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#He gets called 'stranger' and 'outsider' until he's able to write his name down
ace-trainguys · 2 years
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Whumptober day 25 - prompt is lost voice.
Imagine how much tougher of a time Ingo would have if he lost his voice in addition to his memories. His main way of expressing himself is through speech - without it, he’s an unapproachable silent, stoic man. Very few in the Pearl Clan would be willing to interact with him.
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retrievablememories · 7 months
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cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)
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pairing: jungkook x fem reader
summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.
genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au
word count: 13.7k
warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling
a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now
...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below
taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it
sources for the fic dividers: one | two
link to part 1
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you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.
jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.
a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"
yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”
“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.
“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.
yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?
“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”
“the fuck are you talking about?”
“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”
“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”
yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”
feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”
“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.
yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”
you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.
“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.
even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.
the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.
“i think i should sleep here,” he says.
“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.
“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”
“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”
jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”
“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.
“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”
“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”
“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”
after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”
you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”
--
SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4
you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.
you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.
you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.
as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.
you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.
it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.
➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.
➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.
➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.
➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.
➤ y/n: a lockdown???
looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”
“tryna get the remote.”
jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.
➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.
you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.
you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”
➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?
➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.
➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.
➤ camille: You too.
“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”
you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”
“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”
“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”
“better than deluding yourself about it.”
“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”
jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”
wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”
jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”
later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.
it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.
“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.
“what about me and jungkook?”
“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”
you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.
“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”
you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”
yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.
the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.
“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”
when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.
“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”
“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”
“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”
“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”
you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.
yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”
“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”
yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”
you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”
yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.
“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”
“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”
“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.
the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.
you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.
you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.
the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.
there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.
“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.
there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.
but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?
you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.
speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.
“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”
“no, i…”
“what happened?”
“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”
“y/n.”
“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”
“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”
“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”
jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”
you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”
“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.
“…a baseball bat?”
“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”
“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.
in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.
he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.
--
MONDAY, NOV 6
you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.
you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.
right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.
eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.
jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”
“night, sis.”
when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.
after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.
“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”
jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”
“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”
you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.
this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”
“so damn corny.”
you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.
as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”
you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.
neither of you speak for a few long moments.
“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.
“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”
you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”
“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.
“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”
he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”
your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.
“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.
here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”
jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”
you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.
“jungkook…”
“hm?”
“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.
jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”
“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.
“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”
you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”
his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”
“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.
“ugh, don’t turn me off.”
“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.
jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.
when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.
jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.
“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.
“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.
he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”
you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.
jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.
after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.
“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.
“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.
he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”
“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.
“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.
you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”
“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.
it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.
eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.
your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.
“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.
“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.
jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.
you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.
his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.
when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.
“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”
jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”
“that’s not an answer.”
“well, it’s my answer.”
“was i another one to knock off your list?”
“you think i have a list?”
“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”
jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”
you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”
--
TUESDAY, NOV 7
with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.
she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.
but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.
she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.
what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.
the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.
he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.
he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”
“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.
the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.
“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.
“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”
now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.
“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.
leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”
“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”
“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.
lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”
“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.
it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.
“now, be still while i fix you up.”
--
WEDNESDAY, NOV 8
you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.
you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.
inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.
you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.
there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”
you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.
there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.
--
SUNDAY, NOV 12
in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.
you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.
lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.
when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.
jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.
“is it finished?” he asks.
“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”
you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”
“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.
you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.
“y/n…”
“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”
“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”
“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.
“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.
you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.
the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.
jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.
“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"
“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"
“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”
you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.
“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.
you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.
fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”
the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”
you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”
“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”
--
FRIDAY, NOV 17
jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.
nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.
your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.
jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.
“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.
“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”
“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”
“y/n—” camille starts.
“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.
“what?”
“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.
“blood?”
“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.
you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”
one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”
“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.
“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.
her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.
“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”
“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.
“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”
you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”
as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.
“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.
you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”
“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”
“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”
“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”
you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.
--
LYING IN WAIT...
it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.
the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.
there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.
reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.
everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.
up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.
sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.
camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”
“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”
“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”
“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”
camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”
“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.
--
WEDNESDAY, NOV 22
“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.
you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”
“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.
“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”
“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.
camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.
“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.
you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.
the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.
“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.
there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.
the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”
even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.
“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.
he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”
your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.
the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.
not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”
through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”
jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”
“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.
yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.
you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”
“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.
you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.
“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”
you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.
“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”
“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.
yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”
you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”
“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”
jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”
he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”
“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”
jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:
you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.
you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.
you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.
you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.
“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.
trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.
your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.
these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.
“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.
you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.
you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.
you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.
he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.
“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”
it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.
“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.
this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.
you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.
“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.
you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.
you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.
you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.
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bellaramseysgf · 2 years
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Play Along (B.H)
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Warning(s); mentions of drinking alcohol,smoking,creep,Billy being a sweetheart,kissing.
Pairing(s); Billy Hargrove X (Afab) Fem! Reader
Summary; you turn to a stranger when a creep won’t leave you alone.
A/n; just so we are clear I write a non-racist Billy. I write him as much in character as possible but understand I know his character did wrong things but I don’t write him that way. If you don’t like it just move on. Thank you.
You were getting annoyed,frustrated even. You started a conversation with a guy who seemed nice but you quickly realized he was a misogynistic,creepy, asshole. You scanned the bar trying to think of a way out of this situation because the guy wasn’t shutting up. You decided maybe If you just said you wanted to dance he’d leave you alone. You hadn’t been on the floor for more then 15 minutes when you caught the man staring.
You went to the bathroom not that long after and he was in a different spot one where he could see the bathrooms, he moved with you wherever you went always in a spot where he could see you. You were scared to leave at this point and when you caught him walking your way you turned to the guy closest to you.
“Excuse me” you spoke softly urging him to turn around from his few friends. He was rather attractive a pair of baby blue eyes that enticed the fuck out of you. He wore a pair of jeans and a red button up the top few buttons undone, a cigarette hung from his lips his curly blonde hair shaped his face. “This is gonna sound weird and I’m sorry but there’s this creep and-”
“Where?” He questioned and you nodded behind you the man’s eyes set on someone and he narrowed them. As if he read your mind his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him in a almost protective way. He stepped around you so you were next to the bar and he was on the outside where people walked by. His friends were a mix of obvious drunks and a few sober people. You remember one of them from high school but he didn’t seem to remember you so you left it be.
His friends went back to chatting with him and he would blow a puff of smoke every few minutes. You could still feel the guys eyes on you and you visibly tensed when you heard his voice behind you calling your name. The man who was helping you turned to look back before spinning around keeping his arm locked on your waist as his friends stood up standing behind him. It was like that were screaming at the guy to try him. Try you. To try to Fucking graze your skin.
“Can I help you?” He asked followed by a puff of smoke. “Oh, I was just talking to her earlier that’s all” he glanced between you and the man next to you. “Didn’t realize she had a boyfriend” he commented and your helper chuckled sitting the cig between his lips and holding out his hand. “Billy Hargrove, nice to meet you” the man just eyed his held out hand until he retracted it.
“Well what did you want?” Billy asked a little bit more bite to his tone. “Just to talk” you shrugged and turned into Billy’s hold as if you were cold. “She doesn’t wanna talk so, bye” he shoed the guy off with his hand. “You said you came alone..” the guy said and you just kept your head turned away as if you didn’t hear him. “Yeah, she did but then I showed up so she’s not alone. Did you not here me? She doesn’t wanna talk, pal.” The guy went to talk again and Billy interrupted “if you don’t walk away soon you won’t be able to. Get the picture big guy? Good.Bye.”
Billy leaned down and kissed the top of your head as if to show that he was comforting you. The guy reluctantly left and you finally looked up at Billy. “Thank you.” He hummed “you alright sweetheart? Want me to walk you to your car?” You shook your head “my friend drove me so I’ll just call a cab” Billy put the butt of his cigarette out in one of the trays and shook his head. “I’ll give you a ride. Where do you need to go?” He was already leading you out before you protested.
You instructed him where to go and felt oddly safe inside a complete strangers car. “Nice car” you commented and he smiled “ah, thanks. You live close to one of my friends” you smiled “oh yeah? Who?” Billy almost bit his tongue “Harrington?” He proposed and you thought for a minute “Harrington….uhm who?” He sighed “Steve? Steve Harrington” you shrugged “I’ve no clue who that is”
Billy couldn’t tell if you were just messing with him or if you were being completely honest. How could you not know who’s Steve Harrington is though? Everyone knew him.
as Billy passed his house he nodded out “that’s the Harrington’s” “ohhh! Them? Oh yeah no we don’t talk to them” Billy was intrigued now as he pulled into your driveway. “Why not?” “Well, his mom likes to flirt with my dad. Not to mention I’m assuming Steve is their son?” You paused for Billy to nod “yeah he used to Bully me when I was younger. Throw balls at me and shit” Billy chuckled quietly and you sat there for a minute.
“You going inside?” You nodded “just trying to figure out how I’m gonna explain to my parents why I’m stumbling in drunk at 4am “eh, I just tell them to fuck off and walk past them” you let out a soft giggle which makes Billy smile. “Thank you again for your help. You’re a good guy Billy” he nods in reply and you slip out of his car.
He sat to watch you get inside but you turned around heading back to his car. He rolled own his window “what’s wrong? Can’t get in?” You shook your head and dipped your head down into the window. You pressed your lips against his, it was soft and slow and it made butterflies erupt in your tummy. He tasted of cigarettes and oddly enough cherry chapstick, once you finally pulled away “thanks Hargrove, I’ll see you around” and with that you hopped off back inside.
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tayrcse · 6 months
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Habits I Can’t Break
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✎ series summary: Rafe never intended to fall in love with you. I mean, you were just his client/fuck-buddy, right? What happens when he realizes you’re more than that?
✎ chapter summary: Pushing you away didn’t work. But will pulling you closer destroy the both of you?
✎ warnings: violence, swearing, non-sexual nudity, drugs, slight angst
✎ characters: Rafe Cameron
✎ word count: 763
✎ tags: @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeysbae
✎ author’s note: Sorry for the delay with this part, I’ve been having really bad writer’s block lately. I’ll have to do some research on drug withdrawals before writing the next part but just know it’s gonna get intense 😬
series masterlist
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You stand in shock as Rafe beats the stranger to a pulp. “Rafe! Stop!” You yell, breaking out of your trance. He doesn’t listen to you, continuing his assault on the man. “Rafe!” You try again, grabbing his arm as he winds back in preparation for the next punch. He stops this time, glancing back at you. “You’re killing him!” You plead with Rafe.
“Why do you care?” He spits out, pulling his arm from your grip.
“You don’t need anymore blood on your hands, Rafe.” You say sternly.
Rafe scoffs but turns away from the man. Without another word, he grabs your arm and starts pulling you toward the door. You’re too stunned to resist.
“What the hell are you doing?” You demand once you and Rafe get outside.
Rafe lets go of your arm and spins around to face you. “What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing?”
“I was having fun before you showed up.”
“I thought I already told you, (Y/N). This shit isn’t fun.” You roll your eyes at his words. Rafe notices, and his eyes visibly darken. “Drop the attitude,” he says through gritted teeth.
You ignore him, instead saying, “Why the hell do you care what I do with my life?”
“I know you’re high as fuck, but you’re smart enough to know the answer to that,” he replied, stepping closer to you until you’re breathing the same air.
Rafe stares at you intently and doesn’t miss when your eyes flicker down to his lips. He sighs, realizing that he’s already losing your attention.
“Come on, we’re leaving,” Rafe says abruptly, reaching for your hand.
“But you just got here,” you whine. He ignores you as he guides you to his truck, making sure you got in and buckled the seat belt before walking to the driver’s side of the car. You’re leaning your head against the cool window when he settles behind the wheel. You don’t notice the melancholy look on Rafe’s face as he starts the car. And you definitely don’t notice the way his hand twitches, almost reaching out to hold yours again.
The drive back to Rafe’s place is silent, neither of you knowing what to say to the other.
“We’re here,” Rafe finally says as he puts the truck in park. You look out the window at the house you had become so familiar with. An ache settles in your chest as you realize how much you had missed coming to this house every night. You realized how much you missed him.
Rafe glances over at you before opening the door and stepping out of the truck. Walking over to your side of the truck, he carefully opens the door, making sure you aren’t leaning against the window before he does. You barely register him leaning over you to unbuckle your seat belt, the drugs in your system taking over. Rafe sighs when he sees that your eyes are closed, realizing that there was no way you were going to be able to walk inside let alone upstairs. Your head lolls on his shoulder as he picks you up bridal style and carries you inside, up the stairs, and into his room.
Rafe lays you gently on his bed before going to his dresser and pulling out one of his shirts. Moving toward your figure on his bed, he calls your name softly, wondering if you’re still awake. He doesn’t get much of reply, a string of incoherent words falling from your lips.
“You gotta help me out here, sweetheart,” he says desperately, knowing you don’t understand a word he’s saying. Resigning himself to his fate, he lifts your arms over your head, slipping off the crop top you had been wearing along with your black, lace bra. He carefully pulls the shirt he had gotten onto your body, trying his hardest not to look at your chest. When his shirt was comfortably resting on your sleeping frame, he moves to remove your jeans as well. His shirt is big enough on you for it to reach your mid-thigh, hiding your most intimate spot from his eyes.
Finished with his task, Rafe takes a moment to admire your peaceful face. He never noticed how you constantly looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders until he saw you like this. For once, the demons that haunted you gave you a reprieve. Brushing your hair out of your face, he makes a promise to himself and to you.
“You’re not alone anymore.”
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realisticjupiter · 5 days
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heyy! I just miss your writing ;) so i'm here to ask for drunk chishiya who suddenly comes to the reader's house at midnight and relieves his stress on her? (can be fluff or smut, you decide)
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ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: a drunk chishiya waking you up in the middle of the night, was definitely the last thing you'd guess.
ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader
ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff
ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: drunk!chishiya , lmk if anything else
ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 850
A/N: okay listen . . . I might've gotten a bit off track. BUT, I kind of like it?!! I also decided on fluff since he's drunk but, hey, I'm down for a pt2 if you are!!
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Lost in a daze of sleep, peaceful and calm as you shut your eyes and allowed yourself to fall into the void of darkness people called sleep.
That was all interrupted by the loud banging of the front door. Your first thought was to ignore it; it was in the middle of the night and you couldn't be bothered.
But it didn't just stop the first time, it happened again, and once more before you finally--and annoyingly, got up from bed to see who could be so inconsiderate.
When you opened your door, you fully expected it to be some stranger, or someone informing you of some terrible news that was so important that it couldn't wait until morning.
You definitely didn't expect it to be Chishiya.
The white haired man standing outside your door, his hair disheveled and his dark eye bags visible under the moonlight. It wasn't just out of character for him to be standing outside your door, but you could smell the stench on his clothing; he was drunk.
"Chishiya?" Your voice was soft from the past action of your interrupted sleep, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand as you tried to decipher what was in front of you.
"Can I come in?" Chishiya muttered with a broken tone, his gaze never meeting your eyes as he stood there; unsure of what to do with himself.
"Uh--i guess..." You replied, taking a step to the side as a confused look found its way onto your face. "What are you doing here?" You asked as you watched him walk past you, his unsteady balance becoming obvious with each step.
"I don't usually drink..." He whispered to himself, his palms pressing into his eyes as if he was trying to pop them back into his skull. Doing anything to get this feeling he had to go away.
"Yeah, I know. You never saw a point in it, at least--that's what you told me." You shrugged, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He won't be able to bring himself home walking around like that..
"I don't!" Chishiya's voice was far more stern when he spoke, his head turned towards you as he did so. He didn't have much time to react to himself, just standing there like some type of horror movie.
"Okay.." You nodded, trying your best to keep a soft tone. "Everything okay?" You finally asked, taking small steps towards him. You felt like you were walking on eggshells. You've never seen him drunk, hell--you don't even think he's ever been drunk. You had no idea how he'd act in this state, and you were almost afraid to find out.
"No, everything's not okay. You think I'd be drunk if they were?" His words were sharp, digging into every spot his mouth could hold.
"You're right." You nodded, stopping a foot in front of him. "What's not okay, Shuntaro?" Your words came out in a whisper this time, you wanted him to feel more comfortable. Switching his name was a way of telling him that he could be, at least you hoped that's how he'd take it.
"I don't want to be drunk anymore." He groaned, his eyes moved away from you to aim behind your body. Spotting the couch under the dim light that casted from behind the curtains.
He didn't hesitate to walk past you and towards the comfortable couch that was calling his name.
"Chi--Shuntaro." You called out for him, not doing much as he sat down but quickly changed positions to spread his body across it.
You honestly felt bad for Chishiya. It must've been really bad if he felt the need to break the promise he had on himself. You almost felt glad that he didn't like being drunk, but you were also afraid if it happened again--he'd come to enjoy it.
"How do I make it go away?" He asked, his tone had completely changed. He sounded sincere, like he truly needed an answer or he'd go more insane than he already has.
You sighed walking towards him, stopping at the head of the couch to look down on him. "Get some rest, you'll probably wake up with an undeniable urge to throw your brains out. Bathroom is down the hall." You tried to be humorous with your words, but it was obvious he wasn't having it.
"I forgot about hangovers." He mumbled, turning his head to face the head of the couch. Like a child finding comfort in the small spaces, that's the only way to describe what pushing yourself into the crevice of the couch felt like.
"Mhm, they're different for everyone. Just go to sleep, you can actually talk to me in the morning." You suggested, grabbing the throw blanket from on top of the couch to lay on top of him.
"I'm serious. You better still be here when I wake up." You whispered, his body having no response as you walked back to your room--soft breathing following the body laid in your living room.
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reposts and comments are appreciated <3
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mistywaves98 · 2 years
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This was bouncing around in my head for a long time so here it is!
Wonderland AU!
Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!
Genshin Impact x Alice! Reader Wonderland AU
¡Warnings!: Dubcon, Non consensual drugging, fingering, all the characters just want to fuck you really, not a lot of warnings for this one!
Reblogs are greatly appreciated!
I got unmotivated to finish it off and I rushed the end T_T I'll do a part two if you guys want lol
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Yae Miko as the Cheshire Cat!
The first character you meet in this strange world. After falling down the rabbit hole you found yourself in a dark forest. Lost and confused, you tried to examine your surroundings before making any decisions. That's when you hear a teasing voice from the trees,"Well well well~ What do we have here? A little girl lost in the forest with no idea of how she even got there? Quite unfortunate, don't you think?"
Your eyes are darting all over the place, trying to locate the source of the voice. Just then, a pair of purple eyes appear above a particular branch. You stare in shock for a moment until you see the rest of her body appear."Do you know how I can get back home?" You would ask. She simply grins at your helpless form.
"I only know how to exit this certain forest my dear~" "Then tell me how to do that!" "Everything comes at a price, as they say. If you want to leave, give me something in return first..." "Well, what do you want?" "You."
You're stunned. Surely she doesn't mean it like that, does she? "And yes, I do mean it like that." There's your answer. You're rather reluctant, but it's just a one time thing, besides, you would rather have sex with a stranger and then be able to go home than to not do it and be stuck in this forest forever.
"Have you decided?" "Y-yes, just. Be gentle." "Very well then, I'll take good care of you. And, one more thing. My name is Yae Miko, but just call me Yae."
Suddenly, she's in front of you, pushing your fragile body against one of the many barks surrounding you both. Your skirt is hiked up and panties pushed aside. Two of Yae's long fingers enter your cunt and slowly pump in and out. You grip onto her arms tightly, whimpers and gasps escaping your lips.
Yae quickens her pace, scissoring you. Her free hand travels up your shirt, under your bra and begins groping your chest, taking your nipple between her fingers and twisting it, eliciting a sharp moan from you. She smirks before tugging on it, causing you to cry out slightly. "Y-yae—!"
This goes on for a while. You've cum about 3 times now. Suddenly, Yae pulls out her fingers. You pant heavily while Yae admires your glistening juices on her fingers. You think it's over but, you are so wrong.
Venti as the Mad Hatter!
You wake up to find yourself outside of the forest. "What a relief!" You think, but what's this? Your clothes are good as new too. You then remembered the little, favour, you had to give in return for this. A tint of red spread across your cheeks at the memory.
Shaking your head, you look around once more to see where to go next. You suddenly saw a sign, 'Mad Hatter' it read. You followed the sign, hoping to meet whoever this 'Mad Hatter' was and ask him if he knew how you could go home.
After walking for a while, you came across what looked to be a gate. As you drew closer, you began to hear something. It sounded like, singing?
