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beaker1636 · 6 months

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Playful Kiss - Vinny Engagement Smut/Fluff

Request: Vinny proposes to you which leads to the craziest best sex the two of you ever had. After you tell everyone he proposed like he didn't just rearrange tour insides.

AN: So I varied slightly from this, opting for instead more of a rushed or quicky sex scene because they had a place to be to be able to let everyone know, so I hope that is okay. It just seemed to flow a bit better. I will include the photos that were used as inspiration for their poses at the end, thank you google!

Also ya'll better be ready because this one is a doozy, almost 5000 words! Enjoy! (Also had to include a photo of vin being adorable because why not?)

Shoutout to @tearfallpixie I was really struggling with the proposal scene and she helped me immensely!

“I really like this dress on you, it compliments you really well mama,” Vinny says. Stepping up behind you in the mirror and wrapping his hands around your waist, a playful kiss being left on your cheek. You feel your cheeks blush slightly, always loving the attention he gives you.

“You look pretty handsome yourself, thank you for agreeing to take pictures with me. I just thought it would be fun to do some,” you say softly, turning around to give him a kiss. “We don’t really have any really nice photos of us.”

“We don't, you are right. And luckily I happen to know several photographers,” he says with a playful wink before backing away from you. “Speaking of, Rick sent me the location we are going to. It is in the woods because he said the colors are great out there right now. I know he had some ideas in mind, the couple he has shown me I thought were fun.”

“Sounds good, Let me grab a jacket and I’ll be right out.” You answer, moving to slip your shoes on and find your favorite sweater. You follow Vinny out the front door a couple minutes later and get into the warm car, music playing in the background softly.

The drive was short, about 15 minutes before you showed up at the photo location, noticing Rick was already there messing with his camera. He had a tripod set to the side in case he needed it but other than that the clearing was empty, mostly coated in red and orange leaves that had fallen the night previous. You both get out of the car, greeting Rick with a smile.

“Thank you for doing this for us,” you say with a smile.

“You’re welcome, okay so here is what I am thinking…” he says, moving the two of you how he wants in the leaves with the trees in the background. To be honest you are excited to see how these turn out, with all the vibrant colors around you. Autumn is such a beautiful time of year and you think the photos are going to turn out beautiful.

“Okay so the two of you are really playful together so I want to take that route in your photos instead of traditional poses, maybe a couple traditional ones but I want to show what you are like as a couple. So the first one I had in mind was something with you on his shoulders like this,” Rick says, showing you a photo on his phone. It was a picture of a girl sitting with her legs over her man's shoulders and looking down at him with a huge smile on her face as he stabilized her by holding her arms out. “I figured it was easier to show you what I am thinking instead of trying to make you do it by instruction.”

“Yeah, I get what you want. Here y/n,” Vinny says, kneeling on the ground in front of you so that he can set you on his shoulders. You giggle when he does because of the fact you almost fell off at first before you got adjusted. His grip was tight in yours so that you didn’t slip again and finally he found his footing so he was able to stand up.

A couple moments later Rick says he got a couple good shots and decided that it was time to move on again. While he was thinking about what to do next Vin had thrown you over his shoulder, hanging you backwards. As he did so more leaves fell from the trees and you looked up in awe, loving the feel of the wind in your hair.

“Oh wait, let me catch a few like this. This is totally fitting for the two of you,” Rick exclaims, moving to capture a couple of you flung over his shoulder. You giggling as Vinny messed with you, a big smile on his face as well as on yours.

You are honestly kind of glad he had one of his friends do your photos, someone that knows the two of you well enough to come up with ideas that just fit your personality other than normal, boring couples photos. The two of you truly are pretty playful, you like teasing one another and messing around… to the point that sometimes it really annoys everyone around you.

Rick continues moving you around for another few poses, a couple of the two of you laying in the leaves, a couple kisses he managed to capture, many laughs when you have thrown leaves at each other and messed around. You are excited to see what it is going to show in the photos because it was so much fun taking them.

“Oh! I have an idea for one. Mama, come here.” Vinny positioned himself to face the camera and pulled you into his arm, hugging you against his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder. You were confused but just went with it, feeling one arm wrap over your shoulder and the other hovering next to you. There were a couple of clicks of the camera behind you before your drummer quickly pulled away. You didn’t miss the grin on his face and the blush on his cheeks but it has been chilly all day so you figured he was just flush from the nippiness in the wind.

“Okay, I have one last thing I want to do unless you have any specifics that you want. So y/n, turn your back towards Vin… yeah like that, towards me. And Vin- oooh I like that. Perfect. Okay, good.” You smile as he clicks the camera a couple times, even though you are confused about what exactly Rick is doing but you trust it’ll end well.

“Okay, y/n you can turn towards Vinny now,” Rick calls to you, not looking up from the screen of his camera.

You turn around and almost instantly gasp when you see Vin down on one knee in front of you, holding a ring out. Your lip instantly pulls into a pout as you fight your tears back at the fact he is doing this right now, beyond happy.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” Vin asks with a huge smile, he already knows that you are going to say yes. That man knows you way too well, and he knew when he was thinking about asking you that you would automatically agree, confident in the fact that you love him. He is pretty sure he could ask you to do literally anything and you would agree with it.

He also knows that you hate having attention drawn to yourself so he would probably get punched if he tried to do this with a lot of people around, and that you wouldn’t want some extravagant speech. You just would want it to be the two of you, something simple.

You nod, smiling as you hold your hand out for him to put the ring on for you. Not sure what you should say right now while all of this is happening, he genuinely shocked you and caught you off guard. You were not expecting him to ask you like this, that was the furthest thing from your mind when you were getting ready for today.

As he slips the ring on your finger he leaves a light kiss on your hand before he stands up, his hands instantly settling on your waist before he leans in to give you a proper kiss. Wanting that closeness in the moment, wanting the confirmation that you are here and agreed. When you broke apart he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting you up and spinning you in circles.

“Yes!” He yelled, laughing as you clung to his shoulders. You giggled as you admired his bright grin from above. This man was yours for good now and you couldn’t be happier.

Both of you honestly forgot Rick was standing there capturing everything as it was happening, both losing track of time as you had your moment. The wind picking up and swirling the leaves around you again as if it was celebrating with you. He lowered you to your feet gently and placed another kiss to your lips before pulling back to admire your glowing smile.

“Thank you for saying yes, Mama,” he says softly, now using his thumbs to wipe away a couple of your tears that fell from your eyes.

“Thank you for finally asking,” you tease him back before turning your head towards Rick. “I’m assuming you knew this was happening?” Rick only offered a smirk in response, still letting you two bask in your happiness a bit longer. “Thank you for helping Vin plan this.”

“You’re welcome, I’m happy to be part of this for you guys. Do you want to take a couple photos that are more like engagement photos with your ring? We can do a couple quick ones of you two kissing and stuff before we finish if you would want to,” he offers.

“You have done more than enough for us Ricky really, I think you have gotten plenty,” you answer with a smile on your face. “You definitely got more than I thought you would already.”

“And we have to go get changed and everything before going to Chris’ for dinner,” Vin says, his hand finding yours. “As much as I really do not want to,” he whispers in your ear.

“Sounds good, I will start editing tonight when I get home and send them off to you. Hopefully they’ll be exactly what you want them to be,” Rick says smiling at both of you as you all walk towards your cars to leave. Getting in so that you can make the drive home and change before you have to make your way to Chris’ place.

About half way home Vin’s hand settles on your thigh, gently squeezing it a couple times before shooting you a quick smile. His hand then slides up your thigh under the skirt of your dress, you know what he is trying to do and decide to ignore it the best you can for the rest of the drive. You aren’t going to make it easy on him, if he wants some before you have to leave he can work for it.

When the two of you make it back to your house you slip in, making your way to the bedroom intending to change out of the dress but quickly realize you can’t reach the zipper by yourself, you are going to need Vin’s help which means he likely is going to convince you to give him what he was hinting at in the car without directly telling you.

“Hey babe, can you come help me quick? I can’t get the zipper down myself,” you call to him, unsure of where he wound up in the house.

A couple minutes later he makes his way into your shared bedroom shirtless, moving to stand behind you. One hand is resting on your shoulder while the other starts to slowly draw the zipper down your back. He leaves a kiss to your now bare shoulder before moving your hair to one side, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek before moving to your ear, so close to you that you could feel his warm breath across your skin there.

“All I could think about earlier was getting you out of this dress, I wasn’t joking when I said you looked amazing mama,” he whispers softly, leaving light touches on the now bare skin of your back and shoulders.

“Then how about you just do it Vin?” you ask him, turning to face him, your own hand now trailing his bare chest softly. Teasing him in your own way like he was doing to you in the car.

That was all that it took before his lips were on yours, his hands brushing the sleeves of your dress down so that it would pool at your feet, leaving you in just your bra and panties in front of him while he continues to kiss you like a starved man.

With the dress now off of you he pushes you towards the bed, when the back of your legs hit it he pushes you down onto your back before pulling his lips away from yours long enough to slip his own jeans and boxers off before he settles himself over the top of you. Quickly his lips find their way on your skin again, settling on the skin by your collarbone as he reaches underneath you, unclasping your bra and throwing it across the room and out of his way, his mouth closing around one of your nipples right away. Sucking it into his mouth, lightly biting before soothing the sting with his tongue before moving to the other.

“Shit mama,” he groans when you reach down between the two of you, taking his erection in your hand and stroking. Trying to get him fully hard for you, wanting him to get some pleasure from you like he is currently doing for you. Truthfully you get off on knowing that he is, that he is enjoying what you are doing to him as he does stuff to you.

His lips leave your skin for a moment while he looks down at you, his lips on yours again for a moment. Short, gentle pecks that are unlike what the two of you are currently doing to each other, like he had to take a quick break to remind you that he loves you before he continues having his way with you.

One of his hands rests on yours, making you stop stroking his cock for a moment while he looks at you, meeting your eyes.

“My turn,” he growls, forcing your hand off of him before he shoves you back down on the mattress and moving to settle a bit further down on the bed. You know what he is about to do, but you still aren’t prepared when he settles between your thighs, tongue instantly running against your folds as he begins to devour you. Lips quickly wrapping around your clit and sucking harshly, this man is determined to bring you as much pleasure as he can in this moment.

“Fuck mama, you’re so wet,” he groans, pulling his lips away from you long enough that he can look up at your face. He wasn’t expecting you to be watching him, but you are. Enamored with seeing him work you over, how excited he still gets over getting you off. “You taste so good.”

He slides two of his fingers inside of you as he still watches your face, his own resting on your thigh as he watches you let out a breath, your chest heaving slightly as you take in a breath when he begins thrusting his fingers inside of you a couple times.

He moves back to what he was doing, working your clit with his tongue as he continues to flick it and suck on it. Wanting nothing more than to pull you over the edge with just his mouth and fingers before he is inside of you. Wanting you to be wet and ready for his cock before he fucks you, because he fully intends to give it to you rough. Just how you like it.

One more flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers have you coming undone with a moan, your back arching up as he continues his motions for a few more seconds, working you through the high before he pulls away. Pulling his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean before meeting your eyes.

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot when you come undone for me,” he groans as he moves up from where he is at.

Letting you wrap your legs around him when he kisses you again, you tasting yourself on his lips as he continues to softly kiss you, letting you relax slightly before he continues.

Lining himself up with your entrance he slowly slides in, groaning at how wet you are, how tight you are around him as he begins thrusting into you. Only taking a few thrusts before picking up the pace, his hips hitting yours rather roughly, making you whimper as you are now sensitive from your own orgasm.

“Shit Vin,” you groan, wrapping your legs around his waist as he goes, knowing he likes it when you pull him in like that.

“Fuck, can we shift mama? Want you to ride me,” he asks, a couple soft groans slipping out before you agree. His hands settle on your waist as he pulls out of you, flipping you both so that he is now laying underneath you as you sink yourself down on him.

“Shit, just like that,” he groans, his hands on your hips as he helps guide you as you start to work yourself on his dick. Maybe not quite as rough as he was with you but enough that both of you find yourself getting close as you continue to do so.

You watch his face as his eyes close when he lets out a gasp, loving the look that is running across his face as he slowly comes undone underneath you. His eyes open again and settle on your hand when he watches you reach down to start circling your own clit, finding yourself close again.

“Shit that is so hot, love watching you fall apart on me,” he pants softly, feeling you clench around him. He knows you love it when he talks to you during the act, when he tells you what he is enjoying, how attractive he finds you. Seconds later you shudder, your second orgasm crashing over you as you slow down your movements slightly.

Vinny feels himself close to the edge so he holds you against his chest now, thrusting into you before he cums inside of you with a groan, a few more soft thrusts before stopping. Holding you against his chest in his arms as you both lay there basking in the afterglow for a moment before you move, lifting yourself off of him so that you can clean yourself up in the bathroom quick.

“Oh shit, babe, we are officially late for going to Chris’, we better hurry to get ready and get there before he is too pissed,” Vinny calls to you, you giggle when you hear him trip over his pant leg as he starts pulling a pair of jeans back on.

You slip out of the bathroom and quickly throw on a shirt and jeans, figuring good enough as you watch Vinny bound his way downstairs to go warm up the car. You move to try and fix your hair that has now become a frizzy mess before giving up and just pulling it into a messy bun before slipping your shoes and jacket on, following Vinny to the car so you both can be on your way.

“So, how long do you think it’ll take before anyone notices your ring?” Vinny asks you, holding your hand and running his thumb over it as he drives down the road. He can’t help himself but to touch it, wanting to feel like it is real and that you actually said yes.

“I don’t know, Chris and Mia (first name I thought of, sorry) can be kind of oblivious when they want to be so we shall see I guess,” you answer giggling, squeezing his hand softly. “It really is beautiful, I love it Vin.”

“I know, I made your sister help me pick it out when we had an off day on the last tour, so that it would be something you would like,” he says, smiling as he watches the road. “I’m honestly shocked she kept it a secret from you, the way the two of you talk to each other all the time.”

“I can’t either actually, that bitch,” you say, teasingly as you continue to watch out the window, Vinny pulling into Chris’ driveway.

“There are a lot of cars on the road, I wonder if someone is having a party or something around here,” you say softly as you step out of the car, making your way up the steps.

“Uh yeah, about that,” Vinny answers sheepishly as he opens the front door to Chris’ house, all your friends cheering the second you open the door. “I knew you wouldn’t want everyone being there when I asked but I wanted us to celebrate with our friends.”

You smile, telling him thank you before you start giving hugs to your friends who gave you congratulations, all of the girls wanting to see the ring as you talk with them, being surrounded by their love and support for the two of you.

“Dinner was already dropped off and ready, but you guys chose to show up late for reasons I doubt I want to know so we should probably make our way to the dining room,” Chris says, smiling at the two of you.

You make your way over to him, pulling him into a hug so that you can thank him for hosting this for you, setting it all up so that you could celebrate with everyone. He really is thoughtful and kind, you appreciate everything that he does for all you guys.

You all make your way to the dining room, where there is a lovely dinner catered from your favorite restaurant in town. Everyone sitting down to eat while asking you about how Vinny asked, what he did, to see your ring, etc.

You learned that Vinny didn’t tell anyone how he was going to do it, that even Rick didn’t tell his girlfriend Naomi just that he was helping with it.

“We were getting some photos done today because I have been wanting some nice ones of us and he asked during the photoshoot, catching me completely off guard. It was perfect honestly,” you answer, a smile forming on your face as you think about it again.

“I brought my camera cord so we can hook it to the tv, I can show all of you the video after we are finished eating,” Ricky says with a smile.

“Wait, you got a video of it? I thought you only got some photos of it,” Vinny asks, glancing up at him.

“You both were so distracted you must not have noticed I had my tripod, I had it set up and ready so that I just had to quickly hit record before you asked. I figured the two of you would enjoy having a video of the moment on top of the photos I got today,” Ricky answers. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you Rick, that was really thoughtful. Thank you for all that you did for us today, really. And thank you again Chris and Mia for hosting a celebration dinner for us tonight. I love all of you guys and appreciate what you all do for us,” you say, feeling happy tears starting to pool in your eyes as you look at everyone around the table.

“Oh no, you are not allowed to cry because you will make me cry,” Mia says with a laugh, smiling at you brightly from where she is sitting across the table. You can’t help but let out a laugh at her words, feeling the love that is behind them.

Everyone finishes up eating and make their way to the living room while Rick sets up his camera, pulling up the video so everyone can watch it. The girls all sharing their awws as they watch Vinny sneak up behind you, pulling you into a hug and holding the ring out with a finger pressed to his lips for a photo like he was saying shhh don’t tell her.

“I was trying to figure out wtf you we’re doing with this pose you fucking sneaks,” you say, giggling as you keep watching the video.

Watching the moment that he asks makes you smile, happy tears forming all over again as you relive the moment of him asking, of the two of you celebrating as he swings you around with a huge smile on his face. The girls around you all saying aww and sharing your happiness as they watch the moment while sitting around you.

“You two are the cutest I swear, and it is so fitting to do it that way. I think it was perfect for the two of you,” Naomi says, holding Ricks hand where they sit after the video had ended.

“Like the annoying little siblings I didn’t know I needed,” Rick teases, smiling at the two of you brightly from his spot next to her. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it Vin, I had fun planning it with you.”

“Thank you for doing it, of course I would want my best friend in on it man,” Vinny responds, looking over at his friend with a smile of his own.

You can tell by the look on Vin’s face that he truly means it, that he is truly overjoyed as his hand is in yours, his thumb still lightly playing with the ring on your finger as you sit there talking with all of your friends.

He will have to get that video sent to him so that he can send it to his parents, knowing that they will both be overjoyed to know that you said yes because they love you and have been on his ass about offically adding you to the family.

“Okay but for real, why we’re you guys late if you we’re coming from the photoshoot after changing?” Ryan asks, glancing at the two of you from across the room.

“They just got engaged, I think that is a stupid question dude. Just think about it for a moment,” Justin answers before taking a sip of his drink. He almost spits it out when he sees Ryans face go from curious to absolutely disgusted in the matter of seconds.

“Okay, nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked,” he says, turning slightly red when he puts two and two together.

Everyone laughs at his reaction when he realizes what likely happened, all having fun being with each other and in one another's company. You leaning into Vin’s side as you start to get slightly tired but still enjoying being with all your best friends. You couldn’t be happier at how the day ended, even if it wasn’t how you had planned.

#motionless in white #vinny mauro #fanfiction #bree sucks at fanfiction #motionless in white imagine #miw band #miw #vinny mauro smut #vinny mauro imagine #vinny x reader #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro fic #vinny mauro x reader smut #miw imagine #miw smut #miw fanfiction

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7association-was-here · 4 days

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Uh. Why’s everyone tellin’ me to be careful..? I mean that’s real kind but anyways. Heathcliff here again with a report on that case I’m working on. This is gonna be a doozy to explain but sit tight lads, lasses, everything in between and out.

After painfully flipping through those piles of folders I only learned a little bit about the victim (I kid you not half of it is just a bunch of complaints from the Zwei and Tres, also someone snuck pictures of their cat in there??) But the report says they’re an important fixer, semi-inventor of some fancy shit, owns three cows(??) and yadda yadda.

I went over to the scene of crime which was the poor sod’s own workshop. But there wasn’t actually anything new for me to see there since most stuff’s been covered already by the chaps handling this case before me. He was found dead hunched over his workbench, cause of death was a hatchet swung right into the back of his head and its still stuck there. The only big mystery was that there was no signs of obvious break in. I was recommended to leave and focus on the stuff we already know but even then though, I felt like… Something wasn’t right. Like you know that intuition of mine I tell everyone about? It was telling me there’s one more clue we haven’t found.

I checked around his notebooks, his desk, to no avail. Until I checked his warehouse. Where he keeps all the gear— Or well, kept, cause it ain’t here anymore. All stolen. But I found this… Crack in the wall. I dunno I just somehow knew it would be there though. Like something told me the key behind this all lies beyond that wall. So like any sensible bloke I went to destroying that bloody wall with a steel chair nearby. Hopefully I don’t get in trouble for that. Oops.

Now, I found some stairs leading downwards, and a thread of red string pointing me to go ahead. It was kinda shady but I thought “Hey! I found new shit!” and so I followed it and it led me down some kinda hidden tunnel. Down there I ended up in… Some underground room? It was dark but the walls were covered in this sickly lookin’ white colour so that in itself gave it a sense of light. There wasn’t much down there actually. A few empty shelves, cobwebs, paper sprawled on the floor everywhere, but in the middle of it all was this

Complicated device I think. It’s a.. mirror? With a bunch of wires and magnifier thingies that I don’t understand. It looks dusty but still, what’s this shit doing down here?

Well, that’s all I’ve found for now. Oh, wait! One more thing before I pop off. When I got back to my desk I found another one of those paper message things. What’s it called again? A prescript? I actually caught a glimpse of the bastard who left it here it’s just that he ran away before I could say anything and slammed the door in my face.

He kinda looked like that guy I think’s been following me around….

This one looked kinda messy written but it says

To Heathcliff: Follow the city’s ribbons. To a meeting with yourself. This is related. Visit L corp. Must be alone.

…Don’t get what that means but. Looks like I really did jinx myself.

#//the plot thickens :eyes:#//okay but I’m actually kinda invested in this too you guys #//quick reminder: we’ve tagged every plot relevant post with the “lore?” tag so that you can track them down easier #//in case you’ve missed any entries :)#//oh and yeah we’ll be speaking ooc in the tags more often #seven association #project moon #limbus company #heathcliff lcb #lore?

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oohnotvery · 12 days

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Edges of the Night (Chapter 13)

Okay, holy crap, I don’t think I’ve EVER received as many comments on a chapter as I did on that last one (even Chapter 18 of “Throwing Good After Bad” didn’t get that many initial comments, and that chapter was a DOOZY, iykyk). That shocked me!! First, THANK YOU, that gives me so much joy. Second, okay, fueled by those amazing comments and people’s thirst for more, I sat down to edit/write instead of packing for my trip. I can’t deliver the entire rest of this part because it’s so freaking long and really needs more work, but I wanted to give you all something else to chew on while I’m gone. Not much happens here compared to the other chapters, but it’s all I was able to finish before my trip.

So again, thank you—and see you back here on Monday!

Alan.

It’s Alan.

With a stiff jerk, Scully untangles herself from Mulder. Dazedly, she glances up at him, then takes an unsteady step towards Alan.

Her fiancé reaches out a hand and hesitantly, she takes it. He tugs gently, his eyes creasing with relief.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he murmurs, tugging until her body collides with his. He lifts his hands to her cheeks and bends down, pressing his lips to hers chastely. She is so surprised that she jerks away. Her cheeks flood with color as Alan’s face falls and she glances behind her, where Skinner, Mulder, and the boys are staring at them uncomfortably.

Byers, who seems to be the only one with manners, hastily motions for everyone to disperse into the living room. Mulder lingers for a second longer than everyone else, his expression unreadable. When he finally disappears from sight, she turns apprehensively back to Alan.

“We have so much to talk about,” he says uneasily, and she nods, completely stunned.

“I’m—I can’t believe you’re here,” is all she can think to say.

He smiles kindly. “Mulder filled me in on some of what you two went through.” He shakes his head in amazement. “You must have been terrified.”

Terrified . . . yes. That was the overriding emotion of the past few days, right?

Traitorously, her mind flashes on an image of Mulder’s bare chest, his hands tight against her thighs, his hips pressing into hers—

Alan’s hand travels idly across her empty ring finger, interrupting her thoughts, and her cheeks flush darkly. The damn ring. We threw away the damn ring. But Alan shrugs good-naturedly. “He also warned me about what happened to the ring. He offered to pay for another, actually.”

Scully blanches. Mulder offered to pay for her engagement ring to another man? The idea is so nauseating that she grimaces, shaking her head.

“No, no, let’s just—Alan, can we just focus on putting one foot in front of the other? I can barely—I’m having trouble absorbing what’s happening,” she says truthfully.

Rationally, some part of her brain knew that she would see Alan again. In fact, everyone—Mulder included—has been reminding her that once this ordeal is over, she’ll be free to return to her life in California. A life that includes Alan. But seeing him in person has sent shock waves down her spine, forcing her to consider a future that doesn’t seem as settled as it once did.

Is that really what she wants to do? Return to her life in San Diego? Marry this man? Settle down and live a quiet life?

Just a week ago, that wasn’t even a question. She did want those things, and she remembers wanting them with Alan.

But spending four days with Mulder has suddenly thrown everything into chaos.

Alan nods understandingly, reaching out to place a warm palm to her cheek. “Of course. Let’s—let’s get settled and we can discuss everything.”

She nods.

They all settle in the living room, Alan and Scully sharing the couch, Mulder and Skinner sitting across from them in a pair of armchairs. The Lone Gunmen lounge casually on the floor and against the walls.

