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cloudteawrites · 3 years

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chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.”A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.

#thebtswritersclub #hybridbtsnetwork #bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

#Bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #avengers fluff #the avengers #marvel #marvel fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #fatws

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person.

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve.

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun.

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings.

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll.

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections.

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to.

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail.

but you weren’t as lucky today.

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin.

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you.

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing.

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too.

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale.

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you.

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn.

she reminds you of yourself.

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck.

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job.

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again.

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you.

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine.

you look over your shoulder.

no one’s there.

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way.

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding.

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night.

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea.

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government.

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted.

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes.

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin.

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight.

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force.

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud.

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green.

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak.

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer.

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them.

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?”

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape.

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent.

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries?

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life.

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake.

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls.

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault.

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house.

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day.

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless.

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate.

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can.

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside.

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again.

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice.

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there.

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with.

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan.

you almost collapse against the brick wall.

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose.

until you saw who it was.

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday.

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try.

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma.

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down.

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times.

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left.

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes.

three times you’ve cheated death.

but time is up and your luck has run out.

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch.

naeun is nowhere to be seen.

good.

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare.

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience.

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it.

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket.

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances.

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper.

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you.

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder.

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you.

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings.

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you.

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke.

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone.

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath.

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase.

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium).

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin.

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them.

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory.

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball.

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

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#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renhyuck scenarios #renhyuck imagines #haechan imagines #renjun imagines #yandere haechan #yandere renjun #purge au #purge au nct dream #tw bullying #tw violence #tw purge au

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Second Chance | dark!Scott Lang x reader

summary: every perfect heist has five stages: identify the score, find your ‘in,’ enter unnoticed, get the score, and leave before anyone knows you were there. scott is good at heists, but not so good at relationships, family, or co-parenting with his ex. but he’s going to do it right this time, by starting a new family with you. he’s going to make sure you stay, by never letting you leave at all.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: noncon, stalking/yandere, breeding kink, overstimulation, kidnapping, innocence/corruption kink?, age gap, pregnancy, lil mention of lactation kink

note: this is set sometime around the plot of ant-man so cassie is still little, no snap/blip, none of that stuff!

Stage 1: Identify the score

Scott loved his daughter, but he hated having to share her with his ex-wife and her new husband.

The stepdad wasn't a bad guy… annoying, but not dangerous or anything, so Scott figured he should count his blessings. And Cassie was always a blessing.

But still, this was not the life he has envisioned for himself. He had always wanted to have a family, and in his mind that had meant actually being with them. Christmas around the fireplace, ice cream in the park, a dog named Rover— the whole shebang. Instead he had postcards from vacations he wasn’t invited to, visits supervised by social workers, and far too many missed recitals and games and plays. He couldn’t make up for time lost, he couldn’t undo everything that had ruined his shot at the picture-perfect family… but he could try again.

That’s where you came in.

Hank had introduced Scott to his new assistant one morning with almost no warning, and he’d been so flustered he almost forgot to shake your hand and greet you. You had on this little blouse with ruffles that was just too precious, and sparkly gold earrings outshined only by your eyes. He could imagine you by his side so easily, with gold on your finger to match, playing the part of his beautiful, obedient wife.

You were the perfect mark. Young: therefore innocent, too trusting, and hopefully plenty fertile. The fact that you were sweet and smart and adorable was just a bonus.

It seemed like you had taken a liking to him too, although there was more of a mentor/mentee dynamic than he had originally intended; as if you looked up to him, as opposed to acknowledging the fact that he was single and attractive like you were supposed to. Thankfully, he had a plan and he knew it was just a matter of time before he was going to get his second chance with you.

Stage 2: Find your ‘in.’

“Is this your card?” he asked, smiling when you nodded excitedly.

"Hey, you're pretty good!" you giggled as he slipped the playing card back into the deck. "How long have you been doing magic?"

"Uh, not long," he admitted, "I just learned this stuff to impress my daughter."

Your face shifted and he knew he had you. "Oh my god, that's so sweet!" you beamed. You were looking at him like you thought he was the most adorable guy in the world, and he tried not to smile too hard because he finally had his in. "You sound like an incredible dad."

"Well, I try…” he sighed, pulling for your sympathy, “it's tough only having her on weekends and stuff."

“Oh, I can’t even imagine,” you nodded with understanding. You won’t have to, Scott replied internally.

“Eh, I survive,” he shrugged. “When you love somebody that much… you take what you can get.”

He glanced away before looking back at you, admiring the puppy-dog eyes you were giving him.

“You’ll understand someday— assuming you, you know, want kids and all that,” he stammered, testing the waters but breathing a sigh of relief when you grinned.

“Oh, definitely. I mean, not right now, but definitely someday,” you agreed. He laughed a little, amused by the way you foolishly believed you would get to decide you would have kids. He probably would’ve still gone through with his plan even if you’d said you didn’t want any, but it was easier this way and he wanted to make sure his new family had a loving mother to care for them.

And loving was the only way to describe the expression on your face in that moment, presumably as you imagined your picturesque future. He could only dream that he was somewhere in your fantasy, but it didn’t really matter since he was about to insert himself into your reality regardless.

You waved goodbye when he left the lab that night, not knowing that he was just going to wait in his car for you to leave so he could follow you home.

Stage 3: Enter unnoticed.

Even though the stake out, like any, should’ve been horrifically boring, Scott found himself excited and oddly… peppy. It must have been the knowledge that tonight he was going to start the rest of his life, with somebody who wouldn’t— or rather, couldn’t— leave and take his child away.

At half-past one, when he was confident you were already completely asleep, he made his move. Breaking into your apartment was disturbingly simple, making him even more glad that he was getting you out of this place: a woman living alone should really have better security. The next issue was making sure you wouldn’t wake up when he took you. Thankfully, he had science on his side in the form of a gas he’d stolen from Hank’s lab; it wasn’t dangerous, just something to keep you asleep through being taken to your new home. All he had to do was pull the pin and roll the canister under your bedroom door, then give it time to clear so he could whisk you away.

There was still a little puff of smoke when he opened your bedroom door, but it didn't affect him— what did have an effect was the sight of you out cold on your bed. You looked peaceful, innocent… like his perfect little wife, ready for the taking.

He let himself ogle only for a moment at your body exposed by the thin pajamas, running his fingers over your sleeping silhouette.

You stirred slightly under his touch making him grin. So sensitive already…

The weight of you in his arms was every he'd dreamed it would be and more. So much waiting for his new lease on life, for his chance to do things right, and now all that he had to do was carry you home.

Stage 4: Get the score.

He waited for you to wake up, watching from the shadows as you slowly came to and tugged at your restraints. To be clear, he didn’t enjoy your distress, but he knew it was necessary. Plus, maybe he could comfort you and that idea excited him more than anything.

“Somebody help me!” you yelped, struggling uselessly against the ropes that secured each of your limbs to the bedposts.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Scott finally interjected as he stepped out into the light, your head whipping around to look at him. You looked relieved, for a moment.

“Scott,” you mumbled, “what are you doing here? What… what happened?”

“Nothing happened, you’re going to be just fine,” he explained calmly, taking a seat beside you on the bed. Your brow furrowed and your eyes darted around.

“Where am I?’

“You’re finally home.”

It was clear that you didn't understand quite yet, though the way your eyes darted around and your brow furrowed made it obvious you were starting to get the gist. "Scott, I… I don't…"

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, reaching up to cradle your face in his hand. It broke his heart slightly when you tried to turn your head away from his touch, but he was sympathetic to your reticence; it would be trained out of you soon, anyways. “Just relax, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine— not just fine: great.”

You shivered slightly and he was about to ask if you were cold, if he could get you a blanket or turn up the heating, but you spoke first. “What are you gonna do to me?” you asked, hesitant yet stern.

“Well, that depends on how well you behave,” he explained calmly.

“Will you let me go?” Your voice was softer, weaker, and it made his chest tighten; he loved you so much he didn’t know what to do with himself sometimes.

You let out a little sob when he shook his head in reply. “No, baby, I can’t. You don’t understand… you don’t know what it’s like, having a family and being away from them all the time. It’s torture; that’s why you’re here. This time you're not gonna leave me… never gonna let you out of my sights, sweetheart: you or the baby."

Your whole body tensed up as your eyes went wide, making him chuckle a little.

"Don't be so scared, you're gonna love it. I just know you're going to be an amazing mom…"

You tried to kick him away as he ran his hand up your leg, and even though it didn't work at all it still hurt his feelings. "Baby," he frowned, tutting disapprovingly, "don't be rude… just relax and it'll feel good."

His hand travelled higher, reaching up between your thighs where his finger gently brushed over your swollen bud through your pajama shorts. He smirked at the way it was clearly already aroused.

"See? You're gonna like it, you already want it," he purred.

His purr became a growl when he slipped two fingers into your panties and found your folds already slick and warm. He had meant to tease you a bit more but now he couldn’t stop himself from pushing his fingers into you and groaning at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around them. It was obvious that you were enjoying it just by the way your channel tightened and fluttered encouragingly, even if your face was twisted in conflict.

“It’s okay if it feels good,” he reminded you, rubbing his thumb over your clit and grinning when your back arched. “It’s okay to come.”

You shook your head, mumbling “no,” but it seemed more like you were talking to yourself than to him. It was sort of inspiring how much you were trying to hold yourself back even when he could feel your pleasure building with every curl of his fingers. The way you bit down on your lip to hide your moans was admirable but ultimately fruitless, your body jolting and shaking under him.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re so close, just come for me,” he cooed, knowing that you’d be so much more pliant once your first orgasm was out of the way.

He could see how badly you wanted, and needed, to obey him, but you were still foolishly resisting and trying to squirm away. In a moment of frustration, he used his free hand to push down on you just below your belly button: it served both to pin you to the bed and to push your spongy g-spot right into the tips of his fingers, making you choke and gurgle as your eyes shot open.

“There it is,” he grinned, “see how good I can make you feel? Go ahead, sweetheart, make a mess on my fingers…”

It wasn’t much longer until a new wave of wetness seeped from your opening, down around his hand and onto the sheets below, making him laugh a little purely out of pride.

“Fuck, just like that— keep going,” he demanded with a little growl, loving the way you writhed and gasped all for him. To see you like this was reward enough, but to know that nobody else would ever see you like this again, that you’d be his forever? It was nearly overwhelming.

He didn’t stop until your whines were too pained to bear— there was a clear difference between overstimulated and genuinely suffering, and his interest laid solidly in the first. Still, he loved the way you sighed with relief when he slowed down and pulled his fingers from you; already your body was limp and heavy, your eyes blinking slowly.

“Are you tired already? Baby, we’re just getting started,” he chuckled, standing up to strip quickly. He wasn’t sure if your shock was from seeing his body or knowing what he was going to do to you next, but it was likely some mixture of the two— definitely plenty of the first with the way your eyes scanned him while he took off his jeans. He was pretty proud of himself for staying in shape, and every long night at the gym was justified when he saw you swallow nervously at the sight of him. You had trouble hiding your arousal when your body was tied up and completely exposed to him, aside from the little pajama set that did nothing to hide your hardening nipples.

When he was naked, finally, he climbed onto the bed and slotted himself between your legs, ignoring the way you struggled beneath him to tear off your top.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered under his breath as your chest was finally freed, your tits jiggling a little whenever you tried to squirm away. “So fucking perfect…”

He grabbed one and held it steady so he could lean down and capture the nipple between his lips, humming when you whined and bucked beneath him.

“These are gonna get bigger when I knock you up, you know,” he smiled happily, looking up at where you were staring back with wide, wild eyes. “Gonna be full of milk for our little one.”

He moved to the other nipple slowly, circling it with his tongue before finally latching on and sucking it just hard enough to make you yelp slightly.

“Will you let me have a taste too, baby?” he teased, laughing at your expression that tried (and failed) to mask arousal with disgust.

Though he would have to wait to taste your milk, there was another part of you he could taste now— or as soon as he finished kissing his way down your stomach, and quickly ripping and disposing of your little shorts.

The second he got you naked for him, the smell of your need hit the air and it drove him fucking wild. Once again, his plans to tease you— kiss your thighs, leave little bite marks on your hips, give the gentlest licks to your swollen button— were lost to his desire, leaving him with no choice but to dive right in and devour you.

It was worth it to see you fall apart for him so quickly, your back arching dramatically as you grabbed the ropes that tied your hands just to have something to hold onto. He could tell nobody had ever eaten your cunt this good before, because if they had you wouldn’t have gasped so loudly when he pushed his tongue into you. The lewd slurping sounds that echoed around the basement reminded you both that every sound was trapped, just like you— it scared you more but it turned him on, his cock bobbing up against his abs in a silent beg for stimulation.

But it wasn’t quite time to fuck you. Close, but not yet. He needed to taste you at the peak of your pleasure first.

Two fingers pushed slowly into your pulsing channel definitely helped to speed things along: he could hear you getting louder, and feel you getting tighter. He could even feel your clit throbbing against his tongue, and it only made him want to push you further to the edge.

"I know you're so close honey, just let go," he purred between laps at your swollen bud.

Clearly you were still worn out from the last orgasm but it made it even easier to make you come this time, even when you were uselessly fighting it. Your broken little moans made his heart twist, and his cock flex slightly although he was doing his best to ignore it.

You started to relax and go limp, so he pulled back and took a moment to appreciate how lovely you looked, exhausted and blissed-out just from his touch.

"Doing so good for me, sweetheart," he praised huskily. "I think we've both waited long enough… I'm gonna put my cock in you now."

Your mumbles and heavy breaths almost sounded like you were considering begging him not to again, but apparently you were either too tired or too smart to keep that game up. He grinned as he scooted forward a bit so he could rub his cock between your swollen, slick lips; the way his thick shaft spread your folds was intoxicating, and he couldn't wait to see how it looked when he pushed into your tight cunt.

He literally couldn't wait: he was already guiding the head to your opening and sliding home.

You whimpered weakly and his head fell back with a groan. "God, baby, so fucking tight…"

Underneath where his hands rested on your legs, he could feel you struggling again.

"Shh, just take it honey, it's gonna be so good," he assured from between his teeth, jaw tight and heart racing. As much as slowing down and giving you some time to adjust would be the gentlemanly thing to do, he couldn't find the patience now that he was inside you and it felt so perfect.

When he was finally all the way within you and his hips were flush against yours, you made a little noise like a moan and a sob while he leaned down to cage your body in with his, resting his arms beside your head.

"See how perfect we are together? Like we're made for each other," he cooed, pouting a little when a tear fell from your eye. "Don't cry, baby," he soothed as he wiped it away with his thumb, "everything's finally right. I'm gonna move now, okay?"

But he didn't wait for your permission before he pulled back and pushed in again, stroking your walls with patience and precision.

Each thrust pushed the head of his cock right into that spongy spot inside you, making you gasp and tug on your restraints a bit— and you looked so beautiful in the throes of pleasure like this, spread out beneath him and your body at his disposal. But, disposal was the last of his plans for you: he wanted to savor you, make you feel as good as you made him feel (if that was even possible).

So, he did his best to target your most sensitive spots, grinning at your body's obvious reaction. Occasionally he would rub your clit with his thumb or reach up to play with your tits, but overall he stuck to just appreciating the perfect friction of your channel on the ridges and veins of his cock.

It didn't take much more of that for you to arch your back again, the weak moans that spilled from your lips just as much a sign of your orgasm as the way your inner muscles flexed around him.

"Just like that," he praised under his breath, "fuck, come for me baby…"

Moving faster and with more ferocity, he was able to push you into another one quickly as he grinned down at you.

"There you go, angel, just keep coming for me, I know you can give me one more—"

"N-no," you stammered, "can't…"

"Yes you can, honey, be my good little girl and come one more time for me," he encouraged, thrusting harder and faster as you whimpered and writhed. The fluttering of your walls brought his own orgasm close but he staved it off as he fought to get one last glimpse of you at the height of your pleasure. "There you go," he grinned when he felt your body tense up only to relax all at once, a beautiful broken whine echoing around the room.

The sensation of his balls tightening was always a sign that he was close, but it was much stronger now than normal and he knew he was going to come so hard.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned. "Gonna fill you up so good that you have to get pregnant."

"Scott, please," you whimpered, "please just pull out."

"I can't, honey, I couldn't if I wanted to— you just feel too good," he explained, thrusting faster as he began to lose his rhythm. "Fuck, just like that— oh god, baby, I'm coming, fuck!"

He groaned as finally he felt each pump of come paint the deepest parts of you, not stopping until he spilled every drop.

You tried to squirm but he held your hips tight, the little pulses of your walls milking his cock for all it was worth. "Baby," he sighed as he started to catch his breath, "fuck, you're amazing."

Your sweet little body shivered beneath him, making him frown sympathetically and rub your arms.

"Aw, honey, are you cold?" he soothed, hugging you tight and giving you a peck on the tip of your nose.

"Why…" you mumbled, so quiet that he almost didn't hear it, as your eyes fluttered shut.

"It's okay, honey, I'm right here," he promised, "I know you're tired, you can go to sleep now."

Stage 5: Leave before anyone knows you were there.

This one didn’t exactly apply in this case, since nobody was leaving anywhere anytime soon; he was going to stay with you as long as he could, only leaving when work absolutely demanded it. In fact, his first order of business was to go back to the lab and bring your letter of resignation with him. With some bargaining he got you to sign it, and once it was done he could barely keep it together at work all day— he just couldn’t wait to get home and be with you again, knowing that the last of the loose ends were tied and nobody was going to come looking for you.

You adjusted to domestic life rather well, especially once you started showing and your maternal instincts started to overpower the independence you used to value.

"Good morning, angel," he purred against your ear as you stirred in his arms, your movements rustling the sheets of your shared king bed. He hummed as he ran his hands over your body, resting on your round, swollen belly where he suddenly felt his child kicking underneath. "Did you feel that?" he gasped.

"Mm-hmm," you mumbled sleepily, cuddling up closer to him and resting your hands on top of his. "That's our baby."

He kissed your cheek and smiled, trying to comprehend how he ever got so lucky. After all, second chances are hard to come by.

#scott lang x reader #dark!scott lang x reader #dark!scott lang smut #dark!scott lang x you

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peggyrose19 · 3 years

Text

Be My Sweetheart

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY PEOPLES I LOVE YOU ALL.

I hope you’ve all had a wonderful day, whether you celebrated the holiday or not. I wrote a little O’Knutzy fic for you all, it changed plot about five times before I actually finished it. Totally didn’t read this over, it’s fine. Characters belong to @lumosinlove like always. Happy Sunday y’all <333

cw: food mentions

Leo collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh, glad to finally be home. He might love the team but damn did they sap his energy sometimes. The adrenaline from the game was fading now, leaving him drained and exhausted.

“You okay baby?” Finn asked then, pulling Leo out of his daze. He sat next to him, pulling his feet into his lap and rubbing them gently.

“Tired,” he sighed.

“You want dinner? I think there’s leftovers in the fridge. And I have a gift for you two.”

“Dinner would be great.” Leo smiled gratefully up at him. “And I have something for you, it’s in my room. After dinner?” Finn nodded and kissed him on the cheek before disappearing from his side, presumably heading to the kitchen. Leo’s eyes slipped shut as he let himself relax, sinking into the couch cushions.

A gentle hand shook him awake some time later. “Le.” It was Finn, standing over him with a bowl in his hand. “Here, dinner.”

“Thanks, Fish,” he mumbled, sitting up. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep. Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Finn sat down beside him with his own bowl. “Well, we did just play a whole game of hockey. And then went out with the team. I’m not surprised.”

“Mm. Too many people,” Leo added around his food.

“You want me to leave you alone?” Finn asked. Leo smiled. He always seemed to know.

“No, it’s okay. You guys don’t count as people.”

“Aww, sweetheart,” Logan cooed, appearing on Leo’s other side and plopping down beside him with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two small gift bags in the other, throwing his legs over both Leo and Finn. He set the bags down and clutched the bowl closer. “You like us,” he teased.

Leo shoved his legs off. “Fuck off,” he laughed. Logan pouted and pulled his legs back into their laps.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, fighting off a yawn. “Something cheesy and romantic? It is Valentine’s Day.”

“What’s in the bags?” Finn asked instead of answering, peering over at him.

“So nosy.” Finn pouted.

Logan sighed dramatically. “Here you go.” He handed one to each.

“Oh wait!” Leo jumped up, disturbing Logan again. “I have something for you too.” He disappeared down the hall.

Finn laughed. “I told him earlier we were doing gifts.” He reached down and grabbed the bag sitting unnoticed at his feet, handing it to Logan. “Wait til Leo gets back, it’s for both of you.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Leo reappeared in the doorway holding a package in each hand. He gave one to both Finn and Logan before plopping back down again in the middle.

“Okay ready,” he said.

Finn laughed again. “Alright Lo, you can open that now. It’s for both of you.”

Leo helped as Logan pulled away the tissue paper. A picture frame was nestled inside, and Logan pulled it out. Inside was a photo of the three of them, on the ice after winning the Cup. All of them were beaming, unaware of the camera, jumping in each other's arms, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

Leo and Logan both smiled.

“It’s perfect,” Leo declared, taking the frame gently from Logan and studying it closely. “Where did you get this picture?”

“Lily took it, sent it to me.”

“Aww, that was sweet of her.” They all examined the picture for a moment, Logan and Finn leaning over Leo’s shoulder to see.

“Okay, I want you to open now,” Leo said suddenly, setting the picture down on the coffee table and turning to his boys expectantly.

“Alright, alright,” Logan laughed, and he tugged the package Leo had given him towards himself, tearing at the wrapping paper. Leo wriggled excitedly.

Finn laughed. “Haven’t seen you this excited in a while, Nutty.”

Leo just shrugged. “I like giving gifts.”

Logan gasped then and they both turned to him. “Leo is this…” Logan trailed off, pulling the snapback from the shreds of wrapping paper. It was black and read ‘NOLA’ in large white lettering across the front. Logan put it on, shoving his curly hair down. “I love it,” he declared. Leo smiled.

“I’m glad. I had my mom get it and send it to me. She also sent us a box of pralines, they’re in the kitchen, yes I’m going to make you try one Finn.”

“Are those the pecan candy thingies?” Finn asked.

“Uh, sure,” Leo laughed, “If that’s what you want to call them.”

“It is,” Finn declared with a smacking kiss to Leo’s cheek. “Alright Nutter Butter, what did you get me?” He tore at the wrapping paper of the rectangular package Leo had handed him. Inside was a book, paperback, the cover teal and familiar. “Le…”

“You said you lost yours when you first moved here. And I know it’s your favorite. So, I got you a new one.”

Finn stared down at the book in his hands. The Song of Achilles. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Logan made a noise and they both looked over at him.

“What is it?” Finn asked.

“I took it,” Logan sniffed. “Your copy. I grabbed it before you left for Gryffindor.”

“That’s where it went?”

“You were always carrying it around, talking about it constantly. It reminded me of you. I grabbed it from the box when you weren’t looking. As a reminder I guess. Of you. Us.”

“Lo, baby,” Finn sighed, reaching for him. Logan leaned into his touch, Finn’s hand gentle on his cheek.

“D’you still have it?” Logan nodded soundly.

“I couldn’t bear to get rid of it.”

“Well this makes my gifts seem weak,” Logan sniffed with a small laugh.

“What did you get?” Finn asked bemusedly.

“Open them.” Finn and Leo both looked into the bags Logan had handed them earlier.

Leo’s eyes widened. “Are these what I think they are?” he asked incredulously.

“Uh, what do you think they are?”

Leo reached into the bag and pulled out a familiar plastic egg. He gasped. “They are!”

“Leo what?” Finn just looked confused.

