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jellalism · 2 years

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Genshin x GN!Reader fic: First kisses

It's obvious that he wants to kiss you—and that the feeling is mutual—but you feel obligated to tell the truth beforehand.

“I’ve never actually kissed someone.”

How would various Genshin men react?

Characters: Albedo – Alhaitham – Ayato – Childe – Cyno – Diluc – Gorou – Kazuha – Kaeya – Tighnari – Xiao – Zhongli

Word count: 1996

Content warning: Ayato's part gets a little suggestive.

Notes: Reader is gender neutral.

Read below or on AO3.

Albedo

“Neither have I. I’m interested to know what it’s like.”

“That’s…” You chuckle, not finishing your sentence. That curiosity is so typical of him; curiosity about what it is to be human.

“Oh, but don’t get me wrong. I would not do it with just anyone. But you… you are special. I’m curious about you—what it would be like to kiss you, among other things.”

How can he say that with a straight face? you wonder. Still, you can’t help but smile. “I’d be more than happy to satisfy your curiosity, Albedo.”

His eyes light up. “Well then, if you allow me…” His gloved hand moves to cup your cheek as he leans in. You close your eyes, his warmth floating towards you in the darkness. Then, you feel something on your lips. Albedo’s lips seem to brush yours, barely even touching them—not wanting to take more than his share, more than you let him. Then he pulls away again—leaving you hungering for more.

"Was that okay?” he whispers.

“It wasn’t enough. Try again.”

Alhaitham

“You needn’t worry about that. I can teach you all about it.”

Before you can react, his lips are already on yours. You’re surprised at first, but soon enough, you let him lead. His hand rests firmly at the nape of your neck. Not in a forceful way, but in a way that makes you feel held close, safe. While his tongue doesn’t enter your mouth, it’s not any less passionate. He holds the kiss and plays around with your lips, exploring every part of them. You don’t mind. Despite the intensity, you feel there’s a part of him that’s holding back. Alhaitham always seems so composed, but the way he devours your lips makes him seem like he’s a dam that’s about to burst.

When your lips finally part, you look at each other and remain silent for a moment.

Alhaitham is the first to break the silence. “That was the first lesson. If you’d like, I can continue teaching you.”

You feel your cheeks flush.

Ayato

“You haven’t? How particular of you.” He smirks.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s quite uncommon to find someone your age who hasn’t had such an experience yet. Of course, there is nothing wrong with it. In fact…” he trails off.

“In fact, what?”

“I think I rather like the idea that you haven’t kissed anyone yet. I should like to be the first.” He winks. He tries to surreptitiously place his hand on your back. You notice but pretend not to. When his hand finds its place, he pulls you close. “Let me be the first, won’t you?” You don’t resist, and he closes in. His lips on yours, so sweetly. His tongue—his tongue slides its way inside your mouth. You hadn’t expected that, but maybe you should have, knowing Ayato. His tongue against yours feels weird yet infinitely intimate. The corners of his mouth curl in a smile. It seems Ayato’s aim is to inspect every nook and cranny of your mouth, the way his tongue travels through it, brushing against yours all the while.

When you feel it’s enough, you make a little sound, but Ayato hasn’t had enough yet. He continues for a bit, still smirking—he does have a sadistic streak. You let him. You’re his, and his alone. When Ayato finally breaks off the kiss—on his own terms—he holds your face between his hands, thumbs playing with your lips. “Now, I’ve made you mine. Properly.”

Childe

“Comrade, you know me. I promise I’ll be gentle, so there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“… Alright. Then…” Kiss me, you want to say, but it feels too embarrassing to say it out loud. You can’t even look him in the eye.

Fortunately, Childe seems to understand but asks just to be sure. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, still not able to look him in the eye. But he hooks his finger under your chin, forcing your head up, to look at him. “Close your eyes.” You obey. He presses his lips on yours—like he promised, he is gentle. He lingers a little while, getting a good taste of your lips, and you get a good taste of his—it tastes like that Snezhnayan liquor he’s fond of—before finally moving away. “Now, that was pretty nice, if I say so myself. Agreed?”

“Yeah,” you say, burying yourself in his embrace. Harbinger or not, he’s a warmer and kinder person than most people think.

Cyno

“And?”

That answer hits you out of nowhere. “I, uhh… I don’t know. I thought you should know? To make sure you won’t be disappointed in my… skills…”

He sighs. “Look, y/n. It doesn’t matter to me. I want to kiss you because I want to feel close to you. Because I care about you. I’m not one of those guys who just kiss for the physical sensation of it. It’s not about the kiss, it’s about you.”

A moment of silence falls.

“May I? You don’t need to worry about not doing it right. I just want to feel close to you. You’re dear to me.”

You nod. “You may.”

And he presses his lips on yours. Just for a moment. Then he moves into a hug. “You’re warm. It’s nice.”

Diluc

“Are you nervous?” He smiles. “No need to be.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint you or anything,” you say.

“You could never disappoint me, love. Now…” he pauses for a moment. His hand is already on your cheek, his thumb on your lips. His entire face asks “May I kiss you?”, though he doesn’t speak the words.

You feel hot, as you give a barely noticeable nod. Diluc moves in slowly, closing his eyes – you close yours too. First, his breath tickles your face, but then you feel him on your lips. Carefully and gently at first, but soon enough, the kiss grows more passionate. His mouth is firmly planted on yours. One hand is on your cheekbone; the other on your lower back, pulling you closer. He can’t seem to get enough, and you don’t mind either—until you do. You gently pull away, and he lets you. All you can say is, “wow”.

He smirks—a rare occurrence. “I told you there was no need to be nervous. I think that was great.”

Gorou

His ears perk up in surprise. “Oh, is that so? Well, don’t worry! There’s a first time for everything, right?”

His openness puts you right at ease again. “You’re right. Thanks for understanding.”

“So… would you, maybe… darn it, how do I put this?” He fumbles with his words, cheeks flushing red. He doesn’t mean to be, but you always find him so cute.

Instead of letting him continue to fumble, you hold his face in your hands and press your lips on his. “You shouldn’t worry too much, either.”

“Y-yeah…” he mumbles, eyes downcast in embarrassment. But he quickly recovers. “Well, then…” This time, he’s the one to initiate the kiss. He trembles a little bit—excitement, probably. He tastes sweet, like lavender melon. Before you know it the kiss is over.

“I hope your first kiss didn’t disappoint, and… thank you for letting me have the honor.”

Kaeya

“Oh? Who would’ve thought that someone as lovely as you would still be so innocent?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you grumble while failing to suppress a smile.

“See? That cute smile of yours… I would’ve kissed that a thousand times by now if I could.”

His cocky comments awaken something in you, a need to tease right back. “Then you need to start making up for lost time.”

You don’t need to say that twice. In the blink of an eye, he stands right in front of you, hand cupping your cheek, and moving his mouth towards yours. You close your eyes and lean in ever so slightly as well. Then you feel his lips… on your forehead. You open your eyes again. Kaeya is looking at you triumphantly. “Wasn’t enough?”

Instead of answering, you are now the one to move to him, and press your lips on his. He seems taken aback at first, but quickly recovers and eases up. When you pull away again, Kaeya moves his mouth to your ear and whispers, “That’s one down, 999 more to go.”

Kazuha

He smiles, head slightly tilted. He says nothing, but his eyes speak for him. “It matters not,” they say. He slides towards you, and you open your arms for him to enter. He doesn’t go for the kiss, but just lets himself be enveloped by you. His arms wrap around your back, as well. It’s a calming hug – Kazuha is fond of those, loving to be touched by you. His skin is soft, it always manages to make you feel at ease.

He untangles himself a little, just enough so he can look at your face. “You’re beautiful.” His earnest words make you blush. You’re tempted to say “you too,” because he is beautiful, but a phrase like that feels awkward and dishonest when he said it first. Then, quietly, with a whisper that you almost miss, he says, “kiss me”.

Oh, he is adorable, you think.

Then you press your lips on his.

Tighnari

“Oh, you’re worried about that somehow? No need to be. Everyone has to have their first kiss sooner or later—or at least, those who get around to kissing at all.” Tighnari states it so matter-of-factly that it’s hard to argue with him. Still, a part of you remains uneasy.

“And you don’t mind? At all? Maybe I’m not… good at it?”

“Hey.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Stop that. You’re dear to me. How good you are at kissing is inconsequential. It’s not about skill, it’s about – love.” He paused before speaking that last word. He moved from speaking facts to speaking feelings. “I love you, and nothing can change that. Got that?”

“Mm-mm,” you nod.

“Good. Now, may I?”

You nod again. He places his lips upon yours.

Xiao

“… And?”

“Well, I don’t know… Maybe you expect skill from me that I don’t have.”

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “You needn’t concern yourself about that.”

“But…” you can’t help but begin, but you’re not sure what it is you mean to say, and so you trail off without having said anything.

“But what?”

“You can tell me not to concern myself about it, but I do it anyway. I want to please you, Xiao.”

Xiao isn’t an expressive man, so his expression of slight surprise must indicate his absolute shock. “I.. I…” he stammers. It’s rare to see him like this. “I’m already happy to have you by my side. It’s ridiculous to think I’d be disappointed over something like you not being good at kissing.”

“Oh, I see.” You feel reassured by his uncharacteristic honesty. “So… Do you want to?”

“To... kiss?” He seems a little flustered, but you don’t let that stop you.

“Yes. Please kiss me.”

His expression grows more confident. He pulls you close and kisses you.

Zhongli

“That’s not so strange, is it?”

“I suppose not, but… you won’t be disappointed?”

“Honey, you could never disappoint me.” He holds out his hand. As you take it, he pulls you closer, making you sit on his lap. “I don’t mean to pressure you, so feel free to pull away any time. But…” he moves his mouth to your ear, “may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you answer softly.

Zhongli places a kiss on your cheek before moving to your mouth. He is slow and careful, taking his time. It’s not passionate, but somehow still intense – like he savors every moment. When you finally pull away, he looks at you with eyes full of love. “I hope that was to your liking. It was to mine, in any case.”

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lex-the-flex · 4 months

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Here With Me

Luke Skywalker x reader

Summary: Acting on instinct, Luke Skywalker has to let go of control, even if it means saving someone he loves.

Word Count: 970

Warning(s): HEAVY ANGST, descriptions of torture, injuries, and mentions of the Dark Side, Luke unleashing literal hell + tampering with pure rage, action and violence, (only the destruction of Dark Troopers) MEGA FLUFF, Luke being a dutiful Jedi Master, and love is powerful than the Dark Side.

A/N: Got this idea from @winterinspace and I LOVE IT! I can totally see Luke doing this for anyone he cares about. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

Tears formed in your eyes as you let out a scream like no other. Your vocal cords strained from the effort while the rest of your body went numb to the pain. Your face remained drenched in sweat and the lingering taste of iron coated your tongue.

Even through gritted teeth, you refused to give the Empire what they wanted. You wouldn't spill the information on where you last saw Luke Skywalker -- or where he was going.

To the Dark Troopers, you were just toying with them, allowing them to make a fool of themselves. However, you truly didn't know where Luke was. One night he suddenly vanished from the Rebellion without any warning and you were put on the front line, much to Leia's dismay.

"Alright, R2. I'm here." He informed the droid.

Waking from the quick meditative nap, Luke's eyes adjusted to the vast darkness of space, praying that the compass' intention was true. Otherwise, he'd lose you forever.

On the X-Wing's computer, the coordinates for the suspected planet appeared, and they only made Luke's demeanor remain the same: get you and get out, no matter the cost.

Descending through the planet's atmosphere, a distinct series of embers began to light up beneath Luke's icy blue eyes, fueling the man with a strong fury. Jumping down from the ship's ladder, he hit the ground with such a strong force, it caused the ground to crack below him.

Unzipping the orange jumpsuit, his raven-like robes escaped from the plastic zipper, revealing his Mastery to no one but the mountainside. Unsheathing the dark cloak from the storage shelf, the piece of

fabric flowed in the cool breeze once Luke draped it over his shoulders. Unhooking the silver and gold lightsaber at his hip, Luke headed down the mountain with a single command.

"Stay here, R2. I'll be right back."

****

The facility's nature surrounded the halls with an eerie silence, it nearly caught Luke off guard. He expected to have gone through at least a great majority of the base with half of its inhabitants on the floor. Quietly shaking those thoughts from his head, Luke knew he couldn’t go that route; to the Dark Side. As did his Father all those years ago. But now, he had no choice.

Ducking in a hidden alcove, Luke patiently sat against the wall. Stalling his breathing, he focused with the Force, surrendering to its blissfulness in a daze.

In and out.

Concentrating, his dark brow fluttered and scrunched together just as the vision of you filled the darkness behind his eyelids. You were all alone in a cell, shaking from the pain with cuts and bruises all over your exposed skin. Barely hugging your legs, your head sat on your cut up knees, hoping to find some solace in this place.

'You are not alone in this fight, Y/N. I'm here for you.'

Lifting your head to his declaration, your eyes welled with tears at the sight of two Dark Troopers standing at the cell's door.

'Luke, no...'

"No, please don't--" You pleaded, but it was too late.

Suddenly, a painful scream left the pits of your lungs once a taser was shoved into your side. Luke unconsciously balled his fists together, remembering a similar pain he left, where the Emperor himself left the young man hideously scarred. The pain you endured mirrored his own and Luke swore never again.

Opening his eyes to the empty hallway, his once calm and passionate soul-piercing eyes shifted within seconds. While they remained blue, all he saw was red. Something buried deep inside his chest, his heart had finally snapped.

And everyone in this facility had to pay.

Rounding the corner to the prison block, Luke ignited his green plasma blade, not even caring who was on the other side. HIs anger rose up in an untamed fury whilst a wave of adrenaline coursed through his veins. The two droids rounded you up by the wrists and drug you to the middle of prison, ready to strike again.

Luke marched through the hallway with heavy steps, instantly blocking the rain of blaster fire that was impending down on him. Working his way past each of the Troopers, Luke pulled, shoved, and deflected every single shot, punch, and kick that would slow him down. With each defeated sound and whimper that left your chapped lips was more than enough to fuel his angry attacks.

Moving swiftly down the hall, Luke slammed his lightsaber down on the remaining Dark Trooper who laid on the floor. Hitting the cold and dark metal again and again, the hot plasma beam cut through the machine like butter, making a cold and heartbreaking memory creep into the back of his mind.

'You will not take her from me!'

Entering the main section of the prison, Luke was greeted with the sight of the two Troopers repeatedly pounding their mechanical hands and butt ends of their blasters into your broken skin. Then, in a flash, the pain stopped, and you were greeted by the sight of the Dark Troopers crunched into tiny pieces on the floor.

Gazing up at Luke, his breath remained as frigid gasps once he realized what he had done. Seeing the utter fear in your e/c eyes brought him back to the world, making him understand that he tampered with the Dark Side. His fury and rage fueled him like no other, allowing him to part his enemies like the ocean. And you were his saving grace.

Feeling tears well up in his eyes, he calmly walked over to you, and gently picked you up without a word. Silently carrying your sore and nearly broken body, Luke's heart began to heal and mend itself back together, leaving behind an unspoken wake of destruction in his path.