“So,” Mulder begins, looking directly at her.

There’s a part of her that knows she’s in a state of shock. As she stares at Mulder across the room, all she really thinks she has the energy to do is to curl up into his side and reassure herself that he is, in fact, very much alive. Her brain has hardly begun to wrap itself around the fact that he’s here in the flesh.

But there’s another part of her that realizes that she and Mulder are no longer alone, that her fiancé is sitting beside her, and that she has to start accepting the facts very quickly.

“First and foremost,” Mulder continues, “you should know that Alan was never tracking you.”

She nods primly, sure that her cheeks have never sustained a blush for this long. It is mildly embarrassing that Alan knows that they were once so sure he was tracking them with her ring, that Mulder chucked it into a snowbank.

Alan rubs a comforting hand across her back. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, and she meets his eyes, which are warm and understanding.

She glances over at Mulder, then back to Alan. A headache is beginning to form between her eyes as a result of the mental gymnastics it’s taking to stay present for this conversation. As she looks at Alan, all she can really think about is Mulder. Mulder. Once again, traitor that it is, her mind flits to their last night in the cabin together, her lips on Mulder’s lips, their hips rocking together. She flushes deeper.

God, she doesn’t deserve Alan’s understanding.

She glances around the room and realizes everyone seems to be waiting for her to speak. Say something, her brain demands. Act normal. She tries to focus on putting a sentence together, but Mulder is here and alive and why the hell does she have to sit here on this damn couch and pretend like that’s not the most important thing in the world right now?

She licks her lips uneasily. When she speaks, her voice shakes. “You said—you said Alan was responsible for—for saving your life.”

Mulder shifts in his seat, his eyes narrowing, his fingers templing over his mouth. When he trains those profiler eyes on her and regards her intently, she ducks her head, trying to quell the wave of emotions crashing over her. She needs to be alone, she needs to give herself space to process this alone—

Mulder stands abruptly.

Everyone’s eyes lift as he walks past the sofa towards the kitchen. She turns and he glances back at her. With a slight tilt of his head, he gestures for her to follow him.

Unsteadily, she rises to her feet.

“Just need a minute,” she whispers to Alan. He nods tightly.

In the kitchen, Mulder reclines against the countertop, his arms crossed over his chest. She fidgets nervously, wanting so badly to touch him again. But she can’t. Not with an audience just six feet away in the other room. Not with her fiancé around.

But Mulder inclines his head, signaling her closer, and she can’t resist walking up to him. He doesn’t touch her, but his eyes envelop her with warmth. With him nearby, her heart rate starts to slow and her mind begins to grow calm. Peace washes over her and she closes her eyes, allowing herself to breathe him in, feel the heat of his body, sense the steadiness of his presence. Of course he knew she needed this. Of course he understood. She opens her eyes and finds him watching her carefully.

He's alive.

Without warning, a flood of joy explodes inside her and a grin rises unbidden to her lips. She ducks her head but he reaches out, tapping at her chin until she shows him her face. He laughs a little, a smile catching on his lips, and she’s sure she hasn’t ever felt this relieved.

“You’re alive,” she whispers incredulously. Her eyes rove over his face and body, quickly scanning for injuries and finding none.

“I thought you might need a minute,” he murmurs perceptively, “you know, to check me over for injuries.”

She laughs wetly. “I could use more than a minute.” She presses the back of her hand to her mouth as happy tears begin to stream down her cheeks.

He chuckles. “So you’re surprised I made it out in one piece?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Yes,” she says, then shakes her head, “and no. I don’t know. I didn’t—I didn’t let myself really believe you’d . . . that you’d . . . .”

He nods and she takes a step closer.

“I can’t believe you were going to pull that trigger,” she whispers, meeting his gaze steadily.

His lips pinch together and he shakes his head as if to say later. Then his arms loosen on his chest until soon, he’s pulling her in for a hug. For a moment, she lets joy and relief overtake her body. She forgets that there are people in the other room; she forgets that she’s going to have to face her fiancé soon; she forgets California and the demands of the real world. Right now, all she feels is exuberance that she’s standing in this kitchen holding onto this man.

“Gee, Scully,” he murmurs after a moment. “You’re really this happy to see me?” The incredulity in his tone takes her out of the moment.

“Don’t act so surprised,” she mutters into his shirt.

He hums at the back of his throat and she swears she feels his lips press into the crown of her head.

After a while, he releases her to run a hand gently across her injured shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She pulls away, her lips pressing together. Yes, she wants to answer. Yes, because you’re fucking alive. Yes, because you didn’t die. Yes, because you’re standing here holding me.

But reality is sitting in the next room, and sooner rather than later, she’s going to have to face it head on.

“Seeing you,” she says quietly, “and seeing . . . him. It’s . . . a lot to process.”

He nods, his eyes lingering inscrutably on hers. Before she can speak again, he’s slipping away to fetch her a glass of water. Pressing it into her hands, he smiles.

“You ready?”

#mulder x scully #dana scully #the x files #x files fanfic #msr #txf #fox mulder #xfiles fanfic #msr fanfic #x files

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sunflowersoldat · 2 years

Text

All is Fair~ In Love & Luck

Chapter 5: All is Fair in Love & Luck

Previous Chapter

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Bad language words, angst, plans of assassination, blood, light smut (on top of the clothes stuff).

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: approx. 5.8K (sorry this one is a doozy)

A/N: This took me way too long to write lol. I really hope yall enjoy it! feedback is always welcome, let me know your favorite part. Things are about to get really dicey really quickly, so enjoy the semi-calm we have.

You formally met the rest of his ragtag family at dinner, it was odd to see how everyone interacted. They were genuinely a big family, unlike how your father and brother ran their business. Only Nat, Pepper and Happy were considered anything more than foot soldiers, or even allowed at the family table.

After dinner you and Steve went out on a small walk around the estate, hand-in-hand as the sun was setting over the forest, its light casting a peachy glow over the sky, giving way to the deep navy of the night sky flecked with glistening stars.

The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, as he led you around the front of the mansion, the circle-drive came into view, sitting in the glow of the sunset was a beautiful black motorcycle. As the two of you approached, Steve released your hand, “Have you ever ridden?”

Glancing up at him, you smiled wickedly, “A motorcycle? Yes.” getting closer, you admired the old bike, tracing your hand over the genuine leather seat and the gleaming body. “A 1942 Harley-Davidson liberator? She’s beautiful.” you looked up at him again, his sapphire eyes sparkling as they watched your every move. “Is she yours?”

He nodded slowly, “She is. She was a gift from my mother when the mantle was handed down to me. She and my father collected vintage cars, most of which I didn’t keep after they passed. I didn’t really have a need for them, but this one…” he took a deep breath, “It’s special.”

Walking closer, he swung one leg over, settling on the leather seat, offering you his hand, “Care for a ride?”

You placed your hand in his, gently straddling the seat behind him, he gazed back at you, as the engine rumbled to life. The low grumble sending vibrations through your body, he pulled your hand around his waist, settling it there he tapped it, “Hold on tight Angel.”

The ride was peaceful, with the brisk Autumn breeze nipping at your skin and through your hair. Burying your face into his neck, arms tightening around his waist as he drifted around a curve a little too fast, before pulling into a quiet lakeside grove. “What do you think?” his soft, timbre voice cut through your thoughts,

“It’s beautiful.” Your eyes are glued to the serene landscape around you. A small dock leading out over the lake, a small secluded cabin on the other side.

He chuckled, swinging off the seat, “I was talking about the chaos at the mansion.”

“Oh, right…” you felt your cheeks heat, “They’re great! They treat me as if I've always been here. I see why you are so protective of them. They truly love you. It’s not just respect, you’re their family.”

He sighed, “They’d follow me to hell and back, shit a couple of them have…” he stepped closer to you, lifting your chin with his knuckle, “If any of them make you feel bad or–”

You shook your head, “Steve. You are their family, they are just as protective over you as you are of them. Anything they do is just to keep you safe…” you sigh, grabbing his hand, “Trust me I more than understand.”

He brushed his nose against yours, “They love you, if they don’t already, they will. I have no doubt about it.”

You weren't too sure about that, Bucky seemed to have a vendetta against you, and you weren't sure how to fix it. Your stomach churned, a slow realization dawning on you. After the mission was over, it wasn’t just killing Steve, or creating chaos. You were destroying a family. They would surely attempt to seek revenge… What a waste of potential.

You looked at him curiously, you couldn’t quite figure him out, this man who was supposed to be terrifying, was anything but. He was soft, kind hearted, you couldn't imagine him hurting even a fly, but there was something there. Lying just beneath the surface, it set your instincts on fire. The alarms in your mind told you not to trust him, not to push him, yet you wanted to. Something about this man made you feel calm, but at the same time made fire erupt under your skin.

He turned to you as he rummaged through the saddle bag, pulling out a bottle of wine with two glasses, and a small container of strawberries. He lifted them, “Courtesy of Wanda.” giving you a small smile, he began to walk towards a nearby tree.

Rolling your eyes you followed, he wasn’t the spontaneous type, every part of his day meticulously planned, “Do you always plan everything?”

Giving you a lopsided smile, he shook his head, “Not everything. Some things are spontaneous.” he lifted the full glass of wine to you, taking it you raised a brow, “Oh, so you didn’t plan on coming out here?” you teased, settling down on the grass next to him.

He chuckled, “Okay tonight was planned. But I have made spontaneous decisions.”

You lifted your wine, taking a sip, “Like what?” You challenged, not believing him.

He looked out over the calm water, thinking, “You.”

You scrunch your brows, “Me?”

He pursed his lips, eyes glued to the glassy lake, “When I saw you at the casino and jumped into the elevator, I didn't have a plan. I just hoped.” he placed his empty glass onto the grass, his calm eyes finding yours, you took a long drink of your wine, “I saw you, and all logical thought left my mind.” a sad smile pulled at his lips, “I’m a very strategic man, Angel, there isn't much I do without a reason, much like your brother…” your eyes snapped to him, “But, you.” he grabbed your wrist, guiding you to straddle his hips, placing a soft kiss to your wrist, before plucking the almost empty glass from your hands.

Cradling your face in his hand, he lightly traced his thumb over your cheek, “You… You were the wildcard, I wasn't expecting anyone to play. You materialized out of thin air…” his forehead met yours, “You’re heaven sent, Angel. Something I’ve been searching for…” his thumb softly traced your wrist, “for a long time.”

Your heart raced in your chest, squeezing your eyes shut before gently pulling away, you took in the scenery around you. The sun was gone now, the soft light from the moon above illuminated the silent grove, the occasional twinkle of fireflies flickered around you.

This. This is what you had wanted, the whole reason you wanted out of the business. You had given your resignation, you were ready to find your place in the world, to settle down. That was before the accident, before the gala, before the new assignment, and before him.

He was the wrench thrown into all your plans. The real wildcard, a card that wasn't meant to be played. Family heads were off limits, placing a bounty on their head was against the rules. For the dealer to accept one was unheard of, the offered amount must have been ludicrous. Something wasn't right, and you knew it, but it wasn’t your business, your assignment was to gain intel, and kill him when the word was given. Nothing more, nothing less. You had to finish your mission.

He pulled you back down to him, lips capturing yours, the kiss building, the passion implying he wanted so much more from this, not just this date. He wanted more than you were able to give him. And it hurt deep inside, beneath it all, beneath your pride and insistence this was only a mission.

You could feel him holding back, the corded muscle under his skin, taught, ready to snap. You smirked to yourself, the beast within, the one you’d heard so much about. you'd like to see it, this calm, composed man, to lose control in front of you, to see what he was hiding, what he was capable of. It would make a good distraction to the swirl of thoughts fogging up your brain.

You needed it.

You ground against him, causing a feral growl to erupt from him as he pulled away, breaking the kiss, the two of you breathless, his pupils lust blown. “Steve…” his name leaving your mouth in a breathy whine as his hands slipped under the fabric of your shirt. Burying his head in your neck, his lips leaving soft kisses against your raging pulse. “Not here, Angel.”

Rising to his feet, he loaded you and the wine with the berries onto the bike, bringing it roaring to life. You looped your arms around his waist, casually slipping your hands under his shirt, dipping lower, past the waistband of his pants and boxers. Brushing against his hardened member, his body tensed, your name leaving his lips in a low voice, a strained warning, that had you smiling wickedly.

—

You arrived back at the mansion in record timing. He stepped off the bike first, you moved to follow, but were hastily scooped into his arms. He wrapped your legs around his waist, lips crashing with yours, so consumed by you he didn’t notice the black vehicle parked farther up the drive.

His hands roamed your body burning you into his mind, your hands in his hair and clutching to his back. Shutting off the alarms blaring in your mind. His hand left your body only momentarily to open the front door, toeing it the rest of the way open.

Only to kick it shut behind him, the sound echoing through the foyer. The two of you were heading for what you assumed was his room, but a throat cleared behind you. Steve broke the kiss, a brow raised, irritation ignited in his eyes as he glanced around you. “Evening Rogers, and Little Stark.” You recognized the gravely disembodied voice, a sneer splitting your lips as you watched Steve’s jaw clench. The man you had come to recognize disappearing before your eyes.

You turned your head to see both Thor and Loki standing there, waiting, watching. You glared back, as Steve released you, another door opening then slamming shut. Bucky emerged, fuming, his weapon holsters strapped to his chest, Peter following close behind attempting to soothe him.

Bucky turned from Peter, his eyes landing on you and Steve, “Where the hell have you been!? Phone turned off, what if something-“

“Barnes.” Steve’s voice cut through Bucky’s worried scolding.

You turned your gaze back to Steve, his eyes cold, body tensed, power rolled off him. A shiver ran up your spine as Bucky cleared his throat, the headstrong man almost submitting, but you could feel the apology in the air.

“Odinson, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening.” Steve’s tone was cold, cordial, but cold.

Your gaze met Loki’s, his green eyes followed the conversation, until they locked with yours they softened, calm, but his body language telling a different story. He was next to his brother, yes, but just out of reach. His arms folded securely across his chest. Face void of any expression aside from boredom.

“Business Rogers, it’s always businesses.” A small smirk lifted one side of Thor’s mouth.

“Regular business hours are over Thor. Make an appointment with Wanda or one of the men and we can talk then.” Steve moved towards the staircase, hand grasping your wrist to follow.

Something flashed across Thor's eyes, his jaw clenching, “This really shouldn’t wait. Rogers.”

Steve stopped, turning to Peter, “Queens, accompany Angel to my room or wherever she would like you to take her.” He then turned to Thor, “My office is upstairs.”

Peter joined you at the bottom of the stairs as Steve caressed your face, his eyes softening, “This won’t take long. I promise.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile as he ascended the stairs, Thor, Loki and Bucky following behind. Thor gave you a knowing smile, “Shouldn’t take long young Stark then he will be yours again.” He winked as he passed by.

The continuous use of your brother’s link to you began to grate on your nerves as you stared daggers into Thor’s back, both Loki and Bucky turned to give you an apologetic look before disappearing along with Steve and Thor upstairs.

Peter cleared his throat next to you, “What would you like to do, Ms. Carbonell?”

You sighed leaning against the baister, “Honestly? A bowl of ice cream and a bath sound amazing.”

You turn your gaze to Peter, a smile breaking onto his face and his eyes light up at the mention of the sweet snack, “Ice cream? Yeah, I can get you some, follow me.” quietly he leads you into the kitchen, he motions for you to take a seat at the bar. Alpine hopping onto the counter in front of you, making her way under your hand, encouraging you to scratch her back as Peter rummages through the freezer and cabinets.

You watch as he places two bowls onto the counter and begins making you and him a bowl. “Steve calls you Queens, why?” you ask casually, Alpine taking up most of your attention.

His head pops up from the ice cream, “Oh, that's just where I’m from, my Aunt lives there… It’s nothing special.”

You nodded slowly as he placed your bowl in front of you, before moving to the seat next to you, softly scratching Alpine’s head as he passed, getting comfortable on the bar stool.

“Don’t you have a nickname? Like from your brother or any friends?” he asks around a spoonful of ice cream.

You take a bite of your own, contemplating a good answer. You couldn't really tell him most people call you death, or some other form of the word in whatever language they speak. Jake gave you the nickname first, as the Ace of Spades, you were usually dealt as the last resort. Or by request of the client, you were never requested by name of course, only by title. “Well, no, but Tony calls me Squirt…”

—

Steve led Thor and Loki to his office, Bucky following close behind, as he opened the door to allow everyone in, Thor stopped him.

“I’d like to speak with you alone Steve.”

Steve glanced at Thor, then nodded to both Bucky and Loki before closing the door and leaving them in the hall. Steve walked to his desk, taking a seat, clasping his hands in front of his face, “You have my undivided attention Thor, what can I do for you?”

Thor smiled faintly, “No, no, no, Steve, it's what I can do for you.” Thor leaned back in his chair, caressing his beard, “You see, the turmoil between the families has been brought to my attention.”

Steve’s eye narrowed at Thor’s words, “If you are speaking of my relationship with Stark’s sister, this conversation will be over before it begins-”

“No, I care little about who you keep between your legs and sheets, Rogers.” Steves jaw clenches, the not so subtle jab about his you being a mere fling doesn't escape him. “No, I am referring to the havoc Stark is wreaking on your businesses.” Thor continues, rising from his seat, “You see, it isn't just affecting you and your businesses, it's affecting all of us and it must end.”

Making his way to the bar cart, Thor pours himself a glass, taking a long swig before speaking again, “Stark is a lost mut, chomping at the bit since his parents died. He is looking for someone to blame, we all know that now you have his pretty little sister, his eyes are on you.”

“I’m failing to see where you are going with this Odinson, and I'm losing my patience,” Steve ground out through grit teeth.

Swirling the glass, Thor sighed, “Your businesses need protection–”

“They have protection. Are you suggesting I can’t protect my own–”

A dark chuckle escaped Thor’s throat, “Not at all Steve, I am merely suggesting we crack the whip with Stark. My father, gods rest his soul, would never have let any of this get so far out of hand…” he poured himself another glass as Steve’s cold stare followed his movements, “We need a Don, Steve, someone who can keep the peace. I could help quell with useless squabble between the two of you. So you can continue to play with his sister, and we can get back to making money. Because we all make more money when we work together, all I ask is for your vote.” he moved towards the bar again, “help me, to help you.”

Throwing back the rest of his drink, he walked towards the door, turning back one last time he met Steves icy gaze, “I wonder how she would feel, knowing she is the reason your empire is crumbling.” he turned the knob, opening the door “Think about it Stevie.” he quipped as he disappeared outside the office door.

Standing from his desk, Steve took a deep breath, his blood boiling. If it would have been anyone else aside from Thor, he would have the men cleaning their brains off his bookshelves. He ran his hand through his hair, the door to his office opening again as he slammed his fist down on the desk, “Fuck!”

He looked up to find Bucky standing quietly, his weapons still buckled to his body, Steve cocked his head, maybe Thor was right, he had let Tony get away with too much, it was time to fight fire with fire. He had tried to stay neutral, let Tony have his tantrums, for your sake, but enough was enough. Now Steve’s leadership was being questioned, and he couldn't have that.

“Bucky, gather the men, meet me in the garage. We are going to hit a few of Stark’s warehouses, make sure we send a message. He fucks with us we fuck with him. I want him to hear it loud and clear.”

Bucky blinked at him, yesterday Steve had yelled at them and told them not to retaliate, and now he wanted them to send a message. “Steve–”

“Just do as you're told Buck and get outta my office.” Steve saw the hurt flash across Bucky’s face when the words reached his ears. He knew he was being an ass, but he just couldn’t deal with it right now. All the men knew better than to talk back, or raise their voices, especially in front of other families. Bucky had done both, on the same day. So when he straightened, nodding his head before leaving the room Steve ignored the pang in his stomach when he remembered you were waiting on him.

—

You were asleep in bed when Steve returned to the mansion and entered the room, your hair still damp from your bath he assumed you had taken. You were on top of the covers, no doubt waiting for him to come and join you. Placing a kiss to your forehead, he tucked you under the covers, whispering promises to make it up to you tomorrow. But for now, he needed a shower, to rinse the blood, and grime off himself.

After showering, he lowered himself into bed, curling himself around you as you turned over, tucking your head between his neck and shoulder.

“Where did you go?” your sleepy voice rising in the darkness.

“I had some unexpected business, baby, it took longer than expected. I'm here now though. Just get some rest. We can talk about it in the morning.” he breathed into your hair, placing a gentle kiss upon your temple.

He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, a sense of calm washed over him, chasing away all the screams and horrific acts of violence from the past twelve hours. You were his peace. His lighthouse in a storm. And he would spend every day showing you what you meant to him.

—

You woke first, the early light of sunrise bleeding through the curtains. Steve lay asleep next to you, for the first time since the two of you have been together, you got a good long look at the tattoos that painted his skin. Most of the ink remained on his chest, across one pectoral, a medusa head, blindfolded, her snakes tangling around his shoulder and other pec, intertwining with a broken clock. You followed the inked details down one of his arms, lady justice stood on one forearm, her sword in one hand and scales in the other, balanced. On his other arm, a pair of wings. Not a stitch of color, just the stark black against his tanned skin. You wondered about the story they told, and made a mental note to ask him later. For now you need to get dressed and head into the city.

—

“I’m telling you, I can beat you with a rematch. Just you and I kid, I guarantee I can win.” Bucky pressed, sitting next to you in the vehicle, Scott and Sam in the front seats.

You squeezed Steve’s hand as you rolled your eyes, laughing lightly, “Listen Boinky, if you really want me to kick your ass, all you have to do is ask.”

He rolled his eyes as the car came to a stop in front of the small cafe you were set to have lunch in, Bucky exiting the vehicle first, offering you his hand as Steve exited on the other side. You took his hand, looking around on your own, unable to shut off your instincts. As your head cleared the door, you were able to see through the sea of people walking, a familiar blonde head catching your eye. The sun momentarily glinting off the gun in her hand as she raised it, hurrying out of the vehicle, you tried to shove Bucky out of the line of fire only to stumble on the curb, falling into Bucky.

The gunshot rang in the air, the crowd swarming in panic, screaming as they tried to get to safety.

Bucky caught you as you fell, the two of you tumbling to the ground, his body cushioning your fall, only to flip you under him to shield you.

You heard Steve yelling, as well as Scott, the thunderous sounds of footsteps making it hard for you to focus. Your head pounding, Bucky pushed off you, reaching down to help you up, as his hand wrapped around your arm, a scream clawed its way out of your throat. Searing pain radiating on the left side of your chest and shoulder, reaching up, you could feel the blood seeping through your shirt. Steve rounded the back of the car as you lifted your crimson painted hand to your face, vision blurring as you watched Bucky’s face blanched.

Steve’s muffled order to get you back in the car is the last thing you heard before losing consciousness.

—

The sterile smell of medical supplies pulled you from your blackout, a dull pain throbbed right below your left collarbone. You tried to push yourself up, but the dull pain turned volatile. Groaning you dropped back down-

“Woah, easy Ace, easy.”

Your eyes snapped open at the nickname, next to you sat Bucky, shirtless, pushing at the woman in the lab coat so he could reach for you, concern lacing his features.

“Oh, good morning Ms. Carbonell.” the woman turned to you, her ID tag reading Dr. Helen Cho. you met her eyes as she walked over to the side of your bed, moving a pillow behind you, helping you to sit up. You glanced around the room, in the chair to your right sat Steve, head propped on his hand, leaning towards you, asleep, the early morning light dancing through his blond hair painting it gold.

You turned back to Bucky as Dr. Cho finished patching his wound, your brows scrunching had he called you Ace? Did he know? If so, you couldn't imagine you would still be breathing. “New nickname?” you asked quietly. He gave you a soft smile, thanking the doctor, “Yeah, it seems fitting. You happen to be really good at poker as well as almost anything you try, and you’re probably the luckiest person I've ever met.”

You shook your head, “I wouldn't consider being shot lucky…”

“Neither would most people, but you are lucky to be alive.” Dr. Cho pointed to your injury, “The bullet pierced right under your collar bone, yet right above your shoulder blade, a clean entry and exit wound.” she gestured to Bucky, “clean enough to graze it's more likely target.”

You nodded, giving Bucky an apologetic look, “Don’t give me that look, Ace, it’s me that should be sorry, you took a bullet for me, one that could have easily killed you–”

“Yeah but it didn't.”

“In all reality it should have–” Dr. Cho interrupted, giving you a serious look, before checking your IV and beginning to check your vitals, “If it would have been an inch lower, it would have punctured a lung, another inch maybe a little more, you wouldn't have made it off the pavement.”

In all your years, you had been beaten, stabbed, shot, but never this close to any damage being anything but superficial. “It is just a flesh wound now, it's been cleaned and dressed. You are also on heavy medication, I recommend bed rest for a few days. Other than that you should be fine.” she began to leave, “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours, when everyone is awake. Rest.”

