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cantgetoutofmyheda · 4 years

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Omg can you write a one shot where Lexa is paid by her college peers to write love letters to their gfs/ppl they want to date. So Finn asks her to write for Clarke and it becomes a constant. Until one day clarke goes up to her and says I know its you

OKAY. So this has been sitting in my asks for like a year. There will be a few (but short-ish) parts to this. And before anyone asks, this is not based off of “The Half of It” ... but here ya go.

---

Letters

PART 1

It was Polis Record’s fault. Lexa’s atrocious week was definitely Polis Record’s fault. Had Titus not been a complete asshat of a manager and dicked the schedule around, Lexa certainly wouldn’t be having this predicament. Had Lexa’s hours not have been cut back, she wouldn’t be where she was. Had Lexa not known that her next paycheck would be half of what it normally was, she wouldn’t be writing a fake love letter to the devastatingly beautiful girl in her Astronomy class. Had Finn Collins not offered her cash to do so, she wouldn’t be writing this letter on his behalf, even though she was the one that’s had an earth-shattering crush on the recipient ever since their Freshmen orientation, four long years ago.

Let’s rewind.

“Titus, are you kidding me?” Lexa huffed at the bald-headed man who was scurrying around the break room like a headless chicken. “You did what?”

“Lexa, listen,” he tried to calm her down. “The schedule will be back to normal before you know it. I had to hire her. There wasn’t another way around it.”

She was mad. No. More than mad, “There was. But you just didn’t have the balls to tell your mistress’ best friend that you already had a full roster of people on your fucking schedule.”

“Can you keep it down!” He hissed. “This is temporary. I’m sorry. I couldn’t dock my cousin, okay? The schedule will even itself back out. You’ll be back to selling these shitty, scratched up vinyls in no time. Ride it out for two weeks, it won’t kill you.”

What he didn’t realize was that two weeks of half-pay because of shitty scheduling could actually kill her. He just didn’t realize that. There was the pressure of doing well in school, that was one thing. But there was also the pressure of doing well enough to keep her GPA high enough to keep her partial scholarship. And then the pressure of her shitty part-time job at the local record store to help make early payments to her student loans so she wouldn’t have to worry about crippling herself into debt once she figured out what to do with a fucking degree in Geology.

“Two weeks,” she warned him as she started to storm out. “This better be fixed in two weeks, Titus.”

Spoiler alert: Two weeks had come and gone, and Lexa was still screwed off of her work schedule.

“C’mon,” Finn pleaded at Lexa’s side. He had managed to weasel his way into the vestibule of Lexa’s apartment building. “I took that writing class with you last year. I know you’re good. I just need one letter. Typed. That’s it.”

She was already on the verge of a massive outburst after her conversation with Titus. The dickwad that he was, managed to screw her hours up for another week, even though he promised he wouldn’t, “This is not a good time, Finn. Seriously.”

“$200.” He stood tall in front of her. “$200 in cash right now, and all you need to do is type up a page of words that will have her vaguely interested in the person who wrote it, and that’s it. $200 right now. If you do this, then I’ll never bother you for anything again.” He scratched the back of his neck, “Listen, I just need a good way in. I can take the rest from there, okay?”

$200 was enough to cover a good portion of what she would be missing out on for the week. $200 was enough to get by. $200 was enough to get her mind to start churning.

“$300 and it’s a deal,” she tried to match his height. She straightened her back and broadened her shoulders as far as she could.

He laughed at the request, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“You’re the one that needs me,” she reminded me.

He let out a huff and pulled another Benjamin out of his leather wallet and clumped it with the other two. “Fine,” he shook his head as he handed her the wad of cash.

Lexa nodded as she took the money. She buried the pang of guilt she felt into her pocket, alongside the earnings she just made and was ready to make way up the two flights of stairs when she felt Finn grab her arm.

“Hey,” he called out. “Wait a sec. I started a letter already, but didn’t get very far. You can just go off of this,” he handed her a folded piece of paper.

She opened it and read it aloud, “Have you ever felt like you couldn’t breathe? Like the weight of everything you’ve been carrying has amounted to this one moment in your life? Like there’s this burden placed so heavy on your chest that has left your lungs struggling for any ounce of air?”

Finn nodded as the words poured out of Lexa’s mouth. He was more than proud of what he thought was eloquently poetic. Lexa’s look of confusion went missed by him as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Pretty good, right?”

“Finn,” she deadpanned. “It sounds like you just described having the fucking Spanish Flu. I’m not using this. You sound like a serial killer.”

“What?” he yelped. “It’s poetic!”

“It’s a terrifying beginning to what’s supposed to be a love letter,” she deadpanned again. She shook her head as she finally made her way to the flight of stairs, “Give me a few days, I’ll come up with what we need.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine. But you better make it good.”

She made it good. She made it really fucking good.

Clarke ran her fingertips over the paper as she scanned the words again. She had no idea who had left it for her—she walked into the lecture hall a few minutes early, as she normally did, and saw an envelope pinned to the corkboard with “Clarke” scribbled on it. She looked around, wanted to see if anyone in particular was looking in her direction. It was the usual suspects that always got to class a little bit early. Monty, the one who was always quiet in class but loudest at the neighborhood bar during happy hour. Echo, the girl who always sat in the back row and snoozed as soon as the professor opened her mouth. Finn, the boy who always found a way to have an uncalled for argument with the professor. Lexa, the one who was always in the front row and tended to herself.

Not a single one of them was paying her a piece of mind, so she let her eyes scan the letter one last time before the room filled up.

Clarke,

I was sitting on the lawn behind the library catching up on reading for a class last week. I was skimming through Voltaire’s words:

“Sensual pleasure passes and vanishes, but the friendship between us, the mutual confidence, the delight of the heart, the enchantment of the soul, these things do not perish and can never be destroyed.”

This particular passage struck a chord with me, and it was mostly because when I looked up after reading it, I immediately saw you consoling who I’d assume to be a friend of yours. I’m not sure what had happened, but she looked like she was crying and you showed up with a blanket to sit on, a bowl of fresh fruit, and sat with her and listened intently while she spoke. It was life imitating art, right before my eyes.

Voltaire’s writing is mostly straight and to the point. It isn’t hard to decipher the messages he often tries to relay, but it was most certainly a breath of fresh air to finish that passage to find a parallel to present day. Your actions on that lawn helped me see things a little clearer.

I suppose I just wanted to thank you for that. SO, thank you for being the catalyst for making something in my brain click.

Before I close this letter off, I do have a question for you. And if you feel so inclined to indulge and answer it, you can drop it back into the envelope where you found this one and pin it back to the board.

Has anything happened to you recently that struck a chord? Something that stood out to you, but you haven’t had a chance to dive deeper into it? I’d like to know.

Enjoy your week, Clarke.

Upon tucking the printed note under her laptop, she took another look around the hall, which was now practically full. She moved her computer to the side and pulled a notepad out of her bag. The professor had started her lecture, but Clarke’s mind wandered from the images pulled up on the projector from the Spritzer space telescope as her pen started to move across the page.

Hello,

I believe you’re at an unfair advantage here. You know my name. You know what I look like. Yet I have absolutely no idea who you are. So if you write back to this, I’m hoping you’ll share some insight on the person behind the pen (or keyboard, in your instance).

I’m happy that the interaction you saw helped bring better insight into what you were working on. Coincidentally, the friend that I was with when you saw me is also reading a Voltaire piece for an assignment. I wonder if you’re in the same class?

She’s taking “Romance Studies” as an elective. I tried to convince her that there was no point harping on what was considered to be “romantic” through archaic literary pieces that are now long gone, and replaced with mediocre-at-best Netflix series about teenage love.

It always seemed that with the way things were going in our lifetime… that all “romance” really was, was when two people swiped right on Tinder.

With that said… I guess I can honestly say that your letter is what struck a chord with me. Especially after freshly coming out of that conversation with my friend.

I don’t want to be presumptuous. But it seems that this gesture of yours, whether it was meant to be platonic, or if it was meant to imply a sense of something more, is making me realize that maybe—just maybe—the practice of sharing words on a page isn’t so archaic after all.

-Clarke

She was happy with the end result of what was hurriedly committed to the page. Clarke quickly tore it from her notebook and tucked the loose piece of paper back into the envelope. She scanned her fellow students to see if anyone was watching her. She slunk further into her seat and wondered if the recipient was there, sitting in that very room. Unfortunately for her, the lecture that was being given on the Nebular Theory kept the attention of every other person in the hall, so she quickly reached for her computer to start typing notes on the theory’s premise of how every planet in the system was formed.

A tedious hour later, her fellow classmates started packing up and rushed towards the exit door. Clarke took her time shutting her computer down and tucking things away into her bag. She was suddenly aware that the person who wrote to her—the person she now wrote to—could be in the room watching her to see if she had a written response back.

She waited a few more minutes, and finally deemed it safe when the last few people in the room seemed to be chatting with one another or finishing up straightening their notes from the lecture. With a big exhale, she pinned the envelope back onto the board and made a swift exit.

Lexa felt a tap to her shoulder, which caused her to look up, “What do you want?”

“I think it worked. She put the envelope back!” the excitement in Finn’s face didn’t go unnoticed.

“Okay,” Lexa lowered her head to finish writing out her notes from the class. “Job’s done.”

“I’m gonna go get it so we can read it and figure out what to do next,” he giddily let out before darting out of Lexa’s peripheral.

She let out a sigh of distaste when he came back half a minute later and pulled a chair close to where she was sitting. “Finn, you said one letter. I did it. This is on you now. And if you don’t mind, I need to finish up here,” she raised her hand, showing she was still trying to get some of her notes done.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he propped his feet onto the table in front of them while he silently read Clarke’s reply. “Hmm, Voltaire?”

The author’s name caught Lexa’s attention. She suddenly looked up to where he was sitting, “What about him?”

“I don’t know. Clarke said something about him. That’s the bad dude from Harry Potter, right?” Finn brought his attention back to the letter. “What did our letter even say? You never even showed me.”

He handed Lexa the notebook page with loopy and wide writing on it. The edges were jagged, as if Clarke did the whole thing in haste.

“What do you want me to do with that?” Lexa eyed the piece of paper.

“Read it and let me know if you think she likes me,” Finn shrugged. “But also, why didn’t you put my number or something on it?”

“Because it’ll probably take more than one letter for her to even be open to the idea of you,” Lexa chided in her reply. She let her eyes quickly scan the girlish handwriting and folded the paper back up. “She’s definitely intrigued.”

Finn finally set his feet on the floor as he leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, “Okay, great! So what do we do now?”

“We,” Lexa pointed her pen between the two of them. “Do nothing. You can write another letter and see if she wants anything to do with you, Finn.”

“C’mon,” he nudged her shoulder. “I’ll pay ya for another one. Another $300. But we need an exit plan for when we move this from letters to texting or something.”

“Her reply literally just said that we’ve opened the idea to her that letters are romantic,” Lexa shook her head. “Your take on that was to immediately turn this to a texting conversation?”

He grabbed the letter from Lexa, “What? Where’d she said that? It doesn’t say that, Lexa.” He scratched his head.

Lexa let out a defeated sigh, “Finn. She literally said something like, ‘maybe the practice of sharing words on a page isn’t so archaic’ or something. Did we not just read the same piece of paper?”

“See, Lexa,” he smiled as he patted her shoulder. “This is why I need you. Just one or two more. Same price per letter. I just need a little more help and then I’ll be outta your hair. Promise.”

She took her palm to her forehead and rubbed her thumb into her temple. One more wouldn’t hurt. Mostly because the $300 definitely wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine,” she finally let out. “One more. Give me her letter back. I’ll have our reply ready for this same class next week.”

“Excellent,” he grinned as he handed the piece of paper over to her. “You’re a lifesaver, Lexa.”

She felt anything but that. But at least it meant she’d be able to get by for the next week or two, while Titus still screwed around with her hours at the record store.

#clexa #clexa au #clexa modern au #clexa prompt #prompt #my fic

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

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ᴍᴏʟᴛᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴇ | 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶!! Hitmen AU! [Kuroo x F!Reader] ɴꜱꜰᴡ

Just a short little drabble with sly boi Kuroo~ ^^

I’m warning you all now, this is-- uhm very very nsfw SKSKSK Idk what my mind was thinking when I wrote this but uh--- yEaH

TW; Choking, Manhandling, Possessive Behavior

» » Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««

You couldn’t remember the last time you were left in rather...provocative situation. Normally, whenever Kenma would assign you missions, they were quick and easy. Nothing like the one you currently faced. How you found yourself teamed up with your boss, you probably would never find out. Yet here you are.

It was supposed to be a simple ‘meeting’ with a client who had not only failed to pay off the debt they owed for purchasing your teams services, but was actively trying to run and hide from the prying golden eyes of your boss. And honestly, you couldn’t blame them.

Despite being a rather lax and understanding boss, Kuroo showed none of those traits when he was on the field. The movements he made, the words he spoke, and the condescending look in his eyes made anyone freeze if they were placed before the terrifying man. The look of a predator.

“Look, I know you’re rather stupid. What, with running your 2 ‘successful’ businesses and what not. But you’re quite bold in thinking that I wouldn’t see this coming~.”

A sinister smirk then stretched across the taller man’s face as he kicked the client from the chair down to the floor. A heavy leather boot immediately being pressed into the frightened individual’s chest as your boss leaned forward.

