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mandalhoerian · 1 year

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NO TIME TO DIE | leon kennedy x oc | 5

pairing: leon s. kennedy x oc word count: 14K~ warnings: themes of suicide, losing a parent, negative thoughts, humor as a coping mechanism, descriptions of gore and violence, birkin fight, hypoglycemia, allusions to past child abuse. Irons lmao chapter summary: Vera is ripped from her denial about Marvin's condition and has a mental breakdown over losing him, Leon and Claire have to pick up the pieces where she can't. After all, this is no time to die. There is no time to die. READ ON AO3 ! CH. 6 ☆ NO TIME TO DIE MASTERPOST

Had she been an animal, she would have torn the iron and stone down with her bare punches. It was only a fucking door buried six feet under, doors were made to be opened. But this was Vera’s own special grave perhaps, gifted by all the bodies she had put underground —

(because if they were condemned to a hell so undeserved, she also had to lose something to preserve the balance; so they would gift a tragedy to her in comradeship, in the kindest good spirit they could conjure up)

— but what use were her hands if she couldn’t use them to get rid of a simple obstacle such as this? She should be able to dig her way back up, that’s what these were for, yet she could do absolutely nothing. Nothing.

Vera Kaplan was useless for the first time in her life.

She didn’t register the pain of little papercut-like sores opening in her hands, and the pulsing ache in the bones of her fingers the more she kept banging on and rattling the iron gate, and slamming her palms on it interchangeably. A repeating, broken record played from Vera, the single pitiful thing coming out of her mouth being, “Please open the door,” — and its other iterations.

She had lost her voice, pushed away the gentle hands that tried to pull her back, entirely deaf to the consoling voices trying to reach her or reason with her. Vera couldn’t even hear them at all. She had to get Marvin to open this up and join them, he couldn’t stay behind. Why would he stay behind?

From the small window just above her eye level, when she stood on her tiptoes she could see into the main hall, and the tiny back of her father turned away from the passageway as he sat slumped over on the couch, not answering her whatsoever — the only audible noise being his loud and shaky breathing and the faint whimpers of pain.

Why won’t he look at me? Why won’t he answer me?

Why is he abandoning me?

Some other part of her wasn’t registering the situation at all, entirely contrasting the panicked breakdown of her body. It was that of a kid who had come back home from school and was waiting for her father to get the door; because that door had never been left closed before to shut her out from the house no matter what kind of shit she’d gotten herself into.

That door would always open to reveal the welcoming of a smile, a hug and a hair ruffle, the unique smell of home would envelope her within the arms of one person.

“Marvin, I'm not going anywhere until you open this!” She struck the door with an open hand, a strong sound resounded back in the narrow corridor down the stairs ringing in her ear. Her jaw clenched and unclenched. “I won’t. I will cement myself here and wait and not even one of god’s angels coming down will move me to some bullshit salvation! You understand!? I’m not fucking leaving you here! I don’t know what possessed you to think you could will me away if you locked me out, because I refuse to be the subject of some heroic sacrifice. This isn’t fucking fiction, I’m not leaving my goddamn father behind!”

All energy was sucked away from her lungs as she heaved for a second, the surroundings in deafening silence as the only answer she got back was the lingering echo of her begging.

Vera had been begging and begging for what seemed like forever.

To a wall. To a literal wall. She couldn’t even see Marvin if she didn’t exert herself to reach the tiny barred window above.

Then came the tipping point. The last drop on a glass about to overflow.

A wrath nothing like she’d experienced before broke out of her. Ripped its way out.. “LOOK AT ME!”

But there was something behind that scream sizzling with anger, something taking cover behind it. Its name was grief — desperation, nothing more than a trapped woman aimlessly tossing explosives in a battle of soldiers she’d got caught up in, terrified for her life, alone, and helpless.

Terrified.

Leon’s voice crept into her mind when she least expected it. He is scared too, Vera. Terrified, even. When you're hurt to that point, all you can think about is death. He fears what will happen to you if he dies. That's why he's frantic. He can't be strong for you, so you have to be strong for him.

Marvin looked so small.

A strange sensation of undisturbed stillness before the storm came over her like deep sea waves. “Do you really want it to end this way?” Her fingers gripped the bumps on the ornamental fence gate like her life depended on it. “We’re just going to separate like this? You’re going to leave me thinking you’re saving me when it’s the cruelest thing ever to do to yourself? I’m supposed to accept you basically committing suicide and move on when you’re this scared?” Marvin’s shoulders shook, the only reaction she’d gotten out of him this far, and so did her heart shake with him. “I know you don’t want this, I know you don’t! So please just let me—”

“There is no other way.”

Vera thought she’d imagined it at first. After that much time spent on throwing down rocks into a bottomless well, it was unnatural to hear something back, almost like a mirage you knew wasn’t real.

“God knows I want nothing more than to come with you,” Marvin said weakly, she could barely hear it from how low it was coming from the considerable distance between where he was and the passageway, but he was trying to be loud — his speech was strained past the controllable point, it shattered her soul. “But I can’t. You know why. I can’t do that to you.”

Just hearing his voice got tears welling up in her eyes. The blindfold denial wrapped around her vision was loosening, but she desperately held it up even when the knot was slowly unfolding.

“I don’t know why you would say that.” Her arms were trembling, and so were her hands, she didn’t know if it was what settled after overexerting the limbs until they couldn’t anymore. A winter chill had spread around inside Vera, she was breaking out in a cold sweat. “You’re hurting both of us right now, c’mon, you’re saying you want to be with me, so be with me…”

Him turning around and dragging his body forward to sit at the edge of the couch to face their direction was an expectation-fueled flicker of burning hope against the wind, Vera could fly off from where she was. But he didn’t stand up, or move to come their way, Marvin couldn’t see Vera from the tiny opening of the window below, but she could. He’d done that so she could see him.

He was blinking, using every muscle surrounding the area like he was trying to get rid of a vision. He shook his entire body to refuse that. “This is how it needs to end, honey. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t want it to be like this. I didn’t want to do this to you. Forgive me.” His voice was unrecognizable, fluctuating, fading away. “I can’t…”

Vera felt like he had slapped her, harshly biting down the insides of her mouth to keep the burning of her eyes at bay, drawing blood. She couldn’t stand seeing him like this.“You don’t have to do this alone. Da—”

“You know what’s happening!” He screamed, the sentence cracking and shattering at the end. “You know how this ends! Leave!” He slumped sideways, his head resting at the back of the couch, holding his side, limbs shaking. “Save yourself. Do this for me. Please.”

The blindfold fluttered away, disappearing in the darkness, no way to get it back anymore. Vera could only grab at the air after it like some toddler.

And she was left standing alone in a void of her own making. The residents of her heart came to a still, the pipe dream and the problem solver forever silenced, as the one hidden in the shadows emerged — the doomsayer, not mocking them with “I told you so”s nor languishing about why they hadn’t listened to her in the first place. She just wordlessly mourned, they saw where her eyes were supposed to be was hollow, shriveled and dry flesh glistening with tears. All stories she would tell ended the same, and the sadness that followed still tasted the same as the saltwater streaming down her face — not dulling and never going through flavor exhaustion over the years. Knowing the end didn’t make it less bearable.

Funeral bells rang from afar.

Her heart slammed itself against her ribs like a mad animal.

They somehow had the exact same sound.

“No, you’re not saying… No.” All color drained from Vera’s face, her knees were shaky, she stumbled — almost slipping down and falling from the top of the stairs she was standing at. “No, you’re wrong, this isn’t right. You’re gonna be okay, c’mon, just open this and—”

Thump.

“It’s too late. I tried, Vera… But I couldn’t stop it, even with all you’ve brought for me. I can’t stop it.”

Thump. Thump.

“You and I both know... what comes next. I don’t want you to see me that way. I don’t want your last memory of me as… that.”

Thump. Thumpthump.

“Leon, if you’re there and listening… We can’t let this thing spread. It’s on you now. Remember your orders… Just go…”

Silence again.

Thumpthumpthumpthump—

Vera’s bowed head met with the solid iron plate of the gate, and she started hitting her forehead against the metal in a slow pace, chewing her bottom lip to try to contain the trembling. The inside of her head was television static. Blank.

Empty.

All of a sudden, a feather of a weight tentatively settled on her bare shoulder, awfully warm, and she jumped out of her skin, turning around in a flash and slamming backwards into the corner of the door and the wall of the passageway meeting.

Leon had his arms up in surprise, just a step down from her in the stairs, round azure eyes reflecting a deer caught in the headlights. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…”

With a heart beating furious enough to break her rib cage and start running far away from here, Vera said, “Don’t. Sneak up on me,” a hand on her chest like she wanted to keep it where it was.

In the half-light reaching from the inside of the office below, Leon was an apologetic spirit— unmoving and phantom-like with how he whispered. “I was calling for you but I don’t think you heard…”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Leon lowered his hands, fingers flexing in his gloves restlessly by his sides, his boots made some squeakings in the corridor as he shifted his weight around — a knot coiled around Vera’s stomach the more she kept looking at his face contorted with pity, her brow furrowing as she focused on a place somewhere just above his right shoulder, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears.

She had decided.

“You guys can go ahead.”

He flinched ever so slightly. “What?”

Vera waved him off. “Go. Leave.”

“What do you mean get out of—”

“Should I go invisible to be clear enough?” She snapped, bringing the mean out. “What part aren’t you getting when I say get the hell outta here?”

“Without you?” Leon’s jaw flexed. “Vera, I’m not leaving you.”

He was so sincere — so otherworldly kind.

It was wasted on Vera.

(Did she really have to throw rocks at the dog for it to finally leave and not follow her anymore?)

“Well that’s too damn bad. I’m not leaving my dad here either, so the only thing you can do is get Claire to safety at least, I know you got some sorta savior complex going on and that should satisfy it enough, Officer Kennedy.”

That was supposed to hurt him. It was ammunition prepared for Leon, so why did he look like Vera was hurting herself instead?

“Don’t do that.” Leon quickly shook his head, a stern crinkle on the bridge of his nose. “Don’t shut me out. What did I say about doing this together? We’ll figure something out. Let me help.”

Vera smiled, it was bitter like the bile that had raised from her stomach; she shrugged, opening her arms a bit to vaguely gesture to nothing. “There is no help anymore. There is nothing left.”

In the right-handed shove she’d given to Leon’s left shoulder that knocked him one step down, there was barely any antagonism and force. “Just fuck off from here, go. Enough courtesy and cop duty shit—”

He’d caught her wrist with his left hand before she could pull away, holding it in the air right beside his neck, it was grounding, stable, determined. “Has it ever occurred to you that I simply care about you?” Leon lowered their intertwined hands, giving it an encouraging, friendly squeeze. There was nothing more scary to Vera than the harmless nature of it, she couldn’t tear her surprised gaze from the sight. “And that I just don’t want to leave you behind?”

A forced laughter puffed out of her, despite him playing her heartstrings like a harp. “We just met, you don’t even know me.” She pulled her hand off his grip, trying to stay unfazed by his disappointment. “I can’t be that important. We survived together for a while, and sure, I was useful and you might have needed what I could offer, but come on—”

Anger flashed in his eyes, and his whole face followed suit, the sharp lines getting more prominent and reminding Vera that Leon could come off as intimidating with how he actually looked, and it shocked her — it shouldn’t have, it was what she’d aimed at, but it looked so foreign on him, as if someone had imagined this non-confrontational and well-meaning friendly guy getting angry in their mind and tried to paint how he’d be like.

“I’m not doing this because you’re some kind of tool to me, stop!” Leon climbed the steps between them in the blink of an eye, with such vehemence it was almost marching — and he stood just beside her at the top of the stairs, facing her head on. “I don’t need a reason to care, Vera, I just do. And I want to help.”

The compassionate and benevolent meaning of his words got lost on Vera due to the intensity they were told through.

“What help?” Vera spat out harshly. “Can you somehow stop him from…” Her voice betrayed her, hoarse from all the screaming and snuffing out just before the word she didn’t want to say out loud. “Turning?”

It fell between them like an unignited, ticking time bomb, whatever anger that held him by his strings dissipated, making his shoulders sag. “I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She swallowed, her tongue like paper, turning away from him and the light coming from below, staring hollowly at the gate. “Save yourself for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re sounding like the lieutenant, you know that?” She turned away yet again, looking to her left directly at the wall upon his persistence, this was as far as she could to block him off. “What you’re reprimanding him for, you’re doing right now. So maybe you understand him after all.”

“That’s…” Her exhale quivered, she had shielded her face away just in time to hide away the crumbling, the falling apart. But her voice couldn’t. Did she have to? Was that kind of thing important now anyway, past the point of no return? “Does that matter anymore? I’m losing — no… I’ve lost everything.” She whipped her head back to him, letting Leon see the entire ugliness. Fine. Let him see. Let him look. Maybe then he would understand. He was only a wavering blur behind the layer of her tears. Her whole face was burning up. “Everything! Do you think any of this matters to me?”

“Vera, you can’t do this—”

A loose cannon, she began to come down on him like a ton of bricks. Leon backed off immediately, going down the stairs backwards the more she walked up to him just as a bull seeing red. “I don’t care! What about you, huh?”

“Vera, please—”

“When are you going to drop this charade that you care so much?” She didn’t stop even after they reached the bottom, and kept forcing him to back away. In the corner of her eye, Claire was in front of a stack of books fashioned from white iron just to the side when they entered the golden-lit office.. “Are you that bent on doing the right thing or whatever the hell it’s called?”

Eventually, Leon’s hips hit the edge of the desk behind him and he staggered and held on. There was nowhere to go anymore, no more space left to hinder Vera from getting right up in his drought and stressed face, only inches between them, noses almost touching, as she let her eyes do the talking. “I don’t want it — go your own way. You’re a good cop, I get it, I understand. You’ve proven yourself to be a splendid rookie. You can go now.”

His eyes were everywhere in her face, not knowing where to look or focus on— but that panic from Vera’s intimidation method didn’t last long, he was composed enough to re-catch his train of thought. He seemed to remember he was built like a tank. “I just told you why I won’t leave, you hear but don’t listen. Or maybe you don’t want to, I don’t know. It’s not important.” He gave her the puppy eyes. “We can still get this open. You can be there for him—”

Tongue-in-cheek, she closed her eyes a bit long to indicate her annoyance. “Don’t patronize me—-”

“Will you just hear me out?” He pushed himself off the desk, stood taller, somehow able to force her back just a few inches that allowed him to breathe. “I know how crushing it is to be unable to reach someone suffering right in front of you, I know you’re grieving and I don’t mind you turning it into anger and taking it out on me—”

“Choose your next words very carefully, Leon,” she said in a low warning, and dared him to do so.

A tense quiet befell them, in which the only things exchanged were breaths from both of their personal space, Vera could even hear him swallowing hard. He searched for something in her, intimately — and seemed to find it, the change threw Vera off and the weird electricity of that moment got all the hair on her body standing up. It made her want to get off his orbit and pull away, but she couldn’t let herself give up first in this standoff, no matter how suddenly uncomfortable she’d become.

“This is no time to die.” He took one step forward, and Vera had to withdraw, muscles all locked up from the soft perseverance mingling with the pleading underneath from Leon. “There is no time to die, Vera. You can’t be letting go like this. Do you truly understand what I mean? Do you remember what I told you?”

“Of course I do.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t blame you for losing sight of it, you’re hurting.” Leon took another step, and Vera took a couple back, putting considerable distance between the two. Her bitterness over having lost control of the situation was clear as day.

One tiny part of her that had listened to Leon questioned what she was doing. Did she even know? What was she even up to? What was happening?

All the eyes on her had her shrinking like she’d drunk that potion from Alice in Wonderland. Looking back at Claire proved it — they both felt sorry for her and she hated it. It was pure emotion that had the reins of her body, instant backlash to stimuli, because it was safer that way, perhaps. action and reaction coming easier to her than being left alone with herself in existential dread of losing Marvin. Yeah, she hated being at the center of pity, and that she wasn’t in her right mind so it was essential for them to coax her along like a feral stray, and that’s what the anger wanted to lash out at.

Vera wanted it to stop. She wanted all of it to go away.

“He’s scared. You’re hurting him by being like this.” Again, that stance was like he was approaching an undomesticated cat to rescue it off the streets. “I want to help your father. Be it in his… final moments. Let me.”

One detail in what he was saying hotwired her brain. Final moments.

The inflammable anger didn’t respond, the fire was out, exhausted in mere seconds. That got her to slowly retreat, eyes landing on Leon and Claire frantically as if she’d seen them for the very first time in her life. “Final moments?” She tried laughing like it was a cruel joke, but it was a broken, frail thing. “Final moments..?”

Reality was a landslide that took Vera down with it, waves of a storm that washed over her and filled her lungs the moment she resurfaced to breathe.

“No. No.” She turned her head from side to side, unseeing, not even in her body anymore, her own voice sounded like a stranger to her. “I can’t do this,” she muttered, and that moment, her heels hit something solid and she fell backwards, landing harshly on the steps of the stairs she’d chased Leon down before. Sliding right, she fused the side of her whole upper body with the wall like it was her lifeline, folding into herself and burying her head into her arms and knees — shutting everything out, rocking back and forth. “I can’t do this.”

She let nothingness cocoon her, took refuge in it — if she was in the dark, she didn’t exist at all, none of this was true, her pain wasn’t real. Vera could stay here forever in the mothering arms of oblivion, dig her roots into the stone, dry up like an old oak tree and wither away eventually, at a state of blissful unconsciousness.

But they just had to take that away from her, Leon just had to sit next to her, he enveloped her shoulders with his arm, a cozy weighted blanket to her soul that wished to fly away, and gently nudged her into an embrace she basically crumbled into — burying her face into the crook of his neck and letting the tears wet his uniform, warmth welcoming her despite the wall-like bulletproof vest. It was all-encompassing and painfully affectionate.

“I got you, I got you. Let it out,” he hummed, soft as a feather but steady as a mountain anchoring Vera. She gripped onto his vest with all her might, and Leon rocked her in Vera’s own rhythm. When the violent sob she couldn’t hold back anymore rattled her body, he hugged her tighter, rubbing her arm soothingly. “There you go. Let it out. Let it all out. You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

And she cried.

Vera wept and wept until she couldn’t anymore.

Leon held her through it, and along the way Claire slipped in, joining the hug as well, taking the role of the person who brushed Vera’s hair away from her eyes and wiped all the disgusting bodily fluids running down her face. She alternated between that and sitting right by her feet, holding her hands, rubbing soothing circles at her wrists and palms, and occasionally forcing Vera to take a couple sips of water from the bottle she’d brought.

Two strangers she met that day coddled Vera like family members would, and perhaps that was another factor why the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, your hair is actually curly, huh?”

Vera, in the middle of scrubbing her face clean with the wet wipes taken from her backpack, turned her head to Claire sitting beside her, having taken Leon’s place, twirling a wavy lock of her hair around, she’d probably noticed it while pushing it behind her shoulders. “Great, it’s frizzing.”

“I think it’s beautiful, but wow, this hair is totally dead. You shouldn’t use straighteners this much.”

“I don’t know how else to look after it, curly hair that’s not curly curly but not wavy either — it’s so annoying.” She stopped, staring at the wipe, folding it once and sighing. Her suffering and terrified dad was beyond this underground office and here she was, useless, chatting about hair types. “God, what am I talking about?”

Claire took her hand back like she’d touched fire, and gave her forearm a regretful pat. “Sorry, sorry…”

Glancing timidly at Leon, going over the main desk with a typewriter on it, she cleared her throat. “Hey, uh. Leon?”

He raised his head, absentminded. “Hm?”

“I wanted to… I wanted to say I’m—”

He grinned understandingly, flashing his teeth at her. “I know. It’s okay.”

Vera grimaced. “It’s not though—”

“Hey,” he hushed her, dropping the paper he’d taken from the typewriter.

Circling around the desk in a hurry, Leon dropped down to one knee in front of a gaping Vera, they were at the same eye level as she was still sitting on the steps. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. You don’t have to explain, I know. This is fucked up. The world is falling apart, I understand. You probably hate to hear that right now, but I do, and it doesn’t matter if you get mad at me for it, I’ll be here for you regardless. It’s fine, lay it all down on me, I can take it — we have to be real with each other and help each other to get through this and I’ve already… I’ve already let the lieutenant down and I—” He shut his eyes and looked away, a pinched expression dissolving as fast as it broke through him.

Flabbergasted and disturbed, Claire gasped, “Leon,” like a teacher would. She reached and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can’t possibly be thinking this is somehow on you.” She looked between the two, serious and fiery, letting him go. “You can’t blame yourselves for something entirely out of your control. The blame is on what caused this. All of us are victims here. Please.”

Leon didn’t seem to be convinced, something underlying making it unable for him to be consoled, but he hung his head and nodded affirmatively — a defeated, tired undertone to it.

“I… I don’t care about the blame or whatever makes a victim anymore, I don’t want to waste time thinking,” Vera swallowed, but the lump didn’t go away. “I don’t want to leave my dad alone in that pain. I just want to go back to him, whatever happens afterwards — I don’t care about that either. I just want to be with him.”

That snapped him out of the hidden turmoil he was going through, and his spine straightened. “Okay,” he piped up, blue eyes clear and shining. “We can do that. Just have to figure out how to circle back to the station or to open the passage up again… But we do that together, okay?”

Vera sniffed, she collectively felt like shit already, but was introduced to a new level of bad with the sheer amount of goodwill thrown her way. “You guys don’t have to join me.”

“This again?” Claire protested, and Leon let her go, standing up — his knee must have started hurting. Vera didn’t expect to feel the loss of the warmth tremendously. “Back where we started?”

“I can’t—” She rubbed her face with both hands, massaging her eyebrow lines. “I’m not letting you stay behind with me because it’s unfair to you.” Leon’s lengthy exhale resounded in the room, and she began to shake her leg. “How could I ever ask any of you to help me and put your lives on the line when we’re literally stuck in a zombie movie— I’m selfish, but I’m not that selfish! You deserve to get to safety, not a side quest in your way. There’s a limit to together, y’know?”

“Okay, let’s say we leave you,” Claire stood up, an arrow shot from the bow, glaring fiercely down at Vera — or, preparing for battle would be the better word for it, she sure was hostile as if she was going in to fight an enemy. She and Leon side by side were the portrait of a couple scolding their child. “What are you going to do?”

“Explore? I don’t fucking know—”

“So, run around like a headless chicken without an objective, got it.”

“I’ll plan, Claire, it’s not like I’m that helpless.”

“It’s not about you being helpless. You’ll be on your own and you don't even have environmental awareness at the moment. Do you know what I found? This.”

She pointed to something away from her and inside the circular secret office that wasn’t visible to Vera before, and her hand slapped back to her side from the sheer annoyance. “There’s a missing thing that goes here to open up the passage from inside. I don’t even think you would be able to discover this blatantly obvious thing, because you would go directly for the elevator to explore the lower levels. You don’t exactly have it together right now.”

Vera really wanted to clap back, (she didn’t lose an argument, ever), and it would have broken into an all-out catfight, but she was too shocked and was processing everything at the same time. Claire was faster, and on a roll. “Fine, we do what you want and leave you — what’s gonna happen after that? You’ll just end up as a zombie because you’re all over the place and too emotional at the moment.” She put her hands on her hips defiantly, daring Vera to tell her she was wrong. “Also, for a genius you’re pretty stupid for not taking the help you need when it’s offered.”

Claire had spoken pretty fast, spitting fire left and right, and had to stop to take a deep breath in once she was done.

Vera could only stare with her eyebrows shot up nearly all the way up, mouth agape, she could only open and close her jaw attempting to respond to all the accusations and scolding spilling from Claire like a gushing waterfall from a broken dam, but the younger girl hadn’t given her the chance to contradict any of it.

“All of that, but without the disrespect,” Leon said, sheepishly.

“Wow, thanks,” she said flatly.

Leon gained his composure back. “We’re here Vera. Until the end.” He reached for one of her hands resting on her knees and picking at the fishnets, his palm closing on the back of her palm, leaning into her a bit, and pulling her back on her feet.

There it was again, the weird and indistinct current of electricity prickling lightly under her skin, tingly even, and making way to her chest in the look they shared that was so foreign to Vera. She had to clear her throat and yank her gaze from him because Leon just didn’t.

“I obviously lost the chance to romantically help you stand up like a 50s’ gentleman to Leon, but I agree as well,” Claire teased, and Vera snatched her hand out of Leon’s, face burning up, suddenly conscious about it. “Whoops. Ruined the moment, did I?”

The office either belonged to Brian Irons or Albert Wesker, Vera didn’t know which alternative was the worst. She didn’t know much about the latter man — despite three years of barely being acquainted with him, and mostly seeing the introverted and closed-off man from afar, she was thinking maybe all this extravaganza wasn’t really his style, his villain style was discreet and lowkey, as she’d been told. Whoever had decorated this office was into luxury, and Irons fit the bill the most.

Vera didn’t quite register her surroundings out of impatience to move forward and the fear of falling apart again if she stayed back too long, but the old money design of the elevator ride down below brought to mind the bellhop-ran antique hotels of at least a hundred years back. She clicked her tongue at herself. “Did the king of England use this elevator or something?”

“King of England?” Claire picked up for some reason. “It's the United Kingdom — and it has a queen, not a king. Good lord, college dropout.”

“Shut it, minor. I can give you a crash course on how an engine works right here right now, but I’m a dropout because I don’t know England has a queen? What use to me is the queen of England?”

Leon chuckled. “I mean, Queen Elizabeth could get us out of here. Shame you don’t know her, though.”

“You expect the queen to bust in, guns a-blazing?” Claire pointed out. “I swear I saw a caricature of something like that in the newspapers one time.”

“My ideal sort of help would be to be picked up from above, but I can see the appeal of a Rambo-fied Queen Elizabeth.”

Vera gave her back to the back wall of the slowly descending elevator, but didn’t give all her weight to it in case she’d crush her loaded backpack, finding irony in what Leon said. “I mean, being carried up to the heavens by an angel or something is our best bet to be rescued at this point.”

“I meant a helicopter.”

“Oh.” She said, yikes would have been a better choice. “I mean, a Rambo Queen Elizabeth is still more realistic. Maybe she’s into cosplay and Vietnam veterans.”

Claire groaned in guilt. “Can you not make me imagine it, please? I feel so bad for finding something funny to laugh at in this situation.”

The lift eventually came to a halt, and the doors flung open, revealing a deep blackness that caused Vera's stomach to lurch. Leon slipped into a red alert, shotgun drawn and light flashing. "Stay alert," he said in a throaty whisper as he cautiously left the elevator, scanning for any danger. Vera trailed after him, his anxious apprehension bouncing off of her as well. They were in a wide, concrete stairwell with descending steps, no light whatsoever in sight, except from the red light emanating from possible wall-mounted electric boards down below.

She couldn’t see the bottom of the stairs.

“This is how people die in horror movies,” she lamented. And by Satan’s horns, she had no survival instinct-stunted white bone in her body to overlook how horribly this would end, her dad had taught her better. But there was no way but down. The chance of finding a T-bar valve handle just laying about was so slim that getting out of the building and actually circling back to the entrance of RPD would take less — so she had to keep going down until an exit presented itself to them.

They gradually made their way to the bottom of the stairs with nothing but their flashlights guiding them, and found themselves encircled on both ends with lines of compressors and pipelines — and then something hissed loudly over them.

All three raised their heads in synchronization to the source of the sound scampering away, and immediately looked at each other to confirm if the others had heard it too.

They didn’t have any choice but to move on, staying in one place for too long had proven to be fatal before.

The passageway they were pursuing opened to a massive engine room underneath them. They were strolling on grated ramps which were stretched out above the labyrinth of the machinery — if she didn’t know any better, Vera would think this was a part of a factory. She peered over the balcony for a better look, if mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell, this place existed to generate power for some unknown place — and she was ready to bet on it either being one of Umbrella’s NEST laboratories or the transportation needed to travel between them. She just couldn’t fathom this was right under RPD.