Once the door closed, you turned your gaze back to Bucky, you could feel his eyes burning into you, “Binky. I’m fine.”

He chewed his lip, furrowing his brow, “You can call me Bucky you know…” his icy eyes locking with yours.

You raised a brow, a smug smirk pulled at your lips, “Does this mean we are friends Barnes? I distinctly remember you telling me–”

“You took a bullet for me kid, the least I can do is allow you to call me by my name.” he smiled sadly, standing from his seat, rummaging through the closet of the room you were in. Pulling a t-shirt from its hanger, he began putting it on.

The serious topic began making you uncomfortable, you needed to lighten the mood, “Well, looks like I’m not good at everything I try. I wouldn't exactly get high marks as a human shield–” you pointed to his bandaged wound.

He huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes, looking at the sleeping mob boss next to you, “Don’t let him hear you joke about it…”

Your head rolled to the side, giving you an unobstructed view of Steve, “how long was I out?”

“Not long, 24 hours give or take.”

“Has he moved?” you gently brushed the hair from his forehead, hovering there.

“No.”

You turned back to Bucky, eyebrows scrunched, “Why? What about business or–”

“You are all that matters.” Steve's husky voice cut you off, “The rest can wait.”

Your gaze snapping to him, you met his ocean eyes, red tinged, from the lack of sleep, the light bags under his eyes letting you know that the hours of sleep he got were few and far between. His hand coming up to intertwine with yours, he pressed the back of your hand to his cheek, “Hello Angel.”

You gave him a small smile, your tumb caressing his hand, as he placed a kiss to your knuckles—

“You can take your appointment and Shove it where the–” a familiar voice thundered down the hall.

Your head snapped toward the door, Bucky’s and Steve’s gazes following.

Bucky began walking towards the door, “Stay here, I’ll check it out.” As he reached the door, he was shoved backward as the door opened inward, nearly knocking him on his ass. Your brother stormed through the door, chest heaving, face a deep shade of red, you were surprised he didn't have smoke pouring from his ears.

When his eyes met yours, you could swear his knees gave out, his features softening, shoulders slumping, he stumbled toward you, stopping just short of the bed, his gaze landing on Steve next to you. “Is this what you wanted, Rogers?”

Steve’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, “First my warehouses, now my sister?! You almost got her killed!”

“Tony, that's not fair! You can't blame him for this, he had no control over the situation.” you argued, pulling yourself from Steve’s grip to face your brother fully.

“This. This isn’t staying out of the business. You were fine at the museum, before him. And now you're a target because of his recklessness!”

Steve rose from his seat, his voice raised, “My recklessness?! If you would just let your sister make her own decisions and not throw tantrums when she picks someone you don't agree with, we wouldn't be in this situation. I can’t control hired assassins Tony!”

Your head began to pound again.

“That’s the problem isn't it Rogers, control. You don't have much of it.”

“What is that supposed to–”

“Enough!” you interrupted, “that's enough, both of you.”

Steve’s head fell, but Tony just glared at him, “Look at me, Tony.” he slowly tore his gaze from Steve. You looked to Bucky who had stationed himself close to the door, then looked at Steve’s back, “Can the two of you give me a moment with my brother.”

Both the men nodded, heading for the door, as Steve left, he glanced back at you, he looked defeated, his eyes pleading you to understand. You didn't blame him, you stepped in front of that bullet. You weren't sure why, it was obviously meant for Bucky. You just hoped you had done a well enough job of pretending to fall into him, and not purposefully becoming his human shield.

“This is not the time nor the place for this conversation Tony.” you met his gaze, your eyes hard, you appreciated his concern, but all he was doing was making matters worse and making an ass out of himself.

“Squirt, if you would have just listening to me from the beginning, we wouldn't be here, all I wanted was for you to be–”

“Tony, stop. I made my decision. I knew the risks of being seen with him. I accepted that.”

“Well I don't! You are leaving here with me, I am taking you home, Dr. Banner can help you recover…” he continued to ramble, making his way to the bed, he began unplugging monitors and cords attached to you, making his way to a duffle back, he began throwing your clothes in.

“Tony, Tony stop!”

He froze, swallowing.

“I am not going anywhere.”

Turning he opened his mouth to retaliate.

“No. You don't talk, you listen. I am staying here with Steve. If you wish to have this discussion we can meet at a different time after I've recovered and we can talk.”

His brown eyes glassy as he held your gaze, “I can't lose you too…” his voice breaking.

“You won't. I am fine, it is only a flesh wound. But Tony, you can't control my decisions. If you do, you will lose me by choice.”

He took a deep breath, swallowing hard, “You promise we can talk after?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to come to you, embracing him, “I promise, for now just trust me. Okay?”

You felt him hesitate, squeezing you, before nodding in agreement, “Okay.”

“Now go, stop making an ass out of yourself. I’ll see you soon.”

Releasing you he moved to the door, hesitating he looked back, “Pinky swear you’ll be alright?”

You lifted your little finger, “Pinky swear.”

He nodded, opening the door, allowing Steve to enter as he exited, “Rogers…” Steve turned back looking at Tony, “Keep her safe. Or you will take her place in that bed.”

“With my life Tony.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Tony brushed past Bucky who in turn glared at him as he left. Bucky stepped in the door, but Steve turned to him, “Could you give us a few Buck?” nodding Bucky left the room, the soft click of the door filling the uncomfortable silence.

Steve knelt in front of you, his head resting in your lap momentarily, you gently run your hands through his hair.

Lifting his head, his eyes met yours, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. His eyes were so full of emotion, it knocked the wind from your lungs, “I thought I was going to lose you Angel.”

He rose, picking you up from the bed, placing you into his lap as he sat down. His forehead resting against yours, his breath fanned over you, his lips tantalizingly close, you allowed your eyes to slip shut, tilting your head so your lips met in a soft kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, keeping you as close as he could. His hands never leave your body too afraid to leave you, as if you would disappear if they did. “You are the best thing that has happened to me, in a long long time.” he breathed against your lips, “You are my guardian angel, my everything.” the pit opened in your stomach again, an icy hand gripped your heart.

He pulled away, just enough to look you in the eyes, the blue becoming glassy, “Can you make me a promise?”

The grip on your heart tightened, stomach flipping, “Anything.” you wanted to be sick.

His hand came to caress your face, thumb softly tracing your cheekbone, “Promise me you wont leave… I won't lose–” he broke off taking a deep shaky breath, “I can’t lose you. You mean more to me than anything. More than my entire empire, if you wanted me to leave it all behind all you would have to do is ask.”

“Promise me. Promise me I won’t lose you, please Angel.”

He kissed you again, filled with so much emotion, it felt like your heart was being squeezed into dust, you were breathless when he pulled away again, your name a faint whisper on his lips, “I love you.”

The grip on your heart tightened further, you shouldn’t have accepted this mission, an icy chill ran up your spine.

“I love you too.”

Your chest physically constricted as the words left your mouth. The pain radiating through your body, you gasped, only for his mouth to close around yours. Tears stung at your eyes, but you shoved them down, this was just a mission.

Just a mission.

Except it wasn't.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy@tianamontag@daiseychaindisaster@silently-killing-you@buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog@austynparksandpizza @captainson-of-coul@betareader7@vicmc624

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endious · 2 years

Note

did you see that one weird sex song post? It's reblogged on my blog and it is the funniest shit I have ever seen in my life 💀

And also, I'm going go to do small projects aside from the big one that I have on Quotev,

And one of those is:

VINTAGE AU:

✨️ IMAGINE ✨️

Toby - 1940s gangster:

You're standing right in front of him, in an empty and dark room, only illuminated by the fire crackling just a few feet away.

Cute white dress hugging your form as you fiddle with your fingers, not daring to meet his eye-piercing gaze.

He beckons you to come over, and you hesitantly do, knowing that resisting will lead to even further consequences.

You don't want to obey him, your eyes swirling with such passionate emotions that it makes a smirk come on to his face. You want to hurt him and run, you don't want to be his little pet.

But the tight grip he has on your waist, pulling your lips close to his, watching your doe eyes look into his own murderous ones, and the way he's rubbing your clothed pussy over the rough fabric of his pants, is making that dream rather difficult.

And Toby knows it.

Masky - 1950s loony man

You were one of the few people who ever treated him like a person, who didn't alienate him just because his mind wasn't like everyone else's, because he had disorders.

Which is why he was here, inside of your closet, hands shoved down his pants as he watches you change out of your pastel flowy dress, drinking everything your body had to offer.

A part of him knew it was wrong, to be spying on you like this, especially when you had been so kind to him.

But you were just so beautiful with those curves and pretty eyes, and sweet voice that always brought him comfort.

That he wanted to stay just a little longer.

Jeff the Killer - 1980s Serial killer

You saw him on the news, you heard your friends talking about him, you heard the teachers worried chatter about his presence. You expected it to happen, as this guy was running around killing people, and the cops were either too dumb or too unbothered to properly catch him.

But you never expected him to be right in front of you, knife pressed to your throat, cold and icy blue eyes staring deep into your soul as he presses his body near yours.

Those blue irises hold an emotion you can't understand, was it bloodlust or obsession? Or both? You didn't know.

He starts to say about how pretty you are, how all of your friends ate fake doozies who he'll slaughter soon enough, and how much he's waited for this moment.

Meanwhile you just stand there, confused as to why this man is rambling in your ear, and afraid for your life.

A soft kiss on the cheek being the only warning you about the horror that your will turn into.

I wanted to add Hoodie - 1970s and EJ - 1960s on here, but I have personal interpretation and idk if you want to hear it 👀

OMG I SQUEALED AT JEFF’S AAA i i i i love him so much you feed me so well with these >3> OFC SEND ME HOODIE AND EJ!! i love them both sm im interested to know your interpretation of them since i dont truly have my own completed yet😭😭

omg tobyyyy im drooling!!! he knows what he does to you!! the way he slides his hands over the expanse of your body from under that pretty dress, whispering all the bad things he’ll do to you if you don’t behave and just sit pretty for him<33 he likes messing with your head. he likes how that rebellious glint in your eyes falters when he ghosts his index over your clothed pussy and he enjoys how desperate he can make you after you were just mentally wishing he’d fall over dead any moment!

TIMMMM watching you undress from the safety of your closet<333 he cant help the ache in his pants at the sight of your bare body on the other side of the slightly open door. his hand sliding down to palm at himself while he pants as quietly as he can because he doesnt wanna scare you away! he doesnt want you to know how often he does this, how much of a pervert he really is after all the kindness you’ve shown him :( it eats away at him but god is it addicting to feel so disgusting while creaming his pants as you walk bare to your bathroom and he hears the sound of running water start.

JEFF HOLY FUCK IM PANTING IM CREAMING. already being prepared for whenever the murderer looming around may strike but being completely shook and startled when he doesn’t opt to kill you but instead goes on a ramble about how badly he’s wanted you, wanted this and how long he’s waited how you should be grateful he’s gonna kill those ‘dumb fucks’ you call friends soon and then all you’ll have is him and thats all you need! you will never fully feel alone after that interaction. there’s always a feeling of being watched now but you’re too scared to do anything because it’s a killer that’s got a fixation with you. one wrong move and you could be six feet under along with everybody else he’s killed.

#ALSO YES I SAW THAT RB YOU DID #I FUCKING CACKLED WHEN I HEARD THE SONG #— cadie answers #— mutuals #cw manipulation #cw threats #cw stalking #tw dubcon #tw noncon #— night sessions

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misssugarpinkshome · 11 months

Text

Chapter 55: Complete

To be posted: Saturday, July 1

Highlights:

"Justin?"

Mettaton snorted, waving his hand. "Don't know him, don't care." You pulled away as if slapped. Fucking rude.

Naomi choked on her pizza and Damien blinked. "You've GOT to be shitting me!"

That was all. Nick clearly had a big ol' gay crush on you, and here he was, crushing back on the blue bunny that absolutely didn't like him the same way he liked... him.

God his thoughts were confusing.

You were not the of person who enjoyed just sitting there taking all of this applause. You were the sort of person to hide away, being brave in little bursts. You were an activist in your own right, but you would not be giving speeches to crowds anytime soon.

He shook his head, eyeing the amber liquid in the glass, seeing how it reflected off the ice inside. "There has always been magic in this world. You just needed to know where to look.”

You spread your feet out under you, as if for balance, watching the crowd and letting yourself actually feel the moment, instead of putting yourself elsewhere. And somehow... you loved this moment.

You felt like you were burning too, not like the apartments or downtown, but like a bonfire, lighting the way for everyone else.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and those of us who know better, wasn't that a treat?"

Again, no leads. It was as if the body had simply never existed.

"do what you wanna do," he mumbled, pulling his head back into his arms.

"Great, cause I'm going to."

Oh my god. "Sans. Earth to Sans. We're looking for a braincell, do you remember where you misplaced it?"

This was a lot harder than the alcohol you normally drank. "Hot shit."

"yeah, he's made of fire. dunno if you noticed."

"Curtis? I just want to let you know, I'm proud of you. I don't believe I say that enough."

You were prone to making mistakes, and this one was a real doozy.

"didn't hafta get drunk on my account."

"'S not on your account, I got my own tab."

Others cheered and toasted to your downfall.

"let's uh. here. hold on tight, k?"

You didn't need to be told twice. You wrapped your arms clumsily around him, holding onto this jacket with your fists. You nodded into him. "Mkay."

As you passed Undyne and Alphys room, you paused at a sound. Then, you quickly hurried, flushing as you heard more. Er. Noises. Good for them.

#Chapter Preview #WKYH Preview

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queenofbaws · 2 months

Text

happy wednesday! things are still nuts here so i'm still pretty in and out, but i've tossed some snippets for like wringing blood from a stone and a totally-secret-not-so-secret upcoming CREEPs project under the cut for anyone interested. (sorry tale(s) of the champ friends - we're too close to the end now, i shan't be spoiling the final couple chapters ;P)

as ever, hope all is well for all y'all, wherever you are <3

like wringing blood from a stone

At first, she held her tongue. She just watched the scene as it happened, staying still except to fold her arms tight and tuck her hands into the fabric of her robe. There wasn’t much for her to say, anyway—not until something was said to her—and had it been anyone else sitting there on the floor, they would’ve known it was their responsibility to acknowledge her first. It wasn’t anyone else, though, it was Kaylee. And Kaylee held her own same as Constance did, thanks very much.

So she watched her for awhile longer, still saying nothing, still waiting…and when she finally grew tired of standing there on the hard floor in nothing more than her house slippers, she eased herself down onto the sofa and continued to watch her from there.

Kaylee didn’t join her on the couch. She didn’t look up at her either. She too kept on keeping on, sitting crisscross on the rug, twining the cast-off yarn from the blanket she’d undone around her hand over and over again to form a ball. It was slow goings, what with all the tangles and snarls she kept running into, but those knots she’d sown herself, so those knots she’d have to reap.

Just when Constance found herself thinking they’d spend the whole night like that, one spinning and the other watching, Kaylee drew in a breath and spoke up.

“I ain’t apologizin’,” she said matter-of-factly, her dark eyes still on the yarn, her arms moving like spindles as she wound it into a ball. “I ain’t got anythin’ to apologize for. But I made the mess, so I’m fixin’ the mess.”

Constance eyed her for a spell, then glanced to the side, where three smaller balls already sat finished. “Is that what you think?”

Any of the boys would’ve stopped and thought that one over good and long. They would’ve been careful as they considered how to answer her. Not Kaylee. Kaylee had too much of her in her. “Yup,” she said, setting the ball aside as she dealt with another knot. Even with all that distance between them, even in the thin light of the moon, Constance could see it was a doozy.

That didn’t mean she was in any great haste to help. Nope. Just watched.

“Nothin’ to apologize for, she says.”

“Nothin’.”

“You tell me how you figure that, Kaylee Jean.”

The skin of Kaylee’s forehead wrinkled with a frown as she dug her short, bitten nails into the knot, pulling strands every which-a-way. She still didn’t look up at her. “You were bein’ bitchy to be bitchy. I was just returnin’ the favor, that’s all. No one else in this fuckin’ house was gonna, and someone had to, so I did.”

She thought on that for a second, Constance did…chewed on it. Then she held her hand out and gave her fingers an impatient wiggle. “You gimme that,” she said, unsurprised when Kaylee did, and less surprised still when she stood from the ground and sat beside her on the couch. “You’re makin’ it worse.”

“No I’m not! I almost had it!”

CREEPs project i'm very very excited about aslkdfjasldk

There was a rustle and a gasp behind her, but much as she wanted to turn and check that everyone was all right, she couldn’t. It was hard to explain…something about the lights she saw through the trees, those eerie green lights, drew her in like a magnet. Stronger than that, even! It was more like…like…there was a metal cable running between her and those lights, and try as she might, she was helpless to do anything other than let it reel her in.

She didn’t know what it was, or where the lights were coming from, or, worst of all, why everything was so green. In the back of her head, a breathless voice screamed ‘swamp gas!’ in bald-faced panic, as though it’d been tearing through her memory banks and had only been able to find a single fun fact taken from a crumpled-up taffy wrapper.

Was swamp gas green?

They weren’t near a swamp…were they?

If it was just gas, why was it so bright?!

Ashley didn’t have to try too hard to push those thoughts from her mind. Not with her legs starting to shake and her breath red-hot and spiky in her chest. Whatever that green light was, it wasn’t the guy chasing after them. That was enough for her.

All at once, the world around her went silent. Not quiet, not muffled, silent. Her blood thumped in her ears and her breath came in shuddering whoops, but that was it—the others weren’t calling, she couldn’t hear their footsteps, there were no crickets or birds or wind in the leaves. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Finally she turned, terrified of what had happened to the others, and—

WHAM!

In the dark, she hadn’t seen the door among the trees. Really she didn’t see it then either; her body rammed into it shoulder-first, and with a dry crack it gave way, sending her toppling to the ground.

The smooth, dry, grass-less ground.

“That’s one way to knock, I guess.”

#queenie writes supermassive #the hacketts #ghost hunting au #my plan CURRENTLY for anyone interested is to finish tale(s) -> do a chapter or two of the hacketts -> REALLY focus on creeps #we'll see what happens hahah

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ein-liebloser-wanderer · 2 years

Note

Can you do yandere white night with his 12 apostle headcanons? :0

⸸ Yandere Lobotomy Corp — WhiteNight w/ Apostle!Reader Headcanons ⸸

(Disclaimer: A yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I make as many Abnormalities humanoid as possible. OOC and fanon are to be expected)

This is quite the doozy, loves~

In this AU, the Plague Doctor doesn't immediately breach as soon as he Metamorphosizes into WhiteNight.

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

Now, there are many ways your love story with the false god could turn out. With him, there are just so many ways your fates could have intertwined to lead to WhiteNight worshipping you.

You could have refused him until the very end, and spared yourself the pain and eternal suffering that he thinly disguises as 'Eden.'

Buuut...for the sake of your request, dear Anon, let us assume that you accepted to devote yourself entirely to him. And I mean, all of you.

Because that is essentially what you did.

You did bother to understand what it meant to be his follower, right?

R i g h t . . ?

"At last, his eyes fluttered opened to reveal an ominous red. His followers rejoiced, 'The Lord and Savior has awakened!'"

WhiteNight loves all of his Apostles. No infidel or heretic is allowed to question his mercy and love for them.

But who is he trying to fool, dear? You, who he had tried so hard to convert and now fear of losing? His followers, who he only deem as faceless pawns?

Or perhaps, himself? A lovesick god that believes he is above everything flawed and human.

It dawned on him, then, that you weren't just some Apostle he wanted to hoard.

He needs your devotion. He absolutely cannot stand the idea of you one day leaving him.

And don't even try to attempt to worship anyone else. Especially not that wretched man who likes to play saint. WhiteNight can give you everything you ever wanted, and so much more than that sad excuse of a god.

Which was why he always paid the most attention to you.

He was already a high-maintenance Abnormality, that doesn't want to be left alone or ignored for more than ten minutes. So, imagine having to come to his containment unit at least six times an hour, because he keeps threatening the Manager that he will breach.

The other Apostles envy you, but they cannot show it. They fear his anger, but more than anything, they fear being abandoned by him. They wouldn't dare to incur his wrath! Isn't he already being cruel enough by wasting all of his affections on you?

So, they will scowl at you while holding a tight leash on their jealousy as they watch their Lord smother and embrace you with his being. Oh, how much they wished to be showered with his gifts and pure-white feathers...

"Why won't he look at us? We have done everything he ever asked for, but he won't even let me stay near him. He keeps looking at them. That dirty, dirty whore. The Harlot! Please please please please just LOOKATME."

Then, a new Apostle has been blessed, with the previous one missing. Everyone looks tense, afraid to even look at you or him at the eye.

Sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around waist, you ask innocently. He delights at the fear in your eyes as you turn to face him.

They all could die for all he cares. His eleven Apostles are replaceable, unimportant, and inconsequential to his plans. All he truly needs is you.

The moment you die...how long will he have to wait until the next time loop begins?

"Hush...Why dost thou fear me? No harm shall come to thee so long as thy body, heart and soul belong to me."

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

This is the first Abnormality I ever wrote so much on, and still have so much more to talk about. But alas, I can only write so much before this post turns from headcanons into an essay. Least to say, this won't be the last headcanon I ever write on him, loves.

Especially since this one doesn't consider the MC being the twelfth apostle. Ooh, how would he deal with a Heretic darling, I wonder.

Anyway, I hope you love this one, Anon~

#yandere whitenight #yandere lobotomy corp #yandere lobotomy corporation #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenario #yandere boy #yandere male #yandere #love-eldritch #yandere x reader #yandere x you

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dourpeep · 3 years

Note

You, kazu, & Xiao going to an amusement park and buying balloons so they don't lose each other (they learned from the mistakes that they made last time)

-no primogems

when I said I was going to pass out again I didn't mean for another whopping three hours oops

BUT ANYWAY!!

(This is gonna be another doozy)

The three of you gathered in the front of the park, carefully making sure each of the three colorful balloons are tied to a wrist. Red, Green, and Yellow--each going to the matching person (though yours is yellow because Kazuha and Xiao agree it's a color that's bright and easily spotted...needless to say this probably has to do with what happened the last time-)

But boy are amusement parks fun!

It's very rare that the three of you go because Xiao's discomfort in crowds and Kazuha isn't too fond of the loud chaos, but finally you decide on a not-so-busy day.

With balloons secure and hands held tight, you make your way around, trying to decide what you want to do first- oh! The booth games are always fun, right? The perfect way to start off the fun! And it just so happens, you're dating two very adept men with keen eyes, so they're bound to do well!

You have to tug Xiao away before he can give the vendor a few choice words (these darts are hardly sharp enough to pierce those balloons-). To be fair...the really shouldn't be bouncing off the rubbery surface based off how hard he threw it.

Kazuha joins the two of you with a small stuffed plush in his arms. It's quickly forgotten when you both have to prevent your passionate love from speaking his mind. (Don't worry, the little prize is retrieved and not really forgotten as soon as you calm him down-)

So next is snacks!

Games sure do make you hungry and, though you haven't been out here long, you left close to lunch time so it only makes sense you go out and grab something yummy :DD

Some grilled fish, maybe funnel cake- certainly cotton candy or a caramel apple!

You're busy munching when you notice Kazuha eyeing your sweet treat. It turns out he's never tried it before, so you're quick to hold it out, a hand hovering under it. He leans in, taking a bite and humming in delight. It's really good! Not as cloying as he thought it'd be, especially with the deliciously crisp apple. You offer a bite to Xiao too because you know that he has a bit of a sweet tooth (not fooling anyone with how he's on his second funnel cake-).

In return, of course you get a little nibble of their foods of choice :>

But let's continue on-!

Next you make your way back towards the main part of the park, no longer hungry and now excited for rides. Xiao's keen on rollercoasters and thrill rides (that looks...really tall) while Kazuha points out the park's water-based rides. A lazy river and water pad? How surprising!

Since you've just eaten though, you decide to try out a few of the more calm rides.

It's fun, getting splashed by the cool water when the sun beams down on you, not having to worry much about having to dry off. Laughing, as Xiao gets caught under the waterfall (to be fair, he did have time to move to the opposite side of the raft), he smooths his now wet hair out of the way, tucking it behind his ear after ringing it out as best he can. You're about to tease him when the ride turns and you get soaked as well

Ahhh...you deserved that. No need to worry, though, because both Kazu and Xiao are quick to make sure you're not cold.

This is followed by the three of you running around the water pad and you squealing as you quickly maneuver right before Kazuha can catch you in his arms only to SMACK

Right into the solid chest of your other boyfriend. (booooo no fun)

BUT NOW!

Xiao's favorite part--the rollercoasters.