“And...to think, you’d try to convince one of my teammates to join your pathetic workplace? It’s honestly laughable.”

You froze. It never occurred to you that Kuroo had actually heard the conversation between the client and you. Granted this was a conversation from a previous warning visit. But to hear the harsh and possessive tone laced in his voice sent chills down your spine as you couldn’t help but become a bit flustered at the boss’s attitude.

Why was he so worked up anyway? As far as you were aware, the others that you worked with had faced similar situations as you. So...why exactly did he have to say something like that?

Deciding to ignore the way your stomach flipped at the sight of your boss, you went to put a hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm him down. After all, you both still needed to get the money. If not that, then information as to where you and your team could inquire to next about the fees accumulated from this client.

“Boss. Ease up a bit,”

You began, hoping to divert the irritated male’s attention onto you. Though when it looked like it was going to work, the man pinned on the ground just had to speak.

“Glad to see that besides having a nice body, she has an actual brain---”

The words died on the man’s lips as Kuroo added more pressure. His eyes set ablaze as an almost animistic growl escaped his throat.

“Shut the fuck up.”

An uneasy feeling came over you as you pulled back from the other. A look of wariness crossing your features as Kuroo refused to even spare you a glance. The man beneath him seemed to be suffocating from the pressure of Kuroo’s weight and his piercing stare.

“...Step outside (y/n). I’ll be with you in a moment.”

A promise of a lecture most likely, was the first thought that came to your mind as you gave him a nod before venturing outside. If only it was actually a lecture you’d be receiving. Though of course you couldn’t predict the future. All you could do at the moment, was wish that it would be over soon and you wouldn’t be assigned on another mission with the panther like man.

»»————-　ᴛɪᴍᴇ ♔ ꜱᴋɪᴘ　————-««

An irritated sigh, and a quick glance to your watch as you watched another hour of your life go by with you just staring at the discolored and poster ridden wall before you. As far as you were aware, any sort of warning meetings with Kuroo ended within the hour and the money would’ve been retrieved with a call for a clean up crew to be on the way.

Though why was it taking longer than usual? Before you could even begin to theorize what was going on, the door opened and out stepped the man in question. An oddly calm look on his face as he fixed his leather gloves briefly.

“Did you get the---” Before you could even finish your sentence, you were slammed against the wall. A cry of pain escaping you as you tightly closed your eyes. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you tried to understand the situation before you. Though it was hard to concentrate with the ringing in your head and the sudden breathlessness you felt. Were...were you being choked?

“How many times?”

The words came out fuzzy to you as you let out a breathless, “Wha---?”

“How many times did that piece of shit speak to you like that?!”

Confused, you could only weakly grasp at his arm as you blearily looked up at him. Though again you fell breathless as his eyes seared straight into your soul. Practically burning his mark on it as he kept you pinned to the wall.

“I-I...B-Boss... K-Kuroo, I can’t---!”

Your adrenaline was kicking in, your heart hammering against your chest as you felt the coil in your gut tighten as you cursed yourself. This wasn’t the situation to be getting turned on! Yes, your boss looked incredibly hot right now, but you literally were going to die if he couldn’t control his emotions!

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he let go. Watching your chest heave as you gulped down lungfuls of air. A strange high coming off of you as you shakily met his gaze. His own boring straight into you as he seemed to still want his answer from you.

Once regaining a sense of clarity, you collected your thoughts as you finally spoke. A slight rasp to your voice as you internally winced at how your voice sounded.

“He...it was every time I visited...sir.”

A sharp click of his tongue and a string of curses came under his breath as he closed his eyes briefly. You stood there, awkwardly waiting as you tried to quell the shake in your legs from the near death experience before you were jolted out of your thoughts when a large hand clamped down onto your wrist. The hold unrelenting as you were suddenly tugged down the alleyway.

“B-Boss?”

Utterly confused, you could only follow him blindly as he didn’t speak the rest of the way towards the now undisclosed location. Within moments, you found yourself in front of a an apartment door. The area where it was being much more higher class than the previous location you had been. Though, before you could even question where you both were the taller male unlocked the door and tugged you in.

Putting two and two together, you realized you were in Kuroo’s apartment. Startled by this, you went to ask him why he brought you here. Instead, you were pinned to his door as his lips were suddenly on yours.

A messy and dominant aura coming from the male as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Taking advantage of your shocked state to get a much needed fix of your taste before he slowly pulled back.

“You have no idea how much it pisses me off to hear the girl I fucking love is getting treated like some ditsy whore.”

The words punched into your chest as your cheeks flushed at the words your boss said. He...loves you? Of course you had a crush on him. You were sure any of the rookies who joined the Nekoma team could agree on having a crush on the mischievous leader.

Though for you in particular, you grew to have more of a crush on the taller male after witnessing his personality and his mannerisms towards children and those in need. It warmed your heart that besides being a cruel and unrelenting figure in the dark world you both lived in, he still had a kind heart.

Before you could even think, you took this chance into your own hands as you suddenly grabbed at his jacket. A sharp tug and your lips meshed with his in a messy, yet fiery dance. His hands found their way around your waist before suddenly lifting you up into his arms as you let out a startled gasp.

Once again, taking this little change in your actions, he let his tongue dive into your mouth. Exploring and savoring the addicting taste that was you. You let out a soft groan at his play as you were overwhelmed by him. His scent, his touch, his voice. Everything about him had your body reacting in ways you didn’t think were possible.

The next thing you knew, he was pressing kisses against your neck, his hands roughly holding you up by your thighs as he gave them a nice squeeze. Then suddenly, you were thrown onto his bed. Soft black sheets enveloped your form as you looked up at your boss. A breathless look on your face as you watched with wide eyes as he began to slowly strip. A sort of show as his piercing gold eyes never left your wide (e/c).

“K-Kuro--”

“Tetsuro.”

His lust filled voice cut you off as he threw his button down haphazardly onto the floor before crawling towards you. That predatory look in his eyes once again returning as he took in your form beneath him. It was mesmerizing. The way your hair fell against your skin and his sheets. The flushed look that covered your cheeks. The way your eyes held his own in a never ending game of cat and mouse.

“....Tetsuro...”

You tested the name, your lips playing with the syllables as he let out a groan. The way you said his name sending heat straight down to his already strained pants as you slowly brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. Your fingers toying with his hair as you suddenly dropped a sultry gaze to him.

“I want you to wreck me...make me yours. Prove to me that what you said wasn’t a lie...”

And almost as if a switch was turned on, the man above you ravaged you almost immediately. He dove for your neck, already making claim to the soft skin and leaving his marks wherever accessible. his hands began to claw at your clothes. Roughly tugging and desperately peeling the layers away to touch your skin. To get a feel for you.

The gasps and moans that escaped your reddened and swollen lips only urged him to explore more of you as your clothes were tossed into a pile on his bedroom floor. Mingling with his own abandoned ones as he continued kissing lower and lower until he was at your dripping entrance. A seductive grin formed on his face as he grabbed your thighs. The feel of his calloused hands sending another wave of heat into you as you grasped at the sheets beneath you.

“F-Fuck TetsuRO!”

A sharp cry came from you as your eyes widened in utter surprise as your boss began to suck and bite at the sensitive and supple skin of your inner thighs. Already you could feel your eyes water at the stimulation as you trembled underneath his hold.

“Stay still kitten...”

A purr came from the male as his warm breath fanned against your dripping folds. A taunting smirk on his lips as he forced your thighs apart, and the next thing you knew you were crying and begging for release as his tongue delved deep into you. Taunting and teasing every little nook and cranny that he could reach.

Your noises only fueling him further as he kept you from grinding your hips down against his face as you pleaded for him to stop teasing and to give you that sweet release. Of course that never came as he continued to absolutely decimate you with his tongue. The sweet little spots you had hidden away being prodded and teased at as he relished in your desperate sounds.

And just when you thought you were about to cum, the ever mischievous male pulled back as you let out a sob of frustration. Your flustered and tear stained face only further prompted him to lean forward and capture your lips into another kiss as you let out a small moan as you tasted not only him but yourself on his tongue.

The action making you even more embarrassed before you finally decided to take matters into your own hands. If this was the game your boss decided to play. Then so be it. You weren’t going to be the only one to suffer tonight.

Without warning, you pulled him in closer, stealing every breath he took as he let out a low and throaty moan at your sudden boldness. Though the sounds escalated the moment you flipped him onto his back. A victorious grin now on your face as he looked up at you with surprise in those golden irises.

“I’m not the only one being teased tonight, tiger...”

A seductive smirk graced your features as you fumbled with his pants briefly. His cock straining desperately against the cloth of his boxers before you pulled both layers loose. The pair being lost in the pile of forgotten clothes on the floor as you leaned over to his nightstand. A teasing wink being sent his way as you grabbed one of the condoms he had stashed away. With practiced ease, you slipped the condom on before you positioned yourself over his weeping cock. His face suddenly becoming flustered, as he attempted to stop you before you slowly worked his tip against your aching folds. A desperate moan coming from the both of you as you struggled to keep him from bucking up and stretching you too quickly.

Thankfully, you managed to keep his grinding hips down as he let out a breathless string of curses as you continued to ease and work your way onto him. Though the more you did the more shaky and hazy your eyes became as you couldn’t help but let out a wanton moan at how he filled you up. Your walls clenching around him tightly as he let out a sharp curse and a strong buck of his hips.

The action catching you off guard as you squealed. Your hands pressing against his lower abdomen to steady yourself as you gave him a sharp glare. Amused, he let out a breathy chuckle before letting our another colorful string of curses and moans as you began to move. Your body taking the reigns as you began to ride the man beneath you until he was a desperate moaning mess.

Though just as you thought he was about to break, his hands shot towards your own hips as he began to match with your speed. Your flushed cheeks turning even darker as his gaze became practically liquid gold as he watching you bounce on his cock. The both of you nearing your limits as both gold and (e/c) meshed, drowning one another in each other’s hypnotic stares before you both came with a loud moan.

Suddenly you fell forward, collapsing against the sweaty male beneath you as the musk of sex and sweat filled the room. Groaning, you let your eyes slowly flutter closed as Tetsuro pulled out of you. Giving himself a moment to catch his breath before he turned, lazily wrapping an arm around you as he carefully tugged the messy sheet off and onto the floor before wrapping the both of you in the blanket. His molten stare now basking over your sleeping features as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before he too succumbed to the exhaustion.

A soft whisper danced into your ear before the both of you finally fell asleep though, and it brought a subconscious smile to you as darkness brought you into it’s soothing embrace.

“...I love you (y/n)...”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #kuroo x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagine #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsuro x reader #tetsuro #aged up kuroo #hitmen!kuro #haikyuu au #hitmen au #tw; choking #holy shit what is wrong with me #too fucking spicy man #so much zest

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hanadolphieron · 3 years

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WE HIT 200 EVERYBODY!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!! I LOVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!!!

and you guys know what i promised whenever i reached this milestone...

MY EIGHTH GRADE STORY ABOUT A MONGOOSE!

it’s not 2.6k words what are you talking about

@sarahbkwl i know you’ll love this and @kaepopsicle i think you will too <3

The Demonic Mongoose of the Wild West

Bert the Bird, the demonic mongoose of the Wild West, roamed through the underbrush, searching for ants to eat. A tumbleweed ran across the bland terrain, hit Bert up the side of the head, and sent him flying. After a few long seconds, Bert slapped the ground with a resounding squeal. A big thwack echoed across the desert. A frog ribbeted. Bert sneezed.

Unfazed, Bert continued his search for ants. He sniffled and snuffled along the ground, dancing to a nonexistent tune. His overly small paws bounced in rhythm, doing kicks so high they would give the Rockettes a run for their money. A few stumbles added variety to the dance. Completely calculated, I assure you.

After a while, Bert forgot what he was doing and decided to head into town. The ants were spared another day. The saloon was not. Bert the Bird threw his whole body weight into the doors of the tavern, a meager attempt at forcing them open. The doors unsurprisingly didn’t budge, as the demonic mongoose only weighs half a gallon. Luckily, a cowboy-hatted, blue-jeaned, spur-wearing, collared-shirted and dusty faced yeehaw man came strutting through the doors.

Bert the Bird took his chance and scrambled after the male yeehaw. He stopped, waiting for the perfect time to reveal his identity. Everyone in the saloon was peacefully (except for the two hoodlums brawling in the corner) engulfing liquid bread.

Letting out an astounding yowl, Bert the Bird silenced the room. Heads turned, watching as Bert stood there, threatening them with his not-so-mere existence.

“Is it really him?”

“Don’t shoot- I got two kids!”

“Big Ol’ Bert Bird!”

“It’s the demonic mongoose!”

Whispers, gasps, yells, and one nervous bark filled the room. The mongoose smirked to himself.

Bert mobilized. Moving south, the mongoose headed towards the snake in the corner. His reptilian lawyer, who was currently playing cards with a yeehaw female, hissed in greeting.

Bert squeaked out a snarl. The room gasped as he continued advancing towards the vertebrate.

“Where are your federal income taxes, Bert?” the snake wheezed (she’s old.)

“Don’t have job,” Bert replies, edging closer.

“Oh yes you do, you’re tasked with eliminating my kin, aren’t you?”

“Huh.”

Desktop App (the snake) sighs. Bert remains confused at the word choice beyond his vocabulary (he barely managed to graduate Childhood.)