“It’s a Kinder egg!” he exclaimed excitedly. “They don’t sell them in the US, apparently they’re a hazard or something, stupid if you ask me but.” He turned to Logan, “Did you smuggle these back from Canada?”

Logan smirked. “It’s possible.”

“I love you.”

“I’m lost.”

“They’re illegal here,” Leo explained, handing Finn the egg. “Cause there’s a toy inside and apparently it’s a choking hazard or something. They’ve been banned here since like, the 1930s.”

“Why do you know that?” Logan asked.

Leo shrugged. “I dunno, I was curious one day, looked it up. Plus I love these.”

“Oh. Well, I got pretzel m&ms.” Finn held up the bag.

“You’re always sneaking them,” Logan shrugged. “Even though they’re not in our diet plan. And I know you’re not a big ‘sweet’ person.”

“Thanks, Tremz,” Finn smiled. He tore the bag open and shoved a handful in his mouth, grinning happily around it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mon amors,” Logan said softly, leaning into Leo.

“You too, Tremz,” Leo murmured.

“Love you.”

They all stayed there for a moment, curled together in the quiet of their apartment, feeling the weight and the warmth of each other.

“Wanna do a movie?” Logan broke the silence eventually.

“Sounds good,” Leo agreed.

“The Notebook?” Finn suggested, grabbing the remote to turn the television on. Leo and Logan both shrugged. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Logan just shoved more popcorn in his mouth, snuggling closer to Leo. Finn glanced at them fondly as he waited for the movie to load, grabbing a blanket to throw over all three of them.

“‘M glad you’re here,” Leo said sleepily, nuzzling into Finn’s shoulder. Finn glanced down at him fondly. Normally Logan was the one clinging to him.

“Glad you’re here too, Peanut,” Logan whispered, leaning in to kiss his temple.

Ten minutes in, Leo was fast asleep, leaning heavily into Finn. Logan watched Leo instead of the movie, face relaxed and peaceful in slumber, soft curls falling into his face. A while later his eyes slipped shut too, and he let them, choosing to ignore the fact that he was going to regret this in the morning.

Finn glanced down at them, smiling softly, and turned the tv down. It wasn’t long before he was asleep too, comforted by the lull of the movie and the weight of Leo and Logan against him. It was a good night.

#o'knutzy #low-key valentine's day celebrations #for once finn got a good gift #cuties #valentine's day #food cw #love you al #<3 #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

iida 😍😍😍 that’s it that’s the request

LMAO WELL HAVE I GOT THE 3 PART 7K FIC FOR YOU-

Stay tuned y’all, I’m posting all parts + true ending all at once HAHA

——————

Iida x reader - Iida Tenya’s Imaginary Boyfriend (pt.1)

⚠️Warnings - um...idk but, a teeny weeny bit of ooc Iida bc haha

Pronouns - male, he/him

Part two can be found here!

The true ending can be found here! (Pt.3)

——————

Tapping your fingers on a surface repeatedly is a past time that Iida found rather irritable. Along with chewing or clicking on pens, bobbling your knee, fumbling with your hands, things like that.

Though, Iida couldn’t help himself from tugging and tapping on the light red watch strapped firmly to his wrist, checking it habitually.

Uraraka eyed Iida as he tiredly rubbed at the bridge of his nose, staring down the black clock hands as they moved too slowly for his liking. “8 more hours till I can see (L/n)-kun again...” he mumbled ever so quietly, pulling his grey sleeve back down.

He drummed his fingers on the side of his desk once more. Uraraka pursed her lips.

————

“Ne, Iida-kun, you look sort of...restless, these days. Did something happen?”

Iida looked up from his lunch. He hadn’t realized he was picking at his rice until Midoryia set a hand on his shoulder. He untensed and grasped his chopsticks correctly. “I assure you everything’s..alrig-“

“Who is ‘(L/n)-kun’, Iida?”

Uraraka butt in, both hands clenched and resting on the table. Iida stood silent for a tad too long.

“W-well I heard you mumble something about ‘8 more hours till I can see ‘(L/n)-kun’ again’ in class today a-and I was just wondering-“

“It’s no one you know.” Iidas voice was uncharacteristically dismissive and unstable. Two words that never would be used to describe Iida Tenya.

Iida abruptly rose from his seat. “I apologize. I need to do something.”

He briskly walked towards the exit of the cafeteria. Midoryia watched as he discreetly fumbled with the straps of a light red watch barely hidden by his blazer sleeve. He turned back to the table, to Uraraka and Todoroki.

“What do you think happened to Iida-kun? He barely seems like himself...”

“It’s been like that for about a month now, has it not?” Todoroki tapped on his chin with the butt of his chopsticks. Uraraka sighed.

“think it has something to do with this ‘(L/n)’ person?”

Todoroki shrugged. Midoryia sighed, bringing a forkful of rice into his mouth before stopping. “Actually, I think I remember Iida asking me about someone like, a month ago.”

“Was it ‘(L/n)-kun’?” Todoroki and Uraraka questioned, almost in unison. Midoryia let his fork drop back into his bowl. “I...I’m not sure. I think he was asking me about a name like...Ryota? No...Tadashi? No no, that wasn’t it...”

Midoryia rubbed at his chin, before a name popped into his mouth. “Oh! I remember! He asked me...”

———

“...Midoryia-kun, have you seen (L/n)-kun this morning? I haven’t seen him and he has my Quirk-Law textbook.”

Midoryia looked at Iida like he grew a second head. “...gomen, who?

It was Iida’s turn to look confused. He stopped eating his breakfast and faced Midoryia fully. “...(L/n)-kun. (L/n) (Y/n)?”

“Theres no one here named that, Iida-kun...” Midoryia awkwardly gulped down his water, filling his mouth to prevent him from accidentally saying something harsh. He wasn’t sure if he was in the wrong, or Iida was just plain on delusional.

Iida pursed his lips and turned to Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Todoroki. Perhaps Midoryia was just feeling a bit amnesic. Plus, (Y/n) was real close with Uraraka, even if it was slightly to close for his liking. So, she was bound to be able to answer Iidas inklings, right?

“Uraraka-kun, surely you’ve seen (L/n)-kun this morning, am I wrong? A-and what about you, Tsuy-I mean Tsu-chan. Todoroki-kun.”

All three of them gave him the same look of disarray Midoryia had gave him. Tsuyu shook her head while Todoroki grunted out a “no.” Uraraka pitifully set a hand on Iidas shoulder.

“Iida, are you feeling alright? There’s no one here named ‘(L/n)’...”

“Sure there is!” Iida was starting to get a little frazzled. Is this some kind of sick joke? If it was, he’d be willing to laugh it off right now. Surely any second, (L/n) would come running down, claiming he overslept and scarf down his breakfast. Where was he? He was waiting.

One by one, everyone surrounding Iida started to oogle at him, watching as their level headed class rep unraveled at the seams. “W-why must you all look at me like I’m crazy! Have you all forgotten about your own classmate?!”

Iida cursed himself for raising his voice. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding while Yaoyorozu silently counted all the people eating breakfast.

“...19...20. Yeah, no, everyone’s here. All 20. We have not forgotten anyone, Iida-san.”

Iida grit his teeth, a wave of worry piercing down his spine. “20? You can’t have counted 20 in this class if you have not counted (L/n)-kun!”

Everyone copied the look of confusion Iidas friends made. He broke into a cold sweat, grasping at the corners of the table. “(L/n)! (H/c) hair? (E/c) eyes? Accidentally stepped on Bakugou-kuns toe and had to be sent to the nurses office last week?”

People murmured and shook their heads amongst themselves. Some with genuine confusion and others with plain worry. Iida’s lost it, is what their probably thinking.

Iida stammered. “H-how can-“

“Iida-chan, don’t you think we would’ve known if we forgot someone? And don’t you think it’s weird we all collectively forgot this person you’re talking about? Sorry to say, Iida-chan, but this (L/n) person most likely isn’t real. Or we just don’t know him, kero.”

Iida opened his mouth to say something. Tsuyu looked at him with her blank stare, before subtly gesturing to everyone else with her head. He looked around the table.

Everyone either nodded tentatively or downcast their eyes as to mask their pitiful agreement. Everyone seemed to silently agree with her. Iida was stunned into submission.

He scrambled out of his seat. His voice cracked in disbelief. This was a joke. It had to be. “I-I’m going to go wake him up. He’s...he’s probably still sleeping. That’s all. You all are just being delusional.”

He walked as calmly as he could away from the common room, but once he turned the corner, he started sprinting. He hiked up the fabric of his pants over his calves as he ran, running up the stairs next to the elevator. The elevator would’ve took too long.

Running up to the fourth floor, he skidded to a halt in-front of (Y/n’s) dorm. Iida’s hand went up to grasp the doorknob, before hesitating and letting it rest flaccidly on the handle.

“(L/n)-kun?” Nothing was heard or called from inside the room. He really is a heavy sleeper. Iida swallowed the growing lump in his throat. Why was he so nervous?

Outside (Y/n’s) room, he knocked gently on the frame of the door. His voice wavered. “(L/n)!”

There’s no response.

“(Y/n)-kun!”

Nothing.

He really didn’t want to enter his room like this. It was a breach of privacy. What if he was just changing? No, if he were changing he could’ve surely heard him knock and call out his name. He has to be asleep.

He really left him no choice. Iida gently opened the door.

“...(y/-“

White.

He was face to face with an white, blank, empty room. The supplementary provided curtains were drawn closed and there was dust gathering around the bare floorboards. There was no trace of the dimly lit room, with papers strewn across the wooden desk and a bed that was never folded or made. There was no trace of the oddly sweet smell that came from his room, that never really bothered anyone, but no one ever knew was caused it.

There was no trace of (L/n) (Y/n).

Iida felt his knees buckle from underneath him. His legs promptly folded together, his engines digging into the skin of thighs. His jaw went slack. He heard footsteps echoing closer, eventually dying out with the assumption that that someone was behind him. He felt uneasy. He felt like throwing up.

“Iida...?” Uraraka’s voice was soft, like treading on thin ice. He heard Yaoyorozu hum softly, worry lacing her vocal cords. He panned his head slowly towards them, not wanting to look at the blank room once filled with life anymore.

“He’s...gone.”

“‘He’ was never here, Iida-San” Yaoyorozu crouched down, tucking her elbows in. “Do you need to talk to a professional...?”

“No! I need to speak with (L/...” Iida’s voice trailed off. There was no point in fighting a losing battle. He knew Uraraka and Yaoyorozu wouldn’t believe him. No one seemed to.

“...most likely...”

———

Uraraka’s eyes widened. “I...I remember that!”

Midoryia shoveled some food into his mouth. “Yeah, he seemed really out of it since then. He didn’t even notice when Kaminari-kun cheated on last weeks quiz.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd he still hasn’t gotten over this person even after a month? Iida isn’t the type to dwell on things. Whoever this (L/n) person is, he’s obviously important to him in some way.” Todoroki slurped up more of his soba. Midoryia and Uraraka silently agreed.

“Well-Deku said it himself-this person isn’t real!” Uraraka knitted her eyebrows together, slumping back in her chair. “And even if we tried asking Iida, he’ll probably blow us off again...”

“Still...he got me curious...I wonder what ‘(L/n)-kun’ looks like...”

Midoryia’s ears perked up. He shuffled around in his pockets, fishing out his phone and booting up a search engine. Typing vigorously, Todoroki and Uraraka leaned over the table and across his shoulder to see what he was typing. His screen turned pink, displaying a website.

“M-My mom was talking about this place a few days ago...I-we could get some information out of Iida-if he lets us take him-and know what (L/n)-kun looks like-!”

The bell rang, cutting Midoryia off promptly. He saved the address down in his notes, sending the web address to his two friends and pocketing his phone once more. Todoroki set his tray on top of the trash can, dusting off his blazer.

“It’s decided. We’ll go after afternoon classes. I’ll go get a permission slip from Mr Aizawa to leave campus. I trust you two can convince Iida to come along?”

Midoryia and Uraraka nodded. It was a plan.

———

The four stood in front of a small corner shop, it’s sign looking like it was made of cheap plastic, with the words “Art through words” written in dark pink cursive.

It was very off putting, but it had been gaining popularity through social media and other networking apps. Apparently it’s very popular with people who lost a loved one or police looking for a sketch of a villain.

“I...still don’t see why you two requested my presence he-“

“We just wanna know something.” Was all Uraraka said. Midoryia and Todoroki had a firm grip on each of Iidas shoulder blades, shoving him in through the narrow door while Uraraka strut in happily.

The doorbell gave a small jingle. A pale, soft-eyed woman looked up from her desk, her reddish-pink lips quirking up into a soft smile. Her wavy blond hair flowed as she stood up from her chair, leaning over the receptionist desk and resting her elbows on the surface.

“I take it you must be ‘Izuku’. Thank you for calling earlier.”

Midoryia hummed. The lady smiled warmly, leaving her desk to lead them to a door. “Well, follow me, kids. Sorry, my receptionist is on break-I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of scam arti-“

“No no, we’ve seen you around on videotube...and your quirk is amazing...”

“I’m sorry, may I ask who and what we are doing here?”

Everyone turned to Iida. The woman smiled gently, taking a seat behind a sketchbook propped up by an easel. The 4 took a seat across from her, sinking down into a pink couch. “I apologize. Let me give you my formal greeting.”

“My name is Kaitekina Byouga. I can illustrate anything someone describes with complete accuracy, as long as you aren’t lying about your description.” Iida pursed his lips.

“My business usually caters towards people who lose loved ones, so it’s strange to see such...young teenagers in my studio,”

Iida stiffened. He finally caught on. ‘Lost loved one’. It was obvious. He supressed a pointed glare at his friends, choosing to adjust his glasses instead.

“Alright,” Kaitekina flipped open her sketchbook, setting it back down on the easel. “Who’s going to describe something to me?”

Everyone gestured at Iida.

——————

Hahaha suffer

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electrictoes · 3 years

Text

All We Are

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 4: “What is this between us? Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi

Read on AO3

They don’t define this thing between them - it just is.

After a week, Sonny thinks maybe they should - but he’s so happy, and he doesn’t want to break this calm comfort they’ve found in each other by putting labels on things that have never needed to be labelled before.

Everyone around them is so curious though; other people want it defined. And it shouldn’t matter - shouldn’t be anyone’s business but their own. But it isn’t that simple. Their friends and family make no secret of the fact that they've been waiting for this almost as long as he has.

He skipped out on most of Memorial Day weekend with his family for the first time in his life - only putting in an appearance in his parents’ backyard late on Monday afternoon, a white lie on his lips; that he’s been stuck at work - a lie his mother sees through in an instant.

He can’t stop checking his phone; types and deletes a message to Amanda - an I miss you that he can’t bring himself to send, because it’s so ridiculous. He sends her a photo of the backyard filled with family instead, and smiles down at his phone when she sends him a photo back - the girls at the park, ice cream cones in their hands, sprinkles and chocolate sauce already trailing down Billie’s arm.

He tries to duck out of sight to call her a little later, but his mother catches him as he creeps up the stairs to his childhood bedroom; she stands at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, a scolding frown on her face - he hears the Dominick before she says it, and slinks back down to the hallway without a word, thinking about how he’s a prosecutor and he faces tougher opponents than his mother on a daily basis, but no one can reduce him to his thirteen year old self like she can.

His mom doesn’t let him slip back out to the party, her grip on his arm is firm as she tugs him into the kitchen, “Alright, out with it,” she says and he feigns confusion.

“I don’t-”

“It’s either a girl, or it’s something bad,” she says, arms crossed over her chest, a shadow of worry on her face. “And your sister told me you broke up with-”

Sonny sighs, resisting the urge to fold his own arms. He hadn’t actually told Bella that at all, just relayed one of the many arguments he and Nicole had had before they’d called it quits, but he wasn’t surprised that she’d drawn her own conclusions. “Bella needs to stop gossipin’ about me.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothin’ to-” His mother fixes him with a look that would have had him running to his bedroom as a kid; he resists the urge to bolt now. “It’s new,” he says, and because his mom doesn’t so much as blink, he adds. “Rollins.”

There’s a part of him that’s almost giddy at the way she reacts - the way her posture softens and she smiles up at him. He enjoys it for half a second before the questions start coming in thick and fast - he deflects, but she ploughs on.

“So the two of you are-”

“Figuring that out,” he says. He listens to her as she talks about not wasting time, tells him he’s not getting any younger, reminds him his grandmother’s engagement ring is still sitting in her jewellery box upstairs just waiting for him to need it.

“Way too far ahead of yourself, Ma,” he says - too far ahead but still visible there on the horizon.

The closest they come to having the what is this? conversation in those early days is the is this a secret? conversation.

“I don’t want it to be,” Sonny admits, “But if you wanna wait until-”

“Until what?” Amanda asks him, “I’m sure,” she says. “If you are.”

They’re on the couch, the girls fast asleep down the hall and her feet resting in his lap; it’s casual and domestic and not really all that different from the way things have always been, but he lets himself take it in, appreciate the way his world is changing. He rests his hands on her shins as he smiles over at her, “I’m sure,” he says. And that’s it.

Everything left unsaid passes between them in looks, kisses, and touches. They don’t need more.

They don’t advertise it; there’s a time when they’ll have to - disclosure paperwork and conversations about professionalism and objectivity as though they haven’t been managing just fine up until now. But Sonny’s diligent - he’s checked the paperwork - he might have checked the paperwork over a year ago, when she’d left him at his desk with a sad smile and he’d spent the next forty-eight hours kicking himself, only for a global pandemic to stop him calling in that rain check - and he knows they have time.

They do arrive at the precinct together one Tuesday morning a couple of weeks in; he has a meeting scheduled with Liv first thing and he hasn’t been back to his own apartment in three days. They’re not so blatant as to hold hands, but they do work with some of the best detectives in the city, so it isn’t a surprise that they’re caught out within minutes.

Fin gives them look, but he doesn’t say anything. Sonny’s sure he’ll get a comment in at some point, but while everyone knows Fin enjoys a gossip way more than he lets on, he’s good at keeping his questions to himself until the moment that best suits him.

Kat doesn’t follow suit. She’s nothing but questions and Sonny tries to escape under the guise of waiting for the captain in her office, but Amanda grips his jacket sleeve, silently telling him not leave her.

“How long?” Kat asks, “And what exactly-”

“Our business,” Amanda says; she’s smiling at Kat, no malice in her tone, but no room for argument either.

Jesse get a pass. Because she’s Jesse. And because this affects her just as much as it does Sonny and Amanda. For the first two weeks of waking up to Uncle Sonny sleeping in Mommy’s bed she doesn’t ask any questions - it surprises him, because that first morning waking up beside Amanda his second thought had been that they would have to figure out how to explain his presence there to Jesse and Billie. When Jesse had raced into Amanda's bedroom, though, she had just greeted him like she was used to him being there, and he’d wondered if they’d ever actually need to sit them down and explain.

Eventually she does ask, one night after he’s tucked Billie into bed with a kiss so it’s just the three of them awake. He leans in the bathroom doorway while Amanda gives Jesse her bath. She’s been unusually quiet, and there’s a thoughtful look on her face, “Mommy,” she says after a while, blinking water out of her eyes as Amanda washes her hair, “Is Uncle Sonny your husband now?”

Amanda coughs as though she’s the one with a face full of water, turning to look at Sonny with a startled expression. He gives her a soft smile, but he doesn’t have the answers either.

“Not yet, baby,” she says, and Sonny can’t help the grin that comes over his face, however wide Amanda’s eyes go at her own words.

“You’ve gotta have a weddin’ first,” Sonny adds, and Jesse beams over at him; he sees a dozen questions forming, but Amanda pours more water over her head, rinsing out the shampoo and buying them more time in the same moment.

Once she’s out of the bath, dressed in her pyjamas and ready for bed, Jesse throws her arms around his legs, hugging him tightly, “I’m glad you’re gonna have a wedding with Mommy,” she says, and tips her head back for a goodnight kiss before skipping to her bedroom as though she hadn’t essentially just told him to get on with proposing to her mother.

Amanda’s mother shows up unannounced at her apartment one Sunday morning, and it’s Sonny who answers the door - not expecting Beth Anne Rollins to be standing in the hallway, an impatient look on her face. “Oh,” is all she says when she clocks sight of him, her gaze travelling down the worn t-shirt and pyjama pants he’s wearing, his bare feet on the wooden floor. She pushes past him into the apartment, not greeting him or stopping for breath, “What are you doing here? Amanda finally admit she’s got a thing for you?”

He closes the door behind her and follows, not answering her questions. Billie scrambles down from the dining table to run and hug her grandmother, abandoning the cereal he’s spent the last ten minutes trying to coax her into eating, while she’d stubbornly refused and told him she wanted garlic bread for breakfast.

“Where is Amanda anyway?” Beth Anne asks, turning to look at him again. He feels self-conscious with her gaze on him, the soft clothes, untamed hair, shoeless Sonny Carisi was reserved for Amanda - and by extension the girls - certainly not for his possible future mother-in-law.

“Takin’ Frannie for a walk,” he says, “Jesse’s gone too,” he adds unnecessarily.

Beth Anne nods, still eyeing him with suspicion as she reaches into her handbag and pulls out a lollipop for Billie, who grabs at it gleefully.

“No-” he starts, but Beth Anne is already unwrapping the treat, and he sighs as Billie puts it in her mouth. “She hasn’t finished her breakfast,” he sighs.

“And who says you get to tell me what my granddaughter can eat?” Beth Anne says, smiling indulgently at Billie.

Sonny shakes his head, “I’m gonna… if you’re here I’m gonna get dressed,” he slips away to the bedroom, taking jeans and a shirt from the drawer he now has in Amanda’s dresser. While he changes he hears the sounds of Amanda’s return - Frannie barking, Jesse yelling a greeting to her grandmother. He hears murmuring as Amanda questions Beth Anne’s impromptu visit, and when he returns Amanda and her mother are at opposite ends of the kitchen, Amanda leaning back against the counter with an unimpressed look on her face.

“And then he tries to tell me not to give Billie candy-”

Amanda shakes her head, “He's right. It’s barely 9am, Momma.”

“Well, is he your boyfriend now or not?”

“Momma,” Amanda starts, but cuts herself off when she spots him hovering just beyond the kitchen, she gives him a warm smile, “We’re together, that’s all that matters,” she says, meeting his eye - all she feels and all that goes unsaid held in her gaze for him to see.

They fill in the disclosure paperwork that evening; they don’t have to just yet; they’ve still got time, Sonny’s been keeping the deadline in his head, but Amanda leaves him on the couch and goes out into the entryway where her work bag is; she returns a moment later, a manila folder in her hands that she passes over to him as she sits down. The form inside is mostly filled out - all their basic information already there in Amanda’s handwriting, the only empty boxes are Date of Disclosure, and Nature of Relationship.

“Time to make it official?” he asks, and she pokes his arm gently.

“It’s already official, Carisi,” she says, “Unless you’re thinking otherwise.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head at her, “You got a pen?”

“We’ve got to decide what to write in that box,” she tells him tapping the Nature of Relationship box with the pen she’s just grabbed. “Whatever we’re calling this,” she gestures between the two of them.

“According to Jesse, I’m your future husband,” he says, only half-joking.

Amanda just laughs at him, “I think you’d need to write fiancé,” she says, “But you’re not getting off that lightly - you need to propose to me yourself,” she tells him; she glances away as she adds, “Not yet, though.”

Someday, he thinks, leaning over, a hand reaching for her face, turning her back towards him so that he can kiss her; she lets him, kissing him right back for a minute or so before she puts one palm to his chest, pushing him back from her, “Carisi, let’s finish this first.”

He sighs as he pulls away, but it’s worth it not to have missed the impatient smirk on her face.

“I got it,” he tells her, resting the sheet of paper on his knee as he adds one word to the empty box. Partners.