Not going to lie, you're going to really have to convince Kazuha that he won't be in any danger and instead will be safely buckled in secure.

Luckily, he's also an adventurous person so he'll try maybe a one or two of the thrill rides before deciding to sit out. If you also aren't one for rollercoasters (me), then even better! Xiao doesn't mind riding whatever he pleases as long as you and Kazuha are keeping each other company since the lines aren't that long. Also he always returns to two pairs of arms and a few kisses which is nice.

When they ask what you want to do, you shrug. Through the day, you've already done pretty much all that's available and, to absolutely be mushy, the one thing you really wanted was a nice date with your boyfriends!

They're soft, you're soft, everyone is soft and you return to the hotel tired but with so many new lovely memories.

#kazuha x xiao x reader #Xiao and his two lovely dumb s/o's #no primogems anon #genshin impact #xiao #kazuha #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #imagines #headcanons #drabbles #oh my god I got carried away again difhaoeihfaowieh #this ended up twice as long as I was aiming for HHAHA

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willadisastercry · 3 years

Text

Lance ignores his asthma and Coran is not willing to be an accomplice pt. 2

It’s a race against the clock as Lance’s lungs worsen and his team scrambles to come up with a remedy before it’s too late. And though this whole mess certainly could’ve been avoided had he been upfront about his situation to begin with, his team will have to save the scolding for when Lance can focus on something other than the pain of trying to force air into his rapidly constricting airways. Altean technology works fast, but what if fast isn’t fast enough?

Part 1 / Part 2

“D’you check these yet?” Hunk asked as he threw open the topmost drawer of the in-wall storage space in Lance’s cabin.

“No, and it’s not in here either... I don’t understand wh—shit!” Keith cursed as he knocked over the trash can beside Lance’s nightstand and began scooping the contents back up.

“I don’t know where it could possibly be if—“

“—found it...” Keith interrupted as he held up the inhaler that had fallen out with the rest of the trash.

“Did you just get that from the... don’t you dare tell me it’s... oh, quiznak!”

“We’ve gotta tell Shiro...”

Keith was scared that Hunk would actually cry with the way his body tensed and his eyes glossed over.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Coran will know what to do,” Keith offered as he forwent cleaning up the rest of the mess he made for the sake of time.

“Bring that with you, maybe it can help him figure something out,” Hunk said after a second of staring blankly before he turned on his heel and joined Keith in a mad dash back to the training deck.

When they finally made it back they wished they’d never left.

Lance was collapsed onto his forearms with a very distraught Shiro rubbing circles on his back as he struggled to take in heaving breaths. He hadn’t even realized they’d returned until Shiro spoke up.

“Thank god you guys are back, just toss it—”

“It’s empty, this was his last inhaler...” Keith offered for the look of utter despair on Shiro’s face as Hunk sunk down next to them and placed one hand beside Shiro’s on his back and wrapped the other around Lance’s, receiving a weak squeeze in thanks for the small comfort.

“You’re gonna be fine dude... Coran and Allura are going to help, they can fix this. Just keep breathing as deep as you can,” he repeated over and over as Lance’s chest continued to hitch, the wheezes so loud and guttural now as his lungs worsened and his body grew more exhausted.

Understanding washed over Shiro all at once and then he was moving, maneuvering Lance’s struggling body despite the unwillingness of his lax limbs.

He was too exhausted to do much of anything aside from keep his chest rising and follow whatever direction his pliant frame was guided, letting himself be pushed back onto his heels as hands clasped his forearms and settled on his back to keep him from tipping over.

Every muscle in his abdomen was screaming. A similar tension burning up his neck and seeping into the sinews between his shoulder blades that made his head feel way too heavy to sit atop his shoulders. After not even thirty ticks of trying to summon the strength to keep it up he let it hang forward, the hands on him tightening their grips when he did.

He was extremely grateful they couldn’t see his face anymore because tears were beginning to form quicker than they could fall and he was sure he would have been fully sobbing at that point if he’d had any energy to spare.

“We’re meeting everyone at the infirmary then, you guys run ahead and let Coran know,” Shiro ordered as he motioned for Hunk to take hold of Lance while he turned away and crouched.

With some help he rose on shaking legs, Keith rushing to support his other side when his oxygen deprived legs protested the action.

“Woah, we’ve got you... thanks Keith...”

Their hands under his armpits kept him standing long enough to collapse onto Shiro’s back.

He literally only had the energy after that to throw his arms over Shiro’s shoulders and nestle his chin securely in the space between his own bicep and Shiro’s neck before his body sagged against his leader like dead weight.

“Go! I’m right behind you,” he shouted, his voice dark and fearful.

He could feel Lance straining against him as he followed after them, could hear the way his congested airways sputtered each time he tried to breathe.

Shiro made his way with steady urgency, not exactly jogging but not walking either, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach only forcing his legs to pump quicker as Lance got worse.

Keith and Hunk made it to the medbaby in record time though, both boys panting after sputtering to a halt once they made it through the whooshing doors.

The paladins knew today’s workout would be a doozy, but none of them expected to be doing this much running, especially under these circumstances.

Pidge was on the floor sorting through boxes of medicine and supplies carrying on an in-depth conversation regarding the compositional makeup of altean pharmaceuticals with Coran and Allura.

“Hey guys—wait why do you have...?”

“Empty...”

Keith answered a bit breathlessly as he waved the tube of navy and teal plastic in the air before gesturing to toss it to Coran who nodded and raised his hands in anticipation.

“...figured you’d want to take a look at the ingredients or whatever before Shiro got here with him.”

The air in the room seemed to thin as worry descended upon everyone.

“Christ, Lance!” Pidge exclaimed and sat back on her heels.

“Yeah, he’s not doing too hot,” Hunk said as he joined them, stealing the box of tubes and gadgets from Pidge to rifle through it himself.

Coran’s frown somehow deepened and Allura looked increasingly more distraught as he began filling them in.

“What level of dangerous is his breathing at?” Pidge asked hesitantly, like she didn’t want to hear the answer.

“He’s panicking and already really exhausted, so pretty dangerous. It’s one of the worst attacks I think he’s had in a while...”

Allura worried at her lip and kept glancing between the jumble of medical supplies and the medbay doors while she worked absently to ready a bed, the mice smoothing out wrinkles in the sheets and pulling down corners for her.

“Well, it was smart of number four to think of bringing this. I am synthesizing several medicines in likeness but none of them are exactly complete yet—”

“That’s—fuck, that’s not gonna be good enough...”

Everyone stilled at Hunk’s harsh interruption, his hands shaking in loose fists at his sides while he stared fixedly at the boxes of miscellaneous medical equipment in front of him.

“Lance can’t breathe, he can’t just wait for something to finish synthesizing, he might not be breathing at all when it’s done!”

Pidge scooted across the floor and laid her tiny hands on top of Hunk’s trembling ones.

“I think what Hunk means to say is that Lance’s condition is, erm, kinda dire and requires something that works as fast as possible.”

“Hmmm, I see. That is why the blue wilgam bark salve is strictly for prevention... this is indeed a rather tricky—ah, though I suppose I can try to extract and aerosolize whatever might remain of his earth remedy for a temporary solution,” Coran noted as he braved his stern concentration face and began separating the metal canister from the outer plastic to compare the words on it to the words on the bottles of medicine in front of him.

“And we can always place him in a pod for however long it takes to create an accurate remedy... he is truly in the best hands Hunk, do not fret so much,” Allura finished with a tight smile that was warm and assuring all the same.

It was strange how well she could do that, squash so much worry with such a simple act.

Coran hurried over to a station with lots of tools and canisters and turned on several machines that made various clicking and whirring noises.

Keith’s nose wrinkled at the new sounds but he couldn’t find it in him to feel angry about it. Not when they were going to help Lance when was in such bad shape.

“Okay, okay... those are good ideas,” Hunk agreed with a gasp, he hadn’t realized he’d been withholding air as he lost himself in his panic.

“Deep breaths, big guy,” Pidge urged, the weight of her hands bringing him back down from the brink of panic as his mind raced.

“Yeah, don’t forget that you’re the one who can actually breathe,” Keith chided gently with a hesitant hand on Hunk’s shoulder.

“Right... sorry. It’s just that these can get ugly really quick if—“

The doors whooshed open with an unsettling burst of air as Shiro emerged and crossed the room in a matter of seconds, a flurry of concerned exclamations filling the silence in between pauses of commotion that should have been hurried gasps for air.

But weren’t.

There wasn’t time to make sense of the lack of color in Lance’s face or the absence of movement in his chest as Shiro slid him off of his back, human hand trembling as he moved to support his middle and the base of his neck as he lowered his lifeless body onto the bed.

It was a grim enough sight to have even Allura’s mice crying out.

“Lance!”

“Holy fuck...”

Pidge was acting on autopilot as she pinched the altean breathing mask Coran had pulled out over the bridge of his nose and cupped it under his chin to secure the seal, Keith moving in eerie similarity to connect the tubing and flip the right switches on the machine when it became apparent that Hunk wouldn’t be spurred from his horror any time soon.

It wasn’t prepped because they hadn’t realized they’d be needing it so soon.

“No... nonononono—“

They aren’t sure how they heard it through the muddle of commotion and devastating silence but it stopped them all in their tracks, the faintest whisper of air passing his lips.

His very blue lips, go figure.

“He’s breathing, Hunk. Just barely, though...”

Lance’s eyes were open still and staring at nothing as his neck strained for air that was there now but still not accessible with how severely inflamed his lungs had become, the only sounds leaving his lips at all just rapid exhales where he couldn’t expel enough before his aching lungs screamed for more of what the mask was providing

“It doesn’t look like it’s helping...” Hunk all but sobbed as he gripped the base board of the bed so tightly his fingers blanched.

Lance’s eyes bobbed at that, struggling to locate who out of his friends was distressed through the tears welling at their brims.

They were puffy and bloodshot as silent tears spilled in a continuous stream, his eyebrows drawn together with pain and desperation.

“That’s because it’s not,” Shiro deadpanned, his hands working to soothe over Lance’s stuttering chest as his rasping breaths caught in his throat on their way out.

“Wh-how is it not working... it’s oxygen?!”

It was almost pitiful how helpless Keith looked as he stated the very blatant fact, his expression sharp and his tone prickly, like he didn’t know who or what to be mad at.

“His airways,” Pidge started weakly, her voice wavering, “they must be too tight for the air to get through...”

Shiro’s hand gripped Lance’s fiercely. It was ice cold.

The gravity of the situation dawned on his friends like a literal blow then, all eyes turning to Allura.

“Coran... he-he’s working on something, but...”

It wasn’t often that the paladins saw the princess hesitate. Her usual order of proceeding during a crisis was to do something brave or noble first and think about it later, but her impulse instinct was uncharacteristically absent as she stared at Lance’s greying face.

Her hands rose slowly, long fingers uncurling from where they’d been pressed tightly in her palms to reveal a subtle pink glow.

“Princess...”

“I know, Shiro... it’s just—I am scared it might cause him greater discomfort...”

“I don’t think we have time to worry about that, Allura,” Keith noted gravely from the foot of the bed where Lance’s eyes were half focused and darting between him and Hunk.

A status update from Coran made the tension in the room skyrocket further as he estimated another twenty or so dobashes before anything was viable.

It only took one more particularly worrisome sound of distress from Lance for Allura’s hands to descend on his chest with certainty, the pink furls leaving her fingers and settling on his body for not even a second before his back arched off the bed with a strangled gasp.

Allura grimaced as she called upon several energy reserves to ease the vice constricting Lance’s lungs as fast as she could.

A phantom tightness bloomed in her own chest as she visualized the pressure leaving his while she forced each passage back open, the channel she had opened between them by using her powers allowing her to feel the gridlock for herself.

She didn’t let up until Lance was sinking back into the pile of pillows and by then she was so lightheaded that her vision was spotting, but Keith was at her side and gripping her elbow securely before she could even stumble when the strength in her legs wavered.

“I am quite alright, just feeling a bit weak.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take a seat for a few anyway?”

Lance couldn’t really make sense of the conversations going on around him while he collected himself after being released from the pulls of Allura’s magic.

“It’ll pass, Keith.”

“Allura...”

Not that he was known for having stellar listening skills, but he was just usually able to follow along with the general flow of things even when otherwise preoccupied.

“Coran you said only eighteen minutes, right?”

The voices of his friends filtered back in slowly though, his skull throbbing still after the horrible pressure had lifted.

“Can you lift his head for a sec so I can secure the strap?”

He hadn’t been coherent of much of anything before, fixing what remained of his energy on the miserable stalemate in his chest.

“It’s only seventeen dobashes and forty three tics now...”

And then the twisted relief of Allura’s magic.

But after that his hearing seemed to flatline, zeroing in on a high pitched hiss that was either static or the oxygen flow of which droned on and dribbled into his present when the tension that had yanked every muscle in his body taught alleviated all at once.

It was so disorientating it almost nauseated him and brought a distinct rush of blood to his eardrums, the oxygen flooding his deprived bloodstream like a dam had broken and left him feeling utterly weightless.

Shiro was the first one to break through the barrier of cotton that muffled his brain.

“Easy, Lance,” he instructed when he didn’t start breathing normally right sway, too stunned by the sudden levity to remember how.

“Take it slow hermano, you’re okay now...”

Everything was still uncomfortably tight and restricted, but air was at least accessible even as his body struggled to acclimate to the change, his heaves greedy and crackling.

“I was able reduce the inflammation for now but there is a substantial amount of fluid that remains in his lungs.”

“Fluid? What like blood?”

“No, Keith, not blood. Phlegm.”

“Oh, gross.”

Lance let out an indignant huff at that and despite the restriction of the mask managed to return the look of disgust the mullet had given him.

“Why is that so bad if it’s just phlegm?”

“Because anything in your lungs besides air is bad, Keith. It’s your lungs!”

“Precisely, Pidge. And it will only keep irritating Lance’s but we cannot risk him progressing back to such a state before Coran has derived his medicine when my powers are not indefatigable.”

“Yep...” Lance winced.

In order to speak he had to battle against the congestion in his chest which made his already wrecked voice sound downright abrasive.

“Shhh, no talking!” Pidge hissed with a warning glare.

But when was Lance ever known to take good advice when it’s given?

“Think... I can feel th’fluid... s’not very—“

He didn’t have to elaborate any more than that to get his point across because the rapping of his own vocal cords against each other had him launching into a harsh fit of coughing that rocked his entire frame. The accumulated cloud of condensation in the mask never allowed to chance to dissipate fully as he hacked.

It sort of felt like he was drowning since he didn’t have the strength to get his arms underneath him while all of the crap that his stupid respiratory system produced to counteract the strain in his lungs only worked to suffocate him and his freshly reduced air passages.

“Shit someone help me get him up, it’ll be easier to breathe if he’s vertical...”

Hunk surged to grab the arm that was closest to him as Shiro slotted his own beneath Lance’s back and hefted him into what only partially passed as a sitting position. But the motion made his head spin and his stomach clench and then Hunk’s hands planted on either of his shaking shoulders to keep him from tilting over as Shiro slid behind him.

The others looked on with horror.

“You’re okay,” Shiro assured as he pulled Lance towards himself.

He was grateful for the solidity of Shiro’s chest, his hold firm enough that Lance didn’t have to work anymore to keep himself up as he slumped into it, but the tears started back up anyway when he continued to actively choke on what felt like nothing despite being upright.

But there wasn’t anything in his throat to actually choke on.

“Just gotta work through it...”

He was starting to get really tired of the exhaustion and malaise that came with being deprived of oxygen for an extended period of time.

“Paladins! Only fourteen—er, minutes remaining.”

“Hear that bud? You’re gonna be okay.”

He did hear but he’s shaking his head in the crook of Shiro’s arm where his head had lolled because he can’t wait that long. He can’t.

“Yeah, you’ll feel better real soon,” Hunk affirmed.

But Lance was verging on a hysteria that he couldn’t summon the strength to express when every muscle that can be strained in his body felt like it most definitely was. And with how acutely his ribcage ached he was also certain he’d displaced a couple of those false ribs made up of just cartilage too.

“Hey, no don’t get upset, you’re gonna be fine!”

He’s never been more exhausted in his life and he can’t communicate that he can’t wait that long because he hasn’t stopped coughing.

His eyes are burning from the amount of crying he’s done so he relies on touch alone when a hand cups his chin and turns it, deducing it must be Allura.

“Lance, can you hear me?”

A shakey jerk seems to be good enough for her.

“I know you aren’t the biggest fan of the healing pods, but I understand that you are in a great deal of distress still and I believe you have endured enough...”

“What are you—oh, yeah! We could totally just put him in stasis like you and Coran were for thousands of years and bring him out when the medicine is ready.”

“Yes, just as Pidge puts it. There is no need to extend the suffering of one of my paladins.”

Shiro set his jaw as he regarded Allura sternly, it didn’t matter what she believed if Lance didn’t agree and he knew how wary he was of returning to the pods after the harrowing experience that landed him in one for the first time.

“Is that something you want to do? It’s alright if you aren’t comf—“

“Please.”

His voice was small, hard even a rasp, but it didn’t need to be loud for Shiro to accept it as his answer.

“Okay...”

Lance checked out after that, allowing himself to save the energy it took to focus on what was happening around him.

So when he started registering Shiro’s voice in his ear he wasn’t exactly sure how both him and the respirator came to be at the foot of a cryochamber but he made a desperate noise at the realization.

“I know, bud. You’re almost there but we need to take the mask off.”

No one missed the fear that flashed across his face before it softened into resignation, or otherwise known as I don’t care, please put me in that stupid thing right now.

Shiro was still holding him and seemed to sense the urgency in it.

“I’m gonna stand up with you...”

It was so surprise when Lance’s knees hardly held any of his own weight before wobbling and giving out as Shiro stood with him still flush against his chest.

He regarded Hunk with a lazy roll through lidded eyes as he tipped his head forward and worked the strap off but held the mask in place.

Distantly aware of the burst of air from the pod opening and a renewed flurry of commotion around him, Lance tried to work with Shiro as he ushered him forward but his legs were too heavy and he couldn’t coordinate his movements well.

Someone else’s hands were on him, bending his knee so they could set one leg down in the pod and send the rest of his body with it. He thinks it might’ve been Keith.

The various sets of hands on him stay even after he’s securely in place, probably scared he would crumple if they did.

They were probably right.

“-nce. Hey, Lance? There you are, this is gonna suck but only for a second. I promise. Ready?”

You would’ve missed the brief hum from his somewhere deep in his sore chest if you weren’t practically inside the pod with him like Shiro seemed to be.

“Okay, now Hunk.”

The crackling heave that erupted from hims mouth was something a dying thing made, but he couldn’t hear himself or the horrible sound he made as consciousness began to swiftly melt away in stages.

First with the initial pressure everywhere after the removal of the mask.

And then pain because holy shit he couldn’t breathe.

But the cold creeped into his bones at light speed and the darkness wasn’t too far behind.

#lance whump #vld #voltron fandom #lance voltron #vld lance #lance mcclain #lance has asthma here #voltron whump #voltron #asthma #lance headcannon #voltron fic #voltron headcanons #voltron fanfic #voltron lance #voltron angst #hunk vld #hunk anxiety

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heyitsjay03 · 3 years

Text

Fighting For Tomorrow: Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Still haven’t bought AOT but I’m working on it!

AN: this. is a doozy of a chapter- i know. lots. and lots. and lots of words. but DAMN if i didnt love every part of it. however! if you guys prefer smaller chapters please please please dont hesitate to say something. seriously. id love to write you guys more frequent, smaller chapters but if you guys like the longass, slightly infrequent chapters then they shall continue. just say the word bby. also i felt kinda poetic in some of these sections so if you see reader gettin fancy with her verbage, don’t trip. that was my bad.

Reiner x Fem!Reader, eventual Captain Levi x Fem!Reader, Sasha x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 10k (i finished this at 2 am today before class and nearly passed out at the sight ‘10,008 words’ when i pulled up my word counter. CH-YOW this a big boy)

TW: gore/blood/violence/death, adult language/swearing, slight PTSD, mental anguish, self-harm, grief, nightmares, insomnia, hysterics, horse accident

You can read parts one, two, three, four, and five just by tapping the lovely numbers!

The flames crackle and rage before us, engulfing our comrades’ bodies in scarlet and gold waves.

Engulfing Marco’s body.

Jean had found him. Just… laying there. Up against a building. No one had seen him die, no one knew how he died, just that he did. Marco- our comrade, our friend... my friend- just gone. Taken from us. There was no valiant deed. There was no heroism. There was no triumphant story. Nothing. He just… died.

And that’s the worst part.

He was taken from us and no one knows how. No one knows why.

Marco was one of the first comrades I got close to. We were competitive- always fighting to outdo each other. I’d train two hours, he’d train three. He’d pass the ODM test after four tries, I’d pass it in three. Back and forth, back and forth.

But if we faced something bigger than us- if there was an exercise we couldn’t quite pin down, if there was another Cadet giving us problems, if one of our squad members were injured- we’d always come together to beat it. It was always like that.

He was like my little brother.

I scoff at myself. They all are like my younger siblings. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, even Annie and Bertholdt. They’re all family and losing Marco… it was like losing a brother.

I did lose a brother.

My brother is among the flames- being turned to ash before my eyes. Marco is gone. Taken from me. Robbed from me. From everyone. His intellect, his kindness, his leadership. All of it gone. Taken from humanity.

We’re just kids.

Marco was just a kid.

All of us- bright-eyed kids wanting to do our best for humanity. To take back what was stolen from us. To serve humanity. We didn’t know how much hate, how much horror was waiting for us. To watch our comrades- our family and friends- be torn apart in front of us. To lose the ones closest to us in unspeakable carnage.

All we wanted was to do something for humanity.

All Marco wanted was to do something for humanity.

He was just a kid.

Tears are streaming down my face as we all watch the flames consume the bodies of fallen soldiers. I can hear the crackling of wood, feel the heat on my skin. But the crackling is distant and the heat is faint. My chest feels empty and cold.

I lost Marco. I lost Hannah. I lost Franz.

And I’ll never get them back.

But I’ll be damned if I allow anyone else to be taken from me.

The Commander roars and rages before us, engulfing us in his words. They burn and singe like fire as they cross the Cadets’ ears. I can hear them whispering among themselves- asking if he’s serious or if he’s crazy or already resigning themselves to the Garrison.

It doesn’t matter what they say.

I’m joining the Scouts. Commander Erwin’s words are a comfort, a pleasant yet caveat warmth. Like a candle sitting beside a curtain. I know what I’m signing up for. I’ve always known. But it doesn’t mean I’ll be giving it all up now.

“I’ve made my decision.”

My eyes turn away from the Commander, landing on Reiner’s form beside me. His gaze is still stuck on the Commander, back straight and shoulders squared. I turn my gaze back to the Commander- not wanting to be chewed out by a commanding officer for not paying attention. “...really?” I ask quietly, “Where are you-?”

“The Scouts.”

My eyes are back on him. “What?” I hiss, “Reiner, you can’t... throw away your shot at the Military Police- you worked so hard, why would you-?”

“Eren was right,” he says quietly. I can feel his chest fill with breath before he chuckles. “They don’t need our skills so far away from the walls. They need us where we’re at use- where the people are.”

“Rei, please, please,” I whisper, “Please don’t do this.”

“Why not?” Reiner chuckles again, “You want me gone?”

“It’s not like that,” I shoot back, “I just…”

“You just what?”

“...I don’t wanna lose anyone else.”

“...you won’t.”

“You can’t know that… I’m already worried about Eren and Armin and Mikasa- if I have to worry about anyone else-”

“You don’t need to worry about me, darling… Because we’re going to get through this,” I can feel his finger graze the side of my hand before his hand takes mine. “Together.”

A shaky exhale leaves my mouth as I close my eyes. “...together,” I whisper as shivers run down my spine.

“That’s right, darling.”

“...those who wish to join other divisions are dismissed.”

Shuffles of feet scurry past me as I remain. I can feel their gazes, their judging glares and confused looks. They mumble to themselves. ‘Insane’, ‘crackpots’, ‘suicidal’, ‘deathwish’. Nervously, I swallow and grip Reiner’s hand tighter.

I can feel his smile. Proud and bright like the sun. Warming like the sun. Relaxation smoothes out over my skin as I soak it in.

I’ve done it. Finally. After years of fighting and hoping and wishing and dreaming about this very moment, I’m here.

The crowd clears out and a scattering of us remains. My eyes dart to each of the figures in the hopes of identifying my fellow crackpots.

Reiner. Armin. Mikasa. Bertholdt. Ymir. Christa. Sas-

My heart stops.

Sasha. Connie. Jean.

What the Hell are they doing here?! They were supposed to join the Military Police. They were going to, weren’t they?! Why are they still here?! Why aren’t they walking away?