Upon entering the assumed-to-be-a garden you were met with a long table. There were an unusual amount of teapots and teacups. But what had to be even more strange, was all the mice. It nearly seemed as if they were guests. There were also two people there.
One of them had a tophat lined with daisies. He was wearing a teal and turquoise tuxedo. His hair was also dark blue, braided into two, each on either side of his face. The other person had blonde hair that had been made up into two curly ponytails. She had on a white and blue dress with goldish linings and trimmings.
The boy was happily singing as he poured tea into the teacups surrounding him while the girl hummed along. You cleared your throat to get there attention. The pair immediately stopped what they were doing and looked at you. The boy suddenly smiled,"Ah! What is this I see? A beauty like you has come to join in on our tea party?"
"Actually, I just want to know if you knew how I could get back home? You see I'm not from here and I—" "You're not from here you say? Well, the only person who can help you is the queen I'm afraid, but before you go, you simply must have a seat and share some fine tea with us!"
You awkwardly took a seat, thinking that perhaps you really could do with a small meal before you go to see this, queen. "The name's Venti by the way! The girl is my good friend Barbara! May we have the pleasure in knowing your name, milady?" "Y/N." "Such a lovely name!" Barbara suddenly exclaimed," Here's some chocolate chip cookies, I made them myself!"
You had to admit, the cookies were the best you had ever eaten. Whilst eating, you realized Venti seemed to be staring at you a lot, suddenly, he leaned over to Barbara suddenly whispered something in her ear. You saw her cheeks go pink but you brushed it off.
"Y/N, taste this one, we usually make this particular cookie for special guests," Venti said, handing you a cookie. You bit into it with no hesitation. For some reason, though it looked like the others, it had a different flavor; a tiny bit of spice, which was odd.
You noticed the two of them were looking at you intensely. It made you uneasy and you began shifting your gaze on other things. Wait. Where were the mice? Barbara then excused herself. You caught a glimpse of the dark blush on her face. Something was not right.
Just then, your southern regions began to feel funny. Like a fire was rising inside of you. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to sooth it. Venti noticed and chuckled,"Heh heh. How are you feeling Y/N? Why is your face so red?" His smirk screamed mischief. Did he have something to do with this?
"U-Uh, i-it's nothing. R-really—" "I wouldn't be so sure about that~ You're blushing pretty hard right now you know~" Bastard! He knew what he was doing! There must've been something in that cookie you ate!
You clenched your jaw tightly, the wetness between your legs was growing by the second. You weren't sure how much longer you could take it. You needed to be touched.
And Venti knew it. Of course he was the one who told Barbara to put the aphrodisiac in the cookie he offered you. And Barbara, being the good friend she was, played along too, making sure to excuse herself at the right moment.
"Are you feeling needy~ Want some help with that~? Is that a yes? Say no more~"
And that's how you end up on the ground, getting pounded into at such a fast and rough pace, you swear you're seeing stars. All the while Venti's whispering sweet things in your ears, that you're taking him so well, that it's gonna be over soon, don't be scared he won't cum inside as much as he wants to.
At one point you find yourself blacking out once again. It's almost as if it's a pattern or something.....
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mlmxreader · 2 years
Text
Good Boy | Dan Torrance x M!reader (🍋)
@foxhybridargentmikaelson asked: hi, love your writing. wondering if i could request some danny torrance smut with a male reader and posssible daddy kink if your comfortable writing that.
summary: you and Dan get a very rare night out, and you’re determined to make the absolute most of it in every way that you can 
tws: Daddy kink, anal sex, anal fingering mention, a little bit of masturbation, praise kink, choking kink, a little bit of spanking, mentions of smoking 
word count: 1540
THIS FIC IS NOT FOR MINORS, IF YOURE UNDER 18, YOU'LL BE BLOCKED
You had known Dan for years, ever since he moved into the neighbourhood and had started to attend the local AA meetings; working as the local vet, you pretty much knew everyone around, and you were quick to make yourself known to the new and handsome stranger who worked at the hospice. But while things started as platonic, little outings to the coffee shop here, helping him and Billy and John to organise pride events around town, things did slowly turn to something much more; Dan was too shy to make the first move, but he was pleasantly surprised when, during one of Azzie's regular health checks, you asked him if the relationship could become something more.
Years later and you were still just as happy as you had been during those first few months; Dan had moved in with you a while ago, and while his work and your work kept you both busy, the days off were always splendid. Your dog, Cujo, a great big Saint Bernard who you had gotten from a rescue centre, would laze around in the garden during sunny days while you and Dan sat outside and talked; on colder days, Cujo would curl up by the nearest radiator while you and Dan huddled up together in bed and watched awful horror films until the middle of the night.
Tonight, though, a friend of yours had offered to look after the dog for the night so that you and Dan could head out of town and have a proper date night away from every and any worry or care; you had gone to a fancy restaurant, some place called Dorsia, in the next town over after some bickering about where to go and what to eat - but it was nice. The soft yellow lighting mixed well with the deep red walls and the soft dark carpet, the food was amazing and the quiet chatter was hardly overwhelming like it was anywhere else; conversation flowed easily and without a care between the two of you, although every now and then you fell into a lovely and comfortable silence - just holding hands across the table, showing him memes on your phone every now and then that made him shake his head as he smiled.
But then you went to a fancy hotel, and you couldn't keep your hands off of him; Dan was quick to pin you against the wall, your hands buried in his hair and his arms resting either side of your head, his hips grinding against yours. When you let out a soft moan of his name, he smiled, able to feel your cock hard against him; with your mouth open, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, making you shudder and tug at the soft brown strands.
Eventually, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before he gently pushed himself a little further, just enough so that he could see your eyes; his head tilted to the side, he could feel how heated your face was. 
“Where do you want to take this?” He asked softly, gently running his finger along your jaw as he swallowed thickly. “We can do whatever you want, (y/n).” 
“I want you to fuck me,” you replied, “but… be gentle this time, please?”
“Of course,” Dan agreed without hesitation. “I can be as gentle or as rough as you want. Where’d you wanna do it?”
“On the bed, with you laid down,” you whispered, nearly grinning as you ran a hand through his hair. 
Dan let out a soft growl, a little too eager as he let his hand travel down to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze as he smiled. “Go get ready. I’ll wait for you.” 
Dan didn’t need to think about it, he knew that when you went off into the bathroom, you were making sure that your ass was nice and lubed up for him, and that you were using your fingers to make sure that you were stretched enough as well; he bit the inside of his lip, a little more hungry now, as he thought about how you were stretching that pretty hole with your fingers, probably leaking a little precum as you got harder, more needy. He couldn’t resist it, making quick work of stripping himself and getting onto the bed, propped up with his back against the headboard and a pillow behind his neck, his hand going to his cock as he started to stroke himself, using his own precum to make sure his cock was a little more slick. He stopped, his hand still wrapped around his cock, when you came out of the bathroom; all lubed up and ready for him, making him groan softly as he used his free hand to beckon for you to come over. 
“Come to Daddy.” 
You grinned, trying not to act as eager as you felt, making your way over and straddling his thighs, replacing the hand on his cock with your own as you licked your lips. “You ready?”
“Are you?” He asked, putting a hand on your hip as he frowned a little. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Very,” you nodded, running a hand through his hair gently. “You?”
“More than,” Dan chuckled, moaning softly when you lined his cock up with your asshole and slowly, teasingly, sank down on it, his head going back as he looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, fuck… you feel so good…” 
“I keep forgetting how big you are,” you groaned, starting to move your hips as you leaned forward enough to capture his lips, a shuddering whimper drawn from the back of your throat when he wrapped his hand around it, his other hand going round to your ass and slapping it. “Oh, fuck, Daddy!” 
He was gentle, though, as he had promised, his movements slow but not teasing, wanting to feel every inch of you as his hands went from your throat and your ass to your chest, to your shoulders, your back. Exploring every inch of your body as much as he could while you put your hands on his chest and your mouth on his; but when he pulled away, he smiled, and he grabbed your hips. 
“You like it when Daddy fucks you gently?” His voice was a little breathless, a little hoarse as he tried not to fuck you the way he usually did. He wanted to be gentle, wanted to be soft and tender. 
“Yes,” you breathed out, nodding and letting out one of those absolutely stunning soft moans that he loved to hear so much. “Don’t stop, Daddy, please.” 
“You’ve been so good for me lately,” he praised softly, gently wrapping his hand around your throat again, although this time, he didn’t squeeze it, he simply let his fingers rest on your flesh. He could feel your pulse, racing and rapid, a pounding and harsh vibration against his fingertips. “You’ve been so fucking good, you’re always so fucking good for Daddy.” 
He kept praising you as he thrust and rocked his hips, filling your ass up so wonderfully that you couldn’t help but to let out the most guttural and animalistic of moans, the slapping of skin filling the air and mixing with his words so much and so beautifully that it made your head spin a little, the feeling of his hands around your throat and knowing that at any second he could squeeze it the way you liked it; it was all getting too much, and you knew that you weren’t going to last long at all. 
“Daddy, I wanna cum, please.” 
“You can cum with me,” Dan growled, not quite squeezing your throat as he brought you forward again, kissing you so harshly that you almost wondered if your lips would bruise, but you nevertheless melted into it. 
A smile coming to your lips when he pushed his tongue between your lips, and dared to apply just enough pressure to your throat; you could have sworn that everything outside of Dan ceased to exist as you moaned, breathlessly, against his lips and let yourself go. Your cum splattering across his skin as you whimpered, begging for him to fuck his cum into you when you felt the warmth of it start to fill your ass; Dan wasn’t exactly one to say no to such a thing, wanting to lay his claim on you as much as he could, and he continued to rock his hips, little moans of your name leaving his mouth that soon turned to whimpers. You got off of him, smiling as you kissed him again. 
“I love you, Torrance.” 
“I love you, too,” he hummed, running a hand through his hair and licking his lips. “Cigarette and a shower?”
“Sounds good to me,” you agreed with a smile. “You wanna shower together?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Why not? We haven’t done it in a while… you wanna wash my hair?”
“I can do that,” you shrugged, kissing the tip of his nose. “You wanna roll? My tobacco and shit’s in my coat pocket.” 
“Sure,” Dan chuckled. “Did you remember to bring filters this time?”
“I did, don’t worry.” 
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strawwritesfic · 2 years
Text
Terra x Female!Keyblade Knight!Reader: Only Fools
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Summary: ...would spend their lives listening to the advice of fools.
Rating/Tags: T (Major character deaths; set during canon events of Birth By Sleep; not canon compliant; italicized flashbacks; Aqua & Reader; Ventus & Reader; Master Eraqus & Reader; Terra & Ventus & Aqua)
Fic Trade Prompt: “General Advice”
Notes: This was my very first ever fic trade response. The word count limit was 5000, and back then I actually listened to that instead of writing as long as I needed to write the story I wanted to tell. That’s probably part of why this is kind of bare bones compared to other stuff I’ve written. I would actually go as far as to say it’s not good. I was very inexperienced back then. Even after editing it in 2022, I don’t feel like much in the way of improvements have been made. Hey, here’s a tip past!me: Characters can do more interesting things than look. Find yourself some better verbs.
Tag List: @imaginesfire​
Only Fools
Everything around you shook: your arms, your legs, the milky stars, the keyblade that carried you through the forsaken expanse of nothing between worlds. Your vision would have been shaking, too, except for the fact that your eyes were closed. They had to be. If you kept them open for any amount of time, the tears rushed forth at once, trailing forcefully down your cheeks until they fell, twinkling, to who knew where. 
Not you. You didn’t know anything anymore.
Behind you lay the smoking remains of the world you once called home. Before you lay…well, you weren’t sure yet. At that moment, it seemed like a whole lot of darkness, the same thing you’d been looking at (when your eyesight cleared enough) for the past hour. Every now and then, a shudder pressed its way up your spine at the thought of what you could have been looking at, if you hadn’t figured out how to transform your keyblade in time. But it was too late for your master, too late for the Land of Departure...
******
“And here is where you will be staying.” The dark haired man opened a door and gestured through the open entryway. 
You stepped inside the room before him to look around at the bare walls and plain bed. Even after spotting those, you continued to blink around. You’d been expecting something a little more...interesting after hearing everything that learning to be a Keyblade Knight would entail.
“Alright,” you finally managed to say. “Thank you.”
Master Eraqus nodded. “You will begin your training tomorrow. It is a long path, [Name], and not one to be taken lightly.”
“I know.”
“Good.” He turned back toward the hall, making to shut the door. “Do not stay up too late. You are expected in the dining hall no later than five tomorrow morning.”
He disappeared. Silence reigned in your tiny room, interrupted only by the occasional soft chirping of crickets outside your open window. The closed door also blocked out any light thrown inside by the hallway. Now you were plunged into darkness. You waited until you heard Master Eraqus’s footsteps fading away, then let out a shaky breath as you set both your bag and yourself on the bed.
“Hey.”
You must have jumped about a foot in the air and screamed, too, at the sound of this new voice, because when you finally spotted an unfamiliar boy at your window, he appeared highly amused.
“Woah, woah. Is that any way for a future Keyblade Knight to act?” he asked, grinning.
“I haven’t started training yet,” you said as you looked at him. There was a lantern on the pathway not far from the window, so you were able to see his messy brown hair and blue eyes. “And who are you?”
“Terra. You must be the new girl the Master was talking about.”
“[Name],” you said slowly. It wasn’t really part of your upbringing to believe that talking to random strangers at open windows at night was a good thing, but Terra seemed genuinely…there. “I’m [Name].”
“Yep, that’s the one. Welcome.”
“Um. Thanks. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Well, um. I should get to unpacking.” 
He nodded, and, taking this to mean he was leaving, you started to look in earnest for a lamp inside. The outside lantern was doing nothing for you. So when Terra spoke once more, you nearly jumped out of your skin again:
“But seriously, you want some advice?”
“Yes?”
“Go to bed now. Master was serious when he said you had to be up before five.”
You had been afraid of that.
******
Your fingers clenched around the brightly-colored glass flower sitting in the palm of your hand. 
“Terra…” you murmured as you squeezed your eyes shut tighter. “Where are you?” 
You still didn’t understand: Aqua and Terra leaving, Ventus running away, Master Eraqus’s expression when the last came home. Everything happened so fast, too fast, and then your master was dead and your two friends were gone once more.
Just as your brain skittered around the unpleasant image of a broken body on the grass, a bright light shone through your eyelids. Blinded even with that small shield to protect you, you managed a quick peek before whatever it was enveloped you. The light grew stronger and stronger; you were forced to close your eyes again. Two seconds later, a plummeting sensation filled your stomach. Your eyes snapped open to see dried earth rushing toward you.
You pulled out at the very last minute, but momentum sent you flying forward off your vehicle anyway. Wincing, you sailed across the ground. 
Of course you’d scratch your armor the first time you wore it away from home. You stood and brushed yourself off before allowing the protective covering to disappear. Then you made a mental note to ask Master Eraqus to teach you the finer points of landing when you got home.
Your heart sank as you remembered: There was no going home, no more practicing for your Mark of Mastery, no more Master Eraqus at all. 
The tears threatened to well up again, but you denied them, shaking your head quickly to clear your fuzzy thoughts. You should have been excited! You’d never been off your home world (the Land of Departure notwithstanding), and there you were! It was time to take your first look at a world other than your own. With that thought in mind you spun around…
…Only to see the same desolate earth you’d caught a glimpse of on your ride in. There was nothing in that world but baked, dry ground; towering cliffs the same uniform shade; and some sort of short, irregular bush that seemed to grow in droves all across the flat, unremarkable landscape.
“What?”
This was not how worlds were supposed to be. They were full of life, full of wonder. This planet was no such thing. Was this where Terra had gone? You’d lost him in the Paths Between almost as soon as setting out, but something told you that Aqua’s magic had done its work. 
Slowly, you picked up one foot and began to walk down the path outlined by the plants. Each footstep echoed through the empty air.
“Terra?” you called. Your voice was too quiet even for you to hear. 
Something bothered you about the blackened things leading you away from your crash site, too. You drew closer to one clump of plants and narrowed your eyes as you moved your fingers toward it. They brushed against heated metal. You withdrew them as if bitten. 
“But this is…” You looked at another, took three more steps and looked again. “They’re all keyblades.”
Panic set in. You started to run.
“Terra!” Your voiced bounced back to you, making you a chorus. “Terra!”
“He’s not here.” 
You stopped. The voice that had spoken was unfamiliar, but it made your heart stop cold in its tracks. Turning, you saw a boy standing behind you. He was no one you recognized. Dressed head to toe in black, an inscrutable mask covering his face, he could have been anyone. He, too, had a keyblade, a strangely warped-looking one gripped between strong-looking fingers.
“Who are you? How do you know Terra?” you asked. Your own keyblade shone into being and you lifted it into position, ready to attack at a moment’s notice.
The boy only laughed. 
Your heart picked up pace again. “Answer me!”
******
“Woo! Come on! Go, Aqua!” 
“Ven, I thought you were cheering for me!” you cried.
“I can cheer for both of you.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Not for much longer, he can’t,” Aqua cut in.
You ducked another one of Aqua’s swings and stepped backward. After an all-day lesson of trying to figure out blizzard magic, the two of you were supposed to spar–not that Aqua needed any help in the magic department. It was you, one year into your training and still completely confused about magic. As usual, the younger (though still-annoyingly-ahead-in-his-studies) Ventus looked on and cheered each time either of you came close to a blow.
“And why do you say that?” you asked.
“Because I’m almost getting through your guard. Focus, [Name].”
“I am focusing.”
“Oh, really?” Aqua stopped and put her hands at her sides. “Then let’s see some of that magic you were learning earlier.”
“Um…but…”
“Focus is the main way to get your magic going. Come on, you can do it. I know it.”
“But…argh…” You clenched your eyes shut, trying focus on the blizzard inside you. What that meant, you had no idea, but Master Eraqus had said it in the voice he refrained from using except in the case of especially wise nuggets of truth, so it must have been important. “I think–”
Aqua cut you off by tapping your chest lightly with her keyblade. “You have to focus on the battle, too, [Name].”
“Hey, no fair!”
“It was too fair,” Ventus said. “If you need magic in battle, you can’t hope your enemies just sit there politely and wait for you to use it.”
“Unless you have the stop spell,” said Aqua.
“Which is more magic, so that doesn’t really help me,” you grumbled. 
They were trying to help, but it was frustrating to watch them continue to advance while you wallowed in your inability to so much as light a candle with your powers. Aqua touched you lightly on the shoulder and gave you an encouraging smile.
“You’ll get it soon, [Name]. I know it.”
You returned her smile gratefully.
“Hey, you guys done yet?” Terra asked, as he strode up to where you and Aqua stood. 
She grinned at him as well and gave you a last pat on the shoulder. “We just finished. [Name]’s getting really good.”
“Really?” He looked between the two of you and you looked away. Did he have to rub it in how bad you were? He didn’t have to look so surprised. “Did you win this time?”
“No. Aqua always wins.” You scuffed a line in the dirt with your toe.
“But,” Aqua lifted her voice, “I bet she has the blizzard spell down by the end of the week.”
“That’s great!”
“Sure.” 
You trailed off to stare toward the castle. Night had started to fall. All you wanted to do was climb into bed to be a loser on your own. Looking like one in front of Terra was…well, it wasn’t exactly good for your self-esteem.
“Terra, why don’t you help [Name] practice tonight? Maybe she can get it done by morning,” Aqua said.
“That’s a great idea!”  Terra agreed.
Your heart gave a great leap, forcing you to look up at your two friends. 
Terra grinned, looking more excited than he normally did when it came to extra practice. This was saying something; Terra always took extra practice opportunities. “How about it, [Name]? You want to?”
“U-Um…” On good days, being around Terra made your heart beat faster and your hands grow sweaty. Seeing him like this on a particularly bad one made it even worse. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not! I’ll give you some advice. Maybe Aqua doesn’t do it the same way I do”
“Sounds good!”
“Then let’s go!” 
He tore off without a second glance. After a quick, embarrassed smile in Aqua’s direction, you ran after him.
******
The masked boy’s laughter died away. That was the only warning you had before he launched himself forward, weapon gleaming in the sunlight. You lifted your own in response, but he was too quick. He struck, once, twice, again, again, again. 
“I don’t owe you an answer. I don’t owe you anything,” he said during this onslaught. “You’re just a newbie Keyblade Knight. All I have to do is kill you, and everything will be so much easier.”
You could feel the blood draining out of your face. It was true. Despite being Aqua’s equal in age, you’d only been training for a handful of years, much less than any of your friends. 
“What do you mean?” you panted.
He chuckled again. The sound caused the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. “You won’t be around to find out.”