#carisi week #sonny carisi #rollisi #rollisi fic #svu #svu fic #my fic #amanda rollins

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lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter eleven

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3560

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Honestly, this chapter reads a little weird to me but my friend who helps me edit said it was fine. IDK going from the 40s to 2012 is weird when trying to write.

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Masterlist

Seven months had gone by since Steve and I had been unfrozen. This new world I suddenly woke up in was exhausting. Everything had changed from the simplest thing like manners to complicated things like technology.

Days after waking up, we had been sent to a place called “The Retreat” so we could catch up on the seventy years we had missed out on. There was so much that we took to writing everything down in small notebooks, so we could remember.

I caught onto using the new technology quicker than Steve since I had worked with Howard Stark for several years. Being able to adapt to strange and new tech on the fly was a requirement when working with him.

After those few weeks there, we were both moved into two separate government apartments located in New York. I wish I could say that it got easier with time, but it didn’t. Instead of going to hang out with Steve or actually trying to make acquaintances with anyone, I just stayed in my room, locked away from everything. Coping with being in the future was the easy part, learning to live without everyone I ever knew was hard.

I hadn't known peaceful sleep in a long time. Every time I closed my eyes I am met with nightmares. The softness of the mattress had made it feel like I would fall through at any moment, back into the ice. To try and combat this I pushed my bed into the far corner of the room and made a cot directly under the frame. It felt safer to lay on the hard floor in the dark. The nightmares still came through, sometimes they were battles, sometimes they were of the plane crashing, but most of the time they were about losing Bucky. Every time I woke up in a cold sweat and never went back to bed. I just stared unblinking at the metal that made the bed frame.

One night after a particularly taxing dream I decided to take a walk. It was three in the morning, so I wouldn't have to deal with a lot of people. I changed out of my pajamas into some of the clothes I had been provided. The clothes of the future were tighter than in the forties. It had taken me a while to get used to the feeling of fabric clinging to my legs and upper body. The outside world was quiet except for the occasional car passing by. I kept my eyes to the ground, not really caring where I ended up. I only looked up when I was almost run over by another late-night walker. Peering from left to right, my eyes fixed on an old faded sign hanging above me. The letters were just barely readable and said in large letters ‘Boxing gym’. With another survey of the area, I realized where I was. This was the gym that Bucky used to take Steve when teaching him self-defense. I had tagged along a couple of times before I had joined the SSR, I was surprised it was still here. I smiled weakly and turned to the door. The light inside was on, it couldn’t hurt to see if they were open. The door creaked open and I slipped in quietly. The sound of someone working out came down the long brick hallway. Hesitantly I made my way to the open doors that led to the sparring room.

Stopping just past the threshold, to my surprise, I spotted Steve, who was busy punching the life out of a punching bag. I walked through the small office and around the boxing rings before I stopped again and leaned against one of the columns a few feet away from where Steve stood. I watched him for a while before he landed a hard punch on the bag and it flew off into the distance. I started clapping slowly and he turned around in shock.

“Good job, you broke the bag, but you do know you’re gonna have to pay for that right?”

“Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a while. I came by your apartment but you didn’t answer.”

“I know Stevie, I just haven't felt up to company since we got back to New York. I hope you can forgive me.” He looked at me with sad eyes and took three long steps in my direction. His arms came out to engulf me in a hug.

“It’s okay, I understand. Promise you’ll tell me if something's wrong, okay?” I nodded into his chest and he squeezed me tighter.

“I couldn't sleep, I guess you couldn't either.”

“No, too many thoughts.” He let go of me and went to get two more punching bags. He hung them up a few feet away from one another before turning to me and asking if I wanted to join. Pretty soon we were both laughing together if it felt almost like we were back home before everything happened. That was until the same dark-skinned man from that day seven months ago showed up. I later learned he was Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.

“I’m glad to find you both here.” He stated.

“Are you here with a mission, Sir?” Steve asked.

“I am.”

“Is this to try and get us back out in the world?” I asked.

“No, I'm trying to save it.” he thrust out an open manila folder. I grabbed it slowly and brought it to where Steve and I could both look at it. The blue cube that had evaporated Johann Schmidt was in the photograph pinned to the first page. In large bold letters beside the pictures spelled out TESSERACT. We slowly walked to a nearby bench and sat down.

“That's HYDRA’s secret weapon. I thought it fell into the ocean that day,” I whispered.

“Howard fished it out of the water when they went looking for you both. He thought what we think, that this cube could be an unlimited sustainable energy source.” Fury informed us.

“Who took it from you?” Steve questioned.

“He’s called Loki, he’s not from around here. We have a lot we're gonna need to catch you both up on if you agree to help. This world has gotten stranger than you already know.”

“I doubt anything could surprise us anymore, right Stevie?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Ten bucks says you’re both wrong.” Fury bet. We both got up from our seats and handed the file back. Steve went and grabbed another bag from the floor and I just headed straight for the door.

“There are debriefing packets at your apartments, read through them and get back to me by tomorrow afternoon. And before you leave, is there anything we should know about the tesseract?”

“You should have left it in the ocean.” Steve and I said at once before walking out of the gym. Once we were outside on the sidewalk we hugged and said our goodbyes for the moment and then went our separate ways.

The walk home felt longer than the walk to the gym, but this gave me time to think about what I wanted to do. Whether I wanted to go on this mission, or if I just wanted to lay low and live my life. By the time I walked through my front door I had almost made my decision, but I was waiting to read the file before I decided for good. With a quick look through the minimal information provided I sighed and threw the papers down onto my kitchen counter. Shaking my head I murmured to myself.

“No, I am not doing this. This cube is not worth it.” Rubbing my eyes I went back to my room and crawled under the bed, not caring that I was still in jeans and a t-shirt. I was not going to walk blindly into anything dealing with that cube again. I lost my fiance and everyone I have ever known because of that stupid blue thing, I'm not going to go anywhere near it again. I laid there quietly for a while before I eventually drifted off into a restless sleep.

The next morning I woke up with a start, almost hitting my head on the bed above me. Furious honking made its way from the street into my room. One thing I definitely missed from the past was how quiet it once was at seven a.m.

Along with the decision to not join the mission, I had also made up my mind about leaving New York. This had been a long decision in the making and the talk with Fury last night was enough to make the choice for me. I couldn't live in this city anymore. The places I used to hang out at were still here, but they had been renovated so many times that they were unrecognizable. Everywhere I turned It was like I was walking through a strange alternate reality. I saw glimpses of the past, like ghosts around every corner, it was worse when it was a place Bucky and I frequented.

When I had gotten back from the Retreat I made the mistake of going to mine and Steve’s old apartment. It had been torn down to construct a bookstore, along with several other retail shops. I broke down in the street when I saw it, waves upon waves of emotions crashed into me. All the memories I had there with Steve, mom, and Bucky had no place to live now other than in my mind. The next mistake I made was to go down the next few blocks to Bucky’s apartment he shared with his mom and sister, Rebecca. It was no longer there either, a bakery stood in its place. I turned and left before the onslaught of tears came. After that day I thought it would be best to go somewhere else, somewhere I had no memories.

I crawled out from under the bed and slowly moved to the bathroom to start getting ready for the long day to come. Once I had showered and gotten dressed I sat myself down on the living room sofa, looking wearily at the telephone on the end table. Hesitantly I picked up the receiver and dialed the number that had been in the tesseract briefing file. It rang twice before Nick Fury answered.

“Mr. Fury, I’m calling to tell you that I won’t be joining your team for whatever mission you have going on. I just want to lay low and rebuild my life and live it quietly without interruption.” I let out a long breath.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Was really hoping to have you fight with us. If you change your mind, you know where to contact me. Goodbye Agent Rogers.” He hung up quickly after that, not giving me a chance to tell him goodbye as well. The next call was going to be the hard one, I had to tell Steve my plans. I dialed his number slowly as I raised the receiver to my ear. It didn’t even have time to get through the first ring before Steve picked up.

“Hello?” He asked on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s up kid. Have you called Fury about joining the mission? I called about an hour ago letting them know I’d help.” He sounded a little enthusiastic.

“That’s actually what I’m calling about. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this but I’m not going to help with the mission.”

“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “Why not? I thought you’d want to help get rid of that thing once and for all.”

“It’s not that, I want nothing more than for the tesseract to be gone for good. I just don’t think I can be a part of it, I don’t want this thing to take over my life if we can’t get rid of it. This brings me to another important thing I need to tell you. I can’t stay here in New York, so I’m moving to DC.” He was quiet for a while after I had said that, the only thing I could hear coming from his side was his breath. I grew more anxious by the minute waiting for him to say something.

“What do you mean you’re moving? Why can’t you stay here with me?”

“Don’t be selfish.” I snapped.

“I’m not being selfish, you are.” he raised his voice. I huffed through my nose, getting annoyed.

“I can’t stay here any longer. I have no idea what it is like for you, but for me, being in this city is torture. I see ghosts from the past every time I leave my house. I can’t go anywhere without seeing him, and every time I see him, I break down. I never got to say goodbye and that day plays over and over in my head. Steve, I’m being tormented with nightmares to the point where I have barely gotten five hours of sleep in the past week. I need to get out of here whether you like it or not.” Tears had started to stream down my face as I yelled into the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you, I still can help you if you let me. If you leave I can’t keep you safe, I can’t protect you like I’m supposed to.” He was using his soft “grown-up” voice he always used with me when I was younger to try and calm me down but the tears kept streaming down my cheeks at a rapid pace.

“I can protect myself, we did take the same serum,” I choked out. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to bother you with my problems, I can deal with them myself. Plus you have your own things to deal with, you don’t need to help me with mine.” My head was starting to hurt now and my cheeks and neck itched with quickly drying tears.

“Fine. The only way I will be okay with you leaving is if you promise to call me at least twice a week and you let me help you move.” I gave a strained laugh and nodded, even if he couldn't see it.

“Okay, it’s a deal. I actually already have an apartment lined up, so you can come over and help me pack everything up whenever you want to. I’m going to try and be out of New York by the end of next week.”

“I’ll be right over.” I laughed as I told him that I’d be waiting. I laid the receiver back down in its spot and stood up to go to the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking. I was glad my relationship with Steve could handle an argument, understand one another, then go right back to normal, I don’t think we would be this close if it couldn't. I blinked back a few stubborn tears and bent down to grab a rag from the sink cabinet, I dampened it in warm water then wiped the dried tears from my face. The warm water felt wonderful on my skin.

Over the next week and a half, Steve and I boxed up what few belongings I had and packed them and the furniture into a moving truck. I didn’t own a car so the moving truck would be my transportation to DC. One of the many things SHIELD had us do was take a modern driving test, which wasn’t hard, just a few more signs to remember and more gadgets in the car than there used to be, I ended up passing with flying colors.

By Friday morning we had everything ready to go. Steve would follow me on his motorcycle and I would drive the truck the whole three and a half hours to my new apartment.

We stopped several times on the way down, mainly so Steve didn’t have to sit on the bike for the whole three hours straight. We also stopped for lunch. All in all the trip took us about five hours, with traffic added. We made it to my new home just after two and we started moving my belongings in immediately.

Admittedly the apartment was way too big for just me but I liked the extra space, it was different from the tiny two-bedroom apartment I had grown up in. The first thing I made sure to unpack and put up was the bed. I still hadn't told Steve I wasn’t actually sleeping in the bed, but he didn’t need to know that. After that clothes were sorted through and put in their respective places. With our enhanced strength and stamina, we had the whole place relatively furnished in just under two hours. We stopped for dinner when everything had been brought up from the moving truck.

The day went by fast with us talking and laughing like we used to, it was a good change of pace from my usual aimlessly roaming around my apartment alone. But, all good things have to come to an end and Steve had to leave. He pulled me into a tight hug, almost crushing me, and wouldn’t let go until I pinky promised to call him several times a week. I just laughed and promised him I would. I was sad watching him walk down the hallway to the stairs.

I turned back into my apartment and closed the door, locking it behind me. I stared at the box littering the floor and decided to get to work unpacking the rest of what we hadn’t gotten earlier.

Most of my belongings I found in thrift stores and antique shops around the city. It may have been the twenty-first century now, but that wasn’t stopping me from making my home a comfortable, familiar space. If you walked in from the outside world, you would have thought you had been transported to the past with how much authentic 1940s and before things I had littered about. Some things had been saved from the apartment we lived in in the forties. I learned a few weeks before we came back from the retreat that Peggy had been the one to put everything in storage after they had failed to find Steve and me in the ice. I had gone through all of it and took out what I wanted to take with me and Steve had done the same. I was thankful Peggy had done what she did, otherwise, everything would have been lost to time.

That night as I tried to sleep, I realized it was a little easier to relax. DC was a whole lot quieter than New York, there was no honking or yelling every two seconds to keep me awake. I was left alone in almost complete silence, which for others may be worse than being bombarded with noise, but I didn’t mind. I fell asleep almost an hour after laying down for the night and had a restless sleep. I woke up many times in the night covered in sweat, but I couldn't remember the dreams, anything I could remember dissipated as soon as I opened my eyes.

I woke up again very early the next morning, the clock on my wall said it was four forty-five. It was still dark out, but I could hear birds starting to chirp. I crawled out from under the bed frame and went to put on some exercise clothes. Running always helped to clear my mind after not being able to get any sort of rest. The run itself didn’t take long, even though it was seven miles, any normal person would be exhausted but I had barely broken a sweat. I did get to see some nice places, taking a route around the zoo, to the National Cathedral, and then back around to the Dupont Circle neighborhood, where my apartment was. The sun was just starting to come up as I made my way back into my building.

Although I had just moved in the day before, I was ready to start finding some sort of job. The money SHIELD was giving me to help assimilate back into the world comfortably was appreciated, but I wanted to make my own way in life without their help. Finding a job was going to be harder than it used to be, but I did have expertise in several areas. Upon being unfrozen, along with the driving tests, SHIELD created a new resume for me. I had degrees in history pertaining to the 1940s, World War II, and several of the New Deal programs, with a specialty in the SSR. I was also given a Veteran ID, although I don’t really know how that one works because I definitely was not a part of the apparent ongoing fighting in Afghanistan. I still looked twenty-four, I doubt anyone would believe it.

Anyway, I had interviews lined up for today at the Smithsonian, and hopefully, the resume that SHIELD created and my knowledge would be enough to land a job. I had already figured that I would be volunteering at the local VFW. I knew I could find people there to relate to and hopefully be able to make some friends.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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fandom-imagination-ss · 3 years

Text

Imagine: having a encounter with your best friend Clark Kent one night.

Author note: I couldn’t help myself I had too write a Clark Kent imagine, the Superman and Lois version Not Henry Carvills version. This imagine has mention of being shirtless. No Smut.!! If you haven’t watched the CW show Superman and Lois. Go do it! It’s great and I’m obsessed with the show and Tyler lol

Charters: Clark Kent, Lois lane , Jordan Kent, and Jon Kent

Warnings: Shirtless scene But not descriptive

Fandom ; Superman and Lois

You known Clark Since basically birth. You been friends since Kindergarten, He was the first boy you ever Kissed, the First boy you ever confessed your feelings too, which Clark happily accepted and it was wonderful relationship for two weeks. Your family’s were very surprised you both lasted that long.. you were eight at the time. Then at Sixteen Clark confessed too his best friend that he was a Alien. Your first thoughts were if he could read your mind. And he said he couldn’t which was a load off your mind because your crush on the boy returned and it was stronger then ever. But then he said he could shoot rays out of his eyes and your thoughts went from your crush too random questions about THAT!

As the years went on your crush on Clark vanished when he met and fell madly in love with Lois Lane. You were the best gal at his wedding. You were the god mother too his twins. You instantly became friends with Lois. the motto in your life if. clark was happy you were happy. after seeing him with Lois. it was clear that boy was in love.

Knowing he was superman and knowing that Lois abused her powers of being with him. Using it too jump start her career was slightly hard too adjust too but Clark didn’t seem too mind so you kept your opinion about that too yourself.

You didn’t move out of Smallville you loved it. You loved waking up and knowing everyone the town felt safe. Then Clarks mom died and the Kent family moved back home. You loved visiting with your God sons especially when Jordan started developing his powers. But you noticed the stein in the relationship between Clark and Lois. The boys noticed also. Jon asked for advice about what too do or how he could help and you suggested too watch the boys for the weekend and Let your best friend have a romantic getaway with his bride…. When they returned they announced they were getting divorced. It shocked Everyone Lois instantly moved back too the the city. Jon naturally went so he could return too his friends and back on track too the football team. Jordan didn’t want too leave he was Happy in Smallville it probably Also had too do with the crush he had on a girl here. Clark was struggling you spent nights helping him drinking and wishing he could get drunk but He can’t. Knowing that drinking wouldn’t solve his problems you wished him some relief but. Downside too being a Alien. He can’t get drunk.

A few months passed you were over at the Kent farm drinking on the front porch Clark invited you over too have dinner since Jordan was In the city with his mom and Jon was also. It was a Rare night the house was quite. Clark was staring out at The field as you tossed your popcorn you were snacking on at him. One kernel and nothing. He didn’t flinched. He didn’t look over until the fifth kernel hit him. Right on the cheek that he turned too look at you.

He had a small smile on his face as you smiled back, ‘what you thinking there superman?’

He chuckled taking a long sip of his beer looking off, “why we break up?”

Chuckling you took a sip of your drink rolling your shoulder, the warm air made for a perfect night outside. Clark was relaxed. “The relationship we had when we were eight?”

He nodded his head, “yea. Ive been thinking about it. Lately I don’t remember why we broke up”

The only thing you could do was laugh a putting your drink down getting comfy on the chair. This wasn’t the conversation you expected too be having with Clark tonight. You were Hoping too maybe talk about convincing him too fix your boiler this weekend. Not about your Childhood relationship.

‘we were Eight.. I think- we broke up because you wanted me too move into your house and I wanted you too move into mine and we couldn’t decided.” He laughed loudly at that as you shook your head ‘why you thinking about that?”

“you never married.”

Staring at him you chuckled, “i’ve been close! Twice!” Clark shifted looking at you, ‘you were far too good for them but seriously you haven’t been out on a date since I returned home. No one special?”

“your talking like my mom Clark. Next you’ll be asking me when I will be giving you a godchild.’ He chuckled as he spoke, “I’m serious those. How is it possible? Your beautiful, brilliant unbelievably kind. How are you still single? I use too have too pull guys off you in school.”

“Oh please! No one wanted me in school.” Clark smiled as you looked at him.

“Why you so curious about my love life?”

“honestly I don’t know. I just.. kept thinking about it.”

Smiling weakly as you reached over poking him. “Aww is Clarkie getting a crush on me?”

He reached up catching your hand as he caught sight of you “what?. What if I do?”

‘Me?’

He looked at you confused at you. You shifted up too your feet as you paced “I mean.. I’m me.. Clark I’m boring. I’m So boring and ordinary.. I’m- I’m Me!”

Shifting too his feet. Clark grabbed your shoulders stopping your pacing as he spoke, ��extraordinary, beautiful, amazing, stunning, I- can you stop me? I’m blabbering.”

Covering your mouth you looked. At Clark as you spoke, “Do I have too?”

Clark stared at you for a second before moving your hand and pulled you closer as he grasped your face and kissed you deeply. Your stomach had a knot in it. As it tighten as you felt your hand instantly grasp his head cuddling his closer too you. You only pushed back too breath as he pressed his forehead too yours as you breathed deeply as you spoke, “Holly Toast Clark.” You both broke into a soft laugh as you kissed him back.

Feeling him grip onto you as he lifted you up as your legs wrapped around his torso as he turned and pressed you against the side of the house as he held you respectfully on your sides. His hand held onto your hips. Your body felt like it was on fire. He reached up tracing his hand over your collarbone softly as he pulled back looking at you, “should we stop?’

Your head was foggy as you pressed your head against the side of the wall looking at him. You reached up touching his shoulders softly, “No.” he didn’t hesitate too kiss you again.

You didn’t realize you were sitting down in the kitchen until Clark pulled back too lift his shirt off. He went too kiss again but you reached your hand up too marvel at his chiseled pecks. “God Clark is it a alien thing too give you god like looks?” He chuckled at your comment telling you too shut up . You laughed as he kissed you again.

Your shirt was yanked off. Ripping as you gasped as he said sorry till he heard a engine he recognized the sound it was Lois’s Car he cursed out before grabbing you and your torn shirt and grabbed his shirt and you were in his bedroom.

You were stunned till you heard the front door open.

“Hey DAD!”

Hearing Jordan your eyes grew large quickly putting your shirt back on. Too only see it was ripped. You gasped quickly grabbing a plaid shirt as you went too talk until Clark Reached up covering your mouth singling too stay quite. He pointed too his ears as you remembered.. Jordan has super hearing. Which made you more terrified that he would Hear you! Clark walked out calling out too Jordan “Jordan? Hey. What you doing home/“

You looked around stunned NOW what? You have sneaked out of this house Hundreds of times But when you were sneaking out you were mainly just trying too hide from Clarks parents. He’s human parents who didn’t have super hearing Or any super abilities. Not Clarks teenage son!

“Hey Is Auntie Y/N here?” Hearing Jordan you fixed the shirt as you found Clarks coffee cup from this morning as you quietly spilt it over your torn shirt as you put it on under the plaid shirt as you walked downstairs as you spoke, “Hey Jor.”

They both looked at you stunned as you spoke up, “Jor life lesson! NEVER drink liquor- can you get drunk?” You stopped your statement with the realization Jordan may Never experience a hang over ever. Clark said he probably couldn’t as you groaned, “Damn I’m so jealous.”

“wait what?!" Jor stated as Clark coughed tol stop this conversation but you added.

“Oh. Now you got no excuses for stupid experiences in life.” Jordan chuckled as Clark said he was trying too limit those stupid experiences. You laughed ignoring the fact that your best friend just had you sitting on the counter that Jordan was leaning against now.

“what you doing in Dad’s shirt?”

Lois walked in with Jon as you spoke, “I spilt coffee all over my shirt and your dad let me borrow a shirt.”

“pretty late for a coffee” Lois stated as you rolled your shoulders, “It is Never too late for a ice coffee plus what is sleep?” She chuckled weakly as Clark asked what happened too cause everyone home as Jon spoke up, “Mom has a assignment in Spain.”

“Oh lucky!” You gasped as Lois shook her head, “Not really- Sorry clark for –“ “no it’s alright I’m. happy too hang with the boys this weekend.”

“Hey Aunt Y/N you want too watch wolf man?”

You gasped as you touched your heart, “your Movie tastes are Perfection! I taught you well grass hopper.” Jon chuckled as Jordan said he would make the popcorn as I spoke, “I probably need too sober up a bit before I drive home. You. Mind?” Asking Clark like he had a choice.

He shook his head saying it was fine. As Lois spoke, “rough night?” Turning too her you rolled your shoulders, “just had too many.. I forget clark can’t get drunk. I was keeping up with him.” She chuckled as Clark spoke, “why did’ you call?”

“I didn’t think you would mind.”

You slipped passed as they talked as you got into the living room sitting with the boys as they started the movie.

sitting on the sofa your mind burst with what Just happened!! you just made out with your Best friend!! What the heck!!

#fandom imagine #imagine #fandom #superman and lois imagine #superman and lois #superman imagine #superman #dc comics imagine #dc comics

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hearteyesbowen · 4 years

Text

helping hand ☆ joshua bassett

requested by: @differentplaidpalacehorse tysm for ur submission !!

when y/n gets into a little accident, all she wants and is her best friend to take care of her

warnings: fluff

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Why did you think it was a good idea to go ice skating if you have never skated in your life?”

Although you couldn’t see your mom through the pillow you smothered on your face, you knew the smirk she had across her lips, and the way she would be leaning against your doorframe trying not to laugh at your injury.

“My friends invited me and I thought it would be fun.” You answer embarrassingly.