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grangerhater · 9 months

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UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIPS

pairing: blaise zabini x gryffindor!reader

synopsis: a snob like Blaise and an introvert like y/n could never be friends, yet the form a bond in which they both learn and grow

platonic

The Great Hall was bustling with students, their voices echoing off the high ceilings as they chatted animatedly over breakfast. Amongst the crowd, Blaise Zabini sat at the Slytherin table, his dark eyes scanning the room with an air of superiority. He held himself with confidence, his posture impeccable, as he engaged in conversation with his equally posh friends.

Meanwhile, tucked away at the far end of the Gryffindor table, sat Y/N, a shy and introverted student. Their eyes were downcast, focusing on their plate of food as they ate in silence. Y/N was content to blend into the background, avoiding attention and unnecessary interactions. They were used to being overlooked, and it suited them just fine.

Blaise caught a glimpse of Y/N sitting alone, their nervousness evident in the way they fidgeted with their silverware. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about them. Their reserved nature stood in stark contrast to his own outspoken personality. Blaise found himself inexplicably drawn to the mystery that surrounded Y/N.

Determined to satisfy his curiosity, Blaise decided to approach Y/N. He smoothly made his way towards them, his presence commanding attention as he towered over their small figure. Y/N tensed up, feeling a mix of anxiety and disbelief that someone like Blaise Zabini would even acknowledge their existence.

"Hello there," Blaise said, his voice laced with a hint of arrogance. "I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone. Mind if I join you?"

Y/N's heart raced, their mind struggling to process the unexpected encounter. They managed to nod, barely audibly, and Blaise took a seat across from them. The silence between them was palpable, each lost in their own thoughts.

Blaise, unaccustomed to the quietude, decided to break the ice. "You know, most people would jump at the chance to have a conversation with me. Yet, here you are, seemingly disinterested in my presence."

Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. They were well aware of their introverted nature and the difficulty they faced in social situations. The last thing they wanted was to draw attention to themselves, especially from someone as confident and popular as Blaise.

"Sorry," Y/N mumbled, their voice barely audible. "I'm just not good with talking to people."

Blaise's eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Well, perhaps I can help you with that. Consider it a challenge."

Y/N looked up, their eyes meeting Blaise's intense gaze. They had no idea what he meant by a challenge, but there was something intriguing about the proposition.

"Alright," Y/N whispered, their voice gaining a bit more confidence. "I'm willing to give it a try."

And so, Blaise began a journey of guiding Y/N out of their shell. He took the time to learn about their interests, coaxing them to share their thoughts and opinions. Slowly but surely, Y/N started to open up, their shyness giving way to a newfound sense of self-assurance.

As the weeks went by, Blaise and Y/N formed an unlikely bond. Blaise's snobbish exterior gradually melted away, revealing a kind and patient side that Y/N hadn't expected. Blaise, in turn, discovered the joy of genuine connections rather than superficial ones.

One day, as they sat beneath a large oak tree by the Black Lake, Y/N found the courage to express their gratitude. Looking up at Blaise, who was seated on the grass next to them, they said, "Thank you, Blaise. You've helped me grow so much. I never thought I'd be able to have conversations like this. Before we met, I was so shy and insecure that I could barely talk to anyone. But you never made me feel like I was strange or different in any way. You always accepted me for who I am, and that has made all the difference."

Blaise gave them a soft smile, his eyes crinkling kindly as he looked down at Y/N. "The pleasure is all mine," he said. "You know, Y/N, before we met, I was pretty wrapped up in my own world. Being popular, being the life of the party, always getting my way; that was the only thing that mattered to me. I never really stopped to appreciate the little things in life, what really mattered and made me happy. But being around you has taught me the value of patience and understanding. I've come to realize that there's more to life than just appearances”

As Blaise spoke, Y/N's heart swelled with happiness. They could hardly believe that they had found acceptance from someone like Blaise—one of the most popular and confident students in the whole school. Before meeting him, Y/N had always felt like an outcast, like they didn't belong. But here they were, enjoying a moment of genuine connection with someone who had come to understand them and accept them for who they were.

As the sun set on the Hogwarts grounds, casting a golden glow over the pair, Blaise and Y/N sat in comfortable silence, content in each other's presence. Their journey together had transformed them both, proving that sometimes, the most unlikely friendships could blossom from the unlikeliest of circumstances.

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chuubacca-writes · 8 months

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Hi there! Could I request a smut of Barbatos smut? Oh with male reader. Possessive Barbatos tailfucking his lover?

A/N - sorry it took so long! I just moved and also depression is a bitch. anyway, I did my best here. I've never written for a male reader before but it's such a hard thing to find that I decided to give it a go. The formatting is kinda rough because I wrote this on mobile but i hope I did okay!

Pairing - Barbatos x Male!reader

Summary - Barbatos sees a hickey on your neck and is overcome with the need to claim you as his.

Warnings - SMUT, minors dni, amab reader, male appendages, anal sex, tail play (wtf do you even call that?) handjobs, hickeys, choking (kinda, barb puts his fingers in your mouth), name-calling (reader gets called slut once), lmk if I missed any

Word Count - 1722

Barbatos was restless. It wasn’t a familiar feeling for the demon. he was used to being calm, put together, and stoic. But he couldn’t keep his mind focused on his duties. He nearly spilled Prince Diavlo’s tea. Barbatos never fumbled with tea. It was all because of you. You had come by to have tea with him and the demon prince like you did every once and a while. He always liked it when you came over, it gave him an excuse to sneak sly glances at you when you weren’t looking.

That's what brings us to today. The tea kettle had almost slipped from the demon's gloved fingers and crashed into the young prince’s cup when Barbatos’ sharp eyes caught on the way the collar of your shirt just barely concealed a dark purple bruise at the junction of your shoulder.

A bruise that looked suspiciously like a hickey.

“Are you alright, Barbatos?” Diavlo asked. the prince’s brows furrowed at the uncharacteristic clumsiness of his loyal butler.

Barbatos recovered quickly, his composure sliding easily back into place. “Of course, no need to worry about me,” he reassured with a tight smile. But his mind was racing. Who could have put their hands on you? Which demon took what was his? It sickened him to think about anyone other than him touching you, kissing you, tasting you.

He had to excuse himself from tea that day, unable to look at you without his gaze immediately zoning in on the hickey.

The next time you arrive for tea, Diavlo is nowhere to be found, it's only Barbatos smiling politely and inviting you inside. Even you can tell there’s something different in his smile, but you happily join him for tea anyway.

You watch as Barbatos gestures to the table with an unusually tense smile. you hear the soft click of the lock and turn to see his long, gloved fingers on the doorknob.

“Barbatos what–” you start, confused.

He’s towering over you in a split second, eyes glowing with a possessiveness you’ve never seen before.

His hand hovering over the crook of your neck, the soft fabric of his gloves ghosting over your skin.

You’re breaths come out shallow, eyes blown wide as you stare at the man in front of you.

“What are–”

“Undress.”

Again your words are cut short by his rough voice. the command sending electricity straight between your legs.

Barbatos noticed the growing tent in your pants and his lips curled into a smug smirk. He shook his head, still smiling wickedly. “I’m waiting…”

You have no idea what came over you, but you stood and feverishly scrambled to tear your clothes off.

Barbatos chuckled. his sharp eyes catching on every little detail of your body when you finally stood naked before him. His smirk fell when his gaze landed on that bruise on your neck. He stepped closer. his boots made heavy, dominant thuds as he stalked ever closer to your already trembling body. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and you melt into the feeling, your head pressing into his touch. He would have thought it cute, and endearing if he wasn’t so irritated. Do you give away your affection so easily? Let demons leave hickeys upon your tender, human flesh without a thought? That luxury should belong to him and him alone.

His thumb brushes along your bottom lip and you assume he’s going to pull you into a kiss until he pushes his gloved finger between your teeth. You look up at him, eyes wide and innocent. “Take them off,” Barbatos growls and it takes you a moment to realize he means his gloves. Your teeth bite down on the tip of the glove, careful not to graze his finger. You tug, and he replaces his thumb with his index finger. You repeat the process until his glove falls from your mouth and his bare hand is again grasping the side of your face.

“Good boy.” He purrs before his hand moves to wrap around your throat and pull you close. close enough for his lips to meet yours in a rough kiss. The sound that comes out of you is undignified, but your eyes flutter closed when his forked tongue pushes its way into your mouth. Your hands instinctively move to tangle in his hair, but something wraps around your wrists and pulls them behind your back. You open your eyes to see that he has shifted into his demon form, his tail binding your wrists. Barbatos pulls away, his eyes practically glowing at the sight of you. lips red and kiss-swollen, panting, hair disheveled, completely bare in front of him.

“You look pathetic.” Barbatos observes, but his tone is amused, especially when you whine and pout and say “‘s your fault…”

He hums in acknowledgment, his hands moving to grip your hips and drag you into a sitting position– on his lap.

A whine escapes your throat when your erection rubs against his knee. precum smearing on his dark slacks.

“Look at you… making a mess.” he mused, his hand tangling in your hair and tugging your head back, exposing your neck. Now he gets to leave some of his own hickeys. His tongue dances along the column of your throat, teeth nipping and biting to wrench whimpers from your pretty lips. “Barbatos… please,” you beg. your neglected dick is throbbing for some sort of friction, hips bucking into the air of their own accord.

The demon simply chuckles at your predicament, tail still stubbornly wrapped around your wrists so you can’t take matters into your own hands. “You think you deserve to be touched? After all the teasing you put me through.”

Before you can ask “What teasing?” he’s flicking open a bottle in his free hand. You have no idea where or when he got lube, but you could care less about the logistics.

“But I need to see your face when I finally wreck you, so I’ll give in for now.”

He uncoils his tail from your wrists and shifts his legs so that you’re straddling him. He allows you to anchor yourself by holding onto his shoulders.

“Be a good boy and keep them there,” he orders. You nod. Something cold and wet presses against your ass, making you gasp and jolt into him, surprised. He lets out an amused sound, setting down the bottle of lube and letting his hand settle on your hip. You could see both of his hands, so what was–

You bite back a lewd groan when the tip of his tail pushes past the tight rim of your ass. Barbatos’s hand moves to wrap around your throat again, clicking his tongue.

“I want to hear all the noises you make, don’t you dare hold them back.”

His tail pushes deeper, brushing against your prostate. Your toes curl and you yelp, your face burying into Barbatos’s shoulder. Curses slip from your lips as Barbatos starts thrusting his tail in and out, setting a brutal pace that makes you arch and curl into him.

You uttered his name like a prayer, ironic, seeing as he’s a demon, but it sounded so sweet on your tongue. Barbatos grunted when your hand slipped from his shoulder, dragging down his chest and landing directly on his crotch, right up against his erection. It had been completely an accident, and when you noticed, you squeaked out an apology that sounded half-hearted with the way your voice tapered off into a whine.

Barbatos licked his lips, eyes alight with pure sin. The way he gripped your throat like you belonged to him. the way his fingers pushed against your tongue in punishment. the way his voice vibrated in his chest as he ordered you to “suck.”

You obeyed, of course. Lips closing around his digits and eyes rolling back when his tail rubbed against that sensitive spot inside you. His free hand wrapped around the base of your aching cock. at the same time, his fingers push deeper into your throat. You gag, tears pricking your eyes as a choked cry barely makes it out of your mouth.

“Getting close?” Barbatos asks, his sadistic grin and lust-blown eyes boring into you. You nod frantically, tears slipping past your waterline.

“Do you think a slut like you deserves to cum?” he growls, his hand squeezes your cock, pumping fast. You were going to cum if he kept at it. You tried to warn him by digging your nails into his shoulders, but he only sped up. His tail thrusting and his fist pumping. You let go with a strangled sob of his name, your hips bucking into his hand as you painted his shirt white.

Surprisingly gentle, Barbatos removed his fingers from your mouth. He slowly pulled his tail out of your abused hole, tenderly setting you down on a chair. Your brain was still hazy from your orgasm, barely able to keep your head up. You blinked down at Barbatos as the butler cleaned you up. he was already dressed in a fresh shirt and pants, looking as clean and professional as always. as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out.

“Was I too rough?” he asked softly, helping you pull your pants back on.

You shook your head, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, a lovesick grin on your face. he smiles, his hands softly trailing along your chest. his fingers pause over the bruise on your shoulder. your eyes followed his gaze.

"like my bruise?" you asked, "mammon dropped a book on me when we were cleaning the library." your lips curled up at the memory. Barbatos stared at you for a moment before clearing his throat and handing your shirt back to you. "of course…"

you raised a brow, observing him inquisitively. you put the pieces together, a sly smile spreading across your face. "did you think it was a hickey? is that why you got all possessive of me?" you blushed and pursed your lips, giving him big puppy dog eyes. "of course not!" Barbatos insisted, but there was a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. you tugged on your shirt, standing and wrapping your arms around him, pressing a soft kiss to the demon's lips. "don't worry, Barbatos. I'm all yours…"

#clover's ☘︎ fics #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me shall we date #om! barbatos

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Consolation: Enid Sinclair x f!reader

request: I’d like to request something with Enid x fem!reader where Enid’s s/o comforts her after parents week and everything that happens with her mother.

„So, your father bailed on you this year as well?”

Xavier raised eyes on me and his pouted lips and annoyed expression were enough for an answer.

“You know, I don’t even care anymore” he shrugged, not having a care in the world.

“Mhm, right. Sure.” I leaned on the wall next to him watching everything that was happening in the quad during the first parents-students meeting this semester.

“Looks like your family abandoned you as well….” Xavier started.

“Well, you know, banshees are not exactly known as the familiar ones. It’s enough emotions for us to sense death around…..” I muttered, busy looking for a familiar face in the crowd of people downstairs. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“Who?” Xavier followed my gaze “Oh. Enid. I don’t know. She’s another one to have complicated family relationship, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea” I sighed deeply “I’m worried about her, you know. She looks…. sad. So much different from the happy, bursting joy of sunshine she is every day.”

“It’s just one weekend, I bet she’s…..”

“You know, maybe I’m being delusional as on only child, but I always thought having a lot of siblings means that you have someone to talk to or fight against or get into trouble together….”

“That might as well make us brother and sister.” Xavier smirked, but I barely heard his words, being too much inside my head.

“….and just look at them. She’s all alone while her brothers play together. And her mother? Ugh. She’s just pushing her so hard. It’s so unfair! It’s not her fault she did not wolf out, yet!”

“Ok, Y/N, you might want to calm down…..” Thorpe put a hand on my shoulder and that made me realize I was squeezing the stones so hard my hands started to bleed. “Take it easy. You know you can always step in and become her knight in shining armor saving her from the literal claws of her relatives, right?”

“What? Oh hell, no! I love her, but her mother scares the shit out of me. I can sense a lot of negativity coming from her. Definitely a lot more than she’s showing.”

“Whatever you say. I guess we are cursed with each other this weekend than.”

“Could have been worse, I guess” I shoved him playfully, but my worries and fears about my wolf girlfriend were still there.

***

“Y/N” I turned around facing forward but there was no one in front of me. Luckily, quick enough I realized the voice was coming from below and lowered my gaze only to spot Wednesday Addams glaring at me.