Again he swung and, distracted, you missed your chance to block him. The force of his blow sent you crashing to the ground. Colors swirled in front of your eyes. When they cleared, your opponent had his blade pointed directly at your face. 
“I’d ask you if you had any last words, but I doubt they’d be anything interesting,” he said.
“Vanitas!” Someone called.
The boy looked up, moving forward to press you into the ground by your throat with his blade. You swallowed hard.  The man moving toward you was one-hundred-percent familiar. You’d thought he’d been missing, but apparently not. Master Xehanort stood right above you.
“What?” Vanitas asked impatiently.
“We don’t have time for you to play with your food,” Master Xehanort said. “Terra will be here any minute.”
“Fine.” 
Vanitus lifted his keyblade again. You winced. Would it hurt to die? Would you get to see your master again? The blade drove toward your neck, and you braced yourself for impact when–
“Wait!” Xehanort’s gravelly voice stopped the keyblade instantly.
“What now?”
“Keep her. For her, Terra will open his heart to the darkness completely.”
“For her?” Vanitus shook his head. “Why?”
“Didn’t you see the way he looked at her?” Xehanort moved to your side, and Vanitas withdrew. You almost wished he hadn’t. The pressure on your throat was better than the smirk Xehanort shot down at you.
“Disgusting.” Vanitus turned his veiled face toward you one last time before racing away.
“Terra wouldn’t…” You swallowed and found your voice again. “Terra would never give his heart to the darkness!”
“Stupid girl!” Xehanort said. “Didn’t you see what he did to Eraqus? What could that have been but darkness?” 
You could not deny what you saw. You could not deny the radiating purple-black tendrils that formed when Terra started to attack. You could not deny the look on his face. You could not deny Master Eraqus’s crumpled body, lying in front of the castle. But Terra–Terra–
“He was trying to protect Ven!” 
“And he destroyed your master in the process! Just one more push, and the boy will be mine!”
******
Two more years passed. Everyone grew, except for Ventus, who seemed like he might never age. You mastered blizzard magic–then thunder and fire–and continued to work with increasing frustration on the cure spell. Master Eraqus grew sterner and sterner, and the days the four of your practiced grew longer and longer. 
Then it happened: Terra and Aqua’s Mark of Mastery tests were announced. Three months–three months for the two of them to hone their skills to their peak. Three months to train with no helpful advice from Terra.
You came away from another rough evening of being beaten black and blue by Ventus of all people when it happened. 
You spotted Terra in the distance, but made no move to signal him. Ignoring him wasn't exactly what you were doing, but you knew he was busy. The small amount of time he did have to talk to you, you didn’t want him to see you covered in bruises and cuts. The blushing and sweating from before had solidified into a true, hormone-filled crush, and you were loathed to let him nurse it by worrying about you.
“[Name]! Wait!” 
Frowning, you turned around. Terra was right behind you, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.
“I am waiting,” you said blankly. Had Terra been able to move that fast before? That Mark of Mastery training was really something.
“Good,” he said. “Because I have to tell you something.”
“More advice? Because last time you gave me some, I froze Ventus’s hand solid for a week and a half.”
“Not advice.” He shook his head, then suddenly frowned. “But you learned your spell anyway, right?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I’m not here to give you advice,” Terra repeated. “It’s just–Well…”
“Is that any way for a soon to be Keyblade Knight to speak?” You smirked and were pleased to get a nervous chuckle out of Terra in response. “Spit it out.”
“Fine…I, uh…it’s just that…I was wondering, can I ask you for some advice?”
“I owe it to you. But I doubt I can help you out with anything.”
“It’s kind of a girl problem.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
“Not like that!” he hastened to assure you. “It’s just that, well, I like someone. And I don’t know if I should tell them–her–or…what I should do…you know, with the Mark of Mastery coming up and all.”
Your heart sank. Of course Terra would be speaking about Aqua. Who wouldn’t be in love with Aqua? She was kind, wonderful at her job, and drop-dead gorgeous. You always knew one of the boys would fall in love with them, or both of them.
It took everything in you to force the smile onto your face, but you did. “You should tell her,” you said firmly. “I think you two would go really well with each other.”
Terra looked stunned. “Really?”
“Really,” you said, relieved that your voice hadn't cracked around the tears in your throat. Who cared if Terra liked Aqua? He wouldn’t be around much longer anyway. “Maybe you should go do it now, because–”
You couldn’t finish your sentence. Terra had closed the gap between you, tugged you into his chest, and kissed you. When he finally stopped, your head reeled, but you still caught another one Terra’s confident smiles flickering against the backdrop of millions of sparkling worlds.
“[Name], I like you.”
******
Something glinted in the cloudless blue sky: one something, then two, followed by a third. Xehanort followed the sparkling paths with his golden eyes with a perverse smile spreading across his face. When each light disappeared, he turned his attention back to you.
“They’re here.” He grabbed your arm and wrenched you to your feet. “Everything is falling into place. Vanitus!”
“I’m right here.” Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell Vanitus was rolling his eyes.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Xehanort half-dragged, half-pushed you across the barren landscape. Twist as you might have, you could not escape his iron grip. All the while, you could practically feel Vanitus’ amusement at how pitiful you were. At one point, you stumbled, but the man kept marching, digging his fingers deep into your skin to keep you coming alongside him.
“[Name]!” Two voices spoke at the same time. Your three friends stood together, looking utterly horrorstruck at finding you there.
“Terra! Aqua!” 
You wanted to ask them for help, wanted to demand from Terra the explanation you’d followed him all the way there for. But both of those things seemed shameful. You should have been able to avoid being captured, should have, perhaps, been able to aid your Master.
“[Name]! Why are you here?” It was Terra who spoke, and just seeing his aghast expression made your knees weak.
“She came to see me,” Xehanort rasped. “After seeing your little fight with Eraqus, she thought darkness might be the way for her, too.”
“What?” Aqua gasped.
“He’s lying!” You shook your head frantically. “I used the Paths Between and followed Terra here!” Terra frowned at this, and you shook your head again, even more frantically. “I had to! The Land of Departure is gone, and he…Master Eraqus…”
“I know.”
“Terra, why?”
“We don’t have time for this.” Vanitus summoned his keyblade. “We have a Chi Blade to summon.”
“Quite right. If you chose to believe this weak little girl over me, Master Terra, then so be it,” said Master Eraqus.
“[Name] isn’t weak!” Terra snapped.
“That’s right!” said Aqua.
Each of them, Ventus, Terra, and Aqua ,looked at each other and slammed their fists into the button that activated their armor.
“Come!” Xehanort lifted his hands. 
A massive cliff began to rise underneath him, Vanitus, and you. Just as its growth slowed, Xehanort lifted you up to hang you over the edge. 
“Goodbye, [Name],” he said. “Too bad you couldn’t have been of more use to me.”
Then he let you go.
You couldn’t help it. You screamed. A smear of brown and gray rushed passed you. Your head snapped forward as it hit a large rock protruding from the cliff. Pain exploded inside you. This time, you were going to die for real. If only you’d got to an answer from Terra as to why he’d done it, why he’d accepted the darkness and used it like that, maybe you’d have felt better. Just as you were certain you were about to smash into the ground, two strong arms caught you.
“Terra!” 
He set you on your feet, but you could not see his expression, hidden as it was beneath his armor.
“[Name], are you alright?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about me. I–I was stupid–”
“You’re not stupid. I should have – ”
“We don’t have time for this,” you said, though it broke your heart to say it. “Go. Make sure Aqua and Ven are safe.”
After one last, lingering look, Terra nodded once, then bounded away. It was the last thing you saw, before black devoured the brown surrounding you.
******
“So, your test is tomorrow, huh?”
You found Terra huddled outside at one of the tables Master Eraqus occasionally used for outdoor lessons. Normally, the boy would have been inside by then, but you had a feeling that that night of all nights, he wasn’t bound to get much sleep.
“Yeah,” he answered without looking away from the stars. 
You took a seat next to him, drew your knees into your chest, and looked at him. “Nervous?”
He glanced at you. “No…yes.”
“You’re going to do great. After all, you’ve helped me improve, and I’m completely hopeless.”
“Hopeless? Are you kidding? It might take you a while to learn, but you’re good. No one has ever lit the entire library on fire their first time casting a fire spell before.”
“No one has spent an entire month recopying the damaged entries before either.”
Terra laughed. He lifted his arm, wrapped it around your shoulders, drew you close, and looked back up at the sky. “I can’t believe soon I’ll be visiting all those worlds. There are hundreds. Thousands.”
“It is pretty mind boggling,” you agreed. A single butterfly fluttered in your stomach and out your throat in the form of the words you’d been trying so hard not to say: “But I’m going to miss you.”
Terra’s blue eyes widened for a moment, then he buried his face in your hair for a brief moment. When he resurfaced, he spoke. “I’ll miss you, too.”
“Send me lots of letters, okay? With lots of advice. Ventus is terrible at helping me with pretty much anything.”
“I will.”
“Good.” You stood up and gestured for him to follow. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You have a test early in the morning, and Master Eraqus isn’t kidding when he wants you up before five.”
“I was afraid of that,” he said as he got to his feet. 
As soon as you reached the hallway, he gave you a quick kiss, then went on to his own room. You made to do the same, but were interrupted by your master appearing next to you.
“[Name], a word,” said Master Eraqus.
“Of course,” you said automatically, though it confused and worried you that he was speaking to you so late at night.
“You were out with Terra.”
“Yes.”
“The two of you are…together.”
“Yes.”
Master Eraqus said nothing; he simply stared down the empty hallway where Terra had disappeared. “[Name], I would advise you against that.”
“What? Why?” Your heart thundered in your chest. “Keyblade Knights don’t have to take a vow of celibacy or anything like that. Terra is wonderful.”
Master Eraqus’s face, when you saw it again, was troubled. “I sense darkness in Terra, [Name]. I cannot force you away from him, nor would I if I could. I simply ask you to keep your heart guarded.”
******
When you came to, everything was still. The cliff you’d been dropped off had vanished. In its place sat a crater strewn with pieces of armor and more of the dead, blackened keyblades.
A hopeful bubble in your brain told you the battle was over. Your Wayfinder said Terra, Aqua, and Ven were nowhere to be found.
“Terra? Ven? Aqua?” you called tremulously. 
No one answer. You were all alone.
That time, you did not run. A horrible cold settled into your chest. At any moment, you could grab your keyblade and fly to another world, but the Wayfinder did not tug you that way either. Had the magic failed? Did Xehanort win? Had Terra…?
Just then, you spotted a figure in the distance. The familiar gold and red armor clanked as the figure walked, and that clanking echoed all around you. Your heart gave an enormous leap. So the Wayfinder just wasn't working! There was Terra, throwing his keyblade in the air, transforming it, preparing to get on and fly away.
But why would he leave without you?
“Terra!” You sprinted toward him, waving your hands all the while. “Terra!”
He stopped , and soon you were by his side.
“Terra, I was so worried! I thought something terrible had happened to you!”
“I’m fine.” 
Those words should have calmed your nerves, but they did not. There was something about his deadened tone, the fact that he refused to look at you that forced your heart to pump ice through your veins.
“Where is Aqua? Ven?” you asked.
“Don’t know.”
“Are you going to look for them?”
“No.”
“Terra?” He didn’t answer. ““But…I trust you.”
Slowly, he got off the keyblade. Just as slowly, he took off his helmet. For a moment he stood there, eyes closed. And then his eyes popped open. You stumbled backward. They were no longer the familiar, warm blue you loved. Now they were cold, golden, more like Master Xehanort’s than the Terra you knew.
“Here’s some general advice.” 
That thing leered down at you as he reached for his reformed keyblade. You lifted your arm, gritted your teeth, tried to summon your own–but too late. The edge of Terra’s keyblade slammed into your chest.
Xehanort leaned forward. His face was mere inches from yours, but your squelching heart felt nothing. You coughed and tasted blood. He smirked as he drew away.
“Don’t.”
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aspenmissing · 10 months
Text
𝙰 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚃𝚘𝚕𝚍 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)
The moonlight shines over a small village that lies in a small valley, surrounded by mountains, trees and plains with only a few dirt trails and roads for wagons to get through...Vroncaster. The village is hidden in the valley that anyone not local, will say they've never heard of it. Travellers will say that it's a sort of, a paradise of some sort. Away from any major towns or kingdoms, and little to no fights or wars. The village is quite peaceful and seemingly nothing bad happens there...But that's all about to change when death meets fate and as we know, fate can't be changed.
A small boy stares out his window up at the stars and the moon. The stars shine and twinkle in his eyes reflection as a smile grows on his face. On his lap rests a leather-bound book with the name 'Tyran Hendrix' written on the front. The boy, seemingly called Tyran, begins writing in the book. This goes on for what seems like minutes until he's pulled from his writing by the sound of cats hissing and bins being knocked over. He peeks his head out, not seeing anything. However, from the corner of his eye, a figure pops out from around a corner and begins walking down the street. Tyran's gaze follows the stranger as they stop and sigh.
"Those damn cats." The figure sneers. They take off their hood, to reveal their long locks of brown hair. They turn their head slowly to face the boy, their cognac- seemingly glowing- eyes catching onto Tyran's cornflower blue (This is the actual name of his eye colour) eyes...It's a woman. He quickly ducks down in hopes of not being spotted- not knowing that the woman has seen him. She sighs and turns back around. "Meh he's a kid, he's not going to do anything." She begins walking away until she's out of sight. Tyran slowly straightens back up and sees the woman is no longer there. He looks up and down the streets, looking for any signs of the woman.
"I-I'm probably just tired. Granny always tells me that when people are tired they see strange things." H says, placing his book on the table beside his bed before blowing out the candle, his room getting encased in darkness with the only light being the moon shining in. "Tomorrow's gonna be a new day, meaning new me."
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1 Month Later
Tyran is down at a lake that flows just outside his village, a bridge not far from him. He's sat on the side, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin and the calming sounds of the running water of the lake and the wildlife of the forest. During the calming sounds, he thinks back to that night...
"That woman... I wonder if she was real or not. I mean she can't be, who would be walking through the village that late! I mean I was still up, so maybe it was a traveller...But those eyes, her sharp movement to look at me, it didn't seem like she was normal..." Tyran thinks.
A splash brings him out of his thinking and he turns his head to see a frog jump out of the water and onto a rock. It croaks and ribbits. Tyran smiles and reaches out to touch the creature, only for a rock to hit his hand. The frog jumps away as Tyran pulls his hand back, hissing in pain and clutching it. Laughter fills the air as Tyran stands up and looks at the bridge to see three boys, laughing at him.
"Look at this, the freak was just about to touch that frog!" The tallest of the bunch and the leader, Jake, says. Jake throws up a rock and catches it, smirking at Tyran.
"Maybe it's his friend?!" The blond-haired boy, Kyle, teases, laughing.
"But look, even the frog didn't want to be his friend!" The smaller blond-haired boy, Sam, teases joining in on the laughter. The three boys walk down the bridge and walk over to Tyran, who's keeping his eyes down.
"What, got nothing to say, freak!" Jake says, throwing the rock at Tyran- hitting the young boy on the cheek. He stumbles back slightly, holding his cheek.
"N-No, I just want to go home," Tyran says, sniffling slightly in pain as he walks forwards- hoping to just be able to walk past them.
"Look at the baby crying!" Sam teases, laughing and pushing Tyran back. He stumbles back slightly, holding himself close.
"Hey, why don't you go and cry to your mommy!" Jake shouts, laughing before mockingly crying. "Oh that's right, you don't have one. You don't have a dad either!"
"I heard that he didn't even meet them. Guess they wanted to get away from you that bad huh?"
"They were probably embarrassed by him!" Kyle says, making Jake and Sam laugh.
"That's not true!" Tyran shouts, stepping forwards a bit. "They weren't embarrassed by me! Granny told me that they loved me very much! They just couldn't stay here because they were too good for this earth!"
"Well, your Granny is a lying hag!" Jake shouts "You know, she probably put a curse on your parents!"
"Don't talk about her like that!" Tyran shouts and having enough of their teasing and disrespectful words towards his grandmother he launches himself forwards to jump on Jake. Tyran begins hitting Jake in the chest, doing not so much damage. "You don't have the right to talk about my family!" He shouts. As the younger boy continues to hit the leader, who has his arms up to cover himself. Tyran fails to notice the other two boys behind him holding large rocks. They hold the rocks above their head, going to strike the young boy in the head with them.
"Well, you won't be here to stop us!" Jake says, smirking. Tyran stops hitting him and slowly turns his head to see the dark shadows over the other two faces with evil smirks, the rocks over their heads. His eyes widen. "See you, never" They bring the rocks down... Time seems to slow down for Tyran as the bricks come closer to him...Until loud barking and growling cut them off. The group turn their heads to see a wolf running full speed towards them, its jaws snarling and crazed eyes lusting for blood. Sam and Kyle quickly drop the bricks and run away, screaming. Jake quickly pushes Tyran off him and gets up, tripping over at first before quickly following running after his friends. "I hope that thing eats you!"
"I'm sorry Granny, I've left you alone...I broke our promise..." He thinks. Tyran sits back on his legs with his head hung low, excepting his fate. He feels the wolf stop in front of him and he squeezes his eyes, waiting for the claws to dig into him, or for the jaws to snap around him... Instead, a warm hand rests on his head, causing him to flinch.
"You okay kid?" A soft feminine voice asks. Tyran slowly looks up and locks eyes with cognac eyes. Their brown locks falling from their shoulders...It's the woman from that night. His eyes scan around quickly only to see no sign of the wolf that had been running towards him moments ago. Fingers click in his face, bringing him back to the attention of the woman -who's now crouched down in front of him. "Hey, those brats didn't hit you in the head right?" Tyran shakes his head. The woman grazes her fingers on his cheek, clicking her tongue in silenced anger before looking at the boy with a smile. "And you're okay?" Tyran slowly nods. "Good. Now let's get you up off the ground and get that cheek of yours sorted." She holds out her hand and Tyran slowly grabs it before she pulls him up. The woman notices a wooden carving on the ground and picks it up, holding it out to Tyran. "This yours?"
"It must have fallen out of my pocket when they pushed me. I'm glad I didn't lose it." Tyran stares from the wood carving to the woman. He nods and she smiles.
"I'm Y/N...What's your name?" She asks.
"T-Tyran..." He stutters, grabbing the wooden carving of the bear and putting it back in his pocket. Y/N walks over to a bag and brings it over to Tyran. She opens it and brings out a clean rag and holds it up to Tyran.
"This may sting a little." She says, sympathy covering her eyes. "I'm sorry, but I don't want the cut to get infected." Tyran hesitates before nodding and Y/N brings the rag to Tyran's cut cheek. He winces in pain as Y/N gently begins dabbing the cut, making sure to clean it. After a few more seconds of cleaning, she grabs a bandage from her bag. placing it on the cut. "There, all done."
"T-Thank you." Tyran forces out. Y/N nods with another gentle smile. "T-The wolf!" She nods again. "What happened to it?"
"I scared it off before it could come too close to you. Your lucky I was passing by kid, or I might not have been here to save you." Y/N says. The two begin hearing yelling from the village and they look over. "It seems the brats have caused quite the chaos." She grabs her bag and puts it over her shoulder. She looks down at Tyran, ruffling his head. "Now you try and stay out of trouble."
"But wait, why are you leaving?" Tyran asks. Sadness falls across Y/N's face but she keeps a strong smile.
"Because I don't want to hurt anyone." She says. Tyran turns to face the village from where the yells are getting louder.
"Hurt anyone? But why would you-" Tyran turns back around to see Y/N gone. He looks around for the woman only to see no sign of her, just like that night. It's like she just disappears.
"Over there! That's where we saw the wolf!" Jake shouts, pointing over to where Tyran is. And no wolf in sight.
"I don't see anything kid." One of the men asks.
"I'm telling you there was a wolf over there!" Jake shouts.
"I don't see any wolf, son. Now, I know how you are with your pranks, but this is a little far."  An elder man, Audric, says- seemingly the leader of the village.
"It's not a pra- AH!" Jake yells in pain as a woman grabs him by the ear.
"What have I told you about pulling pranks!" The woman, seemingly his mother, says- walking away from the small crowd.
"But I wasn't pulling a prank, mama! Ask Sam and Kyle! Even the freak saw the wolf!" The small crowd look to Tyran who shrugs, they sign and begin dispersing. The elder man walks over to Tyran.
"Did you see a wolf, son?" Audric asks. Tyran shakes his head. The elder man looks at the boy's cheek, frowning. "What happened to your cheek there?" Tyran remains quiet as Audric sighs. "Has Jake and his friends been picking on your again?"  Tyran shakes his head.