At the very base of my stomach, something churns. Quickly and violently.

I think I’m gonna be sick.

I’m already going to be looking out for Armin, Eren, and Mikasa- I came to accept that long ago- but now Sasha? And Reiner? Connie and Jean, too?

Most of everyone I’ve ever loved has just signed their hearts and bodies away to the Scouts- to nearly certain death.

There has to be a way to change their minds, right? There has to be.

...but there isn’t, is there?

They heard the statistics. They know how many have died in the Scouts. They know all the facts, all the dirtiest of details.

And they stayed.

Gods, why did they stay?

I’ll drag each of them out of here by their ears, kicking and screaming, if I have to. I already lost Marco and Hanna and Franz. I don’t think I could take losing them, too.

But if they truly want to- if they know the risk and want to dedicate their hearts just like I am… why would I stop them?

I should be proud.

They’re- we all are- dedicating ourselves to the better future humanity deserves. To the eradication of Titans. To the freedom we all hunger for.

“Very well!” Commander Erwin’s voice booms out over us. “I welcome you- the newest recruits of the Scout Regiment!” His fist slams against his chest in a tight salute, “This is my real salute! Dedicate your hearts to the cause!”

The group moves as one as we all strike our fists to our chests.

My eyes glide from the Commander to Sasha once more.

She’s shaking. I can hear her stifled sobs from here.

But she remains firm in her spot.

She’s made her decision.

And I can accept that.

I lay awake. Moonlight flickers through the window- inching towards the other side of the room. It’s late and I’m exhausted but even when I am, I can’t sleep. There’s too much screaming in my head. Too much gore. Too much carnage that I can only barely remember. The only things that do remember are my heart and lungs- hammering and pounding and stretching to the fullest in the wake of whatever nightmare slinked back into the recesses of my mind.

Reiner stirs in his sleep and wraps his arms around my waist. Tucking me into him, he sighs and buries his head into my neck. “...can’t sleep?” he mumbles. His voice is deep. Deeper than usual, with a gentle rumble to it.

“No,” I whisper back, shrinking into him.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I stay silent. No. No, I really, really, really, really don’t want to. Talking about whatever bothers me is like pulling teeth. It feels like a burden that I’m casting onto someone else. And with Reiner… he’s burdened enough already. He’s everyone’s big brother. Everyone’s confidant. He shoulders responsibilities and punishments for others- never once thinking about himself.

But he’s exhausted. All the time, exhausted. And he’s so good at hiding it. Even around me. But I can see it. The way his golden eyes go hazy at times, the way his shoulders sag and the way things slip his mind. The way he can become an entirely different person with terrifying speed.

It scares me how much I think he carries. Because when he breaks… it’ll be cataclysmic.

Reiner’s lips slide up my shoulder and neck, pressing gentle kisses against my skin. “...well?”

But maybe he’ll open up to me if I take the step first. Maybe I’ll show him that there’s nothing to worry about- that I’m not going anywhere and that he can talk to me about anything. Everything.

“...I’ve… I’ve been having nightmares.”

His kisses stop where they are, lips still pressed to my skin for a moment before pulling away. His grip on me gets tighter as he pulls me closer. Reiner lets his head rest in the crook of my neck and sighs. “...what about?”

I laugh quietly, letting my fingers trail against his forearm. “...I don’t remember most of them but… there is one that comes back… every now and then.”

“I’m listening, darling.”

Slowly, I take a breath. My eyes close as I remember the details of the dream. “...it always starts off the same… I’m in a throne room and there’s a person at my feet. Sometimes… it’s a woman and other times it’s a man and other times, I can’t tell which, but… there’s always someone at my feet,”

“And they’re always crying,” I whisper, eyebrows drawing together and I grip his forearm. “Sobbing and pleading for mercy. A-...And I…” My voice quivers as tears start to flow from my eyes. “I… just… I don’t even know, I just… I see this… light- red light- come from their eyes and they just… they convulse and thrash around for a moment- screaming and crying and begging- before… before they…,”

“...before they die at my feet,” I whisper brokenly, eyes open and staring out into the distance as the scene replays. “And when they finally die… I look up… and there’s… corpses. Thousands upon thousands of corpses, Rei… All piled up on top of each other and in writhing rigidity. As far as I could see- there were bodies- and… and somehow I know that… that I… I had… somehow I know that I was the one that killed them all.”

“I’m your squad leader, Ness,” the man before us states before clapping a hand onto the horse towering beside him. “And this! Is my horse, Chalet…”

My eyes drift away from him, blankly settling on the various horses in their stalls behind me. I’ve tuned him out… I should probably listen to whatever he has to say. But… I’m so tired. Another night of staring at the ceiling while listening to Reiner snore and watching Bertholdt contort himself into a coil across the room.

I don’t know how many sleepless nights I have left.

My body lurches forward slightly as someone nudges me from behind. I turn to face whoever it was. Jean is towering over me with a smirk on his face as he pretends to be watching Squad Leader Ness. “...what the hell was that for?” I mutter, facing forward.

“You were falling asleep again,” he chuckles quietly, “Another… late night?”

I scoff and shake my head, “You’re a child.”

“You didn’t say ‘no’.”

“No, Jean,” I hiss, “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

I can feel him deflate slightly behind me. “...oh…”

“Yeah.”

“...I get them, too.”

“I really hope you don’t.”

Connie, standing beside me, scoots closer. “What’re we talkin’ about?”

Jean answers at the same time as I do. “Sex.”

“Food.”

Connie’s eyebrows furrow slightly as he risks a glance at me. “...huh?”

I sigh and roll my eyes, “We were talking about-”

“Did someone say ‘food’?” Sasha whispers excitedly behind me.

I sigh and roll my eyes again. “You three are-”

“Hilarious.”

“Your favorites.”

“Really hungry.”

Groaning softly, I shake my head at their responses. “Gods… I thought Armin, Eren, and Mikasa were a lot… then I had to get you knuckleheads thrown in, too.”

“Now!” Ness states, looking significantly more disheveled than he did a few minutes ago. Adjusting the bandana around his head, he huffs and stands up straight. “Follow me and I’ll show you to your dorms- and then you’ll be introduced to your horses.”

He walks off, leading us between the stables and the looming walls of the castle. My eyes trail up the crumbling stone- plants and vines and flowers managing their way through the cracks- and over the rolling hills dotted with trees. Sunlight floods the stone courtyard, basking us all in its warmth.

It reminds me of home.

Not Shiganshina- but of the modest cottage in the forest. I smile to myself, watching Sasha bother Jean with Connie’s help just in front of me. I remember playing with her in the trees. We made and marked that forest. There isn’t a tree in that entire forest we haven’t carved up with arrows and knives or with the undersides of our shoes as we climbed their roots and limbs. Sasha would be afraid at first- of foxes or wolves or falling or tripping. But as soon as I took her hand and led her to the sunlight, to the tops of the trees, to the very breath of the sky… she’d always hunger for more. To go to the brightest spot in the forest, to climb the highest tree, to scale the steepest cliff.

My smile starts to fade slightly.

She’s even more afraid than she used to be… did I cause that? Does she even remember? She was young when I left… Does she remember when she scraped her knee and told her that she was now one with the forest- that its blood was in her and her blood in it? Does she remember that first tree we climbed together? Does she remember the nights we would run barefoot around the dew-covered clearings in the heart of the woods with no light to guide us except that of the moon? Does she remember what it was like to not be afraid?

Will we ever get to go back…?

The group stops. Ness smiles at us and points down the hallway to our left. “Down this hallway are the boys’ rooms,” he points to the hallway to our right. “And down this one is the girls’.” He chuckles and turns back to us. “There is… one other thing.”

Uh oh.

“There’s only one bathroom.”

I stifle a groan. It’s a goddamn castle. How in the walls is that even possible- one bathroom, my ass.

“Well… only one that’s in good enough shape to be used, anyway. ‘sides the officers’ bathroom...” Ness admits, a sheepish smile growing on his lips as he rubs the back of his head. “You’re welcome to fix up the other ones, though! ...although, I think you’d need help…” Ness continues muttering more to himself than anyone else.

One bathroom. Unbelievable. I growl under my breath as Ness marches us back out into the courtyard. You’d think Captain Shortstack would be all over the renovations of this place- bathrooms included.

Whatever. It’s not like I shower when everyone else does, anyway. There’s always a possibility I could sneak into the officers’ bathroom like when we were in training… And there was that river...

“I can see you already coming up with a plan,” Sasha appears next to me, lowering her voice. “What’re ya thinkin’?”

I laugh softly, nudging her arm with my elbow. “Nothing regarding food.”

Sasha pouts slightly, “Fine… then what’re ya thinkin’ about?”

“Just plannin’ my way into the officers’ bathroom.”

“Oooh,” Sasha laughs maliciously. “Do you think they’ll have hot water?”

I sigh, closing my eyes and imagining the steam and feel of hot water cascading down my body. Hot water was a privilege in the Cadet Corps. ...one that was constantly being robbed from me. I’d mostly show up after everyone had already showered, praying that maybe I’d have even a moment to myself to unwind- and to not be stared at. And nearly every time, I bathed in freezing cold water. But there were a few times where I’d be wrapped in steam, delicate streams of hot water warming my frigid body.

...now that I think about it, those ‘few times’ were whenever Reiner would wake me up early to get in the shower before everyone else.

“Gods,” I mumble, looking at Reiner as he walks with Bertholdt and Annie. “I really hope so, ‘tato-muncher.”

As if he felt my gaze on him, Reiner turns around and smiles. I return the smile with a scrunch of my nose. Reiner’s eyes glide behind me for a second, returning to me before darting back behind me. I turn around to follow his gaze.

Eren.

Eren runs straight for us, green cape flaring out behind him as he charges towards the group. Our eyes meet and his pace increases. My hand latches onto Sasha’s sleeve and tugs, “‘Tato! ‘Tato, look!” I laugh, slapping Connie’s shoulder. “Look who it is!”

Connie and Sasha turn around and I can hear the others turn along with them. Armin and Mikasa greet him first, taking him into their arms and speaking quietly amongst themselves for a moment. When they break away, Eren’s smile widens as he looks over us.

“...you’re all here?” he asks quietly, smile slightly fading. “You all joined the Scouts?”

“Well, yeah,” I laugh, “Why else would we be here- shits ‘nd giggles?”

Eren rolls his eyes before scanning over us again. “Wait… if you’re all here… That means Jean, Marco, and Annie all joined the Military Police.”

My heart plummets like a rock into my stomach. That’s right. He wasn’t there for the funeral. He doesn’t know.

The remaining section of our group walks up behind Eren- Jean leading them all. Eren turns around and groans. “Not you, too.”

Jean doesn’t react. His face unreadable and voice flat, he rips the bandage off. “Marco’s dead.”

“...what?” Eren mumbles, “What did you just… What’d you just say? Did you say Marco died?”

Jean’s voice stays still as he continues.

“Seems like not everyone can die a dramatic death.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” I laugh, picking up a section of hay and starting back towards the stable. “We know everyone, every thing’s position in the formation except Eren’s- arguably the most volatile and important piece of information to have. That isn’t the least bit confusing to you?”

Reiner shrugs, taking the hay from my hands. “Dunno… I haven’t really thought about it.”

I huff and shake my head, stepping in front of him and taking the hay back. “I can carry it,” I mutter, looking at the ridges growing in his face. “And by the look on your face, you have been thinking about it.” I turn around, lifting the hay over the stable door and onto the growing pile just beside my horse.

My horse nudges me with his nose, huffing. I smile and rub my hand up and down his nose, “...needy, aren’t we?” I whisper softly.

“Ya gonna give him a name?” Reiner asks, patting his hand against the horse’s neck.

Peeking down under the horse’s neck, I squint up at him. “You didn’t answer me.”

Reiner rolls his eyes and walks away, sighing. “You didn’t ask anything.”

“I asked if you were thinking about why we weren’t being filled in on Eren’s location in the formation.”

“Technically, you didn’t ask,” he shoots back.

My eyes lock with his in an intense stare. “...we really gonna do this right now?” I ask quietly, still petting my horse.

Reiner sighs and looks away, running a hand through his hair. I turn back to my horse, letting my forehead rest against his cheek. Reiner sighs again. The three of us stand in silence- only my horse breaking the silence with occasional huffs and flicks of his tail.

“...I have been thinking about it,” Reiner finally mumbles. “But… not like you have.”

Here we go again with him being all cryptic and skittish and avoidant. I am so sick of this game.

“Then how have you been thinking about it, Reiner?” I hiss, lifting my head off my horse and looking into his large grey eye. “All the time- just when I think you’re gonna open up to me about what’s going on in that…” I sigh frustratedly, “That… that… stupid, thick, adorable, blond head’a yours you just… you shut me back out again. And it’s so goddamn irritating, Rei,” I admit with a slight squeak in my voice.

Slowly, I turn to face him, gaze dropping down to the ground. “...I’ve been… I’ve been so open with you. More open than I have with anyone in my whole life- except, I dunno... Sasha- but I just… It’d be nice to have some’a that returned.”

I can hear him get closer to me. Gently, his arms wrap around me and tuck me into his chest. I’m swallowed in his embrace as he runs his fingers up and down my back. “...okay,” he whispers, “okay, darling… I’ll… I’ll try and open up to you, okay? I’ll…” he trails off and sighs, tightening his hold on me as he places his chin on the top of my head.

“I know how hard it is, and… I… I’m not trying to force it out of you or anything… I just… I want to help you,” I whisper quietly. “And I promise you, Rei...I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s a coldness in his laugh. It leaves his lips like ice and falls to the floor like daggers. “Thank you, darling. Just…,” Reiner takes my shoulders, pushing us apart. His gold eyes have slightly lost their luster as they peer deep into me. I squirm slightly in his stare, eyebrows furrowing. “You have to understand that there is a lot happening- something... bigger, darling.”

I blink and tilt my head slightly to the side. “Did you… did you get another assignment?” I ask quietly, “Something under the table?”

Reiner is quiet for a moment, eyes flicking between mine. “...yes. Something under the table- from people higher than the Captain.”

My eyes widen slightly. Is this what’s been weighing on him for so long? That’s why he’s been missing at times? What he’s been trying to tell me? Another assignment that he can’t talk about, even with me-

Oh gods.

I feel like a total ass.

“Who…?” I ask quietly, taking note of the way he straightens up to scan around us before shrinking back down.

Reiner scoots us back, tucking me up against the stable door. “I… I can’t tell you but… you understand that, right, darling?” He asks hopefully, a small lilt to his voice. Gently, his fingers trail my face and a small smile crosses my face. His lips mirror mine.

“I understand that, love,” I hum, leaning into his touch. “I do… I do have another question.”

Reiner smiles wider, lovingly staring down at me. “What is it, darling?”

Nervous claws at my stomach.

I shouldn’t ask this.

Why? He’s finally being open with me- willing to at least tell me what’s wrong. Shouldn’t I-

No. There’s something bigger here. Don’t. Ask.

“__________?”

I swallow my fear and meet his gaze. “...I heard you the night after the first clean-up operation,” I admit quietly, “with Annie and Bertholdt.”

Reiner’s eyes darken, dropping down and avoiding my gaze. “...how much did you...?”

“Not much,” I laugh nervously, “Just you guys arguing about telling me… and Annie saying to only tell me when you’re sure of how I’d feel.”

With a sigh of relief, he closes his eyes and smiles. He quickly presses his lips to my forehead. “Okay, okay… Okay… Sorry, I just… I don’t need t’get... chewed out for that.” I chuckle softly, “So… that big’a deal, huh?”

Reiner laughs, “Yes. That big of’a deal.”

“...so… it’s you, Annie, and Bertholdt,” I mumble, picking at the leather strap running down his chest. “Anyone else that I know?”

“No, just us three.”

“Am… am I in danger?” I ask jokingly, “All this secrecy- it makes me wonder.”

Reiner doesn’t laugh with me.

“Rei?” I call, looking up at him. “...am I?”

His eyes slide down to me, a small smile on his lips. “...stick with me, darling- I’ll keep ya safe.”

“...what?”

“There’s a lot at work here, __________,” Reiner sighs, his eyes going hazy for a second as he relives whatever is ‘at work’. Blinking, he focuses back on me. “But I can keep you safe. I’ve been keeping you safe.”

What does this even mean? Are there people I can’t trust? If that’s true, then what? What am I supposed to do? Be some tiny little doll cowering in fear behind him? I hate being treated like some weak, fragile, defenseless thing. And what if he gets hurt protecting me? What then? What if something goes wrong and he ends up being blamed for something he didn’t do?

And what about Sasha?

“...what about my sister? What about her? Who’s gonna keep her safe?” I ask, clutching the fabric covering his chest, “If anything happens to Sasha, I…”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to Sasha,” Reiner hums quietly, “We’re gonna keep her safe.”

“And Eren? Mikasa? Armin? What about the boys? If any of them get hurt, Rei, I just… I don’t think I could…”

“__________,” he says firmly, catching my attention. Slowly, my eyes slide up to meet his again. They’re gentle and glowing in the fading sunlight. His hand trails down my face again, leaving a buzzing wake behind it.

“You need to trust me.”

I swallow and nod quickly. “Okay, yes, okay… Okay, you’re right. We… We are all gonna be okay.”

Reiner chuckles and lets his chin rest on the top of my head as he tucks me into his chest again.

“That’s my girl.”

“Oiii!” I yell, waving a hand over my head. “Ponytail!”

Eld’s head starts swiveling around, looking for whoever called him. With a gentle kick of my horse, he trots closer. “Eld!” I call again, sliding off the side of my horse. My feet hit the dirt just in front of him as I straighten up, shaking a few stray hairs out of my eyes. “It’s good to see ya again.”

Eld smiles and chuckles, gesturing down to the emerald green cape around my shoulders. “So you made it.”

I look down and rub the fabric between my fingers. A smile crosses my face as I look back up to him. “Just like I dreamed I would.”

“You’re in pretty high spirits,” Oluo scoffs as he walks by with a supply box. Setting it down into a wagon, he huffs and turns to face us. “Considering we’ll all be facing death in a few hours.”

“Always the charmer, huh?” I mutter quietly, earning a small laugh from Eld. “And if you have t’know, I’m just happy we’re one step closer to going outside the walls…” I smile to myself, imagining the places Armin used to talk about. Fire water, ice hills, saltwater that goes on for so long even the merchants couldn’t drain all the salt from it.

I think that’ll be my favorite. ‘Sea’.

Oluo scoffs again. “Bright-eyed, suicidal recruit… Just don’t get someone else killed, will ya?”

“What the hell’s that supposed t’mean?” I snap back.

Oluo smiles crookedly, realisation splitting his face like a piece of china. “Struck a nerve, huh?,” he laughs, “Better get rid of those if you wanna make it.”

“Bold talk for someone that’s too insecure to keep his own personality,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. I turn my attention back to Eld- who’s gone awfully quiet as the two of us went at it. A blush is back on his cheeks and I can see him fidgeting with his gaze in an effort to mind his own business.

“...uhm…” He mumbles as his eyes catch someone walking behind me. “This is Petra!” Eld blurts, tugging a woman by the arm. “The one that checked on you when you were, uh… asleep.”

“In a coma, more like,” I laugh, dipping my head to the woman. She has ginger hair cut just above her shoulders and soft, kind eyes. There’s something about her that reminds me so much of a deer for some reason.

Petra’s eyes suddenly light up as she looks over me again. “I remember you- you’re __________! I didn’t know you had your heart set on the Scouts. Which is surprising… considering how much Eld talks about you.”

Eld’s face goes even redder. He stands rigidly, eyes fixated on the horizon.

...I think he just went into shock.

“Well, thank you,” I hum, giving Petra another smile. “For checking in on me.”

Petra shakes her head, “It wasn’t any issue at all.”

I dip my head again and lightly punch Eld’s shoulder. “Hopefully you told her the story of how I kicked your and Oluo’s asses.”

Petra tilts her head slightly to the side before a wicked smile crosses her lips. “...I don’t think I’ve heard that one, __________. Please, tell me.”

“Well, I was walking down an alleyway when-”

“That’s good!” Eld suddenly yelps, “Thank you so much, __________, for stopping by, but the Captain’s calling us!”

Petra giggles as Eld walks behind her, pushing her by the shoulders. Captain Shortstack Jackass is watching them with his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows furrowed. He very obviously didn’t call either of them. “You’ll have to tell me when we get back!” Petra calls.

“Of course!” I laugh, watching as Eld goes even redder. Petra waves over his shoulder and I do the same before mounting my horse. I give his neck a gentle pat and urge him forward- back towards the stable.

“You... need a name, Horse,” I mutter as we trot past the various wagons and other Scouts getting their horses and gear ready. “All horses have names… I guess.”

Horse huffs at me.

“Well… you’re…” I look down at his coat as we start to pick up speed. It shimmers in the sunlight, revealing the faint speckles of black and grey under his cream-colored coat. “You’re cream and you’ve got freckles. And last I checked, you have grey-” Horse looks over slightly at me, light-brown eyes glistening. “Sorry… brown eyes. And black mane and tail.”

My eyes flick up, locking onto the figure standing just a few feet in front of my horse. Gripping the reins, I tug back to stop Horse from trampling whoever is in front of me. Instead, I feel myself being shot forward and colliding with the ground. Pain shoots out from my arm, branching out in heated flashes.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the clouds as they lazily float by. “Gods…” I mutter to myself, “That sucked.”

“Told you I’m better at handling horses than you.”

I sit straight up. My head on a swivel, I look around for the voice. It sounded just like… It couldn’t have been- no. No, I’m just-

My eyes land on him. Standing just a couple feet away, with a green Scouts cape on over his shoulders and ODM gear strapped on. He laughs, walking closer and shaking his head. “Jeez, __________, you’ll really get yourself killed if you keep trying to keep up with me.”

“Freckles?” I whisper.

Marco smiles and laughs again, “Really hit your head hard, didn’t you?”

“Freckles?” I whisper again, reaching out to touch him.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. He’s dead. Bit in half. Died alone. Left in the sun to rot for days. He’s dead.

“Ah, jeez, you really did hit your head hard,” Marco mumbles, crouching down beside me. “We gotta get you to Sasha. She’s got some experience with injuries, doesn’t she…? And I won’t even tell Reiner! It’ll just be between us, okay?” He asks, worriedly scanning my face.

“Freckles, you… You… You aren’t here.”

“What are ya talkin’ about? I’m right here, remember? We were practicing horseback riding and maneuvering. Don’t you remember the bet we had?”

Wait a moment.

This was real.

This… this happened already, why am I…?

“...it was my haul from the Commandant’s office,” I whisper, “The… the fountain pen. You’d… you’d take it if I couldn’t pull off a sharp turn and activate my ODM gear while jumping off my horse.”

Tears start to cloud my vision as I stare up at him. “You aren’t really here,” I croak, “Are you?”

Marco shakes his head.

“...I miss you, Freckles,” I smile, tears slipping down my face as I look up at him. My hand brushes through his cheek- like he was a colored mist- but his smile remains. “Gods, I miss you.”

“You’ll see us again.”

I nod, feeling my tears start down the sides of my face. “...tell Franz and Hanna I said ‘hi’.”

“I will.”

“And you… you stay outta trouble, you hear me?” I laugh, tears choking me at the base of my chest.

“You’re the one that needs to stay outta trouble.”

I nod and laugh again, shaking my head.

“...take… take care’a the others for me, will you?” I nod silently. Marco looks up as Horse trots closer. “It’s time for me to go. Just… close your eyes, okay?”

My eyes slide closed before voices start to swarm around me. Bleeding into one another, it makes it so damned hard to hear what anyone is actually saying. All I can do is feel.

And someone’s got me by the shoulders, shaking me pretty damned hard.

I open my eyes to see familiar faces. “...I’ve got to stop waking up to you guys looking down at me like I’ve died.”

The four of them sigh.

“If you die because of a stupid horse incident, I’ll never forgive you,” Jean mutters, getting to his feet and walking away. I can hear him muttering about ‘how stupid’ of a funeral that would be.

“What?” I laugh, wincing at the pain shooting from above my left eye. My fingers graze the spot- only to pull away with a scarlet coloring.

Ah, shit.

“So,” Reiner grumbles, scooping me off the ground effortlessly. “You and your horse have a bit of an issue?”

I scoff, curling into myself as my head starts to pound.

“No?” He asks as we walk towards the castle. “Then what the Hell kind of stunt were you tryin’a pull?”

“I-,” I stop and groan, clutching my temples as they begin to sear. “I… I thought… I thought I saw someone.”

Reiner looks down at me as he pushes the castle door open with his back. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes flicking over every inch of me. It’s the same damn look as every other time I’ve gotten hurt. Which… arguably… is a lot of times.

The ODM incident where I almost cracked my skull open on a tree branch.

The time I slipped and fell in the bathroom.