“Hello Wednesday.” I smirked “it is a wonderful day, isn’t it?” I tried my best to get any reaction from her, but her face did not change in the slightest so I dropped the act. “what do you want?”

“There’s nothing you could do to be useful to me.” She said flatly “Enid, however…..”

“Did something happen to her?” ok, now I was concerned. Just the mention of her name I was ready to jump into fire. Given my girl’s character that wasn’t so unlikely.

“Apart from that catastrophe of parents visit? Nothing. It is truly, a beautiful tragedy.”

“Where is she? Wednesday!” I wanted to wake her up from her own dark, gloomy fantasies about horrors and fears, but Addams was too intimidating to shake her. And maybe I was a little scared she would kill me at the spot if I were to do that.

“Dorm. Obviously. She got into one of her emotional state. Refuse to go out and see anyone, though I can’t comprehend why. I was always the one to stand out from my family and yet it never drew any emotions out of me.” I did not even listen to her blabbering as I took off running towards the Ophelia Hall. “Interesting,” Wednesday muttered to herself “and absolutely unnecessary.”

***

The wooden floor creaked the second I took a first step and the sound startled Enid, who ironically was a bit jumpy for a werewolf. She abruptly turned towards the door, her cheeks puffy, eyes bleary from the tears falling down freely and that view broke my heart in a million pieces. My wonderful girl, my lovely golden-labrador, purely-hearted, perfect, innocent, sensitive girlfriend. Someone hurt her. Someone being most probably her mother. I felt endless rage just because of watching her broken figure, her hopeless expression and at the moment I was ready to burn the whole world down and watch it go down in flames just to make her feel better. For those who doesn’t know, banshees scream are indications of death, and I sensed one coming from the back of my throat, but her crouched, small figure made me stop. She looked so fragile and broken, sobbing desperately, trying her best to calm down and failing spectacularly.

“Y/N” she managed to pant, wiping her tears, and I rushed to her side, my hands circling around her at once.

“I’m here, Enid. I’m here. It’s ok, love” I shuddered when she hid her face in the crook of my neck.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” She muttered

“Why?”

“Cause I’m always happy and …. And I though…..”

“Hey. Stop it. Look at me.” She raised her blurry eyes and locked them with mine “There’s nothing, nothing you can do to make me look at you differently. All right? Tears or smiles or throwing daggers…. I love you all the same in each of the moods, ok? You don’t have to hide. And certainly, I don’t need Wednesday Addams to inform me of your stare” I muttered holding her tighter.

“She came to you?”

“Yes. And I did not like that.”

“I told you she cares. In her own way, but she does.”

“Right.” I muttered. I was not going to admit to Enid I was simply jealous. At least not at the moment, since it was not the time nor the place, but maybe, maybe in the future we will have a conversation about this. “What happened? I mean, I know the effect your family has on you but this is a whole new level of sadness. Even for you.” I cupped her cheek “Come on, sunshine, let it out.”

“she wants to send me to lycanthrope conversion therapy!” she dropped the hammer and started crying again.

“Oh, my love” I circled her arms and pulled her closer not believing what I just heard. No words could ever express how I felt at that moment. “I’m not letting you go anywhere. “

“You don’t?” she asked weakly and hiccupped which made her let out a laugh.

“Oh, there is that little smile I love” I pressed a small kiss the corner of her lips “of course I’m not. Wait, did you think differently?” even the thought of her believing I would not fight for her made me appalled.

“I…. I…. was too worried to think.” She confessed finally “you know, it’s just painful seeing your family not accepting you.”

“Can’t say I have such an experience, but I know how it feels to be alone. “ once again, banshees are not family creatures. “but you know what, you have family here, at Nevermore. You have me, Ajax, Xavier and as much as I hate to admit it, Wednesday.”

“She’s one of a kind, isn’t she?”

I rolled my eyes. I did not want to talk about the dark haired girl.

“Look, Enid. We all love you. I love you. More than anything. You could you have fangs , scales or feathers for what I care. You could even be a normie and that wouldn’t make me love you less. None of this matters to me. You are kind, unlike your mother apparently” I hissed and she scoffed me for that but smiled a bit, “helpful, selfless and smart. Brave and full of life, ready to explore it to the fullest. I love your pink hair” I touched the left side of her head “and your blue hair” then the right one “I love your eyes and your claws” I grabbed her hands in mine, rubbing thumb over her soft skin. “But what I love most is your smile, even when it’s not on your face.” I caressed her cheek “just a memory of it makes it all better for me” I rested my forehead on hers, like I was trying to convey all my emotions to her and she definitely got the message leaning in and kissing my cheek softly.

“Thank you” she whispered “you are my strength, you know?”

“Maybe, but sometimes I wonder how you put up with my murderous attitude.”

“I love your murderous attitude.” She grinned “I think I’m feeling better now. “

“Does that mean you are going to stand up to your mother?”

“Well, if staying here with you is at stake than I definitely will” she laughed “can’t leave you alone in case you were trying to murder the whole school, right?”

Oh, how I loved having that little rainbow in my life.

#wednesday netflix #wednesday fanfic #netflix wednesday #wednesday x reader #nevermore #nevermore academy #wednesday series #wednesday fandom #xavier thorpe fluff #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x reader #enid sinclair x you #enid sinclair x y/n #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair fluff #enid x you #enid x reader #enid x y/n #enid sinclair x fem reader

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 month

Text

Daughter of the Rain and Snow

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who put her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7 @cartoon-clifford @origami-butterfly @lady-a-stuff @thelibraryofalexandriastillburns @inej-ghafa-deserves-the-world @thatdelusionalnerd

If anyone wants to be added let me know :)

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's blood, wounds, fear of losing loved ones, ptsd references, and violence/knife violence references

AO3 link: Daughter of the Rain and Snow - Chapter 129 - She_posts_nerdy_stuff - Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo [Archive of Our Own]

Chapter 128 - Kaz

It was almost an idyllic morning to wake up to, whether it should have been or not. Kaz only realised how long he’d slept for when the sun was dancing across his eyelids and a gentle, welcome breeze was drifting through the window. The curtains were drifting slightly in the soft wind and the spring air was not too cold, but fresh enough to prickle against Kaz’s bare arms. He closed his eyes again for a moment, feeling the sunlight leaking through the curtains warm against his face, before looking down at Inej. She was still asleep, lain against his chest, her hair a dark mass falling over both of them. Kaz smiled, lying still and just watching her, listening to her breathing, feeling her heartbeat pressed against his own, until she woke up. He had no idea how long it took. Inej lifted her head slowly, blinking, and turned to face him.

“Good morning,”

“Inej? Inej, look at me, Inej, please… Inej!”

Kaz should’ve been here. He should’ve been here. He should’ve been here.

“Good morning,” he smiled, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind her ear, “Did you sleep alright?”

Kaz knelt on the floor by Inej, breaths catching in his throat, blinded to the commotion around them as he pressed his gloved hand against the wound in her side. What had he done? What had he done?

“You’re okay,” he tried to tell her through a wavering voice, “Inej, look at me, you’re okay,”

It was an ugly cut. The knife had gone in deep but Alby hadn’t had time to pull it out again, so for as long as Kaz could keep pressure on it would be okay, wouldn’t it? He could tell himself that all he wanted, but his glove was still wet with Inej’s blood. There was an unpleasant slash on her thigh as well, that only when he looked properly did he realise the thin handle of a much smaller knife was still protruding from.

What had he done? What had he done?

Inej’s smile was wide as she leant up towards Kaz, lips pressing briefly against his.

“I slept very well,”

The Healer seemed to take an eternity to arrive. By the time the girl came in - barely teenaged, let alone a competent bloody adult - Kaz had pulled Inej onto his knee and was cradling her head with one hand, still trying to keep pressure on her side with the other. Her blood was soaking into his clothes. He could feel her pulse throbbing through the wound as she reached one hand up and delicately touched his cheek with the barest trace of her fingertips. Kaz’s gaze flicked between the knife in her side and the knife in her leg, panic and fear and anger and a thousand other things screaming silently with every tiny movement that he made. There was less blood at the wound in her leg, but he was pretty sure it was in a similar position to where she’d had stitches just a few weeks ago. Even though those had been fixed by a Cororalnik, Kaz doubted it was good to have another wound so close.

“You’re making a dangerous habit of this,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked, almost laughing, “Getting used as a pincushion?”

“How are you feeling?” Kaz asked as he stood and stretched, finding his cane where he’d left it leaning by the desk before offering Inej his arm to stand up.

“Surprisingly good, actually,” she smiled, and Kaz found he actually believed her.

Of course, surprisingly good in this case could more than easily just mean not on death’s door but Kaz decided to take it as a positive. Inej rolled her shoulders, sighing happily, then released Kaz’s hand to stretch and touch her toes, and promptly fell over.

Kaz’s heart leapt as he moved to grab her arm. His cane slipped on the shiny wooden floorboards and both of them tumbled, holding each other tightly, crashing messily on top of each other. Inej groaned but she was laughing too, leaning heavily on the side of the bed to pull herself up before collecting Kaz’s cane and offering him it or her arm to stand.

“Are you alright?”

“Balance aside?” she smiled, but he could tell it was bothering her, “I’m okay,”

Kaz breathed.

“I’m sorry,”

Kaz was an idiot. He had left her all alone, and for how long? He didn’t know how many hours he had slept for, but sunset had been a distant thing when he drifted and now night had long since fallen beyond the palace walls. The sky was pinpricked by stars.

“Inej? Inej, please, keep talking to me… Oh Saints, Inej, I’m so sorry,”

Inej’s eyelids were flickering. Kaz was covered in her blood. Both of them were.

“I’m so tired,”

“Inej? Inej, look at me-”

“Shhh” she whispered, shaking her head, closing her eyes, “I’m sleeping,”

“Don’t you dare,”

Kaz shook her shoulder. And then he shook it again.

“Inej? Inej!” he shook her once more, and she just sighed quietly, “Where the hell is that Healer!?”

“Kaz…”

“Just a few more minutes,” he promised her, “Just stay awake a few more minutes for me,”

She stroked his cheek again, and as she pulled away his free hand caught hers in the air. He let her run her fingers beneath the rim of his glove, shivers coursing down his spine at the feeling of her skin against his wrist.

“For you,” she murmured.

“For me?” he whispered.

Her fingers slipped higher, pushing the leather up along his palm to slowly remove the glove. She was touching his wrist, then his palm, the back of his hand. He let her pull the glove away and closed his fingers over hers; it dropped to the ground next to her and lay still. Some black ominous thing, like a dead animal at their feet. Their fingers intertwined, wedding rings clinking against each other like distant bells.

“For you,” she smiled, “I can make an exception,”

She slipped her thumb into the tiny space between their palms, and Kaz felt his shoulders tense. He was fighting the need to lean over, to close the space between their lips. That was ridiculous. He was holding her stab wound, feeling her blood spilling over him, and still he was thinking of the soft brush of her lips against his own. He tightened his grip on her hand, her thumb suffocating in between them.

“Inej, I’m sorry,”

“Don’t say that,”

Kaz watched Inej now, breathing slowly as she sat down in front of the dressing table. She winced as she reached up to brush her hair, then tried to carry on as though he hadn’t noticed. Kaz hesitated for the briefest second, then stepped forwards and took the brush from her hand.

“Kaz-”

“One braid or two?”

Inej watched his eyes for a moment in the mirror, then smiled.

“Two,”

When the Healer had finally arrived last night, she’d not been long followed by Fiona Kittel and the Nazyalenskys. Kaz had been aside by that point, breathing an almost painful process as he watched the Healer leaning over Inej with his heart in his throat.

“What happened?”

“You’re incompetent fucking guards happened,” he hissed, not moving to meet anyone’s gaze until he glanced briefly at Fiona, “Where’s the girl?”

“Asleep, I think. I heard-”

“Don’t leave her alone, I don’t know where Rollins is-”

“In custody,” said Nikolai, calmly.

Kaz did lock eyes with him then, no change in the ferocity of his tone as he repeated:

“Don’t risk leaving her alone,”

Fiona glanced almost nervously between Kaz and the royals, then vanished. Zoya frowned, but said nothing. It took several long, nerve-wracking minutes for the Healer to announce that Inej was okay. More than okay. Whatever medicines - the Healer had said drugs and Kaz’s heart almost careened off course before the girl clarified she meant the drugs that Genya had given her, why the hell did the wording have to be so unhelpful? - were left inside Inej after the procedure were still working well enough to keep her stronger than she otherwise would have been after an injury like that. She had lost a lot of blood but the blade hadn’t hit any vital organs, and it would be within hours that she would start to feel normal again. Normal. Kaz didn’t feel very convinced by that word. But Inej had awoken not long after he’d banished everyone else from the room and changed out of his blood-soaked clothes, and she claimed to barely feel the pain at all. He wasn’t entirely certain he believed her, but who knew what kind of medicines Genya had given her to dull such things? It made him shiver to think about it too long.

Inej hadn’t wanted to go back to sleep, once she was up. Kaz insisted that she at least rest and they had lain together on the bed for a long time, talking softly. She told him she’d woken up during the procedure and he made a mental note to find out which Corporalnik had screwed up so he could show them their own innards and see how they enjoyed it, whilst he cradled Inej’s head against his chest and tried to convince her that next time it would be okay. He would find a way to be there with her, no matter how many arguments with Genya Safin it might take. She told him what had happened when Alby came in and he told that he knew that he had Maya’s contract and everything the girl had said to him. He told her what had happened when they went downstairs. Inej had almost cowered slightly at that, saying that she should have done something because Fiona had told her Maya was convinced Alby had spoken to her on the boat, and Kaz thought of what the Heartrender had told him about the river seeming to take control of Maya in her deepest hysterics as he promised Inej that she could not have changed anything, that she had done everything she could. She had given everything and more for that girl, and damn it to hell if Kaz let her think she should’ve done better. He had no idea what time it was when Inej drifted to sleep, still leaning on him, or when he fell not long after, but it must have been late for them to have stayed in bed this far into the morning.

Kaz had just about finished tying off Inej’s second plait when there came a knock on the door. His fingers froze before hastily finishing the task and he stepped away from her, searching the nightstand blindly for his gloves as Inej called for whomever was behind the door to come inside. Fiona leant nervously into the room, eyes flicking over Inej and clearly trying to ascertain how well she was doing before she spoke.

“We have a... slight problem,” she pursed her lips, “Maya’s missing,”

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lu-twilights-pup · 11 months

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Okay hear me out real fast, maybe like four, legend, and twilight with a s/o who gets injured protecting them BUT doesn’t understand why they are upset cause they are a important heroes and their s/o is just here

Its been a minute lol it i chose to do this with Legend!

D I S C L A I M E R S

fluff, mentions of injury, fluffy fluff.

——

Its had been about 5 hours since you had taken a hit for Legend. A stray bobolink managing to climb a horse and swing about its weapon came hurdling towards the veteran. He had been to focused on covering Wild, unable to hear the clopping hooves over the sounds of battle. But you did.