"No sir, I just fell over," Tyran says, looking up at the man with a smile. "I'm always a bit clumsy!" Audric, knowing he won't get the truth from the boy, simply shakes his head and smiles at the young boy.
"It seems like you picked that up from your grandmother," Audric says, chuckling lightly. "Speaking of, let's get you back home." Audric places his hand on the boy's shoulder and the two begin walking back to the village, not before Tyran takes one look back- in hopes of seeing the woman again- only to see nothing but the forest. He sighs and turns his head back around, walking back into the village.
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Tyran lays in his bed, staring up at his ceiling. The pale crescent moon shone like a silvery claw in the night sky as he sits up to look out his window to look up at the blanket of stars that stretched to infinity.
"It's been nearly a week since Y/N saved me." Tyran thinks, looking down at the wooden carving of the bear that sits on the windowsill. "I told Granny about it but she just tells me that I have a wild imagination. But I know she's real...She has to be..." A shadow appears in the corner of his eye. He turns and sees a figure walking down the street, dragging what looks to be some kind of dead animal, a deer to be exact. "It's her! I know that hair anyway, and who else would be walking around the village at this time." Tyran doesn't waste time as he jumps out of his bed and begins getting his shoes on and a coat. He quietly makes his way down the stairs, as to not wake up his grandmother, before quickly grabbing a lantern and lighting it.
The front door creaks open as he peeks his head out, looking both ways before beginning his mission to follow Y/N. Tyran holds the lantern up high as he crosses the stone bridge to which he sees Y/N walking past the forest edge and instantly disappearing behind the leaves. Tyran is quick to follow in pursuit, careful of his step as to not make any noises that could alert the woman.
"For dragging a dead deer, she's walking pretty fast. Just how strong is she!" Tyran thinks as he spots her a bit away from him. He continues to follow her, hiding behind rocks and tree trunks to avoid being spotted. This goes on for what seems like hours until he spots her climbing up rocks and boulders, which are arranged in a dangerous yet do-able path, the dead deer now over one of her shoulders. She disappears over the edge and Tyran looks up, gulping deeply.  "T-This is dangerous. Maybe I should just head home"  He contemplates what he's going to do, looking up the mountain then to where he came from before shaking his head. "I've come too far to turn back."  He blows the lantern's flame and places it off to the side before beginning his climb up the rugged path. He huffs and puffs, his arms shaking with his weight as he pulls himself up but he continues.
He eventually reaches the top where a cave resides and he slowly makes his way to stand at the entrance. The glow of the moon is his only light as his eyes peer into the cave, however inside he hears shuffles and growling and not long after he hears squelching? He walks a bit into the cave until his eyes adjust to the darkness and his face drops of horror at the sight...Facing away from him stands a wolf with its jaws dug into something, blood covering its mouth as it eats whatever it is. Tyran slowly begins walking backwards and out of the cave, not wanting to alert the beast of his presence. However, the world had a change of plans for him as he steps on a twig. The wolf's head snaps up from its food, allowing the moonlight to shine past it and on the now visible dead deer.
"T-that was the deer Y/N was dragging, but where is she?!" Tyran thinks, his body frozen in fear. The wolf turns around fully and begins walking towards Tyran. He freaks out and is quick to turn around and make his way back to the dangerous path. He looks down, not knowing exactly how to get down. He hears the pads of paws and he turns around as the Wolf exits the cave, blood dripping from its muzzle, and walks towards him. Its vibrant familiar cognac eyes piercing into his blue eyes. Unknowing to him the rock beneath him begins cracking. The wolf barks and whimpers before quickly jumping towards Tyran who stumbles back as the rock beneath him crumbles. He holds his hands out in front of him as he falls back, his eyes closed as he awaits the impact...Only for a warm hand to grab him and pull him up onto the safe ground.
"I told you to not get yourself into any more trouble. It's not safe around here, every step could lead to your death." Y/N says, looking down at Tyran. "Why did you follow me?" Tyran takes heavy breaths as he kneels on the ground and looks up at Y/N. Her eyes were the same as that of the wolf not to mention specks of blood around her mouth just as the wolf.
"Y-Your the wolf, aren't you?" Tyran stutters. "Y-Your the one who saved me from those boys...W-What are you?"
"Something that you need to stay away from," Y/N says, using her sleeve to wipe the blood from her mouth. "Now I'll ask again, why did you follow me?"
"I wanted to see you again, your different from other travellers that I've seen come through the village and I was curious" Tyran stands up as Y/N chuckles.
"Don't you know curiosity killed the cat?" Y/N says.
"Yeah, but satisfaction brought it back." Tyran shoots back.
"Satisfaction of?"
"Proving that you are real." Y/N shakes her head and turns around.
"You're one odd kid." She says walking away from Tyran and over to the cliff, sitting on the edge with her feet dangling down with nothing but trees down below. Tyran slowly makes his way towards her and sits down beside her, looking up at the woman.
"Why do you live out here?" Tyran asks causing Y/N to sigh.
"Wherever I go, whatever I do. Someone always ends up getting hurt. That's why I'm way out here and away from your home. I want to keep people safe."
"That's not your fault that people get hurt. It's a shame that they do but that's life."
"You don't understand kid. I'm cursed." Y/N admits. "My name is Y/N, yes, but I am known by everyone by a different name. The name I've been cursed to carry and forever hold. The name strikes fear into those that know of the legend...Legend of the Reaper."
"The Reaper?" Tyran questions. "I thought the Reaper was an old woman or something." Y/N looks at him confused.
"Kid, I've just told you that I'm the Reaper. Someone who brings death to people in a blink of an eye, how are you so calm?" Tyran shrugs.
"Well because my Granny always loved poems and stories but there was one poem she read to me about how Death is Beautiful(The name of the Poem btw). And she told me...:
'Everything must have its end, or there is no Beginning. Death is not the opposite of Life, but the counterpart to Birth. Death is beautiful because it represents change.'
"So your not scared of me because you...?" Y/N questions.
"Because I respect death and only accept its calling when I know it's my time." Y/N looks back to the mountains.
"In all my years of living, never once have I heard someone tell me that death is beautiful. Even I don't think it's beautiful." She lightly smiles. "You know, when you've been living alone for as long as I have, you get used to things. Get used to having no one but yourself to talk to and used to the silence that follows."
"But no one should have to live alone. Especially not you." Tyran gives the woman a side hug. Y/N flinches from the sudden contact, not having experienced such a thing for many decades. Tyran begins lightly crying. "You've been so kind to me! You've saved me life more than once and you never look at me in disgust like the village does! I-I don't want you to be alone. You've been alone for far too long!" Y/N looks down at him and hugs him close, rubbing his head.
"You can't be crying over that." She says, lightly smiling at the boy. "There are many people who are alone but most thrive of being alone. I happen to be one of those people, well on the most side I am." Y/N pats his head. "How about this, I'll come down to the village a bit more often, even during daytime. How does that sound?
"R-Really?" He asks, wiping his teary blue eyes and looking up at her.
"Of course, would I ever lie to you?"
"Y-You mean it!" Tyran asks, eyes sparkling. Y/N chuckles and nods. He smiles widely before hugging Y/N tightly. She laughs and hugs the boy back. The two sit on the cliff for hours and Tyran has moved to lay his head on Y/N's lap, who weaves her hand through his hair gently. She looks up from the boy and to the sunrise that's now peeking over the mountains, its golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue sky. Golden light dribbles over the valley like syrup, the leaves of the forest down below shimmering like a mirror flecked mosaic.
"The sunrise...One of the few things I love in my life." Y/N says. Tyran smiles at the sunrise.
"It's a new day, Y/N...Meaning new us..." Tyran trails off, closing his eyes and falling asleep. Y/N nods, smiling at him. She waits until she knows he's asleep and carefully picks him up, Koala style, and begins making her way down the mountain- careful to not wake the sleeping boy up. She spots his lantern and picks it up on the way and begins walking back to the village.
She makes it to his home, jumping up to the window and into his room. She takes off his coat and boots and lays him on his bed, pulling the covers up. She takes the time to look around his room, spotting the leather-bound book on the desk beside the bed and she picks it up, opening it.
"Today Granny gave me a wooden carving of a bear! She tells me that it represents protection and that for as long as I have it, I'll feel safe!"  She reads in her head, looking back down on the desk at the bear carving. She shifts her gaze to the sleeping boy, moving a strand of hair out of his face and smiling softly. She hears footsteps from outside the door and quickly puts the book back down and jumps back onto the windowsill, giving Tyran one last look before jumping out the window. The bedroom door opens and in walks an elder woman, his grandmother, who checks on the boy. She smiles when she sees him sound asleep and quietly closes the door.
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I just wanna apologise for the incredibly long hiatus, just been busy. Going into college and such, and trying to get everything back on track. Updates may be like this for a bit- that's until I get a steady lifestyle again!
Oh, and as you've read, I've taken the one I wrote on the earlier chapters and copied and pasted it onto this one and changed a few words! And I have no outfit because I have no idea what your preferences are, but know that there is a hood but the rest is to your imagination! Also, this is sorta just like a filler thing showing exactly what happened and how it happened and such so I hope you enjoy it!!! It'll also be the longest one, so enjoy your backstory with Tyran!
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rosebloodcat · 2 years
Text
Transfer Error CH1
Alright, it’s taken a while but I’ve finally got some good writing done for the Transfer Error Au. Today, how it all begins. Please tell me what yall think!
Also, potential Trigger Warning for Body Horror (via forced transformation)
Ingo always felt like an outsider in Hisui. And he was one, in many ways.
He spoke differently from the people around him, dressed differently from them, thought differently from everyone.
He was the man that the Pearl clan had found wandering around the Alabaster Icelands, dazed and confused and suffering from hypothermia.
The man with a voice that was loud and clear and impossible to ignore. That spoke in strange terms and clung to formalities even when there was no need for them.
He was the only one in Hisui who would approach Pokémon with respect and caution, but not a single ounce of fear. (At least, he had been the only one. Until young Rei had fallen from the rift in the sky.)
There were so many other, smaller things that added to it as well and marked him as being different. That kept them from forgetting that he wasn't one of them. That he may not have even been from Hisui at all.
He would always be the “stranger the Pearl Clan found in the Icelands” to them.
As much as he tried to lay down new tracks for himself, as much as he tried to settle into his new station in Hisui, he never felt like he belonged there. For all the effort he put into helping and being part of the world he was in, it never felt like home.
Yes, they welcomed him as a friend. They hailed him as one of their Wardens. But there was always the reminder that he wasn't native would always remain.
Maybe it would be easier to accept his current lot in life if the echoes of his old one would leave him be.
If he would stop having names and places that don't exist hovering at the back of his mind or lingering on the tip of his tongue, maybe it would be easier to accept where he was. Maybe if he finally knew who he used to be, he could have an easier time accepting who he'd become.
Maybe then he could finally shake off the shadows of his mysterious past that clung to him for so long.
If only he could find some clue to figure them out. He had been hunting for a while, though he wasn't obvious about it. (At least he'd tried not to be.) But his efforts had yet to bear fruit.
His subtle inquires about things he remembered had yet to get him answers. Sketches of vague pokémon got him nothing but confused stares from the people he showed them to. The terms and language he used simply resulted in others calling him strange. No matter who or what he asked, no one ever held an answer.
It was… Frustrating, to say the least.
But, it seemed his hunting hadn’t gone as unnoticed as he’d thought.
While patrolling the highlands, he’d been flagged down by a member of the Survey Corps who told him that there was someone at one of their camps who wanted to speak with him. When he’d asked what they’d wanted to talk about, he’d been told that they didn’t know. But the person seemed awfully nervous, they’d said.
Curiosity peaked, Ingo had made the detour to the camp in question. Up by the Lonely Spring. And found a nervous-looking, somewhat familiar young lady in a Ginko Guild uniform there.
She’d waved shyly at him when she’d spotted him. Ingo has only been able to give a blank stare and hesitant wave of his own.
He didn't know the woman personally, but he remembered seeing her a few times. Usually, she helped pack up merchandise that the other guild members sold. Volo had mentioned her, saying she could never seem to sell anything due to a terrible stutter she could never seem to shake. So she would help everyone else with their inventories instead.
What was her name again?
“H-hello Warden Ingo!”
“Ah, hello.” His brow furrowed, he knew they’d been introduced at some point but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name. “Is there something I can help you with, miss…”
“N-nanashi! And yes! Well, no. Actually, I-I’m here to help you! I, um, I found something, and I-I think it might be able to help you?” Ingo tilted his head curiously as the woman started rifling through her bag. “You-you’ve been trying to find something to help-help with your memory loss right?”
“W-well Volo, he, uh, he would talk about legends and m-myths a lot. And-and I remembered one story he managed to find that-that talked about a r-relic that might be able t-to help! S-so I went looking f-for it and I-I managed to find it! I-I know I p-put it in one of these p-pockets… Ah-ha!” Nanashi let out a triumphant cry, pulling out a small, dirty golden… Thing and held it out to Ingo.
He took it very carefully, turning it over in his hands curiously.
It was surprisingly heavy and looked like a cross between a bird pokemon of some kind and a toy plane. (What was a plane? He pushed the thought away.) Nanashi continued speaking, freehand waving about as she did.
“According to the st-story that V-Volo told me, that little um… Thingy? Was s-supposed to have b-been made by a master cr-craftsman to ret-turn lost things-s to where they’re s-supposed to belong! I-I thought it was weird th-that something so t-tiny could do that, but maybe th-that’s because it’s not f-for physical things! So I-I thought that m-maybe it could help you g-get your memories back!”
Ingo couldn't help the bubble of hope that sprouted in his chest.
Could this odd little relic really help him?
Considering the other legends that had been passed through Hisui that had been proven true thus far, it was certainly possible that this object could perform the task it was made for.
Maybe, just maybe, this was what he needed. To finally put his worries to rest.
To finally learn who he used to be.
A small smile appeared on his face at the thought.
“Thank you, Miss Nanashi. It was very kind of you to do this for me,” he said, carefully tucking the little relic away in a pocket of his coat. The woman’s face brightened, losing some of the nervous tension she’d had.
“Y-you’re welcome sir! I’m h-happy I could help! L-let us know what you learn, o-okay?”
“I will,” he confirmed, then tipped his hat to her. “I’d best return to my patrols for the day. I must ensure the tracks are safe for all travelers.”
“Y-yes, I need to g-get back to work too,” Nanashi said, with a nod. “H-have a good day sir! And I hope y-you have a s-successful search!”
The two parted ways and Ingo returned to his duties as a warden, the weight in his pocket reminding him of the new lead he may have finally found. And keeping it from straying from his mind for long.
The relic practically burned a hole in Ingo’s pocket for the rest of the day. Quietly gnawing at his nerves until he could get it back to his hut to examine it properly.
Even while climbing sheer cliff sides, checking the torch-lines caves, and dodging alpha pokemon, the weight in his pocket held a grip on the back of his mind.
Not even his hand getting nicked by the claws of one of Lady Sneasler’s kits had managed to drive the thought of it off. Merely pushing it aside for him to hurriedly take something to combat the dose of poison in his veins. It helped that he’d gotten in the habit of keeping a few Pecha berries in his pockets for just such a thing.
(Not that it really mattered anymore, he’d been scratched so many times by the kits that he practically had a blood level of sneasel poison at this point.)
He was sure Lady Sneasler had noticed his preoccupied thoughts, but she didn’t seem to care about his lack of focus. As long as he kept pace and didn’t stray far from her, she didn’t mind that he was quieter than normal.
Ingo still found himself counting down the minutes until he could return to his hut and finally learn more. Until he could pull out the strange thing and see if it could truly help him find out who he used to be. To learn the kind of person he’d been before he’d ended up in the Icelands.
He’d made his way back to his hut as the sunset, taking the day’s light and heat from the mountains with it.
He set his pokemon loose from their pokeballs to let them roam for a bit before retiring for the night, as he often did. They were used to the freedom to wander, and Ingo had no plans to deny them it. Keeping them in the balls forever was cruel, and he wasn't a cruel man.
Calmly removing his shoes at the door, setting his celestia flute on a table, and starting a fire before the chill could fully settle. (It was best to start the fire early, to get it going good and strong so that it would last through the night.)
Continuing his routine, he started boiling water in a pot, adding cut vegetables and meats as it heated. The smell of his cooking dinner filled the room quickly as it bubbled away in its pot before it was stemmed by Ingo placing a lid over it to help it finish. 
No one would be stopping by that night (that he knew of) so, while waiting for his meal to finish cooking, this was the perfect time to try and figure out how the odd relic worked.
(To finally learn who he really was.)
He carefully pulled the tiny gold plane from his pocket and started examining it again, now that he was in a place quiet and private to take his time with the inspection.
It was small, only slightly larger than his hand, with little accents engraved into it such as tiny feathers into the wings and smoke-like details in the odd triangle coming from the tail. There was an indent in the main body of it that looked like a tiny seat. (The pilot's seat, his mind told him.)
The whole thing was encrusted with dirt and it would probably take a great deal of cleaning before it could reclaim its full luster. He could only imagine how the relic’s creator would feel if they saw the state it had fallen into. Yet it still managed to retain much of its golden sheen despite the grime. It would probably fetch a very high price if someone tried to sell it, though Ingo had no plans to do so. Not if it could truly bring back his lost memories.
Turning it over revealed a tiny plaque on the bottom with minuscule writing engraved in it. Ingo squinted at the words carved into it, trying to read it despite its size and the way time had worn it away.
“To restore what's... missing... Time's-time's Flow... between Space... to return... lost... to whence they belong...” He read slowly, trying to piece the inscription together from the few symbols he could see and puzzle out. “Without... Without seeking the creators… Pull… The trail… To set the lost to-to peace.”
Pull… The trail? What could that mean? Ingo looked over the plan again, a hazy image appearing in his mind. Could… Could it be referring to the smoke?
He carefully grasped the smoke in one hand, the other holding the rest of the plane steady, and gave it an experimental tug. To his surprise, it shifted ever-so-slightly.
Ingo adjusted his grip, and carefully pulled at it. It took a bit of effort, likely from the dirt and such that could have collected inside of it. It would take a bit more strength to pull it loose. He simply adjusted his grip again and continued to pull it back, watching as it ground further and further out until it finally stopped with a sharp ‘click’.
(He wondered how pulling the “trail” loose was supposed to help with restoring lost memories. Was it supposed to release something that would help?)
A painful shock traveled up his hands, making him drop the plane with a startled yelp and start rubbing them together.
It... Hurt.
The strange static-like shock had hurt. Much more than he felt like it should have. And the pain was staying, instead of fading after the initial zap to his hands that left them feeling full of pins and needles. Shaking his hands out didn’t make it fade, which was… worrying.
But that wasn't what was sending off alarms in the back of Ingo's mind. No.
It was the fact that the pain was spreading.
Creeping its way through his fingers up his arms and into his chest, stealing his breath away and leaving him dizzy.
Something is very wrong here. He thought, stumbling back from the plane. The pins and needles feeling shifted to something worse, a deeper pain that he couldn’t put an apt description to. Settling deeper into him, down to his bones, even. He braced a hand against the wall, trying to stay on his feet despite the throbbing pain encompassing his body.
Agonizing crunches and cracks filled the air, fire shooting through his veins as if something was trying to melt him from the inside. Like someone was crushing and tearing and shifting his body as they tried to reshape him.
This is wrong, this is very wrong! Ingo’s mind screamed, his breathing picking up. His chest felt tight. He dragged his eyes to his throbbing hands, desperately trying to find some explanation for the pain he was in.
His hands looked wrong.
"Wh-what is this?" he breathed out, staring at them in disbelief. There was a strange, dark violet tint creeping its way over his hands and his fingers looked... Sharper, almost like claws. Shifting and changing shape with painful pops, fingers being forced together as it went.
And they were changing. It sounded insane, but he was certain his hands were changing.
A sharp, white-hot spike of pain from his head and back had him grasping at them with a startled cry and falling to his knees.
His hand caught on- something. Something that was growing from his head. His breath hitched painfully in his chest.
It was short, and a little bristly but quickly getting longer as he ran his changing hand along it. It felt like a feather, but why on earth was he growing a feather from his head?
"What- What is going on here?!" Ingo rasped. Forcing his eyes open (when had he closed them?) he saw more purple spreading over his skin in burning prickles. Burning prickles that bristled along his body and under his much too loose clothing.
His coat and tunic had fit fine before. Why was he suddenly swimming in them? The tunic was starting to slide loose, the belt slipping down his waist as it suddenly seemed too large to fit him. The legs of his slacks were pooling around his ankles, threatening to trip him if he took a wrong step.