“You,” she motioned to Bert, “Fight,” she imitated punching using her tail, “Snake,” she slithers.

“No.”

“Bert, fighting snakes is your entire livelihood, you can’t deny it.”

“No!” yells Bert, as he jumps in for the kill, attacking Desktop App’s neck. He misses and consumes a mouthful of table leg.

Desktop App lunges for Bert but doesn’t manage to take a chunk out of his arm as intended.

Instead, she falls to the floor as Bert stumbles out of the way on accident after his head h hit the table and he careened into the floorboards, away from Desktop App.

Hissing, the reptile flops back around to face the mongoose, but Bert is already gone. He has seemingly vanished, but if you had looked closer, you would have seen a small, fluffy tail disappearing around the corner.

Panting, Bert bounds across the rough terrain. His stubby legs aren’t used to moving at such accelerated speeds, and collapse after a few minutes. However, he’s far enough away from the town that he can’t see the outline of it. Belly heaving on the floor, limbs splayed out around him, head resting on the ground- Bert takes a cat nap.

He wakes up three hours later. Squeaking and jumping up, Bert continues to run. He has no idea what he’s doing or what he’s escaping, but he vaguely remembers that something dangerous was about to happen. To let loose his panic, the poor mongoose screams repetitively.

The surrounding life forms are irritated by such disturbance and one decides to stop him.

Eduardo, The Valiant Frog of the Wild West, stands in front of Bert as the mongoose propels towards him. Bert shows no sign of stopping, because when he sees an obstacle, he gets scared, and his first reaction is to run, which involves speeding towards the obstacle at Mongoose Mach I.

However, Eduardo stands his ground. Suddenly, Bert stops, sniffing the air. Frog. Leaning closer, he gets close to Eduardo. “Frog,” he says.

Eduardo stares. “Is that all you have to say, young mammal?”

Bert The Bird says nothing.

“I have heard you are seeking sanctuary from the snakes. You will find none until you banish them all from these lands. Otherwise, they will always be lurking, slithering under your feet, watching you.”

Bert hiccups, and lets out another scream. He clumsily poises to run again, but Eduardo yells out, “Stop!”

Bert does exactly that and lays down on the ground. Eduardo shakes his head. “This is hopeless,” he mutters.

“Go north,” Eduardo says slowly.

“Who?” Bert asks.

“North is not a life form, it’s the direction you are facing right now,” Eduardo points his walking stick to help Bert understand, “The snakes’ base is there. It’s hard to miss. Go find it and save us all!”

Bert squawks and starts bouncing north like a kangaroo. Shaking his head, Eduardo retreats to his spot under the sand.

After a while, Bert sees a structure like a laboratory, and stops. Settling down near the side of it, the mongoose burrows into the sand. It’s nice and shady next to the metal wall with a snake drawn on it, and it’s even out of the sun! A perfect place to spend the night. He curls up, wraps his tail around his small body, closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep.

He awakens fifteen hours later, yawns, and stretches, gripping the ground with his claws. But, instead of the ground, he feels something slimy and scaly. Too frightened to utter a sound, Bert the Bird lets go of the thing, then grabs it again. This time, he adds more force and crushes it. It makes no noise. Bert sniffs it. Danger.

Bert slowly hightails it around the corner. He finds himself inside the structure. He sniffs again. The air tastes different. Spicier. Cautiously, he pads forward, tiny paws making no sound.

Hearing voices, he crouches low to the ground to camouflage himself. He doesn’t realize that the building is white-painted metal, and he is a furry brown mongoose. Bert slinks closer to the sound, not stopping. He wants to see who’s speaking.

Suddenly, the floor drops out from under him. Bert meows loudly, scared out of his mind. He plummets five feet, and lands in some dirt. The air is knocked out of his lungs, and Bert sits on his buttocks like a human, wheezing. Shaking his head like a wet dog, Bert stands up and observes his surroundings. He’s in a dark room with no light. So, he’s unable to see anything.

Snorting, Bert decides to use his other four senses to get a feel of where he is. Bert’s never been this resourceful before.

He pats around at the dirt under him and slowly moves forward. He immediately hits a wall. Snorting again in contempt, he turns around and is met with another obstacle. Snorting even louder, Bert jumps five feet in the air in dissatisfaction and blasts straight through the roof of the dark hole.

The surprise of his heroic and super-mongoose actions scares him, and Bert jumps again. However, this time he doesn’t snort. Mobilizing again, he trots down the hallway. The voices have stopped, but Bert hasn’t.

A crossroads appears in front of him. He keeps moving and hits the middle dividing wall face first. Startled, he blinks twice in a row. Turning around almost completely, he takes the left path. He sees a door on his right as he moves down the path, and Bert turns quickly to enter the room.

Four snakes stare at him. Bert recoils, barking at them. They seem unaffected by his terrifying show of terror and hiss at him, “Why are you here, mongoose?”

“Who?”

The snakes sigh.

“Where are your federal income taxes?” they inquire, just as Desktop App had. Bert doesn’t answer. “Bert, you have been in debt to us for years. Each time you fight us, we lose purposely so someday you will have to pay us back for all the victory we have given you.”

“I disagree.”

And with that, Bert runs away, hooning down the hall and bursting out the door. He feels different. His head feels heavier, less empty, like something’s in there. Brain cells, he thinks to himself! He’s finally found some! The chemicals in the snakes’ lair must have given him some.

The ground disappears under his paws as he runs ferociously towards town. He must inform them of the nonconsensual agreement between him and the snakes regarding debt. He doesn’t understand what federal income taxes have to do with it, so he decides to disregard those for now.

The low skyline appears on the horizon, but Bert has no energy left. Slowly, the mongoose begins to decrease speed until he drags himself to a stop. Being awake for three hours is too much for a mongoose. Bert falls asleep a mile out of town.

The next morning, Bert wakes up and sneezes forty-seven times. Immediately, despite the sleep in his eyes and mussed-up hair, the valiant mongoose bounds towards town, making it there within the span of ten minutes.

The people are hiding in their houses, frightened of poor, misunderstood Bert. He meows pathetically. Suddenly, his voice acts without him thinking about it, like he’s saying a prophecy. He says, “Humans! My name is Bert the Bird, The Demonic Mongoose of the Wild West! But I do not claim that title! I am just Bert!”

He pauses, waiting for an answer. Silence.

Bert continues, “I need your help. The snakes have tricked me. My past lack of brain cells made me victim to a devious scheme- each time I fought a snake, the reptile would lose purposely, consequently indebting me to them. I never consented to this agreement or trade! I need your help defeating these reptiles, as the ferocious mongoose you know as Bert the Bird is not me, and I am just a mere mammal. I do not seek revenge, just justice.”

Bert the Bird looks around, partly perturbed by his voice acting on its own, and partly to see if there were any takers to his courageous call.

A door creaked open. Bert looked hopefully towards it and saw a badger.

“BADGER!” He screeched. Perhaps not the wisest call, but it sufficed, as Badger came hurling out the door towards Bert. (in fear.)

However, once he saw the wide, hopeful smile spread across Bert’s face, all fear dissipated. A few other animals slowly left the security of their homes and Bert was soon surrounded by a kingdom of squawking, ribbeting, barking, meowing, mooing, squeaking, and aggressive flapping.

“We will help you!” a turkey said. Cornbread was his name.

“YEAHHHHHHH!” came an overly loud yell from a rare blue land shrimp. (Her entire body consists of a voice box supposedly; Bert had heard stories.)

Resounding expressions of agreement echoed throughout the square. “I am unendingly grateful for your assistance. Do we have any weaponry in this town?”

“Cabbage catapults,” growled an ostrich named Oallllyieee (exact spelling.) Bert could barely hear the baritone bird.

“Pitchforks!” squeaks a rare yellow land whale. (This is the Wild West we have some interesting species.)

No one else reported any items, so Bert assumed that cabbage catapults and pitchforks were the extent of their defense system.

“Let us prepare! Up and at ‘em!” Bert inspired, moving to go follow the animals as everyone streaked (not that kind of streaked) towards the barn located on the outskirts of Editing Reference File, the town.

Everyone grabbed pitchforks, except for the bears and tigers (and the cacophonous rare blue land shrimp) who prepared the cabbage catapults.

Lining up along the northern edge, all the animals positioned their attention on the outline of the snake structure at the top of the hill and waited.

Not for long though, as a thunderous kerplonking and whooshing resounds from the hill. Hundreds of slithering noodles rampage towards the rest of the Wild West’s animal kingdom, slapping their tails against the sand in an uncoordinated fashion. These reptiles don’t stand a chance.

“Catapults at the ready!” roars Bert. The tigers’ claws fortunately abstain from becoming stuck in the voluminous leaves of the green vegetable. One of the bears, however, is not so lucky and now has large, round, leafy hands. He uses this to his advantage and begins to beat up some slimy thugs.

“Fire!” Bert triumphantly yells once the snakes are in range. The cabbages hit the snakes dead-on, and an estimated sixty-three of them remain motionless. Not dead, just unconscious, as cabbages are not deadly projectiles no matter how hard you shoot them.

The snakes keep heading for the opposing army, and Bert screams, “Charge!”

Shrimps, buffalos, common loons, rhinos, tamarins, cows, and more trample two-hundred-sixty-four reptilian noodles. The head snako calls for a retreat. Bert’s militia hesitates, letting them fall back and re-group. Bert’s army is considerate, unlike the scaly, legless bodies.

Instead of asking for a surrender, the snakes turn around, screeching, and attack again. Bert charges at them. The chemicals in the snakes’ lair had not only given him knowledge, but also some speed.

Using his stout legs, Bert kicks those floppy worms out of the park! None of the snakes get even close to hurting Bert, he is just too fast. Cheering erupts from the Southern side. The North deflates and retreats again.

This time, only one fishy noodle comes back. He is wearing a lop-sided top hat and looks like a prestigious pirate.

Heaving, he goes up to Bert. Bert quirks up a hairy eyebrow.

“We surrender,” the sophisticated mustache-having snake breathes.

“I accept,” Bert responds, “But you must promise to leave the South alone. Stay back in the North with your failure of a capitalist economy.”

Johnny Smith, the snako, snarls but retreats, saying, “To the North!” His army dejectedly follows, slithering slowly. A cloud of dust appears and hides their retreat. Bert watches to make sure it was not a mask to hide a second attack. It was not. The sand settled, showing the snake structure’s door opening to let all the reptiles in.

The Southern crowd cheers. No one is hurt and all is well! Bert is named Bert The Bird the Speedy and Slick and is unanimously proclaimed sheriff of Editing Reference File. He is now free to live his life as he chooses, saving the world and making uplifting speeches to his fellow citizens.

Sometimes he struggles to feel satisfied with all the stress on his shoulders and misses his easy life back on the plains. He goes back sometimes and reminisces about the times where his head was empty, and a brain did not disrupt his inner peace.

But he remains in Editing Reference File as a hero (who can pay his federal income taxes.)

*The directions have nothing to do with the Civil War, my brother is paranoid and is making me put this here.

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iwantutobehapppier · 4 years

Text

Nobody Loves No One (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Summary: You know one thing, James Buchanan Barnes was trustworthy and you weren't. When he inserts himself into your family drama and past can you show you're worthy of his trust or deign to hurt him as most of life has?

Word Count: 4,219

Warnings: Eventual Smut, night terrors, angst, canon typical violence, implied child abuse and cursing. 18 and older only

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for coming back for chapter two! 💖 I am trying to get these out weekly and I don’t see that being an issue. Things are still building and the smut is coming. Hahah If you’re holding out hold out just a smidge longer. 😘

The drive should have been short but Bucky got a bit turned around or at least that's what he claimed, blaming the change in road names from his more formative years. Though you doubted that had truly changed.

"Your dad gets into trouble often?" Bucky's casual tone did little to hide his curiosity. He had always prided himself on being shrouded in mystery but you were just a mystery.

"Not lately but the old man seems to think to make deals with the local gang is better than taking money from his Avenger daughter." You miss Bucky's eyebrows raising, you weren’t kidding on having father issues. “Even if they’ll kill him when he fails to pay back.”

"Too much pride?" You remain silent, "too much guilt then?" You feel a stab in your chest, Bucky was too observant and it was impacting your ability to keep your private life just that, private. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset over it, after all, if you trusted anyone to know these parts of you it’s him. However, you weren’t going to be forthcoming.

"Listen Bucky I'm all for team building and such but this isn't a ‘let's get to know the weird father-daughter relationship’ moment." You look out the passenger window making air quotes, the familiar run-down buildings setting you on edge for the second time tonight.

"This is a ‘help your teammate kill a bunch of local thugs from killing her lousy excuse of a father’ moment." When Bucky stops the car he turns his head towards you as you continue.

"And then maybe," you emphasized by pushing your pointer finger in his chest and he had to hold back the smile that would certainly piss you off, "Maybe we can talk about aforementioned fucked up relationship."

"Annoyed always looks good on you," Bucky steps out of the car missing the way you ground your teeth together at his smart ass response. Stepping out of the car you mutter, "I will not kill my teammate, I will not kill my teammate."

"What was that Toots?" Bucky calls out setting Betsy’s barrel upside down on his shoulder.

"Nothing," Bucky smirks, able to hear you clear as day but to miss an opportunity to tease you wasn’t in Bucky.