It was about 4 and a half hours ago that they had finally cleared out the monsters in the area. Miscellaneous bands of Moblins and Bobolinks of varying eras lay strewn about, piled on top of one another.

Now he sat in their makeshift camp, refusing to move from your side as you rested; providing a sharpened glare to those who pressed harder for him to rest on his own. A potion was all you really needed thankfully, and you were ordered to bed rest for the rest of the day and the day following. The gash along your head cleared rather quickly with the magical substance and left nothing short or a few bruises here and there.

A few to many if you asked the vet. But he had learned early on in his travels to settle for ‘not dead’ when he could.

You promptly passed out after being healed and settled into a spare bed roll. Legend offered to take first shift once you did, leaving absolutely no room for protest from the others.

He spent his watch starring into the fire, poking it to pass the time. He had hoped that if he didn’t stare you down out right, may haps you would wake up faster. Something about “a watched pot never boils” from Warriors rang in his head. Though he’ll give credit were its due, while time didn’t pass any faster—nor any easier—but it did feel like you had only been out forever, not quite an eternity.

By time he had convinced Four that he would take over the second shift as well, showing no signs of sleeping any time soon, you had begun to stir lightly. The world too bright and too dark all around you at the same time. Slowly the effects of fatigue swirling around your head, blurring together into a nausea, as you came too. The taste of potion still sat on you tongue, sticky and bitter. Your face scrunched as you sat up.

Waking up after a nasty blow always sucked. It was always a different time; a different place than where you were originally hit. You had no idea who else was injured, if you were safe, if you were alone. Your head throbbed with such questions.

“Are you alright? Anything sore?” Legend was quick to come closer to you. You barely made out what he had said, still trying to get the world to stop tilting.

Your voice was hoarse and crackly. “Potion tastes like ass.” Legend searched your face for pain before narrowing his stare.

“Good. Maybe that will get you to be more careful!” He prompted with an eye roll. He plopped down next to you and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Right back at you.” You grumbled lightly, attempting to sit up more, only for him to push you back down gently.

“I’m not the one who ran head first into a Bokoblin swing!” A quiet groan sounded across camp, stilling both of you for a moment. Waiting on baited breath until the sailor turned back over and began snoring once more.

“No but you’re the one who didn't see it and didn't move, so you almost were!” you huffed. “I don’t see what the big deal is, your safe and uninjured aren’t you?” You asked, looking him over, at least as much as you could from your spot on the ground.

“Yes but-“

“Then everything is fine! There shouldn’t be such a big issue.” You said turning away from him a bit, attempting to get up again, only to wince and fall back. Legend barely managed to cushion your fall.

"Such- there- ugh!" Legend let out an ugly laugh, but reeled in his voice before anyone stirred further. He gave you and incredulous look as he scanned your face. "Not such a big issue my ass! You got hit!"

"So did you!" You whispered, pulling the blanket around you tighter as you glared at him. Truly annoyed at his tone. "And so did Wild, and Sky, AND Time!!" gruffly you shifted in you spot. "But you aren't hovering over them when you ought to be making sure they're okay-"

"We already did! And non of them got hit as badly as you did! They got hit and got up, you were knocked out!" Legend hissed at you.

"But I'm fine, they might not have been! You might not have been!!''

“(Name) what are you talking about?!” Legend whispered, actually assisting you in getting up this time around. “You’re borderline concussed, this is not fine!”

“Yes it is!” You stared him down. “If something happened to you then it would be a problem. You’re more important.”

You’re more important.

Dozens of thoughts fly by his eyes. Countless scenarios and questions. Dozens and dozens of reasons why that simply wasn't true. A twinge of guilt that you didn’t think you were that important.

“(Name), what makes you think I’m more- That’s not- (Name), no.” His words bumped into each other and tumbles their way out of their mouth.

“Link, come one. Look at you. You’re a hero. You’re basically the hero. You’re on this quest thing, with all these other big heroes, doing all these amazing things. Saving people, towns, worlds for fucks sake. And I’m…well I’m me." Your shoulders tightened up before you slumped forward in a sulk.

"And I’m kinda just—well I’m kinda just here to tag along. If something happened to me then that’s that; but if something happens to you a whole world loses a hero, people will be in danger, th-“

You made a small 'hmpf' as a hand met your mouth. The faint smell of copper, salt and charcoal filled your nose.

“Breathe.” His voice was small and uneven, like he was holding his breath in hope you would do the same. His brows were drawn together tightly, a deep frown twitched below them.

You took a deep breath from your nose, once then twice before he let go of you.

"(Name). You're a hero, too."

"No, I'm just-"

"You are though. You help us in more way than you even know. You fight with us in battle, and you've seen just as much of this fucked up adventure thing that we have. Maybe this is your first time around—goddess i hope its your only time around—but that's still a time." Legend hand found it's way to your cheek.

"You don't need all the fancy weapons and magic shit we have or then divine intervention or the wagons full of trauma that we carry to be a hero." You smiled pitifully at his last remark. Stinging a bit when you remind yourself of the things he's had to do to get where he is.

You heart squeezed at the thought of being seen as part of the group. You feared going on this adventure with them; that you would forever be placed in the way of civilian, or worse civilian casualty, but you had made peace with it at some point. The chance to see when they see, to travel with such a group, and after becoming closer with them, the bonds you made made that morbid thought worth it.

The relationship you had developed with the prickly veteran drowned out any other fears you and about the whole thing.

"You are a hero in your own right, and you are just as important as the rest of those idiots, I'd say damn near more important. Goddess knows what I would do if we lost you out here. If I last you out here." You didn't notice when the first tears roll down your cheek till he swept them away. "There is no ignoring or refilling your space if you are gone, love" He squeezed your face a bit before allowing you to fall into him in an awkwardly sitting hug.

Just behind you he watched Twilight sit up in the night, alert to your weak sniffles. Though once his eyes met Legend's he nodded and laid back down, turned away in his bed roll.

Legend continued to hold you and rub your back as you clung to him.

"You're important to us, love. We love you, hell I know I do." He mumbled into your hair. Little by little, your sounds faded into the dawn. Your fears put out like the smoldering fire in the midst of the camp, replaced by the suns rays and Legends arms around you.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #legend linked universe #hall has written

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starlight-storytime · 3 days

Note

ok so blame it on the dead guy has to be the danny phantom or dc wip right

surprisingly not! "Alright, blame it on the dead guy" is actually my unsub!Spencer Reid fic bc it is CRIMINAL how few plot-driven fics with serial killer Spence assigned his own case are out there

like?? he has SO much potential but I've never come across an Unsub Reid fic that interested me so I decided to write one myself 🥸 1k snippet under the cut!

Spencer volunteered to go first, shifty and nervous. “We—ah, well, we might as well get this out of the way.”

They didn't think to take her out of the viewing room—or, still trusted her enough not to—because they let Elle stay in the corner to watch that stupid, sweet boy get through an interrogation with Hotch. The reality, the potential, hadn't really set in. The team were still scoffing and disbelieving about the mere idea that Elle was a suspect, let alone actually considering she could have killed someone and should be kept aside in a waiting room.

She didn't know whether their trust was heartwarming, or if it hurt to know she was betraying it. That she was making Spencer betray it.

“Where were you last night?” Hotch asked bluntly, diving right to the thick of it.

“890 Glendale Avenue, Queen’s Motel, room 128.” Spencer answered immediately, staring at his shirt cuff as he picked at it.

“A motel?" Hotch raised a brow. "Why weren't you at home?”

“I was, um, visiting Elle. Like I said, this case got us both really heated, and I thought as—as her friend, I should comfort her, y'know?” Spencer looked up as if asking for Hotch's approval, before realizing where he was, and looking back down at his hands awkwardly.

“How long were you at the motel?”

“From 7:23pm to 6:51am.”

“All night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what room was Elle staying in?”

“128.”

“So then—wait.” Hotch visibly double taked. “What room did you stay in?”

“128. Sir.”

Spencer was turning a shade of delicate rose, those honey amber doe eyes burning a hole into his palms as he very determinedly stared down at the table, lips slightly twisted.

“How many beds were in the—”

“We slept together!” Spencer burst out, hands over his face as he couldn't bare to be seen and his ears a burning flame. “They only have queens at Queen’s Motel, which is why they're mostly popular for discreet hookups, affairs, and young couples for privacy. There's no cameras on premise for that exact reason but I can guarantee that we were preoccupied for the entire night and didn't have time to go kill anyone.”

Spencer looks up at his boss beseechingly, and his every move screams earnest innocence. Hotch was briefly stunned silent by the outburst.

The viewing room, on the other hand, is hooting and hollering, gasping and grinning and exchanging promises to pay back bets they had made.

"That's why he's so nervous, that sly dog!” Morgan crowed.

Elle stared at the picture of embarrassed, inexperienced young coworker spilling about an unlikely office romance in front of her, and now understand exactly why Spencer had said what he did on the car ride over

“I have a tattoo of four dice on my left hip, in the order 1, 3, 1, 2. I got it for twenty bucks at a Halloween flash sale in Vegas, when I was 16.”

Elle was so overwhelmed by everything going on after hiding a body and disposing of evidence, she can barely process the spontaneous fun fact Spencer shared.

“Is that your worst secret or something? Trying to make it even now that you— have mine?” Elle weakly joked. It seemed so Spencer that the worst thing he ever did was get an underage tattoo.

Spencer glanced at her briefly before turning back to the dark road he was speeding down, headlights off. “Just remember it. It's on my left hip, an inch above the bone.”

The entire viewing room was staring at Elle now, any ideas of her involvement with the murder last night swept out the door. She can only confidently manage a secretive tilt of her head before she's looking away, towards the sight of her best friend saving her from a charge of second degree murder.

“You and Elle…slept in the same bed the entire night, then?” Spencer nodded behind his hands. “Alright. Sure. She never got up to use the bathroom, get a drink, anything like that?” Hotch's attempts to keep up professionalism were crumbling, with Spencer looking exactly like an embarrassed teen who desperately didn't want to talk about girls with his father.

“We were occupied until roughly 11pm, and slept in the same bed the entire night. We never left the room, she never left my line of sight, please just hurry this up.” Spencer says directly into his hands, not even pretending to not be hiding from eye contact anymore.

Hotch grimaced, as much as the man ever showed weakness. “You say she never left your line of sight, rather than she never left the bed.”

“The only time we got out of bed was to take a shower and replace the sheets, but those all came in the suite. We did them all together, barely an arms length away from when I entered the hotel room to when I got into this interrogation room. We fell asleep cuddling and woke up the same way. I'm a light enough sleeper that she couldn't have moved me without drugging me, and I didn't take anything unsealed last night. ” Spencer peeks out from between his fingers, and the skin that can be seen is an impressively tomato red. “Please, Hotch.”

Hotch sighs, kneading his eyebrow for a long moment before picking his papers up and motioning for Spencer to leave. The boy practically sprints, going straight out the door and into the viewing room with such an apologetic face Elle can almost believe they did have this night he implied, rather than the one that really happened.

"I'm really sorry about having to talk about this with the whole team, Elle." Spencer apologized, even as Morgan was shaking his shoulders like the kid had scored the winning play of the season.

He didn't even lie when he said we spent the whole night together, an arms length away. Elle realized incredulously, filled with exhilarated relief at the fact that they were actually going to get a way with it. We did sleep in that queen bed together, even if nothing happened.

Hotch put his head in reluctantly. "This will be brief, but for the sake of protocol..."

Elle put on her best swagger and a smile for Hotch. "Of course, boss." She blew a kiss behind her on a whim, and the team burst into another round of whispers and gossip as the door shut.

Elle reclined in the metal chair, half nervous and half amused. The look in Hotch’s eyes is so tired dad that she can fool herself into thinking this is a meet the parents scenario.

“Did you know he has a tattoo?" Elle said idly, picking at her cuticle. "On his hip, the left one. You'll never guess the story behind it.”

The tired look he gave her aged him ten years, and Elle laughs so hard she almost cries.

She dramatically goes over the tattoo story she heard in the car, and then proceeds to make up one of the best nights of her life, using unnecessarily raunchy detail until it's all too much. Too much in general outside of an erotic romance, but way too much for her boss to hear about from a coworker he has to look in the eyes, and the boy she can tell he's starting to consider like a son.

Elle doesn't get arrested for murder that day. The least she can do is cover for Spencer now, when he's being blamed for a string of murders he didn't even do.

#this isn't a Spencelle or ship fic in general this is just my fave scene so far #this is actually a flash back explaining why Elle in the present suddenly pops in and gives Spencer an alibi #as the main plot is about Spencer being an unsub who changes methods every few months to masquerade as a new kille d #and Elle is gone by the time the team is assigned Spencer's serial killer identity's case #(she has no idea he's actually been like four different serial killers throughout his life LMAO)#((he plays up the sweet puppy eyes and relies on her guilt abt using him as an alibi for when she killed))#unsub spencer reid #criminal minds #Spencer Reid #elle greenaway #wip #ficlet #snippet #cm #alright blame it on the dead guy

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fives-lover · 5 months

Text

Chapter 12: Are We Alive?

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Mando'a: Haran (HA-Rahn) hell

All hell had already broken loose the second they were past the ship. She heard almost everything over the comms and didn’t like what the pilots said to each other as the ship threw them everywhere to avoid being hit by cannons. The ship lurched forward, making Rasha lose her grip on the handles above her head and throwing her into Obi-Wan. He steadied her and the ship began plummeting to the planet’s surface. Alarms began blaring in her ears and the pilot was yelling to everyone in the back of the ship.

“Brace yourselves!” Obi-Wan ordered as he clutched the handle and Rasha tighter and she did the same, her grip on his arm probably didn’t feel too good but he didn’t react.

Seconds later, everything stopped, and the pain began. She couldn't see through the dusty interior of the ship and tried moving but was trapped under some of the metal from the wreckage. She couldn't breathe under the weight of it. She faintly heard people moving around, defending themselves against the swarms of bugs. Screams from the battle raging outside made her more anxious than she already was knowing she couldn’t do anything to help them or defend herself.

Obi-Wan reached a hand over to help move the pieces on top of her leg but couldn’t do much except bring more pain. “Captain, you still there?” His voice sounded raspy.

“Barely, are you hurt, sir? You don’t sound too good.” The movement from her talking made the ship feel like it was sinking into the planet as pressure from the metal increased, crushing her leg more. She was only concerned about keeping herself and anyone else with her alive long enough to get away from the Geonosians.

“I will be okay. Sand doesn’t feel too good going down the throat though. How are you doing Trapper?”

“No idea, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that if we survive this,” he chuckled.

Rasha sighed heavily, “I guess we just have to sit here and wait until someone hopefully comes to find us. Did anyone else make it?” She was met with deafening silence, making the air surrounding them feel thicker than the swamps of Dagobah.

“They will. I’m sure Cody is already on it. We just need to focus on being calm and you need to breathe. We’ve got the three of us, it’ll be alright.”

Rasha knew she would have been saying the same to anyone else in her situation and tried to calm herself. She felt the ship crushing her more with each breath and felt like she was going to pass out from the lack of air paired with the searing pain throughout her body. She looked around through the darkness for her medical bag to hand Obi-Wan and Trapper something to help themselves but it was nowhere to be found and gave up when she started seeing stars, opting to sit with her eyes closed and pray that someone would come soon. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to walk, let alone help with the battle. The men were going to have to fend for themselves and that made her even more uneasy than being trapped. Even if they knew how to take care of each other.