Pulling his hand from his head, Ingo ran it over his changing arm, shoving up his hanging sleeve to try and see what was going on.
It looked like it was covered in… in fur.
No, it didn't just look like fur, it felt like it too. There was fur sprouting from his skin.
On the floor beside him, the little golden plane startled rattling, a faint glow coming from it. He didn’t pay it any mind, too focused on the painful, impossible sight of his changing self.
The throbbing pains in his body suddenly worsened, his vision nearly going black and ripping a pained groan from him.
“Help. I-I need help. But how?” He wheezed out, the pain creeping from his chest up to his throat and over his face. It felt like he was choking on his words. “I need… The flute. T-to call snezze- snnee- sneas-el. S-snea? Zzel?!”
He clasped a hand over his mouth in alarm. That-that didn’t… Those, those were the cries of a sneasel. Wh-why was he- why was he making those instead of…?
Panic building, he tried to force more words out but nothing human-sounding left him.
No. No, no, no! Wh-what’s going on, why is this happening?
The thought of his pokémon getting help shot through his mind and he tried to call out again. Praying that, even if he couldn’t understand the cries leaving him, his partners would. That they would hear and understand and get the help he desperately needed.
He heard noises from outside, like something scrambling over stone, and Ingo felt a flicker of hope. Someone was outside.
It had to be one of his team, or even Lady Sneasler herself. There was help coming. He could get help-
A blinding spike of pain in his head stopped him from thinking further, and he slumped to the floor with a cry. (The cry of a sneasel in distress.) The scrabbling outside became much louder.
There was a surge of light that would have blinded anyone that tried to look inside the hut and a moment of suffocating pressure that would have knocked the breath from any person close enough to feel it.
And when both vanished, they took the tiny dirty gold plane and Warden Ingo with them.
(Elsewhere in Ancient Hisui, a man who sought to become God screamed in fury.)
(The plan he’d hatched to claim victory over Arceus’ Chosen Hero by ridding himself of them had been foiled before it could begin. The key tool was lost to him forever, as it could only be used once before it became useless. And there were no others of it to be found, all of them lost to time or destroyed by those who didn’t know their true value.)
(All because of a former guildmate who had actually listened to the Legends he’d loved so dearly and remembered them. A guildmate who had then tried to use them to help another, without ever knowing the real reason he had sought that particular story out.)
(And would likely never know the results of their selfless act, or how it had gone wrong.)
.
.
Some post story side notes: The relic is based on the Quimbaya Golden Planes!
Since getting yeeted through time and space is apparently really common, some clever ancient person in Mycenean Greece (aka Ancient Ancient Hisui) decided to make something to put displaced people back where they're supposed to be without having to hunt down and appeal to the gods to do that.
At least, that was my idea for how and why the thing existed in the first place. Unfortunately, due to age and being left to the elements for so long, the Golden Plane didn’t quite do everything it was supposed to. And did a few things it wasn’t supposed to do.
Nanashi is an original character and the tool by which my McGuffin made it’s way to it’s victim. It took forever for me to come up with her name. Until I finally went, “I’ll just look up the word “Nameless” in another language and use that for her name.” So her name is literally just ‘Nameless’ in Japanese. XD
224 notes · View notes
heliads · 2 years
Note
hi! can i request a peter maximoff x reader who’s hanks sister and is living in the mansion with xavier and him and so she joins them on the mission to break erik out (could her powers be that she can breathe fire so she calls herself dragon?) and she and peter get to know eachother and stuff and develop a linking for eachother
they don’t see eachother till the events of apocalypse and the tension between them is still there throughout and at the end when peter gets gravely injured they end up confessing their feelings?
thankyou!
love your writing btw!
thank you so much for requesting this, i haven't written for my boy peter maximoff in FOREVER and that is a crime
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Three utterly fascinating things are happening in Xavier’s School right now. Seeing as the place has practically been a mausoleum as of late, what with the complete and utter lack of gifted youngsters necessary to make the school function, you are delighted to see that events of note are finally occurring again.
The three utterly fascinating things are as follows: one, a mysterious stranger arrives at the school and lets himself in, two, your brother turns into a blue furry rage monster (as you would so kindly refer to him), and three, Charles Xavier himself has stepped out of his office for the first time in what feels like weeks to see what all the fuss is about. The former professor is carrying a half empty glass bottle, so he’s at least partially staying true to form, but still. Changes, people. You’ve got to love them.
You have taken up a strategic position halfway hidden in the shadows of dust-covered mahogany bookshelves, which gives you the perfect vantage point to see whatever the hell is going on now. Your brother and the new guy have been brawling, or they were up until Charles decided to come down and ruin your show.
It seems like the typical dispute, where someone wants Charles to do some sort of mutant-related thing, the kind of thing he’s sworn off for many years now. You’re just about to retreat upstairs, entertainment over, when New Guy reveals that he’s been sent here from the future.
You aren’t quite able to stow your surprised laugh in time, and Charles, Hank, and New Guy turn to look at you in expressions ranging from annoyance to impassivity.
There’s no chance that you’ll be able to hide anymore, so you shrug and head downstairs. “Look, sorry for listening, but the guy just said he’s here from the future. Can you blame me for wanting to see what that’s about?”
New Guy narrows his eyes at you. “Funny, I didn’t know you were living here around this time, Y/N.”
You glare at him in unison with Hank. “How did you know my name?”
New Guy spreads his hands. “Like I said, I’m from the future. Are you going to believe me now?”
As it turns out, you are. New Guy, or Logan, is able to come up with a few more details on Charles’ life, and just like that, you’ve got a verified time traveler pacing back and forth in front of you. It would be fantastic, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s asking you to break into the Pentagon to rescue the one person Charles wants to see the least.
You’ve managed to insert yourself into this scheme, partially because your group is down a functioning mutant due to Charles’ current inability to read minds. Right now, you’re stuck in a car with the three of them, headed to pick up one more potential ally.
Logan stops the car outside the Maximoff residence, then turns to the rest of you to issue a warning.
“Look, judging by what I know about Peter in my time, he’s going to be a bit of a handful. Just stick with what we have to do, got it?”
You arch a brow. “What, is he a serial killer? How bad can he be?”
Logan grimaces. “If anyone, you’ll get along with him best. You certainly do in my time.”
His mouth turns down slightly as he says this, like he’s realizing that he may have revealed something about the future that he wasn’t supposed to share with you.
His hesitation, however, isn’t enough to dissuade your newfound curiosity. “Do I know Peter Maximoff well, then? Are we close?”
Hank shoves you lightly on the shoulder. “Stop bothering the guy with bone claws coming out of his hands and get out of the car.”
You make a face at your brother, but get out anyway. You’ve got a mission to do, and none of you can afford to waste much time on complaining.
The Maximoff household is nothing like what you were expecting. Ms. Maximoff initially thinks that you’re cops, and that you’re there solely because Peter stole something. This only adds to your fascination about the mutant you’re here to see- just who is this guy, at any rate?
You get your answer soon enough, once the four of you descend into the basement. Peter Maximoff is a silver-haired blur, scarcely stopping his whirlwind of motion long enough to hurl questions at you. Charles seems exasperated already, Logan is grimly aware that this is exactly what he’s been afraid of seeing, Hank is seconds from turning into the Beast again, and you, you are delighted by the whole thing.
You take your role of bothering Charles and Hank very seriously, and it’s wonderful to see that you’ll have a partner in this going forward. Peter’s also quite funny, and you get plenty of chances to notice this as he seems to keep making one-liners for your benefit. Peter’s attention, albeit extraordinarily scattered, drifted quickly from the three men to you and stayed there for the rest of the meeting. It takes Charles bringing up the fact that Peter will be able to break into the Pentagon to distract the speedster from his restless flirting.
To be fair, offering up the Pentagon as a potential robbery site would thrill just about anybody. Peter looks between the four of you, suddenly intrigued.
“The Pentagon? What are we taking out, weapons? Murderers?”
Charles furrows his brow in consternation, muttering something that sounds like ‘all of the above’ under his breath. Peter is bored by this answer, and appears by your side in a second.
“So, why are you here? Are you a murderer as well? You’re certainly killer, if that’s any compensation.”
He winks as he says this, and you grin, partially at the pickup line and also because Hank’s look of revulsion is absolutely hilarious.
“We have a friend here from the future, and he says that we’re get along well a couple years from now.”
Peter raises his eyebrows, donning the grin of a madman. You love it. “We’re close? What kind of close?”
Hank takes it upon himself to intervene. “You’re on the same continent. That’s all you have to know.”
You and Peter give Hank cross looks in unison. Charles takes advantage of the sudden lapse in conversation to try and twist the knife a little further.
“Look, are you going to come with us or not? We’re mutants, we can help you. Or, if you don’t want help, you can at least get out of your mother’s basement for a couple of hours.”
Peter nods sagely. “You know what, I’ll do it. What are your mutations, then? I feel like I should know. It’s good to be informed.”
Hank mumbles something about turning into a monster, which you note is likely some form of his guilt eating away at his consciousness yet again, Charles mentions that he can read minds when he’s not trying to pretend that he doesn’t have a gift, and Logan extends the bone claws from his hands, to Peter’s both disgust and awe.
The silver-haired boy then turns to you. “Well? I’m expecting a good show. You haven’t disappointed on any other levels.”
You match his wolf’s grin measure for measure. “I’d hate to let you down on this point.”
You roll your shoulders as if to prepare for what you’re about to do, then take a deep breath. When you exhale, what spills out from your jaws is not carbon dioxide but fire, tongues of flame that twist through the air until they flicker into nothingness just before hitting the walls and ceiling.
Peter whistles slightly. “Wow. Can I assume they call you Dragon or something else cool like that?”
You smirk. “Exactly right. Maybe Charles isn’t the only mind reader.”
Truth be told, you’re glad Peter took the news of your powers so well. A lot of people are afraid, somewhat understandably, of someone who could light their entire house ablaze with a sigh. The two of you also have plenty of time to get each other better over the long car ride, as well as the trip into the Pentagon.
You have to admit that you’re fond of him. Was there ever a question of that? You’ve never met a boy who knew every facet of you so well, yet was still so dedicated to making you smile at a moment’s notice. Certainly nobody has ever offered you a baseball cap stolen from an FBI agent before.
Needless to say, you’re quite enjoying his company. So, when the six of you, including Erik Lehnsherr newly liberated from an all-plastic prison, arrive at Charles’ private jet to take you away to your next destination, you assume that you’ll be able to chat with Peter during the trip.
However, he hangs back by the car, as if he isn’t going. The others have started up ahead, but you jog back to him when you notice that he isn’t moving.
“Hey, aren’t you coming? I’m not saying that Logan’s going to try and take up several of the best seats for him and his unnecessarily long legs, but it might happen. We should go get a place before it’s too late.”
Peter chuckles, although his smile seems forced. “I don’t think I’m coming on this part of the trip, angel.”
The happy expression on your face drops as quickly as a sudden rain. “What do you mean, you’re not coming? We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Peter reaches forward to absentmindedly fix the collar of your jacket, but judging by the fact that he’s actually making the creases worse instead of straightening it out, he’s just looking for an excuse to stay close to you for at least a second longer.
“I’m not the one making the choice. I don’t have enough experience in the field, and they don’t want to mess this up.”
You grasp his hands from where they’re still worrying your collar, and they freeze instantly beneath your touch. “That’s absurd. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Peter gives you his best attempt at a lopsided smile. “Hey, I think you could take out all of us if you tried. This is probably what’s best, anyway. I haven’t been one of your X-People for long enough, and you have.”
You’ve said your share of goodbyes before, but you don’t think any of them has hurt as much as this one. “Peter, please. If we argued now we could probably convince them to let you come with us. It’s not like you’d slow us down.”
Peter chuckles at the joke, but you can tell that his mind’s been made up. “I’ll see you on the other side, alright? I can visit sometime soon.”
You haven’t known Peter that long, but you’ve learned enough about him to know that this is a lie. You let him have it, though. It makes for a quieter goodbye than accusing him of not caring.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”
Charles calls to you, and you walk away without another word. Every step away hurts, but you don’t dare let yourself look back. You think Peter might have meant to say something, because there’s a slight scuffle of footsteps behind you as if he’s about to run to you, but he stops himself just in time.
You’re in a frightful mood by the time you get on the plane, and throw yourself into the copilot’s seat without another word.
Hank gives you a surprised look. “What, are you that sad about leaving your future boyfriend of two days?”
You give him a glare over your shoulder, and although he’s the one who can turn into the blue-furred Beast, your expression must have been monstrous enough that Hank shuts up immediately. “Alright, alright. My bad.”
You don’t say another word for the whole fight, even when Charles, Erik, and Logan get into a fight bad enough that Erik causes the plane to start taking a nosedive. They manage to apologize, after all, and you’re still breathing when the aircraft lands.
It doesn’t mean you’ve healed, though. Even after the mission ends somewhat successfully and Logan goes back to his future body, you still find yourself stuck on the one boy you left behind. Does Peter think about you, from time to time, when he lights a candle or laughs at someone else’s joke? You know you think of him on measures of equal unimportance.
You don’t see him, though, not for years. As expected, Peter does not show up at Xavier’s School, even when it opens up again for real and students start pouring in. There are no late-night telephone calls, no letter addressed to you in hesitantly scrawled ink. It’s as if the tie that had bound the two of you together has been abruptly cut short.
Or, you don’t see him until the world starts to end. Apocalypse himself, some primordial god who has recently awoken seemingly for the sole task of ruining your lives, appears out of the blue in Xavier’s School, taking Charles with him. Alex Summers, angered, lets out a blast of energy that destroys the whole school. You fully expect to die when the explosions start going off, but for some reason, you don’t.
You blink, and when you open your eyes, you’re standing out in the lawn, watching the mansion blow itself to hell. You’re not alone, either; to your side is the person responsible for the fact that you’re still alive, and it is Peter Maximoff.
You stare at him, unable to speak. You’ve thought about this moment many times before, so you should have at least some idea of what to say, but nothing comes to mind.
Peter manages to control himself a little faster than you. “Y/N. It’s good to see you again.”
You nod, and in this moment you remember what you’ve been thinking about all this time. “You left. You never tried to even talk to me.”
Peter grimaces. “I tried, but-”
You cut him off. “No, you didn’t. You never gave me your number, but I gave you mine. You could have done this at any time, and don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we’re not all dead, but it’s been ten years. Don’t start up a conversation like nothing’s ever happened, because plenty has happened, and you weren’t here for any of it.”
You can’t deal with this, not now, so you stride briskly away to find Hank. You need to figure out what’s going on and how to deal with the dozens of young mutants suddenly without a home or mentor, and you can’t do that while you’re thinking about the boy who broke your heart a decade ago.
You do your best to not think about it at all, actually. This grows more difficult as time progresses, but you manage to keep up a stony silence. You speak to Peter as you must, but you refuse to let yourself become captivated by his smile again, or get to a point where you’ll miss him when he goes, because there is no chance that this story ends without him leaving again.
The only caveat to your plan, then, is what happens in the final battle between Apocalypse and the X-Men. You and the rest are hiding from the vengeful mutant, trying to figure out how to get a newly hairless Charles away despite the fact that he seems inches from death. Then, in the clearing below, you see Peter taking on Apocalypse alone.
He seems to be winning at first, and then Apocalypse catches on to what he’s doing and traps him in the earth, breaking his leg. You think you cry out, but Hank managed to clap a hand over your mouth just in time so you don’t give away your position. You watch, frozen by fear, as Psylocke approaches, ready to slit his throat.
She doesn’t, though, because this is not Psylocke but Mystique. Still, the fact that Peter nearly died and is now gravely injured doesn’t escape you. Even after you and your friends manage to incinerate Apocalypse once and for all, you’re still terrified that Peter might die out here on this battlefield. The second you can, you race to his side, reaching for a hand that you’re only half certain will take yours.
His fingers close around you, and you let out a slow breath of relief. Somewhere behind you, Charles is calling for someone to get medical help, but you can’t leave, not yet.
Peter speaks, his voice raspy. “I’m sorry. I should have come to you sooner.”
You shake your head. “Don’t. We can’t change the past, not anymore. I just need you to be alright.”
He smiles, that same crooked smile you’ve loved and then despised and are now loving again, over and over in cycles. “Of course you need me, sweetheart. We’re wonderful together.”
You let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, and pull him closer to you. “You’re such an idiot, Peter Maximoff.”
He grins. “Ah, but I’m your idiot.”
This time, your laugh is real. “Yeah, you are. I love you for that.”
“I love you too,” he says, and you think you’ve never heard any collection of words sound sweeter. The battle is over, the world is saved, and you have the boy you love right here in front of you. Nothing could be better.
xmen tag list: @enchantedcruelsummer, @awaywiththe, @amourtentiaa, @elaineygrace, @rogueanschel, @caswinchester2000
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treasure-hwa · 2 years
Text
track 6. MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT
feat: san x reader
release date: february 12th 2022
genre: strangers to lovers; fluff, suggestive
word count: 2000
warnings: mentions of drunkenness
author's note: I am quite proud of this one!!! I liked how it came out, although I didn't incorporate all the feelings the song had, the story is more focused on the fluffy side! Enjoy <3
All About Luv Day Masterlist
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Your friend nagging and getting you drunk the whole night made you do this. In your opinion, you are not to blame for downloading the hottest dating app of the moment and drunkenly matching with a random guy when you arrived at home from the pub you had gone to.
Of course, you were only able to remember that clearly because, in the morning, you woke up with an annoying sound blaring on your ear and making your head spin. Barely opening one eye, you recognized said friend’s pic on the screen, so you tried your best to lift your heavy arm to accept the call, however you were not fast enough. Instead, you were facing the unread notifications on your lockscreen and, when, through the sleepiness covering your eyes, you recognized the app icon and a message, it's safe to say you almost fell off the bed.
"Are you drunk or are you truly bad at writing? XD"
You scoffed reading the message, but, after going through the small conversation you had with the guy on the previous day, he had a point. About his face- wow, you get a lot of points, unknown boy! You thought to yourself while swiping on the available photos: he goes to the gym, his fashion sense is okay, his hair and skin looks flawless, oh, cat pics! The description sounded nice too and made you laugh a little.
"Choi San ⛰ 22 yo, dancer, life enthusiast. An introvert excited guy looking for someone with whom I can laugh and live nice moments with (but my little girl Byeol will always be more important!!) I may sound boring, but you could try talking to me to confirm it (I'm not good at writing these)."
Half an hour and a breakfast full of thinking later, you decided you could try meeting this guy, who looked like a pretty normal one, and he had liked you too, right? Even if your profile was badly made and there weren't many photos, drunk you knew what was your best photo and uploaded that as the main one. The most that could happen was you two not really matching, right? Not thinking twice this time, you started another conversation.
Y/N: Hey, sorry for yesterday. I was indeed a little drunk. I hope I didn't sound too dumb XD
SAN: It was a bit funny, I can't deny, but I understand
SAN: So, Y/N, right?
Y/N: Yes. San?
SAN: That's my name
SAN: Were you celebrating anything special yesterday?
Y/N: No, nothing in particular. Just the end of a good week, I guess
SAN: A valid reason. It's important to celebrate these little moments
Y/N: Ah, so that's your "life enthusiast" side?
SAN: Yeah, I can't help myself ^^
Y/N: I like it ^^
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Surprising yourself, you and San kept talking for the next two weeks. Your "relationships" had never lasted long enough neither interested you enough, after a few tries, you decided you were okay with having no partners, even if deep down a whispering dark voice inside you said it was your fault for never having a decent relationship.
Knowing that, your friend kept her nagging by telling you to try more, to meet someone new, outside your social circle, to "breathe a different air". You knew she was just worried about you, after all she knew you better than anyone else. You thought having a date with a guy you met online just two weeks before was quite different already, however your friend would hear none of that until you were sure something good could come out of it.
You and San would meet in the park, a crowded place, perfect and safe enough for a first date. When you spotted a man that looked like San sitting on the bench and looking up to the trees, you thought you were delirious and having a fever dream, since there was no way someone could look that good in real life. Your expectations were high, but damn, he exceeded all of them.
— Y/N? Hi! — his excited wave made you wake up and walk towards him, hands firmly gripping your small purse. — Hi, I’m San!
— Nice to meet you in person, San!
— My pleasure — he got up and smiled, unaware of the effects his presence had on you. He had dimples!
San wasn’t too tall, but his wide shoulders and body proportions in general could fool anyone. He was wearing a long-sleeved white t-shirt tucked inside light jeans, a navy blue jacket and sneakers and his black hair was styled like a comma, his fringe falling on his forehead just like those k-drama’s actors’ you loved so much. Quite perfectly simple for a first date, you thought to yourself, but you were sure he would be able to pull off even a flowery shirt.