Rolling the silencer on your handgun you make your way around the corner to the front of a building you had thought left in your past. The double doors had one guy with a bat in his hand guarding. You held back a scoff if they knew you were coming clearly they forgot how you took care of business. Though back then your business was taking care of their issues, not them.

Walking up to the man before he could raise his bat you shot him dead center in the forehead. Bucky whistled as the body slumped to the ground.

Opening the double doors you took out two more mob thugs while Bucky pulls the bat-wielding thug into the building by his metal arm.

“This is gonna get messy huh?” Bucky trusted you wouldn’t kill an innocent or lure him to do the same but he had to express his concerns.

“Anyone in here would shoot you and your family before you could ask for mercy.” Bucky signaled towards the hallway on your right, his hearing picking up the sound of oncoming footsteps.

“You used to do the killing for us.” A short older man pointed a machine gun at you three others behind him. Without a response, you shot him in the chest and then in the head as Bucky’s gun went off three times in a row taking care of the gentlemen’s back up.

You didn’t dare look at Bucky, not wanting to answer the questions he probably had until this was all over.

After plenty of bullets, snapped necks and broken limbs you cracked your knuckles at the "final boss" door. This door was familiar though, you had spent a good portion of your youth protecting the people behind it and fighting their battles for them all at the expense of your humanity just to pay your father's debts.

"I'd rather you stay out here Bucky." He chortled and shook his head in disbelief.

"Not gonna happen." He stepped up next to you bumping his shoulder against yours. You sighed, your shoulders raising at the growing anxiety of what Bucky may hear. Turning your head towards him he looked at you from the corner of his eyes then turns at his waist.

Reaching over with his metal hand he wiped away blood splattered on your cheek once again. If he were being honest with himself he'd tell you he hated seeing that crimson red stain your beautiful face. But he wasn't always good at being honest with himself.

You study his face trying to get a read on him after so much shared carnage. There's a softness in his eyes that's misplaced in a room full of death.

"Just remember I never said I was always a good person." Before Bucky could ask any follow-up questions you kicked the steel-reinforced door in, watching it fall down.

A smile played at the corner of your lip hearing the cry of a man being crushed under the weight of the door and the following crunching coupled with a pain-filled groan as you both stepped on top of the door making your way into the room.

Bucky checked the magazine in Betsy as you survey the remaining five thugs and a weathered senior man sitting at a desk center of the room. His hand resting on a firearm laid on top of the desk. No one appeared to be making the first move.

"Well well." The old man's voice nails on a chalkboard, just like all those years ago. You had to stop yourself from charging at him when he spoke your name with fondness.

"Keep my name out of your mouth!" You command.

"Come on now, you can't be mad at me after everything?" His sun leathered hand patting the handgun still resting on the desk. Your eyes cut to the worn corner where the wood was lighter with indents from your head being slammed against it when you failed as a teenager and young adult.

"After all your father is the one who brought you into this," his other hand waved around the room, "Only fitting this world be the reason for his demise?" You curled your fingers into fists at your side. Bucky glances down with a creased brow, standing up a bit straighter in reaction.

"Whatever he owes, whatever he did isn't worth his life Marco." Marco chuckled. "Either I kill you or you let me pay what he owes, with interest."

Marco stands up slamming both hands on the desk yelling out in Italian, Bucky aims Betsy dead center in Marco’s chest. You catch the movement out of the corner of your eye satisfied at his reflexes. Always nice to have a super-soldier master assassin on your side.

"He is bad man,” his voice thick with broken English with his growing ire “You know better than any.”

“He lives?" Marco raises his hands up as he speaks. "No, no. That's not the code you swore to when you left me." He smiles keeping eye contact. You nod to Bucky and he lowers his gun, confused but trusting you.

"Badman is a dead man, no? Tesoro,” his works eerily soft causing you to flinch, “he deserves to pay for what he made you do."

"What you made me do." You gritted out between clenched teeth. Your hands flexed open and closed along your pant legs.

"A-ah. He brought you to me, a gift, a debt paid. He is just as guilty if not more." His voice was full of the condescension you were much too familiar with. It was like stepping back in time except you knew this old decrepit man held no fear over you and could do nothing in retaliation, nothing long-lasting at least.

"Just think about it, Tesoro.” the nickname rolling off your tongue makes you want to wretch. “I know he is your father but what would your sweet moth-" before he could finish a knife flew from your hand, planting firmly between his eyes. Not missing a moment Bucky fired in quick succession laying waste to remaining thugs in the room before they even knew their boss was dead.

Marco's voice cracks as if still trying to finish the word before going silent and crumpling across the ornate desk chair. Walking up to Marco's corpse you pulled the knife out wiping the blood on his shirt before putting it away.

Pulling out your phone you went to recent and waited for an answer.

"You did it, shithead?" Bucky could hear over the phone, his brow still furrowed. He had to wonder what kind of man was your father? If this was any glimpse, none at all.

"It's done, send the cleanup.” You pause watching the color drain from Macro’s body. “Don't ever call me again." You assert before hanging up still looking at Marco's face. Bucky took a step towards you. He stretches his arm out to place his hand on your shoulder but stilled when you spat in Marco's face.

Bucky caught the small tremors in your hands as you placed your phone back in your pocket. The ragged breath you pulled in left an ache in his chest. He was overwhelmed by the need to hold you in his embrace until you feel safe. Have you ever felt safe?

Even with everything he had done in the war and as a brainwashed HYDRA assassin he could still remember feeling loved and safe. The way his mother would card her fingers through his hair when he couldn't sleep as a child. Or how it felt when his sisters would dogpile on him. He felt safe.

He had to wonder once more did you ever feel safe? He wasn't so sure.

"Fucking hated this place. Let's go!" You extolled, turning around to face Bucky with a haunting smile.

This was different than his beloved murder smile. Whatever this was, he knew it was a front. It reminded him of all those smiles Steve would give him after army rejections. A smile to hide the pain.

The ride back to your car in front of your father’s shop was silent. Which between the two of you wasn't uncharacteristic but there was a newfound tension like static in the air.

What could you share with him that could ease his mind? What parts of you were left to give? Your train of thought was halted as Bucky pulled up next to your parked car.

"See you back at the compound." Bucky's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he spoke. You opened the car door, the smell of the incoming dawn wafting into the small confines of the car. You started to leave the car but paused

"I-uh," Bucky watched you from the corner of his eyes. His fingers relax their hold on the steering wheel waiting for what you had to say. "I have a place not far from here," Bucky raises an eyebrow and you grunted.

"After all that happened tonight, I'd much rather lay in bed than drive all the way upstate." Bucky nodded in agreement.

"I'll see you when you get back then Toots." You sighed, rather dramatically Bucky let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm inviting you to join you, idiot." His eyes narrowed at the name-calling. After tonight he didn't want to hear another disparaging word out of your mouth for a while, if ever. It only reminded him of how you have been treated.

"I'll come with but don't talk to me like you do your father." His tone clipped but you simply smiled back at him as you stepped out of the car texting Bucky the address.

"Thought you wanted to be my Daddy, Barnes?" He didn't miss the coquettish tone and smile but failed to reciprocate.

"From what I can tell that man was no dad." Bucky looked down at his phone surprised how close the address was. "See you there." He finalized and you shut the door making your way to your own vehicle.

When Bucky entered your fifth-floor apartment he wasn't sure what he'd find in a space that was entirely your own. At the compound you kept things pretty minimal, some jewelry on a dresser, clothes organized, a black and white poster of some European city during the day but no real personal effects. Hell outside of a photo Wanda gave you from a team outing there was nothing in your room that showed who it belonged to.

Bucky found it odd at first however if anyone came into his room he wasn't sure there'd be terribly too much to indicate it was his either outside. Maybe the workout bench and weights he kept when he didn't want to be in the gym with others. There was also that vintage New York Dodgers poster you bought for him, similar to the one you got for Steve.

Seeing your apartment, it made sense to him now, you kept yourself here. The living room was full of warm tones, throw blankets that looked dangerously soft, two giant filled bookcases and photos all over the place. Soft lighting encasing the room in comfort.

"It's not much," your voice pulling him from his analysis, "but it's mine." The soft ending in your tone warmed him, it was clear you were trusting him with something no one else had seen.

The pile of mail on the other side of the door you picked up along with dust he could see on the bookcases alluded to it being a place you hadn't seen in a while. Sensing his scrutiny you felt the need to justify yourself.

"I used to stay here more often but the compound is easier for missions," You set the pile of mail on the old writing desk across from a small kitchen. Bucky's eyes caught on a framed photo next to the mail. A young woman is holding a toddler in front of your father's butchery, the building looks newer than it does now and the woman in clothes not of a recent style.

"Who's that?" Bucky looks up to catch you stretching your arms above you with your back facing him. Watching the small of your back slowly be revealed as the shirt rises, he licks his lips rapidly losing interest in the photo. But when you turned around and caught sight of what he was referring to you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"That's me and Mom," you turn back around. Only then does he realize she does look an awful lot like you or was it you looked like her? The stark difference was her face, it appeared softer.

Your face often held hard lines that Bucky wanted to soften with his hands. Your edges so jagged, he longed to cut himself on them. Know you intimately, deeper levels you rarely showed. The times your face would soften the most recently have been over the past few months with him. A small part of him hoping it meant you were opening up to him in ways he could burrow inside and never leave.

Bucky set his duffle back containing Betsy and gear on the floor next to the one you had set down before grabbing the mail.

"Where your ma'?" Bucky trailed his fingers on the desk as he followed behind you slowly. You turn your head and he sees your side profile, the soft lights do little to hide the pain in your eyes.

"Same place as yours." He inhales quickly at your response. "Shower down the way there," you gesture towards a cracked open door. "Bed is that way." You gestured to the hallway opposite of bathroom door and make your way down the same hallway as he heads towards the bathroom. A good scrubbing sounded nice.

When Bucky stepped out of the shower he noticed the dark blue sweatpants and a grey shirt laying on the bathroom counter that were certainly not there before. A soft blush covered his cheeks at the thought of you walking in on him showering. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you and the past few hours. Had he been so distracted in the shower that he missed you coming in? That wasn’t like him at all.

However, he left his guard down around you more so than he should, at least that’s what Steve had expressed concern over. Bucky shook his head, what did that punk know anyway? He couldn’t even talk to women.

After drying his hair until slightly damp he pulled the sweatpants on. They were almost too snug on him but clearly too big for you. The thought that someone else, a guy particularly, leaving them here caused an unsettling burn in his chest. He knew you weren't his but he'd be lying if he didn't relish the thought of you being so one day. Pushing the burning sensation down he made his way to the hallway you had mentioned he could find a bed.

Finding the first door he came across open he felt his jaw slide open. Your hair was down damp, wearing obscenely short sleep shorts and a tank top that strained against pebbled nipples. Swallowing away the dryness in his throat Bucky looked towards the ceiling before clearing his throat.

"Where's the guest room?" You tilted your head at him in confusion. Turning down the sheets you crawled into the bed.

"What guest room?" Bucky eyes stopped tracing patterns in the ceiling design to look back at you in equal confusion.

"You said a bed was down the hall." Your hand gestured to the bed in reply as you lay on your side. You tried and failed to cover the smile as Bucky became flustered with realization.

"I'll take the couch." You frowned at him and patted the open space next to you.

"Don't be silly, the bed is big enough for both of us," you couldn't help the coquettish smile that pulls on your lips, "Unless you're scared of sleeping next to me."

Bucky swallows the growing lump in his throat. He wasn't scared of you, never had been regardless of some teammates’ concerns. His main concern lay with the ever-growing attraction he felt toward you.

Bucky felt himself caving, the last time the two of you shared a bed it was after rather traumatic night terror this was different. This wasn’t comfort-based.

"I won't bite you Bucky," bending your arm and resting the side of your head on the palm of your hand, you watch with growing interest at what the super soldier will do.

Laying down next to you Bucky folds his arms under his head and turns his head towards you with that beautiful smile that took your breath away more often than not.

"That's a shame Toots." You sputter at his response and turn towards the side table under the guise of turning the light off to hide your embarrassment, feeling the warmth in your cheeks and moving down to your chest.

With your back to him, you lay down and close your eyes, trying to push down the desire to curl up to the warmth radiating off his body. Bucky let out a huff hot air pushing against your back, he wraps his metal arm over your stomach, warm flesh arm snaking under you to pull your back to his chest.

Before you can start verbal spar over his actions he locks his arms around you, fingers curling into the softness of your abdomen. The intimacy of the touch taking away any thoughts you tried to voice. There was unfamiliar security in his touch that left you wearisome. Resigning that you wouldn’t be able to stop this, and honestly not wanting to you close your eyes once more.

Bucky satisfied at your body relaxing into his hold he smiles against the top of your head.

“So is this a get to know the weird father-daughter relationship moment?” Bucky teased into your ear.

You groan a hand flying back to smack him in the head but he grabs it pulling it down to rest on your abdomen encased by his arm. You could practically hear your heartbeat thudding in your chest as his fingers intertwined with yours. Certain his superhuman hearing picking up on it.

“This is a go-to-sleep moment,” you hiss out. Trying to quell the fluttering in your chest.

“I’m not tired though.” Bucky whines in your ear, “Tell me a story,” his fingers curling into your palm between your fingers. Looking down at where he held your hand you could feel yourself giving in. Oh, how easy it would be to just fall for Bucky Barnes.

“There once was a little girl,” Bucky pulls you flush to him, leaning his head down to nuzzle into your neck inhaling deep. You were fairly certain he could feel the increasing pace of your pulse at the touch.