"Let's keep moving," Leon said, his weapon still ready for action. He walked down the ramp to the side, towards what appeared to be an office, which was blocked by an overturned metal bookcase.

And there it was again —-

Scraping, floundering, groaning, and wailing — above them and nearer now, something was down here with them and it definitely was no licker or undead, too weighty for that. The kicker was that it eerily sounded… Sounded as though it was in pain.

Claire cursed, agitated by how close the sounds had gotten. “Shit, what is that?”

“Shh,” Leon whispered strongly. “Whatever it is, I don’t think letting it hear us is a good idea.”

Claire’s voice dropped down to a whisper, too. “Vera, do you know what that is?”

“No…”

“You knew those skinless monsters—”

“This thing doesn’t come close to anything in the police station. It… It sounds…”

“Human,” Leon completed, lips drawn to a stressed, straight line. “We can’t stay here to find out.”

Claire contemplated that. “What if it’s someone who needs help?”

“We’ve survived through enough to know it isn’t,” Leon persisted, running entirely on instinct of what he’d encountered before, and Vera couldn’t exactly disagree with him. “C’mon, let’s go.”

The metal shelf was in their way, and Leon tucked away his shotgun to his back, steadying a good grip on the shelf and pushing with all his strength, his biceps bulging in the process with the strain he was putting into his arms. After some struggling, he managed to get it to stand up and back on its original place, letting out a labored grunt along the exhale he was holding in to gather strength to his core.

And the moment the metal practically boomed into place, something small skittered in crouching position, hiding away from sight behind some stacked boxes, and only when a mop of blonde hair peeked out for the reveal did they understand that this was a fucking child.

A small girl who had to be in primary school still, shakily cowered away from them, flinching from the chilly wash all of their flashlights pointed towards her, her large glassy blue eyes filled with dread, darting around to look at all three of them and beyond them for some reason. Her arms and shoulders pulled into herself, she was plainly trembling — trembling because they had weapons on their hands, out in the open. A blue and green plaid patterned vest wrapped over her little frame, part of what appeared to be a school uniform with long shorts and a blue ribbon, her white sneakers and knee-high socks thankfully looked clean — she was unharmed. Her shiny hair was tucked behind her ears with some strands falling on her face, the thin red hairband basically a cute decoration rather than a practicality to hold her bangs back.

“Oh my god,” Leon muttered, thrown off but most of all, deeply concerned, immediately crouching to be on her level and making himself smaller to be less intimidating. “Hello, sweetheart. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?”

His sweet voice seemed to get her to take baby steps forward, but she was still scared, stuttering. “Ah…”

“It’s okay,” Claire said, bending from her waist, smiling encouragingly at the girl. “We won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The girl spoke for the first time, her voice tiny. “Po-police..?”

“Yes,” Leon nodded along, tentatively reaching out for her. “I’m a police officer, but you can call me Leon, okay? What are you doing down here all by yourself?”

When the girl couldn’t answer, Claire stepped in, Leon — a cop, must have been too intimidating for the girl no matter how harmless he looked. “Do you need help?”

Vera heard feet dragging from the distance, eyebrows furrowed, she turned around slightly to confirm if there really was anything behind them. She could be imagining it.

Her breath hitched.

What the fuck?

She wasn’t seeing this right. The silhouette emerging from the shadows was… was disproportionate. The right shoulder and half of his torso was…. bulging… swollen?

“You… need… help…”

With the girl’s ominous stuttering and the thing stalking closer, Vera’s chest began to heave as she bypassed all fight or flight reflex and barrelled down to freezing in place. “Guys,” she said, but her voice didn’t come out.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you,” Claire told the girl, none of them had heard Vera.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

This was a man once — his abnormally reddened head was about to disappear within all the swollen and moving flesh, but it was a man, rapidly mutated by cancerous growth of twitching and writhing muscle, transformed into something repulsive, but wearing a labcoat still. The man's face was anguished, an eye nestled in the big, bloated shoulder, holding a pipe as if he wanted to play golf with the head of anybody he came across.

“Guys,” she tried again, but both of them were more occupied with making sure the girl was okay. Her hand reached for the holstered Lightning Hawk.

“You need help.”

The little girl had encountered the monster before.

Claire was genuinely confused. “Why…?”

“He’s right behind you.”

“What?”

“Run!” Vera yelled at them, as they turned around to see what the girl was talking about and froze in place when they saw the thing as well, slowly rising from their places. “Run, run! Get the girl! Let’s go!”

That thing fucking roared at that.

They got moving instantaneously, Leon grabbed the little girl under her arms without any effort, Claire sprinted forward; and the mutated man slammed his pipe on the floor once, twice, thrice — the strength with which he did that caused the grating to come loose, and the movement knocked Vera off her feet and the slope caused her to roll down towards the monster, making her unable to follow Claire, Leon and the girl swiftly getting away from the scene.

The grates under them collapsed, and Vera plunged into the mechanical jungle she’d only inspected before out of curiosity, screaming at the top of her lungs at the sensation of falling.

She should have blacked out from the exploding pain, her lungs had stopped working and she couldn’t draw any breath in for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing in desperation but her ribcage just didn’t expand enough, and her body, out of reflex, started panicking and trying to breathe even more frantically. She rolled to her side and crawled away as if she could physically run away from it, unable to control the choking sounds coming from her, and another loose grate above crashed where she was just lying down on.

She didn’t know how she managed to get back on her feet, Vera had never felt the need to survive this animalistically before — limitless energy was galloping like a racehorse in her veins and she didn’t even register the snapped metal of the grating had cut her upper left arm vertically deep, the cables of pain had gotten cut off with scissors from her brain the moment adrenaline had kicked in, her body burning with rapidly generated survival instinct.

All she knew was that it couldn’t end here. She had Marvin to get back to.

“Vera!”

Vera's primal daze was ripped apart by Leon's cry resonating from above. She looked up and noticed he was scared shitless, face gone white and pacing like a caged animal just on the edge of the broken grates, trying to figure out what to do. But she realized Leon couldn't drop down here without causing a sprain or risking harming himself in one way or the other since the height was too considerable and the fallen and twisted grates underneath were a spiky death trap — Vera was probably hurt from that in hindsight, she just didn’t feel it at the moment.

The mutated man growled at Vera, standing sluggishly and stumbling due to his equilibrium being thrown off from the extra weight on his overgrown shoulder.

"Stay where you are!" Vera yelled as she withdrew, bringing out Matilda first, calculating the twenty-four rounds she had on it and preparing to conserve Lightning Hawk on the spot. "I’ll deal with this!"

She had to. There was no other choice.

“I got this,” she mumbled. “I got this.”

As the creature lurched towards Vera and lifted the pipe over his head, aiming on cracking Vera’s skull open like an egg, she reassured herself that she wasn't terrified. Fake it till you make it. She needed to live.

Vera skipped away from the strike and shot four times with Matilda, figuring she needed to start with her usual rounds to assess where this thing stood in the spectrum of lickers and the normal undead by seeing what just shooting it would do. It scarcely caused him to stagger, but Vera took it on the chin, gaining additional room between herself and the beast before retreating completely.

It was pure survival instinct that got before the steering wheel after that. She didn’t know she had it in herself.

She slowly examined the labyrinth, drawing circles around to get the thing behind her back, identifying all of the spots she didn't want to be trapped in, collecting a few wayward cartridges that would most definitely save her life, and rolling beneath the monster whenever it drew too close.

Vera had created a pattern of some sorts, she could do this. He was sluggish, ungainly, and clumsy; and she moved fast enough to—

“Help me,” the thing moaned as he writhed, “Help… help…”

It disrupted Vera’s attention long enough for the creature to snatch her by the head in the clasp of its enormous, nasty hand. It plummeted Vera down to an uncalled for memory lane and suddenly this wasn’t a creature, but the rotund body of Brian Irons, gripping her skull like one of those face-grabber things from the alien movies and shaking her around, yelling at her. About what, she didn’t know, but he was in the right as always and this was for her own good. Vera didn't dare scream, aware that uttering a sound would only make matters so much worse; he didn’t like the crying, he made it extra painful when he was annoyed, she simply had to stay silent, and it'd be done soon, it was easier when she didn’t struggle.

Before her head became a mess of mashed brains and broken shards of skull, a blinding light blew up right by their feet; the monster scurried off, clawing at the giant eye lodged into his shoulder, and Vera— came back to her senses.

“Vera, keep moving, don’t let it catch you again!”

It was Leon. He was following where the fight went from the railings the best he could, he sounded a bit far away, but still had seen what was happening, had probably thrown one of his flash bangs like a baseball bat, as well.

Don’t think, thinking slows you down, slow gets you killed.

Vera switched to the Lightning Hawk, taking advantage of the monster being stunned, she fired twice at the big, blobby eye. The bullet holes were gushing an acidic, sickening pus, as if the eye was a giant pimple she could pop, the pulsating was way too disgusting.

Five left in Lightning Hawk, twenty in Matilda. She’d spent enough time testing how he moved, it was time she went into attack mode. The magnum had done significant damage, he wasn’t getting up.

No choice, she had to keep going until she took him down.

With a furious howl, the creature smashed his pipe into a tank, triggering the noise of metal shredding as steam started to flood the labyrinth, obscuring Vera’s sight.

This was getting annoying, she didn’t have time for this. Fuck, she was busy fighting an abomination while Marvin— Marvin—

She bore her teeth and barely got out of the way when the monster appeared from behind, and slammed into a scalding hot pipe full of steam, straight up fucking cauterizing the wound on her arm that had opened when she’d fallen— the cry she let out and the tears were involuntary, and her vision blacking out from the pain for a second, and because of that momentary halt, the monster almost got her with his pipe. Vera tumbled away from his path the last second, and the creature advanced towards her with incredible speed it didn’t have before; the sheer panic of that got her making way to the open space where she could dodge it and run circles to avoid it again, but the monster was backing her up to a dead end bit by bit. Changing their positions by crawling underneath the claw that was shot out to get her, Matilda was back in her hand in seconds as she shot at his back ten times and it still wasn’t enough, the magnum was reserved to be used on the big eye because she had an inkling it was this thing’s fatal spot. She was running out of cartridges.

And then she recalled it. Vera had passed by this place — railing. And bottomless darkness beneath it. She could fucking push him down there and never have to worry about it again. Marvin was waiting and fucking hell this bitch was wasting her goddamn time—

The monster screeched and dashed forth once more, out to get Vera, but this time, she didn’t back away, bracing herself for the plan she’d come up with in mere seconds. This was a huge gamble but she'd seen red, having taken her shovel out this time.

He impaled himself right in the eye when she used it as a spear, yowling and trashing as Vera quickly began to push forward with both hands gripping the handle without giving him any time to react or break free — push him back as the only way for him to get away from the pain was retreating, ahead and ahead— “You’re in the goddamn way!” She screamed with fury at last, a battle cry, if you will. She came face to face with the real head of the monster and spat all her venom out, gathered from all the frustration at being thrown around like a ragdoll by him. “I don’t fucking have time for you!”

His waist hit the railing and Vera pushed once final time, feeling the shovel plunging deeper into the soft tissue within the eye. Before plummeting over the ledge and into the abyss, the creature bellowed pitifully and continued shrieking as it faded away and disappeared into the darkness while Vera was watching as if it was from some film.

It was over.

She tucked away her shovel at her backpack, ignoring all the goop dripping down at its end and stood there, stupefied and feeling the after-amnesia of waking up from a dream.

Vera had to clutch the railing with one hand not to fall right to her knees, all the strength was pulled away from her limbs the moment danger was gone. If she let go to relax right now, she’d definitely fall apart.

“Vera, over here!”

Vera’s head snapped up at her name being called, only to see Leon dropping a ladder from the upper level he was in. She gathered her strength and ignored the dizziness clouding her head, basically dragging herself all the way there, feeling like one of those undead, and looking like one of them too, her stride was slow and sluggish, the adrenaline was receding fast and running low, leaving her drained, she just wanted to sit down and take a nap.

And then the pain started reminding her that it was there, and she found herself swaying with the tide it’d come down on her, gripping tightly at the ladder, and taking a second to settle the ebb and flow of the burning ache licking at her sides and at throbbing sizzling on her arm.

“I can’t,” she sighed, more to herself, her legs were too jelly to climb the ladder at the moment and her arms didn’t have strength for some reason — there was something wrong with her ribs. She attempted to pull herself up but slipped, and this time, her knees decided to give in.

“Shit,” she heard Leon curse, full on alarmed.

“Should we go down?” It was Claire who’d spoken. “Carry her up in a piggyback ride.”

“She’s gonna pass out any minute now, I don’t think we can get her to hold on long enough to figure out the logistics,” Leon refused, clearly stressed out. “Hold on, can you give me your good hand, Vera? I need you to bear it for just a moment and jump, okay? I’ll catch you and pull you up. Can you do that for me?”

Vera shook her head like she wanted to throw off the blanket of fuzziness that weighed her body down and held on to the ladder, pulling herself up, gritting her teeth at the surge of fire that went down her limbs. “‘ll try, ‘guess,” she slurred. She didn’t think Leon could do it at first, but Claire was directly behind him, holding onto him from one hand as he sagged his entire torso down the edge, all to better catch her, probably.

His whole face was still white as a sheet, eyebrows knitted in concern, his strong jawline clenched, the roots of his blond hair that was curtaining his eyes since he was leaning down were fading to a darker shade from sweat as if he’d been the one fighting the monster, reaching a hand down the ladder at her — it was a sight to behold, Leon simply was a different person when he was dead serious. Kinda attractive… Weird she was thinking about this right now, was she just dissociating?

“Come on, you can do it,” Leon encouraged, indefatigable in his efforts in getting Vera to move but there was an edge to his sweet incentive — he looked like he could jump down any minute if it kept on going, not even climb down like a normal person would do. “You were amazing fighting that son of a bitch, what is jumping a bit to you, right? You got this.”

Oh, of course he had to hit her with a compliment, the positive feedback honey to her aching body and further urging her to relax, but if she did, she wouldn’t get up for a hot minute. Vera had to jump, that childish pigheadedness about pleasing a person she received praise from came back from its years old grave. Vera hated that part of her that she’d buried long ago, but this time it helped her to take the leap, and she yelped at the feeling of being yanked so strongly—

And she was in Leon’s arms, blanked out and unable to comprehend how he’d snatched her up like she was one of those prize dolls in a claw machine while also being overwhelmed by the safety in his hug, one arm secured around her waist and the other on her back and his hand clutching at her nape, pressing Vera’s head into the curve of his neck where she could physically feel the rapid fluttering of his pulse against her forehead. She was embraced by his high temperature and smell, the fresh scent of aftershave—

“I got you,” he mumbled, exhaled strongly, like he could breathe again after being underwater for so long.

Vera could fall asleep.

If it wasn’t suddenly freezing and the shivering hadn’t kicked in, that is — and her lips were tingling.

A third voice seeped into her consciousness from far away. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, Sherry, just a bit shaken from that fight,” Claire assured her, but some suspicion was in her next remark. “Right?”

“Coming down from an adrenaline high,” Leon said, and Vera could feel the vibrations of his voice. “Her arm’s hurt…” He gently shook her, getting her heavy eyelids to open a bit. “Vera, can you hear me? Can you tell me where else is hurt?”

“‘urts…”

“Where does it hurt?”

She really wanted nothing more than to snuggle in more, she was so cold and he was warm, but some conscious part of her brain said absolutely not to. “‘ibs…”

He craned his neck down to hear her better, their cheeks brushing together. “Hm?”

Vera’s eyes fluttered close again, she was slipping away gradually. “Ribs.”

“Yeah, I figured, you couldn’t climb…” Leon shifted her in his arms. “We gotta relocate.”

And as the others were discussing some things and the voices started fading away, in the middle of being taken away by sleep, she realized her blood sugar had dropped down too much, she had to tell one of them to give her some treats from her backpack, she had to. But her body was so heavy and she was so under, couldn’t even open her eyes.

Vera could only weakly tug on Leon’s uniform to make an attempt to get his attention and he shifted his attention to her right away, she understood from his body movements. “Vera?”

“Sugar…” She quavered, words whales on her tongue. “Di… d…” She was gone for a moment, and came back when Leon shook her again, asking something in an urgent tone she didn’t hear. “Sugar,” she jumbled again, kind of annoyed he’d interrupted her sleep. She was overcome by the delight of being held by an alive being in the midst of the sea of dead suffocating them from all sides.

Vera let go.

She woke up in a cold sweat, disoriented and disturbed, Marvin was the only thing in her mind. The sharp movement of darting forwards triggered a dull ache at her sides and she groaned in pain, clutching an arm around her torso as she collapsed forward. The red leather jacket draped on her like a blanket fell down. What the fuck was happening, why was she asleep in the first place?

Claire was by her side, holding her by the shoulders and steadying her. “Hey, hey, you’re safe, it’s okay, you’re safe now, take a deep breath.”

“What? What?” Vera looked around in a hurry, but she couldn’t register anything, really. The lack of Leon was throwing her off her balance, as well. She’d been resting her head on Claire’s shoulder and sitting — or, resting, against the wall, the child they’d come across right beside her with her legs crossed under her, she was frightened by Vera being frightened.

“What do you remember?”

“I…” Vera held her head, she was feeling much better, magically so, even, despite aching here and there. “There was a monster? I fought it? I don’t remember much after…”

“You collapsed. We thought it was because that thing had wounded you too bad, but Leon figured out it could be from diabetes? He fed you treats he found in your bag and we mixed some herbs for you, and then we let you rest. How are you doing? Feeling any better?”

She did actually, her vitality was restored, that sleep had done wonders.

But wait. Leon had figured out she had diabetes? Holy shit. Vera had been awful at trying to convey it through her fight against the edge of hypoglycemia, but he’d gotten it, understood her somehow. She owed him one, because goddamn, how had he even put the pieces together?

“Just peachy,” she said, flexing her arm to see it’d been bandaged expertly by someone who knew serious first-aid, and listened to her body for any other protests at the pain.

Then it dawned on her. Standing up in a frenzy, she asked, “How long have I been out?” to Claire.

“A while,” she pondered. “Almost an hour?”

She could hit something— fucking sleeping like a baby when Marvin was out there, suffering on his own?

Goddamnit!

“I have to go.” Vera fumbled around, looking for her backpack, they were in a control room of some sort, a console with a window above that looked at separated grated platform bridges. “I can’t stay here.”

Claire finished getting her jacket on and rose up as well. “Hey, slow down a bit. What are you doing?”

“Getting a move on, Marvin’s waiting.”

“Leon’s still not here and you were just hurt badly, you can’t go off on your own.” When Vera didn’t stop putting her backpack on, and gathering her gear from where they had neatly stacked them, Claire grabbed her from her better arm. “Just stop and breathe for a moment!”

“I can’t!” She raised her voice and backed off harshly. And from the corner of her eye— saw the quiet little girl shrink away because of that, lowering her voice to a reasonable, softer but stern tone. “My father is out there, scared and on his own, turning into something he can’t stop, Claire, and I’ve left him behind— and wasted more than one hour on—on what? Resting? I have no time to rest! I don’t have the right to rest!”

Claire looked pained and lost at that, speechless.

“You’re looking for your dad?” The blonde girl spoke to her for the first time, hands drawn to herself, peeking out shyly from behind Claire. “I’m looking for my mom. Maybe we can look for them together?”

Vera blinked, staring at the kid, and then at Claire, confused, looking for answers.

“Her mom is apparently down here.”

Vera’s eyebrows twitched at that, why would a child’s parent be down here in an underground bridging system? How had she even found her way in here? This place was supposed to be a highly protected and concealed secret — unless.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Sherry…”

“Do you have a surname, Sherry?”

Sherry looked at Claire, wanting permission from her almost. It was after Claire nodded that she told Vera. “...Birkin.”

I’ll be damned, she thought, her eyes widening in recognition. This is the Birkins’ kid. No wonder, they must have brought her here before.

Sherry’s big blue eyes reflected joyful hope as she stopped hiding behind Claire and took a few steps forward, though not leaving her completely. “Do you remember me?”

“Huh?”

“You played guitar for me before!” She piped up, shy but excited. “I was lost… You and your friends found me, I was scared… You gave me food, and you played ABBA for me. I remember, I never forgot. You always wear pink and black!”

“Ah.” Vera pointed at her, shock poured all over her was a bucket of ice water. “You’re that kid? Man, you grew up well.”

“You two know each other?” Claire put her hand on Sherry’s back.

“Well, uh…” Vera grimaced, she didn’t know how to explain the situation without breaking Sherry’s heart on the spot. “Long story, we found her in front of the bar I used to play at, like, four years ago? We took her in, it was pretty late, there are weirdos out there, you know? Entertained her until her parents came.” Claire obviously had questions, but Vera made a face that told her she’d tell more about it later. “She was itty bitty back then, I didn’t recognize her. Way to go Sherry, you drank your milk, huh? Told you it would make you sprout.”

Sherry beamed at Vera ruffling her hair, she was apprehensive and withdrawn before. Her hands went to her head after Vera let go, adorably bashful. “I put honey in it like you said. It made it taste better.”

Vera smiled. “Attagirl.” As the memories about her resurfaced and she got an idea why a literal child would have found her way into this underground facility, it withered away right after. “Mom and dad leave you again?”

“No, it’s…” Sherry’s mood dropped instantaneously. “They didn’t come back, it’s scary out here, and I got worried… Mom didn’t call, I couldn’t reach them, so I… I’m looking for her.”

God knows how long they hadn’t contacted the kid. It must have been hectic in Umbrella, huh? So hectic that you would forget your child existed. Leaving her all alone in the middle of this… Fucking hell, these scientists were something else, as cold as the stainless, sterile white labs they ran tests in. How could you rest easy knowing that your own daughter was on her own, surrounded by zombies; how could you not lose your mind at the possibility of some of them getting into your house even when you believed it to be safe? What if she was out of food, what if she didn’t have water?

Vera was torn between fuming at the Birkins and wanting to coddle Sherry.

“Can you help me?” She pleaded innocently, and Vera’s heart dropped. “I’m sorry if it’s too much trouble…”

This poor child.

God, Vera had a soft spot for kids, this really was an exercise for her conscience at the moment.

At one hand, she needed to get back to Marvin, her chest constricted at wanting to get her to safety — but hell. This was something to be considered seriously, what did helping Sherry find her mother mean, really? The woman was probably cooped up in one of Umbrella’s labs, the NEST under the Spencer Memorial Hospital or the other one, they would have to break into one of them and getting it right was a 50-50 chance, just to get Sherry to her. And was that what they should be doing? It was easier to take her and get out of the city, in all honesty.

But if she was in Sherry’s place, her mom would be more important than saving herself, and Vera understood that in her soul, she was in the same boat with her, after all.

“Hey, you’re up!”

All of them directed their attention to the entrance to the operator’s room, and Leon was there, loosely clutching to the side of the door with a relieved smile on his face, he had an extra hip pouch now, he must have explored around to see if there was any loot while she was sleeping.

There was a bounce in his step as he came up to them. “How are you doing? You gave us a scare back there.”

“Much better, thanks to you,” Vera affirmed. “How’d you figure out I had diabetes?”

“Insulin in your backpack.”

Oh. Oh, fuck, that’s right. It wasn’t that hard to figure it out when you put it that way. “Ah,” she said, a bit embarrassed at giving him too much credit, she had put him on a pedestal to fully expect he would understand from her stuttering, huh? That was humiliating. “Ah, well, I’m grateful regardless. You stopped me from going into hypoglycemia.”

“Thank god I did,” he laughed, humorless, inspecting her body with his eyes in a medical manner that made Vera disappointed there was too much respect in there. “Herbs must have worked too. I’m glad you’re okay.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, or do something, the intent of action was nervous energy bouncing off of Leon, but it dispersed out of him when Sherry waved at him, one hand holding onto Claire’s jacket. “Hi Leon.”

Oh, he made her shy, Vera turned away and hid her smile behind her palm, acting like she was scratching her nose or something.

“Hi, Sherry.” He looked between the girl and her. “You met Vera?”

“Yeah, but we know each other already.”

“You do?”

“Tell you later,” Vera said, wanting to close the subject and move on to another. “Sherry here wants to find her mom, but I have to go back to the station. What do you suggest we do?”

“We are not splitting up.” Leon wasn’t going back on that decision. “Let’s go back to the station together, and then… And—”

He noticed the blank, hollow expression Vera had on, and promptly stopped talking, they both knew what was about to come after finding their way back to RPD again. To Vera, it was the end of the road she was actively trying not to think, choosing to obsess over the objective coming before that instead, which was to just find a way.

Weariness stepped on her spirit. “Are we sure we want to take her back to… that?”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Claire said, hesitant. “We can search for her mom after… Well.”

After Marvin dies? After he’s done dying? The thought alone branded her very being with scorching hot iron, smoke filled her lungs and made her eyes water, an ache at the back of her nose from unreleased tears. If she stopped to think for one second, she would find meaning in it no more and revert back to her original despairing state, that’s why she had to keep going. For Marvin’s sake, she had to, it wasn’t fair that he was alone in his pain, it wasn’t fair he was prioritizing her despite what was happening to him — and she— she had been such an ingrate. What was she doing?

Vera zoned off, in her own head as Claire asked if Sherry would be okay with coming along with them, only snapping out of it when Leon gingerly took a hold on the forearm of her unhurt arm. “You okay?”

“Are any of us, really?” She tore her gaze from the buttons on the control panel, and smiled at him, it didn’t really reach her eyes, but she nudged him to make up for it. “It’s fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist over me.”

He rolled his eyes at that, keeping up with her gig only out of worry, falling into her “trap” on purpose. “I don’t wear panties.”

Vera faked a gasp. “Flying solo? Naughty.”

“What does flying solo mean?”

They both gaped down at Sherry, eyes wide and looking like they’d stepped on shit, quite literally.

Surprisingly, it was Sherry who was guiding them about where to go in this underground facility, her young and fresh mind remembering paths not even Vera's adult informants could clearly recall and describe to her. They had told her about their plan to get out of the station and she was immediately on it, leading them from corridor to corridor, as if she knew it like the inside of her palm. Children were wonders that way, Vera always got laughed at by Marvin when she said an elementary student would do math better than an adult, but Sherry here was proving that by navigating this entire maze on her own without help.

Claire was striking a conversation as they jogged through the metal coves. "So... what's your mom like?"

"She works at Umbrella. She's making an important new medicine," Sherry said, and the lack of knowledge about what Annette Birkin really did was almost endearing, the girl sounded proud about it, too. It was obvious that she put importance on her mom's job.

"Umbrella?" Claire queried. "That big pharmaceutical company?"

Sherry tried to act unfazed and say it in a matter-of-fact tone, but didn't really succeed, she was a child, after all. "My mom's always at work. I don't get to see her much."

"Well, hopefully, you'll get to see her again soon. So... Where's your dad?"

"He, um... worked with my mom but... He's gone."

William Birkin was dead?

"What do you mean gone?" Vera pressed on, putting a nonchalant tone to her voice to not make her suspicious about her intentions. "Did he get out of the city and leave you and your mom, or...?"

"Um..." Sherry trailed off, and Vera felt bad about digging into the issue, her trepidation gave her the answer she was prodding around for.

"I understand, Sherry, you don't need to say anything more," she said, regretful. "I know a thing or two about losing a parent."

Claire supported the direction Vera was trying to lead the word to. "Both of my parents are gone—it's just me and my brother."

"Oh... I'm sorry, both of you..."

"Don't be. It means we've got something in common and... That's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah, I don't have parents either," Leon added, too upbeat for someone who was sharing that his family was gone. "I'm on my own, it's not that bad, don't worry about it, Sherry." He rubbed her back lovingly in a brotherly fashion. "Something to bring us closer together."

"Hey look at us, orphans supporting orphans, huh?" Vera clapped her hands, as if to dust off the depressive air. "Orphans Support Group? Who needs parents anyway, right? Trauma makes you cooler." Leon and Claire looked back at her with disturbed distress on their faces, for Sherry's sake, most likely, because she didn't think they'd mind if it was the three of them. "Don't worry I'm not gonna make orphan jokes, the punchline isn't apparent, after all."