A small giggle left her mouth, making you groan into your pillow. Her footsteps grew louder as you sensed she was walking towards your tired body lying down. The once dark vision you had from your eyes being covered now burned, as your vision was now bright from the sunshine shining right onto you through your window. She took the pillow and carefully lifted your right leg, trying to minimize the discomfort you felt as your tightly bandaged ankle now rested on the cushion.

“You’re lucky it’s a small sprain, or else I would be making fun of you more.”

“You know, I appreciate your help, but I don’t appreciate the insults I’m getting right now.”

Your mom’s laughter grew at your comment. “I know, just trying to lift the mood. I’ll get you a new ice pack.”

She leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you whispered a small ‘thank you.’ Before she left your room, she made a small gasp and turned around to look at you and smile.

“By the way, Josh is on his way here. I told his mother what happened and he insisted on coming over.”

And with that, she left you to be alone in your room to soak in all the pain in your ankle. Of course, it didn’t take long before you heard familiar footsteps coming up the staircase leading to your room, but what surprised you was that it wasn’t your mom bringing the promised ice pack, but your best friend, Josh.

“Hey, Y/N!” He greeted excitedly.

In his arms, he held numerous items you assumed were for you. From what you could tell, he held a bag of your favorite candy, two water bottles, a small bottle of advil, and an ice pack.

“Hi, Joshy. I didn’t expect you to be here so quickly.”

You watched as he pulled the chair from your desk right beside your bed and gently placed all the goodies he had on your bedside table. He sat down on the chair and helped you sit up and lean back against your headboard, and gave you the ice to put on your leg.

“When I heard that my best friend was being an idiot and broke her ankle, of course I get here as quickly as possible.”

You lightly punched his arm, making him laugh. “I didn’t break my ankle, I sprained it. And I’m not an idiot.”

“Then why did you decided to go ice skating when you have never skated before in your life?”

“Ok, I get it!” You annoyingly huff, leaning your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.

His laughter erupted in your ears, making you feel more calm. “Sorry, it’s just funny.”

You turn to look at him and notice his smile, making your frown disappear instantly. His eyes widened as he grabbed the candy and water from your table.

“I bought you some candy to make you feel better, and some water to take with the advil your mom told me to bring you.”

You grabbed his hand from his lap, squeezing it in your own, not noticing his now red face. “Thank you, Joshy.”

He winked at you before asking, “How did you even sprain it?”

You sigh, “Well, my friends wanted to go out and ice skate, and when I told them that I didn’t know how to, they offered to help me. They held my hand for a while and I somewhat got the hang of it, and when they let go of my hand, I immediately slipped and twisted my ankle, so we went home.”

“Well at least they were nice enough to take care of you until they dropped you off here. And you’re lucky to have the most amazing best friend in the world that I am now your servant for the rest of the day.” He announced proudly.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark. You eyed the orange hoodie he was wearing, making your smile grow wider. He noticed your face, shaking his head and laughing as he pulled at the collar and bringing the piece of clothing over his head, throwing it at your face once it was off.

“Thank you, sir.” You grin as you slip on his hoodie, immediately smelling the familiar cologne he always wore.

“Anything else for my lady?”

You turned to look at your bed, noticing the empty space. You opened your arms, “Cuddle?”

His eyes widened slightly, his cheeks blushing harder than before. He messed with his hair lightly before standing up and climbed over you to the empty side of your bed while you lied down.

While climbing over you, his foot kicked at your iced ankle, making you squirm at the instant pain you felt. He felt it immediately, checking your ankle as you bit your lip to try and not scream.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s ok, I’m ok.” You groan, “Just cuddle me, please.”

He lied down next to you, moving his arm under your neck for you to use as a cushion, and opening his other arm to wrap around your shoulder. You snuggled into his chest, holding his waist tightly. The absolute comfort you felt was indescribable, as this was the nicest feeling you’ve had since you left the house this morning to go with your friends.

Josh was always a gentleman, not just to you but to everyone he meets. You admired the way he could be so caring and respectful to everyone, no matter what their attitude towards him is. Anytime he was with you, you felt so carefree and happy. That’s just the kind of light that Josh brings to every room he entered.

Even after the three years of friendship you had with him, nothing ever changed between you. It was always you two against the world, and nothing could ever change that. Not even the playful teasing both your parents make about you two being a couple or liking each other, which you never saw. You were sure that you would always be just friends, even if everyone else in the world told you otherwise.

“You really didn’t have to come over and take care of me.” You mumble into his chest.

“I wanted to, you know I would choose to hang out with you in a heartbeat.”

You smiled against his body, nuzzling your head further into him and squeezing his waist tighter against you. He did the same to you, his arms tightening around your shoulders.

Josh looked down at you, smiling to himself like an idiot as he couldn’t help but get goosebumps at how close you were. He could see your eyes slowly flutter shut, and lightly chuckle to himself as he saw you try to stay awake. Soon, you heard his soothing voice sing into your ear. You couldn’t tell what he was singing at this point, just that it sounded like an angel. Within seconds, you fell asleep in the safety and warmth of his arms.

➢➣ ➢➣

You jolt awake, only seeing the black shirt that Josh was wearing. You look up and see he’s still asleep, quietly laughing at the soft snores coming from his mouth. As you gently turn your body, hoping not to wake him up, you grab your phone from the table and check the time. It had only been about an hour since you fell asleep, so you put your phone back down and turn around to face him again. His eyes were slowly opening, and you instinctively move the hair covering his forehead.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You joke, watching as he was slowly waking up completely.

“Is it really morning?” He asks, his voice slightly raspy. He rubbed his eyes, stretching his arm out a little before holding your body against his again.

“We only slept for an hour, but we should get up now before we sleep for the rest of the day.”

“What if I want to sleep here for the rest of the day with you?”

You raise your eyebrow at his question. “Why would you want to?”

He sits up slightly, resting on the side of his body. His arms trailed down to your waist, tracing small circles on the small exposed part of your skin from where his hoodie rode up. You felt tingles travel through you, confused by the new sensantion your feeling. Just the way he was looking at you, a smile barely present on his face, made your cheeks burn up.

Maybe you never really focused on his features until now, like the way his eyes would shift to a gold hue when the light from outside your window shined perfectly on him, or how his brown curls perfectly framed his face, or the way his pink tinted lips looked so plump and smooth.

Maybe you never noticed the way he made you feel, like how he would always be the one to pay attention to you when no one would, or how he always stopped everything he was doing just to help you when you hurt yourself.

What you did know was that this new feeling made you a little nervous. You never thought of him as more than a friend, why would that change?

You shifted your gaze away from his, staring at the small designs on his shirt, as you knew that the more you stared at him the way he was at you, your face would be on fire.

“Y/N?” He mumbled.

You held in your breath lightly before looking up at him, but before you could do anything else, you felt your lips being attacked by his own. You were surprised, not because your best friend was kissing you, but because you kissed back. His hand squeezed at your waist as his other hand held your head tenderly, your hands moving from his sides to cup his cheeks. It was nothing like you have ever felt before. He was definitely more experienced than you, the way he was needy to be closer to you. You turned your head to deepen the kiss, hearing him groan quietly.

When he pulled away, you smiled at how his lips matched his red cheeks, and he could say the same thing about you.

“If you couldn’t tell, I really like you. I have for a while now.” He said breathlessly.

“I can’t tell, could you help me figure it out?”

He smiled widely as he crashed his lips against yours roughly. Your lips moved together quickly, feeling desperate to feel each other again. It was more passionate than the first one, if that was even possible. His hands, both now at your waist, pushed you further into the bed as he hovered over you. The movement was quick, and you both forgot that your ankle was still in a lot of pain until Josh’s foot kicked at it again. You pulled away, wincing at the harsh pain that stung your leg.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry Y/N!” He cried as he moved away from you.

You sat up and grabbed the ice that fell off your bed during your heated session with Josh and put as much pressure as you could on the bandages before it grew worse. He sat up beside you, rubbing your back as you tried to calm down from the pain.

“Some servant I am. I’m really, really sorry.” He apologized.

You turned to look at him, holding his cheek in your palm and sent a small smile. “It’s ok, we both got caught up in the moment.”

“I still feel bad.” He mumbled.

“If it helps,” You start, pecking his lips softly, “I really like you too.”

A/N - another late request , so sorry for coming out with it so late ): a few more to go then i can open your my inbox again . but i hope u guys like it , as of right now i feel like shit and writing this made me a little bit happier so i hope it does the same to u guys !! love y’all xx

taglist - @love-joshy @mzzjads @seaveyssparkle @iamveryborrrreddd

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett #joshua bassett oneshot #joshua bassett blurbs #joshua bassett fluff #joshua bassett angst #hsmtmts imagine #hsmtmts

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Note

i really love a joyful future bc its so soft!! but like imagine Jack and Hotch talking about Haley after the twins are born, like having time alone with one of your parents when you have so many siblings is already kind of hard pressed so like imagine idk the anniversary of her funeral or something and they talk about her and go out for ice cream or whatever and then come back and they both are kinda down bc theyre sad but then like seeing everyone cheers them up even a little :( i cant,,,

haley day

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader a joyful future fic

oops i made it a fic and its only a little off topic! please forgive any errors - i wrote this in like two hours yikes

universe: a joyful future words: 2291 warnings: discussion of death

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed! edited: november 27th, 2020

When you woke up, Aaron was already gone. There was a note on his pillow, and you stretched as you reached over for it.

Jack and I are off for our hike at Maryland Heights. We’ll be back sometime in the late morning/ early afternoon. We won’t have service until we’re back down the mountain - don’t be nervous if you don’t hear from us.

We’ll swing by to pick everyone up so we can go visit H all together. I’ll call when we’re an hour out.

I love you.

You held the note to your chest for a moment before slipping it into the manila envelope in your bedside drawer. You kept all of Aaron’s little notes - post-its from work, little things in your go bag, notes from mornings like this. They brought an absurd amount of joy to you, and he kept writing them, so you kept keeping them. You weren’t even sure if he knew you kept them, but you supposed some little fun secrets were good for a marriage every once and a while.

Isaac was already up - your sweet boy, with a bowl of cereal in his lap and cartoons on.

“Good morning, my love,” you said to him as you passed, kissing him on the head.

He wiggled in his seat. “Hi, momma.”

You continued into the kitchen, making yourself a cup of (already brewed) coffee. “How long have you been up?”

“I woke up when Jack and Daddy were getting ready, but I couldn’t fall back to sleep so Daddy put the TV on and put cereal where I could reach it and told me I was only allowed to wake you up if there was a fire or someone got hurt.”

You huffed a laugh at his matter-of-fact tone - imitating Aaron beat for beat. “Is that so?”

He nodded.

You returned with your coffee mug and planted yourself next to Isaac on the couch.

“Momma?” He asked, after a little while.

“Mhmm?” You set your coffee down on the table and tucked your legs up under you, facing him.

“What’s Haley Day?”

You opened your arms to him, and he put his cereal down and curled into you. “Can we talk about Haley Day when Dad and Jack get home?”

He nodded and you pressed a kiss into his dark hair.

+++

The boys leisurely hiked the path in relative silence, enjoying both each other’s company and the scenery.

“How are you, Dad?” Jack asked, after a while.

“I’m good, bud.” He thought about it for a moment and laughed lightly to himself. “I’m really good, actually.”

A small smile crossed Jack’s face. “That’s good.”

“What are you thinking about over there?” Aaron said, noting the pensive expression on his son’s face. It was odd - it was a little like looking in the mirror, but Jack would pull these faces that were so Haley. It had startled Aaron more than once.

“Who says I’m thinking about anything?”

“I can hear you thinking.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ profiler.”

“Excuse me?” Aaron laughed. He was a stickler for language around the little ones, but he knew Jack swore like a sailor when he was out of the house.

“I said, fuckin’ profiler.” Jack tutted. “Looks like your hearing is failing you in your advanced age, old man.”

Aaron pointed at him, eyebrows raised. “Watch it.”

After a moment, they both broke, laughing out loud. They quieted after a minute, walking a little closer together.

“I’m just thinking about mom - Haley,” he clarified. “It kind of hit me this morning how…much that all was.” He looked at Aaron, brown eyes curious. “Are you okay, Dad?”

One side of Aaron’s mouth pulled up. “I’m alright. It was really hard for a while, but it gets easier to carry. I know you don’t remember, but you’re old enough now to know that the year before Haley died was...not great. That’s what I had the hardest time handling.”

“The divorce, right?” Jack’s head dropped as he looked at his feet, still marching confidently up the rock-lined path. Aaron was suddenly grateful, deeply so, for the gift of his son.

“Yeah. Certainly not a shining moment for either one of us, but I think she made the right choice. She was stronger than me by a long shot, and always managed to do what had to be done.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and Aaron knew he could take what came next.

“When she was killed, I had to grapple with the idea that she died angry at me.” Aaron looked up, letting the dappled light from the trees strike his face.

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack kept his eyes up, trained on the path, as he spoke. “I think that’s an easy way to feel guilty, but she didn’t die mad at you, Dad. Aunt Emily told me how brave you were, how you talked to her until you couldn’t anymore.”

Aaron opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

“Don’t be upset with Em. I asked and she told. Not her fault.” Jack pulled a mouthful of water from his pack before he continued. “I think she wanted you to know how much she loved you, you know? Like, Emily told me she reminded you to not be so serious all the time and to tell me stories about how much fun you guys had when you were young and cool.” He shot a smirk over to Aaron, who rolled his eyes with a smile. Jack squinted into the middle distance. “Were you mad at her that day?”

“No,” Aaron answered quickly. “Not at all.”

“What were you, then?”

“Scared.”

“Her too, probably.” Jack’s tone was simple, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to understand. Maybe it was. “You made her feel less scared and you kept calm, even when you were probably more scared than you’ve ever been in your whole life. I only remember her a little, but I think she’d love you for that, don’t you?”

Aaron was quiet for a moment, just looking at Jack as they walked. “When did you get so smart, kid?”

Jack shrugged. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Yep. He’s my son.

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth as he retorted, “You’re right, I didn’t.”

Jack crossed the path to bump his father’s shoulder. They were almost the same height, and Aaron imagined Jack would pass him up by the end of the year. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Jack.” He reached up to ruffle Jack’s hair, but he ducked away just in time.

“C’mon, man.”

Aaron scoffed. “You are your mother’s son - that much is certain.”

“Which one?” Jack asked with a grin.

After a moment of thought, Aaron huffed another laugh and said, “Unfortunately, both.”

Jack’s grin softened. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“I do. But guess what?”

His brow furrowed.

“You remind me of her so much sometimes it’s like she’s right here with us, you know that?”

This time, Jack let his father muss the hair on top of his head. “Really?”

Aaron nodded. “All the time.” Then again, under his breath. “All the time.”

+++

Aaron called you around noon on the way back from Harper’s Ferry. “We’ll be home in about 45 minutes - traffic isn’t bad at all and we’re just now at the state line.”

“Sounds good, honey. I’ll start the ball rolling with the girls.”

You could hear a pair of chuckles on the other end of the line and perhaps a muttered “Good luck with that shit.”

Language, Jack Hotchner.

Chewing on your lower lip, you added, “Also, Isaac asked. I think it’s time - for him, at least.”

“Alright. We’ll go sit on the porch when I get home. Jack, are you good helping the girls get ready?”

“For sure,” Jack’s assent sounded a little distant, but it made you smile.

+++

You and Aaron settled on the porch swing with Isaac on your lap. Aaron held out his hands palm-up, and Isaac rested his little fingers on Aaron’s.

Aaron closed his hands around Isaac’s, holding his attention. It was something you two had established early on with the kids: when Dad holds both of your hands, look at him and listen.

“Mom told me you asked about Haley Day today.”

Isaac nodded.

“Before I tell you what Haley Day means, I want to remind you that Mom and I love all four of you exactly the same, okay?”

Isaac nodded.

“Alright, bud.” Aaron took a deep breath, and you smiled at him over Isaac’s head. “You know how you and Sophia and Caroline came out of Momma’s tummy?”

Little brown eyes looked back at you and you nodded encouragingly.

“Yes.”

“You know how Mom and I are married and wear these rings and live together?”

He nodded.

“And of course you know Aunt Jessica, right?”

A smile broke out across Isaac’s face as he nodded again.

“Before I was married to your mom, I was married to Haley. Haley is Aunt Jessica’s sister, and Jack came out of Haley’s tummy before your mom and I met.”

There was a little bit of confusion splashed across Isaac’s face. “So Momma isn’t Jack’s momma?”

You put your hands on his shoulders, and he looked up at you. “Not everyone is like you and me, bud. You came out of my tummy and I’m also your mom, but some people’s moms aren’t the same person they came out of. Does that make sense?” You were going to continue, but you closed your mouth.

We aren’t going to start the “not everyone has a mom” conversation today. Baby steps.

“So you’re still Jack’s mom, too?”

“Yes, sir,” you said with a smile. “But at the same time, Haley is also Jack’s mom. So he kind of has two moms, which is also a normal thing for some families. I’m what’s technically called a step-mom.”

He nodded sagely and said, “Some of my friends at school have step-moms,” but then his face fell into almost comical confusion. “Where did Haley go?”

You gestured to Aaron and Isaac whirled around. Aaron’s eyes flickered back to yours, and you returned his gaze with soft eyes.

Aaron took another breath before speaking again. “Haley died when Jack was four - just a little younger than you are now - and so it’s really important for Jack and me to have Haley Day so we can remember her and spend time together. Today is her forty-ninth birthday, and sometimes birthdays of people who died are really hard.” He swallowed, and his eyes misted over. He looked up at you.

It’s okay. Don’t hide from your son. It’s okay.

He blinked rapidly, and a few tears fell. Tears pricked at your eyes as well as Isaac scrambled off your lap and into Aaron’s.

“Mom said that people who have died can’t come back and you can’t see them anymore. Is that true?” He asked.

Aaron wrapped one arm around Isaac and placed his other hand on your knee. You grabbed it right away, holding him tight. “Yeah, bud. Mom’s right.”

“Do you miss her? Sometimes I miss my friends who moved and I can’t see them anymore.”

Aaron laughed and squeezed Isaac tight to his chest. “I do miss her. It’s a lot like when your friends move away. She was one of my best friends.”

“Is Mom one of your best friends?”

You brushed tears off your cheeks with your fingers and grinned at Aaron.

“Yes. Your mom is one of my best friends,” he said with a smile that matched yours. “And Mom knew Haley, too and they were friends. There are a lot of pictures of Haley and Jack and me and Mom on the bookshelf in the living room, but they’re a little high up for you to see them. I can show them to you later, if you want.”

There was quiet for a moment, as you both let Isaac process the concept of life and death and parenthood in his little four-year-old brain.

That’s a lot all at once.

“Do we get to do anything special for Haley Day?”

Aaron looked down at him, “Yes, sir. We’re going to go visit the place where she’s buried and then go out for ice cream. How does that sound?”

“Really good.”

“Really good, alright!” Aaron rose with renewed vigor, and Isaac clung to his neck as he readjusted his grip. “Can you go get some shoes on and we can go?” Isaac nodded and Aaron set him down with a pat on his shoulder.

You tucked yourself under Aaron’s arm as Isaac ran back into the house. Through the window, you could see Jack swinging Sophia up over his head as a reward for getting her shoes on. Caroline was attached to his pant leg, begging to go next.

“That went alright.”

He nodded. “Yeah, it did.” He kissed the side of your head and inhaled. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him. “For what?”

With his hand, he gestured vaguely to everything around you. “Being here, I guess?” He laughed lightly through his nose. “Just - thank you. I know it’s not always easy.”

You placed your left hand on his chest and rested your head against him as you spoke. “I know you worry, but I have never once felt like second-best or a replacement. Not even a little.”

“I do worry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t, please.” You patted his chest twice, a break. “Now, I believe we promised at least one of our children ice cream and I would hate to have a mutiny on our hands. We’re outnumbered two to one and I don’t need Reid to tell me those aren’t great odds.”

He laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “There’s no better partner to fend off hangry toddlers than you, darling.”

+++

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

Snowed In

Author: @endlessnightlock

Prompt: Christmas eve and Katniss and Peeta get snowed in. it’s a little tense at first. but realize we should make the best outta it. telling stories. Ect. [submitted by @katnissandpeeta125]

Rating: G, although there is one mild swear if that bothers you.

Author’s Note: 1832 words.

_____________

Katniss let out a loud sigh before she could stop herself. She knew the sound was rude, but the discomfort in the room was thick like pea soup already, and she’d never been good at hiding her feelings in the first place.

From her chosen corner of the living room, she surveyed her houseguest. Peeta grimaced as he adjusted his leg, propped up on her coffee table with a magazine underneath his foot to protect the surface. Over the top of his curly blonde head and out through her living room window, near white-out conditions left nothing but a blur of snow to be seen. She couldn’t even make out the streetlamp on the corner.

Of course, she had to get snowed in at her tiny apartment on Christmas Eve with Peeta Mellark of all people.

Just a few short years ago, Katniss would’ve thanked her lucky stars for the opportunity to be alone with him. Her teenage crush on him had been long and miserable and left her feeling frustrated for most of her time at Coriolanus F. Snow Senior High. He would send fleeting glances her way in the hall or class. But did he ever try something crazy like actually speaking to her? No, he did not.

But time takes away all those unrequited feelings, Katniss reasoned with herself. That lingering nervous feeling knowing Peeta was only ten feet away from her? Pure muscle memory.

Those butterflies in her stomach meant nothing.

“Do you need my help?” she asked when he wouldn’t stop grunting, bent over at the waist and trying to reach his boot the way he was.

“Maybe,” Peeta admitted, glancing at her and then back down at his foot. “I can’t quite reach- I can’t get my knee to move at all.”

Katniss pushed off the wall, making her way towards him to help.

She supposed it was sort of her fault Peeta slipped on the ice in her apartment complex parking lot; the least she could do was help him get his boots off. Yelling at him the minute he stepped out of his car for coming out in this crazy weather might not have been her best idea.

She’d startled Peeta- he lost his balance and fell, twisting his knee so badly he couldn’t put pressure on it. Somehow she got him to his feet, although they barely made it inside the building without collapsing together. What a mess that would’ve been.

Why did he still make the trip to her apartment tonight in what was practically a blizzard? How was she supposed to know he hadn’t seen her approach?

Speaking of which, ways to get back at Gale for putting her in this awkward situation in the first place kept running through her mind. He knew the weather would be crap today, yet still refused to cancel their plans to drive back to Panem together. Furthermore, Gale understood how uncomfortable Katniss would be spending that four-hour car ride with Peeta, knowing full well how she felt about him in high school.

That rat bastard.

Gale, not Peeta, that was.

Katniss bent over Peeta’s feet, avoiding his eyes as she untied his bootlaces, carefully so she wouldn’t unnecessarily jostle his knee. It was strange to be this close to him, even more than when she’d helped him get inside her apartment; they’d both had thick coats on, and that had acted as a decent barrier. They weren’t even touching, just her hands on his leather boot, but the contact still made her feel like running out the door to get away from him.

But where would she go if she gave in to that urge to flee?

Straight into a snowbank once she got more than an inch past the driveway, that’s where. The weather wasn’t helping either- that endless wall of white outside the window made her feel trapped; restless with that apprehension Peeta stirred in her just being in the same room.

“Thank you,” he said as she pulled the heel of his boot back, easing it the rest of the way off.

She glanced at him, and their eyes connected in that funny way they always did in class, but this time he didn’t look away.

Katniss broke eye contact first, setting his boot on the floor beside him. “It’s the least I can do after earlier- I hope you aren’t hurt too bad.”

“I’ll be alright; I think it’s just a strain; the joint gets stiff in this weather. I have arthritis in my knee already,” Peeta said, settling back against her couch as she stepped away from his side.

Of course, she remembered when he had knee surgery after getting injured during wrestling her junior year.

“Can I get you something?” Katniss asked. “I could make us some tea. I don’t have much in the way of food since I was going to Mom’s.”