The sparring training where I cracked three of my ribs. And my arm. And dislocated my shoulder. All because I wouldn’t yield.

The rooftop.

The grocery store.

Various little minor accidents scattered throughout.

And now this.

We round the corner and he places me onto a bed. I watch as he runs a hand down my face and sticks his head out the hallway to look around before returning to my side. Reiner sighs. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Love me,” I hum, closing my eyes slightly as the pain throbs and squirms beneath my skin. “Unconditionally.”

“Gods,” he mutters, scooting closer. “I probably will.”

“Probably?” I ask quietly. “Not ‘most definitely’?”

A deep sigh passes his lips. It rumbles in his chest like thunder. Calming, soothing, gentle thunder. Memories of the forest running to find shelter as another storm took us by surprise. Bare feet padding the grass. Clothes sticking to our skins. Hair plastered to our faces- much like our smiles. Wiping her face as she ducks behind my arm. Telling her that the forest was telling the sky a joke, that the thunder was the sky’s laughter. Watching her peek out to watch the forest and sky talk, laughing as she swears she heard the punchline.

Does she remember what it was like to not be afraid?

“Hey,” Rei mutters, shaking my arm slightly. “Don’t go to sleep on me yet.”

“...sorry,” I mumble, opening my eyes and letting them glide to his spot beside me. “Where is she-”

The door slams open. Sasha- with eyes wide and clutching medical supplies to her chest- pants in the doorway. “Did I make it?” She asks wearily.

“Did…,” I trail off, sitting up to look at her. “Did you think I died?”

Sasha shakes her head, kicking the door closed just as Connie and Jean try to walk in behind her. “No,” she mutters. Plopping down beside me, she looks over me. “Just thought maybe you’d passed out.”

“Check my eyes,” I remind her. Sasha nods and leans in, forcing open my eyes with her fingers.

“...your eye-holes seem to be fine.”

“...my pupils?”

“Eye-holes. Same thing.”

I know Sasha’s joking but by the look on Reiner’s face, he does not.

“She’s only kidding, love,” I whisper as I take his hand. “She knows the basics.”

“Yep,” Sasha agrees, digging through the pile of medical supplies she brought in. “And you don’t have a concussion- and that thing on your head doesn’t need stitches- it should heal in a week or so... so you’re good to go after I clean it… ha!” She snatches a bottle of saline and a bandage. “You’ll be all good in no time, __________. Trust me.”

I’m the one that taught her. Why don’t I trust her?

“You awake?”

I focus back in on the now. The present. My surroundings.

Scattered trees and hills to the right. Denser trees on my left. Two horses trailing behind me. No flares from either direction. Reiner just in front of me.

“Always am.”

“Good.” He starts to pull back on his horse, levelling off with me. “How’s your head?”

Instinctively, I reach up and graze the bandage. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Good.”

“...are you okay?” I ask, looking over at him. His skin is pale and flushed pink with a slight tinge to his ears. “Here. Drink some.” Unbuckling my flask, I hand it to him.

...and he downs the entire thing before handing it back to me.

“Rei, are you sick?”

“No, I just-”

“Well, love, you look like you’re either about to shit yourself or vomit,” I laugh worriedly, “Are you sure?”

“__________, listen, I…,” he sighs and looks away. He’s even more red now.

I nudge him with my elbow. “I’m listening.” I smirk, stirrupping Horse again. My eyes turn to the horizon, scanning for any flares or anything that approaches us.

Reiner returns my smile and sighs shakily. “I wanna-”

Something appears in the distance. “What is that?” I mumble, staring at the thing. “Do you see it?” I point. “That.”

Reiner looks at the thing, squinting. “I… I can’t tell.”

“Should we fire a flare off?” I ask, reaching to my saddlebag. “Just in case?”

“Just… hang on-”

He stops just as the thing changes form, moving closer towards us and faster.

It takes shape as it grows. Fourteen meters, blonde hair.

Female body type.

My hands move on their own- throwing the canister into the gun, lifting it straight up, and firing. Red smoke fires out from the gun into the clouds. “Rei, we have to move!” I yell, turning the horses in towards the center of the formation.

I look over my shoulder, watching the two horses trail after Reiner. He stays going forward, heading right for it with glazed eyes. “Reiner!”

My eyes follow his gaze as I bring Horse to a stop. They land on the Female Titan, who snatches something from mid-air and dropkicks it. Blood trails after the broken body and I watch ODM wires disconnect from the Female Titan’s body- following the body.

It’s… is it like Eren? A person inside it?

“Reiner!” I scream again.

It gets his attention. Snapping out of his daze, Reiner makes a sharp turn.

As he gets closer, I press my heels into Horse’s sides. “Ha!”

Footsteps follow after us, thundering and quivering the very organs inside of me. My breath catches in my lungs as I feel it- her- getting closer. Gods. Gods, please. Not like this. Not like this. Not like this. Not like this.

Something flashes at my side. With trembling force, a foot lands beside me- crushing one of the horses before it could even make a sound.

We’re going to die. Right now, we are going to die.

I wince, waiting for her to reach down and crush me in her hand. Reiner yells something but it’s lost in the frantic whinnies of our horses, the pounding of my heart, the panting of my lungs. When it reaches me, it’s blurred together like the colors in my eyes.

‘I’ve gotten hurt’ is what it sounds like.

Gods, please. Spare us.

My fists clutch the reins as I look up. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fourteen meters. This is what will kill me.

The Female Titan’s other foot collides with the earth beside me. All at once, sounds and colors and shapes retract into their determined forms. Everything flushes back into focus as the Female Titan takes another step away from us. I watch as she continues sprinting towards the center- leaving us in her wake. Her head turns to look over her shoulder before she presses forward.

Right to Armin.

“Rei!” I yell, sticking Horse again. “She’s gonna hit Armin! She’s headed right for him!”

“C’mon!” He yells back, appearing at my side.

“This is the job we chose, right?” Jean snaps, “So lend me a hand!”

The rest of us are silent. Only hoofbeats and footsteps resound around us. Silently, Armin pulls his hood up over his head. “...pull your hoods up. Over your heads- far down enough so she can’t see your face.”

“You’re thinking she won’t kill anyone that could be Eren,” Reiner mutters, tugging his hood up over his head. “...that’s a nice, but small, consolation… Let’s hope she has bad eyes, too.”

Jean shakes his head, laughing. “I was always creeped out the way you used to hang around Eren so much,” he mutters as he pulls his hood up. “But I always knew you were capable.”

“...‘creeped out’ is a little harsh but thanks,” Armin mumbles.

Feeling the three pairs of eyes on me, I tug my hood up as well. “...I always knew I’d die next to you three bastards.”

“Well. If we don’t,” Reiner chuckles, “We’ll throw a big party ‘nd get married.”

“Oh yeah,” I scoff, pulling my swords out from their holsters. “We’ll have a big ol’ buffet ‘nd everything. I’ll even have a live band play for us.”

“You two lovebirds over there still squawking?” Jean barks, leaning forward to glare at us.

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Reiner shoots back, “I’m… Kinda doin’ something.”

“You can ‘kinda do something’ after this!” Jean yells, “We’re not dying today.”

“Fine!” I snap, “I’m not spending my last moments fighting with you two morons! Let’s just do this. Delay her as long as we can- by any means necessary. Got it?!”

The three grunt in agreement. “Jean, go to her left,” Reiner starts, “Armin, you go to her right. __________, you-”

“I’m going with Armin!” I whip my reins and follow after Armin as he heads to the Female Titan’s right hand side.

We level off just behind her. “She’s much slower than when she attacked me!” Armin comments, “If we’re going to do this, it has to be now!”

“Wait for Jean!” I yell, “He’s the best out of us with ODM gear. If he can get a good angle on her, it’ll be us being his support!”

A flash shoots out, launching into the Female Titan’s leg. Jean flies in behind it with his swords readied. The Titan crouches down and spins- flinging Jean. Armin and I get to our feet and stand on our horses’ backs. As my wires stick into the Female Titan’s leg, I give Horse a tap of my heel that sends him running away from the Titan.

Something swipes just under my legs. Everything around me slows as I watch the Titan’s hand bat Armin’s horse out from underneath him. His name leaves my lips the same way it did when Shiganshina fell. Breathless. Screeching. Desperate. “Armin!”

“__________!” Reiner’s voice carries out over my own.

Before I can do anything, I feel something crack against my back. I’m pushed forward- colliding with the earth and rolling for a few feet. Landing on my back, I stare up in a daze at the clouds.

Aching pain crawls through my veins- igniting my muscles in throbbing, squeezing pain. My back arches as I take long, hard breaths to stop my heart from pounding in my ears. It does nothing but amplify the sound as I feel my lungs burn and the cages around them scream in agony.

Broken ribs. At least a few on each side.

Certain slices and patches of my skin burn from the contact with the ground. Minor scratches, bruises, friction burns.

I’ll live. If she doesn’t finish me off.

Time begins to speed up again- her footsteps not taking so long to hit the ground as they get closer. Clouds seem to flurry past and my heartbeat begins to race once more.

The fight isn’t done yet.

I push myself to my feet, feeling every ache, every pain, every burn a million times over.

The fight isn’t done yet.

I’m not done yet.

The Female Titan tightens her fist, preparing to swing backwards at Jean. Breaking out into a sprint, I click my triggers and shoot my wires into the ground, allowing me to run faster. A blur of gold and green starts towards the Titan as I do- catching me attention so I stutter and stop.

Reiner.

Teeth gritted, eyes blazing, blades glinting. He’s going for her nape.

Armin’s yelling something. The Titan stays completely still as he continues screaming.

And then she snaps.

She catches Reiner’s body in her hand.

My heart stops. Blood stops. Lungs stop.

Everything.

Stops.

“...no.”

Chills run down my spine- dull and weak. Nothing like adrenaline.

Fear.

“No… no.”

I shake my head, watching as Reiner’s body disappears in her grasp.

Someone grabs my waist, tugs me away. “No!” I scream, thrashing around as everything starts to move again. “No!”

“__________!” Jean yells, pulling me away. “We have to go!”

A blur of metal spins out from her grip, severing her fingers off from the base of her palm. Reiner pushes out and around her back. Grabbing Armin, he sprints away from her and towards us.

The four of us break out into a sprint as she stares down at her palm. She gets to her feet and runs away from us- her hand still steaming.

Something breaks inside of me. Tears start running down my face as Reiner sidles up next to me. Armin- bleeding from his forehead- is in his arms. Titan blood evaporates off of Reiner’s hair and shoulders as he looks down at me. “We’ll be okay! She won’t eat us unless she’s a cannibal! We-”

I cut him off, punching his shoulder as hard as I can. “Don’t you ever pull that shit again, Reiner Braun!” I snap, furiously wiping the tears rolling down my face. “I swear on the walls, I… I will kill you myself if you do, do you hear me?! You scared the shit outta me! I… I thought I lost you.”

Reiner laughs breathlessly. “I told you, darling. We haven’t gotten married, yet. I can’t die until that happens.”

“We aren’t leaving anyone behind,” I snap, tightening Armin’s bandages. “None of that, you hear me?”

“We might not have a choice,” Armin mutters, “If we all stay behind, we might all-”

“I said no!”

The three of us go silent as Jean continues whistling for his horse.

But the question still hangs in the air.

Who’s going to stay behind?

There’s only one horse- there’s four of us. If somehow one of us gets our horse back, we’ll be able to get out of here but until then… We’re stranded in Titan country without a means of escape.

“We have to talk about it,” Reiner says quietly.

“No,” I get to my feet and shake my head. “No. We don’t.”

“__________-”

I hold up a hand to stop him, “Don’t.” Turning to Jean, I gesture to his bag. “You have an emergency flare, yeah?”

Jean nods and gets it out, loading it into his gun. Shooting it into the sky, purple smoke trails up from our location.

It’s a long shot, but they might get the message.

“We can wait three more minutes,” Reiner says firmly. “During then, we’ll decide who’s gonna-”

“I’ll stay.” My head snaps to Armin. “Just get a message to the command section- to Commander Erwin, if you can.”

“I’m staying, too, then.”

“__________, no-” Reiner starts.

“I don’t want to hear it, Rei,” I mumble, “Please. I don’t… I don’t want to hear it but look. We’re both injured. Armin’s got a possible concussion and he’s bleeding. I’ve broken half a dozen ribs and I’ve got more bruises than I know what to do with. If anyone’s staying it’s-”

“Neither of you,” Jean laughs, “Someone’s coming this way with three horses.” The three of us look over to him as he shades his face from the sun. “I think it’s… It looks like… Christa!”

“Guys!” Christa’s dainty voice rings out as she approaches, “Are you okay?!”

I huff a laugh, “Define ‘okay’, blondie!”

“If __________’s still cracking jokes, she’s still alive, right?” Christa laughs, coming to a stop just in front of us. The three horses surrounding her skid to a stop.

Horse trots up to me, nudging me with his nose. “Hey there, Horse,” I mutter, pressing my head against his. “Ya miss me?”

“What happened to you guys?” Christa asks as she looks over me. “You look awful.”

“Aw, gee, thanks, blondie,” I giggle, “I feel awful.”

Christa’s soft face tightens slightly in concern. “...you’re sure you’ll be okay riding alone? Your horse… I dunno his name… but he seems to run alongside me pretty well- even without a harness.”

“Yeah, that’s him, alright,” I mumble, rubbing Horse’s nose. “But I think I’ll be alright.”

“...I’m with Christa,” Jean says warily, “You broke six ribs.”

“What?!” Christa screeches. “Six?! No, ma’am! You’re riding with me or with Jean! Six ribs- what were you thinking?!”

I shrug. “I’ve done worse.”

“Worse?!”

Oops. Shouldn’t have said that.

Christa sighs, pinching her eyes closed. “Fine. The past is the past. I can’t change it. But you- right now- are going to ride with Jean or me. Pick one.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I mumble with a smirk. “I’ll ride with you. Give the boys a little show, how ‘bout that?”

Christa turns a light shade of pink as Reiner helps me sit on top of Christa’s horse. “You behave,” Reiner mutters with a stern look.

But I can see it.

A little mischievous smirk plays his lips as he pulls away.

“Yes sir,” I coo, “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

The four of us start off towards the center. “What’s your horse’s name?” Christa asks. “He really seems to like you. Before, I couldn’t get him to hold still- then, when I said your name, he calmed down and followed us perfectly fine.”

“...I just call him Horse.”

“...oh…”

I sigh and turn around to watch as Horse gallops. Cream-colored coat hiding thick muscles that twitch and writhe. Dots- freckles- that spatter his coat. His black mane whips about in the wind.

“Freckles,” I say quietly.

“What?”

“Freckles. That’s his name.”

I groan, letting my head fall back as my legs swing off the tree branch. “Rei, we’ve been sitting here for hours and you haven’t said a word to me,” my lip juts out in a pout, “Please talk to me.”

Reiner grumbles under his breath. His arms cross over his chest as he sits on the farest end of the tree branch away from me.

“Baby,” I whine, “you aren’t still mad at me for-”

“Yes, I’m still mad at you for being a tease. And we’ve been out here an hour. Hour and a half, tops.”

“Tch,” I groan again, “Baby, it was just a joke. I didn’t mean to drop my ring.” I hold my hand out in the sun to look at my moonstone ring as it glistens. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“...you dropped it three times before we got up here.”

“I would never do anything to tease you.” Reiner raises an eyebrow and I roll my eyes. “On a mission.”

Rei’s shoulders lose some of their tension. “...you really didn’t mean to?”

“Of course not, baby,” I coo softly. “Not on a mission.”

Reiner sighs and rolls his eyes before getting to his feet. Wordlessly, he plops down beside me and lays his hand over mine on the branch. “You only call me ‘baby’ when you’re guilty,” he murmurs into the shell of my ear. “...so I forgive you.”

“Oh good, you caught on,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow.

“Easy, there, girl,” he huffs, “you’re still on thin ice.”

“You can’t stay mad at me,” I turn to face him and flash him a face-splitting smile. “I’m your darling.”

“...you’re right,” Rei laughs softly. “I could never.”

The two of us fall into a comfortable- buzzing with adrenaline but still comfortable- silence. I lean forward to look at the Titans gathered at the base of our tree, clawing and gripping the bark in an attempt to get to us. Hungrily, they salivate and stare up at us with glazed eyes.

The Female Titan. Why is she doing what she was? If she’s human, wouldn’t she want the walls to remain? They keep us safe for the time being. The outside world isn’t ready for us to break down our walls. And if she does want the walls gone, why?

And who is she?

“...are you listening?”

“Hm?” I ask, leaning back. “No, I’m sorry, I was just…,” my eyes flick down to the Titans, “...lost in thought.”

“I was just asking how your sides are.”

My fingers rub against my sides. They aren’t sore, they don’t hurt. I’ve always healed fast but knowing how long it’s supposed to take to heal sometimes, it’s… a little disconcerting. “I don’t feel anything.”

“...you’re better already?”

I shrug, “It could just be adrenaline. Or maybe they weren’t as badly broken as we thought they were. Bruising and breaks are really similar…”

Reiner hums in acknowledgment. “As long as you feel okay. When we get back, I’m still getting you checked out.”

“Yes sir.”

I lean over the side of the branch to see the Titans again. “It’s strange that we weren’t directed around the forest.” I comment quietly, leaning over more before my ODM wire locks into place.

“...Iyeah,” Reiner mutters, “Why wouldn’t we just go around?”

“I dunno,” I strain, slightly jiggling the wire a bit. “But do you think it was on purpose?”

“It’s Commander Erwin,” Rei chuckles, “Of course it was.”

“That’s true… I just… It’s so hard for us to see threats coming in,” I grip the wire and tug harder. “So why send them in?”

“Assuming he knows of the right flank casualties, we should’ve retreated a long time ago,” he mutters, “But we’re here and the center flank is somewhere in the trees.”

“Which is also weird, right?” I ask, yanking on the wire even harder. “I mean, if we are gonna go in, why not-”

The wire snaps out of the branch. The force of me pulling sends me over the edge of the branch. I watch as the wire extends rapidly- reeling me down towards the Titans’ grasps. Reiner runs to the end, reaching out to grab my hand.

But it’s too late.

A hand wraps around my body and pulls, unlatching my ODM wire from the tree. It starts to tighten as it turns me around to face it. My eyes lock onto it and I scream, thrashing around wildly. My arms are pinned in its hold- trapped against the steel of my ODM blade holsters and the clammy flesh wrapped around me.

Another Titan stares at me hungrily. As I look at it, red light starts to pour from its eyes like fog. Without warning, it lunges. I wince and duck away- waiting to be engulfed in moist darkness.

It doesn’t come. It’s replaced with an unearthly howl of pain and the sound of tearing flesh.

The grip around me falls away and as I’m spun in a free-fall, I catch glimpses of the scene above me. Red fog pours from the Titans’ eyes as they all latch onto the Titan that grabbed me. Bite by bite, they tear into the searing flesh of the Titan and devour the steaming chunks of bleeding meat.

They’re… eating it.

The red fog.

It was real.

My body stops, swinging up before I hit the forest floor. As we land on another branch, Reiner hugs me to his body tightly. “You scared the shit out of me,” he says raggedly. I feel tears drip onto my shoulder. But I don’t look at him- even as he pulls away, gripping my shoulders.

My eyes are focused on the fog swirling through the bodies of the Titans.

What the Hell is it?

Why does it keep following me?

Why does it keep saving me?

“...__________!”

I’m pulled back into my body- away from the grasping hands of the Titans that force muscles and tendons and organs down their throats. Blankly, I stare at Reiner. “What happened?” he asks quietly, looking over his shoulder at the Titans. “Are you-”

A scream rips out of my throat as I look down at my hands. My fingers start to rake through my skin, clawing for the source of the red fog.

Get it out.

Get. It. Out.

Reiner’s hands fumble with mine as they try to stop me from continuing the hurried slicing of my skin. “Darling, darling,” he says calmly as he grabs my wrists, “Darling, hey, look at me. Look at me.”

Wildly, my eyes fly around my surroundings.

Get it out. Red fog. Red fog. I have to get it out. I have to find it.

Red fog. I have to get it out.

Red fog.

“__________!” Reiner snaps, shaking me by my wrists, “Look at me!”

My gaze settles on him but I can feel myself twitching and writhing in place.

Red fog.

Get it out. I have to get it out.

“...you’re okay,” he mumurs, “You’re okay now, okay, darling? You’re safe.”

Tears burst from my eyes, leaking down my face as I roll my hands around from my wrists. Trembling violently, my body falls to the floor. Reiner catches me before I fall, scooping me up under my arms and holding me to him.

“There’s something... inside of me,” I strain, keeping down the screams wanting to claw their way out. My nails rake his back- threatening to rip through the fabric. “There is... something inside of me, Rei. I don’t know what it is. And I’m so scared, Rei. I just… I don’t… I don’t understand it. I… I don’t know... what it is. There’s… There’s something inside of me, Reiner, please! Please, Rei! Take it out! Get it out of me!”

WHEW

a doozy like i said. if you made it this far, i am so proud of you. my short attention span could literally never. as always thank you so much for reading and i hope to hear your thoughts and comments!

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Fifty-Five) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. PTSD. Depression. Mentions of a hostage situation, shooting, murder, suicide, physical trauma.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 10,588

Timeline: Season 8 Episodes 13. Right after part fifty-four.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

Before the front door was even closed, Hotch grabbed my waist, and he pulled me into a hug so tight I thought my lungs would collapse. To be fair, after a moment of being caught off guard, I started squeezing him back with every ounce of strength I had, too. It had been such a long, stressful day. We did everything we could have to help Reid, but it wasn’t enough. I had sat across from him in our house just that afternoon, promising him that Maeve would be alright. I told him that she was going to survive for him, and that he would get to hold her in his arms, just as Hotch and I were holding each other that night. But I lied. Maeve… She… Well, she wasn’t as lucky as I was. When I was taken, I practically knew how to get myself out of it because of my training, but Maeve had been waiting around for her knight in shining armor to come rescue her.

Watching Reid break down over Maeve’s body, refusing to even touch her because he didn’t get to hold her while she was still alive… I couldn’t help but think about the contrast between them and us. I remembered when Hotch found me, he broke down out of happiness and relief. He was so glad that I was safe, that I was alive, and that we were going to have a baby. We were lucky because he got to hold me in his arms again, kiss my lips as much as he wanted, to say “I love you” until his throat was sore. We got another chance together, whereas Reid and Maeve didn’t even have their first chance. It all felt unfair.

For some reason, I almost wished that I could trade places with them, just for a bit, so that they could be holding one another like Hotch and I were, so that they could kiss each other for the first time, so that they could look each other in the eyes and say “I love you”. Even though I didn’t want to lose Hotch in a million years, it almost felt like we had stolen some of the time that Reid and Maeve deserved— even though that wasn’t the case, realistically. It just felt like it should have been them standing there, relieved to be with each other. Spencer had been through so much. He deserved to be happy. He didn’t deserve this mess. He should have been able to hold Maeve…

Hotch’s arms constricted around me more and I sort of felt his knees buckle. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, breathing through his nose against my skin. I heard him sniffle lightly as a cold tear drop ran from his cheek and onto my neck.

“I’m here,” I cooed to him, pulling at the ends of his hair. “You’ll never lose me.”

That wasn’t guaranteed, though. For all I knew, I could have been lying to Hotch, too. Maybe someone would take me again, and they’d actually have the balls to end me. Maybe someone would take Hotch and I would be left to raise our family on our own… The thought made me want to throw up. I hadn’t put it in perspective like that. It was easy to think about dying— painful, but still easy. To think about losing Hotch randomly now, with our growing, happy family… My head started to spin, and I started to cry. I couldn’t lose him.

Hotch’s arms moved around me so that he could sweep me off my feet and cradle me close to his chest. I let him lift me off the ground, one of his arms sliding under my knees, his other one holding my back up. I kept my hold on his neck, letting him hug me as hard as he could as he slowly dropped to his knees.

We had all lost so much— Hotch more than anyone. But Reid had been through so many traumatic, unfair events. It all started with Tobias Hankle, and everything since then seemed like an attack on him, too. This… How was he supposed to recover from this? How were we supposed to help him?

That empty question kept me up all night. Hotch and I hardly even made it to the couch, still cuddled in each other’s arms, eternally grateful that we could be together. Nothing needed to be said. Nothing even needed to happen. We just sat in silence, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling the way our hearts beat in our chest, thinking about how things could have ended much differently in Hawai’i. All this time, we took each other for granted. We took our daughter for granted. If I hadn’t acted as quickly as I did when they took me on our honeymoon, and if Hotch hadn’t found me as soon as he did, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t have me—or neither of us would have our little ray of sunshine. We weren’t going to forget this. I don’t think anyone on the team was going to forget. Ever.