Leon fell back and let Claire and Sherry take the lead, lowering his voice so only Vera could hear it. "Jesus Christ, Vera."

"What?"

"I don't think saying orphan out loud to a girl who's searching for her only remaining parent is helping."

"I'm coping, cut me some slack, will you?"

He didn't say anything to her after that bitter statement, falling silent — and it annoyed her even more, she could physically feel the empty words of consolation and support he wanted to say pressing on her skin, but he chose to just occasionally stare them into her during the remaining way to the manhole that lead to the parking garage Sherry was taking them to.

Leon had led the way, lifting the manhole lid to scan the area for threats before deeming it safe, and helping the others to climb up. The place appeared to be deserted, except for a handful of patrol cars, one of which was parked outside the locked gate with its lights on and beaming into the garage itself that Vera had to squint when it stabbed her directly in the eye, and as soon as she was on her feet, her bare legs and shoulders were stung by the late September chilly air.

The entrance was secured by an electronic metal gate that needed a keycard to open, and they obviously didn’t have anything like that — meaning Sherry had entered the underground systems another way. Vera made a mental note of that, they could ask her to lead them there.

Looking around, Vera could spot three doors leading out of the garage. She pressed up against the security fence, staring up at the slanted entryway. Interestingly, no undeads were around in this area, the street this garage led to also was where Kendo’s Gun Shop was, it was a relief to think this could mean he and his family were safe. When she sighed, her breath twirled around in misty swirls before disappearing into the air.

She shook the fence a bit to test the sturdiness of it. Nope, there was no forcing this open. “Now what?”

“This is how my mom took me last time,” Sherry said, disappointed.

They heard footsteps coming from the side, and Vera instantly recognized who it was, disgust shooting up her spine. “Sherry!? I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Sherry… Brave little girl to leave your house in the middle of this mess…”

Leon aimed his shotgun at the person immediately, it wasn’t like him to do so, perhaps he hadn’t liked the way the man had called for Sherry. “Identify yourself.”

He stepped into the light and Vera’s lips contorted in repulsion. “Lower that fucking gun if you know what’s good for you, rookie. I’m your superior.”

“Chief Irons,” Leon rasped, shaken, and took a more respectful stance, nodding his head in recognition. “I apologize, sir. It’s been a rough night—”

“Shut it,” Irons waved him off, clipped and curt, focused on Sherry and Sherry only — and it clicked for Vera. This man had been taking bribes from the Birkins, or rather, William Birkin for a long time now, was he instructed by them to take her to safety? No. That was too good to be true. He was more of a man to kidnap her in plans to make demands of them, even with the world going to hell.

Leon’s body went taut after hearing that, the same posture he had when facing all enemies from before, expression stiff and braced.

“Sherry, come,” the man said, not sparing one glance to the others. “We’re leaving.”

“Excuse me, who are you to her?” Claire said angrily, stepping in front of the girl and shielding her.

Irons looked at her, she was a bugger stain on the bathroom wall to him, and he didn’t hide it. “A family friend,” he stated, impatient and free of his usual charm to get people under his false charisma. “Now, Sherry, come on.”

Leon was watching him like a hawk. “Are you taking her to her mother, sir?”

“I don’t fucking report to you,” he spat, and did a double take when he saw Vera right behind him, closer to the closed gate, his expression changed from irritation to cold calculation within seconds. “Jane.” He scoffed. “Oh, what a surprise. You survived.”

He’d said that so ominously that Vera got goosebumps all over her body, she didn’t even detect Leon whipping around from his waist to observe her after hearing the word ‘Jane’.

Irons took a couple steps forward as if he was ready to square off, and the open hostility rang the alarm bells in her brain. This guy had openly tortured his officers — he had set the monster inside of him free because he believed the world was ending. “How fortunate for me. We have a score to settle, missy. After all I have done for you… Sending a rat after me? Really?”

Now everyone was staring, in confusion or in fear, she didn't know, the same fight and flight when she'd fought the monster down in the underground levels was being poured into her veins. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Some positive feedback to remember." The man pulled his revolver from his holster and aims towards her. "You're under arrest for robbery, trespassing, forgery, and... child endangerment."

It wasn't her who expressed outrage, but Leon, eyebrows forced together into a pronounced frown and mouth falling open. "What?"

"On the ground, hands behind your head," he shook his revolver towards Claire as well. "You too. Now."

Claire shifted on her feet, restless. "You can't be serious... What's this about—"

And he fucking fired a shot off to her side, which broke the window of a car. "I said, on your knees!" Leon immediately went into alarm mode and his hand went to his shotgun, but Irons was faster, pointing the gun to him this time. "I don't think so. Throw your weapon away."

Leon did as he was told, but didn't stop trying to reason with the unreasonable man. "Please, sir, I don't think—"

"Is this obstruction of justice, officer?"

Fear interrupted Leon's focus. "No... No, I..."

"Cuff her," Irons ordered, and pointed to Vera. "Cuff her now."

Leon froze, and Sherry was horrified, she couldn't move, only being able to protest verbally. "Why're you doing this?"

"Shut up," Irons dismissed her, and threw Leon a plastic handcuff. "Tie the other one."

Leon was physically showing distaste for what he'd just been ordered to do. "Sir, this isn't right—"

He crossed the distance in surprising speed and dug the barrel of his revolver right against the kneeling Vera's temple. "Okay, then, we do this the hard way. You do as I say, or they die."

Irons was showing his true colors, shit, he wasn't even pretending to manipulate people anymore.

Leon was high on alert, eyes wide as saucers, a wild animal wavering between playing dead and fleeing the scene. He couldn't find any meaning or point in what Irons was doing, his face was a book and Vera read this loud and clear. "I don't understand what you're doing and why you're--"

"I said, I don't report to you. I'm running out of patience, rookie." He forcefully pushed Vera's head down with the revolver and she tumbled down on her hands. Leon made an attempt to rush forward, but was stopped by Irons' words. "Cuff this one and tie the other one, I won't repeat myself again."

Leon's jaw flexed from how hard he was clenching and unclenching his teeth, and hesitantly took the handcuffs hanging from his belt, kneeling in front of Vera and taking her hands to lock them into place. "Leon, you can't do this," she said, panicked, his eyes momentarily flicking to hers, but she didn't struggle when he really clicked the cuffs into place around her wrists in fear of what an unstable Irons would do. "Please trust me, you can't listen to him, I didn't do any of what he accuses me of, he—"

Vera's eardrums rang from the shot that reverberated in the parking garage, shoulders recoiling. Irons had fired at Leon right in his back, the blond's breath constricted as he wasn't even able to scream, bumping into Vera's shoulder as he fell flat on his face beside her, unmoving.

Irons shot Leon.

Time slowed down to a stop, Claire's blood-curdling yowl of, "Leon!" didn't reach her ears.

"Idiot pig," Irons tutted. "Look what you did to him, Jane," he laughed cruelly at Vera. "Know that it's your fault."

What?

Vera could only stare, the inner corners of eyebrows angled upward, her brain not processing any of what was happening. Leon wasn't moving.

Her fault?

Claire raged and raged, cradling Leon's body. "You monster! What the fuck! What the fuck did you do!"

Vera's heart started picking up, her breathing shallow and fast. Leon was dead? He had killed Leon?

"Sherry, since the good cop's gone, you tie her hands behind her back," Irons commanded the crying girl, she was on the ground, sobbing and covering her face, Vera hadn't even noticed. "Or one of them goes next and I'll make you choose."

Vera couldn't tear her unseeing gaze from Leon and vaguely perceived Sherry executing what Irons had told her to do, her whimpers breaking into the wild thumping in her ears. She was eight years old again, under her bed in the orphanage, and shutting her ears off not to the commotion outside of her room.

The man swiped his keycard through, which unlocked the gate. "Now, come here."

Claire was seething. "What are you gonna do to her?"

"None of your fucking business."

"You asshole, I swear to god, my brother is STARS and you'll pay for this. I will fucki—"

Vera flinched violently when Irons kicked Claire down in the left side, not quite there in her head, watching things unfold from outside of her body. He walked over to where Claire had fallen and picked her head up by gripping her hair, shoving his gun in her face. "What's your name? What's your fucking name!?"

She hollered, not from the pain of Irons' ripping hold on her hair, but from the sheer hatred. "Claire!"

"Sherry, you come with me now or say goodbye to Claire!"

"Okay, okay! I'll go..! Don't hurt anyone anymore, please!"

Claire began to struggle. "Don't listen to him! He's full of shit!"

He struck Claire across the face with the back of his hand, making the girl fly off and hit her head on the ground with the sheer strength of it.

"Stop hurting her! Please!"

"Don't tell me how to do my job." His attention shifted to Vera, who still looked around like a coma patient who had just woken up. "Now, you... You'll be coming with me. Some re-disciplining is in order."

He raised his pistol above his head, and it merged with the silhouette of the past, younger Irons raising his hand for a slap, and she braced for impact. The handle of the revolver came down lightning fast on her skull in a pistol whip, and she hit the ground, feeling a gush of warmth trickling down her head, and on her face, she was facing Leon’s collapsed body before blacking out right after.

The next Vera came to, she was dangling off the shoulder of Brian Irons as if she was one of his recent fresh kills, and he was snarling, "Obviously, nobody taught you manners! We'll fix that. Oh yes, we will," at Sherry as they climbed the slope away from the parking garage, Claire's yells getting further and further away.

Those were the words he used to drill into Vera long ago, and the last things she heard before losing consciousness.

tagging: @ocappreciationtag

#leon kennedy x oc #leon s. kennedy x oc #leon s kennedy x oc #leon kennedy #resident evil oc #leon kennedy fanfic #story: gravedigger #era: no time to die #oc: vera kaplan #shai's writings

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oflgtfol · 3 years

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lmao hold on wait. shout out to that one boy in high school who, when playing dodgeball against a bunch of other high school boys plus only TWO girls, he threw a ball in one of said girls’ face, whom was Me. and i was the only one of us who was wearing glasses, and he threw the ball with such sheer unbridled Violence directly into my face that my glasses snapped straight in two pieces, right down the nose bridge, and i was already in a downward spiral for the past like month, so having that happen to me right in front of literally everyone, made me break down crying, right in front of literally everyone, and i had to go to the nurse to make sure i didnt have a head injury, and the gym teacher taped my glasses together, and they let me go home early so i had to call my mom and i was crying to her over the phone and then i had to go to school the next day with my glasses glued together cause my next pair wasnt ready yet LOL

#LITERALLY IT WAS SOO BAD I WAS ALREADY HAVING SUCH A SHITTY MONTH #i was already in a downward spiral and then the gym teacher made me and shannen play dodgeball with a bunch of violent teenage boys #which was just so humiliating and scary bc LIKE WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING VIOLENT???#ITS HIGH SCHOOL DODGEBALL WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???#anyway i didnt see which specific person threw the ball at my face but i hope he foreevr lives with this on his conscience #you made the Looks-Like-An-Eleven-Year-Old Girl cry bc u were so violent over high school dodgeball of all things #LITERALLY THEY FLUNG OFF MY FACEEEEEEEE #ive been hit in the face in dodgeball before so i was like momentarily stunned #and everyone was like OMG ARE U OKAY like they always are and i was just like yeah yeah im fine whatever #i was worried abt my glasses tho bc they were On The Floor but i just expected them to be like. bent out of shape #but as i went to pick them up it was like. OMG. NO THEYRE LITERALLY IN TWO PIECES...........#and i had never broken a pair of glasses before so i was also PANICKING .. lol #so i just. IMMEDIATELY BURST INTO TEARS YJTGFDSFGHGFDS #i hope that boy lives with that weighing on his conscience! you made me CRY!!!!#all bc u couldnt restrain ur violent animalistic urges to Throw Ball Like Its A Fucking Warzone!!!!#brot posts #also of note: my glasses have always been thick plastic #so the fact that my frames snapped directly down the bridge - the thickest part - says something abt how hard he threw that ball LOL

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

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undrunk

summary: your friends with benefits situation with bucky takes a turn that could break your heart

pairing: frat!bucky x reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: ANGST, explicit language, consumption of alcohol, implied smut, mention of previous cheating (not bucky), reader may have a slight drinking problem, bad rebounds, one (1) game of spin the bottle, bucky is kind of a dick but also reader is kind of crazy, slightly toxic but it works out in the end, like the tiniest bit of fluff (if you squint). loosely based on undrunk by fletcher

a/n: here she is, the long awaited frat!bucky. i hope this was worth the wait, and everyone enjoys the happy ending i tried to do. if you like this please make sure to reblog and comment - i appreciate every single one!!

main masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on notifications for fic updates!

You were woken up by the click of your bedroom closing, and the soft sound of padded feet through your hallway and out the front door. You squeezed your eyes tight, willing the tears not to come as you rolled over and checked the time. 5am. At least he was consistent.

It was stupid - you were stupid - to let this happen again. Bucky had broken your heart enough times that you should know better by now. But you never learn.

You guessed you couldn’t really blame him. He had made it clear to you from the very first night that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. That it would only ever be sex. Of course, when you’re half drunk and desperate for him to just fuck you already, you agree to anything. No one could blame you for a one night mistake.

No, the real pain came from the months after. The 1am texts and the secret touches. Because with those came the silly pictures and the late night talks as he laid in your bed. With it came the desperate want for more. Even when you knew it wasn’t possible.

So you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the tears streamed down your face, knowing you had no one to blame but yourself.

Despite the ache in your chest, there was one thing you could never say no to: a party. Maybe you should learn to stay away from them, considering that’s how you ended up in Bucky’s bed in the first place, but you just couldn’t; there was nothing like the sweet release of drinking your pain away.

At the very least, you could stay away from Bucky’s frat house. Or that’s what you told yourself.

Somehow, though, you ended up in the basement of the Phi Gamma Delta house, even though you specifically told Wanda not to let you anywhere near Fiji tonight. Not after your conversation with Bucky a few days ago.

Not after he had accidentally stayed the night, and you thought it meant more. Not after you had asked him to go to breakfast and he practically sprinted for the door.

But you hadn’t seen him yet, so that was a plus. There was always a chance he had skipped out on the festivities for the night. Maybe he had gone home to Brooklyn for the weekend, or maybe he was upstairs in his room and you could just -

Your thoughts were cut off by the cheers of the group of people around you, and you turned to see Sam in the middle finishing off a handle of vodka. In your experience, that could only mean one thing.

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” Sam shouted as the last burn of the liquor coursed through him. Having no reason to say no, you made room for yourself in the circle and patiently waited your turn.

Sam gave a dramatic look around the room, before spinning the bottle with a twist of his wrist. Everyone watched as the glass slowed, anxious to see who the first person to kiss the frat president would be tonight. To your surprise, the bottle came to a slow stop on you.

You looked up with slightly panicked eyes. Even in your inebriated state, you could recognize that kissing one of Bucky’s brothers probably wasn’t the greatest idea. But then you remembered the look of absolute terror on his face at the mention of more. And Sam was moving across the circle to you, and Steve - Bucky’s best friend - wasn’t saying anything and so you came to the conclusion that you did with most things: fuck it.

When Sam’s warm lips met yours, you felt… nothing. No spark, nothing beyond acknowledging he was a good kisser. It lasted less than 10 seconds before you were pulling away and spinning the bottle yourself.

Which is how you ended up kissing half the people at the party: Peter - everyone’s favorite pledge, Natasha - your chemistry lab partner, and Scott - who you had never met before but was as funny as he was a good kisser, just to name a few.

The game continued until it dwindled down to a handful of people and you switched to another drinking game. One which you were losing terribly and it showed in your glassy eyes and drunken babble.

The last thing you remembered was the feel of strong hands on your hips, the soft plush of a mattress, and an ache between your thighs.

A beam of sunlight burned across your face, enunciating the raging headache you had after going to bed without Advil or an acceptable amount of water. You could have sworn you closed your blinds, but figured you must have opened them up at some point during the day before.

It wasn’t until you reached for the bottle of water you usually kept on your nightstand and grasped air instead that you realized you were, in fact, not in your own bed.

You shot up before groaning at the rush of dizziness to your head. Slowly, you blinked until the room came into focus, and assessed the damage of your night.

You were naked, so that wasn’t a good sign. You remembered sloppy kisses and hushed whispers of are you sure? And at least whoever it was was just as drunk as you were, so there was no harm done in your mind.

That was, until you realized who you had spent your drunken night with.

Broad shoulders gave way to a freckled back and narrow waist. The tuft of blond hair was a mess, like he - or you - had run hands through it, a lot. You knew there was no one else you could be, but when he rolled over, his long lashes fluttering awake, it was confirmed.

“Steve?” you hissed, still in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

At the unmistakable sound of your voice, his eyes snapped open, and he nearly fell to the floor.

“Y/N? Fuck, fuck! Bucky is gonna kill me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” you scoffed, and you wanted to crush the little bit of hope that creeped into your mind. No, he had made it clear there was nothing more than sex between you. But off course he wouldn’t want his best friend to sleep with the same girl. Bro code or whatever.

God, his best friend. This was worse than Sam, who he’d only known a couple of years. This was his other half since they were practically in the womb. You couldn’t have chosen a worse rebound.

Wanting to forget the mess you had just made of your life, you quickly pulled on your clothes while Steve watched with wary eyes, though he didn’t say anything else about Bucky.

“Are you okay?” You heard Steve’s timid voice as you were about to pull open his door. The motherfucker was such a sweetheart, and you couldn’t handle crying on top of everything else right now.

You were so close to just leaving without a word; that would have been easier on everyone. But damn Steven Rogers, so charming without even trying. You walked back to his bed where he had sat watching you, and gave him a quick kiss. It was a thank you and an apology and a let’s never talk about this again all in one, and he seemed to understand.

Pressing your ear to the door, you made sure no one was in the hall before you slipped out of his room. It would be your luck if Bucky was coming out of his room across the hall at the same moment you were leaving his best friend.

Thankfully, the hall was empty, and you couldn’t hear the usual chatter that came from the frat house, so you figured they must all still be sleeping off their hangovers. You pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber, figuring your best bet was to wait outside on the steps for the few minutes it would take to pick you up. You were so engrossed in your phone you didn’t hear the clatter of plates in the kitchen or the abrupt stop of voices.

When you finally reached the bottom of the stairs, you felt eyes on you, and you looked up to see Bucky staring at you from the kitchen.

You couldn’t have predicted how much it would hurt to see his face, even after only a few days. You also couldn’t have expected the gut-wrenching feeling that came with him cooking breakfast… for someone else.

Not just anyone else, Dot, the beautiful redhead from Chi Omega that you had always been insecure about, even before Bucky.

Flashes of walking in on your ex-boyfriend buried between her thighs had you stumbling back, and Bucky could do nothing but watch as you made your way to the front door. You could even hear the snicker of Dot’s voice just before you slammed the door shut behind you.

The great thing about having your own apartment is you could get wine drunk every night of the week and no one was there to judge you for it.

So every night for the next week, you poured yourself a glass before you started on your homework, and were happily tipsy by the time you took a shower and fell into bed. Some may call it a problem, but they weren’t around to know.

You got so used to the feeling that by the time Thursday night rolled around and you had nothing to do but drink, you went a little overboard.

After the first glass you didn’t even bother with any etiquette, instead drinking straight from the bottle until it was empty and you were hungry. You started a pot to boil while you uncorked another bottle, and had half of that down by the time your pasta was ready to be cooked. Trying to maneuver a pot of boiling water proved to be difficult with a bottle of wine in one hand, so you tried to set it down to give yourself room to work, but ended up knocking the handle of the pot, spilling hot water across your arm in the process.

Though it stung, your pride was the thing that took the most damage as you pressed a cold washcloth to your forearm. You slid down to sit on the tiled floor, bringing the bottle with you, and only when you drained the last of the liquid did you allow yourself to feel your emotions.

It started off with silent tears, hurt from the shards of your heart, and gradually your drunken mind spiraled until all you could feel was seething anger at the way Bucky had treated you.

How were you not supposed to catch feelings after Bucky was in your bed practically every weekend?

There were even nights where he came over just to study - although you supposed those always ended in hookups too. But he called you beautiful as he pushed into you, brushing your hair from your face and leaving delicate kisses across your flesh. He made you feel more than any other reoccurring hookup. You couldn’t believe you were the only one who felt the spark that always buzzed beneath the surface of your relationship.

Letting your anger and uninhibited brain fuel you, you grasped for your phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart.

The line rang once, twice, before he picked up, and at first all you could hear was the chatter of other people. He yelled something, muffled by his hand over the speaker, before you heard the sound of a door shutting and he finally spoke.

“Hello? Y/N?” He sounded relatively sober, which did not bode well for you. It was a lot harder to argue with someone when they weren’t as drunk as you were - and that’s exactly what you were looking for.

“James Barnes, you motherfucker.” You tried to sound confident and put together, but the tell-tale of slur coated your words. “You fucking suck, dude.”

“Why are you calling me?” You could hear the agitation in his words, and that made you even angrier.

“To tell you that you’re the fucking worst, James. You need to know that. I need you to know that.”

“God, Y/N, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not -” you hiccupped, giving yourself away even more. “I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not the one that’s wasted on a Thursday night. Jesus.” Surprisingly, you couldn’t hear any judgment in his tone - just disappointment. And maybe that hurt worse. What right did he have to be disappointed in you? You weren’t his anything.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that. Just don’t.” Your voice wavered and you could feel the tears coming again. “How could you?”

A deep sigh, like he knew this was coming. “How could I what?”

“You could have picked anyone but her, anyone but Dot. You know how I feel about her, and you fuck her? It’s like you don’t even care about me.”

“It’s not like that -” You cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever lies he spouted.

“Don’t bullshit me. You even cooked her breakfast. I thought you didn’t do relationships, huh? Or is it just that you don’t do relationships with me?” Finally, the dam cracked and you were sobbing and you heard Bucky sigh again, like you were a nuisance, like he had better things to do.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re hurt, that you caught feelings, that you thought there was more. But I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want a relationship. More than once.” The truth of the words stung, but he wasn't done yet. No, Bucky had to make sure every piece of your heart was irreparable. “I’m not going to keep explaining myself to you, not when you’re acting crazy like this.”

“At least your best friend doesn’t think I’m crazy. And he was a better fuck anyways.” You were grappling for any way you could hurt him the way he had hurt you but he was a brick wall.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

Crazy. The word bounced around in your thoughts over and over, even after the call had ended. You stared at the kitchen wall, thinking about where everything had gone wrong. Where you had gone wrong.

Because this was your fault, and that was a hard pill to swallow. Bucky was right, he had been honest with you from the beginning, and you had held onto unfounded hopes.

In that moment all you could wish was to go back in time - to stop from getting drunk that first night. To stop your spitefulness and your anger. To stop from ever falling in love with him.

The next morning you woke up, still on the kitchen floor, with a splitting headache and dried tears coating your face.

You thanked the gods you didn’t have a class on Fridays as you stepped into the shower, feeling the ache of last night slowly wash off you. It was after that you decided, staring in the mirror at your sunken cheeks, that you would make a change. You would get your shit together.

You started with an apology to Steve, one he deserved long before now, then took the time to delete the pictures of Bucky from your phone. The ones that were private and you had kept for when you needed something to take the edge off of missing him. The thought filled you with guilt now, as you pressed delete and hoped he had done the same on his end. Then you texted your friends you had neglected the past couple months, the ones who tried to warn you and who had gotten sick of your own self sabotage.

The last thing you did was type out a text to Bucky, apologizing for your behavior, for the way you had treated him, and wishing him well. But you couldn’t bring yourself to send it, so it sat undelivered in your phone until you could finally bring yourself to delete the entire text thread.

You knew you should delete his number too, erase any temptation, but it was just something you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

The urge to text him and explain yourself took a while to go away, especially when you found out that Bucky wasn’t lying about nothing happening with Dot, that she was there because her sorority sister had needed a ride home that morning, and she just so happened to catch Bucky in the kitchen.

You beat yourself up for that one, though you knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was never anything more for you and Bucky, regardless of who he did or didn’t sleep with. That was the hardest part to get over.

But you did it.

You stopped going to frat parties, too, deciding that part of your life was over. You threw yourself into your studies and before you knew it, May was approaching and you were just a couple weeks from graduation.

Preparing for one last hoorah with your friends, you met Wanda at your favorite bar downtown - dressed up for the first time in a while, and drinking more than a single glass of wine with dinner since that phone call with Bucky.

Who, speak of the devil, walked in just as you were grabbing a tray of drinks off the bartop. You locked eyes, but quickly hustled back to your table as you saw him attempt to push through the crowd towards you.

You thought he had gotten the hint, because you only saw him in quick glances from across the bar after that, until you made your way to the bathroom, brushing Wanda off when she offered to come with you.

Unfortunately, there was only a single stall that was annoyingly occupied, so you leaned back against the wall and waited.

You were scrolling through Twitter, contemplating going full Maddy from euphoria and banging on the door, when you felt a presence beside you. You knew without looking up exactly who it was.

Slowly, you slipped your phone in your pocket and turned to look up at him.

He was devastating. Just as charming and handsome as you remembered, and it was a struggle for a moment to catch your breath.

“Hi,” he whispered, and you wondered if maybe he was thinking the same thing about you. You could only be so foolish to hope. “I’ve missed you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and you wanted to shove the feeling down but suddenly his hands were cupping your face and he was just a breath away.

“I was an idiot, to say the least, and I’m sorry it took a few months of missing you everyday to realize that.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It felt like a fever dream - awful and amazing all at once. “Could you give me a chance to not be an idiot?”

What you should do was tell him no, that you had moved on, that he didn’t mean anything to you anymore.

But you had always been a terrible liar.

Instead of falling into his arms like you desperately wanted to, like the you of six months ago would have, you pressed a kiss to his cheek - a forgiveness and a dismissal all in one - and walked back to your table.

After exchanging goodbyes with your friends, you sent one last look Bucky’s way before heading home.

It had been a few days since you’d heard from Bucky, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Although you had wanted to forgive him and move on that night at the bar, a part of you held back. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t a result of him being drunk and lonely. And unfortunately it seemed your suspicions were right.

You’d spent the days since then with your phone always in arm’s reach, hoping he would call, but on the third day of nothing, you had accepted your fate.

Just as you were about to run a bath and block out the world for a little while, there was a knock at your door. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you shoved it back down along with the lingering hope that it would be Bucky on the other side.

Preparing yourself for anything, you swung the door open to the one person you wanted above all else - Bucky Barnes, weighed down with… grocery bags?

“Uh,” you weren’t quite sure what to say, and the sheepish smile on his face was one you had never seen before.

“Can I come in?” He asked, lifting up the bags. “These are pretty heavy.”

Wordlessly, you stepped aside, and he set the bags down on the counter. When you peaked inside them, you were surprised to find an array of breakfast foods. You sent him a questioning look, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I spent the last few days thinking about how I could prove to you that I was serious. Probably have about 50 unsent texts. After everything, I thought I could start with breakfast. Low stakes, and you don’t have to decide anything right now. Just let me be here with you.”

Although you had decided the moment you saw him on your doorstep, you let him cook you breakfast. You let him open up in ways he never had before. You let yourself fall more in love with him, knowing he was doing the same with you.

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#bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #mcu #marvel #tiff writes #undrunk

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 3 years

Text

"Can you write one where Hero is in an abusive/toxic relationship with SuperHero but thinking it's normal while Villain is worried and tries to get them out of the said relationship? (also Villain does have feelings for Hero in this)"

Request #7

Warning: toxic/abusive relationship, physical & mental abuse.

This was a fun one! Definitely gotta write a part two later!

