted his elbows on his knees and his temples between his fists. "What she's doing?" he snapped. "She's ruining my life, that– that damnable, stubborn–" He panted for breath, struggling against her, face red and veins throbbing in his brow. "Sticking weed–" he managed. "Worming parasite–"

And then he threw his head back, cackling, tossing Axa's hand from his shoulder as he did. "Fye, ye'd say th' same to yer wee kindled twig when it faws limp in yer haund!"

"Oof," Edér chuckled, shifting uncomfortably. "Guess that would be a pretty common problem for a fella, knowin' some lady's in his body, judgin' him the whole time he's tryin' to–"

"Not helping, Edér." Sagani echoed Axa's earlier sentiment, taking the man by the elbow and steering him away from the couch, Itumaak nipping helpfully at his heels.

"This presence in him, it... it's as though it pools in the recesses he's made in himself, it ebbs where he flows." Bellasege wobbled the scope to and fro, peering into it all the while. "Whether you meant to or not, Fentre, you've carved out quite the spacious little home for your other half!"

"That's ludicrous," Aloth hissed, outrage and humiliation burning his cheeks. "I give her nothing; she takes without asking, usurps me–"

"I only takes whit I need to keep us ou' th' scupper!" Iselmyr interrupted, baring Aloth's teeth, spittle flying from his lip. "An' I dinnae take wi'out givin', ken?"

Aloth blinked, then scoffed derisively. "What have you ever given me aside from trouble, you wretched bumpkin?" The back-and-forth was dizzying, but Axa was somehow managing to keep up.

"Fye, have lent ye a pair o' baws mair times 'n I can count," Iselmyr snapped. She turned Aloth's gaze on Axa again, his eyes wild and fierce with her behind them. "G'wan, Watcher-lass. Ask 'im whit I dae fer us. How last time that auld bastard da o' his lay his haund on us, I brek it in three feckin' places."

The triumphant grin Iselmyr had forced onto Aloth's face was replaced with an agonized grimace as he wrested control back yet again. "You had no right! That decision wasn't yours to make, nothing in my life was ever supposed to be your decision to make!"

"And Awakenin' in a wee scrawny jessie li' ye were nae my decision neither! But am here fer th' duration, an' am nae jess gonnae lie doon 'n' let ye get us both dragged behin' th' wagon!" This, it seemed, was Iselmyr's final word on the matter, and at last she once again fell dormant, relinquishing the reins of Aloth's body back to him. He sat for a moment, trembling and sweating and catching his breath, his ragged panting the only sound in the tiny, stuffy room.

The drunks outside the Black Hound, the cult in the catacombs, his father's vicious assault– it was all clicking into place. Whenever the meek, mild Aloth was threatened or overwhelmed, the bold, brash Iselmyr sprang forward to take care of it in his stead, although it seemed she also got him into as much trouble as she got him out of. Iselmyr was just as fiery in her defense of herself as Aloth was in his condemnation of her, but the more she thought about it, the more Axa couldn't help but think Iselmyr was trying, in her way, to defend him, too.

"Belfetto," Bellasege chirped, breaking the silence as she bounded out from behind her scope. "Excellent work, gliente! I think I have more than enough to work with here." She whipped her sheaf of notes out theatrically in front of her, her eyes scanning back and forth over them as she spoke, jotting down corrections and addendums here and there. "The second presence in the subject's soul– Iselmyr, as she calls herself– manifested most intensely during the, ah, more heated portions of their discussion. Her essence coalesced in its greatest quantities here–" she thrust her quill at Aloth's chest– "in his left ribcage, near his spleen. Therefore, she is obviously triggered by the production of black bile in the spleen, no doubt due to the profoundly melancholic nature of the subject." Bellasege beamed with pride at her diagnosis. The rest of the room's occupants stared at Bellasege with incredulity, exchanged worried looks with one another.

"Then by your... uh, logic," Kana ventured dubiously, "removing his spleen should... cure him?"

Aloth glared at the woman, eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. "That... is utter horseshit," he spat, and Axa couldn't quite tell which of his body's occupants had used his mouth to say it.

Pallegina snorted. "That's one way to put it."

Bellasege's demeanor flipped in an instant. "Well! I'm certain you know exactly what's going on, then, given my extensive training in the animantic sciences and your having come to me for help. So do tell, Fentre: what is your theory?"

"I– You're seriously telling me to diagnose myself? Why did we even come here if you're only going to spout nonsense?" Aloth sounded more panicked than angry, and he turned to Axa in desperation, silently imploring her.

And she obliged, stepping between the injured animancer and her insulted subject. "If I may? I think, perhaps, you're closer to the truth than my friend is willing to admit, Bellasege." The animancer raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Axa to continue even as Aloth huffed indignantly behind her. "You were onto something when you suggested an emotional trigger for Iselmyr's usurpations, but from my experiences traveling alongside him and his retelling of his personal history– including the very illuminating account we've all just heard– I'd posit that Iselmyr tends to emerge when Aloth is in danger."

She half expected an argument, but both Bellasege and Aloth remained quiet instead, considering her words. "I... suppose that theory could hold some merit," Bellasege murmured after a beat. "You do know him better than I. However, I'll have to cross-reference it with other research, of course."

That seemed to shake Aloth out of his reverie, and he nervously began picking at the copper bands on his wrists. "That's all well and good for you, but I've waited fifty years for some answers. Can't you tell me anything now?"

"Aloth, this isn't the first time you and Iselmyr have spoken like this, is it?" Axa spoke softly, carefully. She had an idea, but she needed to ease him into it or he'd reject it outright.

Difficult, isn't he? Remind you of someone? The thought popped into her head as she remembered his hand, warm and trembling in hers, but she pushed it away.

He gave the little woman a guarded look. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I've been forced to be... discreet about her very existence up until now, so whatever disagreements we've had in the past have tended to be resolved quickly, by necessity. Not that it ever did me any good."

"But she has. You told me yourself your father was never violent with you again after Iselmyr gave him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe her methods aren't exactly what you'd choose for yourself, but you can't say she doesn't get results." Axa shrugged and gave him a hopeful little smile. "It might be worth it to... collaborate with her a little more. Let her in, try things her way."

"Yeah," Edér piped up, grinning, "she's alright. And if she starts somethin' you can't finish, you know we've got your back."

Aloth rose from the couch, rubbing his wrists and scoffing at Axa's words. "You wouldn't say that if you'd had to listen to her deranged ranting day and night for the past five decades." He cast a baleful glare at the discarded copper bands on the couch, but when he turned back to her, his face was thoughtful, sincere. "Regardless, this has been... quite an enlightening experience. In many ways. Thank you, Axa." He smiled at her, and her face went warm again.

"Ac, Tella Mala, agracima!" Not one to be ignored, Bellasege slapped her notes down on her desk and strolled over to her scope, preparing to disassemble it. "I'll be sure to make mention of your assistance in my report, send you a copy once it's published. Although unfortunately I will be unable to credit you as a co-author. You understand, of course."

Aloth's head whipped around to face her. "Report? Published?" He looked as though he'd just been sentenced to hang.

"But of course, Fentre Corfiser! This is science, not fun and games." She smiled at him like a cat with a cornered mouse. "You'll be the toast of Revua, rest assured!"

He balked, his face pale and drawn until a familiar crooked grin crawled across it. "Lookit ye there, shimmerin' star o' the soul sciences," Iselmyr quipped. "Jest whit ye've always wanted."

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #fic wip #cw child abuse #please let me know if i'm not doing that cw tag correctly #hoo boy this one's a doozy #in a good way though #anyway *puts aloth in a soft warm place where no one can ever hurt him again*#thanks for reading ♡

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crossbowking · 4 years

Text

Look After You

Summary: (Set in the beginning of Alexandria) After a supply run goes wrong, the reader is forced to face one of their greatest fears.

Request: “Hey! Glad you’re back and in the swing of things! Hope everything is well. How about number 15 from the recent drabbles list? Maybe the reader says it to Daryl after a close call where he put himself in danger to save/protect the reader? And maybe it can say “what the hell is wrong with you?” instead cause it sounds more angry or whatever. Idk I just think it would be something cool and I know you can do a great job bringing it to life. That is if no one has requested it yet. Thank you!!” @mikahowl

A/N: REPOST!!! I was a big ol’ dumb ass and accidentally deleted this story. Which means I also deleted all of your lovely comments. Ugh. I’m sad. :(

This oneshot is a bit lengthy, but I actually really love the way it turned out! There are some characters from Alexandria in this story that are actual characters in the show! Let’s see if you recognize any of them!

(Shoutout to @jodiereedus22 for her constant support and letting me run ideas by her! Check out her awesome work!)

Enjoy!

xx crossbowking

Masterlist

Tip Jar

The people of Alexandria were oblivious — ignorant, even — to the reality that loomed just outside their towering walls.

But regardless, when your group had first arrived at the Safe-Zone, each of you had made a promise to try — to try and live the way they did, to try and live as normally as possible, as though the world wasn’t crumbling around you.

Everyone in your group was doing their part, offering what they could to earn their keep, designated a role in the community by the town leader, Deanna. In the beginning, you’d been assigned to assist on supply runs with an established group inside the walls, led by Deanna’s son, Aiden.