— You look beautiful, by the way — he complimented you, scratching his nape. — More beautiful than in your photos.
— Thank you. You look really good too, I liked your hair style.
— Thanks, I styled it like this because you said you liked it on actors and such.
His shy giggle prompted yours and conversation flowed from there.
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Two weeks of dates now and then, a kiss here and there later, you two weren’t in an official relationship, but it felt like it, specially when he would send you messages to talk about the most trivial things, like the color of the sky, the moon, an episode of a k-drama you recommended to him etc. But the moment you most felt like his girlfriend was when you went to his house, that he shared with his best friend, and both the friend and San’s cat/daughter, Byeol, approved of you.
— She didn’t even warm up to me that easily, you know — Wooyoung, the friend, told you, pointing to the fur ball on your lap.
— She’s adorable — you said with a smile on your face. — I love cats.
— That must be why you like San so much.
— Oh, I-
Before you could finish your sentence, the man in question entered the living room and threw himself on top of his friend.
— Wooyoung, weren’t you going out? Leave us alone~
The younger rolled his eyes and pushed San to the floor.
— I am. Have fun, love birds, but not too much.
Not too long after that day, you were sleeping safe and sound, wrapped in your favorite blanket and dreaming of a certain someone, when your phone rang. The ID caller showed it was the man of your dreams, quite literally.
— San? It's — you looked at the clock on your nightstand, — four in the morning. Why are you calling me?
His voice was excited when he told you he was in front of your house, but didn't want to knock because it could scare you. You didn't really know what you were thinking of when you grabbed your sleeping robe and went to meet him in front of your house, but you did it and you were happy with your sleepy choices, because San looked weirdly good with his messy hair and gray sweater, leaning against his black car.
— You came here, in the middle of the night, to see me in your pajamas? — you joked, voice still a little raspy from sleep, raising an eyebrow. — Lovely.
He chuckled and grabbed your hand, pulling you against his front.
— I had to. I know we have a date later today, but I couldn’t wait for the morning to rise, so here I am, in all my pajamas glory, to give you love.
— Give me love? — He smirked and opened the car door for you. — What a gentleman. Where are we going, by the way?
— Would you like ice cream? — he answered, starting the car.
— Sounds nice.
You smiled and he gave you his hand, palm facing upwards, so you intertwined your fingers and let his hand rest on your thigh.
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— It's all happening so fast, San — you breathed out into the passionate kiss he was giving you.
— Sorry, I just can't stay away from you.
— Don't apologize, I never said it was bad — your hands held his face for an instant, so you saw his smirk before he proceeded to kiss down your neck, an action that made you giggle because it kind of tickled.
For those who want to know, you did have ice cream, however things might have scaled a little when, in the middle of your cups, San asked to take a sip of yours. You didn’t have a problem with sharing so you let him taste it, but when he said he liked and wanted more, you were not expecting him to cup your face with one hand and to kiss you. A surprise, but a delicious surprise, you had to say.
So that’s why his seat was currently away from the steering wheel and you were on his lap, his hands placed on your warm waist under the robe and yours, on his shoulders, that you adored. What happened in that car, parked on an empty parking lot near your neighborhood, that night, however, should remain a secret.
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The sun was already up in the sky when you decided it was time to come back, so San drove to your home while you played with his fingers. Both of you had a smile lighting up your faces, wishing that morning could last forever.
— We should do that again.
He took his eyes out of the road to look at you for a second and asked with a smirk evident on his voice:
— Hm, should we? I am not opposed.
— I’m talking about watching the sunrise, you pervert.
— Me too. What were you thinking about, uh? Pervert.
Another thing you liked about Choi San: he made you laugh about the silliest things, so much your cheeks were always hurting after a date with him. You would keep laughing and smiling had you not noticed the street you were entering.
— San, don’t go this way!
— Uh, why?
— My friend lives here! And at this hour, she’s probably having her morning walk.
Silently, the man obeyed you and made a turn, taking another way to your house, which wasn’t far. When you arrived, he got out of the car and opened the door for you, even offering his hand for help, however, his face wasn’t one of happiness anymore.
— San… did I say something wrong?
He pouted and held your hands together and asked without looking in your eyes:
— Why don’t you want your friend to see us?
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, freeing your hands to cup his face.
— It’s not like that. I will tell her about you, I just wanted to be sure this would last.
The seconds in silence killed you a little, since you interpreted them in a bad way. You wanted San to tell you you two were going to be together, that you were something, that you could boast to your friend about the awesome relationship you had. You wanted something, anything.
— Y/N… I came to your house in the middle of the night because I couldn’t get my mind off of you, because I hate sleeping alone and I wanted to hear your voice and wanted to hold you until the sun was up. And you did all of this with me. I’m sorry for not saying this before, but if you want me to stay for the rest of my life, you got me.
You were taking the risk of your noisy neighbor seeing you two in front of your house, in pajamas, but you simply didn’t care and pulled him to a passionate, relieved kiss.
— I got you.
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taglist: @laconic-abditory @ellelabelle
© treasure-hwa 2022, all rights reserved. do not repost or translate in any platform
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
Text
PAPER-THIN WALLS
a/n: i woke up totally in themood to write just straight up smut... and that's what i did lmao. there's not much plot in it, just a whole lot of fucking, so enjoy!
pairing: Bucky X Reader
warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, oral, the good stuff
word count: 3.8k
masterlist
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The Avengers compound was built almost perfectly with its luxurious suits, several entertainment rooms, fully equipped training areas and millions of hidden snack and drink bars all across the building. But the stress this time is on almost.
Bucky was never sure if the walls were originally built to keep less noise than in any other buildings, or if it was just his super hearing that allowed him to catch conversations and noises that weren’t meant for his ears. He would often hear gossiping agents as he walked down the hallways, or Vision and Wanda talk about recipes and TV shows in her room and there was this one time he heard Nat and Bruce have a discussion that was surely not meant to be heard by anyone but the two of them. He is still trying to get rid of the words he heard.
Having a room next to yours, he often sat on his bed, hearing you shuffling around, humming to yourself. As the latest addition to the Avengers, you felt a little out of place at the compound, like you were a stranger to the team even though they never gave you a reason to think so. This feeling of not belonging is what brought you closer to the century old super soldier on the other side of the wall, who despite being free from the claws of Hydra finally, still felt like an outsider in the superhero filled complex. Bucky always thought he was hard to make friends with, but he had to realize that it was all about who he was trying to make friends with. Because with you, it was an instant, like he had known you his whole life, you’ve definitely become one of the closest people to his heart in a very short time.
With this friendship came some undeniable feelings and tension from Bucky’s part. He couldn’t help but fall for you, how couldn’t he? He would have been surprised if it didn’t happen, after spending so much time with you. He found himself craving your presence, to be with you, talk to you and listen to you at the same time. He was a sucker for your lame jokes that he would laugh at even if they weren’t that funny. He loved your enthusiasm whenever you brought a new book and basically told him the whole plot, spoiling the story, but he never minded, because the way you rambled in excitement made up for everything.
And of course, he has been attracted to you since day one. Even when you weren’t that close, he couldn’t deny how much it affected him when he saw you spar with Steve at the gym in just some tight shorts and a sports bra, or when you linger around in the kitchen early in the morning wearing only an oversized shirt and your underwear hidden under the long fabric. It stirred his fantasies that’ve been sleeping for decades and late at night, when he was lying in his bed restless, his vibranium hand firmly curling around his erection, he thought about you. How you’d taste and feel, what it would be like to have your body pressed against his, his name falling from your lips in a whimper as he pleases you all over and over again. Sometimes he felt dirty after an elaborate fantasy, barely able to look into your eyes, but he just couldn’t help it. You had him in the palm of your hand.
What he doesn’t know is that he is not the only one with fantasies and desires. Because on the other side of the wall, you’ve often found yourself craving the mixture of warm and cold touch from flesh and metal hands, toned muscles flexing under your palms, pink lips whispering into your ears as you arch against his body… Bucky has been living in your mind rent free and you’ve been having a hard time containing your desire for the super soldier.
Having sex dreams is not at all a new thing for you. It happens every once in a while, waking from a heated scene only to find yourself alone in the comfort of your room, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to bring yourself back to reality. It was never an inconvenience, but in the past few days it’s been getting worse. You’ve had a wet dream for three days in a row, jolting awake right when you were about to climax, a wave of disappointment washing over your body as you fisted the sheets in your sweaty palms. And the worst part? All of them have been about Bucky.
It’s another sleepless night for Bucky, nothing new. He has tried to chase himself into sleep with everything already, TV, ready, music, even counting sheep, but nothing seems to be working, so he is left with lying in his bed, staring at the blank ceiling, the soft bed sheet throw across his naked upper body, only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, because it’s been hot these past week, but he is not a fan of using the air-condition. The dogtags are lying messily on his naked chest, his vibranium finger playing with the wrinkles of the sheets mindlessly.
His eyes slowly flutter closed, a promise of some rest finally nearing the corner, but right just then, he hears some muffled noise coming from the other side of the wall. His eyes snap open as he sits up, trying to make out what it is, but he catches no words, just… grunts and some shallow panting, as if someone was struggling.
What if you’re sick and something is wrong? You’ve been a little worn off the past days, maybe something was lingering in you.
Kicking the sheets off of himself, he pads his way to the door, his bare feet tapping on the hardwood floor as he walks out of his room, heading to yours, stopping at the door. Pressing his flesh hand to the door he takes a moment to listen to the voices so he can make out what’s happening, but it really feels like you’re in a struggle, but he has no idea why. Knocking lightly on the door he hopes to get an answer, but nothing of sort comes and he stays still, debating whether he should go in or just leave. Right when he is about to retreat he hears you gasping, as if you’re at a short of breath and it pushes him to check in on you.
Opening the door he pops his head inside, the darkness fully taking up the room, your king sized bed in the middle, a few strikes of moonlight sneaking through the curtains that are not entirely drawn.
“Y/N?” he calls out softly, not wanting to startle you, but no answer comes once again, however he can see your figure tossing and turning under the sheets, another gasp slipping through your lips.
He walks closer, stopping at your bedside, seeing how your eyebrows are pulled together tensely, chest heaving as you keep moving around. Bucky feels like an intruder, you’re definitely asleep, probably having a nightmare, but he is not sure if he should be in here. Should he wake you? Or just leave? Would you be mad if you found him here upon waking up? After some hesitation he decides it’s better if he leaves, but right as he turns around, taking just one step towards the door, he finally hears a word from you.
“Bucky,” you whine, his name coming out a little slurred, but still clear to him. “Bucky, please!” you continue, his eyes widening as his head snaps around, eyes returning to you. You’re still asleep, but he notices your hand moving down your chest and then disappearing under the sheets, between your legs. That’s when he realizes that it’s not a nightmare. You’re having a sex dream about him.
Clearly trying to chase your release, your lips part as you moan, the voice instantly making Bucky’s cock twitch while hardening. His hands curl into fists as he is fighting himself whether he should do something or leave, but when his name slips through your lips again, he goes feral. He would be damned if he lets you get stuck in your dream when he can please you in real life.
He finds himself striding back to your bed faster like ever, like an elegant lion, hungry for his prey as one of his knees sink into the mattress between your open legs, keeping his weight up on one arm while the other finds your waist. The shirt you always sleep in has ridden up to just below your breasts, the exposed skin watering Bucky’s mouth as he squeezes your waist gently but firmly enough to wake you from your fever dream.
Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him slack-mouthed, your brain barely able to process the sudden change between the Bucky in your dream and the one holding himself up above you in real life.
“Bucky? I—“ you breathe out, the cloud of confusion on your head making it hard to even form a sentence. He leans down, his face just inches away from yours and even though it’s quite dark, his blue eyes are basically piercing. His dogtags fall to your chest, right above your wildly racing heart and you wonder if he can hear the pounding in your ribcage.
“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers and without a warning, his lips crash down onto yours.
It’s so hard and passionate, filled with hunger and longing, the air gets knocked right out of your chest as you eagerly kiss him back while he slowly moves himself until he is fully between your legs, his hips coming down to meet yours and you moan when you feel his erection pressing against your already soaking wet core. Your hands find their way up into his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and he can’t stop himself from growling at your action, grinding himself against your hips, both of you desperate to take it further.
Pushing himself up into a kneeling position, he grabs your panties and tugs them down your bare legs, throwing them across the room before he rids you from your shirt as well, so now you’re lying completely naked in front of his lustful eyes. He could devour you with just his icy blue eyes, he looks glorious, towering above you with his broad, muscular shoulders and toned chest, you’ve never been more desperate for a man before.
Your desire takes action, pushing yourself up your lips meet his chest, kissing the hot skin, your tongue sloppily pressing against him as you make your way up on his body. His vibranium fingers tangle into your hair as he holds the back of your head, pulling you up to kiss you again, both of you in a kneeling position while your hand reaches into his underwear, palming his hard cock, feeling up his size before you push the fabric down and he kicks it off easily, his erection now pressed between the two of you teasing and tempting you, making you buck your hips forward just for the slightest friction.
“Were you dreaming of me, doll? Huh?” he questions, his lips nibbling on your lower lip as he takes it between his teeth and gently tugs on it.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hips before they move down to his bare ass, pulling him closer to you, earning a moan from him.
“And what was I doing in your dream?” He kisses down your neck, stopping at a soft spot before he starts sucking and biting on it, marking you as his, something he’s been aching to do since the moment he laid eyes on you for the first time. Your brain almost shuts down, one of his hands is on your jaw, keeping your head in place, while the other one is gripping your waist harshly, his fingers digging into your muscles. You fail to answer his question as just a whimper leaves your lips at the sensation.
“Words, sweetheart. Use your words for me, will you?”
“I, uhh—You used your f-fingers,” you croak out, a satisfied grin tugging on Bucky’s lips at your words.
He pushes you back on the bed, making you lie on your back as he gets on top of you once again, but this time he doesn’t stay like that long, after a hard kiss he climbs down until his face aligns with your core, his hands parting your legs widely, baring you to him fully.
“Tell me, where did I use my fingers?” he hums, face so close to your center that you can feel his hot breath on you. He teases you, running his hands up and down your spread thighs, his fingers just grazing your folds before moving away every time.
“Bucky, please!” you cry out, grinding your hips up, but you only reach his chin before he leans back with a pleased grin on his face.
“Just tell me and I’ll do it. Where did I use my fingers?” he repeats.
“On my pussy! You fingered me!” you groan, your cheeks heating up from the blunt comment you just made, but it’s exactly what Bucky wanted to hear.
Two of his fingers find your clit easily, starting off with slowly drawing circles on it, stimulating your nerves and it’s nothing like in your dream. You curse under your breath when his fingers move to your hole and he pushes both of them inside, his lips taking their place on your clit.
“Oh fuck!” you groan in pleasure, your hands immediately snapping to his head, fingers lacing into his chocolate locks as you shamelessly grind against his face.
Bucky is not a man of many words, but god damn, he can use his mouth like a fucking master. It feels like your whole body is on fire, you’re sweating and shaking, his fingers curl inside you every time he thrusts into you and he is stroking that one heavenly spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. His tongue is slick and sloppy against your wet pussy, but he is drinking it all up as if you were his last meal before death.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum! Bucky!” you gasp as your back arches at the sensation, your orgasm building up rapidly.
“Cum on my tongue and fingers, let me make your dream come true,” he growls against your heat, picking up the pace of his fingers which completely throws you over the edge.
You come with chanting his name over and over again as you ride your high, thighs shaking and tightening on either side of his head until you’re finally able to catch your breath.
Bucky pushes himself up, his lips glistening from your juices and you watch him wipe his mouth with his fingers, licking them afterwards like he just finished eating a chocolate cake, a satisfied grin on his ridiculously handsome face. He crawls up on you until his lips can finally reach yours again, kissing you in a slower pace, but still with a lot of passion to offer.
“Tonight wasn’t my first sex dream about you,” you slyly admit, lips brushing against his as you speak.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm, so there’s more to act out.” His still hard cock twitches again and you’re fast to reach down and palm him again, wrapping a hand around him as you give his cock a few lazy stokes, but it surely has an effect on him.
You’re quick to turn him over, pushing him to lie on his back as you straddle him, steading yourself with holding onto his waist, his eyes bore into yours intently and your mouth hangs open when you grind against him, his hard cock sliding between your wet folds.
“The other day, I dreamed about riding you, your cock filled me up so good, but right when I was about to cum I woke up,” you tell him, not sure how this sudden confidence came from, but you just can’t help yourself. Bucky growls at your words as his fingers dig into your thighs.
“Then let’s make up for that, love,” he breathes out and you nod eagerly, lifting yourself up just enough to position him to your hole and then you sink down as far as you can, his dick filling you up inch by inch and your breath hitches when you finally settle, his length fully buried inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” you whine before you start moving yourself up and down his cock, grinding back and forth, the feeling of him inside you so intoxicating, you think for a moment that this might still be your dream. If it is, you hope you don’t wake up this time.
Though your training has strengthened your legs so you are able to ride him in this position longer, it still tires you out. Bucky notices when your movements slow down, his hands running up your torso, kneading your breasts before they end up on the back of your neck, pulling you down so you lie on top of him, his strong arms wrapping around you. His lips kiss the side of your head before he starts thrusting up into you, doing the work for you this time. You can’t stop yourself from moaning and whimpering as your second orgasm is starting to build up, your senses are on the edge.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close,” he gasps, his thrusts becoming a little uncoordinated and you feel the same way, only moments away from your climax.
You push yourself up, pulling him with you, wanting to take back control before you both reach your relief, you get into a sitting position that allows you to grind in his lap, moving your hips back and forth as fast as you can. Bucky’s lips find yours again, kissing your sloppily before they travel down your neck and he licks at your collarbone as you hold onto his broad shoulders.
“You feel so fucking good, oh God!” he whines, his head falling backwards as you keep moving, both of you sweating, but neither of you really cares, you’re just relentlessly chasing your high again.
“I want to feel you cum. Please, Bucky!” you beg him, squeezing your walls around him, the action completely maddening the man as he holds you to his chest and flips you over with ease, his body weighing down on you as he starts fucking into you fast and hard. You could throw a fuss about how he took control again, but you don’t mind it, not at all. Because the way he pounds into you, his cock disappearing to the last inch inside you with each thrust, your whole body starts shaking as your orgasm finally reaches you.
Your squeeze your walls again around him and the moment he hears his name fall from your trembling lips he cums inside of you, filling you up entirely, marking you with his pleasure.
He rides his high with a few more sloppy thrusts until he stops, his forehead falling against yours as you both try to catch your breath. He captures your lips in a soft and slow kiss, so different from the ones you shared before. Then he finally rolls off of you and you let out a displeased grunt when you feel him slide out of you.
For a while it’s just the silence in the room mixed with your soft panting, but he is the first one to break it as his head rolls to the side, looking at you with those fucked-out eyes of his.
“How long have you been having these dreams?” he asks, turning to his side so his hand can spread out on your naked stomach, fingers drawing tiny circles on your sweaty skin.
“A while,” you admit.
“I wish I heard you earlier through the wall,” he chuckles, but your eyes widen.
“Wait, what? You heard me through the wall?”
“Yeah. Thought something was wrong so I came over to check on you.”
“God, I must have been really loud,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands, but he is quick to peel them off and leaning closer he kisses your lips gently.
“Don’t blame yourself, these walls are like paper. And besides…” A sly smirk tugs on his lips as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb running along the line of your bottom lip. “I fucking love it when you’re loud.”
“I wasn’t even screaming yet,” you tease back, your comment definitely catching him off-guard, but he likes it.
“We’ll get there next time.”
You and Bucky walk into the kitchen in the morning, completely oblivious to the rest of the world, still in the bliss of last night. Nat, Tony and Steve are sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on their morning coffee when you emerge from your room, all eyes immediately glued to the pair of you.
“Well, good morning, everyone,” you chuckle a little nervously, not sure what the stares mean.
“Morning,” Nat smirks, shaking her head before she turns back to the newspaper unfolded in front of her.
“Nice of you to make an appearance, I have some news to share with you all,” Tony announces as you pour some coffee for yourself while Bucky grabs everything he needs to make breakfast for the two of you. Nodding you signal to Tony that you’re listening. “I decided to do some remodeling on the compound.”
“Oh, what are you getting done?” you ask, wondering what could possibly need work on the building.
“Nothing major, I’m just gonna make the walls soundproof, so we don’t have to listen to you guys fucking all night long.”