“Things were good for her, for a while,” closing your eyes you continue, letting his embrace soothe your growing unease at opening up. “She had a father who would pat her head sometimes but outside of that he had no love to give her but that was okay because her mother who loved her so much made up for the loss,”

“Sounds like a great mom,” Bucky whispers against your neck, his lips resting against your pulse.

“She was, she tried so hard to make her little girl happy,” you paused “But they knew something was different about their little girl. She broke bottles, toys, and cribs with the slightest grip of her fingers. One time she held a glass too tight and it shattered,” You smirked recalling the panic in your mother and father, time having a way to make the most macabre funny.

“That was the only time the little girl saw her mother cry.” Though remembering your mother’s fear was not all that funny.

“After that, her mother kept smiling and telling her how special and wonderful she was. Neither of them knew what to do with their child. As the little girl grew her mother taught her to be cautious of pressure, always guiding the little girl’s tiny but powerful hands.” Bucky pulled your hand from against your stomach eyes peering from your neck. He notices the faint scars on the palms of your hand.

“Gentle hands like your holding an egg,” you mused, “That’s what her mom would say.”

“What happened to her,” Bucky’s face so close to your neck you could feel the heat and moisture.

“She was murdered,” Bucky’s body tensed around you, your monotone recount of her death chilling. “Someone tried to rob the butchery, she stood up against them and paid the ultimate price.”

“There were no more gentle hands, just the overwhelming drive of vengeance and a cold distant father.” You felt Bucky slowly relax around you, his head nuzzling into your neck once more. “He asked the mob for help in getting the person who did it in exchange for services. I was 11 at the time and Marco was just a business associate of my dad’s to me.”

“Then I killed that man who touched my friend I held worth to my father for once, he made a trade.” You trembled at the memory of being handed off to the mob, you could almost hear your cries at your father’s retreating figure. Bucky cocoons you with his warmth and the feel of his chest even breathing slowly reeling you back to the present.

He turns you in his embrace, laying you flat on the bed as he remains on his side. You didn’t know you had been crying until the cool pad of his metal fingers and warmth of his flesh thumb wipe them from your cheeks.

“You didn’t have a choice Toots, you were their weapon.” You shake your head in his hands.

“No you didn’t have a choice, I did. I could have left,” Bucky’s lips downturn at the omission. “I choose to kill those people for them and I will work until my dying breath to kill the right ones from now on.” Not wanting to talk about it anymore, you bury your face into his chest and sigh with content at the feel of Bucky’s embrace and smell surrounding you.

“I’m not saying we had the same choices or the same circumstances that led us to do what we did but I will say,” Bucky pauses lifting your chin up but you keep your eyes closed.

“Don't ever tame your demons Toots, they keep you alive.” Opening your eyes you hold your breath at the sight of moonlight illuminating his face. You knew Bucky was handsome but coupled with his words and gentle touch you never believed a human being could be so beautiful to you. It scared you.

Burrowing your face back into his chest he lets out a soft chuckle. He wraps his arms around you, dipping his face down into your hair, inhaling deep. The two of you slowly drift to sleep.

#james buchanan barnes #james barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x Female Reader #eventual smut #canon violence #james bucky barnes x reader

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jadestrange · 3 years

Text

Death.. it’s not what you think

I don’t know why but ever since I was a child I was soulfully drawn to a character in a drama series I’m to embarrassed to mention the name - She said somehow she’d always known she would die young and indeed she did.

Ever since I’ve never really managed to let it go. I contemplated death from an incredibly young age and I’ve never really known why. No one close to me had even ever died when I was a child, yet death and the concept of the non-existence was constantly on my mind.

I recall for some reason I always thought about it every time we would drive through this one curve of the road near my grandparents home that would trigger it. Every time they drove past it on the way to drop me off at home I would immediately imagine non-existence, something I possibly couldn’t grasp. For some reason “nothingness” terrified me.

Death seems to be motif throughout my life, but to an abnormal degree. Ever since I could cognitively dream, I had only and ONLY had lucid nightmares. I was aware. But never fully in control. If I screamed, my voice disappeared. If ran I’d move in slow motion. If I covered my eyes from gore or horror my hands and eyelids would turn transparent. I think about the age of 5/6 I finally managed to gain enough control to do one thing and one thing alone…Kill myself

It was the only escape. The simulated pain of death within a dream was much more bearable than the nightmares themselves - even though I experienced genuine pain while doing it sometimes.

One time in particular there was nothing to kill myself with. No tall building. No bridge. No water. No knife. Nothing…

but a wall

So I ran

over

and over

smashing my face into my wall - until I woke up.

I felt it all

In fact recently I had a similar lucid nightmare.

The problem with lucid dreams is that the deeper you go the more real and tactical they feel... and the more you feel.

I often recall ever tactical piece of physical items in my dreams, analyzing them with my hands and fingertips in awe, amazement and sometimes fear at how real they felt. There was no physical telling in the difference between the dream and reality itself. Only the conscious tells whether it is or isn’t a dream - normally due to the absurdity of their nature.

In this Dream people or things were chasing me. Fear pure fear. I don’t know why. But all I knew was that THAT emotional pain was so unbearable that the risk of the pain of jumping headfirst off a bridge was worth it. I took a moment, feeling the scratchy grit of the cold metal poles of the bridge railings inside my sweaty palms. ‘This felt real’ I knew it. ‘But I had to’, it was the only way to escape. I was no longer in the lucid state of being able to control my environment only myself. I had to fight every instinct any real person would jumping head first into the low ground, the only difference was that little shred of hope - that maybe - just maybe I would wake up from the impact before I could feel anything.

I wonder if that’s what people who jump off buildings think as they’re falling down and there’s no turning back - that maybe - just maybe - they’ll die before they feel any true pain.

I paused writing this. A sudden chilly reminder came over me of a boy who momentary lost his sanity and indeed jumped head first down the stairs and indeed died. My friend saw it... I just felt a memory of a dream doing the same thing. That was weird.. I’m moving on

So right death. Another theme I carry is the need to resolve things with everyone and anyone I have encouraged to the point that it is either annoying or maddening for other people.

I guess I felt and still feel like I’m in a perpetual awareness of my death possibly arriving on tomorrows door.

Or perhaps I just want to feel lighter, because everything else, all the hidden things were too heavy to carry on their own. Like a camel’s back I could handle no straw - or more yet not even a feather.

I guess that makes me rather pathetic in other people’s eyes. But perhaps those are normally the eyes of someone who has not felt that weight.

I’m aware that a kg/ton of feathers is the same as a kg/ton of straws ( a metaphor for different the forms of pain if you didn’t catch that) - but how strong are the camel’s legs? How wounded are they? How well nourished were they since they were born? Are they loved or lashed?

Perhaps the weight may seem the same to outsiders eyes however - how it feels internally cannot be seen but merely felt by those who themselves have experienced it or at least something very similar.

I think I have a very confusing and troubling relationship with Death. On one side it always made me aware of the appreciation of my existence (the physical world, emotions, senes, conceptualization)

But on the other side it always came with an impending sense of constant pressure to fulfill my deeds and “pay my debt” in some sense. perhaps that’s not the right way to say it. More like “do the best I can” you know? Leave your mark on the world, give something back, make a positive impact as your farewell.

Which could either be unrealistic or perhaps it is just my assumption how grander that impact has to be. Something big. Something that says “The carbon footprint left by this one was worth it” haha.

Is that silly? Is that normal? Do other people feel this way or is everyone right about me? That I put too much pressure on myself.

Which too within itself seems to be a contradiction since society itself, friends, family, work, reputation, sustainability all requires pressure.

Some say I over think. While I think others under think.

Which is funny - considering I once had a lectuer tell me I was under thinking a script concept when in reality he was under thinking and unwilling to assume it had any more nuances or complexities that was an incredibly difficult topic to tackle.

It’s funny how sometimes you can seem stupid when you try explain something complex because the jargon and general context / information you’ve build up over time seems so obvious to you. Without that context your explanations can become muddled - since they would require a lot of time to give the context.

Quantum Physics for example. I remember trying to explain the concept to my friends in high school. It seemed… crazy - ridiculous - stupid - pseudo. In a strange retaliation my ex BFF went to the science teacher and queued it to come back to our group to tell me I was wrong (after we all agreed to have dropped it by the way).

I of course responded “Yes because a person who’s literally only studied a high school’s equivalent of physics would have the knowledge of a field way beyond her years and degree”

Eh.. School. Not so much friends. More just the people you settle for. Looking back all my relationships were pretty toxic - aside from one. I wrongfully teased my one friend for having hairy legs once and I still feel really bad about it today, in fact I messaged her a few years ago about it saying sorry.

But what the rest did to me… was.. ah.. definitely not on the same scale. I was betrayed a lot.

I got use to betrayal from a young age. Families seem to think it’s funny to undermine things that are important to children. It’s like they seek joy from it, I think they think it’s fun for the kids but it’s not.

Having your secrets shared between your family and laughed at as a child is.. betrayal. Being neglected, left in unsafe or unhealthy hands, unjustifiably disciplined … physically disciplined - are all betrayals.

I got accustomed to it. Silence was the way. Never tell anyone anything. People don’t help you anyway. In fact they often use it against you. Or worse undermine your pain.

It was strange.. I was clearly bullied. Yet I was the one who got sent to a shitty - oh lets just distract you for a bit but not really do anything- school councilor.

Death… mm. death death death. I understand the contemplation at around the time I started school, but why when I was like little little? Why have I always been crushed so easily?

Why was I always a target?

Did I want pity? no.. maybe sometimes (not that THAT ever worked - but no mostly it is was genuine emotion and debilitating pain. Crying. Freezing. Hyper-ventilating.

I wonder if I did it to myself. Had I done something so outright bizarre that deemed my the school target? What it cause I was a year younger? Was the shame of teachers shouting at me due to my ADD in front of my class.

Or was I just Overly Empathetic? I remember my first day of school…. the teacher shouted at a girl next to me and I started crying - she in turned shouted at me for crying.

Despite being broke now I did have money as a kid. Not like the rich kids of the school but, I had lunch money. Maybe that was it. I shared it too often maybe?

Was I too honest? Too weird? Too much of a push over? It was everything I had every been taught to my by mother’s side of the family. The family I mostly grew up in.

It’s quite sad. My mom could write a way better book full of funny characters and bizarre relatives like a movie - all the drama - the comedy. She started writing - it was good too. But she was too tired from work and stopped.

I think it’s sad because my stories aren’t funny.. just sad. Maybe with some beautiful moments (although the best ones would be indescribable). I think hers would have been better. A story a woman overcoming a broken abusive family and poverty who worked her way to the top of owning her own company.

Inspiring.

While mine just feels like a bummer… maybe that’s just because it isn’t finished yet.

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years

Text

Just a thought I had, would like to write it (read it), but don't know how to.

You are a shapeshifting dragon guarding a princess in the castle. You are also a caretaker and guide of said castle. You are bound to the castle by magic in a metal collar around your neck and only way to break free is for the princess to be rescued. One day a prince come to rescue her and to slay the dragon. Only problem is that you fall in love with him. Shifted to your human form you approach him.

Thanks for the prompt submission @adaed5! I’m not sure if this is what you were looking for, but here is the story I came up with. I hope you enjoy it!

“What is this?”

I stared at the shining, glittering metal coins in my hand, curious as to why the humans around me were paying it so much heed.

Phillip barely glanced in my direction before rolling his eyes, “It’s gold.”

“Gold?” I rolled the unfamiliar word around my tongue, trying to test it out. “What’s so important about this ‘gold’?”

He shrugged at my question, fairly uninterested in the conversation as he led me through the market, picking up objects and purchasing them with a smile for the vendors.

“It’s money, currency. It’s considered a valuable, rare metal. They make jewelry out of it sometimes. Wars have been fought over it.”

Staring at the coins with skepticism, I shook my head slowly, handing the coins back over to Phillip. “Silly humans, it’s not the most rare or even the most beautiful metal, why waste time and effort over it?”

“Not all of us think like you do, dragon.” He laughed at me, and despite his mocking tone I found myself laughing with him.

I was a dragon.

One of the supreme beings, born of fire and magic, destined to live centuries, even millennia, before returning to the world’s flame. I was a young dragon, only several decades old. I had grown out of my lair, bored with the lack of other creatures. Crawling from the cave where I had been born, the light of the sun had blinded me, almost causing me to turn back. I am a dragon. I told myself firmly. I fear nothing. I left the safety of my home, and went to explore. I had tried many forms, changing my shape was a gift of mine, a natural ability of a dragon. I flew with birds, crawled with snakes, I ran with wolves and swam with fish. Each fun and exciting for a moment, but quickly growing dull after a few short years. Still I persisted, hoping to find a spark of interest, something that would call to me, give me a purpose.

All dragons have a purpose.

And then I came across a new, fantastic creature. One that varied greatly from beast to beast. Since taking its form, I had yet to lose interest in their ever changing presence.

Humans.

“Are you ready to go?” Phillip asked once he had completed his preparations. I nodded, tired of observing the market anyways.

I had met him during my third or forth year running around in human form. I had been masquerading as an adventurer, finding that this was the best way to explore freely without being questioned. Fortunately, adventurers seemed to be a rather odd group, even for humans, so my… peculiarities, from my inexperience with human culture, were overlooked. Phillip was a fellow adventurer, one that I had taken several quests with already. We were close, although our initial meeting hadn’t gone smoothly.