But after a run went horribly wrong, everything changed.

Your group was still recovering from the loss of one of your own — Noah. Glenn was taking it especially hard, having witnessed the boy’s gruesome death. But after hearing what had actually happened, your group knew things needed to change — things needed to change and quickly if any of you stood a chance of survival.

After Aiden’s death, the responsibility to lead supply runs fell on you — and training the residents on how to properly scavenge became priority number one.

“Okay, are there any other questions? Anything you didn’t catch or want to hear again?” you announced tentatively, eyeing the lineup in front of you. “Anything at all?”

A group of four stood before you, all residents from Alexandria, all looking increasingly nervous.

“We just want to be thorough,” Tara suddenly spoke from beside you, addressing the group, attempting to ease their worries. “Even the smallest mistake can get someone killed,” she finished, her voice breaking off at the end.

You reached out, giving her hand a soft squeeze — Noah’s death had been hard on all of you.

“Seems like a lot more people have died since your group came around, don’t it?” Barnes suddenly called out. He was one of the residents — late twenties with tousled brown hair and a distrusting look in his eyes.

“Barnes —” another Alexandrian named Annie chastised from beside him. She was one of the more skilled when it came to supply runs, having been part of the initial scavenging group before your people joined Alexandria. She was in her early twenties, brunette with a slight frame but tough as hell.

“It’s okay, Annie,” you quickly interrupted, taking a step forward, locking eyes with Barnes. “What we’re trying to do here is prevent any more death — the only reason your people are still alive is because you’ve been lucky. Most haven’t.”

Tension hung between you before Barnes looked away, muttering something under his breath as he adjusted the rifle in his hands.

“We need to be in and out,” Tara finally continued, pushing past the uncomfortable atmosphere. “Big-box department stores like this don't tend to stay empty for long,” she explained, motioning towards the towering building beside you.

“And it’s pretty likely that most supplies have already been taken. So check in places you might not normally — underneath shelving units, behind registers, back of the house stocking areas,” you listed off the top of your head. “We grab what we can and get the hell out,” you finished with a nod. “Since the store is pretty huge, Tara will take three of you inside first to scope it out — take out any walkers, make sure there are no stragglers. The rest of us will stay outside to keep watch.”

“Well, w-what do we do if we find another survivor?” another one of the residents, Eddie, spoke — he was nineteen, maybe twenty years old, and scared shitless.

You sighed, sharing a look with Tara. “You just — just find one of us, okay? Make sure the person is unarmed, make sure they’re not a threat and —”

“A threat? You’ve gotta be joking,” Eddie protested, looking at the other residents for support. “Look, I shouldn’t be here — I-I just tend to the gardens. I don’t know how to ‘unarm’ someone. I can’t be here —”

“Eddie —”

“No — no, I can’t —”

“Hey man, you need to relax,” the fourth resident, Scott, intervened, placing his hand on the kid’s shoulder. He was in his forties and also experienced with the outside world — just like Annie. The two, along with another resident named Heath, would go on week-long supply runs for the community. He was a beast of a man — tall, broad, and built like a damn wall.

But Eddie quickly shook him off. “I just want to go home. Please, I-I just want to go home. I —”

“The hell’s goin’ on over here?”

The sudden gruff voice was like music to your ears, a wave of relief washing over you as the archer appeared from around the far side of the building, his eyes immediately finding yours. He marched forward, wordlessly eyeing the Alexandrian’s as he passed before halting beside you and Tara, looking at you expectantly.

You sighed, shifting your weight slightly. “We’re fine, we’re just — we’re just going over the plan one last time.”

Daryl regarded you carefully, not believing you entirely but also not pushing the topic further. “Perimeter’s clear,” he grunted, swinging his crossbow over his shoulder before turning to face the residents, scowl set firmly in place.

You took a breath. “Alright — Scott, Annie, Eddie — you’ll do the sweep with Tara,” you instructed, motioning the three forward. “And Barnes, since you’re used to guard duty back home and you’ve got the rifle, you’ll be with us,” you finished jerking a finger between you and Daryl.

“Awesome,” Barnes muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he walked away from the lineup and towards your group’s van, the one you’d parked by the building’s front doors.

You felt Daryl stiffen from beside you — apparently, you weren’t the only one who picked up on the attitude.

Scott and Annie shared a ready look, immediately making their way towards the building. Eddie, on the other hand, remained frozen in place, looking incredibly pale all of the sudden.

You sighed. “Eddie —”

But Tara quickly took a step forward, slinging her backpack over her shoulder before glancing at you. “I got it,” she reassured with a wink, moving towards the frightened boy without another word.

Eddie watched her approach, shaking his head slightly in defiance. “I’m sorry, guys, but I-I can’t —”

“Hey, easy,” Tara calmed, stopping in front of the boy. “Listen, kid, I know you’re freaking out. I don’t blame you. But you gotta get your shit together, okay?” she continued, reaching down to grab the empty bag at his feet, forcing it into his grasp. “You can do this — but you have to trust us. We’re in this together, alright?” she encouraged softly before holding her fist out in front of her.

Eddie eyed her nervously before his shoulders sagged, eventually giving in and connecting his fist to hers. He slung the bag over his shoulder, unsheathing his small hunting knife as he hurried to catch up to Scott and Annie.

Tara glanced back at you and Daryl. “Fist bumping — it always gets the job done,” she grinned, waggling her eyebrows as she jogged to meet up with the Alexandrian’s.

You snorted a laugh, shaking your head as you watched the group of four disappear through the front doors of the department store.

“Ya did good,” Daryl suddenly rumbled from beside you.

You sighed, turning to face the archer, giving him a skeptical look. “You think?” you asked softly, hoping you didn’t sound as self-conscious as you felt. “I don’t know — this is more of Glenn’s specialty. He’s better at this kind of thing — he’s also better with people, I might add,” you murmured.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed as he watched you, the intensity in his stare catching you off guard. “What’s wrong with ya?”

“What? Nothing,” you shot back defensively, wishing he’d stop looking at you as though he could see through you — past flesh and bone, into the parts of yourself you kept hidden in darkness, away from the world’s wandering eye.

“Bullshit,” he grumbled before you could spew any more lies. But when you opened your mouth to respond, another voice cut through the air.

“So, are we just supposed to stand out here with our dicks out or —” Barnes called snidely, leaning cooly against the van, rifle propped up against his shoulder.

You watched Daryl’s features darken, his head snapping in Barnes’s direction before he suddenly stormed forward. “Ya best watch that fuckin’ mouth a’ yours,” he growled, his threatening tone unwavering as the smirk etched on Barnes’s face dropped.

“Relax, man,” Barnes held his hands up, the sarcasm in his voice obsolete as he quickly straightened. “It was a joke, alright?” he huffed, eyes darting between you and the archer as he took a small step back. “Damn,” he scoffed, almost in disbelief.

But his words only riled Daryl further. You watched his head cock to the side as he jabbed a finger towards Barnes. “Ya —”

Before the archer could take another step, before he could hurl another definitive threat, you grabbed onto his arm. Daryl glanced down at you, the look in his eyes practically lethal, only fading once you shook your head. “Not worth it,” you murmured, just soft enough for him to hear.

Daryl held your gaze a moment longer before he pulled out of your grip. “Asshole,” he spat, his eyes like daggers as he shot Barnes one last hostile look before sliding his crossbow off his shoulder. He muttered another curse under his breath as he moved away, beginning to pace back and forth like a caged animal.

You exhaled heavily, letting him simmer down — you knew Daryl well enough to know when he needed space.

Barnes watched the interaction curiously and you found yourself fighting back the urge to smack the defiant, and slightly cocky, expression from his face.

Tara suddenly appeared at the front doors, stopping you from doing something you’d regret. She motioned Daryl over from where he’d stormed off to. “We’re all clear,” she announced, slightly breathless before she disappeared back inside the store.

You unsheathed the hunting knife strapped around your thigh as Daryl wordlessly stormed past you. Barnes moved forward after him, only stopping when you held out your arm. “What?” he questioned, a confused look flitting across his features.

“Not you,” you shook your head resolutely.

Barnes scoffed. “Are you kidding —”

“It’s not a punishment,” you interrupted, holding your hand out, giving him a pointed look. “I need you out here to keep watch.”

“Why me?” he demanded, clearly offended.

You felt your last bit of patience dissipate. “You know what,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “If you think you’re better suited to lead this run, then by all means —” you took a step back, extending your arm, urging him forward. But when Barnes didn’t move, you dropped your arm. “That’s what I thought,” you muttered, taking a step before pausing, eyeing the rifle in his hand. “And hold your fire — it’s for emergency only, okay? Emergency only. If that thing goes off, it’ll attract every walker within miles. Understood?”

Barnes looked as though he wanted to object, but after a moment, he merely huffed a breath and turned to face the parking lot.

You entered the store without another word.

The first thing you noticed was the smell — like spoiled meat and unwashed gym socks. You thought that after all this time you’d get used to the stench — but still, to this day, it had a funny way of taking you by surprise.