---

The doors were forced open with the deafening sounds of metal scraping on metal. Obi-Wan took a deep sigh of relief once he saw that it wasn’t any bugs trying to finish them off but kept his hand on his lightsaber, ready to fight if needed. He relaxed and dropped his hand when he saw two men from the 212th standing in the doorway. “Waxer, Boil, am I glad to see you! Trapper, Rasha, and I are the only ones still alive.”

“Good to see you, sir!” Boil cheerfully said as he dragged Trapper out. Once they made sure Trapper could stand on his own, Boil came back in for Obi-wan and set him down just outside the ship. “Waxer, get in here! She’s under here pretty good. Captain, can you move your arms?”

Rasha winced and wheezed as the piece of metal continued pressing further into her. “I should be able to. They’re not as trapped as my leg is.”

“Good, Waxer is gonna gently pull you out of there once I get this up enough.” He gave a pointed look at the man in the doorway.

Waxer joined after getting a blaster for Trapper so he could fend off any more bugs that might come around. “You ready, Cap?” he asked once he got a good footing and grip on her wrists. "Deep breath, and… 1, 2, 3.” The piece slowly moved off of her as the ship shifted and settled into the sand more, throwing both of them off balance and the piece of metal slammed back onto her leg and part of chest.

She was crying from the pain and just wanted everything to be over already and snapped, "stop! You're only gonna make it worse! Guys, get outside and see if you can do anything to get this death trap to stop moving before you try again!" She was gasping and gritting her teeth as they ran out. "If you can't find a way to get it to stop, just leave me a blaster and get back to the landing zone! You know where I am and you can get more people out here when this is done!" The ship continued moving, shifting the metal across her body more, ripping skin and clothing apart with ease.

Boil stepped back inside briefly. "No can do, sir! We're getting you out of here one way or another. We don't leave anyone behind. Ever." Eventually, they were able to get the ship to stop moving and pulled her out, resting where Obi-Wan had been sitting earlier and winced when she looked down at her leg, “That doesn’t look too good…”

“Not really…” Waxer grimaced, “I really don't think your shin is supposed to bend like that... Let’s get you up. I know it’s gonna hurt worse than Haran but we can’t do much of anything else at the moment.”

“Just... Just do what you need to do." Rasha continued gasping and wheezing now that her lungs weren't being crushed. "I think my pack got crushed so we're not gonna have anything to work on everybody's injuries with. Thank the Force I had this crappy armor on though or it would’ve been my ribs busted too…" She said and wheezed more." About the only time that it's ever actually done anything useful other than act as a dinner plate or something anyway...” She took a painfully deep breath as she took the broken pieces of "armor" off and readied herself to be moved again.

“True... I guess…” Waxer lifted her and she bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood, so she didn’t scream from the pain again. He set her down once they were outside the ship where they had more room.

“This isn’t gonna help a whole lot but I found some scrap that might be long enough for you to use as a crutch as we get everyone back to the Commander,” Boil assured, “He’s established the base just beyond this position. The bugs are on the move and trying to surround us as we speak, sir.” He helped Rasha stand again as he called Cody, “We’ve got them, sir. Gonna take a bit to get them back though. They're not in great shape.” As they began making their way back, she tried to put most of her weight on the “crutch” Boil had found for her but fell after only a few steps. He rushed to help her as she tripped again, choosing to leave the scrap metal behind, and wrapped her arm over his shoulder.

“It was just a little too short. We can look for another piece of scrap for me to use. Trapper needs help too,” she protested, turning to look back at him.

“I’m fine Captain. I can certainly walk better than you and the General.”

“Are you sure? We need you to be okay too.”

“I’m sure Captain. Let’s just keep moving so we can all get fixed up good.” He waved her on, continuing to limp several steps behind the group.

---

Cody ran up to them, “Are you hurt General?”

“No, no, nothing too serious. What’s the situation here?”

“That’s not ‘nothing too serious,’ he needs to go sit down,” Rasha ordered Waxer, pointing to some nearby crates as Boil all but carried her to one next to the General.

Cody helped keep Trapper upright and everyone moved to where she had pointed. “We’ve got no air cover. Two Generals on the ground beyond our position. And a mess of bugs surrounding us.” He moved out of the way as another clone approached the group with medical supplies, “the enemy was more than prepared for our attack, sir. They knew our every move before we even got started.”

“Well, I’m sure General Skywalker and General Mundi will make it to our position. We just need to make sure we’re still here when they do,” Obi-Wan reassured as he looked at Rasha’s leg still needing to be reset.

When the medic finished with Trapper and Obi-Wan’s “smaller” injuries, he turned to Rasha. “You ready, Captain?” He lightly grabbed her leg just below the kneecap with one hand and her ankle with the other. “Deep breath. 1… 2-" SNAP “-3”

She screamed out in pain as the others in the group watched, wincing and grimacing alongside her. She took several long, deep breaths, pushing through the pain as the medication worked its way through her body. “Thanks…” She said between tears and continued wheezing. “Where do I need to go to help out?”

“No problem, sir. But, with all due respect, you’re not staying on the ground once everyone gets here and we can have some air support.” The medic sighed, avoiding her glare.

“Why the hell not?!”

“Sir, you may be a medic too, but when it comes to your health, I can still outrank you when you're injured as well.”

She shook her head irritatedly. “Fine. I’m still going to help however I can after you get this splint on me until they get here.”

“I can let you do that, but no standing.” He helped her up onto an empty crate for her to sit on and brought a gurney over with someone who needed a few stitches and some bacta. She grumbled something about wanting to get out there and help more men as everyone else walked away.

The battle raged on with no end in sight as more and more Geonosians poured into the areas surrounding the tanks that had been set up as a makeshift base and slowly started overrunning the barrier. After several hours, she heard an explosion in the distance but couldn’t see the source. Her heart dropped as she thought about all the men that were probably lost over there. Obi-Wan was trying to run out into the field again, after bringing another wounded trooper to the circle, leaning on a stack of crates to take a breath before going further. She yelled out to him but he ignored her and went back out. She would just have to wait until he came back again.

Finally, she was able to send someone to get him. “You can’t be running like that. If I’m not allowed to do anything, neither are you right now.”

“Why not? It’s nothing too serious.” He shrugged, still holding his side, and attempted to hide his wincing with each breath.

“Kriff General! You need to sit down! At least for a few minutes to catch your breath until everyone else gets here,” she ordered. Without any more protests, he sighed and sat on the ground next to her. Both wanted to get up and help the men caught just outside the barrier of tanks as more explosions sounded through the blaster fire and overwhelmingly loud buzzing of wings but knew they really couldn’t.

Soon, they heard their own ships coming in to bomb the Geonosians surrounding them, easing everyone’s load some, followed by cheers. Before she could do anything, Obi-Wan was up and running again with his lightsaber ignited and ready to go. This time, he forced himself to sit without anyone telling him to do so after leaning against one of the tanks for a long time. Men cheered more as ships continued bombing the bugs surrounding them, buying them some time to take wounded to Rasha's triage area as reinforcements from the other Generals arrived.

Ahsoka ran through the men, “Master Kenobi!” She sounded concerned and Rasha didn’t blame her, Obi-Wan looked horrible.

“Well, what happened to you?” Anakin asked sarcastically. He was covered in dust and several long scratches through torn clothing and across his face.

“Ahsoka, Anakin! Could you bring him back over here please?” Rasha shouted.

Anakin’s smirk dropped, morphing to complete concern once he turned and saw she was sitting on a crate with her leg in a splint instead of running around helping everyone else like usual. “Force, what happened to you, Rasha?!”

“Not like you could’ve had any control over it happening if I was in that ship with you either, so stop looking at me like that.” She turned her attention back to Ahsoka, “Do you need help getting him over here? I can get someone to help.” Anakin took over, bringing Obi-Wan to sit next to her, “well, I guess you don’t need any help now… General Kenobi, what did I tell you the first time you did that?”

“That I shouldn’t,” He looked like a kid being scolded by their mother after getting caught grabbing snacks in the middle of the night.

“Good. You gonna stay here now?”

“I guess I kinda have to at this point…” He shrugged before looking back up to Anakin and Ahsoka, “Our combined forces should be enough to destroy their shield generator. Anakin, you’ll need to take a small squad to get as close as you can get to their guns. You should be able to jam the scanners. Master Mundi can bring the rest of the troops when you knock out the shield.”

“Consider it done, Master,” Anakin nodded then headed for his troops.

Obi-Wan turned to start a conversation with Rasha, looking for anything to keep his mind off of not being able to help in the battle raging around them, while they waited to be brought up but decided against it when he saw she was working diligently on another injured trooper.

He watched her hands expertly working across the clone’s chest and arms without much thought. Her hands and eyes moved everywhere across his torso as she worked, making sure she took care of everything she could while he was still under her care. He was covered in blood and wrapped in several bandages already when one of the field medics brought him over. She quickly removed them to see how bad he was. He'd been too close to an explosion and was thrown through the air, he was covered in dust and burn marks. She suddenly turned, looking for something; once she’d found it, she went right back to work. Her focus was solely on the patient, blocking out the rest of the galaxy. He wasn’t even sure she noticed him staring but couldn’t bring himself to look away even if she had. Obi-Wan was always entranced when he watched someone working to heal another without expecting anything in return except the patient living and healing, whether they used the Force or not, much in the same way that he had learned to never expect anything in return as he went around helping anyone and everyone in his everyday life.

He’d grown and learned to act with compassion, understanding, and always wanting to learn more; to care, and to have a love for anything and everything surrounding him. He was supposed to serve as something to bring more hope to those around him, a symbol of peace, not to be some soldier unintentionally spreading fear. Ever since he was a youngling, he’d been told he was to guard and protect the peace, only attacking when there were no other options, which, he realized, was something the Jedi Order had let slip through the cracks more and more since the beginning of the war. More of their ideals and lessons were being torn apart and thrown away like a piece of flimsi every day the war continued dragging on. He was saddened that the galaxy had taken such a turn without any real explanation of the point of this war.

She seemed to live by every value he had ever been taught without having grown up under the same circumstances. The thought gave him hope that more families were teaching their children to be kind and look out for themselves alongside helping others, Jedi or not. Wrenched from his thoughts, he was helped up and escorted to board a gunship shortly before she finished caring for the trooper in front of her as Anakin and Ahsoka made their way back to the landing zone again.

“So, Master, what was your total?” Ahsoka asked cheerfully.

“Not now, Ahsoka.”

“Come on!” She pretended to pout, “Are you afraid you lost this time?”

“Fine. 55, that’s my count. And you?”

“60. Looks like I won!”

“No, it’s a tie. I called in the air strike!”

“You’re impossible.” Ahsoka shook her head, still with a big grin plastered to her face.

Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head too, “I’ll never understand how you can turn these battles into some sort of game.”

“You need to take care of yourselves. I’ll be seeing you three by the time I’ve destroyed that factory.”

“You sure you can do it without us Anakin?” Rasha snickered.

Ki-Adi perked up, “65.”

Rasha raised an eyebrow, “What?”

He looked at her and then back to Anakin and Ahsoka. “65. That’s my total. So… what do I win?”

Anakin stood in silence for a second, receiving a muffled giggle from Rasha and Ahsoka. “Uh… My everlasting respect, Master Mundi."

Ki-Adi looked at Ahsoka and sounded a little disappointed. “Oh.”

Obi-Wan leaned into him more, “Trust me, that’s a gift Anakin rarely bestows.”

Rasha began laughing. “Anakin, you need to come up with a different prize for anyone that wins that isn’t you or Ahsoka! Just look at him, he deserves something!” Before he could answer, the doors closed, and they were headed to the main ship.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for future posts!

@cdblake1565

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alycosworld · 3 years

Text

Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

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You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fatui #fatui x reader #fatui #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #angst #angst with a happy ending #comfort #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche oneshots #gender neutral reader #x reader

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rons-wheezely · 3 years

Text

224 || G.W.

George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, humor

Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

--x--

“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him.

His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.”

This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is.

Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.

Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.

You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.

As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once.

You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…”

All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.

“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”

“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.”

“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.

“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”

Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.

“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile.

George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”

“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love.

“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films.

You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you.

“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”

“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.

“Maybe.”

“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.

"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”

It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.

Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”

You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?”

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.

“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”

“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.

“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you.

“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.

“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?

“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”

If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“

He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?

“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.

The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”

“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”

“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.

“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.

“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.

You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.

You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”

As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“

Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.

You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.

“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.

He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.

“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.

“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.

Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.

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scarlettriot · 3 years

Text

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

#mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #hanta sero #sero #sero smut #hanta sero smut #sero x reader #sero x y/n #hanta x y/n #hanta x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #smutober #kinktober 2021

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 || dark!Bucky Barnes & dark!Steve Rogers x reader

summary: a little fresh air never hurt anyone, right?

word count: 10.3k (yes, OVER TEN THOUSAND WORDS OF FILTH what is wrong with me)

warnings: noncon smut (incl. anal, oral m and f receiving, dp, and spitroasting), bondage/restraint (and a gag), some mild violence, lots of slapping, pussy spanking, forced orgasms, degradation/derogatory language, kinda kidnapping, a touch of stockholm syndrome?, very brief breeding kink, period-typical sexism (this is set in the late 60s but you wouldn't really be able to tell aside from that and the lack of technology)

a/n: the song that plays on the radio, and the song that just so happens to be the title of the fic, is by john lee hooker in case anyone wants the proverbial vibes

You needed a chance to clear your head every once in a while, that's what camping in the woods was for. It was the perfect time of year for it, too; the leaves were changing, the woodland animals were beginning to prepare for hibernation, and the weather was almost warm with a refreshing breeze that promised to bring the winter chill soon enough.

It was far from your first time in these woods, you knew the drive like the back of your hand by now, just as well as you knew how to hike down to the best places to set up camp.

You set down your pack and took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. No sounds except for the wind in the trees, the trickle of the creek, and your own thoughts which you found pleasantly blank. You'd chosen a spot by the creek, where you could spearfish on evenings that you felt especially adventurous, with a nice dirt patch perfect for a fire. The most dangerous thing about camping in the fall was that the dry leaves could catch flame so easily, so one of the key stages of setting up camp was raking away any foliage from your firepit, lest it become unintentional kindling.

The next order of business was finding a few dozen smooth stones to surround the fire, along with some logs and sticks to burn.

A knife and flint was just enough to speed up your firebuilding so that you had something solid going by nightfall, shedding your jacket to better feel the warmth as the flames grew and the sun set.

Sure, the woods could feel a little… creepy, at night, for lack of a better word, but it was more tranquil than anything. Most of the wildlife that was so active during the day stilled and silenced, bar the occasional owl’s hoot, so the loudest sounds were the crackling of your fire and the ever-present trickle of the creek. You heated your kettle for a cup of chamomile tea, something to help you get to sleep on the admittedly uncomfortable sleeping bag in your canvas tent.