“You’re too weak.” Was the first thing he said to me, when I applied to join his group to take on a quest. I understood his concern. My human form looked frail, even compared to other humans. However, that did not mean I would let the insult slide. I was a dragon. I had my pride.

“I am stronger than you.”

Phillip raised an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

I did.

After regaining consciousness, the human agreed to team up with me while taking quests. It didn’t take long for him to discover my true identity. My odd gaps in knowledge regarding human culture and common sense were too obvious and strange to cover up for someone in such close proximity. Besides, it wasn’t like I felt shame or concern. I was a dragon, and I was proud.

A year had passed since that time.

After picking up supplies, we headed out on our quest. We entered a cave, thought to be a monster’s lair. The sources we received the quest from said that the creature was only active at night. If we snuck in during the day, it should be easy enough to kill.

Unfortunately, our information was inaccurate.

“Dodge!” I pushed Phillip out of the way, taking the full brunt of the Troll’s club into my chest. If I had been a normal human I would have instantly been crushed and died, but fortunately I was not. Instead, my human form was flung across the cace into a wall, knocking the air from my lungs.

I cursed as my body had a difficult time standing up, my arms bending under my weight, causing my body to fall to the ground.

A growl filled the room. The troll looked extremely awake and angry for a supposedly nocturnal creature. I was trapped between the wall and the monster, with nowhere to run.

“Dragon, transform and kill it!”

I shook my head at Phillip’s shouted advice. “I can’t, there’s not enough room!”

“Well, do SOMETHING or we’re going to die!”

“SHUT UP HUMAN!”

I wracked my brains as the troll walked closer, dragging its club on the ground. Its beady eyes were fixed on my struggling figure, a grin filled with large broken teeth spreading across its face as it stopped within striking distance. Drool dripped from its mouth, pooling on the floor near my feet. I tried to stand once more, almost making it before falling down again. This form had taken too much damage, even my strength as a dragon was not enough to force it to fight. I stared up at the creature that would cause my death, unresigned.

I am a dragon. A creature born of fire and magic. I can’t die like this. I WON’T die like this. All dragons have a purpose, and I won’t die before I find mine.

I glared at the monster as it raised its club.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this…AAAHH!” Just as the club was about to descend, Phillip muttered a few words and jumped on the troll’s back with a yell.

“Here!” Having distracted the monster, he tossed a bottle at me. I recognized it as a healing potion, a rare, expensive medicine. Normally I would resist taking something that would put me in debt, but desperate times… I chugged the contents in one go, standing up as strength filled my limbs once more. I stood up, just in time to see the troll throw Phillip across the room, where he struck the wall with a sickening crack!

“PHILLIP!” I called out, wanting to go to him to check on him, but unable to, obstructed by the troll. It smiled at me, looking forward to hurting something new, but seemed to shudder in fear when I smiled back at it.

It had forgotten. I was a dragon, and it was nothing more than prey before me.

I ripped the troll’s head off, still smiling.

Racing over its dead body, I knelt beside the still form of my human teammate. He was deathly still on the ground, his face pale, barely breathing. I rested a shaking hand on his forehead, letting my magic course through him.

He was dying. Bleeding on his brain, around his heart, into his abdomen. Too many injuries, all about to kill him. Broken bones, torn muscle, even if I stopped him from bleeding, he would never walk again. He was too far-gone for potions, or healing magic. He would die. I clutched at my chest as a sharp pain coursed through it. It was an unknown sensation, completely unrelated to any physical injuries. I was confused, upset, but in the midst of my agitation, a clear thought rose through.

I would not let him die.

I bit my finger, wincing as my teeth tore through skin. A drop of silver blood bloomed at the tip of the wound, and without hesitation I forced Phillip’s mouth open and dripped the blood in. He swallowed reflexively, and immediately his body started convulsing. Calm, now that I knew my blood was taking effect, I turned the man onto his side, and watched over his shaking form. Dragon blood had one of the most potent healing effects, but too much would rob a lesser creature of its life, and too little would be ineffective. Many had died from trying to steal what had to be rightfully given. Phillip would heal, he would live longer, be stronger, but he would live. As his body stilled, and his breathing evened out, I found myself smiling gently down at the friend I had made over this time.

“That is to repay you for the potion you gave me.”

Without it, I would have been unable to fight the troll, and would have died.

“… is that so?” a shaking voice replied, his eyes slowly opening.

I nodded. “A dragon always repays debts.”

He smiled, his overly pale face quickly filling with color once more. “Good to know.”

“I still owe you a favor, human.”

“What for?”

I shrugged. “You risked your life to distract the troll. Without that I would have died. Two favors, one repaid. What would you like for the second?”

“Hmm…” He thought it over. “I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know.”

“Don’t wait too long human, you all die so quickly.”

“Wow, so cheerful.”

We laughed at his words, and after a few moments of rest, we collected proof that we had killed the troll and made our way out of the cave.

“YOUR MAJESTY!”

A loud voice called out as we left the cave. Startled, we found ourselves faced with a large group of knights on horses, all with solemn expressions. I looked over at Phillip, whose face was grim.

“Your address is wrong.” His voice was so cold it seemed to freeze the air around us. “It’s ‘Your Highness.’”

The man in the front shook his head. “No, my king, I’m afraid it’s not.” At some unknown signal, the knights dismounted and knelt before us. “King William is dead. Long live King Phillip!”

“LONG LIVE THE KING!”

At their resounding shouts, I glanced over at my friend with a bemused expression. “So you were a king?”

“I WAS a prince.” He corrected. “Impressed?”

I laughed. “Not really. You’re still human.”

“That’s what I thought.” His words seemed annoyed, but there was an amused light in his eyes.

The kneeling man was offended at my reaction. “You there, adventurer! Kneel before your king!”

I smiled at them, releasing my aura of a dragon, and the knights went from bended knee to groveling on the ground with terrified expressions.

“Dragon…”

“Fine, I will let them go, since they are your people. “ I retracted my aura with a frown. “Teach them to fear and respect dragons though.”

“Deal. I have to go to the Capitol, there will be much to do with the death of my father.” He hesitated and then added. “Would you come with me?”

I was tempted. Phillip was the first friend I had met since taking on a human form. I also still owed him a favor for saving my life. But after a few moments, I shook my head. “No. The city is too crowded, and i have yet to find my purpose. I’ll continue to roam freely here.”

“Understood.”

“I will come find you soon. Until we meet again you must think of how you would like my debt repaid.”

His smile was sad. “Of course. A dragon always repays their debts, right?”

“Right.”

After ten years I went to find him again.

He was older, didn’t smile as much. His eyes were slightly colder, although a happy light still filled them when I walked through the palace doors, a trail of angry guards running behind me.

“Don’t you know how to announce a visit a head of time?” His voice was dry, but there was a smile on his face. “Or at least, knock?”

I shrugged. “I’m a dragon, why bother?”

“… Sure, why not?”

I stood before the throne, ignoring the shocked expressions of the humans around me when I didn’t kneel. “How would you like my debt to be repaid?”

“You really don’t waste time, do you? Would you like to have some tea?”

I shook my head. “I’ll drink tea with you, human. After you tell me how you would like me to repay my debt.”

Phillip sighed. “I don’t know, dragon. Can’t you simply forget and come spend time with a friend.” His smile was self-mocking. “It would do me some good to have someone nearby who didn’t treat me like some kind of god.”

I snorted. “A god should be more impressive.”

“Exactly what I mean.”

“I’ll have tea with you, human king. But then I will leave. I have not yet finished exploring, have not yet found my purpose. Think of what favor you would like before I return.”

“What if what I want is for you to stay with me?”

“Then I will.”

“But it will be because you owe me, not because you want to?”

I nodded. “That is correct.”

A long sigh left his body. “Then continue to be free, dragon.”

“I will return, human. I will repay my debt.”

“Of course,” He muttered. “A dragon always repays their debt.”

Ten years later.

I returned. He still had no request.

“I’d like you to meet someone.” His smile was gentle, but his eyes were even colder than before. He pushed a small child in front of him. A small girl with golden hair and a wide, innocent gaze. “This is Milana, my daughter, she’s six years old this year.”

I nodded. “Human child.” I turned back to Phillip with a frustrated expression. “If you still do not have a way for me to repay my debt, than I will go.”

“Wait!” He reached out, hesitating, and then asked. “Will you at least stay for tea with me and my daughter?”

I thought it over, I was in no rush. “I will.”

We passed an afternoon reminiscing about our adventures.

I left, with a promise to return to fulfill my debt.

Ten years later.

I received a letter from the king, before I could even plan to return. Startled, relieved, I made my way to the castle to talk with Phillip.

“Dragon, you came!” He greeted me with a friendly smile, reaching out to grasp my hand, but I stepped out of his reach. His expression, his posture, his words… everything indicated he was happy to see me, an old friend. But something in his eyes made me hesitate.

His eyes… they reminded me of the eyes of the troll all those years ago. Dark, mad, taking joy in hurting others.

Perhaps I simply imagined it. I shook my head, trying to clear it of that thought. Only ten years had passed, could my friend really have changed so much?

“You sent for me, human?” I tried to keep my voice natural.

“Yes, my friend. I finally have a way for you to repay your debt to me!” He sat down, motioning for me to do the same. “My precious daughter, my Milana, who you met before, is in great danger.” Sighing, he looked out of the window nearby, as if weighed down by his responsibilities. “She has a wonderful magical power which strengthens and blesses the nation she resides in. It is with her help these last sixteen years that my kingdom has flourished. But as she comes of age, the competition for her hand has become a bloodbath. All sorts of greedy and unruly men wish to claim her, to use her powers for their own gain.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You wish me to kill these suitors then?”

“No, there are too many, and many are too important.” He sighed loudly. “I want you to protect her.” Bringing out a map, he pointed to an empty space. “I have renovated an old abandoned castle in the forest here. What I ask is that you guard the princess with your life, keeping her safe, and filtering out her suitors.”

“Filtering out her suitors?”

Shrugging, Phillip continued. “I plan to make a proclamation that only one who can defeat the dragon can marry the princess.”

The atmosphere around us grew colder at his words. “Not that I’m saying you can be defeated, dragon, but that when you find someone worthy of the girl, that you… pretend to lose.”

“Lose.” I tested out the foreign words, displeased with its taste in my mouth. “Sacrifice my pride as a dragon?”

“But then your life debt to me will be completed, I promise.”

This was a conundrum. If I pretended to lose to a mere human I would sacrifice my pride, but if I reneged on my life debt then what pride did I have to sacrifice? I nodded slowly. “I will do this.”

“Thank you my friend.” His face was relieved, but his eyes remained cold, as if staring at a corpse.

“If that is all, I will take my leave.” I turned to go, but his words stopped me in my tracks.

“One last thing!” Now Phillip looked embarrassed. “I trust you dragon, but my court… they were hard to convince.”

“…” I waited silently for him to complete his request, and he seemed even more uncomfortable with my lack of reaction. “To be honest… the only way I could get them to agree, is if you wear this:” He opened a nearby golden chest. I snorted at the vanity of the yellow metal he loved so much, but froze at the sight of the object within it. Hurt, I stared at him, the betrayal I felt clear, and he flushed with shame. “I’m sorry, dragon. I swear it is only temporary.”

“You would have me wear this?” My voice was filled with rage, but I kept my face calm. There was no reason to strike out, although every instinct urged me to

“It has only two conditions. You cannot harm the princess, and you must guard the castle until the princess is rescued.”

I looked into his eyes, but he didn’t flinch. I wanted to rage, to tear him limb from limb for his arrogance, his deceit, but I didn’t. This was part of my life debt. I would repay him, no matter what.

I reached down towards the disgusting object, my skin crawling as I made contact with the cold, dark metal.

It was a collar.

Crafted with dark magic, it was used to control slaves and magical beasts. Simple conditions could be woven into the magic, and only once these condition were met would the collar fall off. As I touched it, my magic coiled around the object, informing me of the conditions for its release. My gaze grew cold, but I stayed silent as I latched the metal into place around my neck. It was almost too tight, but at least the magic within it would allow it to grow or shrink with me when I transformed.

“With this favor, we are even.”

“Yes dragon, finally you will repay your debt.” He smiled as I did, but neither of us meant it. “Would you like to stay for tea before you go?”

I leapt out the window. “I only drink tea with friends.”

With that, I was gone, my suddenly appearing wings carrying me over to the abandoned castle where I would find my new home.

Two years later.

“YOU STUPID BEAST, WHY DID YOU DRIVE HIM OFF?!!” The princess screamed at me, her face red with rage.

I sighed quietly, reminding myself of my debt before forcing my voice out in a calm tone.

“He was an evil man, one known to murder the innocent and steal from the weak. I did you humans a favor by killing him.”

The girl was unappeased by my answer. “Idiot monster! He was a crown prince! It was a good match!”

“I promised your father to only lower my head to someone worthy of you.” I rolled my eyes, pushing away the thought that no one deserved to be trapped with her.

“I have been here for two years! TWO YEARS!” Pointing a finger at my face, she grinned cruelly. “Pretend to lose to the next man who comes, or I will tell my father to activate that collar around your neck.”

“The conditions for activation have already been set, human girl.” I smiled. “I cannot harm you, and you must be rescued before it can be removed. Or are you saying that there is a hidden condition I don’t know about?”