The store had already been ransacked — though you weren’t surprised. You hadn’t expected to find much — big-box department stores were the first to get looted when the world ended. You’d chosen this place as more of a trial run, to help the Alexandrian’s get a feel of how supply runs would work now that your group was in charge.

Your team worked quietly, efficiently, taking the building by storm.

It was easy.

Almost too easy.

You should’ve seen it coming.

Scott and Annie were making their way to the front of the store, empty bags now filled with supplies they’d found on a truck still attached to the loading dock. Tara and Eddie were sifting through an overturned clothing rack, shoveling clothes of all sizes into their backpacks.

And Daryl was standing on the opposite side of the store — looking at you.

You didn't understand why — why his expression twisted into one of panic, why your name fell from his lips in what seemed like slow motion, why the smell of rotting meat was getting stronger and stronger until —

It happened in the blink of an eye.

One moment, you were upright, watching Daryl in the distance as he took off into a dead sprint towards you. And the next, you were facedown on the floor, a heaviness pressing into your back, pushing the air from your lungs. A gnarled hand wound through your hair, the other grabbing onto your shoulder in a vice-like grip, yanking your head backward as a low growl sounded in your ear.

A cry fell from your lips as you twisted, stunned for just a moment before survival instincts kicked in. You braced one arm against the ground, pushing off and propelling yourself onto your side, knocking the walker off your back.

You didn’t waste another moment as you rolled away from the biter and jumped up, frantically searching for the knife you’d dropped, focusing only on the dead staggering to its feet. The walker lunged once more, but this time, you were able to brace your forearm against its chest, keeping its snapping jaws mere inches from your face.

You grunted under the pressure, feeling your arm start to give way, its teeth snapping closer and closer until —

You saw a glint of silver.

You felt cool metal press against the base of your throat.

You recognized the handle of your knife, the one you’d dropped moments ago, wrapped in another’s hand.

You heard the growling before you morph into something different, something hauntingly familiar.

“Mine.”

The low, hushed snarl stunned you into stillness, the sound shooting through you, feeling your blood run cold as you caught a glimpse of what exactly was in front of you.

Another survivor.

“Mine,” the man growled once more, pushing the tip of your knife deeper into your neck, your flesh splitting beneath the blade.

You grimaced, grabbing onto the stranger’s wrist to keep from screaming as your eyes frantically searched his.

He was covered in blood — some streaks fresher than others, spread across the naked parts of his face. His beard was tinged with grayness, curled and matted, hanging just above his chest. His teeth were bared like some sort of beast, crooked and yellow. But his eyes — his eyes you couldn’t seem to pull away from. They were wide and panicked — feral in the most animalistic way. They were distant, detached from any semblance of humanity as he neared closer.

You cringed away from the putrid smell he exuded, your dwindling strength no match for his barbarity.

“Get — out,” he growled between ragged breaths, his other hand tangling throughout your hair. “Mine — mine — home — get — out!“ he rasped, beginning to drag the knife’s edge across your throat.

But just as a cry reached your lips, suddenly, the man was gone.

You fell backward, colliding against the floor as chaos erupted around you.

That’s when you noticed Daryl.

He had the stranger pinned up against the wall, landing blow after blow, his movements fierce, precise, unrelenting. But then you saw something the archer didn’t — the man’s arm, raised high above his head, your knife in his grasp.

“No!” you screamed out, stumbling to your feet as the stranger plunged the knife down.

Except Daryl was quicker. He pushed away from the man at the very last second, just narrowly missing the knife’s blade — but the dodge threw him off balance, allowing the stranger a chance to land a solid left punch right against the archer’s temple, catching him off guard and sending him staggering away.

“Hey!” Tara suddenly appeared, distracting the crazed man, the rest of your group showing up right behind her.

The stranger let out a sort of animalistic shriek as he raised your knife, charging towards them without a second thought.

But before he could get close enough to attack, you heard gunshots.

Bang!

The stranger froze, stunned mid-strike, his body swaying slightly before his legs gave out, folding beneath him. The sudden silence was so deafening, you were sure the sound of your heart pounding was heard by those around you. No one spoke — all eyes trained on the kneeling man, blood beginning to drip from the corners of his mouth.

“Mine,” the stranger gargled between hitched breaths. “Mine — my — home,” he sputtered through the redness, his lips curling into a deranged grin as the light faded from his eyes. His body slumped forward, motionless, three bullet holes now torn through his torso.

As if on cue, everyone turned to look toward where the gunshots came from.

And there stood Barnes, rifle clenched in trembling hands, breathing slightly labored. “I — uh,” he stuttered, breaking the quiet. “I-I figured this — this would be considered an ‘emergency’, right?” he jumbled, any previous trace of humor gone from his tone.

Before you had a chance to speak, you felt a familiar touch — calloused fingers grabbing your chin, turning your face forward.

Your eyes fell on Daryl, now standing before you, his expression furrowed, eyes troubled as he gently tilted your head back. You winced as the slash on your neck stretched, his features growing stormy.

“U-Uh, guys?” Eddie suddenly whispered from behind Tara, breaking the stillness, his features growing increasingly pale. “I’m —”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off as the boy spun around and toppled forward, emptying the contents of his stomach.

You grimaced, squeezing your eyes shut — but then you felt Daryl’s grip move to either of your shoulders.

“Hey, ya alright?” he murmured, voice just soft enough for you to hear it.

Your eyes snapped open, but before you could respond, you noticed something that sent your heart plummeting.

A small gash just above Daryl’s right eyebrow.

It wasn’t a bad injury — not at all. You weren’t even sure if he knew he was bleeding. He’d sustained worse, you knew that. But the fact of the matter was that it could’ve been worse — it almost was worse. And that was because of you. Because he was trying to protect you.

And that was something you refused to be okay with.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you suddenly snapped, unsure where the abrupt fury came from — you hadn’t meant for the words to come out so harsh, but you also couldn’t seem to stop them.

The archer’s hands immediately retracted from your shoulders as he straightened, a look of confusion flitting across his features. “What?” he demanded, clearly taken aback.

“W-What — I mean, why would you —” you fumbled for the right words, feeling the anger in your gut simmering. You knew your feelings were being misdirected — but you couldn’t find it in you to stop. “What the fuck, Daryl?”

Daryl’s expression hardened as he took a step back, his eyes narrowing. “Are ya seriously pissed a’ me right now?”

“I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t need you to protect me!” you fired back, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“I jus’ saved your damn life, Y/N!”

“Yeah, and you nearly lost yours!”

Your words echoed throughout the store, the silence that followed incredibly vast as you stood toe to toe with the archer, your heaving breaths mirroring his.

It wasn’t until Tara spoke that you remembered you weren’t alone. “Uh, guys, we gotta — we gotta go,” she intervened, appearing between you. “That gunfire’s gonna draw walkers in from all around — we need to get these people home.”

Daryl held your gaze a moment longer before shaking his head, grumbling something you couldn't quite catch as he stormed off. He grabbed his crossbow off the floor, having lost it in the scuffle, before walking out of the store without another word.

“Y/N?” Tara murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze your arm.

“Yeah,” you breathed, exhaling heavily. “Yeah, I’m coming,” you murmured, forcing a small smile onto your face.

Tara nodded, handing you a worn bandana. You pressed the cloth against your bleeding neck, wincing at the contact as Tara turned to address the group. “We gotta move — let’s grab our stuff and get the hell out of here,” she called out, picking up her backpack and herding the Alexandrian’s out of the store.

A traumatized Eddie stumbled after Tara, sparing the unmoving stranger one last look. “This — this place was his home. H-He was just protecting his home,” he whispered sorrowfully before Scott placed a hand on his shoulder and helped guide him the rest of the way out, Annie close behind.

The store was eerily quiet — the only sound being your footsteps as you slowly approached the man. His eyes were open yet vacant, mouth unhinged in what appeared to be a silent scream. You reached down, pulling your knife from his limp grasp before gently pressing the blade into his skull.

You felt for the stranger — he’d simply been a man who lost his mind, desperate to protect what he felt was his. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, a heaviness settling over your chest as you pulled your knife from the back of his head.

You turned to leave, pausing when you noticed Barnes standing by the front door. He watched you approach, expression grim as his eyes bounced between you and the lifeless stranger.

“Hey,” you murmured, nudging him gently, waiting until he looked down at you. “It had to be done.”

Barnes audibly swallowed, nodding slowly as he glanced down at the rifle still shaking in his grasp. “I — I’ve never killed a person before,” he whispered gravely.

“I know,” you sighed, any feelings of frustration you felt about Barnes from earlier dissipating. “I’m sorry you had to be the one to do it.”

Barnes simply nodded once more before you motioned him toward the van, the rest of the group already inside.

Just as Tara predicted, you spotted clusters of walkers beginning to fill into the parking lot as you climbed into the back of the van after Barnes. But by the time the dead neared closer, your group was already peeling out of the parking lot, headed back to Alexandria.

The ride home was silent.

You tried to ignore the nagging in your chest every time you glanced at the back of Daryl’s head. Instead, you focused on the steady throbbing in your neck — that pain seemed to be easier to accept.

When you arrived back at Alexandria, Daryl hopped out of the van before it even fully parked, stalking off towards the house your group shared without another word.