The mug warmed your fingers as you filled and held it, and the steam warmed your face as you took a sip; but the contents warmed your chest, and your soul, as you contemplated the flavors; is it possible that tea tastes better when enjoyed in the quiet woods, mid-autumn?

You were already yawning by the time the mug was finished, so you set it aside and crawled into your tent, shedding the excessive layers and slipping between the fluffy down-stuffed layers of your bedroll. It was chilly at first but you knew your body heat would make it toasty all too soon, so you ignored the way you shivered as you fluffed your pillow and laid it under your head.

It was dark with only the fading light of your fire seeping in through the thick-weave canvas; and it was quiet, being the middle of the forest and all. One sound you didn’t expect were distant sirens, barely audible, which made you wonder if something had happened, but you couldn't know what so you didn't pay it much mind as you drifted to sleep.

The next morning came early, of course; as early as the sun rose, warm sunlight flooding through the canvas of your tent.

You enjoyed staying in the bed for a while, not so much because it was very comfortable (it wasn’t) but just because you wanted to relish having no need to get up yet. No job, no cleaning, no chores… though you were pretty hungry so that inspired you to get up and see about breakfast.

Slipping on a few more layers to protect yourself from the morning breeze, you opened your tent and stepped out into the woods, finding your fire had been reduced to a pile of embers meaning that you would need to find more wood to get it going for breakfast-cooking purposes. And that’s what you were about to do when you heard a snapping of twigs echo through the woods, making you glance up to the source of the noise.

Your back straightened instantly at the sight of two men, one with short blonde hair and the other’s dark and nearly to his shoulders, walking down the hill nearby just across the creek. They were still pretty distant, and yet they were much too close for comfort; close enough to see that these were not men one would want to encounter while alone in the woods.

They had new clothes— baggy and loose, almost certainly stolen— but it wasn’t enough to hide where they must’ve come from. They might as well have still been in jumpsuits with numbers on their chests.

The prison, just over five miles away. Had they really hiked this far? You kicked yourself now for ignoring the sirens last night.

You froze as they turned and caught your gaze, the three of you locked in a stare for a brief moment before one of them took a step forward: that was all the cause you needed to run like hell, turning on your heel and starting so fast you nearly slipped on the leaves beneath you. You heard them call out, chasing after you, but you focused on staring ahead and trying to remember the path back home, or at least to the road where someone might drive by to help you.

A root nearly caught your foot but you kept running, hating that you could hear them gaining on you since it didn’t actually seem to help you run any faster. You looked back and saw them much too close for comfort, but when you looked back ahead it was too late to avoid the tree right in front of you; you swerved but it still made you slip and almost fall.

But you didn’t fall. Someone caught you, and grabbed you, and pulled you into his oppressive form.

His arms held you painfully tight as his hand covered your mouth. "Gotcha," the man growled against your ear, licking the shell of it as you struggled against his grip.

Everything everyone had told you about why a lady shouldn’t camp alone in the woods suddenly flashed in your mind, your eyes squinting shut as you wished you had listened. All you could do now was kick wildly, swinging your legs in the air which didn't even do anything.

"Pretty little thing, aren't ya?” he purred as you saw the second man come into view— the blonde one, so you knew it was the one with long, dark hair that must’ve been holding you, giving you such a twisted compliment. “Just beggin' to be fucked right."

"Don't look so scared, sweetheart, we're not gonna hurt you…” the blonde man explained, “just play nice and we will too."

"Speak for yourself, Rogers," the man holding you snarled. "Been a long time since I got to feel a pussy, I wanna tear this little bitch up."

You sobbed and writhed as the one apparently called Rogers hushed you soothingly, trying to calm you. "Hey, just do what we say and it won't hurt alright? Just take it easy."

He stepped closer, reaching out towards you while you grunted and whined with every kick, smiling in a way that would’ve been soothing in nearly any other situation. He motioned to his partner who slowly lowered his hand from your mouth, and though your instinct was to scream you just heard yourself panting and whimpering instead.

“Did you hear me? We’re not gonna hurt you. We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet… I’m Steve, and this here is my cellmate— uh, friend— Barnes.”

“But you can call me Bucky, dollface,” the man behind you added with a little smile that you could hear and feel with him pressing up so close to your face.

“See, he and I just came from an awful, terrible place—”

“I know where you came from,” you cut him off with a snarl. “You’re criminals! You’re scum!”

Bucky just laughed and held you tighter until your arms started to ache from struggling against him.

“Hey now, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve corrected firmly— not angry, but stern. “I was framed, I served seven years for something I didn’t do. You’re innocent, too, right Barnes?”

“No,” he instantly answered, making Steve look disappointed. “Oh, uh, sure. Yeah, I was framed. Real sob story,” he suddenly decided, not sounding like he was trying that hard to convince you.

“Point is, we were all alone for a long, long time, and we thought maybe you’d wanna be nice and take care of us, huh?” Steve offered.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

“That’s sort of the idea,” Bucky whispered playfully.

“Let me go,” you demanded as Steve’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, anger finally coming out when he suddenly grabbed your chin and held your face to look up at him.

“Let me make one thing very fucking clear,” he explained, nearly whispering so you were forced to stay still and quiet to hear him. “You don’t get to pick what you want. But you get to pick if you’re gonna make this easy, or difficult.”

You spat in his face; he slapped you for that, so hard that your ears rang for a moment while he grimaced and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Difficult it is,” he announced with ill-restrained loathing, coming even closer as Bucky covered your mouth again to muffle your screams of protest. “Buck, I’m goin’ first.”

“Fuck you, pal, I was in longer and I saw her first,” Bucky replied frustratedly. “I’m not gonna take long anyway, you can go after me.”

“I just got spit in my face!” Steve reminded him. “And the breakout was my idea!”

“Your idea?!” Bucky repeated incredulously. “What, you think you’re the first guy to think ‘hey, what if we just left prison?’ because trust me, if it wasn’t for my screwdriver—”

Their argument caused Bucky’s focus to slip, that must have been why the hand on your mouth loosened and you could speak again.

"You won't get away with this, my father's a sheriff!" you yelped, interrupting their negotiation.

They both laughed darkly and you instantly regretted saying it.

"Oh, sweetheart, your old man's a cop? That's too bad,” Steve sighed. “You know what they say: sins of the father…"

"Fuck the daughter,” Bucky finished with a cold, hollow laugh as he suddenly bit down on your ear making you wince and shudder, tears streaming down your cheeks already.

He tossed you down and pinned you to the ground, his strong, heavy body on top of yours knocking the wind out of you as he began to tear at your clothes and, annoyingly, not seeming to find them much trouble at all. You whimpered when you felt your pants torn down your legs, hating how exposed and vulnerable you felt, hating the undeniable fact that you couldn’t stop this.

You tried to get up when he reached down to open his belt and jeans, but Steve’s boot came down on your shoulder and held you still again. Bucky was rushed and brutal as he pushed his pants down and pressed his cock against your ass, guiding it between your legs as you hissed and tried not to think about what was about to happen.

He pulled back briefly to spit on your hole, spreading the forced wetness with the head of his cock before suddenly pushing into you as you gasped and choked on a sob.

"Oh, that's it baby,” he groaned, “scream if you want, nobody can hear you but us."

Already he was thrusting with wild abandon, his hips slapping into your ass as his hot breath came down against your ear and neck, his face pressing yours into the cold ground.

"Fuuuuuck,” he moaned lowly, “so tight, Jesus Christ… fuckin' missed this, went almost ten years without burying my cock in a wet little cunt like this. Shit, it's even better than I remember."

You just cried and bit down on nothing, pain making violent shivers run up your spine as the width of him split you open, pushing deeper than you’d known anything could go.

Each thrust seemed somehow rougher and deeper than the last, pushing you further past your limits, making your toes curl inside your boots. He was unabashedly using your body, treating you with less care than some men might a blow-up doll, moaning loudly as he split you open with every moment.

So why did it almost begin to feel good, now that the worst of the pain had faded? Why was the ridge of his cock brushing over your g-spot just right each time he moved?

He pinned more of his weight on you as he changed his angle slightly, enough to add just that much more brutality to every stroke, the loud slapping of skin echoing through the desolate trees. You could tell he wasn’t lying about how long he’d been celibate in prison, because he fucked you with every ounce of pent-up frustration, hissing through his teeth and holding you tight enough to bruise.

Everything he did, he did enough to bruise.

“Yeah, take it, bitch,” he moaned when you made a particularly pained noise.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna take long,” Steve remembered, staring down at the two of you from where he was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.

“I’m almost done, you waited this long you can wait five more minutes,” Bucky dismissed, voice a little strained as he kept fucking you.

“Just stop and give me a turn and then you can get back to it,” Steve suggested.

“Nah, no fuckin’ way,” Bucky laughed, “feels way too good to stop. Trust me, Stevie, this pussy’s worth the wait.”

“Get her on her knees then,” Steve instructed as he came closer to you and kneeled in front of your face; Bucky manhandled your hips into place while Steve pulled your hair until you yelped and brought your head up. “I wanna fuck this pretty little throat.”

He cut off your protests with another hard slap to your cheek, tugging your hair again as you struggled to hold yourself up on shaking arms.

“Gonna teach this mouthy bitch a lesson,” he explained as he hit you again before using one hand to open his belt and jeans. “You know what’s gonna happen if you try to bite me, right? I’ll just knock you out and fuck your throat anyways. So you’d better make it good if you wanna breathe.”

You tried your best to nod with his fist tugging your hair, gasping slightly when he pulled his cock out and stroked it right in front of your face.

“Come on, baby, open up— this is the most you’ve kept your mouth shut all day,” he laughed, tapping the swollen head of his cock on your lips until you finally opened them. The flavor of his skin on your tongue made your lips curl in disgust but he held your jaw and pushed deeper, quickly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, so warm… come on, suck it, make it good for me.”

“She’s gettin’ wet,” Bucky informed Steve with a chuckle. “She likes it— don’t you, little whore?” he prompted as he slapped your ass suddenly, making you cry out around Steve’s length. “You like choking on a cock like you deserve?”

You made some sort of gurgling sound, and apparently they took it as a ‘yes.’

"Aw yeah, fuck, gonna fill up this little cunt,” Bucky promised. Funny thing is, you weren't sure if "this little cunt" meant your hole, or you.

“You’d better not, m’supposed to go after you,” Steve reminded him.

“Fuck, I dunno if I have the heart to pull out,” Bucky admitted with a laugh, slapping you on the ass to make your walls suddenly clench around him. “I know a sweet body like this just needs to be bred.”

Your sob was louder around where Steve’s girth stretched your lips, making Bucky laugh darkly.

"Oh shit honey, what would Daddy Sherriff say if he found out you got knocked up by a couple'a criminals, huh? By murderers?"

Steve pulled his cock out just enough to let you sob weakly before shoving back in and penetrating your throat.

"Yeah, you like it don't you?” Bucky continued to taunt you. “You like being bred by some strangers who caught you in the woods… dirty bitch."

Steve's head fell back as he started to thrust into your mouth faster and harder, the base of his cock flexing against your tongue. You assumed it was a sign that he was close and it made you hopeful that this would be over soon, but he suddenly pulled out with an exhausted laugh.

"Oh no you don't," he breathed, "not gonna come yet, still need to feel that tight little pussy of yours… if Bucky would hurry the fuck up."

"Fuck, I'm close, I'm close," Bucky rasped. "Shit, babydoll, this wet cunt is gonna make me come, aren't you so proud?"

Steve held your mouth open and rubbed his cock on your tongue, occasionally shoving two fingers in with it which were salty with his sweat.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck," Bucky hissed, "oh god, fuck, I'm—!"

He pulled out suddenly, rubbing his cock against your clit as his seed shot onto the ground beneath you. You sighed with relief although you hated the way your body was actually disappointed, craving more and clenching around nothing in protest.

Bucky was hardly even finished when Steve reached under your arms to pull you up and flip you onto your back, groaning as he settled between your legs and rubbed his cock over your folds. He didn't waste any time pushing into you, and apparently being fucked by Bucky wasn't enough to warm you up for Steve because you hissed at the sting as he filled you.

"Fuck," Steve mumbled as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down beside your head. Already he had begun to pull back only to spear into you again, reaching deeper inside you than Bucky had until you were gasping and choking on nothing.

Bucky stood up and stepped back, pulling his jeans up as he watched you two on the ground.

"You got any cigarettes back at camp, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and it was hard to focus on his question but you shook your head. "Damn," he breathed, pondering for a moment before coming up with his next question. "You got any candy bars?"

"Do you mind?" Steve hissed, still thrusting into you— a bit slower than Bucky but not exactly more gentle. "We're kind of busy here."

"No, I don't particularly mind," Bucky smirked.

"Can't you just entertain yourself for a few minutes while I finish this?"

"Why should I entertain myself when I've got this pretty little thing to entertain me?" Bucky smirked, kneeling down beside you as Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Wanna help me out here, dollface? I'm still hard…"

He freed one hand from Steve's grip and brought it up to the front of his jeans so you could feel the hard bulge there. He opened them for you, reaching in and pulling his hard cock out to wrap your hand around it.

Feeling the thickness of it in your palm now, you couldn't imagine how it ever fit inside you.

"Yeah, that's it, I'll teach you how to stroke it right…" he groaned. "You know how many times I had to do this to myself, just imagining claiming a little slut like you? Your hands are so much softer, sweetheart…"

His hand tightened around yours and guided every movement, which was good because you had no chance of focusing on anything while Steve was slamming into you and moaning right by your ear.

"So wet," he whispered to you, "so warm. All mine…"

You felt your insides grip him harder and he smiled, lips tickling your sensitive skin.

"Yeah, you like bein' mine. You like being owned, I can feel it. I can feel that this is exactly what you needed. Is that what you were hoping for when you came out to these woods all by yourself? That a big strong man would show up and stretch out this pussy? Well I'm here now, angel, and I'm just about ready to fill you up real good."

A few more thrusts, faster and harder than ever, were enough to send Steve over the edge as you felt each pulse warm you from the inside out. Steve groaned loudly and buried himself as deep as he could possibly go, painting his come right onto your cervix while you gasped at the sensation.

Bucky stopped moving your hand and looked down at Steve. "Are you fucking serious— did you just come inside?"

Steve took a moment to catch his breath before answering: "duh."

"How come you get to come inside but I don't, huh?"

"Cause I went second!"

"Yeah, that's some bullshit," Bucky scoffed.

"Will you just leave now, please?" you whimpered weakly from the ground. "You got what you wanted, now just go."

"Oh, sweetheart, we are nowhere near done with you," Steve promised, sighing as he pulled out of you slowly.

You wanted to try to get up, but your limbs were weak and numb, and your head heavy with confusion. It made it easy for Bucky to scoop you up and carry you back the way you'd run, your tent quickly coming into view which made you realize how pitifully short your chase had been.

“Looks big enough for the three of us,” Steve noted as he tilted his head to look at your camp.

“We’re not going in yet, I think somebody needs a little creek bath first,” Bucky smiled as he started to set you down on your shaky legs. “Go ahead and strip, doll.”

You shivered, considering resistance but deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble as you started to peel off your shirt and jacket, then your boots and slightly torn leggings.