You almost choke on your coffee at Tony’s blunt comment, cheeks heating up right away, you were not expecting that. Though he is looking at you and Bucky, who is now standing behind you with a hand on your waist, with a stern expression, you can see the small smile hiding in his eyes. He finds the situation rather amusing instead of annoying.
“Yeah, next time maybe keep it down a little,” Steve suggests as he stands from his seat, grabbing his mug. Walking past the two of you, he pats Bucky’s shoulder however. “But I’m glad you guys are finally getting it on,” he comments before walking out, Nat and Tony following him right after, leaving just you and Bucky in the kitchen.
You glance up at him with concern in your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, but he doesn’t seem to be ashamed at all. Instead, he leans down, pecks your lips shortly and then whispers:
“I told you. Paper-thin walls.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years
Note
Ah shit here we go again
Btw this is moth shigaraki
So imagine this you work at this place that’s like a zoo that has moths and other creatures ( u can tell I’m struggling) so ur coworkers were trying to get this baby moth inside it’s cage but it kept panicking and crying ( I think u know who is this baby moth) u went to see what’s up that’s how u saw the most beautiful moth u ever seen, you picked up the baby moth ( meanwhile ur coworkers were panicking) it just calmed down everyone was 👁👄👁 long story short u were now in charge of shigaraki, u took care of him feed him u did everything, until he was literally taller then u are ( moths grow up fast ok?) shigaraki was in love with u even when u had ur days off ( he absolutely hated when u had to leave home boy would throw tantrums) he would never let anyone touch him if anyone did they might of lost a couple of fingers, when u came back from ur break he would be attach to ur hip he would not let go not to mention he probably scratched the hell out of his neck so u had to deal with that, oh yeah he was overprotective of u won’t anyone touch u
Let’s just say u were super sick so u had to take a week off, u were devastated that ur not gonna be able to see shigaraki (u had to admit that u have fallen in love with him) so for now u were trying to get better, meanwhile shigaraki was losing his shit he thought u left him ( or dead💀 lmao) he couldn’t wait anymore so he escaped, it was easy finding where u lived since he memorized ur scent, u suddenly heard a noise come out of room ( u went to get some water or something idk sis) as u entered u found shigaraki, shigaraki ran to u and just hugged ( basically crashed u with his two sets of arms) he started to cry he wouldn’t let go, u got super worried and asked him what’s wrong, so he explained what happened then u suddenly felt super weak and almost fainted shigaraki was panicking asking if ur ok, u said that u had a fever thats all, shigaraki just put u back on the bed, shigaraki finally had the opportunity to repay u, he had read somewhere that sex can help ( it’s totally not an excuse for him to see u naked) he just wants to please u( his mommy 😏) his wings vibrated at the thought of pleasing u, let just say u had no problem with it. ( so when shigaraki is done reader flops shigaraki on the bed and fucks the shit out of him as a thank u gift lollll)
Kinks umm sub shigaraki whos eager to please and dom reader, this one hundred percent has a mommy kink umm I cant think of anything, this isn’t my best ideas so feel free to ignore this 😔😫
-🤡
Storms
Tomothura :) 🦋
I'm sleepy, and I want milk and cookies. Not to flex, but I only have to see my therapist every other week cause ig I'm just perfect.
Update I now see her once a week and have to take dbt a THIRD (?) time
I have a bad smell and taste in my mouth and nose from covid. It reminds me of meatballs but in the worst way :/
Warnings: masturbation, heat, vaginal sex, humping, loss of virginity (both parties), breeding, & mommy kink.
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I have rewritten this six times. No matter how much I write, whether it's 100 words or 1,000,000 words, I can't create a smooth transition between y/n's like caregiver (?) relationship with Shiggy to a romantic/sexual relationship with him. To put it simply, I give up 💀 . HOWEVER, I did cook up another scenario in my mind, so even though I have strayed from the original blueprint, I will still deliver a moth Shigaraki fic to all of you <3
To those of you brave people who aren't scared of storms:
1) I envy you.
2) I apologize because I need y/n to be scared of storms for my plot.
Thinking abt writing a poly relationship with y/n shigaraki and dabi. It’d just be so cute.
On another unrelated note: why did I get put on the gross end of scent kinks (yes, those exist)? Instead of being like, “mmm sexy cologne,” I'm like, “Dabi reeking after being on a long mission and cuddling, so I have to smell him and get his sweat on me, ” like Claire. Control yourself.
It was a beautiful night. The only light around you was the moon, the stars, and dozens of fireflies. It was warm and calm, no wind, no rain, not even a chill though the sun had set. You walked further through the forest. Your friends had gotten tired and retired to the campsite. You, however, had chosen to wander some more. You found clarity in the woods at night.
You stumbled upon a beautiful pond surrounded by luscious green trees. Lily pads floated in the water, and frogs croaked. The number of fireflies had increased, and little fairy circles littered the ground (you were careful not to step in them). There was a little cabin up a small hill. It had wooden walls and small windows which stopped you from seeing the inside.
You checked the time, 12:55 a.m. As you walked back, it started to rain. Great. A little rain never hurt anyone, right? But then it began to storm. The kind of storm that knocked loose widow makers, that made the ground shake, and could cause mudslides. You had to get inside and fast. You were closest to the cottage from earlier, and the trees got thicker by your campsite. You ran back as fast as you could and knocked on the door.
“Hello? Is anyone in there? It's storming, and my campsite is too far away, ” you called.
“It's open, ” a voice called.
You opened the door and shut it quickly, not wanting to be out in the storm for a second longer. Then, you took off your shoes.
“I’m making tea for us, ” the voice said.
“Oh, it's ok. You really don't have to-”
“I didn't ask you, ” the voice said again, “just accept my hospitality, ”
You sat down on the couch and scrolled through your phone. Even though you had sworn it had 50% left, it was now nearly dead.
“Do you have a phone charger I could borr-” the lights flickered off, “never mind, ”
Here you were, trapped in a stranger's house as it stormed with nothing but a dead phone and no power. The stranger walked into the room, and your first reaction was to scream.
“Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, ” Shigaraki said, setting down your tea.
“You're- you have- what are- y-you have, ” you stuttered in shock.
“Yeah, I've got wings and shit. Calm down, ” Tomura said, taking a sip of his tea.
You sat in silence for a moment as you processed.
“I'm tomura shigaraki, ” he said, “if we're stuck here together while it storms, we might as well know each other's names, ”
“I'm y/n, ” you said.
“Pretty name, ” Shigaraki said.
“Thank you, ” you nodded, “so how long do you think the storm will last?”
“No idea, but here it can rain for up to five days, ” he said.
“Oh, ” you said.
“It’ll be fine. I've got food for both of us, ” Shigaraki said.
“No, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm just scared of-” thunder roared, and lightning struck. You nearly jumped out of your seat.
“You're scared of storms, ” he finished, “you can come sit next to me if it would make you feel better or whatever, ” he offered.
You nodded and sat next to him. Despite looking...strange, his presence was very comforting. More thunder and lighting caused you to jump. He wrapped one of his soft wings around you.
“You're fine, y/n. Don't worry, ok?” Tomura said.
Did he know why he was letting you sit so close to him? No. Did he know why he wanted to comfort you? Also no.
“You're wet, ” he said.
You nearly choked, “what?”
“I’ll give you some clothes while yours are in the dryer, ” he said, getting up.
“Can I come with you?” you said, “I don't want to be alone, ”
He sighed, “sure, come on, ”
You both headed up to his room, and he threw you some clothes. Shigaraki looked at you, waiting patiently.
“Well?” he said.
“I'm not gonna change in front of you, ” you said, cheeks glowing bright red.
“I don't know why you're making it a big deal, ” he muttered, turning away.
Truthfully he'd never seen anyone naked and had lived alone most of his life. When he thought about you naked or even just in your underwear, he felt strange.
“I'll be right back, ” he muttered, heading to the bathroom.
He had a strange urge to touch himself, so he indulged. After unzipping his pants, he cupped his hardening cock gently and hissed at the new sensation. It felt weird but good. So good. He wrapped a hand around it and started stroking it gently, nearly moaning out loud.
He turned on the sink to mask any accidental noises. He kept stroking for a while longer, stifling even more noises. Soon he felt an intense tingling sensation in his balls that seemed to grow stronger and spread throughout his cock. As he finally burst, his whole body relaxed, and thick, white sticky liquid shot out of his dick. It was foreign to him, but it felt wonderful.
Meanwhile, outside, you had heard everything. You sat on the bed awkwardly as Tomura came out of the bathroom. He took your wet clothes.
“The um dryer is just downstairs, ” he said, looking towards the floor, “if you want to come with, ”
“Sure, ” you nodded, following behind him.
With your clothes in the dryer, you both sat downstairs on the couch. It was silent until you decided to try and lighten the mood.
“So what um do you like to do for fun?” you asked.
“I like games a lot, ” he said, taking a carrot off a plate of vegetables he'd gotten the two of you.
“I like games too, ” you smiled.
The both of you talked about games for a while until you nearly passed out.
“Hey, head upstairs. I'll take the couch, ” Shigaraki said, noticing your eyelids fluttering shut.
“No, I don't want to take your bed, ” you yawned.
“Get upstairs y/n. I'm serious just sleep in my fucking bed, ” Shigaraki ordered.
“But-, ”
“No, no buts, ” he interrupted.
“The least I can do is let you sleep with me. Won't you crush your wings on the couch?” you said.
“Fine. If it makes you feel better, I guess, ” Shigaraki mumbled.
You both walked upstairs. Shigaraki found a toothbrush for you, and you got into bed with him. You slept back to back, but it was cold. No, frigid. He could tell by the way you were shivering. He turned towards you and held you with both pairs of arms. A wing draped over you, and he rested his chin on your head.
“Don’t make it weird, ” he grunted.
“Ok, ” you said, sleep clouding your mind.
By the following day, you had turned towards him, and you both were completely tangled in each other. It was still storming when you woke up. You pulled Shigaraki closer, savoring his warmth.
“Morning, sleepyhead, ” he said.
“Morning, ” you responded.
He stroked your hair gently, wings humming quietly. He flipped on the light, and to your surprise, it worked. The power was back on!
“I’ll make breakfast, ” you said, getting up.
He pulled you back down, “ten more minutes. You're warm, ”
Ten minutes turned into an hour as you dozed off again. You couldn't help it, he was warm, and his nimble fingers traced designs on your back. The bed was so soft, and so were his wings. After a while, he woke you up, poking your cheek.
“Can you still make breakfast?” he said, smiling down at you.
You looked so beautiful with messy hair and tired eyes. Shigaraki couldn't help himself as he traced a finger over your lips. He saw the blush on your cheeks and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.
“You have nice lips, ” he whispered.
“Thank you, ” you said.
He sensed your breathing pick up along with your heartbeat.
“Your heart is beating really fast, y/n, ” Shigaraki said, bringing his face closer to yours, “are you alright?”
“Yeah. yeah, I'm fine, ” you said, “don't worry about me, ”
He nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“If you say so, ” he said, getting out of bed.
You already missed the warmth of his body; it was still freezing from all the rain. How could the weather change so quickly? You followed him downstairs and began to make breakfast. As you were cooking, you felt him put one of his zip-up hoodies over your shoulders.
“You look cold, ” he said, “take it, ”
“Thank you, ” you responded, pushing your arms into the sleeves immediately.
It smelled just like him. This was your routine with him for the next three days. On the morning of your fourth day, the rain had stopped. The thing is, neither of you said anything. You just went about your day together like normal. The truth is, you liked it here. You were so much happier with him in his little house than you had ever been anywhere else.
“The rain stopped over a month ago, ” he said one day, “why haven't you left?” that definitely didn't come off the way he wanted it to.
“Oh well, I can leave if you'd like-”
“No. Stay, ” he said, “I want you here,”
He got up and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.
“Stay, ” he whispered.
“I will, ” you said, pushing your face into the crook of his neck.
He held you like that for a while, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. The months flew by. Soon the leaves turned orange and red and fell to the ground. Next, the ground was bright white from the snow, and tulips began to bloom in the spring.
‘Shit,’ Shigaraki thought, ‘its spring’
He'd been feeling strange lately, and after googling his symptoms, he realized he was going into his first heat. He googled many things that night, some disgusted him, and some did quite the opposite.
“Hey y/n, you should probably head back and get your things. You've been here a while, so I'm just assuming you're staying, ” Shigaraki said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“I'm alright, ” you smiled, tending to the little garden you'd started, “I've gone into town a few times. I have everything I need, ”
“No, really, I think it would be good, ” he said.
“Shiggy, if you want me to leave, it's ok, ” you said, standing up and stroking his cheek.
He loved when you did that. It always made his wings buzz happily.
“No!” he said, “I don't want you to leave, please stay, ”
You smiled, “I'm not going anywhere, ok? You don't have to be so anxious; I'm staying, ”
He nodded, “I just- um, ”
“Go on, ” you urged, combing your fingers through his hair.
“I um think I'm going into...heat, ” he whispered the last part, “and I don't want you to have to deal with that, ”
“I don't mind, ” you said, “if it's alright with you, I’d like to stay. I'll take care of you, ”
He smiled and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.
“You're amazing, ” he said.
You giggled, “so what even happens during your heat? Do you get sick or something?”
“It’s hard to explain, ” he muttered.
“How am I supposed to take care of you if I don't know what's wrong?” you said, pouting up at him.
He shoved his phone in your hand, “here, ”
You read the screen, eyes widening and cheeks getting hot.
You looked up at him, “so you um, ”
“Yeah, ” he muttered, “as I said, you don't have to stay. I’m serious.”
You took a deep breath, “I want to stay. I want to help you in any way I can, even if it means letting you take my virginity. Truthfully I’d be happy if you did, Tomura, ”
“You would?” he asked, “are you sure?”
You nodded, “I think I've liked you for a while now. Even if you don't feel the same way, I just want you to know that I'm okay with whatever you need to do to me, ” your breath hitched at the last part.
You'd never seen yourself as submissive. You never took shit from anyone. Shigaraki didn't see you as submissive either, even with all the things you’d said. When they mixed with your tone and personality, they sounded caring but not in a submissive sense.
You were dominant, but not in the way he'd always thought of it. You were like...
“Mommy, ” he whispered.
So soft and gentle. Calm and caring but independent and strong.
“Can I call you that? It just feels...right, ” he said.
You nodded, “um sure, ”
“Mommy, ” he sighed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. Shigaraki groaned quietly.
“About what you said earlier, I like you too, y/n, ” he said.
You smiled and pecked him on the lips. After you pulled away, he pressed his lips to yours again immediately. He grabbed your hair, pulling you closer as you yelped in surprise. He laughed softly, starting to slip his tongue into your mouth. Tomura tried to dominate the kiss to no avail. Instead, he fell victim to the way you were able to move your tongue around in his mouth, leaving almost nothing untouched.
You pulled away, admiring the dark blush on his cheeks. He's so pretty.
“I'm sleepy, mommy, ” he said before yawning.
He picked you up and carried you upstairs. You laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He put you down on the bed and practically laid on top of you. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his wings act as your blanket.
“Goodnight, ” you whispered.
“G’night, mommy, ” he mumbled.
You awoke to something rubbing your thigh.
“Mommy, ” he moaned, “mommy, please. Please, it hurts so bad, mommy, ”
As you became more conscious, you realized that he was humping your thigh. He’d already made a sticky mess in his pants and on your own. You kissed him gently. Letting your soft lips contrast between the rough humping of your leg.
“Want, ” he moaned, “need to mate, mommy. I need to please, ”
“It's alright, sweetie, ” you said, pulling him between your legs.
He began humping your crotch, panting and drooling.
“Mommy, ” he slurred, “I want in. I want in you, ”
His wings had been buzzing violently ever since you agreed. One set of hands cupping your face and the other holding your hips in place as he rubbed his cock on your clothed pussy. You wiggled out of your pants with his help, and he practically ripped off his own pants. He pulled off his boxers and ripped off your panties. He shoved himself into you, nearly screaming at the way your warm wet cunt sucked his cock in. The way you clenched because he was big, so fucking big.
“Mommy, ” he chanted, “mommy, mommy, mommy, ”
He lasted a surprisingly long time, wandering fingers finding your clit. He slammed into you, slapping skin and squelching filled his ears, but all of this was drowned out by his moans and whimpers. Finally, Tomura pushed you over the edge. You clenched and came all around his cock with a loud moan.
“Mommy, ” he sobbed, “breed mommy, I need you to take my cum mommy. I need you to let me breed you and make you all pretty with my kids, ”
“Yes, Tomu, go ahead, sweetie. Breed, mommy, ” you moaned.
He gasped and sobbed as an absurd amount of cum flooded your cunt. It began to ooze out of your cunt around his cock. He collapsed on top of you, panting as his cock softened inside of you. His heat was over. His need to breed you was met. He was exhausted, couldn't move to bathe, only pass out with you safe in his arms.
Over time you did swell up with his kids. He was so excited to start a family, to claim you with his offspring. If you had his kids, you were his, end of story. No one was allowed to look at you or touch you.
‘Mommy’s so pretty when she's bred,’ he thought to himself as he kissed your stomach.
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helaintoloki · 3 years
Text
Everybody Loves Somebody
pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
warnings: slight language, themes of insecurity, angst, pining, slow burn (kinda?), eventual fluff, over 5k words in length
notes: it’s finally finished! this took forever but I swear I put my entire soul into making this as perfect as it could be. I’ve never used this format before in my writing and it was challenging but also super fun so hopefully you guys like it :) (also yes the title and the fic somewhat is inspired by the Dean Martin song)
summary: Thrown into a blind date against his will, Bucky does his best to prepare in the days leading up to Saturday night, a feat that proves to be much more difficult than expected thanks to his neighbor across the hall.
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Sunday
Three quick raps on the apartment door force Bucky to kick back the covers and sluggishly rise from his spot on the floor. He’s exhausted, but his recognition of the evenly spaced knocks on the wooden frame has him feeling compelled to answer, and so he does. Too tired to notice the television is still droning on in the background, Bucky idly wraps his discarded blanket around his form to shield his vibranium arm before opening the door to greet the old man standing on the other side.
“Rough night, huh?” Yori greets with a knowing smile.
“Something like that,” he replies with a tired, lopsided grin. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I set you up on a date,” the man says casually, as if setting Bucky up on dates without his knowledge and against his will is a common every day occurrence, and it is. “Saturday evening at six.”
“What— A date? Yori—“
“She’s a nice girl, very pretty. I think you’ll like her.”
“Now hang on a minute,” Bucky tries to interject, but Yori is already halfway down the hall before the super soldier can get another word in.
“You’re meeting her at the Italian place down the street!” Yori calls behind him. “She likes sunflowers!”
The old man’s shouts are sure to have woken up the entire fourth floor by now, but Bucky is too busy trying to process the jumble of information that has been thrust upon him so suddenly and so early in the morning to care. The last date Yori had sent him on had ended in disaster; Bucky wasn’t ready to get back out on the field, a stable relationship wasn’t in the cards for him. Surely no one in their right mind would stick around once they found out the truth about the man, and if they did it would only be a matter of time before the constant nightmares and extra baggage that came with dating the ex-Hydra assassin sent them running for the hills. But Yori meant well, Bucky knew that, and he also knew he owed the man more than he could ever give him in return, so if sitting through another painfully uncomfortable date would make him happy, then Bucky would just have to suck it up, put on the nicest shirt he owned, and charm his way through another awkward dinner.
“Sunflowers,” he grumbles to himself, quietly shutting the door before returning to his spot on the cold hardwood floor.
Monday
Monday mornings are gym mornings, early workouts that start at five and end at seven. He promptly returns to the apartment building at seven thirty, eight if he stops for breakfast, then goes to check the mail before heading back to the comfort of his sheltered apartment. He doesn’t receive much other than grocery coupons and an odd letter from the government every now and then, but he’s been told that a routine is good, it’s healthy, so on Monday mornings at seven thirty—or eight— Bucky pulls out his keys and opens his assigned metal box with a sense of indifference.
It’s eight o’clock on this particular morning, and with a half finished cup of coffee in hand the soldier opens the little metal compartment to find nothing other than stray specks of dust and the tiniest of spiderwebs in the top right corner of the box. It’s a familiar sight, but Bucky has learned not to let it bother him by now. Remember James, it has nothing to do with you, his therapist always said. You have to learn not to take things personally.
“It has nothing to do with me,” Bucky murmurs quietly before finally shutting his mailbox with a sigh. Coffee cup discarded in the nearby trash can, Bucky turns to make his trek towards the elevator only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of a beautifully familiar face.
Your name is y/n, you live on the fourth floor, and for someone reason you’re always covered in glitter. You’re on your way out the door, art supplies held clumsily in your grasp just begging to jump free from your hold, and despite the rush you seem to be in you still greet the man with a polite smile.