Enjoy! ^_^

~~~~

"Boss, we're in." - one of Villain's subordinates called from the side as they and a group of others operated the new spy drones the villain had recently got their hands on. The machines were tiny, smaller than a fingernail, and could be easily mistaken for an insect. Equipped with the best cameras around, they allowed Villain to easily snoop for information.

And what better first target to try them out on than Hero? Their hero, their nemesis. They would never admit it out loud, but Villain quite enjoyed the battles the two shared. Perhaps even a bit too much...

"Perfect!" - the villain exclaimed from their chair, excited grin adorning their face, "Let's see what we can find~."

The camera feed came to life on the giant monitor before them, and the sight that greeted them... made their stomach twist into a thousand knots.

"S-SuperHero, please! I-I'm sorry!" - Hero begged, lying on the floor of what appeared to be a bedroom. Their upper body was exposed, skin bruised in so many places Villain couldn't keep count.

SuperHero stood over them, hands clenching and power crackling in the air around them. They looked just about ready to murder the other hero.

Murder? The thought made Villain's heart grip with worry. But why should the villain care? They wanted their nemesis gone, didn't they?

No, they didn't. They knew that they didn't.

"I told you not to fuck this up, and what did you do?" - the superhero growled out, their anger unlike anything Villain had ever seen from them before.

"YOU FUCKED IT UP!" - SuperHero yelled, grabbing Hero and throwing them across the room and into a wall. A pained cry left them, and they could only whimper as their body sunk to the floor. The hero didn't dare get up as the other approached them once more.

"VILLAIN FUCKING GOT AWAY AGAIN!" - a kick to their stomach made Hero cry out in pain a second time. SuperHero grabbed them by the hair and pulled them closer, screaming directly in their face, "ALL BECAUSE YOU'RE SUCH A WORTHLESS FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!"

Hero was tossed once more, every part of them screaming in agony. They shook in terror as the superhero moved closer yet again. Their muscles tensed as SuperHero's form loomed over them. Hero prepared for their punishment to continue, for the pain to keep on coming.

Only for their partner to pass by them and go out the door, slamming it shut. The familiar click of a door locking entered the hero's ears as they released a shaky breath.

Villain sat there, frozen. Out of everything they had expected to see, this was not on the list. Weren't these two in a relationship?! Weren't they supposed to- to love each other or something?!

Hero's sobs and sniffles echoed across their lair as the villain silently watched their broken form curl up on the hard floor. Their gaze grew dark at the sight, a tinge of worry drowning in their rage.

"Cut the feed." - Villain said sternly after a moment, voice devoid of emotion. They stood from their chair and immediately went for the door.

"B-Boss, wait! Where are you-" - one of the henchmen tried but cut themself off as their employer turned around. The look in the villain's eyes made their blood run cold. Villain was never a bad boss by any means, as they never hurt or threatened their employees.

But that look... It made everyone in the room tense up. It was like locking gazes with a hungry predator, and it made the henchmen feel like prey. It made them realize...

Villain was out for blood.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hero had been lying on the floor for what felt like hours, and it probably was. They had run out of tears a while ago now. They wanted to move but couldn't bring themself to. Everything just hurt so much. Even breathing was a struggle.

At least the cold floor helped numb some of their pain, but still... Hero knew they deserved this...

They let Villain get away again. They should've captured the criminal, but they failed. They failed like they always do. Hero was such a waste of space. Why was SuperHero even still with them? Hero was truly nothing but a burden on their partner. They always had to take care of Hero, always had to waste their time and remind them how pathetic they were. SuperHero was too good for them. They deserved better than Hero. They should just leave them already. They should get rid of Hero. They should-

The door unlocked.

The hero tensed up, curling up into a tight ball, preparing for the pain as the door was opened, and a pair of footsteps slowly approached them. The person walked in front of them and kneeled down to their level. Hero's breathing grew shakier with each passing second. Why was nothing happening?!

They were about to beg, but before a single word could leave them, they cringed as a hand landed on their head.

Hero was prepared for that hand to roughly grab them, to pull them up by their hair, to hurt them. In their terror, they failed to realize that the stranger was gently petting them, their fingers running through their hair. Only when they spoke did Hero's mind register what was happening.

"Hero?" - came a hushed whisper. That voice... Hero knew that voice. It... It was...

"V-Villain..?" - the hero mewled, voice broken and hoarse. Confusion overtook their eyes as they continued, "W-What are you... doing here..?"

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here to get you out of here." - the villain comforted them or tried to anyway. Their response seemed to have only terrified Hero that much more, their eyes widening with fear.

"B-But- But SuperHero..." - Hero whimpered, their body shaking once more. The villain hushed them again and gently picked them up in a bridal carry. Villain noticed how the other shuddered from their touch but snuggled into their chest nonetheless, their arms loosely wrapping around the villain's neck.

"So terrified of contact... and yet so desperate for it..." - Villain thought to themself, pity making their chest ache. Even they weren't this lonely! And for the hero to be like this... For their Hero to be so ruined...

It was unacceptable.

Villain swore that they would make sure Hero knew what real love and care looked like. They would show them how a real relationship worked.

They would make sure SuperHero paid for this.

Returning to reality, the villain insured that they had a good grip on their hero and walked out of the room. They moved with haste through Hero's house, as they had no time to spare. In their earlier fury and concern, all logic had left them. Villain had just rushed over to save the hero, without even considering that SuperHero might still be lurking around.

"Gah! Why is this house so damn big?!" - the villain thought to themself as they turned another corner, concern starting to eat away at them. They could technically just fly out the window with the help of their powers, but they wanted to avoid drawing attention. The streets were littered with people and other heroes, and Villain would have an advantage if nobody saw them stealing the hero away. Sneaking in here was already hard enough, but now they needed to get out before-

"You... YOU..."

-SuperHero saw them. As Hero's 'partner' began to charge straight at them down the long hall Villain froze at their enraged gaze, but their hero's shaky grip on their shoulders brought them back into reality.

The villain turned on their heel, and just as the superhero's hand brushed against their back, as the air around them crackled from SuperHero's anger, they summoned their power and jumped into the air. They flew through the house, speeding like their life depended on it.

Because, well, it did. Not just Villain's life... but their hero's life as well.

Flying around the inside of a building was already difficult enough, but doing it while panicking and carrying someone in their arms? It was a nightmare, but Villain was determined. They were determined to never let SuperHero lay another finger on Hero.

As Villain turned another sharp corner, they nearly crashed into the wall, barely catching themself just in time. As they regained their bearings, a giant window greeted them at the end of the hall, and seeing as they have already been spotted, Villain decided to just go for it.

They bolted for the window, tightened their grip on Hero, and, at the last second, twisted their body around midair. They winced as they crashed through the glass with their back, shielding the hero from the sharp shards.

As blood dripped from their fresh wounds, the villain ignored the pain and dashed up into the sky, hiding amidst the dark clouds looming over the city. Once they were out of sight, they headed straight for their lair, never looking back.

Meanwhile, down on the ground, SuperHero looked up into the sky where the two had just disappeared, a tiny disabled drone sitting in their hand that they could barely stop themself from breaking into pieces.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hero groaned as they awakened from their slumber. At some point during their and Villain's escape, they had passed out. The hero vaguely remembered the villain taking them high up into the clouds and nothing else past that. They tried to open their eyes and take in their surroundings but only managed to whine as their head exploded with pain.

The hero felt like they were burning up, it was just so hot for some reason. They have been feeling rather sickly the past few days, so perhaps they were running a fever? They tried to pry their eyes open once more but stopped as something gently landed on their forehead and made them flinch out of reflex.

They whimpered as a hand touched their head, petting their hair. However, a familiar hushing sound brought some of their senses back. They finally recognized the coolness on their brow as a wet cloth. And that hand and voice, it was unmistakable.

"V..Vill..ain...?" - the hero tried but only ended up getting themself into a coughing fit. Their throat felt drier than a desert, with some cactus spikes scratching at it as a bonus.

As if their mind was being read, a cup of water was brought to their lips. The hand from before carefully lifting their head so that they could drink. Hero swallowed every drop of the precious liquid, the pain in their throat easing as their head was laid back down.

Finally, albeit with some difficulty, they managed to blearily open their eyes, blinking a few times to adjust their vision. They were lying in a soft bed of what appeared to be a guest bedroom, a fluffy blanket covering their still naked torso. Looking up, Hero was met with the concerned face of Villain.

"Wait... Con...cerned...?" - they pondered, why would their nemesis be worried about them...? And now that they thought about it more... Why...

"Why... d...did...you...?"

"Someone had to get you out of there." - Villain cut in, wanting to spare Hero's throat the struggle. "And before you ask how I even knew you needed help, I happened to be... ah... spying on you at the time."

"H...Help...?" - the hero voiced their confusion, completely ignoring - or perhaps not registering - the 'spying' part as their eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I... didn't need... help..."

Villain frowned at their words. Hero could see the concern on the other's face growing even more as they voiced their own confusion, "What do you mean you 'didn't need help'? They were hurting you."

"No... That's... normal... They were just... trying to... help... me... be better..." - Hero muttered out, they thought this would clear things up, but their explanation seemed to only upset the villain more.

"Hero, that's not- Partners aren't supposed to hurt each other! That's not helping in the slightest!" - in their momentary anger Villain raised their voice too much, and regret immediately flooded them as they watched the hero flinch and cower away from them, fresh tears making their eyes glossy.

"No, Hero- I-" - the villain tried hastily but stopped themself, seeing as their sudden movements only rattled the poor hero even more. Instead, they took in a small breath, did their best to relax their tense posture, and slowed down, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I..."

"P-Please don't be angry..." - the hero whined, scared the villain would suddenly do a one-eighty and hit them. However, to Hero's confusion, Villain's face was only decorated with pain and concern, no anger or rage to be seen. They weakly gripped the blanket covering them in their nerves.

In a hushed whisper, the villain responded, "No, I'm- I'm not angry with you." They gently took hold of one of Hero's hands and did their best to comfort them, "It's okay. I promise I'm not angry with you. Nobody here will hurt you, I promise. You're safe here."

As Villain left a small kiss on their knuckles, Hero watched them, still rather unconvinced, "B-But if you're not angry... T-Then why did you y-yell?" - they whimpered, the sound twisting the other's heart even more.

"I am angry, but not with you, Hero." - the villain's words only confused the hero even more. If Villain wasn't mad at them, then... then at who? Hero was the one who messed everything up all the time!

"I'm angry with SuperHero. They hurt you. They hurt you, and you don't even realize it..."

"B-But..." - Hero tried to argue, but Villain gently hushed them again, putting their hand back down.

"For now, just get some more rest, okay? And when you wake up, I'll have some food ready for you so you can eat."

Hero wanted to protest but found that they were too exhausted to even try. They only whined tiredly as Villain gently flipped the cloth on their forehead over, refreshing coolness spreading through their head once more. And combined with the villain softly petting their head, Hero was out like a light within moments.

Villain stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the hero sleep. Their gaze grew fond as they observed the slow rise and fall of the other's chest. Soon, however, they retreated out of the room, letting their rage overtake their features. They were well aware that SuperHero would come and find them. So, they had no time to waste. The villain had to prepare.

They had to be ready to protect their Hero.

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

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How about a Loki x reader.. Tony moves his baby sister into the compound after something happens to her but he won’t tell anyone what. She refuses to leave her room until everyone is in bed. She comes out one night and is caught by Loki. She immediately apologizes and becomes so shaken up that she drops her things and breaks a glass. Then it hits him why she was secretly moved in. Tony had discovered his little sister living in a bad situation with her now ex and suffered years of abuse. Loki decides then to take his time to make her feel safe again and they eventually fall for each other.

A/N: I hope this works! I got really sappy at the end, but I also don’t know how to end these one shots. This is a bit of a lengthy one, so bear with me.

He’s Not Him

Summary: Tony Stark has enough of his sister’s ex and moves her into the Avengers Tower. After taking notice of her shy and timid behavior, Loki digs deep at her past, making him want to make her feel safe.

Pairing: Loki x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2993

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of domestic abuse, language

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Y/E/N - your ex’s name

*If you or someone you know is being domestically abused, please reach out to 911 or call 800.799.SAFE (7233) for help. Love you all*

Tony storms into his sister's apartment. After standing outside of her door for a half hour, he bashed in the door at the the sound of a scream from inside. Frantically, he pushes his way around the furniture and bursts into your bedroom. His eyes go wide at the sight of you on the floor in a ball and your ex boyfriend above you with a fist out. Stark grabs your ex’s fist and rips him away from you, pushing him into your dresser.

“Get the fuck out!” Tony screams.

“Oh, the great Tony Stark is here. What are you going to do? Drop a bomb on me?”

You’ve never seen Tony’s skin turn so red. He storms forward and punches your ex square in the nose, sending him down on the ground. Tony unleashes all his energy until the man is left with a broken nose and multiple bruises.

“Get. Out.”

Your ex runs out of your room, without missing the chance to break a few things, and out of your apartment. You look up out of your ball to see Tony rushing to your side with panic in his eyes. He lifts up your head as you climb into his lap.

“Come here, darling. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” He coos.

You cry into the crook of his shoulder as he rocks you back and forth, his hand on your back.

“I’m getting you out of here,” He says, placing you on your bed, “I’m taking you to the tower with us.”

Tony leaves you on your bed as he gets a suitcase and packs your things. He gathers all of your clothes and some of your possessions like books, drawings, and others. You can feel the tears starting to dry on your skin as you stop crying. Tony doesn’t miss the way you start to uncurl and the bruises on your neck show up. His face drops to see the choking marks on your neck.

“I’m… so sorry, Y/N. I should have been here to protect you.”

You shake your head at him as he joins you on the bed. Tony reaches around your head to undo your ponytail and cover the bruises.

“There, now no one will ask you about them.”

You give him a gentle smile which eases him a little. He leans forward and kisses your forehead before taking your hand and helping you up. Tony and you walk out of your building and into the garage where Happy is in the car. He drops you off for five minutes to go talk to your landlord about you leaving.

“You’re going to be okay,” Happy reassures you.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out.

He gives you a warm smile. He has always made you smile throughout the years. Tony comes back, joins you in the car, and takes off to the tower.

Upon arrival, you look up at the large tower in awe. You’ve visited a couple of times, but that was a year ago since your ex didn’t allow you to see Tony much. It’s always been impressive. You were thankful for Tony letting you live on your own and make something of your own life instead of letting you mooch off of his fortune, but you do regret sometimes not letting him support you more. You were always so proud of him.

Tony carries your luggage as he leads you to the elevators. He looks down at you every so often, noticing the anxious way you bite your nails.

“You’re safe here. We have the best security and you’ll be surrounded by trained assassins and heroes. They’ll protect you, I promise.”

You nod your head at Tony’s words. As much as they help you, you don’t really want to see or talk to anyone. After having your ex break into your house every day for two weeks, you want to be alone except for the occasional visit from Tony.

The elevator doors open and reveal you and your brother to the Avengers who are all lounging in the living area. They turn to look at you with puzzled faces, making you nervous and hide behind Tony’s arm. He lets you stay behind him instead of forcing you to say hi as you exit the elevator.

“Everyone, this is my sister, Y/N. She’s going to stay here from now on so be nice to her,” Tony announces.

Everyone says hi to you but you stay silent behind Tony. He doesn’t question it even though the others look at one another in concern. Steve thinks to himself that you can’t be that rude, but given the way you look, everything must be very different to you from the rest of your life. You look shocked and scared.

Looking at the Avengers, you take in each and everyone’s appearance. Bucky and Nat look the scariest in your opinion and you make a mental note to stay away from them. Sam, Steve, and Clint look nice, but Wanda looks like the sweetest lady in the universe. She has a smile that warms your heart. Turning to your right, you see two very tall men standing and staring at you.

The taller one has blonde hair and a big grin on his face. He has a large stature, but he does not look intimidating. He has a golden retriever energy to him, but the man next to him is a different story. With his pitch black hair and powerful stand, the other man stares at you with daggers in his eyes. He sends shivers down your spine without saying anything.

You drag your eyes away from the intimidating man and follow Tony down the hallway. He leads you to your room where you get settled in, unpacking your clothes and putting away your things. Laying in the bed, you take a big nap which is needed. You feel as if you let out a breath you’ve been holding for days. The idea of being away from your ex finally settles in and you feel the wave of relief wash over your body, letting you drift away into sleep.

You’re woken up by Tony letting you know dinner is being served. He lets you know that you’re not being expected to come out and eat with everyone, which you appreciate. Ten minutes later, he comes by your room and slips a plate of food in your room as he opens the door, letting you eat alone.

Tony returns to the living room by the other Avengers eating and gathered around the couch. He takes his plate and sits next to Pepper who has her own food, smiling at him as he joins.

“So, your sister?” Sam asks.

“Don’t even think about it. She is not to date any of you.”

“Woah, I didn’t say that,” Sam laughs.

“But we know what you meant,” Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes, “She seems shy.”

“She is. You probably won’t get a lot out of her.”

“Can I ask why she’s staying her?”

“No.”

Steve shares a look with Bucky. The elevator door opens and Peter walks into the living room.

“You guys started dinner without me?” He asks, jokingly.

“Early birds get the worm,” Steve laughs.

The group chuckles and keeps eating their food.

“Is Y/N a new Avenger?” Steve asks.

Tony sighs and rolls his eyes at the question. Everyone notices the annoyance in Tony with talking about you and collectively decide to stop asking questions. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about you much.

“No, she’s not.”

“Who’s Y/N?” Peter asks.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Nat replies.

The day goes by fast and you find yourself staring out at New York in the moonlight. You have always enjoyed the night time. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but you’ve always found peace and warmth in the New York night. Everyone goes out to party or to bed. It’s a time of joy and relaxment.

You hear the last door shut for the night, signally everyone going to bed. Looking outside of your door, you don’t spot anyone so you sprint outside to the kitchen with your empty dinner plate. Upon entering it, you search the walls for the light switch for about five minutes. There’s no other light than that except for the over. You finally find it and switch it on. As you turn around, you’re startled by the frightening black haired man standing there.

Scared, you drop your plate, shattering it on the tile floor. Your eyes go wide as you start to back up against the wall. Without saying anything, the man takes a step forward, scaring you half to death. Your mind plays tricks on you and all you can think about is your ex breaking into your home. You start to have a panic attack, sliding down against the wall, and curling up into a ball.

You miss the way Loki’s eyes go wide. He watches you descend into an anxiety attack and doesn’t know what to do, knowing he’s who caused it. Quickly, he rushes down the hallways and bangs on Tony’s doors.

“What do you want, Reindeer Games?” He groans.

“Your sister…”

Tony doesn’t wait for another word for following Loki down the corridor. He spots you panicking in the corner of the kitchen and grabs you, lifting you into his lap. You grab onto his neck and pull him close, crying into him. He lifts you up and carries you off to your room without saying a word to Loki, leaving him standing in the kitchen agape.

Not knowing what to do and unable to relax, Loki makes his way to his room and opens up an old laptop Thor had gotten him. After spending thirty minutes just to figure out how to work it, he starts googling things about you. He starts with your name and finds multiple articles on you and Tony, the Stark Industry Golden Children. You left when you were eighteen, wanting to make your own life and not follow in the family’s footsteps. He gives you credit for being yourself, something he had struggled with. He knows the feeling, not wanting to be your family.

Then a certain website catches his eye, Facebook. He finds a profile of you filled with photos and text. There are some of you with friends in the town, a couple of old coworkers wishing you a happy birthday, then there’s a photo of you with a man. There are no other photos of you with him other than this one a couple months ago. He keeps scrolling to find more photos of you with him, but they all stop after that first one. Clicking on something tagged in the caption, another profile pops up.

Y/E/N’s profile. Filled with photos of drunk nights at the club, shirtless gym time, and quotes from misogynistic authors, Loki finds himself despising this man he does not know. He scrolls through finding very little of you in his account, as if you don’t matter as much to him as he does to you. Closing his computer, Loki decided to go check on you. He’s frustrated by whoever this man is, not knowing whether he’s important or not.

Loki peeks into your room to see Tony laying next to you, brushing through your hair with his fingers. Tony looks up and meets him in the eyes. There’s slight anger, but Loki doesn’t feel pushed away. He takes a step in before Tony leans into your ear and whispers. You look up and over to Loki, but you don’t ask him to leave. Loki continues to walk into your bedroom quietly, but with a small gentle smile on his face.

“I’m sorry for scaring you earlier,” he says, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. Thanks,” you mutter.

Your voice is small and timid like a mouse. He can hear the hesitation in your voice, not knowing whether he should talk to you or not.

“Are… you okay?”

“Yes.”

Another awkward pregnant pause erupts between the two of you. Loki looks around your room as Tony continues to hold you. He whispers into your ear again before leaving.

“I’m going to go back to my room,” he says, “call me if you need me okay?”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Of course, anything for my little sister.”

He kisses your forehead and heads out of your room, leaving you and Loki alone. You don’t mind his presence anymore. After Tony tells you that Loki isn’t your ex and you’re okay, you’ve accepted him.

“I have to ask… who is that man on Facebook?”

Loki gives you a quizzical look. You think for a moment about how Loki got on Facebook and what guy he’s talking about.

“His name is Y/E/N.”

Your body clenches at the sound of his name and Loki takes a step back, looking at you. He’s never seen anyone physically close up just from a name. It may be some Midgardians thing he doesn’t understand, but the way that you are shaking, he thinks otherwise. He sits down next to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders. You lean into his touch as you attempt to calm down.

He’s not here. I’m safe. He’s not here. I’m safe.

You keep repeating that in your head, reminding yourself that you’re safe in the tower like Tony said. Looking up at Loki, you see his concerned face. He cares. This man you barely know cares about you.

He’s not him. He’s not him. He’s not him.

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m being quite an ass asking you these questions without manners. I’m Loki.”

Loki, not Y/E/N. He’s not him. He’s not him.

“Well, L-Loki,” you say with a stutter, “He’s uh… my ex. Ex boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

He nods as he takes in the information at hand. Your ex, who makes you quiver in fear even over people who have done nothing to her, has no photos of you. He shares his lavish lifestyle that most would presume belongs to a single man. Loki looks back at your depressed ridden face. The color in your skin has drained from you and you’re staring blank cold at the wooden floors under your bed. Loki places a hand on your neck to move your hair and give you a light massage, but you flinch away from him before he is able.

Loki’s never seen so much fear and worry in someone’s eyes before. You jerk away from him muttering yourself, as if it were taking everything in you to not scream. He looks over you to see bruises along your neck where your hair had moved from when you moved. A wave of anger runs through his body, infuriating him. He did that to you. That’s why you’re so afraid of him.

“Did he-”

“Yes.”

Loki rises from your bed and clenches his fists. You see the anger pouring from him and rush to his side before he can storm off. You grab his arms and force him to look at you.

“Please, don’t… don’t do anything.”

“Why shouldn’t I? No man should ever do that to a woman, especially you.”

“Just let it be.”

He releases his fist but the fury in his eyes doesn't. You pull him towards you to make him sit again. Moving in closer, you lean into him. Loki wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. The two of you lay down in your bed, you curled up on him as he held you, running his fingers in your hair.

For some reason, Loki feels as if he has to protect you. The way you ball up gives him this sense of innocence about you. You haven’t done anything to deserve those injuries, just live your life and try to find love. Loki always knew there was a good reason to hate Midgardians, not just for their stupidity and now he’s found it.

The two of you fall asleep without realizing it. The light from the sun peaking in the windows wakes you. Stirring in bed, you look up to see Loki under you, his arms holding you against him by your waist. You're cradled into his chest as his chin barely rests on the top of your head. Loki’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of you moving on top of him. He looks down at you and smiles.

The way the light shines on your face makes you look angelic. Your smile warms his heart and the warmth of your body against him makes his heart jump. You turn over to face him, leaning up on your shoulders over his head.

“Hi.”

“Hello, darling.”

“You slept here.”

“Both of us did, actually,” he laughs.

You drop your head laughing. Loki’s sweet laugh fills the room and blesses your ears. He’s not too bad to be around. He’s quite kind and sweet.

“Thank you for last night.”

“For what? If I remember correctly, I gave you a panic attack.”

“I mean the way you calmed me down and held me. It was needed.”

“Well, I’m glad I could do that for you.”

Loki means it when he says it. Looking at you now, there’s not much he wouldn’t do for you. You don’t deserve what the world gives you, especially that asshole Y/E/N. He would hold you for the rest of time if that meant keeping you safe.

You won’t lie either when you tell Loki he makes you feel safe. Every day before he sneaks off to his room so the others don’t know he spends the night with you, you tell him that he makes you safe. He never believes you. He’s shocked that anyone could feel safe with a monster like him, but after all to you, Loki is not him.

#loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki #loki x reader fluff #tony stark x sister!reader #tony stark x reader sister #loki x stark!reader #loki x reader stark #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel x reader #loki oneshot

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ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

(Platonic techno x Piglin Hybrid Reader)

Imagine a 7-8 y/o piglin hybrid finds techno's nether portal and out of pure childhood curiosity decides to go through it and ends up in the snow biome. They almost immediately get frostbite and pass out due to living in the nether and usually being warm. Eventually techno finds the child by his nether portal and look's around to see no parents so assumes they are an orphan he goes to pull out his orphan obliterater but the voices get louder telling him to take them home and protect them eventually gives in wraps his cape around them and brings them home to warm them up

(Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable)

-Anon :)

Kin - Piglin!Child!Reader and Technoblade

Pairings: none

Characters included: Technoblade, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request :]

Summary: Y/N was just too curious! This weird black frame with the purple light was surely not there before! Maybe they should look at it a bit further. The light just looked too inviting!

Words count: 3023

Authors Note: My first Techno fic! YO! I really love him alot! He is one of my favorite CCs and also favorite Character in the dsmp :) Wish I found a better way to cut this one off but I had so much fun writing this!

Y/N’s little Piglin hands slowly traveled up the rough Netherrack that they were hiding behind. Grabbing the edge of the rock as their head followed along, their eyes peaking over cautiously.

There was this weird black frame with what looked like a purple pool inside of it. It emitted a rumbling but kind of musical sound that seemed to call out to Y/N. In fact, they only found this weird portal only due to the sounds. Never in their young life have they heard anything like it.

They have only seen something like this here and there whenever their clan moved on from a region but usually those seemed to be broken. The frame only half finished without a light coming out of it. Elders and the adults would always remind them to stay far away from it since apparently it could be dangerous, but Y/n couldn’t understand how.

It just stood there playing its music that seemed to almost call out to the Piglin. Wanting it to get closer and listen to its magical melody.

How could be something so beautiful be considered dangerous?

Taking another look around, Y/N made sure they were alone. Secretly having run off to follow this sound they managed to pick up on. It’s not like their parents would look for them on account that their parents were already dead.

Now the Elders took care of them, but they were usually too busy with clan business to realize when they ran off on their own adventures.

Once again checking that there were no Ghasts or other dangerous mobs around Y/N climbed over the rock. Landing on what looked like a pathway that led to the black frame.