They both smiled and watched you, Bucky snorted a little when he saw how hard your nipples were. “It’s chilly,” you defended meekly.

“Sure it is,” he nodded, “don’t stop, get in the water when you’re done.”

You nodded slightly as you tossed the clothes aside, trying to cover yourself with your arms as you slowly walked into the stony creek, wishing the water weren’t so clear so it would cover you better.

You made a weak attempt to clean yourself, watching goosebumps cover your skin from the cool water.

"Wash yourself up good,” Bucky instructed firmly. “I don't want any of Rogers' jizz still in you when I take that pussy again."

With a grimace, you washed between your legs and winced when your touch reawakened the sting of soreness there.

“You’re gonna have to push it out, honey, it’s real deep,” Steve grinned pridefully.

You did your best to clean up, not for Bucky’s benefit but for your own, because you hated how it felt to have Steve’s spend still within you.

“How am I supposed to dry off?” you asked nervously as you looked around, knowing you hadn’t brought a towel as you hadn’t really planned on a full creek bath during your trip. You hadn’t planned on any of this during your trip, shockingly enough.

“You can drip dry,” Steve suggested.

“So you want me to stand naked in the cold for an hour while I dry?” you realized, irritated but still scared.

“Something like that,” Bucky confirmed. “Unless you want us to keep you warm…”

“I’ll freeze,” you decided, stepping out of the water as Bucky snatched your clothes away to make sure you couldn’t dress. “Gimme those!”

“Come and get ‘em,” he challenged, leaving you to huff and cross your arms, teeth chattering as the wind picked up.

You couldn’t imagine why they cared so much about testing your will when they’d already proven that they could take you however they wanted. Perhaps it was just that they wanted to know you’d accepted that. Better yet, they probably hoped you would participate willingly if you understood that you never had a choice.

Closing your eyes didn’t help, you could still feel their hungry gaze on you; rubbing yourself with your hands didn’t help because it just spread the cold water around on your skin, rather than actually warming you up.

It was probably less than a minute but it felt like half an hour before you relented, walking up to Bucky and looking down to avoid his stare as you meekly requested, “can I have my clothes, please?”

“But I can think of so many better ways to keep you warm,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, Steve moving behind you to press his chest against your back. You sighed with relief because even this was already making you feel better, the warmth of their bodies taking out some of the chill while their size blocked you from the wind. You mewled, ever so quietly, when you felt Bucky’s lips on your neck, your eyes falling shut as your head fell back onto Steve’s chest.

They showered you in gentle touches and teasing kisses as they picked you up and carried you into your tent, the small space beginning to warm quickly with the heat of three people inside— or was it just you that was getting hot from what they were doing to you.

Steve was groping your tits and pinching your hardened nipples, while Bucky focused most on sucking your neck or biting just beneath your ear. It was overwhelming, and impossible to ignore though you wanted so desperately not to be aroused. There were only four hands exploring your body but it might as well have been a hundred because you couldn’t tell the difference, they were touching you everywhere all at once.

"Now, are you gonna behave or do we need to tie you up?" Steve asked quietly.

You shook your head wildly, tensing up just imagining that. "Then say it," he instructed.

"I-I'll be good," you promised weakly.

Bucky grinned and slid his hand up your thigh, and though you didn’t mean to, when Bucky reached between your legs you tried to shut them and squirm away, it was instinct.

"Ah ah ah," Steve tutted. "You said you'd be good."

"Think we oughta tie her up," Bucky nodded, feigning disappointment.

"No, please, I'm sorry—"

"Too late for sorry, dollface," Bucky smirked, grabbing a shirt from your pack and tearing it into strips like it was no effort at all.

Steve held your wrists together for Bucky to tie, and they even tied your legs up bent and spread wide, finishing it off with a gag in your mouth.

Now you were helpless to Bucky pinching your clit, circling it with his thick and calloused finger, applying pressure to it until your eyes watered. At first it was exploratory, delicate, but once he’d found the most sensitive places he began to rub your clit hard and fast, laughing every time you moaned and flicking the sensitive bud to make your body jolt.

"Yeah, this little cunt's getting all wet, y'like having your pussy played with?" he smirked.

He accentuated his question with a few sudden spanks to your clit that made you jerk and yelp. The worst thing was that each slap made a wet sound that made you sure you were soaking by now.

“I know you want it so bad, don’t worry doll, I’m not gonna make you wait anymore…”

He caged you in and opened his jeans one more time, the process going much more quickly since he didn’t have to hold you down— you could squirm and cry, but that was about it.

With a little grunt, he pushed into you, and with how wet you were it actually went it much more easily. It was by no means painless though, especially since he was already moving and giving you no time to adjust.

"Yeah, that's better," he sighed, grinning as he watched you whine into the gag. "Now I can really take my time with you, show you how good I can make you feel."

He was certainly more relaxed than the first time, his pace measured and calculated as he made sure his hips met with yours fully at the end of each stroke. His width wasn’t as challenging in this position but his length certainly was, bumping into your sore and delicate cervix until you were forced to bite down onto the gag to cope.

But, in spite of the pain, or perhaps because of it, something deep and strong was forming inside you, tightening and twisting until it took all your effort not to let it spill forth.

He reached down and roughly rubbed your clit again, forcing a muffled scream from your throat as he grinned down at you. “Close already, huh? Good to know I haven’t lost my touch after all these years.”

You almost heard Steve scoff beside you, but it was hard to hear anything when your ears felt like they were full of cotton, only your own echoing heartbeat ringing louder than anything else.

"Yeah, I wanna feel you fuckin' come,” Bucky growled. “Bet you get even tighter every time."

As much as you wished not to, you fell over the edge, back arching until your chest bumped into Bucky’s where he hovered above you. He coaxed you along in his words and movements, your walls clenching in a nonsensical rhythm. More than anything you just wished he would stop moving so you could catch your breath, but his pace never faltered and it felt like you’d never stop coming if he never stopped fucking you.

“That’s it, good fucking girl,” he groaned, “makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I? Answer me.”

You hesitated, and sniffled, but finally nodded.

Even worse, your clit was so swollen now that he didn’t even need to rub it with his thumb anymore; his cock rubbed against it with each movement, the ridges of his shaft massaging you there until it felt like every part of your body had become the most sensitive place possible. You shook violently beneath him, each wave of pleasure stronger than the last until you felt like you had lost all sense of time, and space, and really anything that wasn’t being fucked in this tent like the fate of the world depended on it.

"Get outta the tent, Steve,” Bucky instructed suddenly.

"Why?" Steve protested with a scoff.

"I can't come with you starin' at me!"

"I'm not looking at you, dumbass,” he sneered, “I'm lookin’ at her. So pretty when she cries…"

"Whatever, either way, just go outside please?"

Clearly irritated but relenting anyways, Steve grunted under his breath as he got up, stepping unceremoniously over both of you. Bucky sighed with relief when Steve zipped the tent flap shut behind him, turning his attention back to you. “That’s better, isn’t it? Just me and you… way it oughta be.”

“I heard that!” Steve called from outside.

“Then stop listening!” Bucky suggested through his teeth before leaning down to whisper in your ear, holding your hips tight so he could fuck you harder than ever. "I don't give a fuck what he says, I'm coming in you this time. Not pulling out until I know every drop is in you, wanna see this pussy stuffed to the brim with my come… you want it too, huh?”

Another electrifying pulse inside you made your channel flutter around him, and how cruel that the moan he made actually turned you on more.

"Fuck, that's it, squeeze my fuckin' dick, honey. Wanna milk all the come outta my cock, don't you?"

You nodded again, hearing him moan in that perfect way one more time before you started to feel him pulse and swell within you, streams of hot come pouring into you. The amount was pretty impressive since he’d already come once, although you didn’t exactly feel ‘impressed,’ so much as horrified and confused. And numb, from coming so many times.

Bucky smiled down at you with an exhausted sigh, smacking you lightly on the face a few times to try to rouse you from your blissed-out state, but all you could do was hum sleepily into the gag.

“M’gonna untie you now, you’re too out of it to try anything,” he explained, releasing the gag first before working on your wrists and your legs. A rush of warm come oozed out of your abused hole when he pulled back, making your face heat up as he smiled and held your legs up to see it better. “Yeah, filled you up real nice,” he informed you. He gave a reassuring pat to your thigh before getting up and getting out of the tent, leaving you to stare blankly into nothingness for a while.

Eventually, you knew you had to face the world again, though you were more sure than ever that you weren’t prepared for it. Grabbing a blanket from the floor of the tent and covering yourself with it, you took a slow breath to try to stabilize yourself.

For how slow time seemed to have passed so far, you were surprised to see the sun setting when you opened the tent flap and stepped outside. You realized, with a sick feeling in your chest, that they had been using you nearly all day now. And considering they were waiting for you around the fire, giving you a glance up and down as you emerged from the tent, they still might not stop for a while.

In fact, they’d made themselves very comfortable from the looks of it. The fire was burning stronger than ever, three logs positioned around the sides of the firepit to sit on; a pot was over the fire, and you recognized the contents as some of the food supplies from your pack. Best of all, Steve had found your battery radio and adjusted the station, blues quietly playing from the speaker as he used your hunting knife to whittle a stick.

Serves you right to suffer, the smooth voice crooned from the broadcast, serves you right to be alone...

For a moment, the three of you sat in silence as you took in the scene. But when the wind changed and the heat of the fire no longer reached you, you remembered you had business to attend to.

“C-Can I have my clothes back now?” you asked Bucky quietly, seeing them draped over the side of one of the logs.

“I think if you get dressed you’ll try to run again,” Steve mumbled, not even looking up at you.

“No, I won’t, I’m too tired,” you explained. “I just don’t want to be cold.”

“Fire’s hot enough,” Bucky dismissed. “Why don’t you just lay down a while, hm? Get some rest. You earned it.”

You weren’t just tired physically, but mentally, which is partly why you didn’t put up more of a fight before going over to the log and laying beside it, the blanket around you protecting you from the cold ground while you used your clothes as a sort of pillow on the log.

It couldn’t have been that you were asleep, because you could still hear the fire and the radio and Steve’s whittling (a constant reminder that he had a knife), but with your eyes closed and the darkness getting darker it was almost like sleep. A draining, restless sleep that did nothing to shelter you from the memories of what you’d become.

So, you opened your eyes, staring into the flames instead and venturing the occasional glance at Bucky or Steve; the former always met your stare, the latter would only look up if a sound got his attention.

“You gonna take a turn?” Bucky asked Steve casually, motioning to you by cocking his head.

“Not yet, need a while to... you know, build up some energy,” Steve explained.

“Mind if I have another go then?”

“She’s all yours,” Steve approved, making Bucky grin as he got up and circled the log you were slumped over.

“Y’hear that, dollface? All mine,” he cooed, picking you up and adjusting you until you were bent over the log, facing Steve and the fire. Your clothes kept your naked torso from rubbing against the bark, thankfully, but nothing could spare you from Bucky’s incessant touch, running up your back, over your butt which he spanked a few times for good measure, and finally to your entrance which he pushed two fingers into first. “Mm, we stretched you out pretty good… you’ll be back in shape by the mornin’, but until then, I just slide right in…”

And he proved himself right with one long stroke that pushed his cock to the deepest parts of you, pushing your hips forward into the log as you tried your best to keep your breathing steady.

He was uniquely quiet this time, still moaning and grunting occasionally but otherwise sparing you from the constant taunts and filthy whispers. Steve, meanwhile, was doing his best to look unaffected, but the subtle adjustment of his legs along with the increased vigor of his carving made it clear he was distracted by the sight in front of him.

Bucky’s strong hands on your hips were sure to leave marks, fingertips digging into your curves and pulling you back onto him, spearing you on his length.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, “gonna come.”

And it was actually a relief because this was going to end (for now), which was definitely the only reason you moaned in response. He got more talkative after that, smacking you on the ass a few more times as he chuckled darkly behind you.

“Fuck, take it, doll… take all my fuckin’ come.”

It was sort of a meaningless instruction, since you had to, but he seemed to enjoy reminding you that he was about to take his pleasure from your body one more time. He made a weak little moaning noise, almost pained, as he filled you once again, slumping down on top of you and for the first time really showing signs of exhaustion after coming three times in a day. You were so out of it that you hardly noticed his weight on you, or the little kisses he gave to your ear, whispering praises that tried your best not to hear.

He pulled out and came back around to look at your face again, pulling you up slightly by your hair so you looked up at him.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned. “Open your mouth sweetheart,” he instructed, spitting onto your tongue as soon as you’d done it, then lifting your jaw to make you close your mouth and swallow.

He tugged your hair harder before he kissed you, more possessive than affectionate, but unexpected regardless. His tongue tangled with yours as he reached down to circle his hand around your neck, feeling your pulse but not going so far as to choke you.

A little groan from Steve caught both his attention and yours. "You wanna fuck her, Stevie?"

"Oh god, I want that ass, I want that fuckin ass," he answered through his teeth, making you gulp as Bucky laughed.

"Go for it, man," he encouraged, and only a second after he stood up you both heard and felt Steve appear behind you, one calloused hand spreading your cheeks; you whimpered from embarrassment when you felt a finger circle your tight rim, before slowly pushing in.

"Fuck," you whispered, and it sounded much more like a curse of pleasure than you intended.

"Yeah, you want it don't you?" he asked through his teeth, giving you a hard spank that made you cry out. Bucky slapped you when you didn't answer, grabbing your jaw roughly.

"He asked you a question," he reminded you firmly, the sound of Steve spitting into his hand and coating your hole and his length distracting you slightly.

"Yes, yes, I want it!" you sobbed.

"Where?"

"In my ass!"

Your body put up significant resistance against his swollen head, but it was no match for his rough thrust forward, the tip of him popping inside and stretching you painfully. You bit your lip but it was impossible to stay quiet when he slid the rest of the way in.

You cried out as he moaned with satisfaction, already moving so much faster than you could handle (which, to be fair, was a low bar).

"Oh my god," he breathed. "So fuckin' tight…"

The pain was sharp, and it felt like the base of his cock was impossibly thicker than the rest of him since you whined every time he pushed in.

"Aw, does it hurt baby? That's my cock ruining your little hole, sweetheart…"

"Stop," you rasped, "please… please stop…"

"Nah, I think you like it… I think what you really needed was just to be put in your place, fucked in every hole so you know exactly what you're meant for."

Bucky appeared in front of you again, stroking himself in front of your face, still slick from behind inside you.

"See what a mess you made on my cock, dollface? I think you need to help me clean it up," he groaned, holding your jaw open to stuff his cock into your mouth and stifle your sobs. The taste of your and his come was potent and musky on your tongue, his head pushing right into your open throat when you tried to gag.

Steve held you tighter as he thrusted a bit more vigorously, Bucky simultaneously using your throat as he stroked your hair and cheek.

You couldn’t remember how to do anything but just take it now. At times their paces synchronized and you felt like you were being filled to the brim at both ends. Other times they were in a syncopation where one pushed in just as the other pulled out, meaning you had no real breaks at all.