----

No one heard from Reid for about a week, and after an extremely tough case where everyone was still trying to reach out to him, I decided to head over there with Scarlet. I figured that he would be willing to see me if she was with me. After connecting the way we did during Maeve’s kidnapping, I thought that it was worth a shot. Maybe he would talk to me. If he wouldn’t reach out to his closest friends, like JJ and Garcia, maybe he would at least open up to someone who wasn’t as emotionally involved. It was easy to do that sometimes. Opening up to our loved ones was difficult because we never wanted to be judged or ridiculed by the people we knew best; but opening up to someone who was practically a stranger, like a therapist or someone on the internet, felt freeing. Since Reid and I had never been close, we hardly knew anything about each other. I’d said it before, but that was no one’s fault. It happened naturally. But now that he was suffering, and it was clear that he needed someone to talk to, I decided that I would at least try to be that shoulder he could cry on.

I adjusted Scarlet on my hip as I headed up the steps to Reid’s apartment. JJ had given me the address after I told her my idea, and she agreed that it didn’t hurt to try. When I reached the top of the steps, I stopped after noticing all of the gift baskets gathered in front of his door, all unbothered and unopened. I cocked a brow. That wasn’t right. Why were these all here, and why hadn’t Reid at least taken them inside once he knew no one was just outside, waiting to bother him? Was something wrong? Nothing felt wrong. But maybe that was why he hadn’t been in contact with any of us since Maeve’s death.

I stepped over the baskets to urgently knock on his door. “Reid, are you in there?” I leaned around Scar to get a look at the gift baskets, noticing the huge pink, cursive print that read: To Reid, From Garcia. I smiled lightly. Oh. I knocked again. “Reid, wellness check.” Nothing. “Sound off or I’m coming in.”

“Here,” I heard him respond weakly.

I let out a relieved sigh. “I brought Scarlet. Do you want to at least talk to her, if you won’t talk to anyone else?” I heard shuffling inside, the sound of a heavy piece of furniture being dragged around and books being kicked out of the way. And then the door opened. There was only enough space for Scarlet to fit through, so I caught the hint. “Okay.” I helped Scarlet down to the ground and held her tiny hands as she struggled to slowly waddle into his apartment. The door shut on my face the second Scarlet was inside. I scoffed. “I’ll be sitting out here, I guess.” I turned and slowly crouched onto the ground, groaning as I did so, catching myself before I could topple over after my foot hit one of the gift baskets Garcia left. I inspected it carefully. There was chocolate, containers of cherries and nuts, and stupid miniature figures from Doctor Who. I looked at Reid’s door while asking, “Hey, Reid, do you mind if I snack on some of this stuff?” I waited a moment for an answer, but nothing came, so I decided to just go for it. There was too much there for him to eat on his own, anyhow.

Halfway through a bag of Hershey Kisses, my phone started ringing. I leaned to the side so that I could grab it out of my back pocket while still chewing on the piece I had just popped into my mouth moments prior. Aaron Hotchner. I sighed as I answered the call. With a full mouth, I said, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered honestly, “I just wanted to check to see if you got through to Reid.”

I looked over my shoulder at the door to see that there still wasn’t any movement or noise. “Well… He opened the door and let Scarlet inside, but he kept me out.”

“He let Scarlet in?”

“They really connected the day Mae—” I stopped myself. “He’s always been fond of her, baby. You remember when she was born. He had just lost Emily, and hearing that we named our daughter after her… I think something just clicked for him.” I trapped the phone between my ear and my shoulder so that I could unwrap another piece of chocolate. “He’s so good with her, baby. You should have seen him that day.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

I shook my head somewhat, still keeping the phone trapped. “Not at all. I think he’s just lonely.”

“But the whole team—”

“I think he needs someone impartial, Aaron.”

He sighed on the other end. “You’re right.”

I smirked. “I know.”

“When do you think you’ll be home?”

“Whenever one of them gets too tired or fussy to keep hanging out with each other.”

“E.T.A?” he teased.

“Not available.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.” I could hear him pouring himself a drink in the background, probably a glass of bourbon since the case we had gotten back from last night was a doozy, and his reward was a few drinks here and there whenever we made it through one like that. “I’m worried about him. I don’t want him to leave the team.”

“I know… I don’t either. But it’s his choice, Aaron. If it were you in his shoes, what would you do?”

“You know what I did.”

“Yeah, but you had me there to pick up the pieces. I mean, now, if you were in his shoes today—”

“Stop,” he demanded quickly. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized sincerely. I reached to grab a gummy bear. Garcia had really outdone herself with all of these custom gift baskets that she clearly put together on her own. “It’s just been on my mind.”

“Mine, too.”

The steps just ahead of me started creaking, giving me a heads up that someone was coming. I looked up to see Morgan’s bald head slowly appear. I laughed to myself at the thought, watching as more and more of Morgan began revealing himself to me until he finally reached the top stop, at which point he looked over and spotted me. We both froze. A smile grew on his face, too. We both looked guilty when we realized that we had been caught coming to check on Reid, even though we knew that it was potentially futile.

“Baby, Morgan just got here. I’m going to have to call you back later.”

“Okay,” Hotch said, “call me when you’re on your way home.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up on Hotch, leaning to put my phone back into the pocket of my pants. As Morgan sighed and sat down next to me on the floor, I handed him a handful of chocolates. He silently thanked me. We both started snacking on the chocolates, crumbling up the small tin foil wrappers and piling them up between us. I rested my head on Morgan’s shoulder.

“He’ll only see Scarlet,” I whispered.

“Well, the kid’s always liked talking to kids,” Morgan whispered back. “He’s the only one who can get through to the child victims.”

“I know.”

“He would have made a great dad one day…” He threw a wrapper angrily at the wall opposite us.

I scrunched my brows together. “He can still—”

“Not after that.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

Morgan chuckled lightly. “You’ve always been an optimist.”

“And you’ve never been a pessimist. So, what gives?”

“Nothing.”

“And I refuse to believe that,” I teased.

Morgan looked down both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was around or eavesdropping. “You know how I’ve been teaching those Academy lessons on Saturdays?”

“Yeah, you make Prentiss go.”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded. “Has anyone told you which drill I make my cadets do the most?” I shook my head in response. “Home invasion where an entire family is being held hostage. One adult male, one adult female, one son, one baby. Care to guess why I do that one the most?”

My shoulders fell and my eyes softened. All this time, I had been so caught up in the fact that, as Jack and Scarlet's parents, it was mine and Hotch’s responsibility to take care of them and protect them. I never stopped to ask myself how Morgan and Prentiss possibly felt responsible, too. Morgan was the one who first took the initiative to befriend me when I joined the BAU, and we had been best friends since. We had always been protective of each other, but that came with the territory of being field partners, friends, and now he was the godfather of Scarlet. He probably felt an immense urge to protect us because we were his family. I couldn’t stand the idea of facing another Foyet incident, but Morgan was likely terrified of it happening, too, because he didn’t want to be the one to find us.

“There are nights where I can’t sleep,” he explained, “because I have nightmares about what could happen if something bad happens and I can’t save you. You were the first person I had ever met who understood what I went through as a kid, and you were the only other person I knew that was just as damn stubborn as I was to not admit it. You were the one who held me when I found out that Garcia had been shot. You were the one who made sure that I was okay in New York, even though you were the one we should have been worried about. I was the shoulder you cried on for months after Haley’s death because you didn’t want to worry Hotch or make him more upset than he already was. And then Hotch called to tell me that someone took you in Hawai’i, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I worried endlessly every day that you were gone. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t think about anything other than finding you because I wanted my best friend back. I wanted my partner back. I wanted my sister back. And when we found you, I was so relieved. It felt like I could finally breathe after holding my breath all my life because you were safe, you were in Hotch’s arms, and you were still fucking worried about me even though you shouldn’t have been. And then when Scarlet was born…” He choked on a light sob. ��And you asked if I would be her godfather, I made a promise to myself in that moment that I would never, ever let anything happen to you guys ever again. You and Hotch have been through too damn much, and I can’t risk losing my partner again. So that was why I slept on your couch almost every day when Hotch was gone. I didn’t want to get a call in the middle of the night, calling me to a crime scene that looks eerily similar to all the shit we see at work, only to find that it’s you, Jack, and Scarlet. I couldn’t bear the thought, so I stayed as close as I could. Then when Hotch came back, and I knew I couldn’t sleep on your couch forever, I had to start working towards being efficient as hell in a situation like this. I look at family annihilator crime scenes all the time, and— you’re right, all I see is you and your family. But I don’t let it wear me down or distract me. I let it encourage me to do better, to try to stop those guys before they can hurt anyone else. There are times, though, sugar, like what happened with Maeve, and I can’t help but feel pessimistic. We’re supposed to help people like Maeve. We’re supposed to help families like yours. Yet we seem to fail nearly every time—”

“We don’t fail.”

“We’re always too late,” he argued. “That’s failing.”

“You know… Every time I’ve almost lost Hotch, I thought I was going to die. I’d see him in pain, and I’d struggle to even breathe. Those people we help… At least we’re making a difference in their lives so that they don’t have to know what that feels like.”

Morgan shifted uncomfortably while reaching for a candy. “Hotch struggled when you went missing. I’ll never forget that.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t really understand what it was like. Hotch’s reaction to seeing you hurt was worse than how Reid reacted, and he didn’t even lose you entirely. Reid was capable of holding himself back, of biting his tongue and regressing into silence while Maeve was still missing. Hotch, on the other hand, had been lashing out. He was so angry, so upset, so lost without you. The only thing he could focus on was finding you, and even then, he needed someone to keep him on task the whole time. But he found you, and he was so relieved, and he was himself again. He won for once and we could all tell that he was so grateful. But Reid lost. He didn’t get to feel that relief. It’s going to take him a very long time to recover from that. A long, long time.”

The doorknob suddenly creaked, causing Morgan and I to both jump to our feet. We stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder, watching as the door opened ever so slightly. My attention was lowered when I saw Scarlet come waddling out of Reid’s apartment. I reached down and carefully picked her up, groaning as I did so and felt my back strain. Morgan watched me silently, taking notice of my struggle, something that he was likely going to point out to Hotch later before I could even get home. Great.

As I propped Scarlet on my hip, I looked back up at the door that was closing in our faces. I figured that would be it, he wouldn’t want us around any longer, so I turned on my heels like I was going to make my way out of the building, but Spencer’s door stopped just in time before it could close all the way, and I saw one of his eyes peek around the corner. Reid got a good look at me, but all we could see was his left eye and part of his cheek.

“Can we—” Reid paused to clear his throat after he noticed how quiet and high-pitched he sounded. “Can we do this again next week?”

I looked to the side at Morgan to see his reaction since I didn’t know what to say or do. I mean, of course I wanted to oblige, but his question had caught me off guard for multiple reasons. For starters, I didn’t expect Reid to say anything to us that day; and next, was he really going to be like this for another week? Was he going to be like this for months? Maybe he should have been talking to a therapist and not a baby.

Morgan shrugged, letting me know that it was my decision.

My eyes met Reid’s one eye as Scarlet tried climbing around in my arms. She was always so damn fussy, I swear. “I think we'd both like that,” I answered, referencing me and Scar.

Reid nodded to thank me for understanding.

“Hey, kid,” Morgan stepped into his view to catch his attention. “Are you okay?” Reid closed the door within an instant, shocking Morgan. “Well,” he scoffed, “okay, then…”

I shrugged at him, not knowing what to tell him, then we left, heading home together.

----

After that, we kept up with the ritual for a few weeks. Every Sunday, which was when Maeve would usually call Spencer, I took Scarlet over to his place. It was nice. They hung out, and I relaxed. He never asked me to come in, he never even talked to me. He would open the door for her, let her waddle in, then he would let her come back out whenever they got bored. It worked. She was always excited to go, and she was always wiped when we were leaving.

About a month into it, Spencer kept the door open after Scarlet went in. I finally got to see him. His fair was so long, so flat, not at all puffy and lively like it normally was. He had bags under eyes, just like Hotch. His apartment reeked, I could smell it from where I was standing, and it looked like a complete wreck. I pouted at him. He shyly asked if I could help him with something, to which I nodded and carefully stepped into his apartment.

All of Garcia’s gift baskets were empty and stacked on his kitchen counter. He had eaten through everything. Thankfully, he had eaten something, but as for showering or cleaning his apartment, I couldn’t praise him as much. There were books scattered everywhere, pages ripped out of a few here and there, spilled coffee on the table, clothes littered around. I knew he was depressed, but if I would have known that the rest of his life had fallen apart like that, I would have kicked down the door in order to help him and hold him.

Spencer kept his eyes lowered as he whispered, “Can you help me clean up?”

I nodded eagerly. “I’d love to.”

I sent him to his bedroom to go shower while I started with taking all of the trash out to the dumpster behind the building and cleaned up any spills around the place. Coffee, sodas, orange juice. It was like he knocked it over and didn’t have the energy to fix it. I knew that feeling. Then, when he came back from his shower, he and I started working on picking up all of the papers, organizing them, then collecting the books that he had angrily thrown around. He didn’t say anything. I could tell he was ashamed of his state of living, but it really wasn’t his fault, and I wished more than anything that he understood that. I was just glad he asked for help before it got any worse.

As I finished putting back the last book Spencer had thrown on the floor, I turned to see that he was sitting down on the floor and pulling Scarlet onto his lap. She giggled and poked at his face. Reid didn’t mind, though. He let her play with his curls before making a move to playfully bite at her finger. She laughed and snatched her hand away. He smiled back at her and started bouncing her on his knee to keep her laughing.

I tried biting back a smile as I sat across from them on the floor. I made sure to keep my distance because they were sharing a moment, and this was the first time I had seen Reid smile in so long, I didn’t want to take that away from them. He deserved to be happy. After everything that happened, he deserved to forget about the burdens of the world and just focus on playing with Scarlet. He was always so good with kids, too. That was why I offered that he hang out with Scarlet rather than talk to me or Morgan or someone else. With Henry and Jack, Reid always just seemed to… click with them. I looked at how he was playing with Scarlet, and I knew right then and there that he was going to be the best father one day. I wanted to tell him, but I knew that after Maeve, he wouldn’t want to hear anything about that kind of stuff. That was understandable.

He finally looked up at me and asked, “Do you know why Scarlet’s the only person I’ll talk to?”

I leaned back, stretching my arms behind me to keep myself propped up. “I have my suspicions.” But that was all I said because I wanted to wait for his answer.

It didn’t take a profiler to know that Spencer Reid was hurting, and he thought that he needed to suffer alone. He didn’t want to burden others with his troubles, and he certainly didn’t want to sit around while someone would lie to his face while telling him: “It’ll be alright” or “She’s in a better place now” or “You’ll stop hurting eventually” or some other bullshit like that. I knew that if I lost Hotch, I wouldn’t want to hear any of it. It wasn’t going to be alright, Maeve deserved to still be with him and not in some “better place”, and, honestly, he was never going to stop hurting. If she was really a soulmate—like I assumed she was—then he was never going to get over it. And I wasn’t going to sit there and lie to him. But I knew that he was scared of talking to anyone because he didn’t know who understood him like I did versus someone like Morgan who was willing to lie to him just to make themselves feel better.

“There are so many things that I wanted to say to Maeve, but couldn’t. And there are things now that I wish I could you guys, but I… I really don’t want people’s pity. I just wanted someone to talk to who would listen and not judge me. I want to be able to speak freely, to say the things I wanted to say to Maeve, to admit the things I want to say to the team, and… and I’ve found that talking to a baby is the best way to do that. You know, she’s still so young that she’ll sort of listen while she fusses in my arms, which helps distract me from wanting to cry all the time. And she doesn’t really know how to say anything except for ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ and ‘curls’.”

“Curls!” Scarlet cheered while leaping forward to reach for Reid’s hair.

He laughed and let her pull lightly on the strands of his long hair. “Like that.” When she started pulling too hard, he tickled her stomach to get her to let go. In a fit of laughter, Scarlet felt weak, collapsing in his arms while trying to fight him to make him stop. He gave up after a few more seconds. “I talk a lot about Maeve with Scarlet,” he admitted to me. “I talk about how much I miss her, and she listens. I’ve been telling her stories about our phone calls— her favorite one is the one where Maeve told me she loved me for the first time. It’s my favorite one, too. But, most of all, I’ve just been talking through my feelings with her, and it’s helped tremendously. Is that pathetic?”

“No,” I insisted quickly. “I’m glad that you’re at least getting the chance to talk to someone. It’s never good to bottle things up, Spencer, you know that. Talking to someone—even if it is just a baby—is a good first step towards healing. I’m proud of you.”

Scarlet started throwing a tantrum because she was getting tired and wanted to go home, so I let her fall into my arms while cradling her and cooing her to calm down. I wanted to stay with Reid more than anything… but duty called. The baby wanted home, and I had to give in. So, I stood, and Spencer saw me to the door. Though the hallway was just there, and I could tell that he was eager to be alone again, I turned to inspect him one more time, and I pushed his curls out of his face with my fingers. He let his eyes flutter shut.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer. Truly.”

His lip quivered as he tried to hold a sob back. Before I could see him crack, though, he practically shooed me out of his place and shut the door on my face. I sighed and looked at Scarlet. She was already asleep in my arms, sucking on her thumb while snoring. She was so like her dad.

When I got home, I found Jack passed out on the couch with his homework on the floor. Hotch was sitting with him on another cushion, reading the news on his phone. I leaned over the back of the couch and kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned his face to look at me before pressing a kiss directly against my lips. After we parted, he reached to take Scarlet from me. With my arms free, I stretched. He chuckled at me as I walked around the couch so that I could sit with him, stopping so that I could take a chance to kiss Jack and tuck him under a blanket, then I collapsed against Hotch.

“He let me in today,” I said. Hotch couldn’t believe it. “We cleaned up his place. I don’t think he’s okay, but he will be.” I nuzzled my head against his side.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” Hotch whispered.

I cocked a brow at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Out of everyone on the team, I didn’t want it to be him who had to go through what I went through.” He looked at me. “He’s so young… and he’s alone… He has no one to fall back on. He still doesn’t understand the world, and he doesn’t even understand himself. At least with Haley—” He stopped when Jack squirmed on the couch while yawning and rolling over. When we were sure that he was still asleep, Hotch continued. “At least with Haley, I had you, I had Jack… and I understood myself and the world enough to understand what was happening and why it was happening. But Spencer… He doesn’t have any of that. He’s like my family, Y/N, and I didn’t want it to be him… Anyone but him.”

I didn’t know what to say to any of that.

Hotch flung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side, then he kissed my forehead. I nuzzled against him. After spending the afternoon with Reid, I realized even more now just how lucky we were. I didn’t have to worry about missing Hotch. I didn’t have to kill myself over the fact that I wouldn’t get to hold him ever again because he was there, and he was holding me, and I was his, and we were watching our children sleep peacefully. Just to make sure it was all real, though, I grabbed Hotch’s free hand and kissed his knuckles.

“I love you,” he whispered against my hair.

“I love you more.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Don’t make me get all cliché on you, Agent Hotchner.”

As we chuckled again, we relaxed and snuggled against each other, but we didn’t fall asleep. We couldn’t. It was too hard to rest while knowing how easy it was to lose everything. It reminded me of how we were after Haley died. We were paralyzed, but at least we had each other to get through it, and we had Jack to encourage us to get better. Spencer had no one. Spencer didn’t have a loved one to lean on, he didn’t know how to open up to people, and he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions. It was going to destroy him.

------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc @Braty-angel

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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buckyskorpion · 4 years

Text

11 hours - part six

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: so i was gonna leave this on ANOTHER doozy cliff hanger but i genuinely thought i would get lynched so i decided to just leave it at a baby cliffhanger. a lot happened in this chapter and a lot of seeds have been planted for future chapters..... so lemme know what you think hehe. predictions?? angry letters?? pitchforks??? lemme know!! i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

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“You’re very calm for someone with a gun to their head.”

Honestly, you had been thinking the same thing. Sure, your stomach feels like a snake pit and your hands are sweating and you don’t think you’ve ever been more aware of your own heart beat, but other than that - you don’t understand why you aren’t panicking more. There are three men standing in front of you, one behind, all with guns. They’re wearing matching leather jackets with an octo-head patch on the sleeve, and they all look very scary. Briefly, you wonder if Bucky has a jacket like this, with a patch on to match his family. It’s an irrelevant detail you can’t help but fixate on right now.

Bucky. Hopefully listening on the other end of the phone you have tucked in your back pocket which your kidnappers haven’t been bothered to check yet, thankfully. You flex your wrists against the zip ties holding you to a chair and ask, “Where am I?”

“You should know,” your stalker turned kidnapper says with a condescending sneer. “You followed me here.”

“The Lerna?” you clarify, for the sake of hopefully someone on the other end of your mobile picking it up. You glance around at the old-style bar; chipped wood and beer stains, a rickety pool table one of your stalker’s friends is using as an arm rest. You curl your nose up at it - a little proudly, you note it has nothing on Sam’s bar.

“Do you recognise the place?” your stalker asks. That throws you. You want to ask what he means by that, why you would recognise this gross bar you’ve never stepped foot in, but you clench your teeth and school your face.

Once your dad sat you down in a chair much like this one, in his office at the house you grew up in. You were eleven, maybe, and you didn’t quite understand why he was tying your hands to the back with a necktie but you went along with it. He did this, sometimes - would orchestrate some strange lesson when his nightmares got really bad, his ghosts chasing him inside the house until he saw enemies in lampshades and kitchen cabinets. To keep you safe, he would say, and then he sat opposite you and asked what you would do if anyone ever put you in this position against your will.

“Kroshka, they will use anything against you,” he had said, and you see that now with the way these men are looking at you for any weakness. But you didn’t understand then, you were a kid thinking your dad was spiralling again, so he had cast around until he found a beer bottle on the coffee table. “See, like this. When the label is flat it’s fine, but as soon as one little corner lifts you can’t help it - you have to peel it all the way off. Don’t give them any corners, kroshka.”

You blink, once. The man in front of you scowls when you don’t answer, presses forward into your space in a show of intimidation. You try not to flinch, but that fear you were missing before is starting to set in real fast. What did he mean, do you recognise it? And why the hell are you so prepared for a situation like this, almost as if your dad has been training you for it since you could remember?

“Fine,” your stalker says, his breath fanning over you with how he��s leaning into your space. “Maybe you can answer something else, about your boyfriend.”

“Dunno who you’re talking about,” you say. It’s not a lie - technically, you hadn’t had the ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ chat with Bucky yet. This man is not appreciative of your loopholes. He grabs your hair and yanks your head back, pressing his glock into your neck. You shiver, both at the pain and the cold of the metal. Through gritted teeth and mild hyperventilation, you say, “As a matter of fact, I dunno who you are either. That’s kinda weird, dontcha think?”

You can practically hear Bucky in your head telling you to shut up, but he’s not here right now. No corners, just like your dad said. Doesn’t mean you can’t try and find some corners of your own.

What you meant as a question to buy some time, with a bit of attitude on the side, sends your stalker reeling back from you. He’s confused, eyebrows drawn down low and his friends behind him look to each other with the same expression. Now, you’re confused as well. Everyone in the room stands (or sits, in your particular predicament) in a pure state of what the fuck is going on. It would be funny, if there wasn’t still a gun to the back of your head.

“You don’t know the patch?” the man asks, gesturing to the sleeve of his jacket. When you don’t respond he continues, slowly, reiterating his question from before but as a statement, “You don’t recognise this place.”

You have zero idea what’s going on, but whatever you’ve said seems have thrown your kidnappers for a bit of a loop, so you decide to roll with it. You say, and hope to god the man standing behind you doesn’t shoot you for it, “I’m starting to think you’ve lost control of this situation, pal.”

From the corner of the room behind you, a familiar husky-toned red head says, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

Shots ring out, shattering the windows as one by one your stalker’s friends drop like dominos. Someone crouches behind you and cuts you lose with a knife, and you hear it clatter to the floor as they launch over the back of your chair feet first into your stalker. Natasha. The flash of her red hair over your shoulder as she sends him flying is unmistakable. You scramble from the chair, fumbling for the knife she dropped but your hand slides through something thick, wet. The man behind you with the gun lies dead, throat slit, his blood now all over your fingers. It mesmerises you in a sickening way, making your stomach turn and your vision go fuzzy.

You’d never seen a dead body before. Now they are all around you, the bar smelling like blood instead of beer and the sound of bullets pinging off glass the only noise other than Natasha grappling with your stalker. She’s so small compared to him but she has her thighs clenched around his throat and he gasps for breath, clawing at her legs. You watch, stunned, as he gets a grip on her and throws her off, sending her crashing into the wall with a groan.