Closer to the structure Y/N took the time to get a good look at the rock that has been used for the frame. It was a deep black and yet it somehow seemed to have a purple shine. If it came from the vortex between or the rock itself Y/N couldn’t tell, nor did they care enough to figure that out. Too amazed by it.

The sound was now really loud, and Y/N could tell that it came definitely from the purple light. It seemed to swirl in of itself almost like liquid and yet it stayed in the air as if it were glass put between the stone.

Mesmerized by it the child slowly put their hand into the light, trying to figure out what the material was.

But the only thing they felt was how cold it felt and it seemingly pulling on them. Trying to pull them deeper in. Scared Y/N immediately pulled their arm away, holding it close to their chest. Warming the cold limb up with their own body and the temperature of the Nether.

They have never felt anything like this. It was interesting. They knew what cold was but never like this. Only having felt an occasional breeze from jumping around or running around and even then, it was nothing compared to what they just felt.

Was this vortex doing this? Was this the purpose? Is this the dangerous part? How?

Y/N was already so incredible curious, but this really spiked their curiosity. What would happen if they just stood in there?

With this question in mind the kid placed one foot in the frame, soon followed by the next. The vortex completely engulfing them. Purple being the only thing they were able to see. This cold feeling immediately hitting them like a brick wall.

With a surprised grunt with how huge the temperature difference was, the child jumped away, hoping to get back to the familiar warmth but as they did the cold didn’t disappear.

The portal was still there but suddenly there was this bright light all around them. White as far as they could see.

Now panicking the child desperately looked around but their body was still dealing with the sudden temperature drop.

The world spinning around making it difficult for them to get a good look at where they were. Darkness crept in at the edges of their vision which they desperately tried to fight against.

Without realizing Y/N crashed onto the white ground which seemed to be even colder than the air around. Sneaking into the thin clothing and prickling at the skin. Their heart beating incredible fast and, in their ears, and yet they suddenly felt so tired.

The coldness that was so uncomfortable before suddenly turning more comfortable. Their breathing calming down as their eyes fell shut. Submerging themself into the world of darkness.

Luckily for Y/N, Technoblade was on his way towards the Netherportal himself. He managed to run out of Blaze Rods and needed to gather more for his potions only to spot something or rather someone lying face down in the snow.

At first, he assumed that for some reason Tommy managed to knock himself out while wandering over for whatever reason but the closer he got the more he noticed that, no, the body was way too small for that.

Also, he was pretty sure the last time he checked Tommy didn’t sport similar pig ears like Techno.

The voices in his head were pretty calm until they realized “Kin? Our kin? Out here? Our or his kin? Is it our kin as well?”

Techno approached the small body. This child was shaking and wet due to the snow. The clothes soaked. How the hell did that child just survive the travel to the Overworld like that? It was more likely that Piglin’s die during that process and end up as just a husk. A zombie if you will.

Not a lot of Piglin are strong enough to survive this magic. Techno should know he almost died when he traveled over and only survived because he had Philza on his side who helped him through it.

Impressive and yet he didn’t particular care.

“Parents? Orphan? Are they an orphan? Oh! Blood for the Blood God? No! Look at them! They are already dying! They must be something special surviving the portal like that! Are they though? Aren’t they dying? More because of the cold than anything! What about their parents?”

Grumbling Techno stepped into the portal himself, ending up in the warm nether. Hoping to still the curiosity of the voices a tiny bit with this. A sense of nostalgia spreading throughout his body and senses as he looked around the red landscape.

The child’s parents have to be around somewhere. Rule number one in the nether for Piglins was to stay together no matter what. It was dangerous in the Nether and the relationship between blood kin was precious. They must be already around here. Picking up on the child’s scent to find them.

And yet. Nothing.

No Piglin, no anyone.

He wandered a bit in, but he didn’t even spot any close group of Piglin’s running around. Weird. Was that child really alone?

“Check on them! Techno! Check on the child! See if they are still there!” the voices yelled out, infuriating the warrior a bit.

“Alright, alright!” he gave in and once again stepped into the portal. The cold hitting him but at this point he was used to this and managed to reacclimatize himself pretty fast. Not immediately and it still took a few minutes, but he didn’t almost pass out every time.

No surprise there. The child was still laying in the snow.

Once again, the voices flared up in his mind. A few demanding blood while others still expressed their curiosity towards this orphan.

Too busy with his own plans and things to do Technoblade took out his sword aptly called “The Orphan Obliterator”. He just wanted to deal with this situation as fast as he could, so he could move on.

Moving the sword up in the air only for the voices in his head to suddenly erupt loudly.

“No! Stop! Do not! Don’t kill! No! Techno! Please!”

This was very much not like their usual behavior. Usually, they would welcome any chance for bloodshed. Calling for it even in situation where it was just inconvenient and unnecessary but now, they don’t want it? Okay, maybe he should listen in to the voices after all.

“What is going on, Chat?” he asked.

And the voices, even if loudly and talking over each other, answered “Save them! Take them with you! They are special! Protect them! They are your kin if you give them the chance! We are sure! A young child able to survive this? Sounds similar to you Techno! Take them with you! Save them! Please! They deserve the chance!”

The problem with Chat was, they sometimes knew more about the world than Techno and it has paid out listening to them, but they also liked to just follow their whim for fun. Though this seemed to be the former. They realized that the child was special and worth saving, even if only in their ,sometimes omnipotent, eyes.

Sighing Technoblade sheathed his netherite sword and pulled off his red cape.

Realizing what Techno was doing, Chat begun cheering. The voices that had demanded blood before now fully drowned out.

Technoblade knelt down and carefully heaved the piglin onto the cape, wrapping it around them. Their body was unsurprisingly incredibly cold. So cold that Techno worried they didn’t have a lot of time left. Well, worry was a strong word perhaps.

Holding the kid close to his chest he got a good look at their face. Their expression scrunched up in what he assumed to be pain. A few light scars on their face. It wasn’t unusual that Piglins sported a few scars but not that young. The parents were usually too protective over their young.

“Must be a real troublemaker, I bet.” He noted.

Scars already at that age and them running through a portal just like that? Yeah, that child must cross the line between brave and stupid a lot. Not that he could fault them. He wasn’t that much different as a child himself, though he would never admit it out loud.

“They are kinda cute! It’s a child. Children do that. What do we do with them? Save them first. Talk to them. Figure out if they have potential! Kin? Kin! We need to talk to Philza. Dadza! Grandza! Oh! Yes! Grandza!”

Techno shook his head, as if that would make the voices shut up “Chat, please. Don’t assume anything. I might just help them out and find a clan for them to get back to. We don’t have the time for a child to be around. Too busy with the Syndicate.”

While Chat wasn’t happy with it, they seemed to be glad enough that Techno was acting against his instincts to help this orphan out. If the others hear that the Technoblade has helped out an orphan, well, he hoped people won’t. Doesn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite and as someone who keeps his words, and threats.

With the kid in his arms, he made his way back towards his cabin. Apparently, the Blaze Rods had to wait after all.

As he walked up the stairs towards his cabin and walked in, he suddenly got very aware he had no idea what to do. Looking around his eyes fell on his fireplace but that somehow seemed dangerous. Probably bad idea to just lay down an unconscious child right next to the fire, right?

Instead, he remembered that he had a spare bed roll sitting around somewhere.

With the cape still wrapped around the little one he pulled out the bed roll and laid them inside the rolled-out bed. While tucking them in he made sure to let a bit breathing room in. Letting their body slowly warm up instead of instantly.

“Food. Food, Techno. Eat. The child as well!”

Ah, yes. What would he do without the voices reminding him to eat?

Normally he would just pop a potato in the furnace but not this time. If he is already cooking, he might as well cook for the both of them. Soup seemed appropriate. Now, if he only remembers the recipe and instructions Philza gave him way back.

Still a tiny bit annoyed he has to put off getting the Blaze Rods, Techno sat down and begun cutting up vegetables and heating up water. Putting the ingredients into the water and putting spice in after tasting it here and there. It definitely wouldn’t be a masterpiece but as long as it not tasted absolutely horrible and still warmed one up from the inside, this should be fine.

The child better not complain after he already went out of his way saving them from the cold. He really should have just killed them so he wouldn’t need to get through this trouble and could actually get work done but Chat really was acting weird.

The cooking process took longer than he expected. Long enough that his own pig ears suddenly heard some noises, groans, coming from behind him. Looking back, he saw how the small Piglin was moving around in the bed. Slowly sitting up. Their eyes still closed.

“You are awake.” He stated in Piglish. Knowing, that they probably couldn’t speak the common tongue of the Overworld.

They opened their eyes but were still squinting. Either in pain or not used to the light yet.

“Where am I? Who are you?” grunts coming out of their mouth that made up Piglish words.

For a second Techno had to hide his smile as he realized that it has been a long while that he spoke with anybody his native tongue.

“You are in the Overworld. In my home to be specific. You are lucky I found you or you would have frozen to death in the snow. Name’s Technoblade by the way.”

It seemed to be difficult for them to wrap their mind around this new information “Overworld? Technoblade?” they repeated as if this would give them more insight.

Not knowing what else to tell them, Techno turned around and begun pouring the soup into a bowl. Walking over to them to give it to them.

A bit wary the child pulled their arms out of the cape that was still wrapped around them. The white fluff tickling the back of their head. It seemed to be an old cape. The fluffy part not being as fluffy as you would have assumed anymore. The fur dirty and strands glued together. Things that just happened over time even if you washed it quite often.

“My, uh, my name is Y/N.” they spoke, grabbing the bowl and looking inside it.

“I’m not poisoning you, you can eat it. Warms you up and once you feel good enough you can get back into the Nether.” He then proceeded to pour himself a bowl and begun sipping it.

It was edible. That was something.

Y/N kept watch as Techno continued to slowly drink the soup out of his own bowl. Drinking some of the food as well, their eyes widened out of pleasant surprise when the soup seemed to warm them up from the inside. Craving more of this warmth they begun gulping the liquid down in seconds.

This place was certainly warmer then when they got out of the portal but it was still cold enough for them to shiver. Where in the world were they? Never have they seen any of these materials around them. Grey cold stone, dark brown wood, white walls decorated with colorful pictures? It seemed almost unreal to them.

“How are you feeling squirt? Good enough to go home yet?” There was a bit of hope in Techno’s voice. The sooner this passed the better in his book.

“Home.” Y/N once again repeated what Techno said only to hold the bowl up towards him. A shy but determined expression on their face.

It took Techno a second before he understood what they wanted “More? More soup?”

The child enthusiastically nodded.

Sighing Techno got up from the chest he was sitting on to refill Y/N’s bowl and as he pushed the warm bowl back into their hand Y/N opened their mouth again “Uh, Overworld? I am in the Overworld? What- What is that?”

“A different world to where you come from. It has hot places and cold places. Different things and different mobs as well. Very different but both places are connected. You came through one of the portals that lead to this place, it also leads back to the Nether. Now, tell me something. I haven’t seen your parents. I was looking for anyone but there was no one. Not even a random group walking around.”

Y/N first slurped more from the soup before they answered “My parents are gone. I live with my clan. I always run off and they get mad at me.”

Techno knelt down to Y/N and softly pressed his hand against their forehead which made Y/N freeze. Scared and confused with what he was doing.

He let out a deep breath, wincing as a few voices begun yelling inside his mind “Ah. Seems like you have a fever. Guess I could help you through it and in the meanwhile try to find your clan. Might as well show you a bit of the Overworld while we are at it. Not a lot of Piglin get the chance to see the Overworld after all. You certainly are a special case.”

Then he turned around and talked to the air “Happy now Chat?” Turning back around to face Y/N again “Are you okay with that, Y/N?”

It was still difficult for them to grasp the whole of the situation but to get the chance to explore this Overworld? With this Technoblade Piglin? Their curiosity was certainly piqued. Maybe they were still too tired, and their head was pounding but there was this little voice in their head that urged them on.

That told them “Go for it. You will learn a lot! He might be your true kin.”

So, they nodded silently agreeing in Piglish “Yes. I think I am okay with it.”

#mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt x Y/N #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x Y/N #Technoblade x Reader #Technoblade x Y/N #Technoblade reader insert #Ramza writes #anon request

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henry-and-the-seven-lords · 3 years

Note

Okay, so I’ve read several Obey me boys react to a sick MC hc’s/fic but normally MC has a simple cold or fever and after watching the episodes “Suds” from Spongebob, I decided why not amplify that shit? :D (It’s more of a crack, angst, and fluff)

I’d like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to a sick!MC BUT they are gravely ill; I’m talking sunken eyes, raspy voice, vomiting after every meal, hella frail, and they just look like walking death. To make matters even scarier, MC’s eye or arm would fall off while they’re trying to calm the panicking bois.

MC: I’m fine, it was just a cough ☺️ *eye falls out* Don’t worry about that 🙂 *puts eye back in*

What makes it hurt even more is that MC’s been overworking themselves with RAD, helping the brothers, and trying to survive the Devildom to not even worry about their health. Literally demons that would ignore/threaten MC became concerned for the new human. It doesn’t help that MC just wants to help others so damn bad. If the illness strains their legs to the point of them being unable to walk, that’s not gonna stop them from physically pulling themselves to where the brothers are to help them, noodle legs and all.

MC:*is on Death’s doorstep but hears the Brothers talk about a problem in the kitchen*

Lucifer: Beel, don’t eat the jar of you can’t open it-*damn near chokes on his tongue when he sees MC dragging their body to the boys and they look even worse than usual*

MC: I can help :D

I’m messed up for such an idea and I understand if you don’t wanna do it or don’t feel comfy with it. Something about seeing these bois become hella protective and worried for MC makes my heart happy 😭

No, I would love to do it, but MC puts her eye back!? Is she a zombie? (Maybe that is a different headcannon/AU for a different day...)

I looked up the Suds (disease) forum on the spongebob wiki and it said it was the cold with extra symptoms. So MC has an extreme cold! One that makes their eyes pop out and their arms fall off... with a dash of "I was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning I break my legs, and every afternoon I break my arms, at night I lie awake in agony until my heart attacks put me to sleep."

I am stuck on how to make this a headcannon set, so these are going to blurbs of little interactions the brothers have had with a gravely ill!MC

This was really fun to write and kind of what I needed to day. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if this isn't right so I can fix it!

TW: Mentions broken bones, falling out eyes, and pulling off arms

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Brothers Reactions to a Gravely ill MC

💙 Lucifer and Beel ❤-

Lucifer has been going around the House most of the morning taking care of his Brothers in MC's stead. MC woke up with a terrible pounding in their head and he knew that they just needed to rest by how pale their skin was. Yet it was difficult for him to manage his brothers without them. Especially when it came to Beel and his appetite.

"Beel please do not eat the entire jar of peanut butter."

"But it is faster..."

"No it isn't, you just think it is-"

Lucifer stops his scolding as he hears smacking coming from the hallway. Both brothers look toward each other before slowly approaching the doorway.

There, pulling themselves by their hands across the dirty floor is MC. Their legs are twisted in a painful way behind them.

Immediately the pair run over with Beel picking them up in his arms and Lucifer inspecting their legs confusedly.

"MC, how did you do this?" Beels voice is lace with concern.

"Oh. I rolled off my bed and they ended up like that. I wanted to come and see how you were doing!" A smile fills their face as they stare at the two perplexed demons.

"Is there a way to fix something like this?" Lucifer face is filled with confusion.

"Oh yeah! Beel, set me down in the chair." The two brothers then watch as MC snaps their kneecaps back into place before beginning to giggle and swing their legs.

"See! All better! They are still a little too weak for me to walk though."

The two glance at each other completely disturbed.

Lucifer swallows the lump in his throat and eventually speaks up, "I didn't know human illnesses were so... brutal."

💚 Satan, Levi 🧡 and Belphie 💜 -

Satan, Levi, and Belphie were given some very important jobs. They were told to feed the sick human, give them medicine, and make them sleep. They were also supposed to help the human stay comfortable so there wouldn't be any incidents like this morning.

"Let me fix your pillow, MC" Satan reaches around gently fluffing it while they lean forward.

"You guys are so sweet, but you really don't have to do this. I am fine! Seriously!"

"I'm not so sure about that..." Levi as WI concern as he hold up a spoonful of soup to MC's mouth.

MC opens their mouth and hums in satisfaction as they taste it.

"Lucifer said there were some... complications... this morning and you need to be watched over. So we are here if you need anything." Belphie's voice is soft sleep as he speaks. His head rests on MC's lap as they card their fingers through his hair.

"Whatever you- Achoo!" As MC sneezes their hands cup in front of their face. When they remove them their eyeball sits in their hands.

The shock of the sneeze wakes Belphie and he sits up.

"AHHHH" Levi jumps back dropping the soup on the ground.

"What are you screaming about Levia-" Satan looks to Levi to see him pointing at MC's hands when he looks down he sees their eye staring back at him and he pales.

"Ugh, I got hair on it again." MC begins to pull off a hair as Belphie finishes rubbing his eyes and sees for himself what the commotion is about.

"Oh no. MC, I don't think this is normal." Belphie's voice is soft as he looks to MC's face.

"No, it's fine. See." MC then proceeds to pop their eye back in and the three watch in horror as it spins around until the iris is facing forward once again. All the while MC is smiling.

"This can't be a normal human disease." Levi says as he holds himself back from vomiting.

💛 Mammon and Asmo 💖 -

Asmo had offered to take care of all of MC's hygiene needs while they got better. He had thought it would be some good alone time with them. Sadly, he was interrupted when Mammon had insisted on helping bathe MC. Now MC sits in a warm bubble bath and Mammon and Asmo sit on the rim of the tub helping scrub MC arm and hair respectively.

"You both are so sweet for doing this. I would have been fine taking a shower after I got better." MC smiles quickly at Mammon and then up towards Asmo.

"Well I couldn't have you sitting in your own filth! Even though you look amazing all the time, a nice bath can relax your aching bone and make you feel better." Asmo has a chipper tone as he grabs some water from the bathtub to rinse out the shampoo.

"Yeah. Besides I couldn't have Asmo here doing it by himself. I didn't want him takin' advantage of ya in this state." Mammon grumbled as he gently tugged on MC's arm while scrubbing.

"I would never take advantage of them, Mammon. I am not some scumbag like you." Asmo's voice got louder as he began to scrub harder.

"I ain't no scumbag! Tell him MC!" As he speaks he tugs a little harder and the pair he a tear as MC's arm comes off at the shoulder. MC winces at the sound.

"Mammon, what did you do to my precious MC!?" Asmo clings to MC's head trying to pull them as far away from Mammon as possible.

"Nothing! I wasn't pulling that hard! Was I MC? I thought I was being gentle?!" Mammon's voice is frantic as he still holds MC's arm.

MC snatches the arm back before saying, "Calm down. Both of you. It's fine."

With a loud popping sound MC pushes their shoulder back into place. They sigh in relief and swing their arm to make sure the limb still works.

"There we go. You don't know how cold your shoulder bone gets without an arm attached to it."

MC then ducks their head below the water rinsing the rest of the shampoo out. While the two demons sit there completely dazed.

So that is what Lucifer tried to warn them about.

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lilahisntsadanymore · 2 years

Text

Rafe’s dad and Y/n’s dad are rivals, but the boy and the girl fall in love. One night Y/n’s dad found out about their relationship and got angry. Eventually Rafe and Y/n decide to run away.

This wasn’t requested, but requests are open! I write for obx, hp and dps.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Y/d/n - your dad’s name

Y/m/n - your mom’s name

Words count: 1.6k

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

Modern Romeo & Juliet

Despite both families being Kooks, the Y/l/ns and the Camerons were never getting along. Y/d/n Y/l/n and Ward Cameron had similar businesses, they were rivals and would gladly lead one another to bankruptcy.

Unfortunately for them, their kids were getting along well. Y/n met Sarah Cameron through a mutual friend, Kiara, and they instantly became best friends. Y/n started coming over to Sarah, where she made friends with the youngest Cameron sibling - Wheezie, and the oldest Cameron sibling - Rafe. Later on, Y/n began hanging out with Rafe more than with Sarah. They simply fell for each other.

The relationship had been a secret until one evening. After a date, Rafe gave Y/n a ride home on his motorcycle.

"See you tomorrow." Rafe said as they both got off of the motorcycle.

"Yeah, see you." Y/n took his jaw in her hands and kissed him.

Rafe put his hands on Y/n's waist to pull her in, then his hands slid down to the girl's butt. She smiled and broke the kiss.

"Goodnight, Rafe."

"Yeah, goodnight."

The girl watched her boyfriend drive away, then she walked inside her house. It was pretty late, so she tried to make as little noise as possible. She walked to the kitchen to drink a glass of water before going to bed. What the girl didn't expect to see, was her father. He was waiting for her. She didn't see him at first, so she accidentally dropped the glass when she heard his voice.

"I saw it. I will not tolerate you hanging around with this boy." He announced.

Y/n turned around to face her father. The glass was broken in the sink, but thankfully it didn't hurt Y/n.

"How much did you see?" She asked.

"Enough to stop it from going any further."

"But I love Rafe."

"Love? You're 19, you don't know shit about love. He's a son of my rival, he will only try to steal our company's secrets."

"I know what it seems like, but Rafe isn't like that."

"He's exactly like his father, they're both manipulative and willing to do anything for their own benefit. Clean up the broken glass before you go to your room."

And with those words, Y/d/n left the kitchen. Y/n threw the glass in the trash and basically ran to her room, completely forgetting that she wanted to drink some water. She locked the door of her room and decided to text Rafe.

Y/n

You home?

Rafe

Yeah, what's up baby?

Y/n

MY DAD FOUND OUT ABOUT US

Rafe

Oh shit

Y/n

Yeah, oh shit. OH FUCKING SHIT

He said I have to stop seeing you

And you're manipulative

Basically, you're using me

For your dad's company benefit

Rafe

I mean I do use you ;) not in that way tho

Y/n

What do we do now?

Rafe

Have you read Romeo and Juliet?

Y/n

You're saying we should run away?

Rafe

What's better than that to prove we're actually in love?

Y/n

Rafe baby do you realize how Romeo and Juliet ended?

Rafe

I'll be at your place in a few, don't fall asleep and don't leave your room

Y/n

No Rafe

Rafe

Rafe we're not running away

RAFE

!!!

The boy didn't answer. Y/n started panicking, his plan was mental. Running away could only anger her dad more. Plus now also Rafe's family would find out. No, no, no, this couldn't end well.

Rafe's house was close to Y/n's house, so the boy was there in a few minutes for the second time that night. Y/n heard a new text in her phone, so she looked at the screen.

Rafe

Pack the most important shit and go outside

Y/n

You're crazy. See you in a few mins

Y/n took a gym-looking bag and packed some clothes and all the money she had. Rafe didn't seem to be joking, so she also took her phone charger and some food from the kitchen. Before leaving, Y/n wrote a small note to her dad.

Me and Rafe are running away. I don't know when or if we will be back, don't search for us. I'll be safe.

Love, Y/n

As the girl placed the note on the kitchen table, she made sure she didn't forget about anything and walked outside. Rafe was waiting for her outside his dad's car.

"What took you so long?" Rafe asked.

"Packing all this shit last minute." Y/n answered, opening the passenger door of the car. Her eyes widened when she saw a gun on the seat.

Rafe realized he forgot to hide the gun he decided to take with them. He quickly and qently pushed Y/n away so that he could take the gun and hide it behind his belt.

"Rafe, why do you have a gun?" Y/n's terrified voice asked.

"You never know what can happen, yeah?" Rafe answered in a casual tone.

"That's scary."

"Me trying to protect us is scary? Just get in the car."

Y/n got in the car, Rafe did the same and started the car. Y/n watched him while his eyes were on the road. She didn't expect him to own a gun. That was scary, there was no need for a gun. Y/n checked the time on her phone. Currently, it was 1am.

"Turn your phone off, baby," Rafe ordered, but his voice didn't sound harsh, "they might track us down when they notice we're gone."

"Does your dad know? Does Rose know?" Y/n asked.

"Not yet, they were asleep. It's not their business honestly. I love you." He put his right hand on Y/n's thigh and squeezed it gently.

"I love you too." Y/n smiled.

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

When Y/d/n and Y/m/n woke up, they didn't know yet that something is wrong. Y/n liked to sleep long. When they came to the kitchen for breakfast, they saw the note Y/n left. Y/m/n read it out loud. She didn't know what happened, she was confused because, well, all the action happened in the middle of the night.

"What? What is this about?" The woman asked, still holding the note in her shaking hands.

Y/d/n ripped the paper out of his wife's hands and read it again, as if he didn't believe it. Then, he put it on the table, basically slamming his hand on the surface.

"I can't believe it. I can't believe she really ran away with him!" He hollered.

After explaining the situation to Y/m/n, the man quickly walked to his car and drove to the Cameron's house. Of course, he took Y/n's note with him.

He banged his fist on the door aggressively and ran the bell several times. After a minute, Rose Cameron opened the door. Ward stood right behind her. They both had worried expressions on their faces.

"Your son." Y/d/n pointed at Ward.

"It's not the right time." Rafe's father said. "Rafe disappeared, we don't know where he is."

"Your son kidnapped my daughter!"

"What do you mean?"

"He manipulated her into running away." Y/d/n pulled out the note, weaving it in the Camerons' faces. "Don't tell me it isn't another one of your shenanigans."

Ward took the paper and held it in his hands so that he and Rose could read it. He spoke again after he read it.

"We really didn't know about their plans. Please come inside so we can talk."

Y/d/n hesitantly walked inside, Rose gestured him to go to the living room. They all sat there and began talking about the situation.

"We had no idea there was something going on between them." Ward admitted. "Rafe didn't say anything, we could stop them."

"That's exactly why he didn't talk about it." Rose pointed out. "He was afraid of your reaction. They both were."

"I found out about them just yesterday." Y/d/n announced. "Apparently, they were making out in front of my house after one of their God knows how many dates."

"Who was making out?" Wheezie asked, entering the living room.

"Rafe disappeared with Y/d/n's daughter." Rose said to her.

"Have you tried tracking their phones?"

Ward remembered about an app he used for tracking his family members. He was claiming it keeps everything organized. He decided to try tracking Rafe's phone.

"It can't track him." Ward announced after a few tries. "He could have turned his phone off."

"Can you try that with Y/n's phone?" Y/d/n asked.

"It's pointless," Rose chimed in, "we have to tell the police about it."

"No, can't you see it?" Wheezie interrupted them. "They ran away because they knew you wouldn't let them be together."

"Of course we wouldn't!" Ward and Y/d/n disclaimed together.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps on the floor and right after that, Sarah walked into the room.

"What are you yelling about?" She asked.

"Rafe and Y/n ran away." Wheezie explained.

"Sarah, sweetie, please help us find them or, I don't know, just help us make them come back." Rose begged.

"Firstly, you have to accept their relationship."

"That is not going to happen." Y/d/n declined.

"They can't be together." Ward added.

"Why? Just because of your silly little rivalry? Let them live their lives. Just because they're your children, they don't need to continue your rivalry. Love isn’t a choice.”

The argue kept going on and on. At least Ward and Y/d/n agreed on this one topic - their kids couldn’t be together. Little did they know, as they were wasting time on arguing, Y/n and Rafe were already somewhere in Illinois. What were they doing there? What was the point of stopping there? They had no idea, but they had fun. The couple was on their path to the west coast without a particular reason and Illinois just happened to be on the way. They could start a new life in Los Angeles, Y/n loved Malibu. Or they could come back home in a few days. Or weeks. It didn’t matter. For now, nothing mattered to Rafe and Y/n. As long as they had each other, life was perfect.

#Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe Cameron fanfic #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron one shot #obx imagine #obx one shot #Outer banks imagine #Outer banks one shot #obx x reader #Outer banks x reader

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Familiar - The Darkling x Reader

He was living his worst nightmare. You were in danger because of him. He swore to protect you, to get himself caught in the crossfire if it meant saving you but right now he was useless and you were suffering. He didn't know where you were or who took you from the Palace, the place he said was like a fortress, the safest place in Ravka. You were swiped from right under his nose, most likely roughly and mercilessly and it was all because you loved him.

He never wanted anyone to know of your relationship, you were his most protected and valued secret and he would put his life on the line to keep it that way. But now you were gone and he couldn't bare to look at himself. The promise he made to you was broken and he let you down.

For our love is a ghost that the others can't see

You agreed with it too, knowing that you would immediately become a target if Aleksander introduced you as his. But here you were now, sitting in the back of a moving coach, gagged and handcuffed with a blood and tear stained face.

The ride was more bumpy and painful than it was at the start, having now been on it for at least 4 hours, you knew you were far from home and heading to Fjerda.

The realization hit you as soon as you felt a pair of strong hands at your wrists, holding them apart in the safety of your chambers to prevent you from summoning. The festivities were loud and blocked out your shouts of self-defense and cries for help. That's where Aleksander's protection had run out, right there in your shared rooms.