Prim would be disappointed that she wouldn’t be home tonight- she and Peeta were probably stuck here all day tomorrow as well. As strange as it might be, she realized she’d rather have someone here for Christmas than have to spend it alone, even if it was Peeta.

“There’s stuff in the trunk of my car- puff pastry rolls and spinach dip. Probably shouldn’t have taken my shoes off yet,” Peeta added, leaning forward like he was going to try and get up.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Stay put; I’ll get it. Hand over your keys.” Katniss scolded him.

“I could go!” he said. “It’s just a sprain or something.”

“And where would I be if you fell again and hurt yourself worse? I don’t think so,” she tapped the inside of her hand. “Now, please.”

Katniss waited to see if he would argue, but Peeta just good-naturedly laughed as he dug into the pocket of his jeans. “I know better than to argue,” he said, handing over the keys.

“Good boy,” she said.

“I try to be.”

“This was a good idea,” Katniss said an hour or so later, stuffing another dip-laden cracker in her mouth.

“I’m full of good ideas,” Peeta said, putting another piece of the Star Wars puzzle in place.

The puzzle was supposed to have been a gift for his nephew. Once the power went out and her wifi with it, Peeta pulled it from the bottom of the bag she’d brought in that was holding the food, insisting they unwrap the box and work on it.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a puzzler,” she teased, subconsciously scooting closer to him. Somewhere around polishing off the last of the pastry rolls, Katniss relaxed, remembering why it was she’d liked Peeta so much in the first place. His presence was calming, his laugh cozy and self-deprecating. Katniss always had been a sucker for a guy who could make her laugh.

“Used to do them with my grandma. When we were too little to go to the bakery with Mom and Dad, Grandma watched my brothers and me at her house. While my brothers were off dicking around somewhere, I was right by her side. We’d sit on the porch and play stuff like dominos or parcheesi. Sometimes we’d put a puzzle together,” Peeta admitted, staring down at the piece of a picture of a Wookiee in his hand. “I didn’t feel like I got a lot of attention at home, but my grandma always did.”

Katniss put her hand on his arm- he seemed a little melancholy at the admission. “She sounds nice.”

“She was. I loved her a lot.”

“It’s getting cold in here, isn’t it?” Katniss asked as Peeta stifled a yawn.

It’d been completely dark for hours now, and the power still wasn’t on. The completed puzzle lay on the coffee table, ready to go back in the box in the morning.

When the living room temperature began to dip towards being downright cold, Katniss layered up in extra socks, thermals, sweatpants, and a sweatshirt. Peeta didn’t have anything other than his coat to wear because he wouldn’t let her make another trip to his car. The wind had picked up even more- howling so loudly now it sounded like a roar.

Peeta was under a blanket, but he still looked cold to her.

“Want to snuggle?” Katniss asked, jokingly- or at least that’s how she told herself it was supposed to sound. Peeta, however, didn’t seem to grasp that.

“Absolutely,” he said eagerly, lifting a corner of the blanket and gesturing for her to slide underneath it next to him.

“Um-”

“What are you waiting for? Get in here already. I won’t bite.” Peeta said, grabbing her hand. “We have to conserve body heat- you can’t wake up frozen to death on Christmas.”

“Okay, it’s maybe fifty-eight in here. I don’t think we’re going to freeze to death.”

“You never know- better to be safe than sorry.”

Katniss sighed but acquiesced, inching close enough to Peeta that the tops of their thighs brushed. He took the edges of the blanket and tucked them in around the two of them, under her knees and elbows and shoulders. “Isn’t that better?” He asked.

“You remind me of my dad,” she told Peeta as he leaned back against the couch, “He would tuck Prim and me in bed just the same way on Christmas Eve. He said we had to be snug as two bugs in a rug or Santa wouldn’t come.”

“Did you ever try to escape?” Peeta asked.

“No,” Katniss said, shifting a little closer to him because his body heat was starting to warm her up. “I never questioned him- never really had a chance to. My mom got the brunt of that stage.”

“I bet you still miss him,” he said softly.

“I do,” she admitted, mildly surprised that he remembered her dad had died ten years ago. “All the time, but especially at Christmas.”

They fell silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Something had shifted over the last few hours. Peeta took her hand in a comforting gesture, and she didn’t pull away.

“Why wouldn’t you talk to me in high school?” Katniss asked, laying her head on his shoulder a while later. She’d gone from drowsy to downright tired and was fighting to keep her eyes open now. ”We could’ve been friends.”

”I ask myself that all the time,” Peeta admitted. He sounded barely awake himself. ”I was too intimidated by you.”

She laughed under her breath. ”But you’re going to talk to me now, right? You can’t ignore me after this harrowing experience.”

”Yeah, that would be just plain rude.”

”Exactly, so you’d better call me sometimes.”

”I will,” Peeta said softly. “I hope the power’s back on in the morning.”

“Me too.” she agreed, “but I’m warm enough for now.”

“Good,” Peeta said, repeating her response from earlier in a tone that made her laugh sleepily. “Me too.”

“Good night,” Katniss said. “Happy early Christmas.”

“It already is,” he replied, squeezing her hand.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter #winter 2020 #endlessnightlock #submission #prompt

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

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Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 9

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None (just that I nearly cried writing this, so yeah...)

Wordcount: 4.6k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s Sunday, November 12th and that means exactly seven years have passed since Vanessa was born. Seven whole years have flown by and I can’t believe my little girl is already seven. I crouch down in front of the picture that stands on the coffee table and I see every single day, but today it has such a different meaning and it nearly makes me want to cry.

Vanessa just turned one on this picture and we are eating the icing of the cake. She only fell face first into the cake and her face is smudged with icing and I’m dying of laughter in the picture.

‘So, all the presents are on the table,’ Henry says. ‘Do you want me to start on the pancakes?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ I say, though I barely registered what he said and with the picture in my hand, I stand up as I stare at the picture.

Henry’s arms snake around my waist and he gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘Are you okay?’

I shrug. ‘It’s just hard to believe that she turns seven already,’ I admit. ‘It seemed like yesterday that I found out I was pregnant with her, that she was born and scared the living shit out of me multiple times, making me completely doubt my parental skills. She shoved a bead up her nose, she fell out of her high chair and had a small concussion and even broke her leg when she fell down the stairs. Besides those accidents, she somehow still grew up to be the girl she is today.’

Henry chuckles. ‘That’s what little girls do, love. They grow up.’

I nod. ‘I know, I know and I want her to grow up, but… I feel like I’m not enjoying each moment enough and I blink with my eyes and she’ll turn sixteen.’

‘I know you are enjoying each moment enough.’

Since Vanessa came home from that sleepover, she really likes it when Henry sleeps over, so we can all cram up in my bed. Kal’s blanket has moved from the couch with us to my bedroom, so he can be there with us too. Sometimes Vanessa secretly ushers him on the bed, when she thinks Henry and I are already asleep. When we wake up the next morning, Henry tells me that we should buy a bigger bed.

Every single time.

‘Shall I start with the pancakes, love?’ Henry asks.

‘Yes, thank you.’

He nods, burying his face in the crook of my neck and pressing tons of kisses there. ‘I love you and I’m happy that we can spend this day together.’

‘Of course,’ I say, as we walk to the kitchen. ‘Why wouldn’t we want to spend it with you, honey?’

‘Well, for six years it has just been the two of you,’ he says, as he grabs the bowl filled with the batter that he already preparedy. He stirs a few times, before he adds: ‘And now I can be part of that too. I mean, we’re going to my parents in the afternoon to celebrate her birthday. It’s still surreal that you want me here, to be honest.’

I can’t help but chuckle and wrap my arms around his hips. ‘Henry, you are part of our little family now,’ I whisper. ‘Get yourself ready, because we are going to spend Christmas together, New Years Eve and all the other good stuff.’

He bites his lip and says: ‘Thank you, Olivia.’

I let him bake the pancakes, but I can’t help but be curious. ‘You really want us to meet your brothers today?’

He nods. ‘I talked to them, all four of them individually and the other day when we were at my parents and told them how they should behave. They can embarrass me, but they have to be nice to the two of you. I don’t want them to scare you away.’ He puts some butter in the pan and as that melts, he continues by saying: ‘They all bought a gift off of the list that Vanessa gave you, so that must go well.’

‘Are you nervous, Henry?’ I ask him. ‘For us meeting your brothers?’

‘Is it that obvious?’ he laughs and I can’t help but let out a chuckle. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I brought home girlfriends before, you know and they were always really nice to them, but they embarrassed the living daylights out of me, probably scaring the girlfriends a bit in the process. But I don’t want that to happen today.’

‘I think your parents will be on the look out too,’ I chuckle. The other day we were at his parents’ again and Marianne kept gushing about how she has never seen Henry like he is with us and that she is so happy that we are in their lives now. ‘Marianne and Colin very much like Vanessa and according to Colin, he likes my daughter more than he likes his own sons, so there is not much to worry about, sweetheart. However,’ I say, ‘I do think it’s adorable that you worry this much about us meeting your brothers. It shows us that you really care.’

Henry blushes and lets out a bit of a nervous chuckle. He continues to bake pancakes and when he finished up the last one, I hear tiny footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of dog nails hitting the carpet.

‘I’m seven years old, mommy,’ Vanessa yells, as she jumps in my arms.

‘I know, sweetheart. Happy birthday.’ I give her a big kiss and from the looks of it, she is really happy and hyper. ‘You feel like a big girl now?’

‘I do, I do, I do.’ She hugs me tightly and I let out a content sigh, as I press my nose in her hairs. ‘I love you, mommy,’ she says.

‘I love you too,’ I say with a smile. ‘Mommy is really proud of you, you know that?’

She smiles and gives me another kiss. ‘I know,’ she cheekily says and I put her down on the floor. ‘Superman, I’m seven now.’

‘I know, sunshine. You’re getting old.’

‘Not as old as you,’ she retorts and I’m so happy that I am raising a sassy little girl. She jumps in his arms and he kisses her cheek, before he says: ‘Happy birthday, Vanessa.’

‘You are making pancakes?’ she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck.

‘Not just pancakes. I made birthday pancakes, especially for you.’

Vanessa’s eyes grow wider. ‘Really?’

‘Of course,’ he says, nearly scoffing with a chuckle. ‘You only turn seven once and we have to celebrate that with special birthday pancakes. I put some chocolate in it, because I know how much you like that.’

Vanessa looks over her shoulder at me and says: ‘I love this birthday already.’

I lean against the doorway and blink my eyes a little faster. I don’t want to be emotional, but these past weeks have been such a rollercoaster and my feelings are trying to find a new normal again, but it’s not that easy. Especially if you are a professional in bottling up emotions like I am.

We eat our pancakes and I sit across from Vanessa, who sits on Henry’s lap, as he helps her rolling her pancakes. I take dozens of pictures, wanting to have physical evidence of this wonderful moment between them. They are surely getting attached to each other and I continued to think about what would happen if I broke up with Henry.

Would Vanessa still see him?

I forced myself to stop thinking about that, because it only made me sad. I mean, I already can’t imagine a life without Henry.

‘When can I open my presents?’ she asks.

‘When you finished your pancakes,’ I say. ‘After that, we’re going to get dressed go to Henry’s parents.’

‘We’re going to mrs. Marianne and mister Colin again?’ Vanessa claps her hands. ‘Are they going to give me gifts too?’

‘They are, sunshine,’ Henry says. ‘And there are going to be four other guests.’

‘Who?’ she asks, her eyes lighting up already.

‘My brothers.’

She smiles. ‘I like that. Are they going to give me presents?’

I try to hide a laugh, but I fail miserably. The most important things to Vanessa sure are quite something and totally relatable if I’m being honest. ‘They are, sweetheart,’ I say.

‘But, sunshine, I have to tell you something,’ Henry says. ‘If they do something you don’t like, you tell me, my parents or your mommy, okay? This is your birthday and I want you to be happy the entire time, okay?’

‘I can tell them myself,’ Vanessa says.

Henry smiles at her. ‘I know you can,’ he says. ‘But will you promise me that?’

She nods. ‘I promise, Superman.’ She presses her nose against his cheek and says: ‘You really are Superman.’

Henry films as Vanessa opens up all her presents and she is the happiest with the bike Henry and I bought her. It has bears on it and a flag on the back, also with a bear. She sits on it and says: ‘Now I really am a big girl.’

After unpacking the gifts, Vanessa and I go to the bathroom, where we get in the shower cabin and I help her with washing her hairs and getting all freshened up for the day. She keeps on babbling about how happy she is and excited that she is going to see mrs. Marianne and mister Colin again. I wrap her up in a towel after I done that for myself and since I can still carry her, I lift her up in my arms as we walk to the bedroom. ‘You go warm up in my bed, as I get dressed,’ I tell her, handing her my phone so she can play a game on it.

I decide to wear a black casual dress today, since I know that Vanessa always loves it when I wear dresses on her birthday. I slip on the Doctor Martens, tie them up and walk over to the big mirror that I have on the closet. I grab some hair products and comb my fingers through my hair.

Henry enters the bedroom and smiles when he looks at me. ‘Birthday girl,’ he says to Vanessa. ‘Did you tell your mom to wear this dress?’ He runs a hand through his slight out of control curls.

Vanessa nods. ‘Mommy has to wear dresses on my birthday, because I like that.’

He gives her a thumbs up, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Did you pick this one out?’

She nods again. ‘And when I grow up, I want to wear that dress.’

‘You have excellent taste, sunshine.’ He walks over to me, gives me a kiss and says that he is going to take a shower now.

‘Henry, you have to wear something colorful,’ Vanessa says, before he can walk out of the room.

Henry leans against the wall and asks: ‘Like what?’

‘A pink shirt.’

He cocks an eyebrow. ‘I have to check my wardrobe to see if I have a pink shirt. How about before we go to my parents, we stop by at my house?’

‘Can I pick something out?’ she says, her face lighting up already. ‘Pretty please?’

I already know that he us unable to say no to Vanessa. ‘Of course you can.’ He chuckles and looks at me again. ‘You look really beautiful, love,’ he says to me.

‘Thank you.’ I don’t want to blush, but I feel my face heat up.

Henry sends me a wink, before he walks out of the room. After I’m done with my make-up and hair, I turn around and ask Vanessa: ‘You want to wear that pink dress with the bears on it, sweetheart?’

≫≫≪≪

‘Mommy, why is Henry nervous?’ Vanessa asks. We just stopped by Henry’s place, hoping to find something pink, but we came to the conclusion that he doesn’t have anything pink. After going through his closet at least three times, she found a baby blue sweater instead and it looks beautiful on him. It hugs his tight arms and I have my hand wrapped around the bulk of muscles.

We are on our way to his parents house, but he keeps drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and he hums. Now, he usually hums when we’re not really talking in the car, usually in a light tone, causing Vanessa to recognize the song, but today it’s in a nervous tone.

‘Because he is scared that his brothers will embarrass him.’

‘Why?’ Vanessa asks.

I turn around in my seat and say: ‘Because siblings tend to embarrass each other and Henry knows that when we are there to meet them, they will say and do stuff, hoping to get a sort of a reaction out of him.’

‘Isn’t that bullying?’

I shake my head. ‘No, because they are siblings, it’s more like teasing. Like when you want a cookie and I hold the jar over your head…. It’s not necessarily bullying, but I’m teasing you a bit, right?’

She nods. ‘But if Henry doesn’t like it, he should say it to his mother.’

Vanessa is adorable.

‘And otherwise he should tell me. I can tell his brothers they shouldn’t be mean to him. I mean, Henry told me that I should tell him if they do something I don’t like, right?’

‘Very good, sunshine,’ he says with an adoring smile as he looks in his rearview mirror.

We get out of the car, Vanessa holding her Kal’s leash in her hand as she frisks towards the already open front door. ‘Mrs. Marianne!’ she yells, Kal following her close by. For a second I’m afraid Vanessa is going to jump in her arms, but she doesn’t—thankfully—and wraps her arms around her waist. ‘It’s my birthday today.’

‘I know, doll,’ Marianne says. ‘And happy birthday to you. I bought a nice birthday cake for you.’

‘For me?’ Vanessa looks over her shoulder and holds my hand. ‘Mommy, mrs. Marianne bought a birthday cake for me.’

‘No way,’ I say, ‘that is so thoughtful of her.’

Marianne pulls me in a hug. ‘She looks so beautiful,’ she whispers, ‘as do you.’

‘Thank you.’

After she hugged her son too, we all walk into the house and the fact that Vanessa completely ignores the four insanely tall Cavill men, to go and hug mr. Colin, says something about their bond. ‘I missed you,’ she says.

‘I missed the birthday girl too,’ he laughs and from the looks of it, he begins to tell her the newest jokes he looked up, because she bursts into a fit of giggles after a few seconds already.

‘Olivia, these are my brothers,’ Henry says, placing a hand on the small of my back. I don’t know if he does that because he feels like he needs to support me or the other way around. ‘Simon, Charlie, Niki and Piers.’

I am amazed by the Cavill genetics. ‘Wow,’ is the first thing that leaves my lips and I nearly want to throw myself out of a window. ‘I’m sorry, that was creepy.’

All of his brothers start to laugh and I shake their hands to introduce myself, with my cheeks in a full on blush. ‘Nice to meet you, guys.’

‘No, no, no, it’s nice to meet you, Olivia,’ Piers says.

Niki nods. ‘We couldn’t wait to meet the woman that has our Henry all blushy and giggly.’

‘And just wondering, but why him?’ Charlie says. ‘I mean, sure, he is handsome, but have you seen the rest of us?’

Simon holds back a laugh and says: ‘Guys, look at that clenched fist. This man is about to throw in some punches.’

I look up and see not only his fist is clenched, but also his jaw. He is really working himself up and I nearly feel sorry for him. To cut Henry some slack, I say to Vanessa: ‘Sweetheart, come over and meet Henry’s brothers.’

She walks over and stands in front of me and I watch as all of his brothers crouch down, so they don’t seem that intimidating to my daughter.

I already love them.

Vanessa looks up, ignoring them a bit and asks: ‘Have they been mean to Henry already?’

‘No, sunshine, they haven’t,’ Henry says with a smile on his face.

‘So, I can be nice to them?’

I can see the looks on his brothers faces, already melting at the sight of my daughter being quite protective over my boyfriend. ‘Yes, sweetheart, you can be nice to them.’

Vanessa looks at Piers and holds out her hand. ‘My name is Vanessa Tran,’ she says.

‘Nice to meet you, Vanessa and happy birthday.’

She smiles. ‘I’m seven now.’

‘So I heard.’

All of Henry’s brothers seem to be impressed with Vanessa and when she reaches Charlie, he jokingly asks: ‘What does your mom see in Henry anyways? Do you know?’

Vanessa rolls her eyes like the sassy little thing she is. ‘Because he is Superman, of course.’

‘Yeah, I can’t compete with that,’ Charlie admits.

‘You want to see the gifts we bought you?’ Simon suggests and she nods. She holds onto Charlie’s hand and I watch them go to the living room.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ I ask Henry.

‘No, it wasn’t.’ He lets out a big sigh and says: ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

He smiles and holds my hand, as we go to the living room as well. Vanessa is sitting on Marianne’s lap, as she unwraps the other gifts. She is happy every single time, no matter what she gets. She asks whose gift it is, so she can hug the specific person as a thank you.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that Vanessa has wrapped the entire Cavill household around her finger.

While I watch them all interact with my daughter, I can’t help but notice the light in Vanessa’s eyes. I know she accepted that she didn’t have a large family and she told me that she was happy that she had me, but I knew that deep down she wanted to have a dad, grandparents and aunts or uncles. I mean, sure, she has Belle and she loves Belle with all her heart, but this is different.

This is one whole family that fell in love with her and she knows it.

‘Mommy, look, a coloring book filled with bears,’ she chuckles, as she walks over to me.

I pull her on my lap and wrap my arm around her waist. ‘So pretty,’ I say to her. ‘Did you say thank you?’

She nods. ‘I’m really happy.’

‘I know you are.’

‘Is this our new family?’ she asks, loud enough for the others to hear her. ‘Because I like them a lot.’

Don’t you dare start crying now, Olivia Tran. I look over at Henry, who sits next to me on a chair. He slides his arm from the back of the chair on my shoulders, giving me a little bit of comfort. ‘You should ask them.’

She looks at the Cavill family and asks: ‘Are you my new family?’

They unanimously start to nod. ‘We are, doll,’ Marianne says, her voice cracking a bit.

Vanessa turns around in my lap, so she can look at Henry as well. She ushers him closer and asks him: ‘Do they mean it?’

‘They do, sunshine.’ He places his hand on her leg and says: ‘We are all very happy that both you and your mom are part of our family now.’

‘I loved all the presents I got,’ she says, ‘but having a family is the best present I could ask for. Who do I say thank you to for that, mommy?’

I’m unable to answer something, as all sorts of things run through my mind. Have I finally given her everything I simply can? Is the life that I wanted for my daughter, finally happening? I simply press a kiss on her cheek and hear Henry say: ‘You should thank your mom for that.’

Vanessa tilts her head. ‘Why?’

‘Because your mom allowed me in your life,’ he says, ‘and because of that you not only got me, but also got the rest of them.’

Vanessa looks at me and says: ‘Thank you, mommy. For finding the best family for me.’

≫≫≪≪

The entire day I hold my tears back, but when I watch the Cavill men, including Kal run around in the backyard, throwing around a ball with Vanessa, I can’t help but let out a shaky breath.

This is all I ever wanted for my little girl. I wanted her to have a big loving family and now on her seventh birthday, she has that.

After she thanked me for finding the best family for her, I could barely look at someone else anymore. Henry knew something was up, but he couldn’t get it out of me.

I sit on the porch with Marianne. ‘I’m just going to say it once again,’ Marianne says. ‘You have raised an extraordinary girl and the both of you made my son a very happy man.’

I chuckle, as I watch Henry picking up Vanessa and as an answer, she pushes her nose against his cheek, before she bursts out in giggles. ‘Well, he makes me very happy too,’ I say.

Marianne places a hand on my knee and says: ‘From one mother to another, it’s always hard when you think you’re not giving your kids what they deserve, but you are doing an excellent job.’

I blink away some tears. ‘It’s just that… I always feel so guilty when I think about Vanessa and how desperately she wants to have a family, and I’m not able to give her that, but… I never knew how much I missed having a family around me, who cares about me like you all do. I think I forgot how it felt to be welcomed like I am here.’

Marianne nods. ‘Always remember: you don’t have to do it alone anymore. You are welcome here in our entire family and we would love to help you out.’

‘Thank you.’

‘They might make fun of Henry,’ she continues, ‘but his brothers know how happy he is with you. Piers just told me that he never seen Henry like this. Charlie said that you are by far the greatest woman he has ever met and both Simon and Niki are impressed by the way you raised your daughter. You two are truly to best that could ever happen to Henry, but also to us.’

I clear my throat and I stare at Henry, who holds Vanessa above his head, so she can throw the ball through the hoop. ‘Excuse me,’ I say, as I stand up and walk inside the house. I don’t know where I end, but somewhere where people can’t see me from outside.

I bury my face in my hands, as I let out a small sob, followed by many more. I shouldn’t be sad, I should be grateful. I am welcomed in a family with both arms wide open. But it all hits extra hard today. My little girl turned seven today. My boyfriend brought me to his family. Vanessa thanked me for finding her a new family.

‘Is everything alright, love?’ I hear Henry ask me.

I look up, wiping my tears away, but I can’t stop crying. Henry walks over to me and pulls me in a tight and safe hug. ‘It’s nothing,’ I whisper.

‘Don’t,’ he says. ‘Don’t do that. You can tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I’m just a bit emotional, that’s all,’ I say.