“Good morning,” you chime, honey coated voice filled with warmth and kindness for the stranger. Bucky simply gives you a halfhearted smile in return, watching you walk out the door and wishing he could just muster up the courage to speak to you.
You won the soldier’s heart the day you knocked on his door to drop off a “welcome to the neighborhood” casserole. It had only been his second day in his new apartment, and while he knew some of the other tenants were weary of the mysterious man with the thousand yard stare who had decided to call the building a home, you never once seemed to bat an eye at Bucky or his closed off nature. He had been a little short with you upon your first meeting, his anxiety coming off as annoyance, but still you wore that same kind smile of yours and assured him that if he ever needed anything you’d be happy to help. You were a kind person with a big heart, and Bucky didn’t want to chance snuffing out one of the few lights left in the world, so he let you be. Admiring you from afar was all he let himself have of you, and that was it.
Though, Bucky would be lying if he said you didn’t come across his mind every once in a while. He wondered what you were like, what music you listened to, how you liked your eggs in the morning, if you were an old soul or young at heart, if you’d ever let yourself fall into in the arms of a broken man and help pick up the pieces. It was a pipe dream, but sometimes a friendly smile from you in the morning was enough to get Bucky through an entire day. He hadn’t been with anyone in years, and while he didn’t think he was ready to get back out on the dating scene just yet he knew that if you asked him to he’d take the plunge in a heartbeat. You were an angel, and Bucky would never be able to bring himself to taint you with his touch.
Monday mornings are workout mornings, but they’re also mornings with you.
Tuesday
On Tuesday afternoons Bucky often finds himself in the company of Yori, ensuring the old man stays out of trouble and going out of his way to make sure his newest friend has a nice day out on the town. It isn’t much, and it never will be, but it’s enough for now, at least until Bucky can find the courage to tell the father just what exactly happened to his son on that fateful night. But until then, sushi for lunch will have to do.
He makes his usual trek to the man’s apartment, stomach already beginning to rumble at the prospect of a nice crunch roll, but Bucky’s hunger is soon replaced with nerves at the sight of the woman standing in Yori’s doorway.
You look pretty today, hair haphazardly styled in your rush out the door this morning, colorful stains of dry paint adoring your hands that clutch a bundle of books close to your chest, and a dangly pair of earrings that glint underneath the sunlight pouring through the hallway windows. There’s a smile on your face as you nod along to something Yori says that doesn’t quite register in the soldier’s jumbled thoughts, and the two of you are both too engrossed to notice his lingering presence standing just a few feet away.
“Thank you so much for lending me these. The kids keep me on my toes and I haven’t had any time to settle down with a good book so these were perfect,” you utter gratefully, handing off the pile of poetry books to Yori’s awaiting hands. Names of authors that Bucky doesn’t recognize catch his eye, just as his friend finally catches his presence.
“Of course. I have more if you’re ever interested,” he says before finally addressing the elephant in the hallway. “James, there you are. I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”
Bucky stiffens at the sound of his name, heat immediately crawling up his neck as you turn to him with a friendly smile. Clearing his throat, he steps forward and musters up a meager grin in return.
“Like I’d ever miss Tuesday lunch,” he jokes, a nervous chuckle falling past his lips.
“I guess I better get going. Thank you again, Yori,” you chime with a grateful smile. Then, with your attention turned to Bucky, “Have a nice lunch, James.”
“Thank you...” he trails quietly, mentally kicking himself for his stiff demeanor and wishing he could be less pathetic in your presence just once. Just once and he’d die a happy man.
You leave with a polite smile, turning down the hallway and out of Bucky’s grasp once again. Yori elbows his side.
“She’s single, you know.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Bucky replies with a wry chuckle. “You have me set up with one girl already.”
“Right,” Yori notes thoughtfully with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes that Bucky can’t quite decipher. “I think you’re going to have a nice time on your date.”
“We’ll see,” is all he says in reply, your smile the only thing on his mind as the two men head out for the day.
Wednesday
Bucky has grown to love rainy days, days in which he can remain tucked away in the warmth and comfort of his own home with a relaxing mug of hot chocolate in one hand and some piece of pop culture media he has yet to catch up with in the other. Today’s pick is a book titled The Outsiders, and Bucky chooses to sit upon the windowsill to read the novel.
Gentle drops of rain trail down the glass window, pattering soothingly in a way that makes Bucky fear he may fall asleep. He sets the book aside with a tired sigh and glances out the window with his warm cheek pressed against the cool surface; the city is quiet and the streets nearly empty, and this makes it easier to spot you.
It’s almost as if you’ve been popping up out of nowhere lately, but Bucky never seems to mind. Watch from afar, that was the deal he made with himself, so who was he to complain if you made the task easier for him? He could never have you the way he wanted to because he doubted you’d ever want an unstable old man like him, and even if you did he’d be no good for you. He knew girls like you back in his day, girls with stars in their eyes and hearts on their sleeves, girls who’d melt in his arms whenever he so much as smiled at them. And yet you weren’t like any girl he’d ever seen; you were an enigma and he wanted nothing more than to spend all of eternity deciphering the mystery of you. But he couldn’t, because he shouldn’t, so he didn’t.
Despite the gloomy gray skies hanging above you there’s a serene smile on your face as you stop to admire the pots of sunflowers outside the building, reminding Bucky he has to buy some for his date on Saturday. God, he was dreading it. Bucky was sure whatever girl Yori picked for him would be nice enough, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes wish it were you he’d be taking out for a night on the town. A guy can dream, right?
You retreat into a nearby coffee shop when the rain begins to fall harder, and as Bucky turns to his own warm drink he finds that the mug is now cold. Book discarded, he rises from his spot on the windowsill and drowsily drags himself into the kitchen for another cup.
For a moment he thinks sunflowers might surely bring about his demise, and the passing thought brings the smallest of smiles to his face. Only time will tell.
Thursday
“How are you feeling about your date on Saturday?”
The woman stares at him expectantly, pristine notepad resting casually in her lap, pen in hand as a warning, eyebrows raised at the man as he stares down contemplatively at the stitching of his leather gloves. What should be a comforting environment instead only seems to put him on edge, and as the seconds tick by on the clock hung crookedly above the doorway her pen only seems to get closer to the blank page below her. Shoulders sagging, Bucky can only offer a small sigh in response.
“I can’t say I feel too great about it,” he finally says, the tension in his shoulders alleviating slightly as she finally puts the pen down.
“And why’s that?” Doctor Raynor prods curiously.
“I just don’t really think I’m all that ready for a relationship. What person wants to be with someone as screwed up as me?”
“The right person will,” Christina comforts. Your smiling face flashes briefly in his mind in response and he shifts in discomfort— the doctor notices. “But I don’t think you’re telling me the full story here, James. I suspect there’s something else that’s holding you back. Or maybe someone.”
“That obvious, huh?” Bucky retorts with a wry smile.
“Who’s the lucky person?”
“Her name’s y/n,” he says, your name falling past his lips in the softest tone Dr. Raynor has ever heard from him before. “I don’t know her all that well, but she lives in my apartment building so I see her around a lot. She’s... she’s really pretty.”
“Well, what is it about y/n that you like?”
Geez, where do I even begin?
“I don’t know,” Bucky shrugs, picking absently at a loose seam on the end of his shirt, “I guess I like how friendly she is. Every time I see her she’s always smiling, she always says good morning to everyone and lends a hand wherever she can. It’s like she goes out of her way to be nice to me, and I’m not really used to that but it’s a nice feeling. The first time I met her she never even flinched, she wasn’t scared like other people usually are, and even when I blew her off she still made it clear that I was welcome and if I needed a friend she’d be there. That’s the kind of person she is.”
“Did you take her up on that offer?” The woman asks, but by the look on her face Bucky is sure she already knows the answer.
“No...”
“James, we’ve talked about this,” Christina says firmly, “you have to stop closing yourself off from the people around you. Making a friend could really help you, especially if this girl is truly as nice as you say she is.”
“She is,” he reiterates firmly, “and that’s why I can’t be her friend.”
The doctor’s brows furrow with piqued interest at his admission, legs shifting underneath her as she gets comfortable in preparation for what will most likely be a heavy confession. “Can you elaborate for me?” She says. Bucky sighs.
“After everything that’s happened, and everything the world has been through, it just gets harder and harder to find some sort of light in the dark. So when you finally do find it, it’s like you have to do everything in your power to make sure it never goes out.”
“So y/n is a light?” Raynor reaffirms.
“For so many people,” Bucky nods, “and if I try to put myself in the picture I’ll only bring her down. There’s no future with me, and she deserves better than that.”
“How do you know that if you never put yourself out there?” The doctor asks softly, silently stunned by the heavy confession Bucky has entrusted her with; it’s the most he’s ever opened up before.
Pieces of the past dart through his mind, and in the midst of all the heartache and the chaos he sees Yori, the one friendship he’s been able to successfully maintain since his period of healing. The memory of the man is pleasant for a moment, until Bucky is reminded of the basis of their friendship and how one single confession will tear down everything they’ve built together. It doesn’t matter what kind of man he is now or how much control he has over his own life, the Winter Soldier will always have the final say, and nothing will ever change that. Finally, he speaks.
“I just do.”
Friday
“Crap.”
The softly uttered curse sounds from across the hallway and alerts Bucky of his struggling neighbor’s presence. Purse slipping off your shoulder and heavy groceries spilling from your arms, you struggle to maneuver your key into the lock of your front door all while the heat of embarrassment engulfs your body in a suffocating hold. You’re not as put together as you usually are, your belongings in disarray and eyes full of exhaustion rivaling that of his own, your usually meticulously picked clothing replaced by joggers and an old college sweatshirt that’s three sizes too big on you, and yet Bucky still finds himself frozen in your presence.
Don’t just stand there, help her you idiot, his mind screams at him, the soldier harshly swallowing down his nerves before taking shaky steps towards you. An orange slips out of the brown paper bag and rolls towards his feet, and Bucky takes it as his in into a conversation.
“Need some help?” He asks with a crooked smile, one that softens at the look of distress clear in your eyes as you meet his gaze.
“That’s the understatement of the year,” you breathe out before offering a meager smile of your own. “Some help would be great, thank you.”
Bucky takes the heavier bags of groceries from your aching arms and returns the orange to its rightful place, allowing you the chance to take your keys and unlock the door. You don’t spare him another glance as you walk in, leaving it open as a silent invitation for him to let himself in. Bucky swallows nervously but wordlessly follows behind; he’s never been in a woman’s apartment before, and the fact that it’s yours makes the experience all the more nerve wracking.
Your apartment is small but personalized, decorated with little knickknacks and houseplants and old family portraits that Bucky does his best not to stare at in fear of being rude, and the vanilla scented candle that burns on the coffee table makes him feel all the more welcome. You drop your purse by the couch with a tired sigh before directing your attention to the man who stands awkwardly in your living room. His hulking figure makes your apartment seem tiny, oddly comforting in a way, but you hold back your giggles and merely guide him to your kitchen.
“You can set them on the counter,” you say with a passive wave before reaching into one of the cabinets for a glass cup. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thank you,” the man says politely as he settles the heavy bags down on the marble surface; as much as he’d like to sit and spend the evening with you, he can’t stay long, or more like he won’t allow himself to stay long. Your movements are clumsy as you down your glass of water, and Bucky looks away flustered as little droplets begin to escape the corners of your lips and dribble down your neck. “I hope I’m not overstepping by asking this, but are you alright? You seem a bit... flustered.”
“Is it that obvious?” You joke quietly, your smile barely reaching your eyes as you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.
“I’m sorry,” Bucky begins to say in fear of overstepping, but you merely shake your head in response.
“I’m just a little stressed out. The kids always keep me on my toes, especially now that there’s more of them, and it’s been hard trying to get some of them to readjust.”
“Kids?” He repeats with furrowed brows. He can’t recall ever seeing you with any children, and there’s no sign of any living with you in your apartment. A genuine laugh leaves your lips this time at his response and Bucky tenses uncomfortably. Did he say something wrong?
“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” you explain with a smile, and everything clicks in Bucky’s mind then. That would explain the constant paint stains and trails of glitter left in your wake, the arts and crafts supplies and stacks of drawings you seem to carry with you everywhere. And here he thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger than it already was— were you even real?
“The effects of the blip have been really difficult for them. It’s hard having to come back to school and see that all your old friends are now five grades ahead of you. I know everyone has been impacted in some way by what happened, but it’s harder for the younger ones to understand. I’m doing my best to make the transition back to normalcy easier for them, but some days are harder than others, you know?”
“Sounds rough,” is all Bucky can manage to say, swallowing his emotions back harshly.
“Yeah,” you sigh quietly, rubbing away the clear exhaustion in your eyes, “but I’m trying my best.”
“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”
You smile then, a genuine smile, one that makes Bucky weak in the knees, and suddenly it’s as if all the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.
“I really needed to hear that,” you utter softly, “thank you.”
“What are neighbors for?” Bucky jokes lamely, but you must like his sense of humor for you let out the quietest of giggles.
“You’re sweet. I like talking with you, but I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”
“Not really,” he shrugs with a crooked smile, “I just had some errands to run before tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” You ask curiously, brows raising with interest as Bucky awkwardly looks down at your hardwood floor.
“I’ve got a date.”
“Huh, no kidding. Me too,” you smile, and in response Bucky’s heart slowly begins to sink to his stomach. Yori had said you were single, but only an idiot would believe that someone like you could stay that way for long. Maybe if he had taken the doctor’s advice sooner he could be the one you’re seeing instead of the lucky guy that beat him to it.
“I should get going... I’ll see you around.”
“Thank you again for the help, and good luck on your date,” you say with an encouraging smile. Bucky swallows harshly in response, a look of longing in his eyes that he hides well with a meager quirk of his lips.
“You too,” he murmurs in response, casting you once last glance before showing himself out. The lock clicks behind him, and Bucky trudges back to his own empty apartment.
Saturday
The dining patio of the Italian restaurant is pleasantly empty, but the quiet stillness does little to help soothe Bucky’s nerves as he waits for the arrival of his date. He probably should have asked Yori what she looked like, what her name was and what she’d be wearing so he’d know what to expect, but the old man had been adamant on keeping the identity of his date a surprise.
“It’ll be better that way,” he had said, “trust me.”
The bouquet of sunflowers sits before him on the table almost tauntingly, their bright colors and sweet scent sending his senses into overdrive. He almost resented them, but then he thought of your smiling face through the window and the tension from his shoulders began to dissipate— if you could be strong and put on a brave face despite all the bad things that had happened in the world, then so could he.
“James?” A meek voice calls quietly, pulling the man from his thoughts. His blue eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the woman standing before him and he swallows anxiously.
“Y/n?” Bucky replies, quickly rising from his seat and cringing at the way in which the legs of the chair scrape harshly across the floor with his sudden movements. Here he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and here you were proving him wrong with your cute little outfit and styled hair and charming smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for my date,” you explain with a sheepish smile. Bucky deflates— not only would he have to suffer through his own painfully awkward date, but he’d also have to sit and watch you get swept off your feet by someone else all in the same night.
“Oh... well, who’s the lucky guy?”
“That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh, “I think you are.”
“Me?” Bucky repeats flabbergasted. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Yori was the one who said I should try dating again. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time with other adults since I’m always with my students, and when I said I didn’t really know anyone he told me he’d take care of it for me. All he told me was to come to this restaurant Saturday at six and look for the man with sunflowers,” you summarize before gesturing to the bouquet on the table, “and you’re the only one here with sunflowers so...”
A disbelieving laugh leaves Bucky then at the realization, and he isn’t sure whether he should jump for joy or wait for the ground below to swallow him whole. Finally he had a chance to spend time with the girl who had taken over his thoughts and occupied every available space in his heart, and yet he couldn’t help but feel terrified. A date was a big step up from neighborly conversation in your apartment, and all of Bucky’s hopes of developing something more with you were riding on this one date. Yori knew exactly what he was doing by setting the two of you up, and Bucky had no choice but to be grateful for the man who had bestowed upon him the chance to finally win you over.
“If this is too awkward for you we can just skip this whole date—“
“No, it’s not awkward at all,” Bucky is quick to interject. “I mean, this whole thing is certainly a surprise but it’s a good one. It’s an honor to be your blind date.”
He flashes a charming smile that makes you weak in the knees, and he knows then that he’s back in the game— who would have guessed he’d be able to dust off his old moves with such ease? He had to if he wanted any kind of chance at winning you over.
“In that case, why don’t we get out of here? This restaurant is a little stuffy,” you note with a small chuckle, your nerves slowly beginning to dwindle.
“Alright, what do you have in mind?”
The nightlife atmosphere of the plaza square is surprisingly much more comfortable compared to the dining patio, and Bucky considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to witness firsthand the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the light of the starry sky. A nighttime stroll is right up Bucky’s alley, and you both fall into a comfortable step as you talk about whatever topic seems to come to mind. You speak of your students, about how much their smiling little faces have helped you get through the toughest times, how there’s a stray cat who calls the dumpsters behind your apartment building a home and waits for your arrival on trash days because you always bring the feline a special treat. Alpine, you had named it, and Bucky adored that greatly.
The details are vague but you enjoy the stories he tells you of his childhood and the way his whole face seems to light up at the mere mention of his mother and sister; that look dwindles slightly when he speaks of his old best friend, but you pretend not to notice. As a younger man Bucky worked at the docks before serving time in the army, though he fails to mention where he’d been stationed, and now he works for the government. You feel almost giddy to be learning so much about the man you once believed would rather prefer solitude over your company, and as the night drags on and the conversation begins to dwindle you almost wish you could reverse the clock and do it all over again.
“Thank you,” Bucky says after a moment of silence, prompting you to halt your steps and raise a brow curiously at your counterpart.
"What for?"
“Taking a chance on a guy like me,” he smiles faintly while offering you a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t really done anything like this in a while, and the idea of putting myself back out there scared me shitless, but you just make things so much easier. I guess what I’m trying to say is when I’m with you everything comes naturally, and I really appreciate that.”
“Oh,” you utter softly, a sheepish smile of your own gracing your lips as you turn away to admire the scenery around you. It isn’t until now that you notice you’ve stopped before the fountain, the arches of water flowing overhead illuminated by the fluorescent lights below them. A nervous fluttering occupies your stomach and when you finally meet Bucky’s gaze you feel as if nothing else in the entire world mattress other than the two of you in this moment. “Well, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of in the same boat, so that just means we can figure this out as we go. Together.”
“I like that,” Bucky affirms with a nod, a look that can only be described as lovestruck taking over his features. Nerves overcome you then as you clutch your bouquet of flowers to your chest, heart thrumming rapidly in your rib cage as Bucky steps closer. The glove that had once shielded his right hand from the cold is now missing as he gently cups your cheek and encompasses you with his warmth. His palm is calloused and rough but comforting all the same, and it takes everything in your power not to melt like putty in his grasp.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs quietly as if raising his voice any higher will ruin the moment.
“Yeah,” you breathe shakily, swallowing back your nerves, “it’s okay.”
Your softly uttered words of confirmation are all Bucky needs to hear before dipping down and gently brushing his lips against your own. His movements are hesitant for only a moment, and it is only once he’s sure you are comfortable and secure that he moves in for more. Your lips are soft against his own, plush and warm and so sweet, and as your eyes begin to flutter shut and the forgotten sunflowers slip out of your grasp you drape your arms securely across his shoulders at the same moment in which his left hand joins his right in cupping your face as if you were a precious jewel in need of the upmost care.
Nothing exists when you are in each other’s arms, you are safe and sound in your own little world, and as you part to take a breath Bucky realizes then that one kiss is all he needs to know that you are the one he’s been waiting for all his life.
And by god, if you aren’t more than worth the wait.
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husbandohunter · 3 years
Text
Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]
Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao
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Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”
(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)
Genre: Fluff
Others
Diluc and Kaeya
Albedo and Childe
(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k
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Xiao
• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.
• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing. 
• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge. 
• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.
• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).
• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point? 
• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort. 
• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.
• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming). 
• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person. 
• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(
• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?
• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.
Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.
The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.
You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.
Did he fall asleep already?
Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."
"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."
The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"
Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.
• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time. 
• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by. 
• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.
• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)
• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?
• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.
• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are. 
• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.
~~x~~
Zhongli
• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you. 
• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.
• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.
• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.
• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!
• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.
• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….
• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.
• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.
Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).
• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).
• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple. 
• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10). 
• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him.  He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.
The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.
Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form. 
"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"
How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?
Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.
Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.
Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.
With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.
• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.
• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).
• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.
• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use  technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.
• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.
• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside. 
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