Bucky was too weak to come again, that much was obvious, but he was happy to choke you anyways; and Steve, well, Steve was moaning more now than he had from your mouth or pussy, apparently trying to hold himself back even though he had no reason to try to prolong this— unless he actually wanted to see you in pain more than he wanted to finish?

“You want me to come in your ass?” Steve interrogated you with a spank to your thigh. “Beg for it.”

You shook your head around the length in your mouth.

“It doesn’t stop until you beg me for it, isn’t that what you want? You want it to stop, right?”

Had you really fallen into his trap that easily?

Bucky pulled back to give you the opportunity to meet Steve’s request, and you sucked in a lungful of air before finally whimpering: “Please, Steve… please come…”

“Where?” he pressed, ever-determined to make you remind him where he was fucking you.

“Please come in my ass…”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” he snickered before starting to thrust faster and more erratically, chasing his peak which you prayed was close. It was, thankfully, though never close enough, and you forgot that the swell of his pulsating cock would stretch your tired hole even wider.

And, you forgot that he had no reason to pull out just because he’d come.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “that was good.”

You tried to kick him away but it was impossible with how hard he’d pinned you down to the log.

“Just stay still and keep my cock warm in this pretty ass of yours, alright?” he instructed, all the while Bucky stared down at you with a satisfied smirk on his face, combing your hair a bit with his fingers.

“You’re tired, huh?” he noticed. “We’ll get you to bed soon.”

“Will you leave?” you instantly returned.

“We need somewhere to make camp for the night, too. And since there’s already a perfectly good camp right here…”

“No,” you whined, “no, you’re never gonna leave me alone, are you?”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright?” he offered.

It was truly a testament to how physically exhausted you were that you managed to fall asleep squished between your two personal monsters.

Bucky was behind you, essentially spooning you while Steve had an arm draped over your chest. And even with the heavy weight on you, physical and metaphysical, you would’ve slept through the night easily if it weren’t for the feeling of Steve running his hands over your body, groping you wherever he could reach.

You opened your eyes but it was still pitch darkness, giving you no distraction from the physical sensations of Steve's fingers delicately grazing over your skin. Behind you, the quiet stability of Bucky’s breathing made it clear he was still asleep and unaware.

“Steve,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Shh,” he soothed below his breath, right by your ear. “He sleeps like a rock, we’re not gonna wake him up with a little fooling around.”

Amazingly enough, that wasn’t exactly what you were worried about. But you discontinued your dissent as he lightly suckled the lobe of your ear, fingers tracing abstract shapes over your hip. You heard your own breath catch, and he must have too because he smiled and nibbled on your neck.

You shivered when he started to pull you closer, laying you back to reach between your legs and toy with your overly-sensitive folds. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it in slow circles, making you writhe and jolt as shocks of pleasure shot through you.

“So sensitive,” he praised darkly, pushing against you harder. “Gettin’ wet, honey? Want you dripping before I put my cock in you.”

Bucky stirred beside you, pulling you closer in his sleep though Steve kept a strong hold on your lower half. It was nearly claustrophobic being sandwiched between them like this, made even worse when Steve adjusted your hips and you felt his cock rub against you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear, cradling your face in his large, rough hands.

“I— I want it,” you whispered back, biting your lip to stay quiet when he pushed in. You were still sore, but the wetness helped ease his way as he filled you to the brim, groaning softly and thrusting much more gently than you expected. It was all very relaxed, and languid, and… sleepy. It was so much easier to pretend that you wanted this when it was gentle and patient like this, when you couldn’t see his face

“You two got started without me?” Bucky interjected, making you both gasp.

"You seemed pretty busy snoring over there," Steve explained with an unamused tone. “You know, Barnes, I actually broke out of prison so I wouldn’t have to sleep in the same room as you for the rest of my life.”

“Leave if you want, Rogers, I’ll keep the girl and you can take her battery radio, ya limpdick.”

“Limpdick? Were you not here for the past twenty-four hours?”

“Yeah, I was fucking this sweet little thing while you were out there by the fire doing your arts and crafts.”

And just like that, your sweet and gentle sex was gone; Steve was determined to claim you now, fucking you harder and faster until you couldn’t hold back your broken moans. "Yeah, you like that?" he growled against your ear. "You like gettin' fucked? Say it."

"Y-yes, I like it," you gasped.

"We're gonna be on the run for a while…" Bucky mumbled against your skin as he kissed your shoulder, "sure wouldn't mind takin' you with us, keeping our own little pet to fuck whenever we want."

You tried not to stop breathing entirely when he said that, distracted by Steve slowing down slightly, offering some reprieve.

"Been so long without touchin' a woman," Steve added huskily, "I don't know if one day is enough."

"Yeah, plus we've already got you obedient, trained, fucked braindead and full of come," Bucky replied, biting down on your skin to make you whimper and he chuckled happily.

"Are you sure you can share, Barnes?" Steve pressed. "I know if you had it your way she'd be ripped to shreds by now."

"Whatever man, you're the one who tore her ass up."

Steve scoffed slightly, while Bucky continued.

"You wanna come with us sweetheart? We'll be real good to you, keep your holes wet and full for a couple months straight at least. You won't have to worry about a thing, won't have to lift a finger, just keep your legs spread and you'll be peachy."

"Hey, that's what we'll call you: Peach," Steve decided. "It's perfect, isn't it? 'Cause you're sweet… and soft… and I could just eat you up," he purred.

"Wanna be our girl, Peach?" Bucky prompted.

"No, please…"

You expected anger, you expected them to hurt you, but you didn't expect them to laugh. "Looks like our sweet little Peach hasn't had a chance to realize how good it's gonna be with us," Steve announced.

"Yeah, let's show her how much she wants to be our girl," Bucky snickered, holding your hips as Steve started to move inside you again.

Bucky, meanwhile, was grabbing handfuls of your ass and groaning as he rubbed his cock against you. One finger explored your rim and slowly pushed in.

"Looks like you're still a little loosened up from when Stevie here gave it to you, huh? He was real mean, wasn't he?"

You nodded, clutching harder into Steve's chest as he fucked you faster.

"Then taking me should be a breeze."

Truly, you had no idea how this was possible. I'm the dark it all felt like a fever dream, but when Bucky pushed into your available opening while Steve was still fucking you… it was definitely real, the feeling was too overwhelming not to be.

'A breeze' was definitely an exaggeration but it was undeniably easier, especially since being half-asleep made your body so much more relaxed. You still hissed when Bucky's hips met your ass, you still choked on a breath at the feeling of two cocks buried all the way inside you, but it wasn't from pain as much as being full beyond your wildest dreams

"You were right about this ass, Rogers, goddamn…" Bucky moaned, holding your hips tight and beginning to thrust.

"Fuck, can hardly believe you're takin' both of us," Steve sighed against your ear. "I know you love it, Peach, I know you love bein' so full…"

Your lips fumbled with the desire to moan a name but not sure whose to say; so instead you just babbled mindlessly, sounded just as dumbfounded as you felt.

But they weren't having any problems speaking, in fact they were more talkative than ever, each whispering in a different ear and making shivers crawl up your spine with every word.

"You're making us feel so good, such a good girl, aren't you Peachy baby?"

"Such a perfect fucking whore, so wet already just from being used."

"Want us to come inside, huh Peach? Wanna be full of come?”

Each time you arched your back, it only somehow pushed them both deeper, so deep you couldn’t think about anything else anymore. Bucky was moving at a much slower pace than Steve, such that they would only occasionally thrust all the way in at exactly the same time— and when they did, you heard yourself moan but refused to believe it was you making the sound because it sounded nothing like you, it didn’t even seem like something you would do; enjoying this that much, that is.

“You’re close, huh? Gonna come for both of us?”

You found yourself nodding, even though they couldn’t see it, but Bucky must have felt it against his shoulder because he laughed a little, grabbing your face and turning you back to kiss you hungrily. When he moved his kiss down to the back of your neck, Steve captured your lips instead, less dominating than Bucky’s but no less intense. The moan that undeniably signalled your orgasm was nearly lost against Steve’s tongue, but they both heard it and began to pump into you faster, keeping you suspended in your pleasure.

Steve lost it first, spilling into you with a choked groan and a tight grip on your arms that was sure to bruise. Bucky was close behind, panting with each hurried thrust until he finally moaned and filled your ass with ropes of hot come, a sensation you never could’ve imagined, let alone predicted you would experience twice in one day.

Bucky rubbed your thighs while he caught his breath while Steve peppered your face in tender kisses, both of them showering you in affection you had no idea how to handle.

“Whaddaya say, dollface?” Bucky prompted as he kissed just beneath your ear. “Y’like bein’ our little Peach, don’t you?”

You stammered over a few different responses, none of them very good, until Steve finally instructed you: “say yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated instantly.

“I can tell you do, you soaked my cock real good,” Steve praised with a grin you could feel against your cheek and hear in his gravelly voice. “We’ll head out in the morning, alright? Soon we’ll be somewhere where nobody knows who we are, what we’ve done… doesn’t that sound nice, Peach? A chance to start over?”

A fresh start never hurt anyone, right?

Months on the run made the night all blend together, you didn’t even know what state you were in anymore and you couldn’t find the energy to care.

It was definitely harder to hitchhike with three people, and a disturbing amount of truckers offered to take you alone but not your companions— and obviously they would never allow such a thing. At this point, you were better off with the devils you knew, anyways. At least with them you knew what to expect.

Specifically, you could expect Steve to be aloof and brooding until he occasionally snapped and became possessive over you again, asserting his dominance over you and Bucky however he could manage— usually by covering your body in his marks and every once in a while by covering your face with his come. You could expect Bucky to taunt and mock you, cornering you into consenting to his relentless barrage of pleasure and pain, over and over again watching you struggle to maintain your sense of denial and disgust, reminding you that you loved being fucked just how he wanted.

In fact, today was a pretty typical day while the three of you crashed in a motel, Steve staying silent and distant while Bucky kissed his way down your stomach that rose and fell shakily with each breath.

“Bucky, p-please,” you whispered, closing your eyes so you could more easily pretend it wasn’t you begging him for more.

"What's that, Peach? Want me to lick up your juice?" he grinned.

You shuddered and he chuckled as he knelt down between your legs to give a long, slow lick over your sex. Your entire body jolted when his rough tongue slid over your swollen clit, so he focused there until your legs were quivering and your head fell back.

"Mm, so sweet…” he cooed. “Come getta taste a’this, Steve.”

“I’m busy,” Steve refused, turning the page of his newspaper.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Bucky sighed, standing up straighter and leaving your pussy ignored; you whined a little, but it fell on deaf ears. “I’d love to see what you’re reading that could possibly be more interesting than this.”

“There’s an article about us,” Steve answered sternly, looking up from the paper to meet Bucky’s gaze, before glancing to look at you. “All three of us.”

Bucky huffed and stood up, leaving you naked on the bed as he crossed the room to tear the paper from Steve’s hands. His eyes scanned the page until he landed on the part Steve must have been referring to. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Look, Peach, you made the papers!”

He brought over the article for you to read, and you sat up straighter when you saw that a photo of yourself had been included alongside the mugshots of Steve and Bucky.

Two escaped prisoners, one missing woman, spotted in woods near Schenectady, NY...

“When is this from?” you asked nervously.

“The paper’s from today, but we were in Schenectady two weeks ago,” Steve explained. “They aren’t anywhere near us.”

It brought back memories of TV broadcasts you’d seen in hotels, radio news Steve had turned off before you heard too much. Phrases like ‘statewide manhunt,’ ‘federal investigation,’ and ‘trafficked woman,’ which had once been foreign to you, now represented your deepest anxieties.

Bucky saw the fear on your face and knelt down on the bed beside you, stroking your face gently. “Aw, Peach, don’t be scared… they’re not gonna find us, I promise.”

“If they did… what would happen to me?” you asked weakly. You truly had no idea if you’d be returned home and treated as the victim of a crime, or if you’d be arrested and charged as a perpetrator, as a collaborator who aided in the escape and continued flee of two violent criminals. They’d already gotten you in on a few robberies, even one bank— could you defend yourself by saying that you were forced to do it?

“Nobody’s gonna take you away from us,” Bucky assured sternly, not quite answering your question but making it clear that was all you were gonna get. You reached up to rest your hand atop his where it held your cheek, letting your watery eyes fall shut before you looked back up into his enrapturing gaze again.

“Kiss me, Bucky, please,” you whispered, making him laugh and shake his head.

“No, Peachy, I would but I know where that mouth has been. Steve woke you up in the middle of the night to choke on his cock, thought I wouldn’t hear, huh?”

You gasped a little and Steve crossed his arms where he sat in the chair. Bucky turned his attention back to Steve with a look of challenge on his face. “She’s scared, Stevie, won’t you come over here and make her feel better?”

Steve sighed but relented and stood up, crossing the room to stand beside the bed and stare down at you. For a moment you didn’t know what he intended to do, until he knelt down and grabbed your hips, pulled your spread legs closer to the edge of the bed where he latched his lips onto your slick and swollen folds.

“Oh god,” you moaned, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair, his tongue pushing inside you right away, twisting and thrusting and licking right over your g-spot until your eyes rolled back in your head and your back arched up off the faded quilt. Bucky grinned as he watched you, leaning down to kiss your neck, then suckle on a hardened nipple, then lick over your hips until finally he bit down on the inside of your thigh. You yelped a little and felt him smile against your delicate skin.

“I told you we’d take care of you, babydoll,” he mumbled, voice all deep and throaty like it got when he was about to spend an hour reminding you who you belonged to.

Sometimes you dreamed of the life you had before this, of the person you were when you only belonged to yourself, but that life was gone forever and it wasn’t coming back. Each day you mourned it in a different way. At first it was just the loss of dignity, then it was the loss at any chance of gaining that dignity back. You missed your friends and family, but you realized they wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms after this long.

You realized it was well and truly over the first time a man on the news called you an accomplice to the ‘rampant crime spree’ of Bucky and Steve. Just a few weeks later, the stories changed from two prisoners and their kidnapping victim, to three prisoners. And yes, you were a prisoner, but the police didn’t see a difference between you and them anymore. You had no reason to run, no motive for escape. They were the only thing keeping you alive and free now, even if this freedom wasn’t exactly overflowing with liberties.

So, you accepted as quickly as you could that this was your new life; every morning you banished the memories of who you used to be, and every night you prayed that your lovers wouldn’t be caught. And it wasn’t so bad of a life to have, even if it wasn’t the life you would’ve chosen for yourself— there was something nice about it, really, never very calm but still having its moments of peace and domesticity. Like falling asleep in the backseat of a stolen truck while Steve played blues on the radio. Like sitting in Bucky’s lap as he told you all about the beautiful tropical islands they’d take you to someday. Like when Steve robbed a jewelry store and told you he’d picked that one because they had the ring he’d seen in a magazine ad, the ring he decided he wanted you to wear from now on. Like being Mrs. Barnes when Bucky introduced you to his criminal connections, and being Mrs. Rogers when Steve did the same the next night.

Maybe you’d forgotten how to be anything else but their sweet, quiet, obedient Peach, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad wrap after all.

#dark!stucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!stucky noncon #dark!stucky smut #dark!stucky au

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sapphosthoughtsandwritings · 3 years

Note

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.

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