“Want Denise to check that out?” Tara asked, motioning towards your wound, interrupting your inner turmoil.

“Oh, no,” you waved her off. “It’s okay — just a scratch,” you shrugged, walking side by side back to the house. But as you neared closer, the fear of confrontation stopped you short — you couldn’t be around the archer right now.

Tara’s momentum slowed as she glanced between you and the house before taking a step closer. “He’ll come around,” she suddenly murmured, her lips turning up into a soft smile.

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t mean —”

“I know,” she cut you off, taking another small step towards you. “He knows. He just — he was just scared, that’s all.”

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. “Daryl Dixon isn’t scared of anything,” you pointed out, only half joking.

But Tara’s expression didn’t waver, now looking more serious than ever. “He was today,” she remarked quietly before turning around and walking away.

You watched her leave, heading towards the house Daryl had entered moments before. Her words sat heavily on your chest, only furthering the existing guilt you felt. You couldn’t walk into that house — not yet, at least.

Night came quickly.

You’d volunteered yourself for guard duty, welcoming the isolation, desperately needing the distance. It was easy to pretend when you were away from it all — that the day hadn’t panned out as it had, that the world hadn’t completely gone to shit, that you hadn’t almost lost the last good thing in your life.

You welcomed the solace.

When the ladder leading up to the tower suddenly began to creak, you couldn’t help the burst of hope that shot through you. But it was Sasha who appeared, relieving you of your duty, and you immediately felt yourself deflate.

You walked back home with your head hung low. How could you have said those awful things to Daryl? What the hell was wrong with you? He’d saved your life and in return you — you’d hurt him. He didn’t have to say a damn word — you knew your words had stung. And now — now you had to make things right.

The house came into view, one or two lights inside still dimmed — but that wasn’t what caught your attention.

There, sitting on the front porch steps, was Daryl.

Even in the darkness, you noticed the way he stilled when you approached, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips. Your breath caught in your throat as you faltered mid-step, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. “Hi,” you whispered, your voice slightly hoarse.

Daryl acknowledged you with a short nod before taking a long drag, fiddling with the cigarette between his fingertips.

You sighed, slowly making your way towards the porch stairs. “Can I sit?” you asked quietly.

Daryl grunted a response as he exhaled the smoke — you chose to interrupt that as a ‘yes’.

You sat down with a huff on the opposite side of the stairs, resting your back against the railing. The silence between you was overwhelming — and part of you wondered if the archer could hear your pulse racing from where he sat. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words tumbling out of you. “I’m — shit, I’m so sorry, Daryl. I didn’t —”

“Ya don’t have ta’ do this,” Daryl interrupted suddenly, inhaling another puff of smoke before flicking the cigarette away. “Ain’t mad at ya or anythin’.”

You pursed your lips, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. “Doesn’t matter — I’m still sorry,” you shrugged, sighing softly.

“I couldn’t do it,” Daryl spoke after a long moment of silence, glancing over at you before turning to stare ahead.

“Couldn’t do what?” you pressed gently, hanging onto every word he said.

Daryl grumbled something to himself, almost like he was second-guessing speaking in the first place. You merely sat, still and quiet, giving him time to sort himself out. “I heard what ya said back there — ya don’t need me —”

“Daryl —”

“I couldn’t do it, alright? I couldn’t jus’ stand there an’ let that asshole do what he was gonna do ta’ ya,” he pushed forward, his words fiercer than before as he faced you. “Now, I heard what ya said — ya don’t need me ta’ protect ya, I know that. But that don’t mean I ain’t gonna do it anyways.”

You couldn’t stop the swell of emotion that rose, forming a clump in the base of your throat. You lowered your eyes, the archer’s intense gaze too much for you at that moment. There were things you wanted to say, feelings you wanted to share, but they all seemed to tangle up inside you. “You could’ve died,” you whispered, those three little words all you could muster. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “God, if anything ever happened to you because of me —”

“Hey,” Daryl hushed you, leaning forward a fraction. “I’m alright.”

You shook your head slowly, giving him a serious look. “It doesn’t matter — you almost died back there for nothing, Daryl.”

The archer regarded you curiously then, an honest look of confusion crossing his features as he watched you. “Wasn’t for nothin’,” he rumbled simply.

You held his gaze a moment longer before slowly scooting forward, closing the short distance between you. Daryl stiffened instantly, practically turning to stone as you slowly reached forward, waiting until he relaxed a little before pushing back the hair from his face, revealing the small cut he’d received earlier.

You gently cupped the side of his face, your thumb grazing just above the wound as your eyes locked with his. “What am I gonna do with you, Daryl Dixon,” you sighed softly, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

Daryl didn’t respond — simply melting into your touch instead.

You lowered your hand, closing the last bit of space between you before resting your head against his shoulder.

After a moment of stillness, you felt the tension within him give way, his cheek finding its way nestled against your hair.

And so you sat, interwoven around one another, guarding the only thing left in a crumbling world that mattered as the cool, calm night lingered on.

A/N: Aww...what’d you guys think? Was the reader justified in her reaction? How did you like that sweet moment in the end?

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heyitsani · 3 years

Text

When the Dark of the Night Comes Alive

Word Count: 9214

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Zombies? But you don’t really see them except one part

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Roy Harper/Koriand’r

Summary: It's been three years since the world went to hell and zombies became a thing of reality and not just fiction. While out on a supply run with his usual crew, Jason picks up a stray that will change the course of everything.

Notes: This was supposed to be for JayDick Week, but life happened and I wasn't able to finish it. It's still technically not finished since there's an epilogue coming. But I wanted to post those two separately. So here is the main part of the story. Enjoy!

Also, I did next to no editing on this. I'll go back and clean it up. So sorry for any mistakes.

You can also read it on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jayjay,” the familiar voice rasped. “Jayjay you need to remember, okay? Don’t forget.”

“Don’t forget what, Mama?”

“Don’t forget that the cure is in the blood. Don’t forget. The angels, they said it. They said you would know. You would do it. Don’t forget.”

“I don’t understand, Mama.”

“Don’t forget, Jayjay. The cure is in the blood.”

“Boss,” a firm, but quiet voice broke through the hazy dreamlike memory, a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. Blinking up, Jason let his eyes adjust to the dark room enough to see one of his men leaning over him. Since it was still night, that meant something had happened or was happening.

Sitting up, he ran a hand over his face. “What is it?” Kyle gave him a curious look before he straightened and glanced over his shoulder. “Rayner, the fuck is it?”

“Someone’s in the house.” That snapped Jason to full alert and he immediately stood to his feet, quietly grabbing his gun that was sitting next to his sleeping bag. “We didn’t engage, they’re in the kitchen.” Which meant they were probably hungry. Not surprising given the state of the world the past few years, but it was still a dangerous headspace to be in. Desperate enough and you would probably easily kill the first person who had food to steal.

He was curious how the person had managed to slip pass their watch, but that was a question for another time. First, he had to deal with whoever it was that had stumbled upon the exact house he and his crew were staying in for the night. Which meant he was walking down the stairs, trying to make no noise to give away the fact that someone else was in the house.

He gave a nod to Rose, who was crouched behind a chair in the living room, watching whoever it was with her gun in hand. And whoever it was had no qualms about being quiet because Jason could hear the person shoving things around as they searched.

With a careful click, Jason pulled the safety off his gun but keeping the barrel pointed at the ground, glancing around the corner to see the back of what looked like a man from the short cut hair in the back and the cut of his body hidden beneath the black leather jacket and dark jeans. From what he could see, Jason couldn’t make out any weapons and for that he was glad. He didn’t particularly enjoy fighting with those who were not infected.

“Show me your hands,” he growled, raising the gun to aim at the man who was crouched near the ground as he dug through a cabinet. “Now,” he ordered when the person made no attempt to move. There was a huff followed by two hands raising in the air, both empty. “Stand up and turn around slowly.” With a grace that Jason wasn’t sure he had ever seen before, he watched the figure ease themselves upright and spin slowly, as requested. And then Jason was face to face with the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

And he wished that were an exaggeration.

But the hair that was cut short in the back, hung in the man’s eyes in the front. Eyes that even in the dark, Jason could tell were a startling blue. Cheekbones that would probably cut glass, and miles upon miles of golden skin. And though the leather jacket added bulk to his form it didn’t take away from the lean, strong line of his body beneath it. It had been a long time since Jason had felt so attracted to someone right off the bat, but damn if he didn’t want to lower his gun just on the man’s looks alone.

“Who are you?” Jason asked instead of following his instincts. He had people to protect.

“Name’s Dick.” Jason waited for more, but when nothing else came he gave an annoyed sigh.

Dropping the gun down to his side, he clicked the safety back on but didn’t tuck it away like he would have if the threat were eliminated. He watched Dick regard his motions curiously, head tilting to the side. And though Jason dropped his weapon, Dick kept his hands up almost in appeasement. But something told Jason he didn’t exactly need a weapon to take down a man. “What are you doing here, Dick? Are there others with you?”

“I’d like to think it’s pretty obvious what I was doing,” the man said with raised eyebrows. “And as for the other question, just me. Been just me for a while now.” With narrowed eyes, Jason looked him over and wondered why he didn’t look worse for the wear then. He looked almost…healthy. It wasn’t how solos usually looked when they came across them.