My mild words scared her, her face paled and her eyes darted around nervously. “O-of course not! I’m just frustrated, dragon. You can ignore my silly words.”

I held back a sigh of disappointment.

She knew.

The collar was not what it seemed to be. Deep down, I hoped this unpleasant girl was innocent, unaware of her father’s evil schemes. However, from her words and actions just now, it seems she was a co-conspirator.

“I will go out to the town to buy food. Is there anything you would like?” I asked calmly, pretending to overlook her mistake.

“I want a husband.”

“Very well, I will see what I can find.” With a smile, I was out the door and headed for the nearest town.

When I arrived in town, the man who tended the stall I bought food from was engrossed in conversation.

“You have to be careful, stranger, word is that there is a castle in these nearby woods with a monster living in it! It guards a beautiful princess, killing all who come nearby. The king himself has issued a proclamation that who ever kills the dragon can marry the princess! “ The shopkeep chatted with an unfamiliar male human, a worried expression on his face.

“Thank you for the warning.” The man answered with a broad grin, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “Do you happen to know where the adventurer’s guild is?”

“I can take you there.” I stepped forward, curious about the new arrival.

The young man was tall, his dark hair tied back behind his head to keep it out of the way. In the thirty years of living amongst humans, I had learned to distinguish quality of equipment. This man was in the finest of armor, with a sword bearing the personal mark of a blademaster. It would take more than gold to purchase such, it took prestige and ability to wield a blade such as that. Why would such an important and wealthy young man come all the way out to this small village?

I smiled to myself. Looks, like the newest contender for the princess’s hand had arrived.

The human stood tall, his expression tinged with pride, as he looked me up and down.

“How would you be able to enter the Adventurer’s guild? You look weak.”

The surrounding villagers groaned, having gotten used to me receiving these sorts of challenges over the last two years. Quickly in the background money was already exchanging hands in a bet.

I refused to hide my pride as a dragon. “I’m stronger than you.”

“Prove it.”

I couldn’t help it, I burst into delighted laughter. He looked nothing like him, but this man couldn’t help but remind me of my first friend, of Phillip. Thinking of my last conversation with that human, however, my smile faded into sadness. Instead, I cracked my knuckles, wanting to work out some frustration.

“All right then.”

I knocked him out with one blow.

Once he had woken up, he gave me a self-depreciating smile and reached out a hand. I grasped it, helping him to his feet. “Wow, I really underestimated you!” His gaze was bright, lacking the greed and arrogance that the men who came after the princess before him had shown. “You’re an awesome fighter!”

“You aren’t bad yourself.” For a human. I added silently.

“Thanks!” He paused and then reached out his hand again. “I’m Pr… I’m Robert.”

I shook it. “You can call me ‘Dragon.’”

He chuckled “Is that a nickname, a fighting title or something?”

“Of sorts.”

“Well, Dragon, let’s go to the adventurer’s guild!”

I introduced Robert to the guild, allowing him to register. He stated he wanted to get used to the surrounding area, and I volunteered to take a few quests with him. He was a bright, cheerful human, and I enjoyed fighting by his side. Often we would speak while traveling, learning about each other.

“What do you wish for in your life, Dragon?”

I looked up at the sky, touching the collar around my neck which was hidden under my clothes. “Freedom.” All dragons had a purpose, and that had become mine.

He chuckled. “What a novel answer, Dragon. Is someone forcing you to stay in this village against your will?” He cracked his knuckled. “Let me know, I can help you sort the villain out.”

Imagining his face if I told him that the villain he was looking for was the king of this nation, I laughed as well. “What about you, Robert? What is your dream?”

He smiled brightly. “I want to be a great king, just like my father! A wise ruler that people will thrive under! I want my people to be happy, to prosper!”

I patted his shoulder. “That’s a good dream.”

And so the happy days spent together continued.

“Dragon, can I tell you a secret?” After months of taking quests and exploring together, we sat at the guild, having a drink after a long fight that had lasted until evening.

“If you wish.” I had no wish to hear it, but I knew enough of human customs now to know I shouldn’t refuse.

“I’m not here to just be an adventurer.” Robert was drunk, he swayed slightly in his chair as he spoke, his gaze slightly unfocused. “Actually…” he looked side to side to make sure no one else was close enough to hear. “I’m a prince!”

I fought the desire to roll my eyes. He bore the royal crest of the neighboring kingdom on his saddle! Did he really think I hadn’t noticed?

Robert studied my calm expression, pouting. “You don’t seem surprised. Do you not believe me?”

“If you say you are a prince, I believe you.” I answered quietly. His face broke out into a wide smile.

“Thanks! You are a great person!”

I chuckled at his drunken compliments.

“But that’s not all my secrets.” My laughter was cut short at his next whisper.

“Robert…”

“I’m here to slay the dragon, and rescue the princess!” He was still smiling, but I was unable to smile back.

I felt a deep pain in my chest. We had not spent all that much time together, but over the last few months I had grown to respect him as a person. He seemed to lack greed and dishonesty, the traits that had made me despair of ever trusting another human again. We had laughed together, shared stories, guarded each other’s backs… it reminded me of a simpler time, before I understood the darkness underneath the surface of the human world, back when it was just me and Phillip. To hear him say that he would kill me, even if it was unknowingly, struck me silent with pain where I sat.

“If I kill the beast, and rescue Princess Milana, the king has promised me her hand in marriage, which will cement the relations between our two countries!” He grinned excitedly, his slightly red eyes staring off into the distance, but I simply shook my head.

“What if…” The tentative words were not like me, it caught Robert’s attention immediately, drunk as he was.

“What?! What’s wrong?”

“Do you really think you can kill a dragon?”

He puffed out his chest. “Of course! I’m the strongest!” He paused, wincing. “Of course, I guess, the second strongest, next to you. But still, I should be able to slay a simple dragon!”

No, you’re wrong, you’ve already lost to the dragon and just said that you were weaker…

I sighed. “What if the dragon wasn’t just a simple beast?”

“What do you mean? A dragon is a monster!” He rubbed his face, as if trying to clear his head.

“What if the dragon was like… you or me? Could talk, could dream, could hope…”

Could love. The words died silently in my chest.

His face grew serious. “If that were the case… then I would still kill it.”

My hearts hurt again. I rubbed my chest uncomfortably.

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t secure this marriage, my father will name my brother as his successor. I need the alliance from this nation to secure my right to the throne.”

“And this throne is more important to you than a living being?”

“It’s kidnapped a princess, it’s not like that monster is innocent.”

I laughed out loud, a strange, haunted sound. I suppose that’s right. I’m not innocent.

“What’s wrong?” He grinned uncomfortably, “Is this because of your nickname, Dragon? I won’t kill you, just the monster, I promise!”

A second burst of desperate laughter escaped my chest, it sounded like a sob of pain.

“Power, thrones, gold… humans like these things very much, don’t they?”

“Dragon…” Robert trailed off as I stood up.

“I know where the castle is. I will send you directions.”

“You- you do?”

“I do.” I reached out and patted his shoulder. “I wish you luck, friend.”

I started to walk away.

“Hey! After I defeat the dragon, and rescue the princess… you should come back to my kingdom! We can keep going on quests, adventuring just like we have before!” He grew excited as he spoke, but I simply shook my head.

“I’m sorry Robert, I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because I also have to pursue my dream. Goodbye, Robert.” With these words, I left him.

As I walked, the pain in my chest moved to my eyes, causing them to water. I cursed the weakness of this human form, running out of sight to transform back into my dragon body. As I flew away, I roared my pain out to the heaven’s suppressing my grief, and looking forward.

I was a dragon. A supreme being of fire and magic. I needed no one.

I informed the princess that night that she would be rescued in the morning. She cheered, clapping her hands excitedly upon finding out that her future husband would be a prince.

I stared at her quietly, unable to suppress my curiosity.

“So we will part tomorrow, the collar’s restriction will be lifted. I will play my part, and my debt to your father will be paid.”

The human girl stared at me, her eyes widening as she realized what my words meant.

Would she speak up? This would be her last chance to speak out, to tell the truth about the collar around my neck, to reach out to the one who had protected her from villains, assassins and thieves for the past two years…

“Well, I’m going to go to sleep, Dragon. I wouldn’t want to be tired for my rescue!” She gave me a wide grin, avoiding my eyes, and scampered upstairs.

I stared after her, feeling a sense of disappointment

I flew away in the night searching for magic within the deep forests and lakes. Catching wind of a spark, I landed down within a clearing, standing just outside a fairy ring.

“Mighty dragon, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The fairy queen stepped out, still dancing under the moonlight as if to a silent tune.

“I have come to make a trade.”

“Your kind rule over all that is magical and all that is not. You take what you want and give what you want.” Her tiny face was confused. “What can I trade with you?”

I let out a sigh, lowering my head until we were eye to eye. “I have been betrayed.”

“What…?” She trailed over, her silver eyes widening upon seeing the black metal around my neck. “Who in this world could collar you?”

“I put it around my own neck to pay a life debt.”

A long sigh came from the fairy queen. “What a waste of a life debt. If the human was smart he would have asked for one of your hearts, or a cup of your blood.” Studying it closer she frowned. “The conditions of this dark magic…”

“Yes, to never hurt the princess, to only be freed upon her rescue…”

“But the third condition…”

I cut her off. “I’m well aware of the third condition.”

“Those bastards!” She cursed, crying glowing tears as she stared at the collar around my neck as if it were a noose. “What can I do?”

I smiled. “I’ve spent many years among humans, I’ve studied them, lived among them… I know what they value most. I will make them drown in regret for what they have done.”

“But how?”

I handed her a jar, that glowed with an eerie silver light. She glanced at it, her face turning purple as she realized what it held.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“Shush. You only need to hold onto it.” I soothed the fairy with a laugh. “When the collar’s magic is complete, please return it to me. In return I will give you 3 drops of my blood. One now, and two upon completion.”

She shook her head. “I don’t dare take that high of payment this simple task.”

“Good, because I have two more tasks for you.”

We placed our heads together and planned quietly through the night.

“Dragon! Come out! I, Prince Robert, have come to face you!” A familiar voice called out from the castle’s entrance. I sighed quietly, even if I expected it, it was still painful to confront him like this. I spread my wings, lifting my dragon form into the air, landing in front of him quietly.

“What do you want, human?” I asked him.

He started, confused for a moment. “You can talk?”

I laughed bitterly. “I am a dragon, a supreme being of fire and magic. Did you think I was a simple beast?”

“N- No.” He shook his head. “Dragon or no, I have come to rescue the princess today.”

“And what if I release her without a fight?” I stared at him seriously, and he grew uncomfortable.

“Y- You can’t do that.”

“Why not? If I release her, will you leave without my head?”

Robert paused, seeming to think it over, and then shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” I knew his reasons, but some perverseness within me made me want to hear him say it out loud.

“YOU… you must pay for your crimes!” He turned red and stammered as he spoke, unused to lying.

I chuckled. “So you must slay the dragon to prove your worth as the future king. The princess matters very little to you.”

“No! I need the marriage too!” He stopped, clapping a hand to his mouth. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine, she has not heard you. I will call her out now. “ I whistled a wind spell, opening the doors and lifting the princess to come to rest on the ground half-way between us. She looked hopefully at Robert, squeezing out a few fake tears.

“My hero!”

Her sweet falsetto caused him to smile at her. I watched them both, wishing to rub my chest which hurt.

“Human!” I called out, not having to fake my irritation. “If you have come to fight, let us fight.”

Robert nodded, notching back an arrow and aiming it at my chest.

It bounced off my scales and clattered to the ground.

I sighed. “You aren’t making this easy.” With that, I transformed into my human form.

Seeing me, he yelled, confused. “Dragon? Why are you here… this has to be an illusion!”

I smiled sadly. “I told you from the start to call me ‘dragon’ and you still did not understand?”

“You- you’re…”

“I am your friend, the one who has fought side by side with you the past few months.” I spread my arms wide, leaving myself open to attack. “I am also the dragon which guards the princess. To kill one is to kill the other.”

Robert retreated a few steps, shaking with shock. The princess saw his reluctance and called out. “Hurry up and fight that horrible monster!”

Monster? I saw him mouth the word as if confused.

“Don’t you have a dream?” I asked him quietly?

His eyes slowly cleared, and his hands steadied. The arrow was aimed at my chest.

“I’m sorry, Dragon.”

I smiled. “I won’t forgive you.”

He let loose the arrow, and it struck me between my upper ribs. I fell backwards with a groan.

“There, princess, I have saved you. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” She called out, angry. “Do you really think one arrow is enough to kill a dragon?!”

The both turned towards me, who had sat up, and casually pulled the arrow out. “I am too weak to continue, brave prince.” My voice was mocking, my eyes cold. “I yield, and declare you the winner. You may take the princess.”

Robert hesitated only a moment, and then nodded. “Then I will take her away, dragon.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but held back. With his acceptance of his win, however, it was enough.

The collar around my neck glowed. I sighed with relief.

“What’s happening?” Robert was confused.

“I have been collared by the king to repay a life debt.” I laughed softly. “The first of the collar is that I could never harm the princess. The second is that I must guard her until she is rescued and only then would the collar’s magic be complete.”

“So you are free?” He asked with a hopeful expression.

“If only the world were so kind, isn’t that right princess?” I called out the young woman, who sneered at me from where she hid behind the prince.