Henry gives me a kiss on my forehead and says: ‘Come with me for a second.’ He holds onto my hand, as I follow him through the house. We walk into a bedroom that is obviously his old one and I can’t help but smile, seeing the light blue walls and how neatly it’s all cleaned. We plop on his bed and he pulls me on his lap. ‘Tell me what is going on inside your head, sweetheart.’

‘I think it’s a combination,’ I whisper, looking at my hands. ‘First Vanessa turns seven, then not only does she gain a whole family, but I do too. Every year on her birthday, I kind of wish that we get a card from my family, or a text, you know. Now your brothers bought a lot of Vanessa’s birthday wish list, without ever meeting her.’

Henry pulls me closer to his body. ‘You deserve it,’ he says. ‘Both you and Vanessa. My family loves you, Olivia. Niki and Charlie are already trying to persuade me into bringing you two to our Christmas dinner. I actually think they love you two more than they love me.’

I chuckle, as I roll my eyes.

‘And I have to thank you too,’ he says. ‘Vanessa thanked you for finding her a family, but I have to thank you for allowing me in your own little family. You made me the happiest man on earth.’

I look at him again, wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss on his cheek. ‘God, I love you like crazy,’ I whisper to him.

‘I love you too.’ His fingers play with the hem of my dress, before he slides his hand underneath the thin fabric. ‘You have to go to work tomorrow?’

‘I don’t actually,’ I say with a smile. I raise an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘It’s good to know when I can show you how much I love you.’ He buries his face in the crook of my neck and presses a wet kiss on the sensitive skin. ‘Maybe we should head back again,’ he says, even though we both want something else. It was thrilling to have sex under your parents roof when you were sixteen, but it’s not so cute and daring anymore once you’re nearing thirty and you have a kid.

We walk back downstairs and when we are back in the living room again, Vanessa rushes towards us. ‘Mommy, why are your eyes red? Did you cry?’

Great job, sweetheart, if you can repeat that once again, only louder this time, maybe the neighbors can hear it too. All the Cavills look at me and I clear my throat, feeling a bit self conscious now. ‘I was a little, but they were happy tears.’

Vanessa nods. ‘Henry, do you cry happy tears?’

He lifts her up when she is close enough and says: ‘Sometimes.’

‘When was the last time?’

‘A while ago,’ he says. ‘It was when you gave me that drawing,’ he says. ‘I cried a little bit when I was alone at my place again, because I finally knew for sure that you liked me.’

She chuckles. ‘Silly Henry, I don’t just like you. I love you a lot.’

There is an audible gasp in the living room and I know that I was part of that gasp, but from the looks of it, Marianne took part in it as well. Henry is at a loss for words, but his eyes do fill up with tears.

‘Are those happy tears?’ she asks him, tilting her head.

‘They certainly are, sunshine,’ Henry says, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders too. ‘And you know what’s such a coincidence? I love you a lot too.’ He presses his nose against her cheek. She holds his face in her tiny hands and rubs her nose against his, a little eskimo kiss. ‘I’m never letting you or your mom go,’ he says to her.

Vanessa chuckles. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to let you go,’ she tells him. ‘Because you make my mommy happy and when she’s happy, I am too.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years

Text

Secret Summer - part I

George Weasley x reader

Words: 7600+

Warnings: none

A/N: Ah, I want the summer so bad. This is my first George fic and I fell in love with him. I know this one’s long but the next one is shorter. Oh and happy pride month, my loves!

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Summer had always been your favourite season. The sun and heat were not your enemy. You loved tanning at the beach and diving into the cold water afterwards. Eating ice-cream three times a day, reading a book in the shadow of a tree and staying up late to look at the stars. The late, hot nights were your favourite.

The only downside to summer was the break from Hogwarts and more specifically the break from your friends. Of course you would try to meet with them, but it was hard to find a moment that everyone was available. A lot of your friends went away on vacation to countries far away and when they got back, you were gone with your family.

Nothing was any different this summer, except one thing. Last year you had missed your friends, this year you missed your boyfriend.

You and George had been together for five months now and you had never been away from him for so long. At Hogwarts you were always around him, in class, going on dates or just studying together. Now he was home and so were you. It killed you. Your parents had decided to go on a holiday with just the two of them and you were supposed to go to your aunt and uncle.

Now that was something you were not looking forward to. Your uncle and aunt were... different from you. They were very strict, always following the rules. And of course it wouldn't just be your aunt and uncle, they also had children. Three. Three little, snitching children. The oldest one was eight years younger than you, so there was not much to bond over.

However, everything would change the day before your parents’ departure. You were packing your bags for your stay with your family when your mother called you downstairs.

‘What's the matter?’ you asked when you entered the living room.

Your father was sitting on the couch browsing through a book called Ten Things To Know When Travelling Through Canada. As an answer to your question he gestured to the kitchen where your mom was busy making dinner.

‘An owl arrived for you,’ you mother said and she pointed at an old brown owl. Around its leg a letter was tied. You tried to untie the letter without hurting the owl but the owl didn't even seem to notice you were touching it.

‘Who is it from?’ your mother asked while stirring in a pan.

‘George,’ you answered.

‘Ooh, what did he write?’

Your mom knew of your relationship with George. As soon as you came home for the summer, you couldn't help but tell her. She was really excited for you and with every owl that came from George she wanted to know what he had written.

‘I remember when your dad used to write me such things,’ she had sighed when George had sent you a letter saying how much he missed you in the first week of the vacation.

You quickly read the letter and a smile broke on your face.

‘He is asking if I can spend the summer at the Burrow,’ you answered your mother's question.

Your mother dropped her spoon and clapped her hands excited. She began to dance around the kitchen. Her squeaks made your dad come into the kitchen, looking suspicious from his wife to you.

‘What is going on?’ he asked.

‘Our daughter is spending her summer with her boyfriend!’ Your mother sing-sang and pulled you into a hug.

‘Mom!’ you giggled and tried to free yourself from her embrace.

Your father looked at your mother and tilted his head.

‘What about Margaret and John? They are expecting (Y/N).’

‘Oh, I'm sure they will understand,’ your mother said and you sent her a thankful smile; she knew how much you hated staying at your aunt and uncle's.

Your father said nothing else for dinner and also kept his mouth when you sat with your parents in the living room. The TV was on and even though your father was staring at it, you knew he was having an inner debate. He knew that you didn't like to spend with his brother’s family and if he let you go, you would have a much happier summer. But then you would be staying with your boyfriend.

It was not like you were actually waiting for your father's approval. You were going anyway, whether he wanted it or not.

‘Dad, it won't be much of a difference than the time we spent at Hogwarts for the past half year,’ you pointed out to your father. ‘And his whole family is there.’

That seemed to do the trick because before you went to bed your dad told you that he would drop you off at the Burrow when he and your mom left for their trip.

- -- -

The next morning was hectic. Now you knew you were going to your boyfriend you had to make some changes to the clothes you were bringing. Your mother helped you pick out some stuff.

When you were packed and ready to close your bag your mom slyly slipped a pack of condoms in it. But she failed to hide it from you.

‘Mom! What?’

‘Oh, come on! You're staying at your boyfriend!’

‘And his family!’ you pointed out. ‘They don't even know George and I are dating. They just think we're friends.’

‘Oh,’ your mother said and she sat down next to you on your bed. ‘You didn't tell me.’

‘It's nothing,’ you shrugged. ‘Actually it is kind of exciting, isn't it?’ you added with a small smile.

Your mother kissed you on your head and closed up your bag.

‘Don't tell your father, he’ll have a heart attack,’ she said before taking the bag and walking downstairs.

- -- -

The ride to the Burrow took forever. It was still early and not many people were awake yet. The roads were almost completely deserted.

The song on the radio didn't reach to you and neither did the conversation of your parents. The trees on the side of the road flashed by and your mind dozed off to the last day of school.

It had been the hottest day of the year and everyone was outside looking for some shade. Some seventh year Hufflepuffs had charmed the greenhouses so that it was cooler there. They had only let a few people in and you and your friends belonged to those people. The sun had shone bright on the glass roofs and lit up the plants around you. The morning you spent with your friends but the afternoon was reserved for George. He had wanted to show you something. He took you to the furthest edge of the school grounds. You had never been there before and was surprised with what you found. There, far beyond Hagrid's hut was a small pond. The sun was reflected by the water and all around the edge of the pond there were pink and blue flowers. You had spent the rest of the day there with George and returned late, almost too late for dinner.

A smile appeared on your face as you thought back of that day. You couldn't wait to see George, though it would be hard not to kiss him in front of his whole family.

After an hour your father drove his car in front of the Burrow. Nervously he looked at his watch. This had not been his plan. He had planned to be at the airport by now.

‘You only have to drop me off,’ you reassured him. ‘Say hi to Mr and Mrs Weasley and that's it.’

Apparently the sound of the car had aroused the Weasley household because Mrs Weasley was walking towards you, followed by Ginny and Ron.

‘(Y/N)! Good to see you! I am happy you could make it on such a short notice!’

Mrs Weasley embraced you and then turned to your parents. You let them talk and said hello to Ginny and Ron.

This wasn't your first time at the Burrow. You had been there quite few times now, but every time you stepped foot on the Weasley's property you were amazed by their house. It was completely different from any house you had ever been in and that’s why you loved it so much.

You said goodbye to your parents and wished them a happy and safe trip. You waved them goodbye until you couldn't see the car anymore and then turned to the house.

‘Fred and George are still in bed,’ Mrs Weasley said while she began with breakfast. ‘Ron, go wake up your brothers! Have you eaten yet, dear?’

‘Oh, yes. I had a quick breakfast before I left,’ you answered and watched Ron ran up the stairs to wake the twins.

‘Do you want something?’ Mrs Weasley asked. She was busy with four pans at the same time and you saw eggs, bacon and sausages.

‘Just tea, Mrs Weasley.’

Mrs Weasley pointed with her wand at the kettle and the water started to heat.

You chatted with Ginny about how her vacation had been so far and you discovered that she, just as you, missed her friends. They were all away for the summer.

‘I'm lucky to have you here now,’ Ginny said and you smiled at her. The age difference between you and her had never been an issue. You got along very well with Ginny.

Ron came back down followed by Fred and George. When you met eyes with George you felt butterflies in your stomach. He sat down next to you at table and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

‘I didn't know you would be here so early,’ he admitted, suppressing a yawn.

Under the table his hand found yours and he squeezed it. You hummed softly as a reaction and from the corner of your eye you could see the smile on your boyfriend's face.

Meanwhile Mrs Weasley had finished breakfast and with her wand she placed the plates on table. She gave you a cup of tea.

During breakfast stories of the vacation so far were being exchanged until the conversation was interrupted with Mr Weasley entering the kitchen.

‘(Y/N), good to see you!’ the man exclaimed when he saw you. ‘George has begged us for the past two weeks to invite you!’

Next to you, George's face turned red. Fred laughed into his plate with eggs and his twin kicked him under the table.

Fred was the only Weasley that knew about you and George. Hiding something this big from your twin brother is impossible. You knew that it would be a tough vacation with Fred's dubble-meaning jokes. They had been there at Hogwarts too and you were surprised not more people knew about George and you.

- -- -

‘I missed you,’ George said after he checked the door. He was showing you your room, you were staying in Bill's old room, that had been turned into a guest room, but actually just wanted to be alone with you.

‘I missed you too,’ you replied and placed a soft kiss on George's lips. His hands slid to your back and he pulled you closer. You wrapped your arms around the boy you had missed so much these past weeks.

‘So you haven't told them yet?’ you asked after parting. George laughed a bit nervous.

‘No, I'm sorry,’ he said against your skin.

‘No need to apologise, babe,’ you said and placed a small kiss on his nose. ‘We'll tell whenever we are ready. Until then we just have to be careful.’

And like it was planned, Fred burst through the door. You and George quickly let go of each other and Fred laughed at your shocked faces.

‘You're not gonna keep this a secret longer than a week,’ Fred grinned. George threw a pillow at his brother, who ducked away letting the pillow fall on the ground with a thud.

- -- -

You spent most of the day with Ginny. She had claimed you at breakfast and you didn't want to disappoint her. Besides, you would have the whole vacation to spend with George, one day less wouldn't hurt.

Majority of the day was spent outside in the hot sun. The activities included teasing the gnomes and playing board games in the grass. Mrs Weasley brought you lunch halfway through the day and Ron joined you and Ginny in a game of exploding snap. Fred and George were nowhere to be seen. You slyly asked Ron about them but he said he hadn't seen them.

When it got colder you went back inside. The sun had shone brightly and you could already see the light tan lines on your legs.

After a short shower it was time for dinner. Mrs Weasley had done her best to create the best welcome-dinner you had ever seen. She made all the things you liked and even more.

‘We have to celebrate your stay here!’ Mr Weasley said when you sat down at the table and a sheepish smile grew on your face.

As you started your dinner, conversation quickly changed to plans for the rest of the summer break. You listened mostly; you had nothing to add. You did find out that Harry and Hermione would arrive in two days and would, just as you, spend the rest of their vacation at the Burrow.

‘Harry will sleep with Ron and Hermione with Ginny,’ Mrs Weasley explained.

‘Why not with (Y/N)?’ Fred asked and you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘She's got much space in her room. Not like she has someone to share it with.’

There it was, a joke that made you want to sink into the ground. George's face turned red and he kicked his brother under the table. But his family didn't understand the joke. They didn't even notice it. Molly just went on to explain that Hermione would be perfectly fine in Ginny's room.

‘Fred is just worried he won't be able to visit Hermione like that,’ you teased Fred. He turned red and his brows frowned; he would take revenge.

Fred was not the only one to react to your joke. Mrs Weasley frowned curious and Ginny chuckled into her chicken. But the most remarkable reaction was from Ron. He had choked on his food and his face was as red as his tomatoes.

‘Wha- what do you mean?’ he asked you in between coughs.

‘Nothing,’ you laughed and patted his back. ‘I'm just kidding.’

Over the table you shot a look to George who shrugged. Was it possible that Ron was jealous at your lie?

You had watched him and Hermione over the past years whenever you were in the same room as them and you had to admit that there was chemistry. But when you asked George about it he said that Ron always denied he had feelings for Hermione, or anyone. Maybe that was not the truth.

Without any more jokes that people could misinterpret dinner finished. You offered to help with the dishes but Mrs Weasley pointed out that you were on vacation here and told Fred to do the dishes.

‘I'm on vacation too!’ he sputtered but his mother already left the room. You laughed and that delivered you an angry glare and a hit with the dishcloth.

- -- -

In your pyjama shorts and sweater you lied in bed. The sun had set a while ago already but you couldn't fall asleep. You had left the curtains open and was staring at the night sky. The little, white dots shone luminous on the dark blue canvas.

Above you the floor squeaked. Someone must have left their bed. You listened to the sound of the soft footsteps that disappeared quickly. A shiver ran over your spine. You knew you were safe but still that feeling of slight fear filled your head. There is nothing to be afraid of, you said to yourself. It was probably just someone who had to go to the bathroom or maybe it was that stupid ghost.

But the feeling didn't decrease as you now heard footsteps on the floor your bedroom was on. And they got louder and louder. You sat up in bed and your hands clasped the bedspread.

The handle of your door went down to reveal a dark silhouette. Your eyes were focused on the figure and you didn't move.

‘(Y/N)?’ the dark figure whispered and you recognised George's voice. ‘Are you awake?’

You relaxed and sighed as you reached for the light next to your bed. It popped on and revealed George in his pyjamas.

Apparently the scared look was still on your face because George said: ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes, you just scared the living crap out of me,’ you said and turned your face into a smile.

George hurried over to your bed and sat down. He cupped your face with his hands and placed a kiss on your nose.

‘I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake anyone. Maybe I should've warned you.’

‘Yeah, maybe you should have,’ you chuckled and let George kiss you. ‘Now to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

‘I missed you.’

‘You just saw me two hours ago!’

‘I know.’

‘How have you survived the past two weeks?’ you asked giggling.

‘Barely,’ George breathed in your ear.

His hands slipped from your face to the bottom of your sweater, pulling it over your head to reveal a tank top. In the small light you could see the surprise on his face, but he recollected himself and again reached for the hem of your top. This time nothing was covering your naked chest as he pulled your tank top over your head.

At the sight of you half-naked in his hands, George moaned softly. You could feel the excitement rushing though your body when you pulled the boy closer kissing him passionately. You had missed him. You had missed this.

The night was filled with moans and giggles, so soft no one else in the house heard them. And when you fell asleep, peacefully in the arms of the boy you loved, you mentally made a note to thank your mother for her addition to packing your suitcase.

- -- -

The bed was empty when you woke up the next morning. You knew George had to wake up in his own bed to not raise suspicions but it still made you feel sad.

Silently you got dressed, letting the impressions of last night wonder in your head. In a daze you walked down to the living room. There, Ginny was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, still in her pyjamas, looking just as tired as you. You sat down next to her and said nothing. Together you watched Mr Weasley get ready for his work with the help from his wife.

‘See you tonight, girls!’ he said before stepping into the fire saying ‘Ministry of Magic' and disappearing.

Ginny went upstairs to change and Molly gave you a cup of tea. She looked at with piercing eyes and for a minute you were afraid she had heard you and George. That she knew everything and you had to spend the rest of your summer with your stupid aunt and uncle.

But Mrs Weasley said nothing and walked away, leaving you alone in the living room. You stared at your tea, a bit shocked by your own paranoia.

Before you could finish your tea, Fred entered the room. He sat down opposite of you with a smug smile on his face. You rolled your eyes at him. Of course he knew about last night, but some part of you had hoped that George had managed to escape his room without his twin noticing.

‘Fun night?’ Fred asked and you shot him a dark look but you couldn't answer because Ginny walked in.

She looked a bit more awake now she had changed and probably freshened up. Still the bags under her were clearly visible.

‘Didn't sleep much?’ you asked.

‘No,’ Ginny yawned, like your question reminded her of how little sleep she got. ‘Probably because we did so much yesterday.’

‘Hey, that's funny! (Y/N) didn't sleep much last night either!’ Fred exclaimed.

‘How do you know that?’ Ginny shot back at him, despite her lack of sleep still sharp as always.

‘I heard-' Fred started but you cut him off.

‘I came across him on my way to the bathroom.’ You gave Fred another angry glare and smiled at Ginny hoping she wouldn't notice you were lying.

‘Okay,’ she said and changed the subject of the conversation. ‘What do you want to do today?’

‘I dunno,’ Fred mumbled sinking into his chair. ‘We could play some Quidditch, we don't have even numbers though, maybe (Y/N) can be the referee.’

‘I'm fine with that,’ you said, knowing that your Quidditch skills count for half a person, if not a quarter.

- -- -

After breakfast you and the Weasleys walked to the open field behind the house. The morning sun was already shining radiant and the five minute walk left everyone sweating.

Two hours of Quidditch later everyone was melting away under the heat and the game was stopped. You walked back to the Burrow to find some shade under one of the trees that surrounded the house. Fred disappeared into the house and came back with bottles lemonade kept cold in a bucket filled with ice cold water.

The lemonade was quickly finished and when Ron grabbed the last bottle, Fred took the bucket and emptied it over your head.

Though the cold water was a refreshing and actually quite nice, you quickly turned around and started to cast spells on Fred, wetting him with water jets.

Your attention was on Fred but from the corner of your eyes you could see George looking at you. Or better said, at your shirt. The water had not only made your head and hair wet, it had left you completely soaked. Your shirt was sticking at your body and you were aware of it showing your bra in a not-so-concealing way.

Fred had fled to the house and Ron and Ginny had followed him afraid of also getting wet if they stayed any longer. You were left alone with George and he was not even trying to hide his looks by now.

After quickly looking around and seeing no one he took two steps to stand in front of you, lifted you and pushed you with your back against the tree. His mouth caught yours and his hands squeezed your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

God, you loved everything about this boy. His kiss tasted like lemon and toffees and after a while his mouth opened and his tongue slid into your mouth.

Now, you were only vaguely aware of your surroundings. Anyone could have stood next to you and you wouldn't have noticed. All you could focus on were George's hands and his lips.

After what felt like a way too short time, you had to break apart to both catch your breath. You lowered your legs but stayed locked between your boyfriend and the tree. The bulge in George's pants could be felt through your own shorts and you captured his lips in a sweet kiss.

This moment could have lasted forever if it was up to you, but unfortunately Mrs Weasley's voice broke the comfortable silence. You were hidden behind the tree and she could not see you but at the sound of her voice George took a step back. His face expression changed so fast you were afraid someone had actually caught you but when you looked around the tree you only saw Mrs Weasley in the door frame far away.

You turned back to George but he was already walking towards the house. You ran after him, shirt still sticking to your body and your shorts wet and uncomfortable to walk in.

‘What happened to you?’ Mrs Weasley asked when you stepped foot into the kitchen through the backdoor.

‘Fred and I had a water fight,’ you said and smiled to show her there was nothing to worry about. ‘It'll dry.'

Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at you and you felt your clothes dry. You thanked her and sat down at the dining table. On it there were sandwiches, the reason Molly had called you inside.

You looked around to find George but he had disappeared. Maybe to freshen up?

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the backyard, with your attention in a book. Ron and Fred were playing with a ball, throwing it back an forth. Mrs Weasley was working in the part of the garden that wasn't terrorised by the gnomes.

After a few hours in the sun, you felt like your skin was burning off your body and you decided to go inside. You hadn't seen George since before lunch and you were wondering what he was up to.

‘George? Are you in here?’ you asked and knocked on the door of the twins' bedroom.

‘Yeah.’

The door opened and George came to your sight. He let you in and you sat on his bed.

The floor of the room was scattered with laundry and papers. Just like his dorm at Hogwarts. But here the walls were bright green instead of the dark red of the Gryffindor Tower.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked trying not to sound too worried.

‘Yeah, I'm fine,’ George answered and he sat down next to you. His hand quickly found your hip and he pulled you closer. You rested your head on his shoulder.

‘Okay, you just disappeared and I was wondering if I did something wrong,’ you admitted.

George chuckled. ‘Believe me, you did nothing wrong. I just needed a break from my family, that's all.’

You nodded understanding; you loved the Weasleys but they were a lot to take. Always around and in for a talk. It was nice, but if you wanted some time alone it was not.

‘You want me to leave?’ you asked and already got up but George put his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

‘You're not going anywhere,’ he whispered in your ear.

- -- -

‘Do you really have to go?’

George wrapped the sheets over you and placed a kiss on your forehead, in a way only he could. In the dark you could see the regret in his eyes. He didn't want to leave you, but he was, just as you, scared that someone would find him in your room in the morning.

‘It's only-' you looked at the clock on your nightstand ‘-five,’ you grumbled.

‘(Y/N), if I don't leave now, I'll never. I don't want them to find out like that,’ George said, referring to his family.

He got up and walked to your door. You sighed but didn't ask further; you knew this was no discussion. George made his point and the conversation was over.

‘I love you,’ you whispered in the dark.

‘Love you too,’ was the answer before the door closed.

With closed eyes you listened to the footsteps that walked back upstairs. You heard a squeak when George stepped into his bed and then everything got silent again.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't fall asleep anymore. You tried everything: meditation, counting sheep, just closing your eyes and thinking about happy things. Nothing worked.

The sun came up and lit up your floor. The curtains were open; you hadn't closed them last night. Usually you slept with the curtains open. At night you loved to gaze at the stars from your bed and you liked waking up with the sun shining on your face. However, not when it was this early.

‘I thought this was vacation,’ you grumbled to yourself when the rooster crowed.

When after ten minutes you really couldn't lie in bed anymore you got up. While you got dressed your eyes fell on an empty piece of parchment on the desk. Your parents must have arrived at their destination by now, maybe you should write them. Merlin knows how long it would take before your letter got to them.

Hesitantly you started to write. What should you tell? You knew your mother probably would want every juicy detail, but your father would read the letter too and you didn't want to give him a heart attack.