“Suspect, Boss,” Kyle muttered behind him and Jason just grunted. He got what the man was implying, it was suspicious. But something told Jason to trust Dick. Something deep in his core said it was okay, just this once, to follow his gut. Not that his gut had ever been wrong in the past.

“At ease,” he called out to the three others in various places behind him. Tucking the gun into the back of his pants, he relaxed his shoulders and watched Dick carefully lower his arms. But the fact that he hadn’t dropped eye contact with Jason put the man at ease. He wasn’t looking for others to jump in and help him. Rarely did pairs or groups mean good people. Jason had never had luck with anyone riding in pairs or more. “I’m Jason,” he said, moving forward and holding out a hand. Dick took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake, Jason tried not to think about the power he could feel in the grip. Instead, he released it and turned to the others. “That’s Kyle, Biz, and Rose. Don’t let her name fool you, she’ll lay you out in a heartbeat.”

Dick gave the others a nod, eyes lingering on Rose curiously and Jason resisted the urge to sigh. Men always thought they stood a chance with her and then they realized that she was too big a handful for them. For once, he had been hoping to come across a man who didn’t look at Rose that way. He glanced over at Rose to see her watching him just as carefully.

“I know your father,” Dick said suddenly, and Jason whipped his head to look back at him, finding him still looking at Rose. Jason felt himself frowning as he turned to look at Rose again and found her standing there with wide eyes. Her reaction was curious enough but the fact that a supposed stranger had a connection to one of his crew, that was suspicious.

“Like I said…” Kyle spoke up before heading back up the stairs to most likely resume his watch from the second story window that looked out onto the street below.

Rose didn’t move for a moment and Jason took a step toward her but then she was brushing past him and heading over to the newcomer. Jason kept his distance as he watched the pair whisper to one another. He was tempted to move closer and try and catch some of the conversation, but he knew better than to push something Rose didn’t want to talk about. All he knew was her father and her were estranged and that he was “dead to her”.

He wondered what kind of relationship Dick had had with someone Rose so thoroughly hated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, Kyle said the stray you picked up should have a spotter.” Jason looked up from his work to see his best friend Roy walking into the lab. “Said he didn’t trust the situation that brought him to us. And said you went about it in a way that wasn’t normal for you. He also mentioned that he knows Rose’s dad, who none of us know anything about except that he’s bad news.”

“Oh, is that all Kyle said?”

Roy let out a snort and Jason just rolled his eyes. “I told him to fuck off and that you’ve never put this camp at risk.” Jason just shrugged, because what could he say? Roy was right. He wouldn’t risk the people they were charged with keeping safe. Not even for a pretty face. “But want to tell me why he thinks you’re thinking with your dick and not your head?”

“Cause I turned him down for a quick fuck the night before Dick stumbled into the same house as us and he’s pissed,” Jason admitted. Pulling his glasses off, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sat down on the stool behind him. “And I don’t want to hear it,” he said, pointing his glasses at Roy. Who held both his hands up in a placating motion, despite the amused twinkle in his eye. “Fuck you.”

“Oh, come on,” Roy laughed, leaning both his arms onto the counter where Jason had various vials and a few microscopes out. “I’m not that big of a dick to rub your face in the fact that I was right about him being a clingy bastard who doesn’t understand the no strings attached rules.”

“Fucking shit, Harper. Just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Nope.” Roy laughed and Jason shook his head, letting out a chuckle of his own. “But seriously, he’s acting like a jealous ex-lover and that means he picked up on something.”

Jason put his glasses back on and pointedly didn’t respond, leaning back to look at the slides on the scope in front of him before jotting down some notes in his notebook.

“Jay.”

“Fuck off.”

“He is definitely a good-looking man.” Jason continued to ignore him despite knowing he was playing right into Roy’s hand. “And helpful. Kory said he immediately jumped in to help with some of the new buildings and asked around to see how he could help the others.” Jason only grunted in response. He liked knowing the man wanted to pull his own weight without having to be asked to do it. “He also asked if he could be on the crew that goes out to scavenge next.” That was curious, enough so that Jason actually looked over at Roy. “Strange for someone to want to go out so soon, huh? Of course, it was only after hearing that you were the one who always lead those ventures.”

“Got a point here, Harper? I’m working on something for your wife, and I doubt she’d appreciate me taking longer because of you.”

Roy just laughed.

“Seriously, Roy. What are you implying here?”

“Just that maybe you should get out of the lab and take a walk around the East Bend. Might find something a bit more enticing than…Rayner.” And though the implication was heavy, Roy didn’t wait around to make sure Jason understood. He simply turned and headed back out the way he came, leaving Jason to wonder what the fuck he was thinking making Roy his best friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Supplies are good boss,” Kyle commented as he and Biz presented the checklists they were tasked with every week to make sure each division of the compound had enough to get them through the next month. Though it was overly cautious, Jason liked the men to check every two weeks to be sure everyone had what they needed. In the beginning there had been too many times when their supplies had run out and they had desperately gone on supply runs that had ended in someone’s death or near-death. They had come a long way in the three years they had been in this location.

But still Jason liked to be sure they didn’t get in a bad spot again. “What about Kory? Did she say she needed any supplies for the upcoming frosts? It’s getting to be that time of year and she needs to protect the plants on the West rooftop.”

“I can answer that,” a voice sounded near the entrance of his lab and Jason couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Dick filling his doorway. “Roy is currently helping reenforce the plant beds, but he and I have been building greenhouse structures to erect around them before the frosts actually hit. We should have them done in the next day or so.” The man walked further into the room and Jason ignored the way Kyle seemed to tense up next to him as he did.

Dick didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Whatever it was, Jason wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Instead he took the paper that Dick held out to him. “What’s this?”

“A list from Kory. She said you’d know what to do with it.” Jason furrowed his brow as he unfolded the paper and read Kory’s elegant handwriting. Fertilizer. Yeah, he definitely knew what she needed. He knew he had everything, but he was running low on a few things. And that meant a supply run in the next couple of weeks.

“Thanks Dick,” Jason gave the man a nod as he folded up the paper again and looked over at Kyle, who was watching Dick with narrowed eyes. Jason could see Biz regarding the interaction curiously, but knew the man would keep his thoughts to himself for the time being. “Rayner, we’re going to need to do a run in the next two weeks. You and Rose can plan out the route while Dick, Biz and I get the packs together.” That snapped Kyle’s attention away from Dick. And though Jason knew exactly what the man was thinking, he simply raised an eyebrow as a challenge.

“Sure thing. You’re the boss,” Kyle grumbled before grabbing the lists in front of his and heading toward the door. Jason sighed at the sight of Dick jerking when Kyle bumped into him on his way past, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.

But it was Dick’s reaction that was curious. The man watched Kyle go with a thoughtful look on his face before turning back to smile at Jason. “I could help him and Rose, if you like? Show them where I was before I found you all. There had been a few pods of infected that had infested some of the surrounding cities and towns.” And though Jason thought that was smart, he knew better than to antagonize Kyle that way.

“Nah, Biz and I could use the help. Packing for five is more complicated than packing for four. We’ll get started tomorrow. It’ll take Kyle and Rose a few days to get the plan worked out and I have a few projects to finish before we head out.” He waved the paper from Kory as proof. Dick seemed to take it all in stride, nodding and glancing around the lab.

“I’ll head back out then. Biz, Roy and I could use some muscle,” Dick smiled at the large man and Biz chuckled before clapping Jason on the back and heading toward the door. “See you later, Jay,” Dick called out over his shoulder as they headed out, sending a smirk to the man before walking out.

Remaining in his spot at the table, Jason sighed and shook his head. He wasn’t sure bringing Dick along on a supply run that Kyle was on was a good idea but he had to admit that he wanted the newest addition to join them. He had been enjoying the time he had been spending getting to know the raven haired man. The way it seemed like everything was a brand new experience and how he found joy in the simplest of things. It was a refreshing take on life, one Jason hadn’t seen in a very long time. And though Kyle was still trying his cards, Jason had to admit that his sights had settled on Dick and didn’t seem to want to stray.

Which made things a lot more complicated than Jason wanted to admit. The casual thing with Kyle had brought a mess to his feet. But he didn’t want casual with Dick. No, there was just something about the man that had him wanting to stay up late talking about the stupidest of things. Or laughing over more coffee with sleep-mused hair and wrinkles clothes.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted that with someone. It should have worried or frightened him, but it just made him hopeful.

“Eh Boss!” Jason sighed at the sound of someone calling for him from outside and pushed the thoughts of Dick away so he could handle whatever it was that he was needed for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason watched from a distance as Dick and Rose spoke to each other near one of the more abandoned areas of the compound. It had been a complete accident that he had stumbled across them, having just gone out for a walk around the perimeter for some fresh air after having been cooped up in the lab for the past couple of hours. It was late afternoon and the majority of the citizens of the compound were finishing up their daily tasks and preparing for dinner.

But Dick and Rose were clearly in a serious conversation.

And that made Jason wonder if this had something to do with Rose’s father. He hadn’t gotten the chance to bring it up to the woman when they had met up to discuss the next trip beyond the walls earlier. But he had planned on it before they had packed to leave. Because it the curiosity was killing him.