You cursed yourself as more tears slipped out your eyes, you were a fool who didn't listen to their own advice. Ravka didn't know about you, the Darkling seemingly had no weaknesses until your irrationally tipsy behavior. Tonight's stupid actions would cost you your life.

---------------------

'Enjoying the celebrations?' You held your fourth champagne glass of the night tightly in your hand as you walked up to Aleksander and Ivan. They were all business and no party as the Little Palace roared to life following a day of successful business negotiations. Grisha of all orders let loose and had fun, forgetting the troubles of war as foreign delegations joined in, all in unity for a single night of fun.

The Zemeni were dancing with the Kerch, the Shu were peacefully discussing with the Kaelish, it was a utopia. Your own mind was for once calm, be it the champagne or the vibes you didn't know and didn't care.

'You did a very good job Y/N, I'm impressed.' Ivan gestured to the party and pride filled you. It was stressful and nerve-racking to plan a banquet of this magnitude, but seeing it all accomplished and with no fights made you unbelievably happy.

'Thank you Ivan. Go enjoy yourself, I'm sure Fedyor is looking for you.'

He walked away just as you'd hoped, leaving you and Aleksander alone. You moved a step closer, taking his hand in yours.

'It is magnificent darling, you look magnificent too.' His head dipped as it usually did when he was about to kiss you, but he stopped himself and instead looked around the room, inspecting it to make sure no one was watching him.

'Relax, we're in a large crowd, I highly doubt anyone is paying us any mind.' With the foreign ambassadors here, Aleksander's black attire was balanced out with black tuxedos and suits. He wasn't sticking out anymore, he blended in. You wanted to be with him, and perhaps you could be right now.

'If you say so' Although your words did something to reassure him, his sweet lips were brief on yours. It was a short kiss, but he somehow conveyed his love for you in that quick second before he was back to his usual General persona.

'Alright General Kirigan, I'll go annoy Genya.' You joked and in the process knocked the glass over onto your fine silk kefta. 'Shit'

You didn't miss the look of amusement on his face as you tried to dry the stain with your sleeve. 'Or I'll go and change' you laughed, leaning into his laughing body.

You were certain the moment was intimate and private, that nobody was watching, but a pair of eyes closely watched the scene from afar, mouth open ajar as he found the Darkling's only weakness; You.

--------------

'Moi Soverenyi what is the meaning of all this?' Ivan didn't expect to be dragged out of bed at this hour and see the General's inner circle crowded around his war table in their nightclothes. He thought the banquet went well: nobody fought or got injured or even argued, it was the perfect night so to speak. But the powerful Grisha still dressed in his silk black kefta was restless and panicked.

His hair was disheveled and he looked ready to kill as he stood with his back to everyone, facing the big map of Ravka. The room was silent save for a few yawns and sighs. Nobody knew anything about why they were there but the tension surrounding their commander was hostile and frightening.

'Y/N Y/L/N is missing from Palace grounds. I think she may have been taken.' Ivan stilled, he was the only person in the room who knew of the relationship between his General and you and had grown to like your refreshing presence. He cared for you in a brotherly way and your disappearance ignited a fury in him.

'I need you searching the streets, interrogating the delegates, anything we can to bring her back.' His face was still turned away from them, and Ivan knew he wouldn't turn around.

Aleksander was beside himself with worry and guilt, he was on the verge of tears. You were gone and it was his fault. His mind was swirling with the accusations and the self-hate, but also with memories of you. Your life echoed around the walls of his head, bouncing off of his heart with a shatter.

He wasn't going to wake up tomorrow next to you curled up in his arms. He wasn't going to hear you rant over breakfast. You were gone and it was his fault.

He was trying so hard to devise a plan to find you, to command his Grisha and be a General, but in that moment he was just Aleksander, Y/N's Aleksander. Worry took up his mind and all the commanding bones in his body yearned to have you next to him.

He turned his head briefly to Ivan, who had the same expression on his face that Genya wore when he woke her up searching for Y/N. She was already out in the streets of Os Alta with David, trying their luck with tracking your jewelry.

'We leave in 10 minutes. Every single Grisha in the Second Army will be used if need be.' If you listened closely, you could hear the edge to his voice, a slight pang of heartbreak and anguish. He was trying to hide it, but alas he was only a man.

The Grisha started muttering amongst themselves and Ivan caught a few words of their conversations and couldn't help but let the rage rise in him 'She's not even that good of a soldier.....' 'Who is that?' 'I want to go back to bed....'

'A foreign dignitary had the audacity to kidnap a Grisha after we let them into our home and you speak of going to bed?'

'Ivan.' Fedyor warned him.

'Moi Soverenyi, with all due respect, Y/L/N was simply a teacher to the younger Grisha, not a high-ranking soldier with valuable intel. Should we really assume a kidnapping happened? For all we know it was desertion. Y/N found a good moment to slip out and escaped.'

Every shade of us you fade down to keep

Them in the dark on who we are

The second those words were spoken by Polina, Aleksander's black shadows let loose. They crept up her legs and around her throat, tightening and tightening until air could no longer enter the inferni's lungs. She was petrified, she was simply stating another perspective on the situation but her General's and Ivan's responses told her her opinion was not wanted at all.

Aleksander stopped himself before he killed her. It was his fault, all of it. His Grisha didn't take this seriously because they didn't know who Y/N truly was to him, perhaps a secret ready to be shared, spoke a voice deep in the back of his head, not your voice though. He wouldn't tell anyone anything until he had your approval. If he ever got it.

'Believe me, Y/N was no deserter.'

'10 minutes!' Barked Ivan at the Grisha when none of them moved from their tired trance.

-----

You didn't know Fjerdan fluently but you knew enough to make out the most important words 'We crossed the border', 'Witch', 'let her burn'. It was enough to drown your hope of escaping and coming home to Aleksander and your Grisha.

You never got involved in any war or fighting, simply choosing to teach the young students the basics of summoning. It made you content and happy, whereas war made you anxious and nervous. Your body had only ever known the luxuries of the Little Palace, the feel of a pen or book in your hands. To add to it, your powers were never used in a defensive way only summoned when you taught, so this was a drastic turn of events to say the least.

Being dragged and beaten by the Fjerdans, insulted in a foreign language, and cuffed so the one comfort you had available to you was useless, brought you to your knees despite the initial training you received when you joined the Second-Army. I am no soldier, I am a teacher.

The border had been crossed and you were officially a Fjerdan captive, ready to sit a trail where you would be found guilty and hanged for your gifts. The chances of Aleksander finding you were slim to none as you tried to remember if any clues were left behind at the scene of your kidnapping. The Fjerdans were quick and concise, neat and skilled, leaving no traces of their presence in your chambers.

The back of the carriage yanked open and let in the evening sun, blinding you in the process. You stopped counting the time after the 8th hour passed and your space was still pitch black. The shadows once were a comfort, now they were simply a tool to frighten you even more.

'Let's go, Witch.' A tall man spoke as he grabbed you by the arm, dragging you as if you didn't weigh anything. You complied, not seeing a reason to tire yourself by fighting back. It was pointless and futile.

You were in the middle of nowhere, a field of open green space with patches of snow. Fjerda. You'd never been anywhere near the border even, but the cold wind was whiplash-inducing just as Aleksander once described it.

'I thought I am to face trial.' You had barely spoken a word in fear in the carriage but the suspicion had rousted you to mutter the words.

'You? I'd rather kill you right here' joked the man and his companions laughed along as if what you said was the beginnings of a hilarious joke. 'You are the Demon's vulnerability, we hurt him for revenge' He pushed you to your knees roughly.

This love is gonna be the death of me

It's a danger

'So I am to die in a field?'

'Not before you tell us everything about the Darkling' then a kick to your stomach shut down your senses.

-------

'We are crossing into Fjerda Moi Soverenyi' Ivan shouted over the galloping horses. Not even 2 minutes after the meeting, Fedyor noticed 3 Fjerdan delegates missing from their rooms in the Little Palace and raced to tell his General who was now fiercely riding his black stallion with a fury no one dared to comment on. He had Squallers feeling the air for you, Durasts tracking your jewelry, and Heartrenderers listening to heartbeats as they all made their way up to Fjerda, the enemy country.

As time passed, the fear rose and turned into a strange combination of denial and grief. Aleksander tried to desperately shoo it away, to rid the thought as it came. You were alive. You had to be.

He felt his crew getting restless and tired but he didn't dare slow his pace. His stallion seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and for lack of a better word, legged it as his master requested.

'General, we think we can feel something.' The Durast and Squaller riding right behind him suddenly burst out. 'About 5 miles northeast, I can direct us from there.' The man in the purple kefta bellowed and Aleksander's heart picked up the pace to a deadly rhythm. He was immortal, but he was sure this was going to be the death of him.

---------

It took every ounce of courage and pride to not give in but you hurt all over. Your ribs were cracked, lungs quickly collapsing, your arms and legs unmoving. The only aspect of you that looked normal was your face

'I'll leave it, let him see you dead in a coffin with only your pretty face as a reminder of how disgusting he is, how disgusting all of you are.'

You had told them nothing, not a word, not even a cry of pain to satisfy them. If these were truly your last moments, you wouldn't go down as a traitor. Your eyes closed on their own accord a while ago, your ears stopped listening when you heard the first bone crack in your leg.

You didn't see Aleksander's shadows flood the field, cutting down everything in his path. You didn’t hear the Fjerdans scream out in pain and fear. There was blood everywhere, not just yours as he ran to you.

'HEALERS NOW' you didn't see him, you didn't hear him, but he saw you beaten and dying right in front of him. His hands traced the side of your face lovingly as a small tear escaped his eye. You felt it, his touch on yours and your lip pulled up in the faintest smile you could manage. He was here.

Ivan was next to you in an instant, attempting to quicken your heartbeat, fill your weak lungs with air and keep you alive but his shaking hands were rigid and stiff with fear at the possibility of losing his friend. The other Grisha watched with perplexed faces as they quickly approached, the Healers running for dear life to get to you in time. You were only a teacher in their eyes, not the General's love or the Heartrenderers comrade.

'Y/N you'll be okay, I promise.' Aleksander left a kiss against your forehead, keeping his lips there for as long as he could before the red keftas swarmed around you and fought to save your dwindling life.

And the dark was opening wide, do or die

You registered his touch, his kiss, before the itching took over and the pain slowly lifted. The darkness was back as a comfort and death seemed far away.

The Darkling only had one weakness, one vulnerability, and only one reoccurring nightmare; the death of Y/N Y/L/N and he made sure to let the world know if you ever came to harm, he would kill anyone and anything in his path.

------

Here’s my masterlist 🥰

Taglist (Tell me if you want to be added!!)

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hi <3 I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing this but I'll try :) Smth where Buckys girlfriend suffers from a lung illness and normally he supports her whenever she feels bad, but one time he's on a long mission where he cant be there when he struggles breathing. Then the other Avengers at the compound take her to the hospital and call Buck who immediately rushes home to be by your side and it's all cute and fluffy in the end? :) Thank you very much <3

Trapped Air

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst on a mission, you suffer with your breathing problems, leaving all to panic as you have air trapped in your lungs.

Warnings | breathing problems, angst, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of torture

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

There had been no call back from Bucky; he was on a mission far away, and deep undercover, and the fact that you had no response did not surprise you, however, it was impossible not to feel overcome with worry.

From what you knew, he was somewhere in Austria with Steve, and most likely irritated by the company of Sam. The thought of them together, waiting for further intel made you smile, and so you sat up on the sofa; the place where you had fallen into a rural slumber late the previous evening. That thought also made you lightly snicker to yourself, and had you grasping your chest in agony at the action.

You adjusted your seat on the sofa, kicking the blanket under your legs as you tried to relax your entire body. To subdue the worry for your love that you had and were experiencing, you and Nat had watched a movie, your head running with thoughts of the danger that your boyfriend was possibly under.

It was no doubt that James Buchanan Barnes, the White Wolf and former Winter Soldier was a fine fighter; he had endured and survived wars, achieving victory in the vast majority of his battles. But still, he was nothing more than a man, with a veil of serum coursing through his veins, and whilst it made him much stronger, he was still sustainable to injury, and worse.

Countless times had you seen him braised in bruises, and kissed along the seam of his scars, and though he had lived through decades, and still appeared unscathed considering the circumstances, he was a mortal man, able to die and it was far too clear for your scared eyes that he wouldn’t be able to survive every fall.

An emptiness peeled away inside of you as you placed the phone down, resting your head upon the arm of the sofa of where you had done so priorly. Taking a deep breath, you wheezed, feeling nothing more than internal pain, and it was not just for your longing to see Bucky again. It was indeed something else, a condition that you had grown used to over the years.

It had taken everything from you; the job that you had so well partook in was diminished to being unsuitable for your health. Being an avenger had once been your only purpose, but it had been the one thing that had broken you. From all the rubble and other pesticides that you had breathed in, it had tampered with your lungs, and made you to be nothing more than a victim, a fallen hero.

The worse thing about being fallen in such a way was that you had not died on the job, instead, you were being tormented every time you watched your friends leave the compound, carrying a duffel bag that had all the necessities that they could possibly need for the gruelling months ahead on the missions that they had been sent on.

Knowing that if you weren’t so inwardly broken and that if that were the case, you could have easily accompanied Bucky and the others on their uncover op made you feel worthless, and disposable. As your chest raked the air that surpassed its roots, it waded a feeling through every limb that was attached to you.

Large gulps from the air machine that was beside you usually helped, but as your brought the medically introverted oxygen mask to surround the lower half of your face, the torturous sensation failed to fade. It remained, stuck in the collapse of your airways, refusing to allow air into your defined bloodstream.

The factor alone had you panicking, and as you went to stand, there was a pounding fire coursing through your head. Your eyes got dreary, fluttering as you reached out to grasp for the side of the seating area to stabilise your steps. But it wasn’t enough, all of your weight leant to one side, and a loud and colossal smash echoed through the room.

You helplessly laid there, having no ability to get up, as the shards of the glass table that had tried to break your fall, and had ended up breaking instead, stabbed mercilessly into the canvas of your back. It made you feel like a dartboard, free to the attempts of anything that put a bet on to try. This was your final fall from greatness, and if you weren’t to survive this, that would be o-

“Y/n.” A voice rushed out, as footsteps scrambled to come to your side. The silouhette of a blurry man knelt beside you, sickened with their own scheme of panic. “Nat!” He called out towards the kitchen, you hearing the pitter patter of her assumed footsteps that were toed in competent heels.

“Clint, what happened?” She asked, but giving him a break to compose his answer as she called warily out for FRIDAY, relieved when the AI answered her order. “Get one of Stark’s cars ready to go to the hospital, inform who needs to know. Y/n’s just had a nasty fall, and I assume more.”

“She was like this when I got in here.” Was the archer’s delirious response. His hands raised your head out of the cracked pieces, gently picking the sharp crystals out of your hair. He was sick with worry, he knew that you were touring a difficult road, one that no one else on the team could fathom to understand, but despite all that, he was still there for you, as were the numerous others.

Wearing his priceless suit, Tony rushed into the room, his brown eyes blown wide as he scoped the scene. “She’s losing consciousness.” Nat informed the pair, focusing on how your eyes barely had the strength to stay open. Your breathing was laboured, and the choke emitting from it was audible, making all witnesses wince from the threatening sound.

“My car is ready, on our way to the ER, give Barnes a call.” He held the keys to his vehicle, swinging them around his finger, as he watched Clint and Natasha hoist you up, and support you through the journey to the front of the compound. Nat stroked your hair as she bit back her own tears, combing tenderly through the slightly bloody tresses to soothe her own present anxiety.

The mission was turning out to be a bust, they were tracking Zemo after his great escape; hence why their departure was classified. It was unknown why the once Baron of Sokovia had fled to the country, but all prior intel had supported the idea that he was searching for a partner to help finish his work, if he were to ever get caught by the American government again.

Bucky hated being away from the place that had slowly become his home. It made him feel lost, but if he wanted to remain within said area to continue his life, he had to follow Fury’s orders, or else the panel that had granted him freedom for all his past actions, may happen to change his mind.

The gig of being an avenger was more of Steve’s expertise, he was loved by the country, and had never tried to break its order down piece by piece. Before he was cleared to join the team, and the debate that lead to Steve and Tony siding against one another, he was nothing more than a tense ghost story.

All knew he was real, but most were too scared to admit that the Winter Solider was an assassinating figure in existence. To everyone’s dismay now, following rule number two, he was no longer HYDRA’s pet weapon. He, for the first time in his life, had some kind of clarity on who he was.

His identity, was James Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the protector of the world and a renounced ally of Wakanda. And he was happy to be known as such, in a way, the new him cleared his red ledger, and that faded away with that damned red book.

No one had the power to control his mind again, all of his actions were now completely up to him. At first, with the reign over himself, he had been unsure on how to start with this new and invented soldier that he had become. He was no longer taking refuge behind the facade of T’Challa’s country anymore, for he was no a wanted man of the state.

But Sam enjoyed prodding at his ‘cyborg brain’, driving him to certain frustration. Though, it did not matter as much, for he found the peace he had been searching for after that little bit of calm that he had experienced on his hideaway.

You. A retired avenger, that had kicked his ass, and continued to brag about it to this day, when he was under Pierce’s demeaning orders. Though, it saddened him, to have the knowledge that you no longer had the ability to pin him down on a training mat, or throw his best friend’s shield in his silent face.

There was no longer an ignition of strength to fight left within you, you were weak from the condition that had and was holding you hostage in its devastating grasp. The debts of your god deeds had wormed their way through your body, destroying it bit by bit.

Whenever he was away, missing the presence that you had once accompanied him with, he was unable but to do anything but worry about your struggling health. He feared that one day, he would get a call claiming that you had experienced a traumatic accident, and as he sat in the small and cluttered motel room, the vibrancy and life that his phone was off putting had him nervously on edge.

“It’s Fury.” He claimed to his rugged partners, putting the man that had regained control of his empire on loud speaker, awaiting for the patch wearing associate to respond to his acceptance of the call. A moment of silence had him standing, the next, caused him to pace. Steve frowned, well aware that Fury only went silent, and did not barking affirmative orders when something had happened.

That man was an absolute whore for the dramatics, he had even faked his own death on multiple accounts. There was nothing the man could fathom not to do, and this sure as hell, in the name of Goose, was not the first instance he had informed his recruits of shocking factors. Steve remembered when the dark clothed man informed him that he was in the 21st century, and to this day, it remained to be the greatest shock that he had experienced.

The second had got to be the reveal of Bucky’s survival, that heart stopping moment had gone in slow motion, as the soldat whipped his unmasked face around to face his opponents, and he was quickly recognised. You had been there to ease the confusion and the humongous shock that wired his brain. And not to mention, to soothe the wave of emotions, you had prompted at jokes at about kicking his best friend’s fine ass.

That had only been the start to a long road ahead, it had all seemed like your quad of rebelling would go on forever. Sam Wilson was your best friend, and the first to be told of your failure to continue your raids on missions, and to say that he was holding back fountains in his eyes, was a casual understatement. The Falcon had felt angry at himself for not realising the increase in coughs that fled from your sassy mouth, or how quickly you would get tired.

He put some of that blame upon himself, claiming that he should have been the first to notice the signs. It was his idea, before your struggles were revealed to anyone else, to refuse your aid on missions, which lead to conspiracies from the team. For a couple of weeks, the members that you had fought alongside for so long had speculated that you were pregnant,and even Bucky had even began to fall for that idea.

In the end, they had all wished for that to be true, a child would be a gift, whereas instead, you were bestowed with a curse. Sam had offered for you to stay with Sarah and the kids, but upon your insistence, you remained in the compound, organising files and watching cinematic classics for the thousandth time.

But anyone could see, that every time they discussed the missions, of left to endure them, your face fell, appeased by the thought that you’d never share that experience again. They all tried to distract you, Thor had even taken you on a vacation to New Asgard so that you could relax and play video games with Korg, yelling frustratedly at Noobmaster69 as the kid tried to spite your friend and his gaming skills.

That though, had not ended well, and instead, the noise had brought you insufferable pain, and you had to be taken home. But what was home anymore? You hardly felt as though you belonged upon the army of your friends, or the guardians that they were aligned with.

And so, it was very understandable why Bucky was inclined to worry. All his dragged our life, he had watched people die, or awakened from cryo to find them gone, and the split moments that he were required on missions, was another moment that he had lost with you.

He gulped as he waited for Fury to say something, anything! And when he did, he wished that he could go back in time, and stop you from ever having been an avenger. “It’s agent Y/L/N, something has happened...”

It had been hours of no news, and Stark tapped his well dressed foot. He had requested, - no, insisted the best doctors to tend to your internal and external injury, claiming that if your condition was made any worse, he would personally make sure that they never tended to another patient again.

He was not usually one to be so aggressive, but he feared loss, it was a great flaw and attribute of his. Possibly, in some people’s judgemental eyes, he cared too much, but he never thought so. To him, the billionaire was human, no matter what the citizens over the world thought of him.

Sure, he wore an iron suit to protect the world, but beneath all the metal, he had a heart. And he’d be damned sure that he used it, and that it beat for a purpose. Natasha and Clint were either side of him, the assassins on her phone as she read the captain’s well written message.

“They’ve entered the country.” She spoke, referring to Sam, Bucky and Steve. It was a relief that they were going to be here soon, then they’d all look sane in comparison to Barnes. It was doubtful that he was holding himself together well, these hours had been torture to all of them, but he had actually been tortured in multiple gruelling occasions, but it was nothing in comparison to this.

One of the country’s best and devoted doctors opened the door to the room that you were being stabilised in, leading to all eyes waiting outside to stare hopefully at him. It was an intimidating thing, to have three avengers leaving him with one of their owns lives in his hands, he was not a hero. But to them, he was to be, they trusted him and the various recommendations that had suggested that he would be best suited to the deed.

The fact that he was the man in charge in this situation was to be great steak in his career, though, he would never be able to anyone, not even family, that he had saved the life of an avenger. Due to doctor patient confidentially, he was bribed into silence by the philanthropist himself, who was certain that he was fine for paying for the entire service himself.

Money had no importance to Tony, not as his friend was the patient that could have died. The man removed his sunglasses, sternly looking up at the kind doctor with pleading and urgent eyes, wanting to scoop every detail that he could from the eccentric medic. “How is she?”

The doctor gulped, well aware that there was a weight apparent on his shoulders, even when delivering any news. But this, was a whole new experience, he knew that you, the woman hoisted up in the hospital bed, had saved his coursing during the battle of New York. He was grateful, for everything that you had done, but simultaneously, felt the need to be careful with any tactic that he used to save your life.

“Well,” he licked his dry lips, watching as the Black Widow herself stared into his soul, “she’s stable, for now. And it would be okay if one of you went in, she’s currently in the midst of waking up. However, she is going to be unable to give much in the verse of a conversation, the oxygen mask that she’s wearing has to stay on, and it will not be a good if she tries to waste the breath she’s being given to talk.”

He was interrupted by the sound of competent running down the hall, it was as though the men dressed in their gear ignored the no running rule. But it was understandable, seeing as Bucky’s eyes were wild and wide, as he came to a stop and asked what was going on. Clint stood, bracing a hand upon his shoulder, before informing him the details they had just been given. “I think you should be the first to see her.”

Bucky didn’t argue with Clint, and instead, walked into the room, ensuring that he shut the door behind himself. He smiled painfully at the sight; there were so many tubes, and all the surrounding machines were lit up with statistics that he did not understand. Nevertheless, he looked towards the vacant seat beside your bed, and claimed it for his ass that you had once kicked.

Your eyes watched as he looked down upon you, your hands reaching to remove the mask, but he placed his hand upon your own, and replaced them to be upon your chest. “Shush darling, no talking, doctor’s orders.” He spoke, rubbing your cheek with his right hand, feeling the corner of the mask against the inside of his palm.

“Had me so worried doll, thought I was gonna lose you.” At the thought, a grimace presented itself of his woeful face, and to comfort him, you placed your fingers around his own, absentmindedly playing with them as you listened to his sincere voice. “On the way here, I spoke to Shuri, we are going to see if she can help you in anyway, as long as you’re okay with that. Does that sound good baby?”

Fluttering your eyelashes as you looked through their webbed curtain to stare lovingly at him, you nodded your head, ignoring the spiteful pains that emitted from where the glass had shallowly penetrated your scalp. “Alright, I’ll let her know. And I was thinking...” he waited for a moment to continue, being encouraged by the crease between his brow line.

“What if we stay in Wakanda, and we leave all this behind? We can still see people when they visit, and we can just, have some calm to ourselves. No missions, no aliens to fight, and no Zemo to chase. Or I was thinking, we go and live by Sarah, you love those kids, they’re basically your nephews, and we could take boat rides during the middle of the night, and help the people who live there, and...”

At his rambling, you smiled beneath the plastic system that was around your mouth, listening to him talk and talk about your future together. Yes, you missed missions, but you would give all that up for a normal and easy life, with Bucky Barnes.

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 3 years

Text

Useless | Kaz Brekker x Sister!Reader

Requested by @inquistitorebony : “Hey could you please do a kaz x Sister reader please where she has some medical issues and is really weak and gets inured on a job with kaz and he get all protective brother mode”

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sister!reader, Jesper x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1297 (I havent proof read because its late and im tired so this might change tomorrow)

Warnings: angsty stuff and sibling fluff

A/N: I didn't specify what the readers condition is so you can personalise that as you want. As always, spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Masterlist

- - - - -

“We’re all clear on the plan?”

The Crows nod in reply to Kaz and hurry off to prepare for the task ahead, leaving you stood alone with your brother.

“What about me?” You ask

“What about you?” he replies as he gathers up the floor plans, blueprints and various other papers spread on the table.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Relax. Read a book. Whatever you want to do while you’ve got this place to yourself” he walks away.

“Place to myself…” you stand up and follow him “No, Kaz, I’m coming with you!”

“Absolutely not. You're staying here and that’s an order”

“An order?” You laugh "Who do you think you are? The General?”

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you.

“I’m serious Y/N. This job is too dangerous, especially with your condition.”

“My condition? What about you?” You gesture to his cane “If you can do it then so can I”

“You're weak”

“No weaker than you”

“Y/N!

“Kaz!”

You reach a stalemate as the two of you stare at each other, each waiting for the other to back down. He’s stubborn. But so are you.

“I think she should come” Jesper breaks the silence.

“Stay out of this Jesper” Kaz warns, still not taking his eyes off you.

“Oh come on Kaz!” Jesper continues “You know she’s the best actor here…we could really use her help distracting the guards.”

“I could even use my condition. Guards can’t resist helping a poor sick girl. Please Kaz, let me prove I’m not useless” you flash your puppy eyes at him until eventually he lets out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine! But if your condition gets worse you head straight to the meet up point. Okay?”

“Yes sir” you salute and he rolls his eyes before heading off to his office. You look over to Jesper, a big grin on your face as you thank him.

— — — —

The job had started off smooth.

The guards completely fell for your ‘poor sick girl’ act and were fully distracted trying to help you. They didn’t notice Jesper sneak past the door or Inej scale the side of the building, effortlessly pulling herself up onto the roof. They did however notice the loud crash as something came smashing through one of the upstairs windows. The three of you jumped as you turn to see what had caused the damage.