She hits the floor and you see red - all you can think is that’s Bucky’s family and that man is walking towards her, his gun trained on her body as she tries to pull herself to her feet, so you stop thinking at all. You picture the back of your stalker's neck like the dartboard at Sam’s bar and you throw.

Bullseye. Just like your dad taught you.

The man drops, knife buried in his neck and haemorrhaging blood. He gurgles this awful, awful sound as he clutches at his throat, trying and failing to push the blood back in. Natasha looks from your still outstretched hand, trembling in place, to meet your gaze. You can’t begin to decipher her expression, nor do you want to. You feel like you’re going to throw up, or choke, or scream, or all three. The man you just stabbed in the neck groans in pain, eyes rolling, coughing blood from his mouth in thick clumps. You can’t feel your hands anymore.

The door bangs open and you flinch, stumbling back until you trip on the chair you had been tied to and fall to the floor in a crumple of limbs. It’s Bucky, eyes wild and larger than life with a rage you’ve never seen before. He has a huge sniper-rifle slung over his back as he strides into the bar, stepping right over the writhing body of your stalker.

“I’ll deal with you in a second, Rumlow,” he practically growls, kicking aside the man’s hand that tries to grab for him. You scramble to your feet, practically tripping over yourself to get to Bucky. Doesn’t it say something about you that you run towards the man responsible for the death all around you?

You crash into Bucky hard, the force of the impact knocking the breath right out of you and once it’s gone you can’t get it back. It feels like his arms encompass the entirety of you as he holds you so tight your feet leave the ground. His chest rumbles with words but you can’t hear him, your ears are ringing and your chest is tight because panic attack, you dumbass. You press your face into Bucky’s neck and hope that’s enough to escape the scene unfolding around you.

“Get her out of here, I’ll deal with this,” you hear Natasha say somewhere behind Bucky but you refuse to lift your head to see.

Bucky attempts to pull away from you to look at Natasha, you can feel him try and twist his head but the inarticulate whine that rips from your throat stills the both of you. It’s mildly embarrassing, the sound you’ve just made, but it’s out there now. Bucky shifts his grip so one big palm rubs soothing strokes up and down your spine and you feel yourself becoming boneless with every pass of his hand.

“I’m not fucking lettin’ him get away with this,” Bucky says, low, threatening - if you were this Rumlow guy bleeding out on the ground, you would be afraid.

“And he won’t,” Natasha says, and then like she has to remind Bucky of his own thoughts, “but you have other priorities right now. Get her out of here.”

You feel Bucky nod, his scratchy chin moving against the top of your head. He kisses your temple and holds the back of your skull with one big palm, pressing your face further into his neck. It means you don’t see the carnage of the bar when he moves to place an arm around your shoulder and steer you out the door, stumbling under his guidance on shaky, cotton-fuzzy legs. He’s hurrying you, but as gently as he can. Once you feel the bright burn of sunlight on your skin you pull back from Bucky’s neck, blinking in the now empty street and Bucky’s piercing gaze as he looks down at you.

“Are you with me?” he asks, his hand dropping from your skull to squeeze the side of your neck. You still feel like you’re sipping each breath through a straw but you nod. You can see in his eyes he needs you to be with him right now, to get out of here, so you try and blink away the fuzzies in the corners of your vision and focus on his face.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and christ, now is not the time for that stinging pressure behind your eyes you hate so much. You hope Bucky understands - sorry for not listening to him, sorry for getting you both into this mess, sorry for not being strong when he needs you to be.

Bucky shakes his head vehemently, tugs you in harsh and strong by the grip he has on your neck to press a bruising kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter close at the fierce way he holds you, presses emotion into your skin like the tattoos littering his skin - a brand of your own, in the middle of this eerily empty street with the blood of strange men on both your hands. The thought makes you shake, so you twist your fingers in the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt and breathe him in deep.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he says, then pulls away from you. He grabs one of your hands from out under his shirt and links your fingers, beginning to drag you down the street. Looking back over his shoulder, he says with a grimace, “We gotta go.”

He leads you to his bike, squeezed between a brick wall and a dumpster in a side alley a block away from The Lerna. It roars to life before you’ve properly swung yourself on the back, and you aren’t bothering with helmets this time as Bucky eases the bike out from it’s tight spot with unsettling ease. All you can do is hold on tight and close your eyes as Bucky leads you away, weaving through the city in nonsensical loops before you feel the air open up around you and the familiar sounds of Brooklyn.

Bucky takes you to Steve’s tattoo in Red Hook, the first time you’re been back there since that fateful run-in with Natasha. You’ve checked out completely by the time Bucky parks - he has to lift you off the back of the bike because your legs won’t work, and he all but carries you inside. Steve is quick to rid the shop of the two customers looking at designs out front as Bucky settles you on the couch by the tattoo beds. You sink into the faded red leather without feeling a thing. Distantly, you notice the kid who usually mans the tills looking at you like you’ve grown a second head, and you suppose you deserve that.

“Stevie, I think she’s in shock,” you hear Bucky say, and the childhood nickname makes you smile. You watch Bucky’s face crease up deep concern at the dreamy look on your face, so you suppose you should stop smiling like a crazy person. A giant blonde head swims into your view, just as concerned, and he drapes a blanket around your shoulders.

“Bucky,” you say, your eyebrows drawing down as you fumble for his hand. He squeezes your fingers and mumbles something to Steve who leaves you again, his voice mingling with the kid’s somewhere over Bucky’s shoulder but you can’t focus on that. All you can do is swim in the back of Bucky’s too-deep stare and say, “I killed him.”

“No, no,” he says, shifting closer between your thighs as he kneels on the floor in front of you. This would be funny to you in any other moment, something to tease him for as he takes both your hands in his and squeezes them together, silently imploring you to stay looking at him. He says, “That’s not on you, sweetheart, it ain’t. You didn’t kill him.”

You’re crying now, properly, which you suppose is a good sign because you don’t think people in shock can cry. You watch as something cracks in Bucky’s eyes as he watches you break apart, but you can’t stop now you’ve started. You say, “I did, I killed him. How do you do it? How do you just- I feel like my throat’s gonna close up. How do you live past this?”

Bucky’s face darkens, smoothing out to something stone cold and frightening. You don’t feel scared, though, as he leans into your space so close you almost feel cross-eyed trying to stay glued to the blue of his eyes. He searches your face for something and says, no room for argument, “You did not kill that bastard, you hear me?”

“But-“

“No,” he says, simply, and that’s that. “The only reason you were in that position is because of me, doll, so no. You didn’t kill him. It’s on me, and I live with that so you don’t have to. You got that? You don’t ever have to live with that.”

You don’t know how he makes you feel like he’s physically reached into your chest and pulled out your guilt through your throat, but he does. You can see it clenched tight in his fist, his eyes shuttering down dark as he shoves it between his own teeth to hold. It’s too soon for the feelings clawing at your ribcage but you feel them just the same, that cigarette burn he left on your heart aching so bad you could scream from it. You extract a hand from his to run down his cheek, along his jaw, cupping his face in your palm. He closes his eyes, shudders as though swallowing down the guilt for the both of you.

I love you for that, you think to the soft flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks. I’ll love you forever for that.

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

When Natasha returns to the shop, and Sam bundles in not long after that, the four bikers sit around Steve’s prematurely closed tattoo shop and have a family meeting. You can’t help but feel like the kid who’s stayed up past their bedtime to try and hang with the adults, the words flying over their head and sleep pulling at their eyelids but they fight to stay awake anyway. Bucky pulls your head into his lap as he sits on the couch beside you, so you lie there and let him stroke your hair while they discuss what happened over the past two hours.

Two hours, and that’s all it’s taken for your whole world to spin on it’s axis. You’d learnt to throw knives at tree trunks with your dad as a fun, albeit unconventional after-school activity. And now you’ve buried a knife in someone’s neck, you’ve been kidnapped and tied to a chair and watched Bucky gun down men from a rooftop with his sniper rifle. He pulled the trigger with the same fingers he’s carding through your hair now, nails scratching at your scalp in a way that makes your toes tingle. How is that at all ok?

“We’ve started a turf war with Hydra, now,” Sam is saying, sitting backwards on a chair facing Bucky and spreading his hands out in a placating gesture as Bucky bristles. “It was unavoidable, alright, I’m just saying.”

“Not necessarily,” Natasha says. “Rumlow has had a vendetta against Bucky for years. He could’ve been acting alone.”

“It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” Steve says thoughtfully. He is pressing an icepack to Natasha’s back, already bruising from where this Rumlow guy threw her into the wall. She’s lifting up her t-shirt and you can see a glimpse of a back piece standing out stark against her pale skin. Giant, feathered wings and a talon, a mosaic piece of what looks like a large hawk spanning the length of her spine.

“When Pierce finds out it was us that shot up his bar, though,” Sam says, making meaningful eyebrow movements to the group. They all nod thoughtfully and fall into silence.

None of these names make much sense to you - Hydra, Pierce, even Rumlow who you’ve gathered by now was your stalker. Was, because he’s dead now, and the thought turns your mouth dry and rusted. You shift in discomfort, drawing Bucky’s attention down to you as he gives you a concerned once over. He had done a thorough analysis for any injuries, even after you’d assured him you were fine, but you can tell he’s still unconvinced.

Unfortunately for you, all your wounds appear to be mental. They’re getting deeper by the second.

“I keep thinking,” you say to Bucky, “why was he so surprised I didn’t know where I was? Or who they were?”

“Hydra is our biggest rival,” Bucky says, and huffs a laugh at your crinkly brow so he clarifies, “They’re another gang, one we’ve had a lot of run-ins with. Rumlow especially. He wasn’t our biggest fan.”

“So he expected you to have told me about him, and Hydra,” you say, the name unfamiliar on your tongue. He nods, and you have to ask, “Why didn’t you?”

Bucky frowns at that. “I already told you - the more you know, the more dangerous it is.”

“And I already told you, no secrets,” you say, frowning just as deep. A beat passes and Bucky doesn’t budge, just glares down at you like he can physically bore his opinion into your brain and make it yours. Exasperated, you say, “Bucky, it didn’t matter anyway - the danger found me. Telling me things like that isn’t going to make a difference.”

“It would’ve if you’d listened to me and not done the stupid thing,” Bucky says, raising his eyebrows. He may have a point, but you aren’t going to back down that easily. Bucky knows you, he knows if you see a loose thread you’re going to pull it. The fact he thought you’d listen to him tell you what to do at all is laughable.

“This gang is your life,” you say, and you don’t bother to hide your frustration now, “They’re your family. I’m no safer not knowing what’s going on - I got stalked and kidnapped regardless. Clearly, it’s dangerous no matter what, so just tell me, Bucky. Whatever it is.”

Bucky stares at you for a long time. Steve, Natasha, Sam - they cease to exist in this room with you. Those first few weeks, when you refused to stay the night in Bucky’s bed and would only see him to fuck - you used to be scared of looking into those eyes for too long, for fear of getting lost. Now you dive head first, a part of you hoping you do get lost so you never have to find your way back out again.

Eventually, Bucky clenches his jaw tight and says, “You’re right.”

You blink, surprised. You hear Sam whisper to Steve, “did you record that?”, and honestly, you wanna ask the same thing. Except the way Bucky is look at you- dread curls thick and choking in your gut. You look up at Bucky and he seem so far away, out of reach even though you feel him all around you. He continues stroking your hair but it’s absentminded, his mind far away too.

You are drawn back to the tattoo shop by Sam saying, “I gotta say, Barnes, your girl is smart as hell. Keeping your phone on you and out-smarting Rumlow in a hostage situation? Pretty badass.”

Bucky smiles briefly down at you, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. You turn to Sam and say, “I got the impression out-smarting Rumlow isn’t really that hard.”

Everyone laughs at that, even Bucky, and it clears away some of the dread eating away at your stomach. But it’s still there, acidic and bubbling no matter what you do to smother it.

Eventually, they grow tired of talking in circles about Rumlow and Hydra and the possibility of the feds showing up (Bucky assures everyone the cops will find no rifling on the bullets and won’t be able to pin them to the crime scene, but Sam mutters heard that before and an argument erupts about some debacle in Bucharest so you tune out). Bucky takes you back to his apartment, tucked securely in his leather jacket in the best kind of shock blanket you could ever ask for.

For the first time, you noticed the tiny embroidered star on the sleeve of his jacket. You wonder if all Bucky’s friends have the same star on their jackets, because they’re not just friends, they’re a gang. One you feel suddenly, irrevocably intertwined with since they’re the only reason you aren’t sitting in a jail cell for murdering someone.

You feel jittery as you walk into Bucky’s apartment, almost nervous. It looks the same as this morning, the coffee cups you used for Steve and Bucky still in the sink and hoodie of his you’d worn last night draped over a chair. But everything is different, now. It’s all changed, there’s weird new shadows over everything long after Bucky turns on the light. You linger in the doorway to Bucky’s bedroom while he rummages around for sweats and jumpers, laying out a pair for you before he begins changing himself. He shucks off his t-shirt and you see his tattoo sleeve, the mottled scars hiding underneath, and your heart flies out of your throat before you can stop it.

“So do you guys have a fun, spooky name like Hydra or what?” you ask, closing your eyes with a grimace as soon as you ask the question. What are you, twelve? Bucky doesn’t answer and you’re too afraid to open your eyes too see the look on his face.

You’re startled when you feel him kiss your cheek, sensing his large frame towering over you and blocking out some of the soft bedroom light. You open your eyes to find him smiling down at you, laughing at you with his eyes as he says, “Not so spooky. Steve named us, he called us the Howling Commandos. The HC, for short.”

You crinkle your nose up at him and he flicks the tip with his ringed fingers. You say, “That’s very old-fashioned.”

“Nat teases him for it all the time,” he says, “She calls us her barbershop quartet.”

You smile, imagining Bucky in suspenders playing the accordion, and say, “Now that I like.”

The longer Bucky looks at you the more sober he becomes, mouth becoming pinched and jaw muscle ticking. He holds you soft by the biceps and walks you back until you hit the wall, still gentle, but bracketing you in now so all you can see is the weight of whatever complicated thing is running across Bucky’s face.

“You scared the fucking shit out of me today,” he says. He shifts, grips your jaw tight so his rings dig into your skin with none of the gentleness of before - he means this. “Never do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, twisting in his tight grip to press a kiss to his fingertips. He softens, allows you to pull him in flush against you by his waist, his bare skin so warm under your hands. “And, thank you. I don’t- I guess I’ve never had someone come save me before, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t thank me,” Bucky says, shaking his head. He kisses you, a rough press of chapped lips against yours and is gone again before you can react. Says, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Come back,” you say with a pout, and you have just enough time to see Bucky smirk down at you before he’s kissing you again. It’s just as fierce, almost painful, but the rough slide of it distracts from the burn in your chest and your racing thoughts like razorblades. You lick into his mouth, chasing away the ghosts nipping at your heels, and he presses you back into the wall with a thunk hard enough to leave a bruise on your tailbone tomorrow. You don’t care. It feels good to hurt in a way that’s physical.

The ease with which Bucky picks you up makes your head spin. It’s all you can do but pepper kisses along his stubbled jaw as he carries you to the bed, lips suddenly ripped from his skin as he dumps you on the covers. He is quick to follow, squashing you down with his tongue in your mouth before you can take another breath. This, you know. All the messy feelings and heartache and fearfearfear that beats in time with your heart, that maybe you’ll lose him or he’ll lose you and you came so close today, is unfamiliar to the both of you. But arching your back off the bed so he can take your shirt off, scrubbing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck as he peppers kisses across your tits with a trail of goosebumps left behind - this is how you know Bucky best.

He makes quick work of your clothes and you fumble with his jeans, laughing into his mouth as he bats your hand away to do it for you. Bucky bites your bottom lip in playful admonishment and you chase his mouth as he tries to pull away. He places one big palm on your clavicle and pushes down, holding you against the bed. He shakes his head at you with a smile.

“Stay,” he says like he would to a dog, grinning wide as you glare at him. But you do as you’re told as he leans over you to grab a condom with his left arm. Maybe you bend the rules a little to trail kisses up the bits of his outstretched forearm you can reach. Over a shadowy skull, the stem of a rose, what looks like military windings near the crook of his elbow and tiny handwritten letters that spell S N S. Sam Nat Steve, because Bucky might be a tough guy to most but he’s a giant sap deep down.

Bucky shudders at your touch, and it makes you wonder if the scarring under his tattoos is extra sensitive. Or maybe he is just sensitive to anyone touching him in such a vulnerable place. You flick your eyes up to watch him watch you, lip drawn between his teeth and a dent between his eyebrows you ache to soothe if he wasn’t still holding you down. You don’t stop, even though he looks physically pained with every brush of your lips against his skin. You trace the edges of another small wolf with your tongue, like the ones on his chestpiece, and watch as his eyes flutter closed when you get close to the paper-thin skin of his inner wrist.

That hits Bucky’s limit. Suddenly his hand on your chest slides up to your neck and he’s leaning over you, left arm braced by your head and his mouth swallowing yours. You groan against his lips at the rough drag of his hands down your sides, gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. He makes your brain go fuzzy, the only coherent thoughts being Bucky and touch me more. He seems to understand. His fingers find your clit, smoothing slow circles which spark embers in the pit of your stomach. Bucky’s mouth falls open as yours does, as if to breath in the whine he draws from you.

“Fuck, you always sound so good,” Bucky groans. He buries his face into the side of your neck, taking advantage of your thigh trapped between his legs to rut against you while he continues playing with your clit. Every time Bucky gets filthy with you it’s like the first time, shocking and almost embarrassing in the sexiest way possible. Heat floods your cheeks and makes you lightheaded, unable to stop the moan he draws from you. You’re rewarded by Bucky’s teeth in your neck, the sensitive spot just over your pulse point, and if you’re being honest you could come just from this.

Bucky’s cock growing harder against your thigh, as his hips shift in rhythm with the circles he draws on your clit, becomes too difficult to ignore. To gain his attention you twist and nip at the closest piece of skin you can find, Bucky’s ear, and he engulfs you in a kiss which steals the breath right out of you. You buck your hips, hoping to nonverbally convey the demand get in me right now, and Bucky doesn't need any more hints than that.

He fumbles with the condom for a second and you take the time to sit up on your elbows and look at him. Bucky is so beautiful, drawn in harsh lines and stark contrasts. Tan skin turned paler against the opaque black of his tattoos, colour swirling in-between and it should be jarring, but you think he just looks like art. Bitten red lips, startling blue eyes pinning you to the mattress as he catches you staring - such bright, primary colours because he is a statement piece, and one you could look at forever.

Bucky grins almost bashfully as you stare at him, leaning back over you to kiss you soft and sweet in a sharp juxtaposition to the rough tumble which got you here. Again, he sends your head spinning when the tender kiss is punctuated by the unexpected push of Bucky’s cock in your cunt. He bottoms out before you can blink, throwing your head back out of the kiss with an untamed groan - both pleasure and pain, in the good way. Bucky drags his teeth from your lips down your chin and neck, biting a mark into your collarbone to set the tone for the bruising pace he creates as he pounds into you.

He doesn’t do anything in halves, you think. You gaze up at him with an almost dopey smile while Bucky fucks the literal breath out of you. You lift your hips to meet him as he bottoms out with every thrust, watching in awe as his face creases up in ecstasy - it’s you who brings him there. He palms your tits like he can’t help himself, loses control in your pussy because you make him feel that good, and the thought makes you giddy. Drunk, almost, as you drag your nails down his chest and nearly come once again just from the moan you draw out of this brilliant, dangerous, gorgeous man.

“You take it so well, baby, fuck,” Bucky pants, eyebrows creasing as the pleasure gets almost painful in its build. You know the feeling. Bucky’s mouth is always your undoing, rolling your eyes back into your head and the sounds you’re making turning positively feral. He kisses you again, more a slam of mouths than anything finessed, and says, “Never gonna get over this, never gonna get over how good you feel.”

“Bucky, you gotta-“

“I gotta what, huh?” Bucky grins at the pleasure-addled panic he brings you too, not wanting to come too fast but also needing to let go before you actually explode. He knows exactly what he’s doing, balancing on one hand to thumb harshly at your clit as he says, “You want me to stop? I don’t think so, sweetheart, I think you wanna come on my cock just like this, wanna hear me tell you how good you are, how sweet you are for me all laid out like this-“

Everything whites out as you come, hard, all your muscles spasming like crazy with the orgasm that rips through you. Bucky’s voice is drowned out, but it doesn’t matter what he’s saying anymore, he’s made you feel like you’ll never catch your breath again. Bucky thunks his forehead against yours, collapsing on top of you as the fluttering clench of your cunt around his cock becomes too much. His thrusts turn sloppy, his breath hot and ragged across your face as you press lazy, barely-there kisses to his cheeks - all you can muster in your fucked-out haze.

Bucky comes with his eyes closed, eyelashes tangling with yours, and you cling to him with all four limbs as he shakes through his orgasm. The release was so needed for the both of you, the events of the last twenty-four hours frying your nerves to the point where it was either fight, cry, or fuck. It feels so good to have Bucky on top of you, inside you, all around you in every single sense and it warms your heart in a way you didn’t know was possible until now. Until Bucky.

Maybe that’s the afterglow talking, and you should stop. But you can’t help but press another kiss to Bucky’s cheek, and another, over his nose and across his still-closed eyelids until you reach his mouth and he can kiss you back just as soft. You hope he gets it. You hope he feels it too.

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

You go to see your dad, eventually. The chaos of yesterday kept you attached to Bucky’s hip - you showered together in the morning, and he allowed you to pretend it was just the water and not tears soaking your face. But he made you cuddle with him on the couch and fed you an omelette like you were incapable of feeding yourself, and maybe you were, because the reality of what happened in that shitty Manhattan bar was starting to eat away at your executive functions. It took all of your strength to convince Bucky you would be ok and that you’d come back to him as soon as you were done, but it was time to pull on a thread you’ve been ignoring for far too long.

It turns out, that paranoid over-questioning part of your brain doesn’t turn off even during a traumatic event. Your dad lets you in without a word, tugging you into a side hug as you both walk to the kitchen to make tea.

The house you grew up in has taken on a different light since the Lerna. The kitchen chairs aren’t the same, reminding you too much of ziptied wrists and a gun in your face. Why can you superimpose the memory of Rumlow holding you hostage to one you have of being eleven and tied to a chair by your father? You shouldn’t be able to do that.

He nudges your hip, jerking you out of your staring contest with the dining chairs, and offers you a mug of tea. You both sit at the table, either end, the fruit bowl a mediator between you. He looks tired, old, like he always has somehow in your memories from childhood. He’s still your dad, the same man who always been there because he’s all you’ve ever had. He loves you, you know does. Ya lyublyu tebya, luna. But he has always been the first to say your paranoid streak runs a mile deep, and once you find a thread-

Well. Everyone knows how that ends.

“Do you want to talk about it?” your dad asks, and it’s like he knows you aren’t here to ask for boy advice or moan about a case or your skyrocketing rent.

There’s a lot you want to talk about. Why did I learn to throw knives instead of joining the soccer team, like normal kids? Why did I learn how to survive an interrogation instead of going to sleepovers, like normal kids? Why did you train me to question everyone and everything in this world, but I’ve always blindly believed you? Like a normal kid would, you suppose, the only normal you’ve ever really gotten. Always believing your dad is the superhero of six-year-old dreams, someone who would never keep you in the dark.

“No,” you say, taking a sip of tea. It burns your tongue to numbness, but you can’t bring yourself to care. We had the secret language for only us - why did I never think you might have secrets from me as well? You grimace into your tea and say, “Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“Tayny budut presledovat tebya vechno, malysh,” he says. Secrets will haunt you forever, little one.

You don’t dare look up from your tea as you say, “Ya dumayu, ty by znal vse ob etom.” I guess you’d know all about that.

He gives you leftover curry in a carry bag when you leave. Kisses you on the cheek and lets you go, but you can feel him watching you the entire time it takes you to walk down the street and out of sight. As soon as you round the corner you retch into the nearest bush, a well-manicured rose which you silently apologise to as it gets covered in your bile.

This guilt isn’t something Bucky can save you from - it feels like it’s eating you alive. You had never, ever thought you would get to the point where you’d be leaving a bug stuck to the underside of your dad’s kitchen table, but you suppose you never thought you’d be stalked and kidnapped either. You wipe the your mouth with the back of your hand as your stomach finishes emptying itself of tea and betrayal, and try to tell yourself you won’t find anything, you're just being paranoid. But you know you will.

Maybe you always have, and that’s why you’ve been too scared to pull on the thread you’ve known has been dangling in the back of your mind since you were a kid. Just one secret you wanted to leave, one dark corner you didn’t want to shine a light into. That’s never been in your nature. You spit the foul, acidic taste from your mouth onto a poor, innocent rose bud and think with just as much bitterness as the bile coating your throat, that’s not who my dad raised me to be.

Part 7

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