And he wanted to know more about something Rose always kept so close to her chest. No one knew anything about her family. Or her past before the virus. No one except Dick.

“Jason!” Dick turned, smiling brightly at him. Jason narrowed his eyes slightly and looked between the pair before raising a brow at Rose. He rolled his eyes when she shut her features down and went blank. The universal Rose sign that she wasn’t saying shit. “Enjoying some fresh air? Rose and I were just talking about the possibility of setting up a training ground out here. I saw Roy has some weapons that people might benefit in learning.”

Closing the distance between him and the two of them, Jason looked out over the open field. He had always assumed they would expand the gardens out here when they outgrew the rooftops Kory had established. But he could see the idea having merit. “I mean, you can ask him. It’s his specialty. He worked security before the outbreak and his adoptive father was big on the bow.”

Rose gave a grunt before Jason watched her and Dick exchange a look he couldn’t decipher and she turned to leave without saying anything to either of them.

“Is that really what you two were discussing?”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Not even close,” he said. “I just know Rose well enough to know she plays her cards pretty close to the chest. And the fact that you know her dad takes a little of that power away from her.” Jason watched Dick’s face darken slightly, his smile turning to a frown as the shadow passed over his features. “So, he’s really that bad.”

Dick pursed his lips and looked out into the distance, looking like he was considering how to answer that. “He is…he has caused a lot of harm. But the harm he caused was…” Dick paused and Jason wondered if he was about to be lied to. “It was how it was supposed to happen.” Jason frowned. How the hell was harm ever supposed to be what should happen? “It is hard to explain, but Rose is right to hate her father.”

“You know that makes absolutely no sense, right?” Dick hummed and turned, starting to walk back toward the main part of the compound. Jason took a moment to study the man before hurrying to join him.

“It is not my story to tell.” He wanted to growl in frustration. He just couldn’t understand why people couldn’t just say the truth and be done with it. “I will tell you my own experiences with Slade have been uncomfortable and ones I would very much like to forget ever happened. At his core, he has the potential to be a good man, but he has been corrupted and it has changed the man Rose knew into the man I know.”

And even though Dick didn’t say what he meant by the word “uncomfortable”, Jason had a pretty good idea what it meant. And it made his blood boil.

“I won’t push,” Jason promised as they made their way back into the center of the community, “but if you need to talk…” He saw Dick look at him out of the corner of his eye but kept his forward and allowed the man his emotional space.

“You are an extraordinary man, Jason Todd. You are a gift to this world.”

Furrowing his brow at the odd choice in wording, Jason looked over at Dick and found him looking skyward. The image he presented, head back with his raven hair having fallen out of his eyes and golden skin practically glowing under the late afternoon sun, Jason would have sworn he was angelic.

“Dick!” A voice from somewhere called out for the man, pulling both their attentions.

“Hey Tim,” Dick smiled before looking over to Jason. “I’ll see you at dinner, I’m sure.” Nodding his head in response, he watched Dick walk away to talk to the young man who had called for him. He observed Dick throw an arm around Tim’s shoulders and lead him away, chatting animatedly. Such a contrast to how he had been speaking with Rose just moments ago.

But Jason knew when he wasn’t going to get his way. So he told himself to drop it and headed back to his lab to get a bit more work in before the call for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have you ever tried drawing the blood of an infected?” Dick asked as he sat down across from Jason with his plate of food. It was such a random question, but something about it made him pause. Something familiar about it. Dick must have assumed his silence was confusion and waved a hand. “I mean, do you know what the disease looks like when you see it on a molecular level? Kory said you’re the resident expert on this sort of thing.”

Straightening up in his chair, Jason furrowed his brow. “It is and I have. I have samples of it in the lab. Something about what you said…” It was one of those moments where something was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t figure out what it was for the life of him.

But there was definitely something he was supposed to be remembering that lined up with this.

“Wow, I can’t tell you the last time I had pasta and meatballs,” Dick muttered, taking another bite of his food. When Jason looked at him, the man had a spot of sauce at the corner of his mouth and without pausing to think of how epically awkward he would make things, he reached across the table and thumbed the sauce away. It wasn’t until his thumb was in his mouth that he noticed Dick’s eyes had gone wide and a faint blush had spread across his cheeks.

“Uh…sorry.” Jason gave a shrug and ducked his head in embarrassment, cursing himself for not thinking.

He only looked up when Dick cleared his throat and reached for his drink. “So…the blood.” Jason nodded as he watched Dick drink his water, ignoring what the sight of the man’s Adam’s apple bobbing did to his stomach. Or lower regions. “Have you ever isolated the virus?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve got some slides. The thing is,” Jason latched onto the subject like air, “it needs a host. None of the cells have survived for long without blood to latch onto. It was one of the first things I tried to do. If I could isolate it then I could reverse it, right?” Dick leaned forward and nodded, listening more intently than anyone outside of Kory ever did. “But it dies too quickly to do it.”

He watched Dick’s eyes narrow and brows merge together, almost as if he was suspicious of something. But then the look smoothed out and he looked back down at his plate to fork another bite. “Well, have you ever tried to attach it to fresh blood? Like draw a vial of your own and see how the virus latches on? I’m not a scientist, but maybe it has more to do with blocking the progress than reversing the damage.”

The cure is in the blood, Jayjay.

Jason’s hand froze with his own fork halfway to his mouth when the voice of his mother filled his mind. For years he listened to her drug induced rambling about some cure and how the blood was important. He made promise after promise to never forget because the angels had told her that he needed to know that. That he specifically had needed to know the cure is in the blood. But why did Dick’s idea make him remember that?

“Jason?” Looking across the table at Dick, he found the man frowning in concern. “You okay? Did I step on your toes? I really don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s just something someone said once. Ignore me.”

Pushing to his feet, Jason shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I…” He glanced around the room for a head of fiery red curls, zeroing in on them at the far end of the room. “I need to go. Thanks, Dick!” He grabbed his plate and quickly handed it over to one of the people on kitchen duty for the day before rushing over to Kory. “I need you in the lab,” he breathed out, sending Roy an apologetic look for interrupting their dinner. The man just frowned, and Kory stood without questioning the request.

“I’ll take care of it, Babe,” Roy said when Kory went to pick up her tray. Jason started heading out as they said their goodbyes, knowing Kory would catch up with him.

“What is it that you need?” She asked when she appeared next to him just as he was heading outside. He shook his head, not sure if he even knew the answer to that.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of crumpled paper and a pen he kept with him at all times, and tried to write as he walked. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Dick just said something to me and I’m not even sure what it means. But I know it means something.” He scribbled a formula down and passed it over to Kory, who looked at it before looking back to him with a raised brow. “I know! I know it looks crazy, but maybe…”

He scratched the back of his neck as they walked, thinking of drawing his own blood and some of Kory’s to do a side by side. Maybe watching the virus latch to different samples at the same time would reveal something. But something inside him told him it had to be his own blood.

The cure is in the blood, Jayjay.

He knew his mother had told him that on multiple occasions, but how could she have known about all of this? She had died so many years before he had even decided to pursue biology as his field of study. There’s no way she could have. It didn’t make sense.

“I know your idea face when I see it, Jason,” Kory interrupted his thoughts. “You are rarely wrong when an idea hits you. Do not smother it because you don’t yet understand it. I trust your instincts. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Kor. This one is going to be a dozey.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” a familiar voice broke through his writing, pulling his attention from the calculations to see Dick walking into his lab. Jason couldn’t help but smile at the man as he made his way over, hands in his pockets and glancing around at all the various equipment Jason had out to run the most recent round of experiments. “It’s been a few days since I’ve seen you, so I thought I’d check and make sure you’re still being fed and watered appropriately as humans need to survive.”

Snorting out a laugh, Jason set his pencil down and removed his glasses. “Kory and Roy both make sure I get my three-square meals a day and stay hydrated. Though, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take over a shift or two.” Dick paused for a moment before continuing to close the distance between them, stopping on the opposite side of the desk Jason was currently using. Jason watched his eyes scan over the pages spread out over the desk, head tilting as he paused to read one in particular before moving onto the next. “Do you understand any of it?” He asked curiously.

Dick hummed and shook his head before leaning a hip against the desk. “I am not a person of science,” he admitted. Jason had a feeling that was the case, given the way Dick had presented him with the idea. As if it had been someone else’s and his imagination had just run with it. But he had been right. Or mostly right, at least. “The human mind is an incredible place, isn’t it? A mass of tissue and electricity running the show.”

Jason let out a surprised laugh. “That’s….that’s definitely one way to describe it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone put it so plainly.”

“But at the base that’s all a human is, isn’t it? Ruled by a mess of electrical currents up here,” Dick tapped his temple and flicked his eyebrow upward. Jason supposed he was right and gave a nod. It was curious when you tried to think about it, but he doubted anyone would ever really know how a human really functions at their core.

“Have you had success then?”