Your heart sank as your eyes fell upon a familiar cane laying on the pavement in a pool of broken glass, blood covering the metal crows head.

“KAZ!” You yell as you make a run toward the building entrance but you're stopped by the on of the guards holding you back while the other sprints past you to investigate.

“I cant let you in there”

“Let go of me!” You fight to try and free yourself “I have to find my brother!”

“You're brother?” The guard asks, holding you even tighter and you curse yourself as you realise what you’ve said “Was this the plan? You distract the guards while he robs the place?”

“Please let me go”

“The only place you're going is jail where you belong”

You fight again but you can feel your strength leaving you at a rapid rate. You swing your legs wildly and manage to kick the guard in just the right place. He yells and throws you down to the floor, your head hitting the pavement with a loud thud. You groan as you roll onto your back, clutching your throbbing head in your hands. Your vision is blurry but you can just about make out the guard looming toward you, gun in hand pointed at you.

“Assaulting a guard is a crime punishable by death”

You allow the pain to take over and let your eyes flicker shut as you wait for it all to end.

The last thing you hear is a gunshot followed by Jesper calling your name.

— — — —

When your eyes open again you're surprised to find yourself back home in your own bed, bright light pouring in through the window. You squint your eyes from the brightness as you look around the room and realise Jesper is asleep in the chair next to you, his head resting on the edge of your bed. You reach out and gently poke him awake. He yawns as he sits up. It takes him a moment to register that you are also awake.

“Y/N! Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve done a full body workout. Ugh, why does everything ache?!”

“How much do you remember?” Jesper asks

“Fighting with a guard. Falling to the floor. He was going to shoot me…”

“He wasn’t quick enough” Jesper winks as he blows the tip of his gun, spins it around his finger and shoves it in his pocket. You smile at him, but then your eye is drawn to something behind him. A cane resting against the wall. Your memories come flooding back and yo sit up suddenly panicked.

“Where Kaz?! Is he okay?!”

“Y/N, you need to calm down. You're still weak”

“Where is he?!”

“He’s…” Jesper starts but is cut off.

“Here” Kaz appears at the door “I’m here”

You jump out of bed quicker than your legs can carry you and stumble into his arms. He grabs you in his gloved hands and Jesper rushes to you, helping Kaz hold you up and lead you back to bed. Once he’s sure your safe he lets go of you, taking a small step back. Jesper sits next to you, arm around your shoulder as you cant stop the tears flooding down your face.

“I thought you were dead” you cry

“I thought YOU were dead” Kaz replies “when I saw Jesper carrying your lifeless body, it took me back to Jor…” he trails off, unable to finish. He takes a steadying breath “I’m glad you're okay”

“Me too.” You say wiping your face “and I'm sorry. I guess you were right, I was too weak to go on that mission. I’m useless.”

Kaz looks at you for a moment before looking to Jesper, silently asking him to leave. Jesper gives your shoulder a quick squeeze before getting up and leaving the room. Kaz fills the empty space next to you on the bed, taking a deep breath before placing his hand on yours.

“You are not useless Y/N. You are brilliant.” He says and you look at him “I was watching you distract those guards and I was so proud. You live with your condition every single day and you never let it hold you back. On my darkest days I look at you and you inspire me to keep going, because if you can do it then so can I.”

You give him a small, genuine smile which he returns as he squeezes your hand affectionately.

“Now you go back to sleep, get your strength back up and I’ll check on you later” he releases your hand and moves to the door.

“Thank you Kaz” you say as you get yourself comfy.

“Don't ever think you are useless Y/N” he says when he stops at the door and turns back to you “that’s an order”

You let out a small laugh as you salute him and he rolls his eyes. But you see the smile creep onto his face before he leaves and you drift back into a peaceful sleep.

#kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker x sister #Kaz Brekker #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #jesper x reader #six of crows fic #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone imagine #freddy carter #freddy carter x reader

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

sunrise

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2,798

summary: He’s not sure what he’s done to earn each morning, but fuck, does he love it.

warnings: There’s a fight between the two but it is in fact angst to sweet good fluffiness <333 also cussing lol

a/n: Thank you so much to @captswilson for commissioning this!!! I had so much fun with it!!!!!!!

There is something majestic about the sun rising. It peeks through the curtains in Bucky’s room, little bit by little bit. It illuminates the desk and then creeps across the floor, towards the edge of the bed.

He’d done his best to organize the room in a way that would ensure you wouldn’t wake up to the sun in your eyes. His precious girl loved sleep and he was going to make sure you got as much of it as you wanted.

The light has only reached the foot of the bed, and he knows he probably has another thirty minutes to an hour before you wake up. Maybe two if he can find the will to leave your embrace and fix the black out curtains that are supposed to prevent this sort of thing.

But you’re so warm and soft against him and he’d just gotten home from a mission the night before and there’s a million other reasons keeping him in bed and all of them start and end with you. He’s also scared to get out of bed for the fear of you waking up while he’s not cuddling you.

There’d been a fight the morning of the mission. One that had resulted in crying and you suggesting that you be gone by the time he got back.

And he hadn’t said a word. He’d just left.

“Jamie?” You mumbled as you felt him get out of the bed, despite how hard he’d tried to not wake you.

The super soldier winced as he turned around to face you, to look at your sweet, sleepy face. “Hey, baby…,” he said soothingly as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You asked, even as your eyes saw his phone in his hand and the message he’d received. “You’re leaving?”

He hated the way that your voice cracked and the little quiver in your lip. “It’s just a quick in and out mission, sweetheart,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll be back in three days tops.”

You were wide awake then, pushing yourself up.

He’s distracted for a moment by the sight of you in one of his t-shirts. Especially considering that he knows there’s nothing on underneath.

But it wasn’t the time for that.

“Three days?” Your voice is sharp and bordering on angry now. Frustration lined the contours of your face as you stared at him, hard. “But what about our trip? We’ve been planning this for months and I finally got the time off of work!”

And fuck, he knew that. He knew that this weekend was special. It was your anniversary, and you two had finally planned a trip away for yourselves on one of Tony’s private islands in the Caribbean.

But with the mission call, those plans had disappeared, as well as the plans for the ring box buried in his side of the closet, in a pair of unworn boots hidden amongst all the other pairs of black combat boots.

Bucky wanted to tell you to just quit your job and work for Tony or even just let him take care of you. You’d never have to work again.

“Baby, I have to go,” he said softly as he tried to reach out to cup your cheek. A crack ran through his heart as you jerked away from his touch. “You know I do… They call and—”

“Yeah,” you said, cutting him off as you stared at him long and hard. “You go. You always go. It’s fine.” But by the tone of your voice, he knows it’s not fine.

He could always read you. Bucky was able to tell how you were feeling just by how you breathed, the way your hands moved. But for the first time ever, he can’t. He has absolutely no clue what you were feeling.

And that scared that absolute shit out of him.

He whispered your name as he tried to reach for you again, but you got off the other side of the bed and stood up, moving towards the closet. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“You’re the one always leaving. Maybe I should, too,” you muttered as you began to pull your clothes from the hangers.

“What?!” He was full blown panicking then. You couldn’t leave. “Baby, baby, no. Don’t leave. Please.” He rushed towards the bed, grabbing the clothes you’d already tossed there and began to hang them back up. “Can’t we talk about this?”

“Talk about what? Talk about how I’m never going to be your priority? How you’re going to keep telling me that you’re gonna retire soon, only for it to never happen?”

Bucky knew he didn’t have a right to get angry at that, even though it was true. He had been telling you for over a year that he’d retire soon and then you two could really settle down. Maybe get a dog or have a baby.

And every time you asked, he’d just say it wasn’t the right time.

But he did get angry. He was human, after all.

“Real fucking mature,” he said with a scoff, shaking his head. “You know, if it wasn’t for my paycheck, and therefore these missions, you wouldn’t even be living in this fancy apartment. You wouldn’t have a suite you live in for free in the fucking Avengers Tower in the center of Manhattan,” he snapped. He was going too far, but he was so frustrated and angry. Because he did want to stay. He did. But he had debts to society that he needed to repay. “Hell, your little office job wouldn’t even pay for an apartment in Jersey City! I give you everything, and you can’t even handle me going away for a few days so we can have everything that we do!”

You took a step back, your eye glassy. “So that’s how you feel,” you breathed out.

Bucky had gone way too far. He’d said things he’d never even thought before, but it had come out because he was hurting and there came that mean streak inside of him that insisted that he hurt you back.

He shook his head, a few rogue tears falling down his cheeks. “No… No, that’s not how I feel,” he said quietly. “Please… Can we please just talk about this? I—” He was cut off as his phone dinged again, and he cursed under his breath as he realized it was Sam texting him that they needed to leave in ten minutes.

A snort.

His eyes met yours right before you looked away, crossing your arms as you moved to the window and stared out at the waking city. “We’ll talk about this when I get back,” he said definitively.

But as he headed for the door, he heard you say, “Sure we will.”

He was in a state of constant anxiety the entire mission, wanting nothing more than to call you and explain but now knowing exactly what to say.

What could he say? He was cruel and mean and horrible, and god, he really wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t there when he got back.

The mission ended up taking seventy-nine hours, and he had worked himself into a tizzy the entire jet ride home.

He stormed down the ramp and into the car that would take them to the city, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for Sam and Wanda to climb in. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving without you!”

“We get it, you’re excited to go home to your girl,” Sam chuckled as he got in, Wanda quickly following.

She was quiet, and he knew it was most likely because his thoughts were too loud to keep to himself. There was no way she didn’t know about the fight you two had.

“Did something happen between you two?” Sam asked, glancing over at him as they started towards the city. “Usually you two are on the phone every chance you get during a mission.”

Bucky’s forehead rested against the cold glass window as he stared at the passing scenery. “Yeah… Something like that…”

When they got home, he went straight to your shared apartment, hoping to every god there was that you were still there. Maybe you’d be at work and you could get that vacation time back and use it next weekend or something.

He just needed his baby.

Bucky’s hand rested on the door handle, his key card in his hand. He was terrified to go in, and he took a few steadying breaths, just like his therapist had taught him.

What was he gonna do if you were gone?

He finally opened the door, his eyes going wide as he saw you putting away some laundry. “You stayed,” he breathed out.

“No. I didn’t,” you said quietly, your voice cracking. “I left. I packed all my stuff up and I left and went to a hotel. But then I… I couldn’t just leave.” Tears welled up in your eyes.

“I don’t care,” he said. “You came back. That’s what matters. And I’m here now and I…” Like the broken man he was, he fell to his knees in front of you and clung to your shirt. “Baby… I need you. I’ll do anything, please… Just don’t leave me…”

He was surprised when you fell to your knees with him, breaking down as you threw your arms around him. “I’m sorry I said that stuff. I love you. I love you. I’m so sorry, Jamie.”

Kisses were pressed all over your wet cheeks as he shook his head. “No, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was cruel and I was lashing out because I was so scared, but I should’ve just talked to you.”

“So you didn’t mean all that stuff?” You whimpered, almost shocked. “About me using you for your money or whatever?”

“No. No. I could never think that stuff.” He cradled your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours fiercely. “I was just upset and lashing out and I… I swear to you, I will never say anything like that ever again. But please don’t leave.”

You curled against his chest, comforted by the heat of his embrace. “I won’t. I’m not leaving, I promise. I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

There’d been a lot of crying last night after you two had made up and talked through everything.

And then a lot of make up sex, but there was usually a lot of sex after he got back from a mission, no matter how long he’d been gone.

A smile creeps t across his lips as he reaches down and lightly brushes his fingers against your inner thighs, feeling the heat from the beard burn he’d left.

Sunlight’s crept a little further up the bed, reaching your tangled legs. Your foot brushes against his calf as you start to stir, your nose smushed against his chest.

Bucky coos softly, caressing your soft cheek to get you to fall back into your slumber. It takes a few minutes, but he does it. Somehow, he manages to untangle your limbs and slip out of the bed undetected. He freezes as you mumble, shifting towards the warmth of the spot he’s just vacated, and he feels kinda bad. He knows how much you love how warm he is.

But he needs to get something.

He takes a moment to fix the curtains so you can sleep a little longer before heading for the closet.

Everything is out of its usual order thanks to your hasty exit and then return. Neither of you had cared much about the proper order of the closet once he had you in his arms.

But that’s beside the point.

It’s not hard to find. He gets on his knees and goes through the line of his shoes, finding the very last pair of black combat boots. They’re shiny and brand new, lacking the wear and tear of his other pairs. Bucky reaches into the right shoe and pulls out a small ring box, his heart hammering.

Is he really gonna do this?

Yeah. Yeah, he is, because he’d been more scared the past three or so days than he had been in his entire life.

He would rather go through everything Hydra had put him through again than ever risk losing you again. All the torture, all the pain, all the wiping. All of it has led him to you and god, it was worth it to wake up to your sweet face.

There weren’t girls like you back in the forties, and he couldn’t imagine going back like Steve had.

But he supposes if Steve felt about Peggy the way he feels about you, then… How could he blame him?

The lid flips open as he sits on the closet floor, the diamonds gleaming in the light.

It had taken a lot of work to get the ring that had belonged to his Ma, which was ridiculous considering it’s his family.

But the Smithsonian apparently doesn’t like giving back items that could be considered stolen property.

It took him threatening to break in and take it by force (as well as a lot of other stuff) for them to hand it over.

He then got it cleaned and resized for you, and it’s been sitting in that shoe for three months now, waiting for the perfect time.

But there is something he has to do first.

Bucky creeps to the bedside table, sneaking a glance at your peaceful face as he grabs his phone and then disappears into the bathroom. It’s there that he types out his message to Pepper and Sam.

Bucky: I’m out of missions permanently. I’ll train new recruits and if there’s a Thanos level threat, I’ll jump in, but otherwise, I’m done. I gotta think about my girl.

He turns off his phone before he gets a reply, setting it back on the table as he climbs into bed, the ring box clutched tightly in his hand. There’s no space for missions when he wants a future with you, with the possibility of a family, maybe a few little ones running around in a few years. He can’t handle seeing the fear in your eyes when he kisses you goodbye anymore, or the disappointment when he slipped off to the quinjet.

And he wants to be there for your future. He doesn’t wanna leave you as a widow or a single mother. He wants to be there with you for every step of life.

His lips press to your forehead as he gently curls around you again. God, he could just stay in bed with you forever.

“Jamie?”

Bucky can’t say he’s shocked when you wake, your eyes slowly blinking open to find him already looking down at you. “Good morning, pretty girl,” he whispers, almost like he’s afraid to break the stillness of the morning.

Even though he’s sure it’s almost noon.

He takes a breath, resting his forehead against yours. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“Well… yeah,” you say quietly as your nimble fingers reach up to run through his shaggy brown hair. Maybe you would give him a haircut soon, sit on the bathroom sink as he stood in front of you.

“If I…” Bucky swallows around the lump in his throat, suddenly overcome with emotion. “If I told you that I texted Sam and told him I’m out of missions forever… If I told you that from now on I’m only gonna help train new recruits…”

“Yes?” You don’t move, blinking up at him with a fond smile on your lips.

And god, he’s so grateful for you and your patience. You know whatever he’s going to say is important and he needs your full attention.

That, and you’re also excited about the possibility of not having to worry about him dying every other week on a mission.

He brings the ring box into view, his mouth drier than the Sahara as he opens it up. “Will you marry me?” He breathes out.

A giggle escapes your lips as you lean forward and kiss him fiercely, your arms thrown around him. “I thought you’d never ask,” you mumble against his lips. Everything that had been said in the heat of the moment those few days ago is forgotten as he slides the ring on your finger and holds you to his chest.

And Bucky can’t help but smile as the sunlight hits your face, illuminating your gorgeous eyes. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this morning with you, waking up next to you in his t-shirt, but he’d spend the rest of his life earning every single sunrise.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

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nicolesangel · 3 years

Text

nothing safe is worth the drive

pairing: wanda maximoff/reader

summary: you and wanda both get hurt on missions, just for completely different reasons. what happens when your anxiety for losing each other finally comes to a peak?

words: 2k

author’s note: very loosely based off of "treacherous" by taylor swift. specifically the lyrics "this hope is treacherous, this daydream is dangerous" and "nothing safe is worth the drive and i will follow you, follow you home". i absolutely did not do a thorough edit of this so please tell me if there is anything wrong! enjoy :-)

click here to read on ao3 or read below!

The compound was quiet today.

You lay in the medbay, an IV line in your arm, your closest friend, Wanda, sitting next to you. She had been next to you all night, waiting for you to wake up, but she’ll never tell you that.

The mission was going so well until the very end. You were supposed to find the weapons and secure them and then get out. There wasn’t supposed to be someone waiting for you at the exit; your path was supposed to be cleared by Natasha. You got out with only a few broken ribs and a concussion, fairly lucky, but when you got back to the jet, you blacked out.

When you finally awoke this morning, Wanda’s eyes were shining with relief. She squeezed your hand before letting go so you could readjust yourself. She handed you a glass of water silently; you gave a small smile back before taking a sip.

“Is everyone else okay?” Your voice was rough as you spoke your first words.

“Yeah,” Wanda sighed. “Actually, there was an emergency call. Everyone else has already headed out. i just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left.”

You panicked momentarily and sat up straighter. “Okay, give me ten and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Y/N, seriously? You aren’t going anywhere. Even if the doctors had okayed you, Tony has you suspended from missions for two weeks until you heal.”

“I just—“ you pause, groaning in pain as you shift your body toward Wanda. You now realize the room is almost completely dark, light just spilling in from the hallway. You sigh, “Fine. But please, Wanda, be extra careful. They can’t afford to lose you too.”

I can’t afford to lose you, you think.

“I promise, Y/N/N. Everything will be okay.” she squeezes your hand one last time before leaving.

You are left alone with with the dark and your racing mind. You can’t lose Wanda. She doesn’t know how much she means to you. Maybe you don’t even realize it yourself until now. You love her.

——

Everything did not end up okay. Despite her promise to you, Wanda ended up in the hospital bed beside yours. But, at least, she was conscious.

Your mind is racing with concern, sadness, anger (and love). You don’t even realize you’re staring at Wanda until she shoots you a glare, a bandage covering a huge gash on her forehead. “Your thoughts are loud. I appreciate your concern, but please, just turn your mind off and let me rest.”

You don’t even get a word in before Wanda is asleep. You lay on your back and stare up at the dim fluorescent lights. Your eyes are burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. You want to sit next to Wanda and be there for her when she wakes up the way she had done for you.

Your body is aching, but you don’t know if it’s from the longing or the broken ribs. But despite your fighting, you also fall asleep.

When you wake up, the room is just as dark as it had been earlier. You have no idea what time it is, but it feels like no time has passed at all. You hear rustling sheets from next to you and notice that Wanda is awake, laying on her side, head propped up by her hand, staring directly at you with a small smile (or grimace, if you looked close enough, from the pain).

“Morning sleepyhead,” she whispers.

You turn yourself to face her, as much as you can without facing excruciating pain, and give her a gentle smile back. But your smile fades as quick as it came. “Wanda…”

Her expression immediately shifts to worry, her brows furrowing as she looks you up and down. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“No,” you sigh, trying not to let your anxiety overwhelm you. You begin frantically whispering, “I was so scared Wanda. You told me you would be extra careful and yet, here you are in the same condition as me.”

“Y/N…”

“I could have lost you for good…” you mutter under your breath.

“Why would you think that? You know I can handle myself and it would never go that far.”

“I—“ you pause to swallow down a sob as tears begin finally slipping from your eyes. You almost let those three words escape your lips, but you couldn’t do that. Not now. Not when Wanda, and you, were injured and emotional and clearly frustrated with each other. “I just want you to be safe. That’s all.”

“No,” she growls, and you flinch. “It’s something more than that. I know you care, but please give up the act Y/N. What is this really about?”

You end up back how you started this conversation; eyes up at the ceiling, lying on your back. “It can wait, Wanda. Neither of us are in the condition to be fighting or crying or — whatever.”

“Fine,” she whispers, mirroring your position. “Just know, I feel the same way.”

——

When you wake up the next morning, you are discharged from the medbay and were ordered another week in bed to heal the concussion. You wanted to ask Wanda what she meant — what did she feel the same way about? — but she was still passed out when the nurse came to wheel you back to your room. It would have to wait.

The next week went by excruciatingly slow. The only human interaction you had was with the nurses that brought you food and medicine. And Natasha that one day.

She brought you dinner on your fourth day. You asked her to stay for a bit; you needed company after being (and feeling) alone for a while. She complied, sitting down beside you on the bed, stealing a bite of your food, gaining a glare from you.

“Nat,” you said quietly, testing out your voice after hours of silence, “what was the emergency that day? No one has told me…”

“We must have missed some of the weapons because we caught trucks moving grenades and dynamite from the same unit. But everything went as planned.”

You looked up at her with confusion. “But, if everything went well, then how did…”

Natasha rolled her eyes, a smirk crossing her lips. “She got that cut fighting for you.”

What does that mean? you thought. Confusion swept your mind. “Nat, what—“

“She found the guy who hurt you. Cursed him out. He punched her. Hard. She threw him around a bit before sending him our way.”

“Why would she do that? I told her to be careful.” You couldn’t believe what you heard. You couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or pissed.

“You know her. You should have known she wasn’t going to listen. She cares too much to let something like that go.” Natasha patted your hand before she walked toward the door.

Just as she reached the door, she paused and looked back at you. Tears are beginning to form again in your eyes. “You should tell her, you know.”

“What?” You locked eyes with Natasha.

“That you love her.”

Natasha was gone before you could respond. How did she know? Was it that obvious? you thought, your mind scrambling for a coherent thought. And did Natasha know something you didn’t? She did say that Wanda cared about you “too much”, but what does that—

Is that what Wanda was talking about when she said she felt the same way? Did she already know? There’s no way. How could she possibly know you love her when you only just realized it yourself?

It is now your first day off of bedrest and you take time to reacclimate yourself to the compound alone. You’re given smiles and nods and “I’m glad you’re okay!”s as you walk around. You weren’t expecting company when you returned to your room.

Wanda was wrapped up in a blanket on your bed, a book in her hands. As soon as she heard your footsteps entering the room, she put the book down and looked up at you with a shy, apologetic smile. “Hey,” she breathed out. “Can we talk?”

“I mean it doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, does it?” You slide into your bed beside Wanda. She offers you some of her blanket and you take it, ending up shoulder to shoulder with her.

Wanda looks over at you, empathy emitting from her emerald eyes. “I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day. I just— I hate to see you hurting and my emotions got the best of me and—“

“Natasha told me how you got hurt.”

Wanda sighs. “Of course she did.”

“Listen, Wand, you didn’t have to do that. I was fine! Really, you didn’t have to—“

“Yes I did!” You’re cut off abruptly by Wanda’s exasperation. Her eyes are sparkling with tears as she takes your hand in her own. “I did have to. Because I couldn’t handle seeing you so hurt and him getting away with hardly a scrape. I care too much about you.”

“But why did you put yourself in so much danger when I specifically asked you to be careful?” Your voice is elevated and now tears are slipping down both of your faces.

“Because I love you!”

The room fills with silence as you stare at each other, your mouth slightly agape as you squeeze Wanda’s hand.

You whisper, “you love me?”

Wanda gives you a sad smile. “I love you. So much it hurts. And it’s so scary how much I love you because what happens if I lose you? Even if you don’t love me in the way I love you, I am so scared that one day you’ll get hurt and I’ll lose you. I just—“

You cup Wanda’s cheek with your free hand. “I do love you in the way you love me. I really, really do.”

You lock eyes with each other before Wanda begins slowly leaning in. Her eyes flicker down at your lips before you close your own and connect your lips with hers. You’ve never been so happy or scared, but your heart is buzzing.

You separate before taking both of her hands in your own and placing them in your lap. You stare down at your intertwined fingers before speaking.

“I love you, but I’m so scared too. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you either.” You look up at Wanda before giving a timid smile. “But I want to do this with you. You’re my home. No matter how dangerous or scary it may be, I want to love you.”

“I have hope, you know.” Wanda takes one of her hands to push a piece of your hair behind your ear and lets it linger. “I know we are constantly putting ourselves in danger. It’s literally our job. But loving you is worth the risk. It’s worth the pain we will experience and the anxiety and anger because in the end of it all, it will always lead back to you. No matter what. You’re my home too.”

You lean in and kiss her again before wrapping yourself around her. She wraps her arms around your waist, holding on as if she would never let go.

“Are we really going to do this?” you whisper.

“There’s no way we aren’t doing this. Loving you is worth the risk of losing you.”

You separate enough to see Wanda’s face, her arms still around your waist, yours still resting around her shoulders, your foreheads resting against each other.

“God, I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you just the same.”

#i am still absolutely in love with wanda and i will forever be in love #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wandavision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda mcu #wanda x reader #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

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earthlostgirl · 3 years

Text

Here is another Faye and Spike fanfic. Who else?

DOG DAYS

She was making a hell of a noise, but it's not like she could help it. Her movements were slow and uncoordinated. She crashed into a pile of junk that fell to the ground, she closed her eyes, even under her feet the sound seemed far away.

When she turned around Spike was pointing his Jerico at her. She gave a little gasp, startled, and clutched the first aid kit to her chest. Damn silent idiot. Damn blind idiot who didn't seem to recognize her, suddenly his expression changed completely, as if he was seeing a ghost.

"Will you stop aiming at me? Or are you planning to finish me off like a dying horse?" her voice sounded exhausted. She was. She was also drunk, or at least there were traces of alcohol in her system.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked annoyed and scanning her as he lowered the gun.

"I had a happy argument with an idiot about the right to speak out " she replied with sarcasm. "f you'll excuse me, I'm very tired and want go to sleep."

She made a couple of steps, clumsy and slow, but her legs didn't feel like cooperating on her way to the room. She was going to fall to the ground and was doubtful that she could extend her arms to stop the impact. She closed her eyes, ready to take the hit of her life, and maybe lose a tooth, all for show.

Luckily Spike's chest broke her fall.

"Oooh," Faye said as she sensed the smell of tobacco and something she couldn't identify, invading her every sense. " That was fast."

" Were you planning on kissing the floor?" Spike asked helping her to stand up.

"I doubt I can extend my arms," she whispered against the yellow fabric of the shirt, inhaling his scent again. "You smell so good..."

"Can you walk?" the sound of Spike's heartbeat against her ear seemed to lull her to sleep.

"I guess, " she pulled away from him.

Each wince was worse than the last. Spike, who hadn't left her side, slipped his arm around her waist and almost carried her into the bedroom.

She sat on the bed with the first aid kit still under her arm and placed it on her lap.

"Are you going to stare at me like that all the time?" Faye asked trying to open the damn box, she wasn't able to, the pain was excruciating, she'd have to add a broken wrist to the list.

Spike seemed to notice, because he snatched it out of her hands.

"You're a fucking mess ," Spike mumbled angrily.

"Don't yell at me."

"I didn't."

"Your voice sounds so loud then...," Faye just wanted him to leave her alone, lick her wounds and sleep until the end of the world came.

"Don't move," he commanded.

"Where do you think I'm going - on a bender?" she grumbled wryly.

"Shut up, Faye."

Spike disappeared from her sight without another word, but she stood very still, staring at the door, which seemed to ripple.

"First you should wipe off all the blood on your face, " she didn't realize Spike had returned until she heard his voice.

Faye reached out her hand tentatively so Spike could pass her the soaked towel he had brought with him. But he came over to her and squatting down, Spike gently began to run it over her forehead, her cheeks, meticulously wiping the already dried blood from her face. She was incapable of saying anything, except to stare at him in disbelief, his mannerisms were delicate and kind, definitions that in her life she would have dared to put next to Spike. Every time she complained, Spike clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Thank you," she whispered as he set the towel aside.