After you finishing your letter, the house was not so silent anymore. Mr Weasleys wouldn't go to work today. Instead he would pick up Harry at his aunt and uncle's. Hermione would arrive somewhere in the morning.

‘(Y/N), good morning!’

As you walked into the kitchen, you were greeted by Mr Weasley and George. They were both sitting at the dining table. Arthur was reading the newspaper and George was staring outside.

‘You're up early!’ Mr Weasley exclaimed when you sat down opposite of George.

‘Yeah, I couldn't sleep anymore.’

‘Is it that rooster? I have tried everything to make him stop, but he just won't,’ Mr Weasley said and looked over his shoulder outside.

‘No, it wasn't the rooster,’ you mumbled and over the table you felt two eyes on you.

Mr Weasley turned back to his newspaper and you dared to look at George. He shot you a worried look and mouthed: ‘me?’ You shook your head and averted your eyes from him.

Yes, actually it was because of him, but he didn't need to know that.

‘There is a post office in the village, right?’ you asked.

‘Yes, but you can use our owl,’ Mr Weasley said.

‘No, my father doesn't appreciate owls. Or birds in general,’ you added and thought back of that one time your friend had sent a letter with a dove that wouldn't leave your father alone. ‘I think I'll post it the muggle-way.’

‘I'm sure George will take you,’ Mr Weasley said, already turning back to his newspaper. ‘Right, George?’

‘Yes, of course,’ George quickly said when he saw his father's look.

- -- -

‘I'm sorry about this morning,’ George said and bumped your shoulder.

‘It's fine,’ you mumbled; you didn't feel like talking about it now.

George put his arm around your shoulder after looking around suspiciously.

You held the letter tight in your hand and thought about what you wrote. Even though you had written only about innocent things to save your father from any harm, you had thanked your mother for helping you pack. She would get the meaning behind it, while your father just would think it was a sweet compliment.

The village was still asleep and only a few people were awake. The baker, the postman and a few people on their way to work. On your way to the post office you stopped for coffee and muffins at the bakery.

‘Sweets for my sweet,’ George said when the baker gave him the muffins and you cringed at the cheesy words.

Around people he didn't personally know, George had no problem showing his affection. But once he was around familiar faces that attitude changed and the most affectionate thing he would do was his hand on your back, after making sure no one could see it. At first you hadn't mind it, you had thought it was cute and exciting to have a secret relationship. But as the months passed by, and George still didn't show his affection in public, you feared that maybe you were something he was ashamed of. You had never talked about it with him and just brushed it off every time the thought entered your mind. But now, with his family, it suddenly came closer than ever before and you couldn't ignore the feeling anymore.

A bell tinkled when you opened the door of the post office. It was an old building on the outside and the inside matched the exterior. With wood on the floor and the ceiling the room was dark and felt cramped. Behind the counter stood an old woman.

‘George! How are you?’ the woman crowed.

‘Good, Mrs Mavisson,’ George answered. ‘How are you?’

‘Well, my knees hurt more every day and Craig-' she gestured with her head to the door opening behind her ‘-claims we should modernise our system.’ You bowed forward a little bit and saw a mature man in the shadows. ‘Who is this beautiful lady you brought with you?’

A blush crept on your face and you stared at your hands that were wrapped around your letter.

‘This is (Y/N),’ George said and placed his hand on your shoulder. ‘She's my girlfriend.’

Your cheeks turned even more red and you looked up at George. His cheeks were pink but he looked confident.

‘Well, isn't that wonderful!’ the old woman exclaimed and she took your hand. ‘Look at you, you're gorgeous! Craig! CRAIG!’

The man from the shadow stepped in the light. He was younger than the woman. Young enough to be her son.

‘Craig, this is (Y/N). George's girlfriend!’

Craig was way less impressed than his mother. He glanced at you, conjured a forced smile on his face at George and stepped back in to the darkness.

‘Oh, don't mind him, sweetie,’ Mrs Mavisson said and she waved her hand. ‘What can I do for you?’

You gave her the letter for your parents and explained where they were. It was quickly taken care of and after a jovial goodbye, you stepped outside the office into the sun.

‘Mrs Mavisson has worked her entire life in that store. The only way she'll leave is in her coffin,’ George chuckled and he took your hand.

Maybe you were wrong, but it felt like a weight had been lifted of George's shoulders. On the way back to the Burrow he talked happily and smiled, a lot more than this morning.

However, when the Burrow came in sight he let go of your hand and his smile faded. You immediately missed the convivial boy but you understood it too. Though George would never admit it to someone, home was not his favourite place. It was the place where his mother would scold at him for not doing his best at school or for not cleaning his room. The place where he was one of the Weasleys, the other twin. He was not George, he was a son.

‘If you liked this morning, we can do it more often,’ you suggested.

‘That would be nice.’

‘It would.’

A small smile returned on George's face and this time it stayed there, even when he stepped inside the kitchen and was surrounded by the whole family.

- -- -

The fire was burning and the heat spread through the whole living room. How wonderful the weather had been the past few days, so bad was it now. Though you didn't mind, there was something cosy about the rain and thunder outside while you sat in a sweater and woollen socks in front of the fire.

Ron and Harry were playing chess, with the help from Fred and George, on the floor at your feet. Mrs Weasley was darning socks in a rocking chair in the back of the room and Mr Weasley had disappeared in his garage. Hermione, Ginny and you were sitting on the couches talking.

‘Did you know Pansy is dating that Ravenclaw with the big eyebrows?’ Ginny asked.

‘But I thought she and Malfoy were a thing!’ you said.

‘No, I thought so too, but Luna said that the boy had confirmed it the last day of school.’

‘How awful must it be to date Pansy,’ Hermione sighed and you agreed with her.

‘Speaking of dating,’ Ginny started and you felt like she had been wanting to tell this for a long time. ‘I heard our sweet George is dating someone.’

A high pitched sound escaped your mouth but you hid in behind a cough. George looked up when he heard his name, not knowing what Ginny had said. Fred however had been following your conversation and was staring at you with an expression you didn't trust.

‘What's with me?’ George asked and you tried to sign to him not to. But he didn't see you and now turned to Ginny.

‘I heard you're dating someone,’ Ginny repeated.

George's eyes widened and he turned red. ‘I'm not dating anyone,’ he muttered and stared at the ground.

‘Come on! We're family! Tell us!’

‘There is nothing to tell.’

George got up and rapidly left the room. You felt bad for him, but figured it would only add to the rumours if you went after him now.

Fred got up too and walked after his brother. When he passed you he whispered, but so soft no one else heard him: ‘Don't tell.’

Nothing in Fred's behaviour showed he had said that and you almost thought you had imagined it, but before he disappeared you made eye contact with Fred and nodded.

Maybe Fred wasn't such a joker when it came to you and George after all.

‘I don't care what he says,’ Ginny said after Fred had gone upstairs too. ‘Amy saw him with someone on the last day of school. She didn't see who, though.’

‘Maybe it was just Fred with a wig,’ you joked and hoped Ginny would drop the subject.

‘Well, he must write her,’ Ron said from his position on the floor. He had beaten Harry at chess and was now involved in the conversation. ‘What if we got one of his letters?’

‘Or one of hers?’

You smiled at their plan that was doomed to fail.

The clock stroke eleven and Mrs Weasley, who had fallen asleep, scared up. She sent everyone to bed, but not before scolding at them for letting her fall asleep.

- -- -

You wanted to lie down in your bed, but there was already someone in it.

‘George!’ you whisper-yelled and George put his hand on your mouth.

‘I thought this was easier than waiting for everyone to be asleep,’ he explained.

You lied down next to him and breathed in his scent. The rain was slamming down on the window and muted the other sounds of the house. Everyone once in a while the room lit up and five seconds later the house shook from the thunder.

In silence you lied thinking about the conversation earlier in the living room. You were tired but you wanted to talk to your boyfriend. At night was usually when you and him caught up on each other's day. You had missed talking to him. Of course you had missed the romance, but in the two weeks at home you had realised how big of a deal George was in your life. At Hogwarts he was always around and you could talk to him any moment of the day. It was at home that you realised how much those little moments meant to you.

‘We don't have to talk,’ George said like he could read your mind.

You smiled sheepishly and buried your face in his neck. There was something about doing that that was comforting. You felt like the whole world disappeared for a moment when you hid in George's neck.

His hand was caressing your hair while you dozed off. The thunderstorm was still going on but you didn't even hear it anymore.

- -- -

A loud banging on your door woke you up. You slowly opened your eyes. That hollow feeling of loneliness filled your heart when you reached for the empty space next to you.

The banging continued and you felt the sound in your chest.

‘Who's there?’ you asked and the door opened.

Ginny was standing in your room her face glowing with excitement. She ran to you and dropped herself on your bed. Hermione appeared as well and she closed the door.

‘Gin, it's seven in the morning!’ you groaned and rubbed your eyes.

‘No time to be tired!’ Ginny exclaimed and she sat up straight. Only now you noticed the letter in her hand. She was waving her arms but you could read to who is was written.

‘Oh no, Ginny!’

‘It must be her! Who else would write him?’

‘His friends?!’ you asked and lifted yourself up.

‘I already woke up Harry and Ron,’ Ginny spoke, ignoring your comment. ‘They should be here any minute.’

And not long after she said that the two boys entered your room. The room was not big and with five people there was not a lot of space left. Ron sat down at the foot end of the bed and Hermione on the edge of it. Harry kept standing.

‘Ginny, what is so important you have to wake us this early?’ Ron grumbled at his sister.

She held up the letter and waved it in front of Ron's face.

‘She wrote him! I waited for the mail this morning and this letter was addressed to George!’

Ron's expression showed exactly how you felt.

‘Ginny, it could be one of his friends. And it is definitely not worth getting up for this damn early!’ he said.

But Ginny didn't listen to him. She ripped open the letter with excitement on her face. That didn't last long though. As she read more of the letter her face turned less happy and more into a frown. After she finished it she dropped her hands and stared at it.

‘And?’ Harry asked, but Ginny didn't answered. Ron took the letter from her hand and searched for the sender.

‘Lee,’ Ron said plain. ‘It's a letter from Lee. Not his girlfriend.’

‘It could have been his girlfriend,’ Ginny said with a low voice.

‘But it's not. Nice job, Gin,’ Ron said and got up. He left the room with Harry. Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's shoulder.

‘Don't listen to him. You are right; it could have been his girlfriend. Right, (Y/N)?’

‘Yes,’ you lied and put the letter back in the envelope. With your wand you closed it and gave it back to Ginny. ‘You might want to put his back before he notices.’

Ginny nodded and left your room swiftly. Hermione stared at you and you felt like you knew what was coming.

‘It's you, isn't it?’ she asked and squeezed her eyes.

‘Yeah,’ you smiled. ‘But please don't tell anyone. George- I mean, we haven't really told anyone, so...’

Hermione just smiled back at you and left you alone. Your groaned and fell back down on your bed. Great way to start a day.

- -- -

Your mood didn't get any better as the day went on. Ron apparently decided not to communicate with Ginny in any way but shooting her angry glares and George was silent the whole day, sitting in the corner of the room with a book in his hand. However, not once did you see him turn his page. And on top of it all, it was still raining.

You wanted to talk to him, tell him that there was nothing to worry about. Ginny would get bored by it within a few days and everything would turn back to normal.

However you couldn't talk to your boyfriend until the end of the afternoon. Mrs Weasley had asked her son to go to the store because she had forgotten something and you had offered to join, under the excuse of wanting some fresh air.

So now you were walking with George under an umbrella, arms hooked as soon as the Burrow was out of sight.

‘I love the smell of rain,’ you said. ‘And how everything looks right after it has rained.’

‘Hmm,’ George hummed and you looked at him.

‘Are you alright? Please, don't feel bad or forced to do anything because of Ginny's comment. Don't worry, she'll get sick of it in a few days.’

‘I know. I just don't think I am ready to tell them,’ George confessed.

‘Can I ask why?’ you asked insecure.

‘You saw how Ginny reacted! I can't tell them anything without it being blowed up. And then it is you!’

You held still and looked at George sharply.

‘What do you mean?’ Your voice was demanding and not as soft anymore.

‘They would freak out! (Y/N), I have been hiding our relationship for seven months! If I told them now they would- they would- I don't know! They would laugh at me, at us.’

George's words hurt you. You were standing in front of him with tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. It didn't matter, it shouldn't matter what his family thought. But now it just sounded like you were not enough for his family.

‘So you are just never going to tell them?’ you snorted. ‘I don't care what they think George, you know that. I love you and that is all that matters.’

‘I love you too but-'

‘No, apparently not as much I do. Guess I am an idiot for not noticing after all this time.’

You stepped away from George into the rain. For seconds you stared at each other. The cold rain drops wet your shirt but you didn't care. You were focused on George's eyes and tried to read the expression in them. But you saw nothing. His eyes were empty.

The hot tears mixed with the cold rain on your face. The dark sky was lit up by a strike of lightening and thunder immediately followed. You turned around and started to walk away, back to the Burrow, half hoping George would run after you, the other half of you wanting to be left alone.

And he let you go.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter #george x reader #weasley twins

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

To Thaw Her Frozen Heart (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali and Rosé are childhood best friends who love playing with Denali’s ice powers at night. After an accident, Rosé leaves and Denali learns to live without her. When they’re suddenly reunited, will they be able to recover what they lost, or will fate tear them apart again?

(A Frozen AU).

A/N: So I originally had an to do a Frozen AU with Branjie–but I came up with the idea while I was writing Royals, and the overall vibes were so similar that I buried it in my docs and never went back to it. I recently had the idea to do it with Rosnali instead, and I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for encouraging me to do this, helping me brainstorm, and betaing! I couldn’t have done this without them.

Please leave feedback if you’d like!

Title from Frozen Heart from Frozen.

—

“Nali, do you wanna build a snowman?”

Denali jumps out of bed at Rosie’s knock. She throws open the door and grins at her best friend. “Let’s go!”

They keep their voices down as they scamper over the polished floors. They should be in bed, but the portrait room has been their spot since forever, luring them in with high ceilings and big windows that are swallowed by moonlight.

Of all the things her and Rosie do together—chasing each other through the castle for a game of tag; picking fresh berries from the castle bushes and passing them back and forth until they both had purple lips; laughing and spinning around in dresses too big for them as they play dress-up with old clothes in the attic—this is their favorite. A winter wonderland just for them.

The doors open and Denali covers the floor in a blanket of snow. Denali’s parents don’t want her using her powers at all, and these nights are their secret. Denali knows Rosie will never tell, just like she’ll never tell that Denali broke the vase in the entrance hall and still sleeps with her stuffed wolf. Just like Denali will never tell that Rosie is the one who sneaks chocolates from the kitchen and checks under her bed for monsters. There was something sacred in their friendship, something they understood but couldn’t explain, a sense that they knew each other as well as themselves, and always would.

Tonight’s snowman smiles over them as they make snow angels, giggling and staring up at the paintings of kings and queens and explorers on the walls.

“Maybe when we’re grown-ups we can go on adventures and stuff,” Rosie says excitedly. “We can ride horses and fight monsters and—“

“And climb mountains! And swim in the oceans!” Maybe someone would make a painting of them. Denali would definitely smile for it, unlike the mean faces frowning around them.

“Yes!”

“What if you can climb a mountain now?” Denali asks. “I’ll make little ice mountains for you.”

Rosie jumps up and brushes the snow off her, her grin brighter than the moon as Denali lifts her off the ground with a small ice column. She makes another, a little taller, and Rosie leaps onto it. She jumps on them all, higher and higher, a brave adventurer.

“Rosie, slow down!” Denali shoots ice columns as fast as she can, but Rosie leaps for the next one just after her feet touch the last.

“Look how high I can jump!”

“Wait!”

Rosie jumps higher and farther than her other jumps—far past the column Denali had ready for her. Denali desperately shoots another ice blast, hoping it lands under Rosie’s feet–

But it doesn’t.

It hits Rosie instead, and she crashes to the floor with a thud that echoes through the room and every part of Denali’s heart.

Denali doesn’t breathe as she runs to where Rosie is crumpled on the floor, not moving.

“Rosie?” Denali shakes her shoulder gently, but she doesn’t wake up.

The snow had cushioned some of her fall, and Rosie doesn’t look hurt, not like that time she fell outside and scraped both her legs. But Rosie was so brave that she didn’t even cry that time, just sniffled a little when her mom cleaned her up.

She’s not crying now, but she’s not waking up or moving either, when she’s normally always in motion, laughing or dancing or singing. She looks so small. She’s a year older and a little taller than Denali, but now she looks tiny, like she’s always been the smaller one.

Her head slumps back, and Denali stares in shock. In Rosie’s soft red hair, there’s a streak of white. Denali’s never seen hair turn a different color like this, and it can’t be good.

“Hang on, Rosie. I’ll get my mom and dad.”

Slippers are pulled on and doors are slammed as Denali wakes her parents, then Rosie’s, since they’re the royal advisers and sleep next door.

Rosie is blinking awake when Denali leads them back in, her teeth chattering as she shivers in the snow. The snow. Denali’s heart sinks. Now her parents know what they’ve been doing, and she and Rosie will be in so much trouble, and what if they can’t be friends anymore? What if something bad happens to Rosie? Denali forces back the tears in her eyes.

“Rosé!” Rosie’s parents run to her, and Denali runs too, only to be held back by a hand on her shoulder.

“We talked about this, Denali,” her mother hisses. “These powers aren’t something you can play with. Rosie needs a healer, or she’ll freeze solid.”

Denali wants to protest, tell her mom that she’s careful and tonight was an accident, that she would never hurt Rosie on purpose, but she hears the echo of her mother’s words, hears Rosie’s parents whispering about how cold she is, and knows tonight is all her fault. Hot tears flood the collar of her pajamas.

“There’s a healer up north who can fix her,” Denali’s mom says to Rosie’s parents, calm and cool like the queen she is.

The whispers continue, too hushed for Denali to hear, but she knows they’re taking Rosie from her.

“What healer? Can I come?” Denali asks.

“No, Denali.”

“But—“

Her mother flashes her a stern look, and Denali quiets.

Rosie’s parents scoop her up and carry her out, and that’s the last time Denali sees her.

—

Denali watches the following years from her bedroom window.

Rosie and her parents move to another castle. Denali writes her letters, but she never gets a reply back, not a single word in Rosie’s loopy handwriting. Without Rosie, her powers fade for a while, tiny pricks of ice when she once made mountains, but when they return, it’s with the ferocity of an ice storm. She knows it’s worse when she’s missing Rosie, like when her birthday passes without their tradition of having tea in the rose garden, or when the lake freezes over and there’s no one to skate on it with. At those times, the ice digs into Denali’s heart and flows outward, tears freezing on her cheeks as everything around her frosts over.

She stays in her room all day, even takes meals there when she can’t stop freezing the table because a laughing redhead should be beside her, and ice covers her room like dust of a life unlived.

The castle remains shut, just Denali and her parents inside, so there’s no chance of her hurting someone while she spends her days inside, working on control.

Don’t miss her so much. You can visit her when you can control your powers, her parents instruct, slipping thick white gloves over her hands. Conceal it, don’t feel it.

So Denali conceals it. She takes all the memories with Rosie–the time she was stuck in bed with a cold and Denali read to her all day; snowy mornings warmed by hot chocolate and smiles; golden autumn days shining with leaves–buries them inside her heart, and lets it freeze over like the lake. She is the lake now, and everything she wants to feel is pushed underneath, sinking to the earth. A polished surface is all they’ll see of her.

By 18, she’s given up on the letters. By 19, she can spend a few hours outside her room without freezing everything.

By 21, the lakes of her heart are beyond thawing.

—

Denali can’t remember the last time so many people were in the castle. She hears the crowd’s distant hum, ecstatic voices streaming to the grand hall for her birthday feast, where she’s expected in five minutes. But she can’t go with her gloves on, and every time she peels them off her shaking hands, her fingertips freeze.

She takes a deep breath. She can do this. The gloves come off, and she’s normal. Just a normal princess about to see hundreds of people for the first time in fifteen years. The castle already feels too small, too crowded, too loud, with everyone inside, disturbing the silence that normally consumes things. She’s not even inside yet and she can see them staring at her, judging her, wondering why the castle was locked all these years. If she can’t control her powers, they’ll know why.

She strides out, icy blue dress rippling like water around her. There was a time when this was all she wanted. All those hours with Rosie, trying on dresses and imagining wearing them to balls, Denali glowing with the confidence of a princess and Rosie glowing with confidence that was all her own, title or not. Now, all Denali wants is to hide in her room.

The air flies out of Denali’s lungs when she sees a redhead in the crowd. It could be anyone in the world, she tells herself. She’s just seeing things because she’s stressed, and the ice pricking at her fingers proves it.

Though she used to dream of feasts and has missed countless ones over the years, this one is nothing special, nothing to make her regret missing the others. There are food and drinks, nobles and leaders, handshakes and small talk. Her parents do the talking; Denali just has to smile on occasion, a perfect princess, and even smiling is hard enough when she’s done so little of it the past years, her face a frozen mask. Not like the days when all it took was a smile from Rosie to make Denali smile too.

The dishes are cleared, and everyone walks to the ballroom for a night of dancing. Denali’s wondering if she can duck out early when there’s a tap on her shoulder.

“It’s really you,” the person says, and Denali turns and looks into eyes she’s never forgotten.

Rosie.

Denali doesn’t believe it at first. Maybe she doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to believe that her childhood best friend is a grown-up too. That their world of tea parties and dress-up and games is truly gone. Maybe it would be easier to believe if she and Rosie had grown up together like they should have, if she had watched Rosie grow taller, seen her face change into the person looking at her now.

And the person looking at her, though older, is completely, unmistakably Rosie. Denali would know her anywhere, even after all this time with Rosie only existing in her memory. The same soft, coppery hair with its streak of white, the same warm eyes that would light up in mischief, the same blinding smile unleashed without hesitation around Denali.

Denali falters. She doesn’t know how many times she imagined seeing Rosie again, rehearsing her words, but now she’s speechless. Where does she start? How did the healer fix her? Why didn’t she answer Denali’s letters? Does she hate Denali? Is Rosie still the same person who dreamt of adventure and liked honey on her bread?

“Rosie,” Denali breathes, and it’s somehow everything at once.

—

Denali takes Rosie to the portrait room. The faces on the wall are old friends, more welcoming than the ballroom crowd they’re avoiding.

They sit on the floor like they used to, and it’s so familiar that Denali can almost pretend the past 15 years didn’t happen. That they’ve never been apart.

“We used to come here all the time,” Rosie says. “I swear I’ve had dreams about this room.”

“You probably have. We basically lived in here,” Denali says. “Do you remember that time it rained all day and we had a picnic in here?”

“And we tried to make sandwiches but you dropped the stuff all over the kitchen–”

“And you tried to cook an apple over the fireplace and almost burned your arm,” Denali says, and then they’re both laughing, a sound that makes everything seem more real, less like a dream. She has Rosie back, and her heart is lighter than it’s been in years, beating strong with a new joy.

But then there’s a pause, and as much as Denali wants to tell stories all night, she needs to know what happened after Rosie left.

“How come you’re at the ball?” Denali asks.

“I was invited,” Rosie says. “I wouldn’t crash a party.”

“You would and you know it, Rosie,” Denali says.

“I always liked how you called me Rosie,” she says, eyes on the floor. “Everyone else calls me Rosé. That’s all I ever go by now.”

Denali swallows, wondering how else Rosie–Rosé–has changed, if there’s only a little of Rosie left in her. “Where do you live now? What happened after …” she can’t bring up the accident yet.

“What do you mean?” Rosé asks. “My parents got hired as advisers to the lord of Riverton, and that’s why we left. Your parents recommended them for it.”

Denali shakes her head. “You left because there was an accident. We were playing, and I hurt you by mistake, and I’m so sorry–”

“Accident?” Rosé bites her lip in confusion. “There wasn’t an accident.”