Looking down at his papers for a moment before looking back to Dick, Jason nodded. “Yes, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. There’s something in my own blood that seems to repel the virus. But when I drew Kory and Roy’s blood, the reaction wasn’t the same.” Jason shifted through his papers to find the ones where the findings were noted. “There is something within my own blood that seems to fight the virus. An enzyme maybe? I’m not sure. But if I can figure it out, I can try to reproduce it. And if I can reproduce it…”

“You can mass produce it.”

“Exactly!” Jason smiled, giddy at the prospect. “A cure. It could be a cure. Not for those who have already turned but for those who have been bitten? It could prevent them from turning. It could be a miracle.”

The smile on Dick’s face looked almost relieved and Jason wanted to question him about it, but then there was that fondness that had become so familiar in his gaze and Jason couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks.

“I suppose I should leave you to it then,” Dick spoke softly, his fingers tapping the papers in front of Jason. “You have a race to save.” Jason laughed and shook his head, the hope bubbling up inside of him at the prospect of being able to do this for humanity. “You’re a gift, Jason Todd. Don’t ever forget that.” And though Dick had said those words a few times before, they seemed to have a different meaning this time. Almost like Dick had known this would be the outcome all along. But the man was gone before he could bother to ask him about that comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How do you test it? Do we just have someone get bitten and then see if it works?” Roy asked as he zipped up Jason’s bag for the supply run that was leaving in a few minutes. Jason had been slacking on his pack but thankfully Roy had noticed and taken care of it, since Jason’s mind was obviously elsewhere.

With a shrug, Jason took the pack. “I have no clue. It works on the blood samples. The virus is completely gone on infected blood. But unless someone just happens to get bitten, I won’t have a human test subject for a while.”

“But it works on the samples?”

“Completely gone, Roy,” Jason confirmed. He pulled the pack onto his back and walked with his best friend over to where Rose, Biz, Kyle and Dick were waiting for him. “Like a fucking miracle. I almost want to get myself bitten to see it work in a human body. But from the samples, I’m not even sure the virus would work on me at all.”

“And it’s not fucking worth putting you at risk.” Jason knew Roy was right. Just the four people waiting for him a few paces away were enough of a reason. But they weren’t the only reason. Too many people counted on him for various things. And he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to lose what little family he had managed to patch together.

And he didn’t want to never get the chance to shoot his shot with Dick. Not that he had any plans on that account, but eventually. Once his mind wasn’t over occupied with this cure.

“Ready to go, Boss?” Kyle called out, looking at him impatiently. Jason rolled his eyes and gave a wave of his hand.

“Take care of them all while I’m gone.” Roy gave Jason a nod before they exchanged their customary hug.

Jason had fallen in step next to Dick when Roy called out, “Don’t get too distracted out there, Jay! You know what I mean.” When Jason turned and threw a glare at the man, he wasn’t surprised to see Roy laughing. So Jason simply threw a middle finger up at him and turned back around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dick! Oh god.” Jason went running the moment Kyle took out the last of the zombies surrounding him and Dick, who was now on his knees with a hand pressed to the junction of neck and shoulder. He had been too far away from the other man when they had ended up surrounded thanks to a backfire on the car Dick and Kyle were attempting to get running. Too far away to stop the zombie from sneaking up on the two men and taking a bite out of Dick’s shoulder.

Falling to his own knees, Jason looked at Dick with wide eyes. For having been bitten, the man looked far too calm. If anything, he just seemed annoyed. “Dick?” Jason rasped, reaching out to pull his hand away from the wound so he could see if it actually broke skin or not. Crimson red told him all he needed to know. “Fuck. Fuck! We have to go now. Can this drive?!” He looked desperately up at Kyle who had his eyes locked on the wound.

“Boss?”

“Kyle! Can the car get us back to the compound?”

“Yeah….but….”

Jason ignored whatever it was the other man was going to say and turned back to Dick, tearing a sleeve off his shirt and folding it up to press against the wound. “You gotta keep pressure on it. We’ll get you back home, to the lab. The cure works. I know it does. We’ll get it in you in time.” He grabbed Dick’s hand and pressed it back over the wound to hold the cloth down.

Dick looked at him with furrowed brows and tilted his head and the sigh made something clench in Jason’s chest. That weird confusion that Dick always seemed to have whenever something normal seemed to happen. “I’ll be fine.” Now it was Jason’s turn to be confused.

“You were bitten Dick. It broke the skin; we have to get you back. Come on,” he ordered, pushing to his feet and tugging Dick up with him. “Get the others,” Jason told Kyle who looked like he was about to argue with him. But Jason just growled out, “Now.” And the other man gave a curt nod before running off to collect Rose and Biz. “It takes at least a few hours for the fever to show up but we won’t be back to the compound before morning if we drive through the night. So you just…you gotta hold on, okay?”

“I promise I’ll be fine, Jay,” Dick spoke softly, his gaze taking an amused look to it. And damnit if Jason didn’t hate how not seriously he was taking this situation. “I promise.”

“You will be because we’ll get you back to the lab in time.” Dick smiled at that and sighed, leaving Jason to wonder what the hell was wrong with the man. This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t something they could just brush aside and yet he was acting like he wasn’t hours away from becoming one of them.

Like Jason wasn’t hours away from losing yet another person he loved.

“Boss,” Kyle’s voice broke through his internal panic. Turning to see the man standing a few feet away with Biz and Rose right behind him, Jason raised a brow. “Gotta talk to you real quick. They’ll get the car packed.” Jason huffed a breath out through his nose and followed the other man, glancing back at Dick to see Rose taking a look at the bite and speaking lowly to the man. Once they seemed to be out of earshot, Kyle stopped and turned to face Jason. And Jason did not like the look on his face. “We can’t take him with us. You know we don’t have enough time even if we had enough gas to get us through the night.”

“No.”

Kyle sighed and looked over Jason’s shoulder before looking back to him. “Jason, I know you don’t want to hear this. I know you want to save him. But what are we supposed to do when he turns in the middle of the drive? What then?”

“I’m not leaving him, Rayner. I can save him. I know I can. I have the cure. We’re wasting time discussing this. Let’s go. Now.” And despite knowing Kyle had a good point, he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Dick behind to become one of them. And he couldn’t kill him before the bite took just to put him out of his misery. Shaking his head, he turned and walked back to the car where Rose and Biz had already taken up two of the seats and Dick was leaning against the outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dragging Dick into his lab and shoving him down onto the exam table, Jason rushed around and gathered the supplies he needed to administer the injection. He didn’t know how Dick hadn’t developed the fever yet, but he wasn’t going to waste any time. Dumping everything on the table next to Dick, he tugged the leather jacket off Dick and pushed the sleeve of his gray shirt up.

“Jason, stop,” Dick spoke softly, ducking his head down but Jason ignored him. “Jay. Stop.” His voice took on a firmer tone and it was enough to cause Jason to pause and look up at him. “I’m fine. I don’t need this. Don’t waste it.”

Jaw dropping, Jason stood frozen with an empty syringe in hand ready to draw Dick’s blood before he injected the cure so he could have a sample before and after. “You are not fine! Why are you not taking this seriously?!”

He watched Dick sigh and moved back when Dick nudged at him so he could get off the table. Without dropping eye contact, Dick tugged the collar of his shirt away from where the bite was and revealed skin only blemished with dried blood.

But no bite.

“What?” Jason dropped the syringe and lunged forward to examine the skin more closely. “How is this possible? There was a bite here! We all saw it!” Kyle had told him to leave Dick behind for crying out loud. Looking back to Dick’s face, Jason shook his head. “This is not possible.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t. No one is immune! No one! We would have heard about it.” Dick frowned and Jason watched as he tugged his shirt off, revealing far more golden skin than anyone should have ever been allowed to have. And if the circumstances had been different, Jason would be thanking the powers that be for this display of a man. But he was freaking out. “Dick-what-?” He watched Dick move around the table and reveal his back, which was covered in the most beautiful wing tattoo Jason had ever seen. Brilliant white wings, so vibrant Jason wasn’t sure how the artist had managed to make it stand out so vividly on his golden complexion, that looked as though they had been dipped in blue dye at the tips and the color had crept up the feathers to fade into the white. And somehow the wings were drawn in such a way that they almost seemed to flutter with Dick’s muscle movements.

Then Dick’s long fingers were brushing up the back of his neck where three symbols were drawn and he was muttering words in a language Jason had never heard but thought felt right. But before he could dive into why that might have been, he was stepping back and grabbing the table behind him as a flash of white seemed to center from Dick and a pair of wings that matched the tattoo were springing forth from the man’s back. Jason gasped at the sight of the massive wings that spread out wide, as if stretching, and then relaxed as Dick turned to face him again.

“This is why.”

But Jason still didn’t understand. All he knew was that Dick suddenly had wings and Jason was questioning his sanity even more. Maybe he had been the one who had been bitten. Maybe he was losing his mind after all this time. But he could feel his heartbeat in his ears and that was enough to tell him this was really happening. “What are you?” He managed to gasp.

“I am Seraph.”

“You’re an angel?” Jason questioned, mind trying to grasp what was happening here. “Of course you are.” He thought about all the things that had happened since he had met Dick in that kitchen all those months ago. “So much is making sense right now.”