Spike looked at her seriously, as he examined her face closely.

" Now what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?"

"I didn't do anything!" she protested angrily.

"I see," he mumbled in exasperation looking her up and down again

"Your jacket is soaked with blood, take it off."

"No," she protested. "It's okay."

"Don't be a baby," he retorted. "Take off your jacket."

She gave him an indignant look, but the way he was staring at her made her nervous. So she decided to listen to him. She put her hand to her zipper, but her arms hurt and she gave up the attempt.

"It hurts," she said rubbing her wrist.

"Fuck Faye," he replied throwing his hand to her zipper.

Anyway, she had been trying to avoid that moment. Spike's eyes widened as he saw her t-shirt torn to shreds.

"Faye..." Spike was looking at her with an intense stare and his hands trembled as he pulled away from her.

"Don't look at me like that, " Faye snapped upset, covering herself with one arm. "It's embarrassing enough that you have to help me."

"Are you okay?" he looked genuinely concerned and made her shiver.

"Yeah...," he sighed. "Nothing happened."

"Sure?"

"Yeah," her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't want to cry in front of him, she took a deep breath trying to pull herself together and shook her shoulders. "Nothing happened, it was just a horrible night."

" All right... Where's all this blood coming from? Where did you get hurt?" he pulled the jacket away from her shoulders looking for open wounds.

"The blood isn't mine," Faye muttered through her teeth.

Spike looked at her again in that indecipherable way while helping her take off her jacket.

"Do you want to put something else on?" he asked looking in horror at the bruises on her arms.

"Yes, please," she was half naked, covered in blood and terribly tired, she couldn't imagine any worse situation. "Can you bring me another shirt? In the drawers there's got to be some."

Spike stood up, moving over to the closet as she pulled off the tatters of her shirt and finished cleaning herself.

"I cut his throat," Faye finally said looking at the blood stained towel, everything around her seemed blurry, the only vision she was able to focus on was that damn towel. . " He...I couldn't get him off me, he was so much stronger than me..... I had never seen so much blood..."

"He deserved it," he replied earnestly, passing her the shirt.

"Yes..."

Faye felt like crying again when she found herself unable to dress herself. Her ribs ached, everything ached.

"Leave it to me," before she could protest Spike was already pulling the T-shirt over her head and helping to put it on. "I have to examine your wrist."

"I know..."

Spike held her arm gently and sighed in frustration. She tried her best not to complain but the truth was that it hurt like hell. Spike bit his lips angrily as he patted along the length of her arm. The bruises looked really shocking in contrast to the pallor of her skin.

"It's not broken," he said as he rifled through the bandages in the kit until he found a new bundle. After placing a piece of metal to keep it straight, he bandaged it tight. "You should hold it up."

She tried to smile as he began to put away the rest of the bandages in the first aid kit. Spike didn't look at her, he was focused on tidying each and every item inside.

"I've got a anti-bruise cream, it's pretty good..." Spike said with his eyes fixed on the box.

He stood up again and left her alone in the room. She flopped down on the bed exhausted, letting sleep overcome her for good.

When Faye opened her eyes again, she was inside the sheets, but she didn't remember taking off her shoes or getting into them. Bringing the hands to her face, she discovered a pair of band-aids over her eyebrow and cheek. The pot of cream was on her bedside table. Faye sat up and spread the cream as best she could over her arm. She got out of bed, she was thirsty and the pain was worse than before she went to sleep.

She went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. There was a dim light in the living room, Spike was watching TV in the dark. He turned to look at her. He was inscrutable, she couldn't decipher what he was thinking. She smiled tiredly at him, but he didn't move a muscle in his face.

"Did I wake you up?" Spike asked turning down the volume on the TV.

"No, I was thirsty," she replied raising the glass full of water.

She didn't feel like being alone, but she didn't know whether to stay or not.

"How are you?" he asked, offering a hand towards her.

Her heart skipped a beat and she froze. He blinked as if waking from a dream and withdrew his hand.

Faye sat down next to him and picked up the pack of cigarettes from the table, it was hard to maneuver with only one hand. She bit into the cigarette and before she tried to reach for the lighter the flame appeared before her eyes. She smiled frankly and Spike smiled back.

"What are you watching?" she asked full of curiosity.

"Boxing."

"Oh," she settled back on the couch as best she could. Spike watched her out of the corner of his eye. She heard him sigh and look back at the screen.

The boxing match broke for the news. They had found the body, Faye felt the air around her thicken, her attacker was a notorious criminal. She could barely hear the broadcaster over the pounding of her heart. He had been put in jail for torturing, raping and murdering six women. He'd escaped a few days ago. Spike reached for the TV remote.

"No," her hand was shaking but she still wouldn't let him change the channel.

Faye didn't realize she was crying until she felt the tears on her lips.

"You don't have to watch this crap," Spike said turning off the TV.

Not sure if she had heard him correctly, Faye was only aware of her heart beating. She tried to fill her lungs with air, but failed.

"Faye?"

She couldn't breathe, she put her hands to her chest and dug her nails in, as if she could tear her skin off to make way for oxygen.

"Breathe," Spike held her by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "It's all over."

She couldn't speak, couldn't stop crying. She hugged Spike who ran his hands through her hair and placed them on her back. She was choking, she tried to catch her breath again, but all she managed was an agonized whimper. Spike pulled away from her. His confused and panicked expression made her even more frightened.

"Please, Faye, breathe," he cupped her face with both hands. "Don't fuck with me, do it very carefully, slowly."

Spike took a slow breath, not taking his eyes off her. She focused on the small change in hue between his eyes as he tried to mimic Spike's slow, methodical breaths. Tears were still slipping down her face, but she felt herself regaining control. Spike wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled, resting his forehead against hers.

" That' s right," his voice sounded calm. "That's it, a little at a time."

Faye rested her head on Spike's shoulder and closed her eyes, while he kept stroking her hair. Her heartbeat didn't seem to calm down, yet she was able to breathe. She felt Spike wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer. Spike radiated a cozy, pleasant warmth, that comforted her. Faye was grateful for his silence and the way he ran his fingers through her hair. She was grateful he let her cry and that he was there. She let out a barely inaudible "thank you" against his chest. She heard him swallow and laugh nervously. He squeezed her in his arms before releasing her.

"Will you be able to breathe on your own or are you tricking me into giving you mouth-to-mouth?" Spike joked as he gave her one of his unmistakable smiles.

"Ha! You wish you could put your lips on mine," she replied looking sideways at him and plopping down on the back of the couch.

"I quit boxing?" he asked casually turning the TV back on.

"Not a chance, there's a show about cosmetic operations gone wrong on channel 93, put it on."

"I'm not putting that crap on."

"Give me the remote, Spiegel."

"Over my dead body, Romani."

#cowboy bepop #spike x faye #faye valentine #spike spiegel #fanfiction #cowboy bebop fanfiction

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

just kidding, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: There was a time where you would be out partying, getting drunk and fucking up a storm. But you’re different now. You stopped drinking. Now you’re the one waiting for Kim Taehyung to call so you can pick him up from his drunken adventures. There’s just one small hitch – Taehyung’s roommate, Jeon Jungkook, offering you a mojito.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (a little) alcohol consumption; slight crack at the start lol; smut (fem reader, thigh riding, handjob, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; Jungkook is a tempter and he knows it; noona!reader and you’re a nympho, whoops

“I don’t drink.”

“Oh.”

Jeon Jungkook blinked at you, holding out the mojito.

“But… I made it.”

“That’s true. But I don’t drink.”

He pursed his lips and frowned.

“You sure?” he asked, putting on his best puppy eyes.

“Yup.”

“I promise it’s not poisoned.”

You laughed, jangling your car keys. “I have to drive later. But also, I do not drink.”

He nodded and took a sip of it. “It’s really smooth.”

You smiled and went back to your phone. Kim Taehyung was supposed to text you in a bit so you could pick him up from a party. In exchange, he let you borrow his computer to play League of Legends since he had a better PC and internet than your apartment. There was an event going on, so you had to grind games. You were getting tired though and you didn’t want to be in the middle of a game when Taehyung called half-drunk.

Now you were sitting on the couch, as Taehyung’s roommate Jeon Jungkook stood there and took sips from his mojito. Just standing there, thinking. He did that a lot, drifting off into space randomly. You figured it was some sort of weird habit. He was wearing a striped black-and-white turtleneck and black leather pants. His cheek-length black hair was pinned back on the right side, revealing his undercut. It seemed like he was going out, but he had spent all night in his room before going to the kitchen and then appearing with said mojito. Why? Honestly, you had no idea.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked, looking up at him from the sofa.

Jungkook snapped out of it and stared at you. “What?”

You pointed to his outfit. “You’re dressed all fancy.”

Jungkook looked down. “Oh. Uh, not really. I was going to go with Taehyung tonight but I had an assignment to finish that I forgot about. I never changed.”

You nodded. Hm.

Okay.

“How do you know Taehyung-ssi, anyway, noona?”

“I sucked his dick once.”

Jungkook nearly dropped his glass.

You calmly scrolled through Instagram. You flickered your eyes up to see Jungkook’s shocked face and his red ears.

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled, seeing Jungkook blink rapidly to collect himself. “I used to be the Biology lab TA. He’d ask for help a lot. And he plays League, so we ended up hanging out. Also, I have a car.”

“R-right…” Jungkook crab-walked to the armchair next to the sofa and sat down, placing his drink on the table. “Right, yeah.”

You two sat in silence, rather comfortable for you, rather awkward for Jungkook. You didn’t come here that often, but it was always only to borrow Taehyung’s internet or to pick him up from random outings. It was never a big deal to you, as Taehyung was always nice and bought you food later as thanks. As for Jeon Jungkook, he was just kind of there. Introverted, quiet, sometimes piped up to inquire about something when he was curious. You weren’t exactly talkative, but he didn’t bother you either, so it was never too memorable.

“What’s on your shirt?” Jungkook asked, tilted his head.

You lifted your phone to give him a better look at the nine-pointed star and bleeding goat head of your long-sleeved black shirt. “It’s an American metal band.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “You listen to metal?”

You put your phone back down. “Yup.”

You suddenly remembered your legs were wide open because you were wearing your black velvet pants and they were hot as fuck. Wearing these was a mistake. You closed your legs and settled them on the couch. They had been expensive though, so you felt like you had to wear them to get your money’s worth. Damnnit. Why did you buy these again?

“Why don’t you drink alcohol?”

You closed Instagram and opened Twitter. “Because I become sexually uninhibited.”

Silence.

You looked up to see Jungkook trying to process what you said, imaginary question marks popping on top of his head.

“It means I fuck anything with legs, Jungkook.”

His brown doe eyes went wide. “W-what?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, you know, one time one of my friends caught me in a room with my clothes off blowing three guys at once, so I figured, hmm, maybe I shouldn’t drink anymore. That ever happen to you?” you added nonchalantly.

Jungkook shook his head so quickly his long black hair floated in the air.

“Huh. Well, me neither,” you chuckled. “I was just kidding.”

Jungkook looked like a mother who was trying to process all of their child’s sex escapades. “That’s good then. Whew,” he remarked with an awkward laugh. He took another long, hasty sip of his mojito.

“It was four guys.”

Jungkook nearly choked. He snapped his head up to see your shoulders shaking as you tried to contain your snickering, hiding behind your phone. He glared at you, clearing his throat sharply.

“You shouldn’t lie, noona,” he muttered, frowning.

You lowered your phone and straightened. “I was laughing at your expression. I wasn’t lying.”

He narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. “About what part?” he said warily.

“I do not drink because I will literally try to fuck anyone in my immediate vicinity when I’m drunk,” you stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “You can imagine it’s not very good for my sexual health or my social life as I stumble out of a party covered in cum of four guys I don’t know.”

Jungkook was in the middle of drinking his mojito and swallowed so hard the entire drink disappeared into his throat.

“What?” he wheezed out, slamming his chest with his fist.

You put your hands up. “It happens.”

Jungkook looked as if he as going to pass out, either from the image or from drinking too fast. You picked up your phone again and set Taehyung a text.

Are you dead? I think I killed your roommate.

Jungkook shook his head vigorously. “You must be joking.”

“Nope, that actually happened. Ask Taehyung.”

Jungkook looked taken aback. “What?” he said again in the same panicked tone.

“I told you someone found me.”

You swore that if this was the Wild West, a tumbleweed would have drifted by. Jungkook looked as white as a sheet. You calmly plucked the glass from his hand since it seemed like he was rapidly losing focus of his surroundings.

“How… That’s so dangerous!” Jungkook sputtered, seemingly coming back to life.

“Indeed, which is why I am sitting here right now and not piss drunk in a random bedroom in someone’s house,” you replied calmly, waiting for Taehyung to text you back. “See, this is why you don’t offer me a drink because then I would try to fuck you. You’ve been spared.”

Jungkook gave you a very strange expression and suddenly crossed one leg over the other. You rubbed your eyes. Hopefully Taehyung didn’t stay out too late. You were getting sleepy.

“Well, you still have to be attracted to them, r-right?” Jungkook commented, looking away and biting his knuckle.

You didn’t look up from your phone.

“I suppose. I don’t really have a type, and when you’re drunk you only look at the parts you’re attracted to anyway and forget about anything else,” you responded, chuckling at a cute cat picture. “At least you’re attractive, so if I met you at a party drunk, I’d fuck you, easy.” Owls could sit cross-legged? What? You squinted at the meme, trying to see if it was Photoshopped.

Silence. Absolute fucking silence.

You decided that it seemed unlikely the photo of this sitting owl was Photoshopped and lifted your head to see Jungkook staring at you like you had three heads.

“What?”

“You’re…” Jungkook chuckled awkwardly. “Just kidding, right?”

You blinked. “What? About you being attractive?” You pointed to him. “No. I’m not. You’re handsome, Jungkook.”

You saw his ears turning red once again. “Ahaha… but you wouldn’t fuck me, right?”

“I would.”

A crow cawed loudly outside the window.

Jungkook wasn’t blinking. Was he dead? Was Taehyung going to come home to a statue of a roommate? You tilted your head and waved your hand in front of his face. Jungkook didn’t move. Maybe he went into shock.

“Jungkook? You alive in there?” you asked, waving your hand some more.

He blinked rapidly, startling you. “I… I…”

Okay, now he was scaring you. Was he broken? Did Taehyung have an A.I. for a roommate and not tell you? Taehyung, please come home and oil your Jungkook, you thought dryly as you watched him scrunch up his nose, as if he was trying to stretch his face muscles out.

“You surprised me,” Jungkook sputtered, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “I just… there’s no way…”

“That I would fuck you?” you replied, completely chill. He turned even redder. You placed a hand on your cheek and rested your elbow on the couch. “Why not? You’re cute, have nice fashion sense, seem like a decent guy.”

Yeah, Jungkook was definitely breaking down because he did not seem to know how to form proper sentences anymore. He was like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly.

“But, I couldn’t though.” You cut off his attempts to fathom a thought. He stiffened, his doe eyes shifting to you. “Because you’re Taehyung’s friend, not a stranger. I try not to mess up my friendships, you know?”

He swallowed thickly. “R-right.”

You removed your hand from your cheek and cracked your neck, leaning back against the plushy couch arm. Sheesh, where was Taehyung? You could have played an entire ARAM in the time he was messing about. He told you around this time, but perhaps he had run late. Oh well.

“But… if he doesn’t know…”

Hold up.

You lifted your head, slowly, slowly to Jungkook’s nervous stare and shifty eyes.

“I mean, if Taehyung doesn’t know… doesn’t count, right?” he asked innocently.

His dark hair obscured part of his angular face, pink lips slightly parted. His eyes were watching your every move like a hawk, brows furrowed slightly. The living room light reflected off his glowing tan skin and the glossiness of his lips.

If you don’t stop looking like that, you thought. There’s going to be consequences.

“Let’s not tread dangerous waters here,” you said quietly.

One of his dark eyebrows quirked upwards ever-so-slightly. “How is it dangerous? Taehyung’s going to call you when he needs to be picked up. He’s going to see the inside of your car before he even sees the inside of this apartment.”

Uh oh. Now your heart was beating fast. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Alcohol made you sexually uninhibited because you really, really enjoyed having sex. Far too much. But you couldn’t go through life fucking everything with legs (or without them – to be honest, it wasn’t that strict of a requirement) because, hello, societal standards? Social appropriateness of maybe not fucking the cashier at your favorite coffee spot or your friend’s roommate in his apartment? You know, you had to be a productive human being and not a damn nympho. Wasn’t like you were getting paid for it.

Jungkook lifted his leg from his knee and spread them, tilting his chin upward.

Oh ho?

Well, now you knew why Jungkook crossed his legs, because a very obvious bulge was struggling in his leather pants. Where was embarrassed Jungkook? Shocked Jungkook? The Jungkook that was stunned at your crude words and straightforward manner?

Give him back. This is too much.

Perhaps you had been a little too frank for once – ah, who are you kidding, you’d probably been in this situation before.

Jungkook’s right hand slid up his thigh, long fingers with tiny, delicate tattoos, tracing the contours of his muscular quads. You tilted your head as he danced his fingers along his inner thigh before spreading them over his bulge and cupping it, stroking slowly through the thick fabric as he licked his lips.

“I am not drunk enough for this,” you muttered.

“Are you scared?” Jungkook asked softly, still palming himself through his pants. “Scared Taehyungie will be mad at you?” You felt a muscle in your face twitch. It seemed that he knew he was getting the better of you, because his voice was dropping low, sultry. You did not like being challenged, because well… you always tried to rise to the challenge. To your detriment, sometimes.

“Is Taehyung the boss of you?”

Fuck.

You snapped your head at him, narrowing your eyes.

“No one is the boss of me,” you replied icily.

Jungkook softened his features, laying his head back in the armchair. His hair curled around his cheek as his breathing deepened. His teeth caught his lower lip and gradually released it, the pink flesh popping back into place. The tiny mole under his lip trembled.

“Then do whatever you want, noona.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits, nails digging into your palms.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Jungkook’s voice was a smokey wisp, soaking into you.

“Just imagining you on your knees, naked, covered in cum…” He groaned, rocking his hips into his hand. “Sounds so fucking hot.”

Well. It had been. It was fucking hot, it made you wet just thinking about that night. It had felt amazing as the cum dripped down your skin, covering you, making you filthy with your sinful lust, so delicious and raw and dirty that right now you sat up, spreading your legs again because the space between your thighs was too fucking hot, too fucking much. Stupid velvet pants.

You got up from the couch, eyes still on Jungkook, his pupils dilating, tongue tracing the outskirts of his lips. He leaned his head back a little and moaned your name, long and lustful, eyelids fluttering. His dark hair brushed against his brows.

“Stop,” you breathed, reaching down to push your shirt up. Your fingers hovered over the button of your pants. Too hot. Too fucking hot. “You’re doing this on purpose. You’re tempting me.”

The side of his lips curved upward into a lazy smirk.

“I am.”

You placed your phone on the coffee table. The sound was on. Taehyung still hadn’t texted you. You would hear it vibrate against the wood. You took another step, unbuttoning your pants. Fuck. Why was Jungkook so sexy? You could resist if he wasn’t so damn hot.

“Don’t want you to think…” You swallowed; throat tight. “Don’t want you to think I’m treating you like a sex object.” The zipper of your pants slid down. “Because you seem like a nice guy.”

He smiled, undoing his pants too, sighing as the zipper freed his bulge.

“If I was your sex object…” Jungkook purred, pushing his tight leather pants down, down. “Even for only a little bit, I wouldn’t hold it against you, noona.”

Now your velvet pants were being peeled off your hips, leaving you in your seamless black panties. Oh, fuck, his thighs. Muscular and powerful, skin so pretty you wanted to touch. His eyes slid down your body.

“Holy shit, your thighs.”

Seemed like you both had the same idea. You climbed onto Jungkook’s lap, straddling one of his thighs. Now he was close to you, smelling like fresh linen, presence so warm and powerful you were being drugged by it. Your hands slid onto his shoulders, gripping them finger by finger, breathing hard as he tensed them. Slowly, you sat down on his left thigh, gasping as your soaked, clothed heat touched him. He grinned, flexing it under you. His own hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it, watching his fingers sink into your softness.

“Now, this,” Jungkook breathed, staring into your eyes. “This is a sexy body.”

Your heart was beating so fast, so fast. He watched you closely, eyes so dark that you felt like you were drowning in them. You rolled your hips into his thigh, hissing as you became wetter. He flexed the muscle under you, hard and unforgiving, sitting back and letting you rub yourself against it. You smeared your juices into his skin, stimulating your clit, inhaling sharply. Jungkook was still clutching your thigh, his large hand pressed into you.

“Is that enough for you?” he drawled, his other hand sliding up to land on your other thigh. “Is that all you want from me?”

Your eyes flickered to his playful, daring brown orbs.

“There’s no time…” you muttered.

“Take off your panties,” he nudged.

He placed his hands on your waist and lifted you up. You bit your lip, uncertain.

“Noona, I want you to feel good.”

He slipped one finger on the side of your black panties and pushed down. You took the other side and pushed them down, raising your legs to pull out one and then the other. Your panties fluttered to the ground. Jungkook’s gaze on you as you lowered again, bare and dripping, onto his thick thigh. Oh, holy hell. He tensed it and pressed your hips down, grinding his thigh onto your slopping wet pussy. You moaned, grasping his forearms through his turtleneck, feeling the strength in them, the hardness. You closed your eyes, humping his thigh, lost in bliss.

“Can you cum like that?” You felt Jungkook lean forward, lips brushing against yours. “Cum you cum just by rubbing yourself on me?”

Tiny, rigid nods. “If you... kiss me.”

He groaned as he felt your opening tense on his skin. “I thought you would never ask.”

And then his lips were on yours, soft, delicate. Sweet, erotic kisses contrasting with how hard you were fucking his leg, his tongue dancing in the periphery of yours, dodging you playfully as you whined, clutching him tighter. He pressed you down harder, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You shuddered, wetness pooling at his kisses, your core tightening as he whispered your name into your lips.

“Your body is so fucking delectable,” his murmured. “So sexy, it’s sinful.”

You clenched your jaw as you basically rammed your hips into his thigh, slippery and hard, your clit throbbing with need.

“Cum for me, noona.” You could feel his lips form the words as he kissed you, awe in his voice. “Cum on my thigh.”

You dug your nails into his clothed arms and shut your eyes, moaning his name, feeling the strings inside you snap, pleasure waterfalling into you as you came, squelching onto his skin, so viscous and thick that it added to the lubrication, your swollen clit throbbing. Your eyelids fluttered as his hands pressed you down, grinding your hips into his muscle so you could ride your high, extend it until you were melting, hands falling from his arms. He cradled you gently, your chest heaving with effort.

“J-Jungkook…”

“Mhm?”

You cracked your eyes open. “Has my phone made any noise?”

He shook his head. His dark hair covered part of his left eye. “No, noona.”

“Ah.”

Maybe Taehyung was getting laid. Good for him.

“I’m going to touch you now,” you stated. To the point.

Jungkook grinned.

You reached down to his black boxer briefs and yanked them down, freeing his cock and balls. He lifted his legs a little and you pushed them down, but he took your hand, placing it on his semi-hard cock. He moaned as your fingers wrapped around him.

“Do you want to take it off?” you asked quietly, referring to his underwear.

“No,” Jungkook replied tightly, cupping his hand around yours, using your hand to stroke himself a few times. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You nudged his hand aside and began your pace. He leaned back, gasping softly. Your grip wasn’t what it used to be. Carpal tunnel was a bitch. Still, you furrowed your brow, concentrating, He swelled in your hand, pre-cum leaking at the red tip dripping onto your fingers. You stopped for a moment to coat your palm with it, bringing it to your mouth and licking your hand, moaning at his taste. Jungkook shivered, watching your saliva spread all over before returning to his cock, adding to the lubrication.

He pressed his head into the back of the armchair, hips rising as you started again, jaw tense.

“I’m not as good as before,” you gritted out. “My wrist–”

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook interjected. “Fuck, your hand is perfect.”

He was rock hard in your hand as you jacked him off. You snuck a glance at him. His hands were on his face, combing through his dark hair, eyes closing, mouth open as he moaned, rutting into your palm.

He was just so, so sensual that it was driving you insane, his noises making you wet. There was something feral about it, the way he looked at you through his lashes.

“Can I finger you?” he pleaded. “Please.”

Your hips were raised to get a good angle, your arousal already dripping down your thigh.

“Of course. Touch me, Jungkook.”

He lowered his hands, hair all over his face, staring at you through the veil. His fingers slid up your thigh, slipping in between. Dipping in, moaning as he touched your wetness. You sucked in a breath, feeling his fingertip graze your swollen clit. Your grip tightened.

“Jungkook.” Your eyes found his, glazed with lust. “You can be rougher with me. If you want.”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Don’t want to hurt you…”

You smirked.

“You forget who you’re talking to.”

He pushed two fingers into you, feeling you suck him in as you stroked him, smile still on your lips. Jungkook grinned, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbed it as he began to thrust his fingers into you, matching your pace, the two of you focused on getting each other off, breath mixing between your bodies.

“Noona?”

“Yeah?” you panted, whimpering at his roughness, his fingers scissoring in you, stretching your walls as you squeezed back, faster and faster.

“Wanna cum in your mouth.”

You chuckled as he shoved a third finger into you, punishing your clit repeatedly, so full, so good, it was making you crazy, but you had to focus, you had to get him off.

“This is a weird angle.”

Jungkook suddenly pulled his fingers out and pinched your clit, making you hiss and your legs shake, pained whimpers clawing from your throat.

“Do it.” His voice was a low growl. “Do it and I’ll reward you.”

You slid off the chair, still stroking his cock, narrowing your eyes at him. Jungkook looked down at you, smirk on his pretty pink lips, whispering your name. You removed your hand and replaced it with your mouth. Fuck. He sighed, hand coming up to tangle in your hair, not quite pressing you down but holding you there, his taste coating your tongue, his hard length throbbing in your mouth. You moaned onto his cock and his hips trembled, his long bangs covering his left eye.

Ugh, the way he looked at you. Your felt your pussy clench, demanding his cock.

Instead, you began to move your head up and down, soft lips around him, mouth tight around the head and length. His hand stayed there, moving with you, firm, reminding you that you couldn’t stop, that you had to keep going until he came. You set a nice, fast, tight pace, already knowing he was close, hearing his breathy groans, repeating your name over and over.

“Always thought you were fuckable,” Jungkook panted out. “Always wanted you in my bed.” He pressed his head into the armchair, shutting his eyes. “Couldn’t figure out how to convince you, couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I wanted you so very much.”

You tightened your throat around him and he dug his nails into your scalp, breathing shallow and tight.

“Gonna cum, noona, fuck, gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, his orgasm filling your mouth, coating your tongue, slipping down your throat. You gulped and he yelped at the sensitivity, whimpering as you softly lapped at the head, cleaning him off. Drinking it all, intoxicated with it, so satisfied swallowing it all.

Oh, how you loved sex.

You slowly removed your mouth crawling back up, no longer aware of your obligations to Taehyung, only interested in brushing Jungkook’s hair aside and kissing him deep, moaning as his tongue forced into your mouth, tasting himself. His hand slipped back into your folds and three fingers deep into you, fucking you. You whined into his mouth, telling him how good he was, telling him how good he felt inside you, telling him you how much you wanted his cock, his beautiful, thick cock jammed all the way inside you.

The door lock clicked and neither of you heard anything.

“Ah, I managed to hitch a ride with Jim– WHAT THE FUCK?”

Taehyung’s deep voice boomed throughout the apartment and you were still making out with Jungkook’s face as his fingers thrust into your slopping wet pussy, spreading you out. You whimpered as Jungkook broke the kiss, pushing you against his body as Taehyung slammed the door and marched in, kicking off his shoes carelessly.

“Fucking shit, why are you like this, fucking everything in your sight, you absolute–”

You turned your head, somewhat ashamed, feeling somewhat sorry – but not that sorry, because Jungkook’s fingers were still inside you. Taehyung’s strong features were twisted in annoyance, but he wasn’t looking at you.

He was scowling at Jungkook.

“I told you,” Taehyung said sharply, sweeping his lush fur coat back to reveal his black turtleneck and black slacks, pointing an accusing finger at Jungkook. “Not to get her started, because she is a horny seductress.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung ticked his head, looking down at you. “Am I wrong?”

You pouted. “Well, no.”

“And,” he added, directing his attention at you. “Why would you not ask me to fuck first? I’ve seen you naked hundreds of times!”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Hundreds?”

Taehyung ignored him, leaning down and taking your chin. Brown eyes a mix of angry and amused, observing your lust. “I am offended that I respected you and you’re sitting in my roommate’s lap instead of mine.” His breath seemed like alcohol.

Your lips parted, heart beating fast. “S-sorry, Tae… You’re just always dragging me out of weird stuff that I thought you were disgusted by me…”

Taehyung brought his face close to you. You loved his voice. So deep, so intense, so heavy. It seemed to shake your soul with bass.

“I’ve wanted you on my dick the second I saw you.”

And then he kissed you, hard and full, as Jungkook’s fingers began to move inside you once again.

part ii: kth x you x jjk

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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