“Milana? What does Dragon mean?”

“Yes, princess, do you want to tell him about the secret condition you and your father hid from me?” I paused, listening to the magic of the collar as it activated. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, you’ll see soon enough. “ I changed into my dragon form.

“What are you…?”

“I don’t wish to die in another form. I will die as a dragon.”

“Die…?” Robert was pale, he stepped closer only to be pulled back by the princess.

A bright light poured out from the collar, enveloping me. I felt its magic sink into my flesh, seeking my heart, to stop it.

The third condition.

When the princess was rescued, and the collar’s magic was completed. I would die. Only then would the collar come off and I would be free.

“Goodbye.”

I was unsure who I was saying it to. Robert? The princess? Phillip?

I thought I heard someone cry out: “DON’T GO!” but before I could look in that direction, darkness over came me. The magic entered my heart, stopping it in place.

And at the foot of the castle, next to the prince and the princess he rescued… I died.

Pain.

Pain in my chest was the first thing I felt again. I tried to open my eyes, the light of the sun blinding me.

“Ouch.”

I blinked a few times, focusing on the tiny form in front of my chest, her hand buried deep within the flesh.

“Thank you Fairy Queen.”

She smiled and retrieved her hand. “You’re welcome, Dragon. We had a deal, after all.”

“Any problems?”

She gestured behind her back. “The human was noisy. The male one. He kept crying and screaming about how he betrayed you and deserved death. The female immediately started talking about draining your blood for her father. I assume that is why they wanted you dead.” She thought it over. “Should I kill them?”

I shook my head, wincing as the motion pulled at my open chest wound the fairy had just made. “No need.”

“DRAGON?” Robert cried out, tears on his face. He rushed forward, staring at me with wide eyes. “How are you alive? I thought…”

“That the magic of the collar had killed me?” I glanced down at the pieces of dark metal on the ground and let out a flame, melting it into a puddle. “It did.”

“Then how are you alive?” The princess was upset.

The fairy laughed. “Foolish humans. All creatures know that dragons have two hearts. The magic only affected the one in the chest, while I had the second one given to me last night!” She pointed at my wound within a silver heart beat loudly. “It only needed to be replaced. “

“That’s enough, fairy.” I sighed as she used magic to close up the scales of my chest, hiding my heart from view. I felt safer without it exposed. “Did you do the other tasks I asked you?”

She grinned mischievously. “That I did, mighty dragon.”

“What did you…?” Robert started to ask, but stopped, as if unsure if he should continue.

“I will tell you, human.” I no longer called him by his name. He was no longer a friend, like Phillip or his daughter. “My time amongst humans has taught me much. You all spout ideals of love, and hope and light. But in the end, you care for only two things: power and gold.”

“I-“ He seemed to want to argue, but fell silent.

“I will simply take the things you love.”

Now the princess looked concerned. “What do you mean?”

The fairy leaned back, cackling with glee. “We took all the gold in the castle vaults! Every last piece! We rotted all the wood on your weapons, rendering your armies useless, and turned your thrones into dust.” She glanced at Robert. “Your kingdom too.”

The princess fell down, her face pale. “All of the gold is gone?”

“It belongs to me.” I smiled, “I have no use for it, but I will decorate my lair with it, and enjoy looking at something that you care so much for being in my possession.”

“But…”

“You are always free to try to take it from me, if you dare.” My smile turned cold. “But know this: I am a dragon. I will not be challenged lightly. I have been merciful, but no longer. If you come searching for your gold, be prepared to lose your life.”

“Dragon.” Robert whispered my name as if it meant something, his face sad.

I spread my wings and lifted into the air, ignoring him. Flying over the kingdoms, I let out roar after roar. It was a shout a joy, of being alive again. Of challenge for all who would oppose me.

Finally I came to my lair, the small cave I had been born in that had now been dug into an enormous cavern. I settled within it, looking with satisfaction at the sparkling golden pieces that decorated every inch of my lair. I made a nest among it, falling asleep within the piles.

I hoped they would try and take it. I looked forward to their attempts.

I would kill them all.

I was a dragon. A creature born of fire and magic. I paid my debts, protected my pride. And now…

I was home.

#writing #short story #dragon #magic #betrayal #fairies #death #life #something different #submission

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sarcastic-scribbles · 7 years

Text

as if we were in love~

Possessive Marinette

Chat Noir shuffled through the filing cabinet as quietly as possible, guessing that a person as careful as this - two alarm systems, separate locks with different keys on the windows and doors, a combination simply to get into the filing cabinet - would have some extra cash hidden away somewhere. He’d managed to find a few extra bills stuck under the dining room hutch, but the real stash would be hidden far better than that. Sure enough, in the far back of the second drawer, a large stack of bills were tucked away. Chat grinned and snatched up the money, placing it in his bag along with the previous bills and a few pieces of jewelry he’d found between the couch cushions. He’d chosen to ignore the plastic bags of white powder there as well.

Plagg couldn’t make it to this heist, claiming he had “business to take care of” before he ducked out of their hideout without another word. Chat wondered if this “business” had anything to do with the late night disappearances and mysteriously appearing bruises and gashes. The last time he caught Plagg wrapping up a wound he most certainly hadn’t gotten during any of their outings, though, Plagg had gotten defensive, yelling and cursing and telling him to mind his own business. It was strange, strange enough to worry Chat, and make him wonder.

Though he had never gone into details with Chat about why he needed the money so badly, Chat did know he owed quite a large sum and that almost all of Plagg’s share of their loot went to this anonymous person. He had guessed for some time now that the creditor was not of a kind, forgiving nature, which explained Plagg’s eagerness to pay back his debt as quickly as possible. Chat just wished he could do something to help. Were it not for his own problems, he would insist Plagg take the whole share.

After doing one last check around the house in case he had missed anything, Chat reset the alarms and slipped out the back window, his bag slipped around his shoulders as he clambered up to the roof. The height was freeing, the nightlife buzzing beneath him. Even so late, people were running around the streets, chatting amongst themselves. Car horns blared, bugs hummed, and music pumped from a few blocks down. He stood above it all, taking it in, looking over his city (for it was his, in one way or another). Chat took a deep breath, coughing for a moment from the scent of smoke filling his lungs. When he turned, covering his mouth, his eyes met bluebell ones behind a red mask.

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug hummed, placing a hand on her hip. She was missing the coy grin he had grown accustomed to whenever he saw her, like she knew something he didn’t. Instead, she appeared almost sad, a frown tugging down the corners of her lips.

He didn’t like that, curiosity making him quirk a brow, but he played along for now. “My Lady! What brings you here on a fine night such as this?”

The nickname made her stiffen, shoulders tense as her hand rested on her gun. Then it was gone, the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. “Thought I saw a suspicious character. Turns out it was just an alley cat.” Before he could respond, she continued, growing far more serious. “Why are you doing this, Chat?”

It was his turn to freeze, emerald eyes flashing to hers in surprise. Nevertheless, he shook it off, barrelling ahead in their usual banter. “Are we on a first name basis now, my Lady? I’m afraid I never caught yours.”

Ladybug crossed her arms, ending the fun before it began. “This isn’t you. I don’t believe… I know this isn’t the type of person you are. Why are you doing this? What made someone like you turn to this?”

The hair on the back of his neck stood on edge, his playful grin curling into a scowl. What right did she have, acting like she understood him? “You don’t know me at all, Ladybug,” Chat spit angrily. “Don’t pretend you do. You know nothing about me.”

“Help me understand.” She took a step toward him, her outstretched hand like a dangling fishhook. It looked so innocent, so easy to take her hand and spill everything, as if she could answer all of his problems. But he knew that it was only a trap, for the moment he took her hand, she would slap on the handcuffs and ruin everything. All he had worked for would be lost. So he stepped back, snarling.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you? You think you can just act like you care, like you can understand me, and I’ll just give into your tricks. I’m not an idiot, Bug.”

“There’s no trick, I promise.” Ladybug continued stepping forward and him back, until his feet reached the edge of the roof. Her hand was still held out, and for a moment he was reminded of Marinette, offering her hand the other night after one of her favorite songs had come on the radio. Chat had taken her hand and led his princess around her living room in a slow dance. They had smiled and giggled at their missteps and trip-ups; he had teased her two left feet, and she had playfully scolded him for stepping on said feet. Her fingers had threaded through his perfectly; her outstretched hand had been a lifeline to his own little world of happiness.

Ladybug was nothing like Marinette.

Chat had people he cared about. He would not let her keep him from returning to those he loved. Something snapped, and he drew his gun. She didn’t notice at first, still trying to draw him into her trap.

“Please, Chat, this isn’t you, I know-”

“Shut up shut up shut up!” Chat surged forward, knocking her arm away and grabbing the front of her shirt, his gun pressed against her temple. “You don’t know me, and you never will! Stop pretending to care about me! Stop acting like I matter to you! I know I’m just your next case. I know this will end soon enough, but I’m not giving up so easily. You have no idea what I have at stake here!” His finger curled around the trigger, his hand shaking as her wide eyes meet his.

His heart stopped for a moment at the fear swimming in her eyes, the tears trickling down her cheeks. His grip was loose on her shirt; she could have easily pulled away if she wanted to. And yet she stood there, waiting for him to move, not putting up a fight. Ladybug was shaking as much as he was, but she didn’t knock the gun out of his hand, pin him to the ground, and end it here and now. Why wasn’t she stopping him? Did she not fear death?

Or did she simply trust him not to send her to her grave?

In that moment, he didn’t see the officer on his tail after his arrest. He didn’t see the cute cop he’d flirt with just to have a bit of fun. He didn’t see years behind bars.

He saw his princess, Marinette, peeking up at him with rosy cheeks and a stuffy nose as she hugged him, whispering that she missed him. He saw the woman he’d saved from being stabbed, who he hadn’t needed to think twice about stepping in front of despite what may happen, because he couldn’t bear to watch her get hurt. He saw his mother, holding his hand and telling him that she was proud of him no matter what. He saw an incomprehensible, unbelievable trust in her eyes, as if she knew that he would do the right thing, and he saw a woman he had grown to care for, as strange as it was.

Ladybug wasn’t Marinette, but she was late night banter and chases across the city. She was confident grins and a spike of adrenaline and meaningless flirts. She was freedom; she was the thrill of danger and recklessness. She was his Lady.

And he was holding a gun to her head.

With a ragged gasp, Chat reeled back, shoving his gun back in its holster. He trembled, staring at Ladybug with disbelief. What had he almost done?

Ladybug took a small step forward, opening her mouth to say something but he didn’t give her a chance to. Chat dropped his bag and kicked it towards her, shuddering and shaking as he tugged his hood further down on his head. She picked up the bag slowly, shooting him a confused look he didn’t catch as he rushed past her, scrambling off the roof and toward the streets below. He didn’t dare look back, shame and guilt slowly suffocating him, crushing his heart with the weight. He ignored Ladybug’s voice, echoing through the night, calling for him to come back, to wait. She was running after him, but she was too far behind and he was too good at blending into the darkness. He ran blindly, holding his hood close to his face, and disappeared from her sight. Her echoes carried on.

When he reached the hideout, he collapsed onto his cot and curled into a tight ball, letting the guilt rip him up from the inside out. Gut-wrenching sobs shook his body, tears streaming down his face and wetting his pillow. He cried for hours, wheezing like a dying man, choking on spit and snot and the taste of salt in his mouth.

Plagg found Adrien late that night, his right eye black and swollen. He pressed his lips into a thin line and stepped over to his kid, sighing through his nose. He had never been good with words, but he sat next to Adrien and touched his back. Plagg listened to Adrien’s whimpers, his claims that he was evil, a monster, how he deserved to be locked up and never let out because who held a gun at someone they cared about? He offered a tissue when the sobs at last turned to noisy snuffles and sniffles, frowning when he listened to Adrien explain what happened with a raw and broken voice. He was ashamed, he was horrified, and Plagg found himself lacking the proper words.

He couldn’t offer any advice, couldn’t reassure Adrien that he wasn’t the nightmare he thought he had become. He saw it in himself, after all, and only blamed himself for Adrien following his example. Even if he kept Adrien out of Hawkmoth’s reach, Plagg couldn’t protect him from what a life of crime would turn him into. He couldn’t prevent the corruption from taking away Adrien’s compassion and kindness and twisting it into selfishness and manipulation. His kid was blindly following in his footsteps, and there was nothing he could do. So Plagg stayed by Adrien’s side as he cried, offering his presence as comfort when he didn’t know what to say.

He wondered, had he not made that deal all those years ago, whether or not Adrien would have turned out better. He knew what Adrien was working so hard to save, why he was willing to risk everything, but even so, was it worth what he was becoming? He was no longer the sniveling sixteen year old he had found on the street. Adrien was his partner, his friend, the kid he had never had. And he had lead him into this life. Would it have been better if he’d never said a word?

No, he knows, because he’d give anything to have Adrien with him. He wouldn’t hurt Adrien like that. He didn’t know if the ends justified the means, but he believed he had made the right decision, even if they were changing for the worse.

“No matter what anyone says, kid,” Plagg murmured long after Adrien, exhausted from crying, had fallen asleep on his cot. “I’ll always be proud of the man you are, even if you don’t look like one by the end of this.”

Buy me a coffee?

#marichat may #possessive marinette #prompt 14 #as if we were in love #marichat #miraculous ladybug #plagg

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