Dick tilted his head to the side and watched Jason as he processed. Jason ignored the man for a moment, stepping away from the table he had been clinging to so he could pace and process. The weird comments, acting as though he had never done common activities, or eaten certain foods. So much of it made so much more sense.

“Jason,” Dick’s voice called to him and Jason paused his pacing, frowning at the almost melodic sound of the man’s voice now. Looking over at Dick, Jason let his eyes trail over the expanse of the large wings behind him, from just brushing the floor with the blue feathers to standing high above his head in stark white.

But the sound of a door banging open stopped him from saying anything, pulling both of their attentions to Rose rushing through the door. “Oh!” She paused, eyes wide as she looked at Dick.

“Rose,” Jason stepped forward to keep her from rushing out of there because he got the feeling that Dick didn’t necessarily want everyone to know what exactly he was.

“So you told him. I told you you wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden much longer.” Stopping mid stride, Jason looked from Rose to Dick and then back again. Turning to look at Jason, Rose shrugged a shoulder and gathered up her hair, turning to show him the back of her neck. The symbols there were similar to the ones on Dick’s and Jason felt his world bottom out again. “I’m not Seraph, but I am Nephilim,” she explained as she dropped her hair and turned back to face him. “And so are you.”

He heard Dick sigh behind him, but Jason felt frozen again. He was what? She was what?

“I hadn’t gotten to that yet,” Dick murmured and appeared next to Jason. Allowing himself to be turned, Jason looked into the sapphire eyes he thought he had known so well. “What Rose is so tactlessly telling you, is that your father was like me. Just as her own father is Seraph as well. That is how I know him. He was close to my ranks before he fell.”

Rose’s snort was telling. “He didn’t fall. He plummeted.”

“Wait, my father?” Jason thought of the man he had known. The drunk who beat his mother until Jason was old enough to pull the man’s attention from her to himself. He remembered waiting each night for him to come home and lay into him. Until one night he stopped coming home. And neither he nor his mother ever knew what happened to Willis Todd.

“Willis was not of my ranks but was tempted to fall by a very bewitching demon. He promised him power and wealth. But gave him neither,” Dick told Jason, placing both his hands on his shoulders. “We are not meant to sire children with mortals because the transfer of power can have detrimental effects on the human who carries the child. Your mother was addicted to drugs, was she not?” Jason nodded. “That was how she drowned out the voices. The ones who whispered about your destiny. Rose’s mother…”

“She died of cancer.” Glancing over at her, Jason tried to read her expression but wasn’t sure what it said. The woman was so good at keeping her emotions to herself, he always failed to really grasp what she was thinking.

Looking back to Dick, Jason furrowed his brows as he tried to comprehend what was being told to him. “I don’t have the symbols,” was what his brain decided to spit out instead. Dick smiled and he could hear Rose chuckle next to him. “What?”

“They are not something Nephilim are born with on the surface. You have to bring them forth,” Dick explained. “The creator gives them to their Seraph, but only a Seraph can show a Nephilim how to bring their own forth.”

“Wait. What do you mean my destiny?” Jason demanded, mind finally grasping onto that piece of information.

He watched Dick sigh and send a look to Rose that had her rolling her eyes and leaving without a word. Or sound. Jason made a mental note to ask her about that skill. “It’s time we have a very serious talk, Jason. Shall we go somewhere we won’t be interrupted again?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So let me get this straight,” Jason said, pacing the length of his room as Dick sat leaning against the headboard of his bed. “Rose’s dad is the one responsible for the virus? The creator told all of you that one would need to fall and release the virus in order to save humanity?”

“In the broadest of terms, yes.”

“How is killing us like this, saving us?”

“Your planet was dying. It would not survive much more in way of population. Your atmosphere had begun to crumble, and drastic measures were needed.” Jason scowled at that. How could Dick just be so blasé about the death of billions of people? He’s not human, a part of his mind reminded him. But even though he only had Rose to compare to, Dick seemed more human than Rose. “Some of us were against the idea. That there had to be another way, but Slade volunteered before the discussions could go further.”

Shaking his head, Jason paced the length of the room one more time before dropping down in the chair at his desk. “This is a lot.” Dick nodded but remained silent and Jason was thankful. Because even though he was glad Dick was answering his questions, he didn’t want the man to try and sway his opinion into the positive side of things just yet. He needed to examine the situation from all angles. He needed to see all possible outcomes to this before he came to a conclusion. “Was it part of the creator’s plan for you to find me?”

“No.”

Jason waited for more, but when he was met with nothing but silence, he looked at Dick with a raised eyebrow. But the man, angel whatever, seemed to miss what he was silently asking him to expand upon and it just made Jason sigh. Almost in fondness. Almost.

“If it was not in their plan, why are you here?”

“I broke ranks because humanity has suffered more than enough, and you are the cure to that suffering.” He watched Dick sit up and look at him seriously, almost uncomfortably so. “I have watched you for years, since before the outbreak. I knew of you long before you were even born. I have been tasked with protecting humanity for centuries because our creator is not the “God” so many believe in. They are kind, loving, and they do not require worship or devotion. But they also want you to have the will to choose what path you take.

“You are a good species at the core, despite those who have been whispered to by the demons of the world. You would have come across the answer for the cure on your own, but it would have been a few years from now after having lost far too many and those closest.” Jason’s mind flashed to Roy and Kory, knowing that’s exactly who Dick was referring to. Deep in his soul, he knew it was them. And he couldn’t help but feel so incredibly grateful that Dick had gone against his kind to prevent that. “You have lost enough. Everyone has lost enough.”

Taking in the words, Jason dropped down into his desk chair with a sigh. It was a heavy weight, knowing that he had been the key to fixing this all along and that if Dick hadn’t prompted the idea that day in the mess hall then he would have taken a while longer to figure it all out. He could have saved millions but he was supposed to have allowed countless more die before he made the sure. Dick allowed that. Dick disobeyed his orders because he didn’t want anymore suffering, he didn’t want Jason to endure anymore suffering.

Dick had chosen him over his own kind. “Will you be punished?”

“Perhaps,” Dick shrugged. “But perhaps mercy shall be gifted to me because I wanted mercy for mankind.”

Jason didn’t like the idea that Dick could be harmed because he had chosen kindness over indifference. He didn’t know what it meant to be Seraph and how it impacted basic human emotions and instincts, but he knew Dick. And he knew Dick loved people. The way he laughed with Tim while they discussed various topics. The way he worked with Kory in the gardens, singing soft songs in a language Jason now knew to be angelic. The way he walked side by side with Roy and discussed the best way to protect those within their gates and walls. People he was now invested in just as much as the rest of them.

“And if you aren’t granted mercy?”

There was silence and Jason watched Dick sit there, eyes narrowed and a furrowed brow marring the beauty of the angel. “Then I suppose I will be left to walk the earth among the people of this planet and protect you from within your ranks.” The lines smoothed out on his face and Dick gave him a smile that was brittle, but honest. “I do not feel my duty will change should the creator choose to remove me from my service to them. I will still wish to protect those who cannot protect themselves. It is all I have known.”

“You will always be welcome here,” Jason offered without pausing to think about it. If he thought about it, he would never say it and regret would burn bright. “With me.”

He tried not to fidget under the intense gaze that Dick turned on him, but it was difficult. The depths of the sapphire eyes spoke volumes and while Jason loved to look at them, the intensity made him a bit nervous. “Despite the lies?”

“I don’t appreciate the lies, but I understand them. Well,” he let out a chuckle, “as best as my human mind can.”

Dick’s smile was almost blinding.

“Your mind can understand much more than even you will ever know.” The blush that colored Jason’s cheeks was no something he was proud of, but he knew it was something he couldn’t exactly control. “You are a gift. Don’t ever let anyone try to tell you differently, Jason Todd.” He had gotten used to hearing Dick use those words in his regards, but now he supposed he finally understood exactly what it was he meant. He was a gift, or his blood was.

“What happens now?” Jason asked curiously, watching Dick lean back against the headboard again. Jason let his eyes trail over the other man, enjoying the sight of him so comfortable in Jason’s space. It felt right. It looked right.

But the look on Dick’s face pulled him out of those fuzzy thoughts. “I need to go.”

“What?”

“Now that you have uncovered the cure, I need to return to my ranks. I need to face my punishment, if there is to be one.”

But Jason didn’t want him to leave. Not when he still hadn’t gotten around to making any kind of move. Could he really just let Dick walk out of his life, potentially for good, without even trying? Did Dick even have any interest in him? Was he just seeing things that he wanted to be there.

“I would like to stay though. I would abandon my ranks for good, if I could convince myself it was the right thing.” Dick’s gaze turned to Jason and he found himself getting lost in the intensity of the sapphire eyes. Intensity that told Jason he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t imagining things and he wasn’t the only one who wanted. “I will return though. If you’ll have me.”

Nodding, Jason tried to say something in response, but he couldn’t form the right words. Not when those eyes were still looking at him like that. Not when his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was certain it would either burst from within or Dick would point out how loud it was.

“I will be gone before morning, but I will be back.”

And Jason hoped that Dick wasn’t just telling him that to make him feel better. He really hoped it.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #roy harper #koriand'r #kyle rayner #rose wilson #slade wilson #tim drake #jaydick zombie au #angels/demons

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