“Yes there was.”

“I don’t—I don’t remember that, Denali. I swear I don’t.” Her voice is sincere, and Denali already knows she’s telling the truth, because Rosé rubs her neck when she lies.

But how can she not remember? Denali can’t forget the sound of Rosé falling, how limp she was as Denali tried to wake her, how she was carried away without a goodbye. How it was all Denali’s fault.

“I wrote you letters,” Denali says, changing gears. “You never wrote back.”

“I never got letters from you!” Rosé’s eyes are wide. “I wrote you dozens of letters and never got anything back. Something’s wrong here.” She wrings her hands together, clearly stressed; Denali remembers how, anytime she was in a bad mood, Rosé would always ask how she was feeling and what she needed, a great communicator. This confusion must be eating her up, and Denali needs to fix it.

Clarity hits her like ice, and Denali knows who she needs to talk to.

Her parents.

—

In the ballroom, Denali’s parents are talking and laughing like nothing is wrong. Like they haven’t lied to Denali for most of her life. She doesn’t have an ounce of guilt as she pulls them into the hall, mind spinning with what to call them out on first.

“What’s this about, Denali?” her mother asks. “We’re in the middle of a ball for your birthday, if you didn’t notice–”

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time! You made Rosé and her parents leave, and you never sent my letters! And Rosé—she has no idea the accident happened! Did you block her memory or something?”

The queen sighs, sensing Denali’s anger too much to deny her. “We didn’t do it. Her parents did.”

“But how?” Denali knows it wasn’t a normal healer they took Rosé to, but could you really erase a memory?

“After the healer fixed her, Rosé was … upset. She was worried about you, kept yelling and asking for you. Nothing could calm her down. Her parents asked the healer to erase her memory of the accident and convince her that your powers were all her imagination. That way, she was calm, and she couldn’t tell anyone about your powers.” The queen’s voice is as calm as always, like she’s discussing business plans and not a lie that was kept from her daughter for fifteen years.

Rage and power rise in Denali’s chest, bumping against the layers of ice that always tamp her feelings down. She can’t imagine how scared Rosé must have been, waking up in some strange healer’s place, how her first instinct—look for Denali—couldn’t help her. Of course she was upset, and yet the main concern wasn’t how to help her, but how to keep her quiet. “They had no right to do that to her!”

“They really did think it would help her, Denali. They didn’t want her suffering from the memory her whole life.”

For a second, Denali wonders if it’s worse to take someone’s memory away, or let them suffer from it. Rosé’s parents thought they were helping her. Had Denali’s parents considered offering her that same mercy? Or did they think suffering would turn her into the princess she needed to be?

“And the letters? You never sent them, did you?”

“No,” her mother says. “We worried you would be in danger if word of your powers got out. We all decided it was best to separate you two. Then you could control yourself without her to distract you, and Rosé could go on thinking she imagined your powers. No one would know or get hurt. We invited her today since you’re in control.”

“You lied to me! My whole life, you lied to me. You took my best friend away and just left me in my room!” Denali shakes with rage, the heat of her anger blocking out the dull coldness tingling in her hands. For the past fifteen years, she’s blamed herself. Blamed herself for missing with her ice, for hurting Rosé, for being the reason she had to leave. But now it’s different. She and Rosé didn’t just lose years of friendship and memories—it was stolen from them.

“Denali.”

The words are a warning, one Denali can’t listen to. Not when everything was taken from her, when she spent so long locked inside this castle, blame and anger and loneliness heaped on shoulders too young to bear it, while the people with the power to ease the burden looked the other way.

Power courses through her, and the first ice blast destroys the ballroom doors. The second freezes the walls and sends people running, screaming and shoving others out of the way. Denali hears her parents warning her to stop, but it’s so far beyond her control that her hands don’t feel like they belong to her. Her heart pounds so fast it hurts, the ache growing sharper with her gasps for breath. She can’t stop the ice from pouring out of her hands, creeping along walls and floors while people run—

“Hey, Denali, it’s all right.”

It’s Rosé, of course, fearless and calming as ever. Denali’s port in a storm, helping her even when others ran. Denali sees the shape of her, the pink dress trailing down her body, but everything else is blurred. She faintly hears people calling for her arrest, calling her a monster.

Monster.

It rings through her ears, sharp as a knife. She has a sudden view of the people huddled in the corners, terror on their faces, and she falters. This isn’t what she wanted.

“I–I’m not a monster, I—“ Denali tries to breathe, to stop shaking. It’s all too much–the mass of people, the ear-splitting shouts, the burning stares. Everything’s closing in, and the ice around her isn’t an attack anymore. It’s protection.

“Breathe, Denali,” Rosé soothes.

She tries, but the royal guard is approaching as the crowd shouts for them to take her away. One raises his sword, dangerously close to Rosé. If he swings at Denali, Rosé will be in the crossfire, and Denali doesn’t hesitate to send an ice blast to stop him. Only—

Only he pushes Rosé in front of him, and the blast hits her in the chest.

Denali is six years old again, watching helplessly as Rosé gasps. Ice explodes around her, driving back the crowd and giving Denali space to finally breathe. By the time her vision clears, another streak of Rosé’s hair is snowy white, and her knees are wobbling. “Rosie? Are you—“

“I knew your powers were real,” Rosé says weakly, and she faints into Denali’s arms.

—-

Denali doesn’t hesitate. She changes her clothes, packs a bag, and slings Rosé into the carriage with her.

She escapes the crowd calling her a monster, leaves her parents to smooth things over, and sets off with a rumpled map of the north, grateful to have Wintervale behind her. The world outside is cold and crisp, wind biting at the carriage, and Denali sucks in every bit of air she can get, savoring the freedom despite the worry of Rosé’s shivering body beside her. Everything is swirling like a blizzard inside her–the anger, the worry, the fear, the determination. It’s more than she’s felt since she was six, more than she’s had reason to feel since she was six, and each emotion strains against a chest that doesn’t know how to hold so much.

She doesn’t know what will happen now that her secret is out, now that half the kingdom is afraid of her, but she doesn’t care. She can’t care, because she has to get Rosé to the healer. She can’t allow herself to feel anything else until Rosé is healed, shoving away emotions she doesn’t have room for. Despite how fast the horses are going, the north is so vast it feels like they’re barely moving.

“Are you warm enough?” Denali asks, biting her lip in stress. She had wrapped Rosé in two blankets and slipped extra thick gloves over her own hands, for protection as much as for warmth. Each layer is a barrier between them, another thing preventing Denali’s touch from freezing Rosé, because Denali can’t trust herself.

“Yes.” Rosé looks at her, bright eyes sizing her up. “Don’t make that face, Denali. I know that face. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I hurt you!”

“It was an accident. Please don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you at all. I mean it.”

Denali doesn’t have it in her to argue. It wasn’t that her parents explicitly blamed her for everything; they just didn’t stop her from blaming herself. Never granted her the gentle kindness that comes through in every word Rosé says. Rosé is not only stopping Denali from blaming herself, but giving her the grace and permission to forgive herself too. And maybe Denali can.

“Denali?”

“Yes?”

“This happened before. That’s what you said in the portrait room.” It’s not a question, and Denali wonders if her powers jogged something in Rosé’s memory.

“It did,” Denali says. The lie ends with her. “One time when we were kids, I was making ice mountains for you to climb. You jumped too far, though, and I tried–I tried to catch you, but I hit you instead. My parents and your parents took you to this healer–the one we’re going to now–and they stopped the ice from hurting you. But my mother said you were upset and your parents had the healer erase the accident from your memory.”

Rosé nods. There’s only a little recognition in her face, and Denali wonders what it’s like to not remember such a big event in your life, to just have it erased. To have to trust that what Denali is telling her is true. “I remember some parts,” Rosé says. “I remember the healer’s cabin, how you could see the mountains from her window. I wanted to show you, but you weren’t there and I started crying. I … I remember asking to see you, but everyone said no. I thought you might be in trouble so I told them it wasn’t your fault, that it was an accident, but no one would listen. The healer did some spell, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up, we were in Riverton.” Rosé shakes her head bitterly. “I’d have dreams about your powers, and they felt so real, but I thought I made it up—“

“It’s okay.” Denali wants to pat her knee, soothe her the way Rosé would if the positions were reversed, but she can’t. Not with the danger her hands carry.

Rosé just nods.

“I’m sorry,” Denali says. “I’m sorry about then and I’m sorry about now.”

“Well, I forgive you. Then and now.” Despite the slight pain clouding her eyes, despite the wind whipping around, Rosé flashes her brilliant smile. “Hey, it looks like we got our adventure after all.”

Denali smiles too.

—

They stop for the night when the snow hits. Huge snowflakes flutter down like pieces of clouds, stark against the pitch-black sky. Denali can’t see well between the snow and the dark, and even though she wants to push on, Rosé has been silent and half-asleep the past hour, the ice undoubtedly weakening her joyful, talkative self, and Denali knows she needs to rest.

She pulls the carriage into a valley of pine trees.

“Rosie, we’re stopping for the night,” she says softly.

Rosé nods faintly, and Denali looks at her with a pang of guilt. More white streaks through her hair like a mountain pass and her face is just as pale, each movement stiff and wracked with shivers. She reaches out to help Rosé into the back of the carriage, then stops abruptly, frozen with fear.

“You can touch me,” Rosé says.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Again, Denali thinks but doesn’t add.

“You won’t hurt me,” Rosé says. But she climbs out herself.

The back of the carriage is just big enough to sleep in, and Denali presses herself against the side, leaving as much room as possible between them.

“T–take one of my blankets,” Rosé says. She’s curled up as tight as she can to stay warm, and Denali curses herself for not grabbing more blankets in her rush.

“Don’t need it.” Denali’s barely noticed the cold. Her heart’s already frozen anyway, how much colder could she get?

“Tell me if you do,” Rosé says quietly.

Denali nods, but she knows she won’t, just like she won’t sleep tonight. She can’t trust herself with the release of sleep, can’t risk bumping into Rosé and hurting her.

Rosé blinks sluggishly, trying to ward off the sleep fogging her eyes.

“Rosie, get some sleep,” Denali says.

“I’m not leaving you alone. Not like last time.” There’s a firmness in her voice Denali wouldn’t have thought possible, and she doesn’t argue.

“I almost forgot,” Rosé continues. “I have a present for you.”

“You didn’t have to—“

“I missed all your birthdays, Denali.”

“I missed all yours, too.”

“Well, I guess I have a bunch of presents from you to look forward to,” Rosé teases cheerfully. “You know I love presents.”

Denali smirks. “You do.”

“Anyway, here’s yours.” Rosé removes one arm from her blankets, hissing when the cold hits, and extends a box to Denali.

Inside is a necklace with a tiny snowflake charm, and Denali immediately clasps it around her neck.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, Rosie. Thank you.”

Rosé coughs. “Denali, I know you might not like your powers, but they’re–they’re beautiful. Like–”

“Like me?” Denali interrupts, cutting off the swell of her heart before it grows too big, breaks through the ice.

“I would’ve said like me.” Rosé laughs. “But like you too.”

Denali smiles, grateful it’s too dark for Rosé to see her blushing cheeks.

“Do you–do you remember that night it was raining?” Rosé asks with a yawn. “And we looked at the stars?”

“Of course I do.” Denali knows Rosé should sleep, but she’s doing this to spare Denali from being alone, and it’s the most kindness she’s been shown in over a decade. So Denali plays along, retracing the night rain lashed at the windows and kept her awake, how she went to Rosé’s room and found her awake too, and they sat by the window while Rosé told stories about the stars until they fell asleep tangled together on the window seat.

“I used to look at the stars in Riverton. They were never as pretty as they were from Wintervale. But I always hoped you were looking at them too.” Rosé smiles, and Denali thinks some of her heart melts.

“I was.” Even if they were apart, Denali knows they were at least seeing the same stars, like their souls were calling out to each other. Denali tells Rosé the stories Rosé once told her, soothing her with tales of heroes earning their places in the sky, of the beauty in each star, until Rosé finally gives into her exhaustion and falls asleep.

Denali pulls off her long coat and throws it over Rosé, sleep allowing Rosé to take a favor she would never accept if she was awake.

Rosé seems so much younger in her sleep; looking at her now, the world silent except for her gentle breathing, Denali feels like she’s coming apart at the seams, because right now, she’s not seeing Rosé; she’s seeing Rosie, the girl she cared for more than anything else. And just like that, everything she’s kept inside all day–all her life–is rising to the surface, and the ice isn’t enough to contain it anymore.

It was easier to control things when they were apart, when Denali was alone in her room with no one to talk to. She learned to be comfortable with solitude, with the cold. At first, she childishly believed the promise her parents kept stringing along, fantasizing about visiting Rosé one day and striking up a game of tag even if they were too old. But as she got older, she knew it was just a fantasy, and it made things easier. She could control her feelings when there was nothing to cause them, dry tinders without a spark. There was no Rosé to tell jokes and burst into song and make Denali smile and laugh. Denali only had as much joy as she could bring herself, and staring at the same walls every day didn’t bring much. There was nothing to make her lose control.

But now Rosé is back, when Denali never thought she would be, and so are the feelings Denali pushed down so deep she thought they were beyond recovering. She was barely prepared to see people in the castle today, and ending the night with Rosé was the last thing she expected. Her heart is wrung out like a sponge, unused to such feeling after years of faintly beating–the joy of seeing Rosé’s smile again, the familiarity of the freckles dusting her shoulders, the relief of knowing Rosé still understands her, is still her friend. The hope that after all this, Rosé can stay for good.

If Denali doesn’t lose her first.

She knows it was an accident, that she didn’t mean to do it. But it still happened, and Denali provided the weapon. The old ache rises in her, the pain attached to the memory of hurting someone as good and kind as Rosé, someone so close to her, practically part of her. She’s more than Denali’s best friend—she’s a tie to her past, a time before the sadness. Proof and hope that the happiness that painted their days can color the world again.

She touches the necklace at her throat. Your powers are beautiful, Rosé said. Maybe she’s right. Maybe just because her powers are cold and sharp at times doesn’t mean they always have to be. When they were kids, Denali’s powers brought them such joy. Maybe she can have that again. With Rosé. Because she’s going to make it, and they’ll be friends after this. Denali knows it.

Rosé sighs in her sleep, and it sounds like Nali, Denali’s heart tugging again as she pretends it’s the wind. A piece of hair falls over Rosé’s face, and as much as Denali wants to tuck it behind her ear, she resists. Once Rosé is healed and Denali is in control, not shaken with both the joy of getting Rosé back and the fear of losing her all over again, then Denali can touch her. She hides her hands behind her back and watches over Rosé until the morning sun sets her hair alight and shines through the cracks in Denali’s heart.

—

Rosé can barely move the next morning. Denali catches her tiny winces, likely from how sore and stiff she is after all the shivering and clenching of her muscles. Denali’s hands hover behind her, a silent offer of help that she’s afraid to give and that Rosé probably won’t ask for, not wanting Denali to worry about her. Rosé only manages a few bites of the apple Denali packed, offering the rest to Denali, and, after Denali refuses, to the horses, who gobble it up.

“We’ll be there soon, I promise,” Denali says.

Rosé nods, and Denali convinces herself the bluish tinge to Rosé’s lips is just a trick of the light, nudging the horses to go faster. They move through blinding snow and towering mountains, the whole world a page from the storybooks they used to read. She’ll be okay, Denali tells herself. Because if this is a story, it deserves a happy ending.

The horses dip into a valley, a small cottage tucked between the trees. Mountains loom in the background, and Denali knows this is the place. She feels at peace here somehow. Like the mountains will keep her safe, a cocoon around her.

“I kn–knew you you’d like it here,” Rosé says.

“I really do.”

“Shall we?” Rosé offers a shaky arm to Denali, and Denali pretends not to see how hurt Rosé is when she won’t take it. She knows how important touch is to Rosé, their childhood painted with Rosé grabbing her hand as they ran across the land, arms wrapping around her in a hug, all Rosé’s way of showing she was there. A language the two of them spoke that Denali no longer knows the words to.

The cabin door swings open after Denali knocks, and her heart soars at the fire crackling in the fireplace. Rosé collapses in front of it, soaking up the first warmth she’s had in a day, the warmth any human besides Denali could give her.

“You again.” A person emerges from the corner of the cottage, and for all the old healers in the stories, this woman is young, with pale skin and blonde hair.

“You remember her?” Denali asks.

“I do.” The blonde nods severely. “My name is Brooke, by the way.” She bustles about and wraps another blanket around Rosé, and Denali burns with jealousy at someone who can touch so easily, so mindlessly.

“Can you help her?” Denali asks desperately.

Brooke shakes her head.

“You didn’t even try!”

“I can sense what’s wrong with her, and I can’t fix it. I’m sorry.”

“But you fixed her before!”

Brooke sighs. “I was only fixing her head back then. But now the ice is too close to her heart, and that’s much harder to fix. The only thing that can save her is an act of true love.”

Denali shakes her head frantically. She can’t have come all this way just to be told the answer is unobtainable. “Isn’t there anything else that can fix her? Something I can actually find? I mean, I can’t just buy true love! What about a potion or something–”

“There’s nothing else. I’m sorry.” Brooke pauses. “I can tell you two things. The first is that you won’t have to look far to help her. The second is that you shouldn’t run from your feelings.”

Denali clenches her jaw. She came here to help Rosé, not have some woman she’s known for three minutes tell her what to do. “And if I don’t find it, she’ll–” Denali knows, because her mother had told her what would happen all those years ago. But knowing and accepting are two different things.

“She’ll freeze solid,” Brooke confirms, and Denali thinks maybe this won’t have a happy ending after all.

—

“W–what do we do now?” Rosé asks, hands on her knees. The walk to the carriage winded her, and each wheezing breath pierces Denali’s heart.

“I don’t know.” Denali doesn’t even know what to say. All this time she had a plan that couldn’t go wrong, a purpose to push her along and keep her focused. Now the plan is shot and her purpose has nothing to direct it. She can barely look away from how pale Rosé is, the blue of her lips unable to be explained away anymore, ice crystals clinging to her hair. “I guess … I guess we go back to the castle. See if someone there can help.” It sounds good, but it’s just an empty promise. Denali knows there won’t be any cure beyond what Brooke told her, and the lie is just as much for her benefit as Rosé’s.

Rosé nods, like she knows it’s a lie but doesn’t want to call Denali a liar. “Do you think we have time to do something first?”

Denali doesn’t, but Rosé smiles hopefully, and Denali can’t deny her anything. “What is it?”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

—

Denali looks down at her gloves. This whole time, they’ve been her armor, but in reverse–not to protect her, but to protect Rosé. Rosé can’t really be in worse shape than she’s in, but what if Denali accidentally speeds up the freezing, takes away whatever Rosé has left?

“You don’t have to use your powers,” Rosé says, like she’s reading her mind. “We’ll do it by hand. Not all of us are magic, you know.” Rosé laughs, and Denali knows she’s using every ounce of strength she has to do this, to be cheerful and have fun with Denali, and she won’t let her down.

“Let’s do it,” Denali says.

They build up the snow like they’re kids again, and Denali wants to stay inside this moment forever, a living snow globe, reliving it again and again with every shake. The snow clinging to Rosé’s eyelashes catching the sun and bathing her whole face in golden light. The smiles and laughs that come so easily Denali doesn’t have to think about them. The snow soft and bright and beautiful around them, an old friend welcoming them home.

But the snowglobe shatters when Rosé is hit with a burst of cold so bad it makes her whimper and curl into herself, and Denali knows they don’t have any time to waste in getting to the carriage.

“Denali?” Rosé’s voice is almost enough to stop Denali’s heart. “Denali, I can’t feel my legs.”

Denali turns around. A layer of solid ice covers Rosé’s boots and creeps toward her knees.

“No!” No, no, no. Denali runs to her, and before she stops herself, Rosé is in her arms. Denali holds her tight, squeezing her waist and lowering her gently to the ground. Denali curses herself and her stupid powers, wishing so badly she could take the ice away, take the pain away. All she can do is create more ice, create more cold and pain. “No, no, Rosie, please.”

“Shhh,” Rosè whispers, one shaking hand resting on Denali’s arm. “It’s okay.”

Denali lets out a strangled laugh, because Rosé is the one freezing over and Denali should be comforting her, not the other way around, but Rosé just can’t bear to see anyone hurting.

Rosé strokes Denali’s arm with her thumb, and this, more than anything, makes Denali truly sob. Because all this time, Denali’s been afraid to touch Rosé, been afraid of herself, but Rosé has never been afraid of her, not once in her life, and the gentle touch is a reminder that she never will be. A reminder that Denali doesn’t have to be afraid of herself either.

“I’m sorry, Rosie, I’m so sorry. Pl–please don’t go, please.”

Rosé hisses in a shaky breath as the ice hits her thighs. “Nali …”

“I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.” Denali can barely get the words past the lump in her throat. Hot tears roll down to her jacket, the only bit of warmth she’ll probably have again. She can feel how cold Rosé is even through their layers, but she doesn’t let go. She can’t let go. She couldn’t give Rosé the touch she desperately wanted all this time, but she’s giving it to her now, and nothing can make her stop.

“Denali.” Rosé coughs sharply, looking up at Denali with glassy eyes. “Denali, I–I love you. I love you so much. Is it okay if I kiss you before–”

Denali leans down and presses their lips together. Rosé is shaking uncontrollably but Denali holds her steady, keeps her together. Her own heart is pounding and she can feel Rosé’s through her lips, a sign that she’s still alive, still has some warmth coursing through her. Her lips carry the chill of a blizzard but are still soft beneath Denali’s, soft and loving and caressing her own the gentle way Rosé herself would.

When the lips beneath hers harden, Denali knows Rosie is gone.

She pulls herself away, forcing herself to look down at the woman in her arms. Rosé is frozen solid, an ice sculpture so real, so beautiful, that no human would ever be able to recreate it. Denali won’t let go of her, because beneath the ice is someone who was kissing her, breathing, living, just seconds ago, and to let her go would be to abandon her, to prove that Rosé really is gone.

“I’m sorry, Rosie.” Denali’s tears trail down over them both. “I’m sorry. You were–you were the best friend I ever had, and you make me–you make me so happy. Rosie, I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry I told you too late.”

The words feel right after she says them, like they’ve been looming beneath her ice for years, waiting to be let out. Denali’s loved her for a while, she realizes. Some part of her had always known, the part that would forever treasure Rosé and call out to her. Denali just had to let herself feel it. Every ounce of those feelings swell in her now, the love and devotion and affection she denied herself for so long. All she can do is hold Rosé and cry, wishing she had told her sooner, so that Rosé would have known she was loved before she was gone.

It takes Denali a while to notice that her cheeks are dry. Her mind struggles to process it, because she’s still crying, but she can’t feel the dampness on her cheeks.

She takes a breath, and she realizes Rosé is wiping her tears away.

“Please don’t cry,” Rosé whispers. “Look.” She carefully tips Denali’s head down to look at her, and instead of the frozen woman she expects to see, the ice is melting into the snow underneath.

Rosé is melting.

Her hair has returned to its brilliant soft red, even the old streak gone, like the wounds from their past have fully healed. The color is coming back to her cheeks, a smile coming with it.

“How are you–” She lowers a hand to Rosé’s face to test that she’s really here, but stops halfway. Rosé grabs her hand and rests it there herself, and Denali gives in, cupping Rosé’s cheek and feeling her warmth.

“I told you you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I love you,” Denali says.

“I love you too.”

An act of true love, Denali realizes. Just as her ice had frozen Rosé, it was her love that thawed her.

Denali leans down to kiss her again, and even though she knows they have to return home, that she has to fix the mess she left behind, she has Rosé in her arms, now and forever, and she’s never going to let go.

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #frozen au #fluff #hurt/comfort #mild angst #s13 #athena2 #tw mild injury #concrit welcome #submission

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